Flash Frowns Internally—or Maybe He Does It Externally, Too—as He Stares Down A Guy Who Has Obvious

"What kind of unforseen yet completely predictable stupidity have your ruined my day with this time?"

— Squidward

I feel like I’ve read this fanfic before, I just cannot remember the title of it

Draco Malfoy: you look like shit, Weasley.

Ron Weasley: **smirks** but still fuckable, right?

5000 likes!

I’m really sad that, since Beautiful Audrey isn’t a famous Korean movie, the soundtrack doesn’t have lyrics on YouTube.

If you like Park Ji-Hoon from “Weak Hero Class 1 & 2” or “At a Distance, Spring is Green”, then you should watch Beautiful Audrey.

Songs from Beautiful Audrey that I really liked:

“My Name” - Mother’s (Kim Jung-Nan) theme [singer unknown]

“I'm Sorry” Ji-Eun’s (Kim Bo-Young) theme, song to her mother [Singer : Kim Seohyun]

“I'm Sorry” English Version

Wait for Me?

A presence appears on his vulnerable side. He doesn't turn to look nor does he tense nor let his breath get caught in his throat. “Hi,” he whispers into the tranquil quiet.

“Hi,” he hears barely.

He hums. “Would you mind if you transfer to my other side? It's hard to hear you when your words are this gentle and quiet....and, I want to see you.”

It was quiet but he felt his companion move to his right side. Still, he does not turn to look at the tuft of brown hair better, or the ever-so-slightly blemished warm skin. He merely looks on, admiring the astonishing view that the high vantage point gives him. 

He sees hands fiddling, a rare sign of vulnerability that Zuko finds out of character—to give Zuko with trust he does not know he deserves. A long beat and Jet finally talks 

“Did it ever mean anything?”

“It always did, for me. My heart has always been printed on my sleeve and I am not dishonest enough to be able to fake such authenticity.”

Silence.

“I did lie to you. I have lied about my name, and my character. I have lied about my scar, and about a lot else. But my feelings were as true as the sky is blue. Please, do not doubt that aspect of me.”

Yet another meaningful silence, a moment for his words to settle in Jet's mind.

“It hurt.”

“I know.” And he did. To find that your lover is part of a nation that you so passionately hate. To find that your lover's people were the cause of your misery, the slaughterers of your family and of your friends and of your village. That is a pain pill hard to swallow. “And I'm sorry.”

But, at the same time, Zuko was a child younger than Jet when it happened. And Zuko's only part in that act of sin was his ignorance and complacency. He does not say these things, for he knows he cannot handle Jet's wrath right now. His bellowing voice and his words. 

“I hurt you too,” Jet mumbles almost too quietly for Zuko to pick up on, but he did. Mumbled with a cracking voice.

“You did.”

“I've hurt so many people.”

“You have.”

Jet bends over, forehead touching his hands from where they rest, clasped together, on the half wall before him. He takes a shaky breath and clenches his jaw. And then he straightens himself, moves his hands to grip the wall tightly instead, neck craned upwards and eyes blinking quickly. “What do I do?”

He turns to look at him—looks at the way his tanned skin glows warmly under the golden rays of the sun setting in the horizon, his straw-like hair that tells of a hardened life billowing with the gentle winds, and his brown eyes glinting with amber and hazel...yet dim and haunted. 

Reluctance outlines his hands as his pale fingers glows almost white in contrast to the gaunt cheek to caresses. A miniscule twitch in Jet's hands doesn't go unnoticed, the clench of his fists and the frightful and hesitant gulp of saliva. Yet, despite it all—the fears and the doubts and the distrust, he leans his cheek into Zuko's awaiting palm.

Zuko looks at him with soft and fond eyes, the gold of his eyes glowing brighter than ever with the concentration of the sun in them. Jet looks at him from under his dark lashes for a miniscule moment before looking to the colorful sky. 

Tentatively, Jet's calloused hands—and thin, thinner that it was before, thinner than it should have been, malnourishment highlighting the jutted bones of his knuckles—wraps itself around Zuko's, guiding it gently towards his chapped lips to press a kiss against his reddish knuckles that sends a message of a thousand unspoken words. 

Jet lets his lips rest on the back of Zuko's hand, and in his humble ethereal glow, Zuko sees all the reasons his heart started fluttering for the man in front of him. Jet's eyes are closed and his hand squeezes his a bit tighter, as if he was daydreaming of a universe beyond their knowledge or maybe he was reminiscing of memories that feel out of reach—too good to be true but no less real. 

And Zuko can only watch and ingrain the image into his brain for his mind to see and remember for all the days to come, to dream about in the star-filled nights, to feel when his memories slowly leave him in his old age—if he survives long enough to reach that.

But nothing can stay in the beautiful stasis for long, no matter how much he wishes it to, for time is never on their side and time will continue to take if he lets it. So he turns his hand in Jet's grip and watches him sadly open his eyes with a knowing and resigned glint. He holds Jet's chin and lifts it upward, commanding Jet to look at him. 

Then he goes back to caressing Jet's cheek, letting the pads of his finger ink all of his wishes and desires on Jet's skin, hoping he is open enough for Jet to understand—and he does, if the shaky exhale was anything to go by. Zuko smiles affectionately.

“Let them learn, Jet, let them learn to forgive. And if they cannot, then you learn to let go, to move on and move forward, to heal.” He gently brushes away the fallen lash on Jet's cheek. “Heal, Jet. If not for yourself, then for anyone else. And if not for anyone else, then for yourself.”

