i watch it play out on my facebook feed. a cutesy video plays about a wife and a husband texting each other. she bothers him with messages, he almost types “fuck off bitch” but says something nice instead. in this video, the wife is at fault. he doesn’t listen to her, he doesn’t come home, he ignores her messages. she’s a crazy bitch for getting mad at him.
my teacher asked us why marriage rates are going down. what do i know. i see instagram posts where a girl makes a joke about chloroforming a boy and i don’t find it funny. i see plenty of people who are perfectly happy and i see just as many who are broken, deeply. i see boys all the time unable to meet their girlfriend halfway - stuck, somehow, wanting to be open but knowing he can’t be. there’s a theory that the reason so many women are unhappy is that women have multiple deeply intimate relationships in their friend groups while men only have a partner. isn’t that sad. isn’t it strange.
the girl i knew in high school says “omfg this is me and u dan”. she’s talking about a post where married couples want to kill each other. my mother once asked me why i am so scared of touching. why the first time people show affection is the same time i start running. the comedian onstage uses his wife as a trampoline. all around me, people are laughing. the trouble is that jokes always have a bit of truth in them. i almost text him “haven’t heard from you in a while” but instead i turn off my phone.
there’s a lot of things i don’t understand, i guess. bachelor parties where everyone gets wrecked to celebrate his last days of “freedom”. the idea men are giving up so much to be with just one woman. the idea that a woman who is showing toxic behavior is just a bitch, and not a serious threat. what do i know. sometimes it makes me sick. when i was little i believed in love.
but why do people constantly equate nightmares with marriage?
he asked me what my deal was. i spend a lot of time sleeping. i feel nothing. i can’t bring myself to care about important things. i fixate on the smallest things. drive myself up a wall or else make no contact at all. my deal is that i don’t know how to be real anymore. i am unstitched. i have no idea if i even exist.
He is skilled, he is hot-blooded, he collects his bastards like stray kittens - and he is the Prince of Dorne. But even somebody like Damianos Martell can manage to step into a nest of vipers. He did exactly that when he accidentally crippled the eldest Tyrell son, Auguste, in a tournament, pissing off the whole lot of Highgarden. Auguste Tyrell is not only their heir, but one of the last Blackfyres through his maternal line. And some people want to believe it wasn’t an accident at all…
Despite the rumours and his family bearing a deep grudge against the Martells, Auguste and Damianos quickly became friends after the accident. Even his little brother, Laurent, eventually warmed up after endless months of vicious stares. Tyrell’s little rose turns out to be brilliantly witty, more thorns than petals. Yet, he blushes prettily whenever Auguste teases him with an embarrassing childhood story, in which Laurent thought for the longest time (because of the old Targaryen/Blackfyre traditions) he is to marry his own brother as a grown up, telling every adult complimenting him that he is already promised. The Dornish prince cannot help but to grow fond of the brothers.
Years later, Damianos emerges victoriously in another tournament and is to crown his Queen of Love and Beauty. There’s a flood of shocked gasps going through the crowd when he places the winter roses on Laurent Tyrell’s head, the flowers as blue as his eyes. “Why,” Damianos proclaimes, “it’s all the grace and courtesy he deserves.”
Since then, Damianos has had quite the reputation for letting tournaments turn out scandalously!
How would draco react to going on the camping trip with the golden trio? If harry and draco were in a relationship and he refused to stay behind like ginny, what would happen? I have this vision in my head of draco cursing out nature and asking the heavens why did he have to fall in love with harry bloddy potter!
I can totally see that. I definitely think Draco would be the complaining type.
“Yes, Potter, all of this stuff I packed is necessary and I cannot get rid of a single thing.”
“For Merlin’s sake could you stop almost dying every five seconds!”
““No, Potter, I most certainly will not eat whatever that is that you’re pretending is food. I’d rather starve to death than be killed by your cooking.”
“I should’ve known this was going to be a disaster. Just look at where we’re camped out. There are sticks and dirt and we can’t even use magic to warm ourselves up right now I’m going to freeze to death and I’ll have you know it will be all your fault, Potter.”
But also, for all of Draco’s complaining there would be things like…
Draco refusing to sleep all night, his fingers tracing the dark circles under Harry’s eyes as he fitfully sleeps
Draco doing whatever small things he can to bring Harry comfort, like warming charms when its safe to do so, or a cushioning charm on the ground. And he doesn’t say anything because it seems stupid and insignificant in the face of trying to escape Voldemort but he feels useless and wants to take care of Harry
Sleepless nights with their back to a tree, shivering in the dark, dirty and cold but both breathing, both alive; and that’s enough
Draco whispering every night when Harry falls asleep “I’m gonna love you forever you fucking idiot so don’t you dare die on me.”
Draco pretending he is horrified by Harry’s cooking and refusing to eat, getting Harry completely pissed off, except the only reason Draco does it is so that Harry will eat his portion of food because Harry looks so weak, so thin and Draco knows he won’t eat it any other way so he does whatever it takes to give Harry the only kind of strength he can offer
ohhh, look a headcanon/scenario post! :D this was a whole lot longer than i originally planned, but oh well!! i played around with each of their stories, so i hope you don’t mind <3 <b>you can find JAEHEE, JUMIN and 707′s under the cut! if you have any requests, feel free to shoot them my way. anyway, i hope you enjoy!
RFA + THE MOMENT THEY REALIZE THEY’RE IN LOVE
Yoosung thinks he’s sick.
His heart starts palpitating, his palms
grow sweaty and he’s so out-of-focus that he’s losing his streak on the LOLOL
leadership boards. He downs a cup of coffee, glaring at his bedroom clock,
which stared back with a 22:12pm in bright blue lights. It’s way too early to
be feeling tired, he thinks.
