desolation of emotions

Muse

Summary: In which Steve loves art and you’re the muse that inspires him to draw something beautiful again.

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Word Count: 1,328

@avengerstories - you’re the best editor ever and I adore you.

Originally posted by your-kylie-me

Everyone has their hobbies.

For Bruce and Tony, it’s spending time in the lab and running as many experiments as possible.

For Natasha, it’s training in the well-stocked gym and sparring with anyone confident enough to go up against her (there are rarely ever any volunteers).

For Clint, Sam, and Scott when he comes by, it’s competing to see who can pull the most pranks in a day without getting caught.

For Wanda, it’s helping Vision grow more accustomed to the world he was unwittingly brought into.

And, for Steve, it’s drawing.

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anonymous asked:

"Is this your first time?" With Yoosung

#4

Fandom: Mystic Messenger
Pairings: Yoosung Kim x Reader/MC/You
a|n idek its late and my mood is all over the place lmao welcome to hell


“Smile for me, MC!”

You can hear his words reverberate as a prominent flash of a camera gleamed towards you, capturing stilled, stolen angles while you’re off doing something. It was somehow a tad bit bizarre for Yoosung to be even doing this kind of thing knowing how he feels about a certain photographer. You were amused at how, all of a sudden, Yoosung wanted to document every moment you both shared. He said that it’s kind of ‘romantic’ to be able to keep the memories and relive them once more on better days.

You would have to agree with him on the romantic part. Truly, for days when you both had nothing to do, he’d be the one to retell a story about a certain time you both did something whilst pulling a supporting photo as documented evidence. You both would happily retrace what happened during the course and the reason why that certain photo was taken on that very day.

“Ah! Do you remember this?” He asked, one day, while you both lied together on his living room’s sofa, legs entangled under the sheets of the small ‘cushion fort’ you both built. Snacks, a movie playing upfront and the box of his collections of photos for the both of you and you sure knew that the night is already perfect as it is. You gazed fondly at him as he happily pulled out a photo of when you and him both got your very first belly piercings.

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Keepers // 1

Keepers — ft. Oh Sehun

// Romance
// Adult Fiction
// Angst—so please, please, please don’t read it if you don’t want to be left in a puddle of gloom. It’s not as angst as Red though haha (or at least I don’t think)

A/N: This is my take on a soulmate!au and I used this prompt from silentpeaches:

The Red String of Fate exists and only some people have the ability to see the strings. These people can actually cut strings and knot other people’s strings to alter the soulmate laws. Your best friend’s wedding is tomorrow and they know you can see the string. They ask you to help them defy the laws of the universe and help them be with the person they love even though they know they’re not their soulmate. You know they love each other so you help them regardless if your best friend is your soulmate.


I’ve always seen them—these lines of fate stretching from one person to another. It’s my family’s gift to see what others can’t. My parents and their ancestors called our kind Keepers but at current I can’t determine if it’s a gift or a curse as I look around the vineyard with all its varying characters.

Each person has a red string connecting them to their destined half. It’s affixed to their left wrist and colored in a rich deep red representing the lifeline between two people. Their energy, their emotions, their love traverses through the single thread back and forth so each partner always knows what the other is feeling. The crimson seams are usually clean, unaffected and free of incisions and marks. They’re not meant to be tampered with because they symbolize the person we’re supposed to be with. They equate to the man or woman we’re meant to live out our lives with because they’re our perfect match and we’re drawn to the ones we love.

But it doesn’t mean the lines are indestructible. 

They can be cut. 

They can be separated. 

They can be tied to another person to change the laws of fate and it’s this horrific request sinking my heart as I face my best friend and his chosen bride.

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Don’t Let Me Go {Kim Junmyeon}

are you gonna take scenarios request? if you’re not, it’s okay. but if yes, can i make a req? suho’s angst scenarios when you and him get into argument bcs he hangout with idol girl, during argument he slap you ( if this too mean, you can change it to ‘hurtful words’ ) and make you cry. make it happy ending, please? thank you before :))

Note: Eh, I didn’t really want to write abuse themes, but I did write something angsty-ish with a good ending (I think teehee.) Anyway, I hope you enjoy! 

Disclaimer: I don’t own the gifs/ images used.

Main Masterlist - EXO Masterlist

Originally posted by golfdadsuho2001

What had started off as an innocent side comment had exploded a bomb of arguments. Your blood was boiling, arms swinging animatedly as you expressed your bellowing words towards the man that was just as angry as you, his eyes as big as a bonfire, and lit with spits of rage and passion.

“What is it to you who I date? Huh? We’re not anything, {y/n}, you said it yourself!” Junmyeon roared, fingers accusing you as they pointed at you.

“We’re not dating but we’re still something!” You cried in return, the anger slowly starting to turn into saddened emotions, you could feel the tears filling in your eyes as he glared at you with sharp daggers, that cut through your heart carelessly like cold murder.

“Friends with benefits isn’t anything!”

He continued to shout, “It’s just a fling!” as you cried, “But I love you!”

