#but i might exert some self control. might use a quote from the conversation with general oliver at the end of the game idk

[glamfellens]

heehee

[hoidn]

my big reference post of tritype 145 - The Researcher Archetype. everything copy/pasted as-is. some deletion; none correction.

145 Overview [source]

If you are a 145, you are diligent, intuitive, and knowledgeable. You want to be ethical, original and wise. Highly intellectual, you are focused on what you perceive is correct and above reproach. Research oriented, you seek and quote the opinions of experts to avoid being seen as ignorant. Your life mission is to study and learn as much as you can and then teach the wisdom of what you have learned to others. A true researcher, you are happiest using your investigative skills. You can be so identified with the information that you have gathered and the correct way of doing things that you feel exhausted and can appear to be a persnickety know it all. 478 and 451 are very different types of 4. The 478 is intensely individualistic and more assertive whereas the 451 is individualistic but much more introspective and reserved. The 478 is somewhat optimistic and focuses more on the need for inspiration than the 451. The 451 is more particular and is more motivated by gathering meaningful information that is useful. (4)-5-1 - The Competent 4 4-(5)-1 - The Idealistic 5 4-5-(1) - The Withdrawn 1 Intellectual. May be involved in philosophy. They enjoy coming to understand themselves and their world. Calling all 145s... You have reported a strong need to be above criticism and to avoid the glare of judgment and scrutiny. You have also reported how difficult it is for you to express yourself especially if you feel emotional. As a 415, you would need to carve a distinct image of being unique, appropriate and wise. The 3 together create a defense strategy that focuses on getting the information needed 'to be correct' to feel safe... No one wants to be wrong, but this Tritype tends to easily feel self-conscious and can be shy. So, the 145 researches to have something interesting to say and to be above criticism. The 415's I know are most capable of intellectual circumspection with a twist of the romantic and mysterious. They seem to balance out the emotional realm with the intellectual, but sometimes my 415 friends can be overly critical and defiant of any thing that is stereotypical or oppressive that could impact their search for an ideal mate...Another thing about the 415s I know is they are very perfectionist, overly sensitive to any perceived stereotyping, and an academically-minded four, but they never quite feel self-satisfied or finished, sometimes falling into long states of procrastination...They have an amazing ability to dissect their own emotions rationally... Think Frustration (1-4) meets Competence (1-5) meets Withdrawing (4-5)and you get a rather persnickety perfectionist who needs plenty of downtime. On the high side what they produce can be of unparalleled depth and beauty. out of 458/459/451 I'd guess that both 459 and 451 would seem more 5-like (or, more accurately, be more likely to be mis-typed as 5) than 458. 451 is the most 5ish 4. Rational and scientific. 451 - knowledgeable and discerning 4. Most intellectual 4, especially if social subtyle of with a 5 wing. Likes to teach.

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Comparing 1 + 4 Archetypes (145, 146 and 147) [source]

The 3 tritypes concerned with having ONE and FOUR fixes (145, 146 and 147) display those behavioral and psychological patterns :

Anger and Envy combine into a peculiar, reflective personality whose goals entail being able to comprehend and coerce their emotional life into a suitable structure in which they can further refine it into something greater;

Double frustration stance ; the need to feel that life isn't going to fulfill and satisfy its own wishes and wants is enhanced;

Sullen, complex and refined energy;

The structure-building, conscience-driven ONE is at odds with the self-expressing, moody FOUR;

There is a real conflict between the ONE's need to be removed from it instinctive nature and the FOUR need to keep in touch with its original nature;

Most likely combination to be seen as original, critical and seeking refinement;

Differences Between Archetypes

Expressing Creativity

• 145s aren't known for being truly creative tritypes, but they can show it by exploring new areas of knowledge that haven't been discovered or touched upon. They are excellent at finding the missing link between two theories or simply by researching enough on something;

Intellectual Curiosity

• 145s in often considered to be one of the most intellectual and cerebral archetypes. This is because they tend to dive deep into a subject and look for what's missing in order to make the exploration throrough and complete. Because of their capacity to amass large quantity of data, they can be known as a know-it-all;

Dealing with External Structure • 145s prefer to work within their own boundaries and strucutural approaches as they color and personalize external ones in order to work with them (most of the time);

Potential Problems • 145s can be so identified in pursuing additional knowledge and getting accurate information that this dauting task can become exhausting and leave you irritating and intolerant of outside advices. This tritype is also very critical and prone to correct others in their observations, making it frequently unliked and annoying if this attitude is persistent in time. Given that this archetype also tend to be very withdrawn and value their alone time, they should try giving others the benefit of the doubt and allow themselves to be educated freely and not only by verifiable sources;

Patterns & Structure • 145s are triple analytical and studying. This means that this archetype has all the three enneatypes in each center of intelligence that need to search a subject in depth, both intellectually and emotionally in order to come to an accurate and detailled conclusion. They can't be satisfied with normal or readily-found data, as they want to be as precise as possible in order to develop their compency and find new info that might have been overlooked. [...] Sexual subtypes are very intense and passionate and often feel compelled to research about taboo or bizarre subjects that make them feel connected to the human body in some way. They have a combination of prickly and passionate attitude that make them quite magnetic even though they want privacy too like the self-preservation subtype. They love to have deep and detailed conversations with their loved ones. 