He sighs, exiting the server and
letting the game’s background music blast through his computer’s speakers. He
places a hand to his neck, feeling for a warm temperature, only to end up
confused as he realizes he’s not even remotely feverish. Worriedly, he calls
her up, sure that she would know what’s up with him.
“Hey [Name],” he says, going back to
his desk to take another swig of coffee. He joins another server, hoping LOLOL
would help calm his nerves. Why was he always so nervous when he was talking
with her? He prattles on about his supposed “symptoms” as he patiently waits to
be connected to the server.
“Sounds like you’re in love,” she
suddenly blurts out. He almost sprays his coffee all over his computer at those
words. He can tell she’s joking. She was joking, right? Right? He tries
to come up with a reply, but all that comes out of him is a strangled sound. He
hears her laughing from the other end. “Ohhh, bulls-eye! Who’s the lucky
person? Is it me you’ve fallen for?”
Yoosung’s eyes widen at this, and his
heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest and start tap-dancing on
his desk. He’s stunned to a silence; his mind is racing, wondering whether or
not to confirm her statement. Well, that would certainly explain why he always
felt so worked up around her. Before he could even answer her question, he
hears her awkward laughter on the other end of the phone.
“Hey, I was kidding! Playing some LOLOL
might calm your nerves, but I suggest not staying up too late. It might
actually be a fever, after all.” Yoosung manages to quickly blurt out an
apology as well as a thank you, before wishing her a good night and ending the
call without waiting for her reply. He leans back on his chair, staring at the
cream-colored ceiling above him.
It’s when he places both of his hands on
his chest and feels the rhythmic thumping of his heart. It’s when he tries to
steady his breathing, and when he finally does, he remembers what she said and
wheezes. It’s when he realizes that he knows the answer to her earlier
question, but he was too shy, too scared to actually answer her. It’s when he
makes a promise to tell her, face-to-face and unabashedly, one day. Yoosung’s
eyes linger to his desk clock.
It’s at 22:17pm on a LOLOL-filled
Tuesday night that he realizes that he’s completely, head-over-heels in love with her.
Zen can’t sleep.
He’s lying in bed, positively tired
after a day’s work. He knew he did well earlier, yes, but his own
self-reassuring thoughts did very little for his nerves. Ever since the whole
hacking situation, he’s been on edge during his performances; he can’t help but
be upset at himself for not giving his all for his audiences.
Despite being an “egotistical prick”,
as Jumin calls it, he was often hit by waves of doubt during these late
sleepless nights. His self-reassuring thoughts began to shift into ones of
doubt, pushing him to twist and turn in his suddenly uncomfortable bed.
Was he a genuinely good actor? Did
people watch his musicals for his talents or for his looks? Would he ever be
more than just a handsome face up on the stage? He was jolted back to reality
by the sudden ringing of his cellphone. He begrudgingly reached out to view the
caller ID: [Name].
Without a second thought, he
immediately answers the call. Her cheerful voice was tinged with a hint of her
own weariness. He feels his heart begin to swell, savoring the way her voice
says his name. “Can’t sleep either?” he says, genuinely happy to find her
calling him out of all the other RFA members.
“Yeah,” he hears her say. “I was hoping
you were awake. I’m glad I was actually right.” His chest tightens at this, and
he can’t help but smile at the thought of her thinking about him at such an
hour. He finds a sort of solace in her, thankful for her constant presence
amidst all the happenings in his life.
The two converse, and he finds the
weight on his shoulders gradually become lighter. His heart is both calm and
erratic, and he finds himself laughing together with her, despite being miles
apart. When he hears her congratulate him for the show he put on, for being
such an amazing actor on-stage, for doing so well, even if he may not believe
so, he almost starts crying.
“You’re doing so well, Zen. I’m sure
all your fans can agree that you’re doing so much more. I mean that, truly. If
you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m here. So is Jaehee and the rest of the
RFA,” she says from the other end of the line, and he allows himself to think
that she means it. No, he knows she means it; it’s in the way that she speaks
to him that he knows she’s saying nothing but the truth.
It’s when she says her good night that
he catches himself almost saying it. He purses his lips, blundering out a good
night of his own before slamming the END CALL button. It’s when his eyes shoot
wide open, and he feels a ditzy smile gracing his lips. It’s when his
self-doubting thoughts are replaced by thoughts of her. He brings his pale
hands to his hair, and he can’t help but marvel at how much she affects him.
It’s when he catches himself thinking
about her in wonder does he realize that he’s crazy about her.
if the light came down the right way it could have shone into the dark places. you said that i was an adventure you couldn’t swallow but you forgot about all the places the floorboards were rotted through. i am nothing but empty bedrooms. people move into me and mention that there’s a feeling of despair. people move into me but they never stay long enough to figure out why it’s there. i’m a haunted house, you see. good for a night and leave the next morning. i’m what gets your heartrate going but you’d never actually be with me long enough to call me a home. i mean for an adventure i feel more like a nightmare. i mean for someone who smiles a lot i’m barely even there.
He doesn’t answer him, typing away at his keyboard in a way that’s visibly agitated, or at least irritable. What are normally soft, smooth clicks against the mac’s surface are now harsh, broken-sounding; each near-slam of his slim fingers makes a sharp clack in the quiet of the haus’ living room.
“Nursey,” Jack says again.
The continued silence makes it clear that he’s being ignored. Inwardly, he sighs.
“Twenty-eight, your captain is talking to you. Answer, now.”
At this, the typing stops. Nurse looks up at him, slowly, and his face is so uncomfortably nondescript and blank that Jack cringes a little inside of himself.