The sudden shouts of unison both stopped dead. The room fell silent. Not a single sound but the hard breaths of both of you panting after such an outrage, you never fought with Junmyeon, ever.

The analog hands ticked, inching away second after second as you both stared at each other, the resentment slowly fading to something that felt more like awkwardness.

Your heart beated faster than a drum, banging against your ribcage. It was almost amazing that it wasn’t audible to Junmyeon, because you felt it kicking harshly, hurting your insides. But it didn’t hurt half as much as the sudden sorrow that flooded your bloodstream.

“You… I…” Junmyeon spluttered, utterly breathless.

“It doesn’t matter, I’m sure you feel exactly that way for Luna anyway…” You started to turn away to leave, arms dropping to your sides as you plastered a poker face mask above your desolate emotions.

“Wait, {y/n}. You don’t understand.” Junmyeon sounded wrecked. “I feel the same way about you too.”

You looked at him in disbelief. “You can’t backtrack now.”

“I’m not backtracking.” He sounded like he was picking his words carefully. “I was talking to her because I wanted to get over you… I didn’t know you felt the same way I did, and being like this with you was too painful… I can’t have a relationship with no love anymore…”

You watched him, those eyes that were once flickering flames were now dropping with tears, clearly spouting nothing but the truth and only the truth, you walked over, pulling him into a hug and running your hands through his soft hair.

“It’s okay Junmyeon… it’s over now… we can start again.”  

He held you back tightly, his arms gripping your waist firmly, the reflection of his true feelings.

“Never let me go.”

“I won’t.”

Изкуството е сделка с дявола

Случайно хванах нещо интересно по телевизията и залепнах за екрана. Документалка за Мери Шели, авторката на Франкенщайн. 

Нямах никаква представа, че самата книга и самият герой… всъщност репрезентират самата нея. Майка ѝ умира при раждането ѝ и растейки,  желанието ѝ да може да съживява мъртвите започва именно с това. По-късно през годините забременява няколко поредни пъти и винаги губи бебето, което отново служи да засили усещането, че може би е прокълната и обречена да бъде нещастна завинаги. Целият ѝ живот е бил по-скоро тежък, отколкото приказка, макар да е призната още приживе за трудовете си. Нищо от това не е попълвало чувството за празнота вътре. Чувствала се е като аутсайдер, като Франкенщайн, защото израства без нужната любов, от която се е нуждаела. Точно като него е живяла, без да знае защо са я създали и след това оставили в този свят без “инструкции”, да се справя сама както може. That hit really close to home. Изгледах и попих цялата информация и единственото, което си мислех след като видях финалните надписи беше - “Tрябва да видя картата ѝ!”

След като го направих, доста неща ми се изясниха. Чудех се защо темата за смъртта е толкова силна в живота ѝ и разбира се, Плутон беше замесен, правейки опозиция на така или иначе нестабилното и нервно Слънце в Дева, което освен всичко прави съвпад и с Уран, което пък вкарва елемента електричество и технологии и именно това я прави една от първите авторки на научна фантастика. Цялата ѝ кариера се върти около тази книга, смъртта и трансформациите, които преживява в живота си и това идеално пасва на Плутон, който се е цвъкнал точно на МЦ.
Но в привидно приятната ѝ карта се чудех къде да открия източника на страх. Това, което я е правело толкова депресирана и откъсната от… сякаш живота. Както и дали смъртта на всичките ѝ деца е била кармично обусловена или просто проекция на страховете ѝ. Видях само един потенциален виновник, защото всичко друго изглеждаше наред и това беше Сатурн в първи дом в Рак. Възможно ли беше целият ѝ живот да е белязан от тази проклета планета? Съвсем. Защото докато гледах документалния филм и снимките ѝ вътре и всичко, което разказваха за нея, със сигурност не виждах Дева с асцендент Рак. Виждах Скорпион и Козирог и оказа се точно това е било доминиращото влияние в картата ѝ. Затова понякога се чудя защо въобще питам кой, каква зодия и асцендент има, след като много добре знам, че трябва да погледна цялата карта за да разбера истината.

Макар да се оказах права, в този конкретен случай почувствах тежест, вместо лекота. Не знам защо е нужно великите имена в историята на изкуството да са белязани от трагедии. Да имат счупено детство. Да преминават през толкова болка за да достигнат до дълбочината, която би могла да докосне някого. Не е като да не знам, разбира се, говорим за измерението на фалшивата дуалност все пак, но c’mon… всеки ден се питам, в крайна сметка, струва ли си? Струва ли си да си велик поет, писател или мислител, обречен винаги да се чувства сам на този свят? Помня, че веднъж писах по тази тема след като гледах “Kill your darlings”, още един филм по истински случай, за изкуството и това, което изисква от теб. Ето какво си мислех тогава: 