Jet's eyes gained a teary sheen and he opened his mouth a bit then closed it with an exhale, pressing himself deeper into the soft touch of Zuko's. And he opens his mouth again to whisper, “I don't know how.”

He gazes into Jet's eyes, thoughts swirling behind the amber hue of his eyes. To say: you will figure it out, that is a promise and that is inevitable. Try and you will succeed. Open your mind and see yourself and see the world, see, Jet. Look and you're going to find what you seek. But for you to be able to move forward, you need to let go, Jet. 

To tell him: you are not alone, not as much as you seem to think. And you will never be alone because I will always be there, at your beck and call. No matter what, I'll figure out a way to get to you.

Instead he says only, “you need to stop focusing on every bad thing and you need to start accepting the good things, or else you'll forever be miserable.”

“I don't deserve to…” Jet trails off.

And Zuko understands what was left unsaid. Because he's felt it so passionately, and believed in it for so long. And he knows it's not true.

“You don't need to deserve happiness, you just need to be. You've done awful things, yes, so make amends. You can't take it all back, but you can't swallow in despair forever.”

Jet looks at him, trying so hard to keep the tears at bay. He understands, just as he understood all of the messages sent in Longshot's language, all the words spelled out in Jet's eyes. 

He presses a passionate kiss to Jet's other cheek and answers, “I will wait. For however long it will take you. For however long it takes you to find yourself and then find me.”

“And if I don't show up?”

He was silent, tasting words and sentences in his tongue, turning them on all sides to formulate something of an answer. “I’ll still love you.” 

Jet hiccups and his breath hitch and tears fall down and he sniffles.

“But I’ll learn to move on, even though I’ll never stop loving you or learn how to. I’ll move on. And maybe we both would find someone else, but you will still be someone I have loved and I will love.”

“Even if I'm like this?”

“Yes.”

“I'm sorry.”

He presses a kiss to Jet's cheeks.

“I know, and I have never held it against you, but I have long since forgiven you.”

He presses their foreheads together.

“Say it and I will, Jet.”

Jet remains quiet but soon—”Wait for me, please....Zuko?”

He smiles as he feels Jet's breath against his lips. 

“Okay.”

What are the odds of one sibling being really pale and the other sibling having a darker complexion?? Because Human!Twilight and Human!Shining Armor being brown and white respectively...IDK actually. Like, the art for when they make them have IRL skin tones. Then again, Twilight Velvet is grey.

For those who saw my earlier posts, nevermind. This thread was so long, I cannot even.

I wanna thank Pinterest for showing me this post:

Pinterest

Flash Thompson's flinch (excuse the language) | Andrew garfield spiderman, Thompsons, Amazing spiderman

Sep 18, 2015 - Flash Thompson's flinch (excuse the language)

CHIS ZYLKA’S ACTING IS ON POINT!! I didn’t even notice this when I watched it years ago in cinemas. Yeah, this is an 8-years-later reblog, don’t judge me

You wouldn't flinch if someone was going to throw a basketball at your head?

[x]

I’m sure you think you’re being original, but I’ve literally (and I do mean literally) seen about a hundred people respond with nearly the exact same wording, and every single one of you seem to be missing the point.

My post:

Are we really not talking about this flinch?

Flash Thompson’s father, canonically, is an abusive drunk.

Are we really not talking about this flinch

About a HUNDRED people have responded with various versions of your snotty question. For the most part I’ve just sat back and watched other people explain to you smug whiner-babies why you’re being ignorant high-and-mighty fucks who are completely missing the point of the post, but you came directly to my ask box and you went on anon, so it’s my turn.

Usually I don’t get bitchy when people send me asks, but this is as much in response to the other hundred of you as it is to you personally, so be warned, I’m not going to be nice about this.

Of course he’s flinching because of the fucking basketball. Nearly everyone would flinch in this context. Literally no one is denying that???

However, most people wouldn’t react to a basketball coming at their face by turning their back to it, getting low to the ground, and bracing their entire body. Most people would flinch back, maybe take a step back, and try to block the ball with their arm and shoulder. Most people wouldn’t have that expression of shame and dawning comprehension afterward. 

Do you know the difference between a bad actor and a good actor?

A bad actor tells one story.

A good actor tells a multitude of stories.

Of fucking course he’s flinching because there’s a basketball coming at his fucking head, that’s story #1, that’s literally the scene, NO ONE is debating or disputing that. There is no other reason for him to be flinching in this moment. 

The WAY he flinches is what’s interesting, because that’s story #2.

He turns away and brings his forearms up to cover his face — children in physically abusive homes learn to protect their faces at all costs so that no one sees evidence of the abuse and asks about it.

He braces his whole body.

He gets low to the ground.

And after he registers what’s happened he looks ashamed, humiliated, angry at HIMSELF, not at Peter.

When you react to something involuntarily, because of a learned behavior, because of anxiety or fear, and you realize you’ve reacted incorrectly to the situation at hand? That you’re using the wrong social script, and your reaction was disproportionate to the situation? THAT is the fucking look on his face afterward.

Anyone with anxiety can relate to that expression. That expression says “fuck, I fucked up, now everyone knows.” It’s fear and shame and self loathing, and it has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with the fucking basketball.

Would I flinch if someone was going to throw a basketball at my head? Yes, of course I would. But I wouldn’t flinch like THAT. I’m going to go out on a limb here, since you’re being an asshole about this, and say neither would you.