“Сетих се, че вчера оставих поне една част от мислите си да ме напуснат и да се влеят в тефтерчето ми, драскайки разкривени линии с премръзнали ръце. Чаках приятеля ми да се появи с колата и пушех цигара след цигара. А аз дори не пуша. Главата вече ме болеше, вероятно заради дефицит на кислород от дима, но основно заради дефицит на място, което да побере всички малки супернови, които избухваха по едно и също време в нея. Ушите ми бумтяха с мислите, които се раждаха една след друга, като крясъци на раздвоената и разтроената ми душа, чакаща още и още персоналности да изкажат мнението си и да ме побъркат окончателно. В такива условия минутите бързо се превръщат в часове. Постепенно ме обхващаше параноя и имах едничкото желание просто да се прибера по-бързо, но колата така и не се появяваше. Затова трябваше да си създам импровизиран мислоем. Извадих химикалка и тефтер и клекнах, опирайки го на една от каменните топки по тротоара. Колите и автобусите минаваха на по-малко от метър от мен, но имах нужда от светлината на фаровете им. На сутринта намерих тези няколко реда на лист от тефтера ми:  

Emotional desolation.
Is that what creates art in its most powerful form?
Is it even possible to create a gaping hole in someone’s mind without experiencing the story you’re telling firsthand?
Can we skip that?
Can we.. not let it kill us?
Because what are we gaining?
Okay, I’ll sign your book, but that’s my blood in it.
How is it ever worth it in the end, when you don’t always just let it out.
You well know that the words inside,“if you try to let them go… they only circle back and return to you. They become part of who you are. Оr they destroy you.”

Това усещах тогава, това усещам в малко по-лека степен и сега. Може да звучи крайно драматично, но да се занимаваш с изкуство е като сделка с дявола. Сякаш всеки път плащаш за поредната песен или стихотворение или произведение от какъвто и да е тип, с кръвта си. Всички те гледат, възхищават ти се, поздравяват те, купуват картините, книгите или музиката ти, без да знаят, че това, което си направил не е плод на случайното ти вдъхновение. Това, което правиш е механизмът, който си придобил с цел да останеш жив. Да стоиш в центъра на галерия с твои картини е почти гротеска картина сама по-себе си. Сякаш всички се усмихват и разглеждат разпръснатите ти вътрешности по стените. Това, което правиш не е талант и геройство, а единствения начин да съществуваш. Единственият начин да не се побъркаш. Затова, когато някой те потупа по рамото с широка усмивка, моментално разбираш, че той нищо не разбира. Че не знае какво е усещането да се опитваш да издрапаш от бездната с всяка следващата дума или звук от струна. Не понасям да ми благодарят за клиповете, които правя, за текстовете, които пиша и за всичко, което някой намира за полезно. Ваша работа е какво намирате в това, което правя, за мен не е нищо. За мен е сякаш да ми благодарите, че дишам. Не съм го избирала и ако можех, може би нямаше. Вярвам в това, че животът на всяка душа е “свободноизбираем” и то лично от нея, но самият факт, че не помня нищо за онова отвъд, което ще направи това преживяване по-поносимо, просто ми бърка в здравенцето и затова казвам, че “не съм го избирала и не бих го избрала”. Просто защото без нужната информация, това усещам.

В крайна сметка обаче it is what it is и трябва да се застъпя за избора си. Да намеря причината, заради която съм сметнала, че това е живот и опит, който желая да получа. И това се случва. Понякога. Не достатъчно често, за да съм вечно спокойна, но и не достатъчно рядко, за да искам да се гръмна. С времето човек се учи да намери удобство и в хаоса. Или… умира от тумор в мозъка като Мери Шели.

Dangerous liaisons of the Dark side kind

The Force Awakens has a tendency to veer between being aggressively obvious and being subtle to the point that certain aspects of it have flown completely over most people’s heads (see the climactic duel for the perfect illustration of this). One aspect of the film that embodies both of these elements is the dynamic between Kylo Ren and Snoke - I’m going to analyse their relationship as it’s presented within the film, with some reference to the script and reasonable inference.

The Kylo Ren and Snoke dynamic is very, very clearly presented as a close antecedent to the relationship between Darth Vader and the Emperor. Their first scene together is, in essence, a remix of key lines and moments from the pivotal scene between Vader and the Emperor in The Empire Strikes Back.* You have exchanges that are obviously designed to parallel each other (”there is a great disturbance in the Force. Have you felt it?”/”I have felt it” and “There’s been an awakening. Have you felt it?”/”Yes.”), a small masked and black-garbed figure gazing up at a looming holographic image aboard a Star Destroyer, and a discussion of parentage (”This boy is the offspring of Anakin Skywalker”/”In the hands of your father, Han Solo”). It isn’t subtle, and it’s not meant to be subtle. 

The subtleties of the relationship between Kylo and Snoke - the details that make it interesting - are mainly concentrated in the mutual distrust and suspicion that characterise it. At the end of their first encounter, Kylo insists that he will “not be seduced” (by the Rey of Light). Snoke appears to take a dim view of Kylo’s self-confidence, replying with “we shall see. We shall see.” In the script, this is followed up with some additional detail that I can only describe as bizarre:

A gentle, satisfied nod from Snoke, and Kylo Ren, obsessed, filled up, exits. Snoke watches him disappear, a grotesque evil SMILE growing – as he DISINTEGRATES – Snoke has been a HOLOGRAM all along.

From that, the implication seems to be that Kylo is fired up by the encounter, more determined than ever to marry himself to the Dark side and please his master. Kylo, though, is far more naive and fragile than he can bear to acknowledge, and I have the impression that Snoke is fully aware of his weakness and is perhaps even perversely entertained by it. In other words, I feel confident in saying that the smile described isn’t one of contentment or satisfaction (n.b. I can’t remember if Snoke smiles at the end of the encounter in the film, so feel free to let me know).

The irony of this, of course, is that Kylo’s weakness for the Light is exposed in the next scene he and Snoke share together - with this being clearly telegraphed by the continued absence of Kylo’s mask. Kylo is visibly humiliated - he was overpowered by an untrained girl and made vulnerable by her (the “compassion” discussion in the novelisation is very interesting in relation to this, but it’s something to discuss separately). Here, Kylo’s failure is no longer a simple prospect - it is a reality, and Snoke is furious with him. His already low expectations have been disappointed. Nonetheless, Snoke is also intrigued by what he hears and he wants to see Rey for himself. Here, you have a notable divergence between Kylo and Snoke. Kylo had shown no intention of taking Rey to Snoke directly, instead begging his master for guidance on extracting the map from her. In other words, Snoke’s plan is quite separate from Kylo’s.

When he faces Han, Kylo is met with his own fears and anxieties as voiced by his father. Han says “Snoke is using you for your power. When he gets what he wants, he’ll crush you – you know it’s true.” And since I can’t share a gif of Adam Driver’s beautifully nuanced performance, I’ll share the relevant line from the script:

Kylo hesitates. Somehow, he does know it.

Note that Kylo makes no attempt to tell his father that he’s wrong. Instead, Kylo can only say “It’s too late” - he knows Han is right, but he believes he has done too much and gone too far to do what his father asks of him. Despite his affirmation that he will not be seduced in his first scene with Snoke, it’s crystal clear that Kylo has doubts in Snoke - just as Snoke has doubts in Kylo - that mount over the course of the film. 

While many people have interpreted Han’s murder as the ultimate sign that Kylo has overcome his inner conflict and fully committed to Snoke and the Dark side, that conclusion only works alongside the most superficial reading of the film. Kylo is an emotional wreck following Han’s death, more conflicted and wretched than he ever was previously. Most crucially, in the film’s climax Kylo is shown to be acting as an agent of his own emotions rather than the servant of Snoke - his master goes unmentioned and unacknowledged, and Kylo’s dialogue to Rey makes this overt (”It’s just us now!”/”I can show you the ways of the Force.”) The very end of his arc in The Force Awakens shows him acting for independent and selfish reasons, driven by his obsession with Rey and his intense, raging hatred of Finn. Snoke’s influence is striking only in its absence.

And this, of course, is what makes Kylo so dangerous. Whereas Vader consistently positioned himself as a loyal servant of the Emperor, bowing to him, calling him “master” and loyally following his commands (up until a certain change of heart, of course), Kylo is ultimately interested in his own agenda and his own emotions and desires. You can see this in his behaviour with him - Kylo never calls Snoke “master” and never bows to him. With Snoke, he never adopts an aspect that suggests subservience (this is especially interesting when you appreciate that he does adopt a subservient stance with Rey, crouching in the shadows as he gazes up at her light in the interrogation room).

It’s worth considering why this is. When Vader joins the Emperor in the form that we’re most familiar with (black mask, cloak, wheezing, etc.), he is a husk of a man - half of his body is missing, the rest of it a scarred mass of ruined flesh. Padme -  the woman he loved enough to kill for - is dead (he believes) by his own hand. He also thinks that his unborn child died with her. Vader has no independent purpose left at the end of Revenge of the Sith, so is in a position where he is willing to entirely give himself over to the Emperor and his cause. Kylo, however, was a boy enticed to the Dark side by promises of power and personal fulfilment. He still has a family, a healthy body and wishes and desires of his own - in other words, he has far more compelling reasons to doubt and distrust Snoke than Vader ever did to mistrust the Emperor. The dependence between Vader and the Emperor was actual, in large part connected to Vader’s physical ruin and emotional desolation, whereas the dependence between Kylo Ren and Snoke is essentially a false and tenuous construct. 

The relationship was forged in Kylo’s youth - potentially when he was a young child - and I think the dependence Snoke successfully fostered in his apprentice is becoming steadily more fragile as Kylo grows and develop. Snoke has been trying to keep Kylo frozen in a state of perpetual adolescence - a state characterised by indulgence, violence and careful control - but that attempt is shown to have ended in failure by the end of The Force Awakens. One chapter of Kylo’s life has closed with the end of the film, but another is beginning - by continuing his training Snoke is clearly preparing to adopt new tactics with his apprentice, and it will be most interesting to see what those tactics are.

* Since it’s locked in as canon, I’m using the special edition version of the scene for this (there are key differences in the dialogue).

Diamond in the Rough

Regency Elya art by feylen! Thank you, she is beautiful!

Chapter 24

Pairing: Cullen x Trevelyan

Rating: NSFW

Tags: First Time, Romance

Link: AO3

In Regency Era Thedas, Orlais and Ferelden are at war. As an officer in Ferelden’s army, Cullen is entrusted with an important document, one that he must keep secret and deliver it to the right hands at any cost. He is betrayed, someone leaking his position and he and his men are set upon by Orlesian soldiers. Grievously wounded, Cullen flees into the Orlesian countryside. Elya saves his life, healing his wounds and keeping him hidden.  Her manners give her away as more than just a typical country girl. As he grows stronger and they grow closer, he becomes more and more intrigued by the quiet woman and her secrets. Cullen knows that he cannot stay, his duties calling him away.

A world of Thedas retelling of Aladdin, in a Regency Era setting!


They talked well into the night, always touching. He told Elya of his childhood and his family, making her laugh at all their antics. Gently he coaxed her to tell him something, and she hesitantly spoke of her parents. As he encouraged her, the stories became easier to tell, more funny and filled with the happiness of her youth. He smiled warmly as her brittle tension faded. The pain and hurt may always be with her, but he saw her eyes clear, saw her smile come more frequently. Small steps, he told himself as he brushed her hair off her cheek or smoothed his palms over her back. Healing came in small steps.

As much as they didn’t want to stop, her exhaustion became too much for Elya to ignore anymore. Her recovery and the emotional desolation and elation were both physically and mentally draining. Her eyelids became heavy, and she laid her head on his shoulder, her breathing deep and even.

A faint smile played around his lips. “Come, Elya. It’s time for bed.” He squeezed her tightly for a moment, clutching her to him. He still couldn’t believe this was happening. That she was not only in his arms, but that she would be his wife in short order. Elya mumbled a sleepy protest, but she pulled away just enough for him to slip out and stand. The blankets were a tangled mess and he helped to arrange them over her. For a long moment he gazed down at Elya, his heart so full. Her sooty black lashes fanned across her dark cheek, her dusky lips parted in utter relaxation. Her loose hair was a cascade over her pillow, hand curled beneath her chin.

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Tragedy

Please excuse me
While I wallow in self pity
Sorry that I’m so needy
And that isolation feeds me
But I feel I have to be 
Cause half of me 
Doesn’t want to feel sad
And really feels bad
Dragging others into 
The shit I go through
Cause half of me
Really wants to be
Somebody
Anybody
More than spoken sorrows
And a heart that’s hollow
But with all my sorrow
I just can’t follow
The path demanded by my half
I can’t smile or laugh
Just flex my face 
In an uncomfortable place
That deceives people into thinking I actually believe
In my half that wants to really laugh
But I can’t
I can’t stop writing rants
Cause there is another side of me
Deep inside of me
A walking carcass 
Desolate of emotion and hopeless
A depressing mass
That’s completely worthless
Cause it can’t feel any more
Cause it can’t deal any more
With every terrifying truth
Attempting to pass through
Making it feel
Like it’s unreal
How things could actually be
Worse than we could even perceive
So half of me wants to leave
Since he can’t even believe 
He wants this show to end
Cause although it’s a genre a blend
It’s clearly a tragedy 
That’s simply too sad for me
No matter how it goes
Half of me wants the curtains to close
Cause although being happy can distract half of me
The other side still knows
About the tragic curse 
that tragedy only gets worse

Russian Roulette (Hoseok Imagine)

Request: could you please write a scenario/imagine where u’re helping your childhood friend to get the attention of the girl he likes but u end up liking him & he find out that you liked him all the time you was helping him, he’s already dating the girl and being happy really happy with her. tnx <33 idk if i already sent but just in case… bc my phone is crazy hehe

A/N: this is like a form of my second favourite romantic cliche ever!!! I hope everyone knows the game Russian roulette, if not, Google it haha

Genre: Angst (takes a while to get into the rhythm though)

Rating: PG 15+

Summary: Hoseok never realised your feelings until it was just too late

Song: Russian Roulette by Spica

Note: (Y/F/M) stands for ‘your favourite movie’

-

1st shot.

“Pick something else! You’ve picked Strawberry Swiss Swirl for the past ten years!” you exclaimed, latching onto his arm and swaying back and forth. Hoseok rolled his eyes and shook your arm away as you both surveyed the desert isle.

“Fine, we’ll get chocolate” he grumbled, opening the freezer and going for the red ice cream container but you stopped him.

“Stop being boring. Chocolate is so unoriginal” you complained again and bounced on your toes a little.

“Will you stop being so picky?” he chuckled in disbelief and also raised his voice. Despite being in a populated supermarket, you both could care less about who heard your bickering. “We’ll get cookies and cream then.”

You hummed in your throat and he shot you an are-you-serious glare. “I don’t like cookies and cream.”

“Stop lying, you love cookies and cream” he interrupted you and grabbed the large tub. “You’re just being stubborn to annoy the shit out of me.

You both began walking down the isle towards the area where the self service registers were, snatching a few more confectionary snacks along the way. “But you love when I annoy you. You even admitted it was cute one time.”

“Only when you’re buying the food, Y/N” he grinned cheekily and quickly swerved away from the self services.

“What are you doing? You know I like the self serves” you questions incredulously, holding out a directional arm. He kept walking, ignoring you completely as he strode towards a cashier girl. You sighed dramatically and trudged towards him.

“Hi, how are you today?” she spoke sweetly to Hoseok and briefly glanced at you so you knew she was also talking to you. He laughed - almost giddily - setting the basket on the counter-like space but didn’t reply, a red tinge to the skin of his face.

“Yeah, we’re fine, thanks” you said flatly. Hoseok elbowed you and your eyes went to slits as you glared at him. No way we’re you being deliberately nice to the girl he secretly loved. At least you weren’t being outright rude either, like you were jealous or something. It was just that you didn’t really want her brought up when you actually had time to spend together every now and then. He had guy friends for that.

She told you to have a nice night, Hoseok chuckled awkwardly again and you forced a very nice smile. Hoseok didn’t speak the entire car ride back to your place, just a stupidly big closed mouth smile on his face. You wanted to ground you jaw together.

Save.

-

2nd shot.

You were in the midst of eating your huge tub of ice cream and watching (Y/F/M), that you gladly had the pleasure of picking this time, when Hoseok cleared his throat rather loudly.

“What do you want?” you asked rather irritably, knowing exactly what he was going to bring up.

“Why so hostile?” he pouted cutely, the same pout that made your hard demeanour evaporate into thin air every time.

“I’m not, I just…” you sighed “what did you want you talk about?”

“Well,” he paused so he could pause the TV - which actually made you die a little on the inside - and shift on the couch to face you “you know that girl I kind of have a thing for?”

“The one that you completely fluster like a dork over and can’t even get one word out? Yes, I know the one” you elaborated unamused causing his face to drop. “I’m sorry, go on.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I…kind of need advice on…how to talk to her.”

Your eyebrows shot right up that you weren’t sure they were on your forehead anymore. Yes, he couldn’t talk to this girl to save his life, but you wouldn’t have ever thought he’d come to you for this advice. No matter how long you’d know him.

“What?” You must have been staring. “I’m serious, Y/N! I really like this girl, I want to get her attention.”

Your heart sunk to the depths of your stomach but you pushed it back and smirked. “Jung Hoseok, asking me for advice for a girl? I must be dreaming.”

He tapped you on the head with his spoon and you rubbed the spot with a pout. “If you don’t want to help you just have to say so. I just thought you’d help me out because you love me so much and you’re my bestest friend in the whole entire world and-”

“Okay, okay, I’ll do it if you’ll stop talking” you rushed with your eyebrows knitted tightly in annoyance. Really, you just wanted the conversation dropped for the time being. After all, it wasn’t like you got to see him every single day. You didn’t want the night filled with him verbally fawning over his crush.

“Geez, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were jealous” he raised his hands to rest behind his head, a devilish smirk playing in his lips. “Not secretly in love with me, are you Y/N?” You replied automatically the best way you knew how, despite the sting your own words gave you.

“Please, I couldn’t love you even if I tried” you snorted and glued your eyes to the frozen TV, not daring to look at him or you’ll spill something that should be left in the cup.

The room, the house, fell completely silent, only the sound of your quiet breaths sounding into the dense air. Hoseok cautiously broke the deafening silence, “Couldn’t…or wouldn’t?”

You but down onto your lip, rolling it between your teeth. “Couldn’t. Can’t.”

Falling back into silence, Hoseok let out an extremely soft ‘okay’ before resuming the movie, the characters reviving and continuing their story whereas you were still frozen in place. You were just going to have to fight through the irritation of helping your best friend get the girl of his dreams, despite your hidden desire to stop it at all costs.

Save.

-

3rd shot.

“Okay, what’s the first thing you do when approaching a pretty girl?” you asked, standing in front of yours and Hoseok’s childhood chalkboard, a long metre ruler in your hands.

Hoseok begged you to start teaching him as soon as possible, wanting to try and woo his crush sooner. You had rolled your eyes but now here you were after school giving me “lessons”.

“I….say hello…” he answered slowly and you mentally slapped your own forehead.

“Besides that, Hoseok, besides saying hello.” He began chewing on his bottom lip quietly, his doe eyes looking to you for an idea. You sighed shortly. “You ask her how she is. Don’t say some crappy pick up line that only works for drunk women in clubs. You don’t want to appear like a sleaze.”

He nodded quickly with parted lips. How he generally didn’t know the basics on how to talk to a girl amazed you. “What’s next?”

“Think back, okay? How were you when you first started talking to me?” you said. His face fell a little in mock seriousness.

“That was different. We were seven years old and I gave you half my sandwich because you didn’t have any food.”

“And it was a delicious sandwich” you overemphasised making him smile and shake his head. “But I didn’t stay for your sandwiches, did I?”

“No?”

“No, I didn’t, you noob!” I laughed and sat down beside him on the airy mattress of his bed. “You were nice. Girls like nice guys that make them feel good. The cute teasing and all that romantic stuff, it comes later. We aren’t kids anymore who like to be bullied because we think that the other person likes them.”

He sat there soundlessly, his eyes boring into yours in persistent wonder. Your stomach clenched at the intensity of his stare.“I’m glad you stayed for me and not the sandwiches.”

“That’s what you got from what I just said” you said tiresomely, wishing you had a cold cloth to have against your forehead. You didn’t know why you bothered to put in so much effort.

“Well, yeah. It’s nice to know you haven’t been using me all these years” he shrugged and offered a cheeky grin.

“Honestly, if I had had any other friends, the sandwiches would have been the only thing that made me come back to you” you snorted, loving that vivid memory of your first meeting with Hoseok.

“And the truth is revealed!” he hollered dramatically and you laughed adding to the noise level, the corners of your eyes crinkling cheerfully. “Not hiding anything else from me, are you?”

Your muscles tensed and the clocks in your mind started ticking. “Of course not, why would I keep anything from you?” you chuckled nervously, hiding the way you fidgeted with your fingers.

He shrugged, his eyes soft and youthful filling your heart with adoring stutters. “You’re right, I trust that you don’t keep things from me. That’s what I love about you.”

Save.

-

4th shot.

Today was the day. Hoseok was going on his first date with his crush. He had thanked you repeatedly over the phone once she had said yes, all of your hard work paying off creating a smooth talking and girl-talking-confident Hoseok. Your voice sounded happily through the line but your face couldn’t be any more desolate of the emotion.

As soon as Hoseok had left your house, ready to pick up his date for the night, you found yourself immediately rushing over to, your and Hoseok’s other friend, Namjoon’s house. He opened the door to you holding your arms, a stricken expression on your face. It reflected onto his own and he pulled you into his house.

“I knew this was coming” you stated plainly and you furrowed your eyebrows together, following him to the couch.

“You don’t even know what I’m here for.”

“Right, because it’s not like I haven’t ever seen that face before” he said sarcastically and you squinted at him before heavily collapsing next to him. “Even though I’m a genius, tell me exactly what is going on.”

You remained quiet for a moment, wrecking through your brain to gather a concise thought on how you were feeling. “Hoseok’s on his date with her.”

“And that bothers you” he nodded, not phrasing it as a question slightly getting on your nerves. But you hummed in agreement anyway. “Why does it bother you?”

“Namjoon” you warned but his gaze cut straight through your soul.

“I want to hear you say it.”

Your mouth began to open and close, the words had never been able to pass your lips even when you were alone. Why had it become so hard just because you have a mere crush on your best friend. You thought, not often because it made you angry but you still thought, that if you helped him and it worked out for him you would get over this childish fantasy.

“I like him” you whispered.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I like him, okay? I like Hoseok!” you said loudly. It was enough for Namjoon because he reached behind him, venturing into his back pocket and pulling out his phone. He set it down onto the coffee table firmly.

“Then why are you telling me?”

Your mind clicked into place and you groaned, jumping up from your spot on the couch. “Don’t be an idiot, I’m not going to tell Hoseok my feelings when he’s on a date with the girl he actually likes.”

“What is it with girls and thinking everything is such a big deal?” Namjoon spoke, obviously to himself because he was no longer paying any attention to you.

“I can’t just do that, Namjoon, it isn’t right.”

“So you’re telling me…that you’d prefer to live out the rest of your friendship as the girl who didn’t get the guy and watched miserably as he was happy with another girl?” he asked incredulously.

“I’d prefer to have him in my life than not at all” you replied but you weren’t as sure about your words than you sounded.

Namjoon snickered, not meanly but more in exasperation, shaking his head at the floor. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s going to turn out super well.”

As if he could see the sadness of realisation welling up inside of you he sighed and stood up, walking to you feeble frame and loosely wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“It’s not too late, you know.”

You closed your eyes, wishing that it would all dissipate like waking up from a nightmare. Unfortunately, reality sucked like that. “I think it is.”

Save.

-

5th shot.

It had been a month. Hoseok had been dating her for a month now. And you had been suffering silently, secretly, for the entirety of it.

And to your absolute dreadful surprise, you and Hoseok didn’t hang out much anymore. Less so than you even had before. From this spawned a resentment, you tried your best not to see him as much as possible during school hours. If he happened - once in a full moon - arrive at your doorstep you couldn’t avoid him as easily. Painfully, most of that time was bragging about his new relationship, or sorting out an outfit for his date from the selection of clothes he had stored in your drawers.

Soon he had stopped altogether. You couldn’t keep count of how many times you had cried yourself to sleep. You wouldn’t have ever thought Hoseok could neglect you like this. Ever. Yeah, as hypocritical as you were, he had started it. You were just helping it along so you could get over it quicker. But you didn’t. And it was killing you.

Namjoon had warned you but you ignored him. He could only help you so much before trying to restore a little normality back to your life. Hoseok was 85% of that normality, though.

One day you had had enough, the raw emotions too much for your body to handle and pegged your phone at the wall smashing it to pieces, breaking your photo frames and ripping pictures of you and him off your bedroom walls.

Today was the day you cut it off officially. Cowardly. You packed his clothes and belonging he left at your house in boxes. You droves to his house when you knew he wasn’t home and dumped them on the front door step.

It was the best you could do to force the next step in forgetting that you had a life long best friend named Jung Hoseok.

Save.

-

6th shot.

Bang, bang, bang…bang, bang, BANG!

You jumped up from your quiet spot on the floor in front of the rom com you put on to rush the front door. One of your parents must have forgotten their house keys.

Grumbling the entire journey to the front of your house, you turned the locks upside down and opened the door. Your body morphed into stone at the sight of a livid Hoseok, cold expression and lips drawn into a thin line.

“Hoseok” you gulped and he pushed past you harshly, into the foyer.

“What he fuck are my things doing just sitting outside of my house?” he spat, his words chopped and sharp. “What, you think I wouldn’t come over her and question what the hell is going on?”

Your mouth didn’t work for a moment before you gathered enough courage to speak up. “I-I didn’t have a key for your door so just left them there” you said keeping your head held high, closing the door behind you.

“No, I didn’t ask that Y/N. I asked why they’re there and not here” he narrowed his eyes. You crossed your arms over your chest defensively.

“I just thought that you’d prefer them at your house considering you don’t come here anymore.” The smart alec tone oozed from your words and Hoseok’s strong demeanour slightly faltered, licking his lips and releasing a breath.

“Look, Y/N, I’m-”

“I don’t think there is anything you need to explain, Hoseok” you cut him off and stepped away from the door. “So, I think you can just leave, please.”

His face switched to one of utter confusion, his mouth hanging open. “What are you doing? I feel like I don’t even know you.”

“Please,” you spat and he flinched slightly “don’t get me started or I’m not going to be able to stop.”

You moved to slip past him hoping he would just leave already so he wouldn’t see you become upset but he gripped your forearm and dragged you back.

“No, I think I will start you.” His voice had begun to shake a little and you averted your gaze to the ground, trying to ignore the fire his touch held against your bare skin.

“What do you want? You’ve haven’t even spoken to me, why try and start again now?”

“I spoke to Namjoon on the phone about twenty minutes ago” he said without hesitation and you stiffened. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked softer.

You forced your arm out of his hand and stepped back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Stop fucking lying to me!” he shouted and you squeezed your eyes shut. “You said you wouldn’t ever keep things from me!”

“Oh, grow up, will you?” you yelled back, finally lifting your head to meet his conflicted eyes. “What would the point be?”

“It’s everything, Y/N, everything” he laughed in disbelief running a hand through his messy hair. “You know I hate to see you hurting.”

“But you didn’t see” you said darkly, your voice low and just about a murmur.

The room was quiet, a thrum of light rain sounding from outside the house. “No, I didn’t. But you still should have told me how you felt.”

“And said what, Hoseok? What? You’re happy with her, I wasn’t just going to have that all fall down because of how much I’m in love with you. I’m not that selfish to tear down my best friend’s happiness. I’d rather live in misery.” You almost whispered the last part, exhaustion creeping into your joints and blurring your vision.

“What did you just say?” You gulped down the large lump in your throat but didn’t say another word. You had finally spilled the beans and your argument was now half invalid. “You said love.”

“Hoseok-”

“No, don’t. You said you love me?”

“What does it matter, alright?” you smiled to yourself bitterly.

You felt hands come into contact with your shoulders, Hoseok’s body heat radiating onto your skin. “It matters, Y/N.”

You swatted his hands away and stepped away from him once again. You almost had to hold your chin it was quivering so much. “Leave, Hoseok. You’re happy and that’s all I need to know to get over this.”

You shuffled towards the front door and cracked it open, the chilliness of the rain doing no wonders for your hot skin. Hoseok’s hand gripped onto your own, running his thumb over the top, his forehead resting against your hair.

“Y/N…” he mumbled, his voice fragile and weak showing you that he was about to break.

This felt like a break up; the ending of a lifelong friendship that you both thought would last forever.

“You won’t see me anymore, Hobi” you sniffled, the use of his nickname causing him to shake his head, his lips finding the side of your head. “And I won’t see you. That’s how it will be from now on.”

You felt his chest rise and stop, holding his breath as he let go of your hand and sidestepped out of the door. His eyes were filled with heavy tears on the brink of overflowing if he blinked. “I don’t want to do this” he whimpered, his lips forming a heart shattering pout.

You smiled sadly, lifting your shoulders and letting them fall like lead. “Maybe we’ll see each other some day, but not for a while.” He remained silent and you found that as your queue to close the door. “I hope you have a good life, Hoseok. Goodbye.”

Click.

Hit. Game over.

-

A/N: I wanna do a part 2, what do you think? Message me or put in my ask if you think I should 😊