• 145s' most common MBTI types are : INFJ (451) [#GPOY], INTJ (514), INTP (541) and sometimes INFP (451). This tritype is most commonly found within introverted intuitives and are more rarely found elsewhere. 

• 146s are more doubtful of what they know to be true than 145s, who in turn are more confident in their capacity to understand and accumulate information;

• 145s are prickly and hard to know personally

-----

Comparing 4 + 5 Archetypes (458, 459 and 145) [source]

The 3 tritypes concerned with having FOUR and FIVE fixes (458, 459 and 145) display those behavioral and psychological patterns :

Envy and Avarice merge into a very private, introspective and sensitive personality. People with this combination prefer to live through their imagination and have a hard time getting through action in the real world;

Double Withdrawn stance : the need for saving up personal energy and straying away from overwhelming stimulation is increased;

Quiet, meditative, emotional and cerebral energy;

Sensitivity and attachment to emotional states of FOUR is at odds with the detached, aloof stance of FIVE;

There is a conflict between the FOUR’s need to explore their emotional self and the FIVE’s need to maintain a neutral, unbiased stance;

Most likely combination to be seen as introverted, solitary and removed from its environment;

Differences between Archetypes

Relation to Anger

• 145s don’t like it when people don’t follow the same rigorous steps of information gathering and analyzing as they do. They can become frustrated and nitpicky with unmotivated and sloppy people;

Personal Strengths

• 145s are the best at further refining concepts and theories in their respective framework and mapping out uncharted territories thanks to their razor-sharp intellect;

Control from the Environment • 145s are more likely to quietly exert control over their own beliefs and what they perceive as adequate and may try to coerce people into using the same methodology as them;

Possible Mistypes • Sexual FOURS with a 145 tritype may mistype as a 458 because of their passionate nature and their easier access to anger than the other subtypes; [can confirm; cf this post!]

-----

Comparing 1 + 5 Archetypes (125, 135 and 145) [source]

The 3 tritypes concerned with having ONE and FIVE fixes (125, 135 and 145) display those behavioral and psychological patterns :

Anger and Avarice combine into a meticulous, stern and cerebral character. People with this combination are true intellectual who often chose to sacrifice efficiency by focusing more on establishing accurate standards and methods in order to ponder and look at things in a detach manner;

Double competency stance ; the need to detach from emotions and keep an objective eye to solve a problem is enhanced;

Very precise, laser-focused and deep thinker energy;

The conscience-driven, moralisitic ONE is at odds with the detached, system-building FIVE;

There is a conflict between the ONE's need to be right according to internal standards and the FIVE's need to be competend according to objective metrics and pure data;

Most likely combination to be considered intellectual, rational and detached;

Differences Between Archetypes :

Communications skills

• 145s are not prone to be quite social, but are more sensitive to their internal life, making their conversation a bit more heartfelt at times;

Fields of Interests • 145s love to learn about less practical subjects like science, philosophy, the occult, etc;

Social Roles • 145s like to dig deeper into untouched waters and make seemless links between disciplines. They are good at finding out what's missing and what's been overlooked;

Miscellaneous Differences • 145s are less preoccupied by performance and has a harder time to shapeshift than 125s and 135s;

• 145s can be a bit more poetic and mystical in their choice of words.

• 135s are better at making their work look attractive and convincing than 145s, who will prefer the actual content only then showcasing what they've worked on; • 145s are moodier and can have periods of melancholy while 135s are more removed from their emotional states; • 125s care deeply about what people think of them, even though they don't show it often. They are also able to ''mirror smile'' more often than 145s; • 135s can work on projects faster than 145s who will take their time more to fully grasp the actual subject; • 145s are more dependent of their internal state than 125s, who in turn are more affected by their emotional environment.

-----

[source]

Both the 451 and 459 are reserved and introspective and self conscious. The 451 is very critical of themselves and others. They are very particular and have a lot of shoulds. They can be strident. Dissatisfaction is visible as their energy can be prickly. 

[cadomoisspokenfor]

Legion Rewatch Notes,

Chapter 4:

Frizzytop

I theorized in episode 2 that David could see through the 4th wall, or at least into a different universe. At the start of this episode Oliver outright breaks the 4th wall. Perhaps powerful reality benders just have that capability. If David knows, and Oliver knows, then Farouk definitely knows.

“A great philosopher once wrote, ‘In times of peace, the war like man attacks himself.’ This is the route of all our problems.”

“We are the route of all our problems. Our confusion, our anger, our fear of things we don’t understand.”

If we carry those 2 quotes throughout the rest of the show, then no doubt the tragedies that happen later on are caused by a collective misunderstanding of each other. And a collective lashing out at that misunderstanding of each other.

“Violence, in other words, is ignorance.”

The most central theme of the show is empathy vs fear. I s’pose whenever there’s a conflict in the show we’re supposed to be asking whether the characters should answer with empathy or fear. Certain characters lives have revolved heavily around fear. And that informs their decision making quite a bit. This will all come up again at multiple points throughout the show.

Syd... probably can’t break the 4th wall. So maybe it’s most logical to interpret this as her inner monologue. Very Jessica Jones esque.

The same voice lines from when Syd was searching for David in episode 1 are played. I guess there go to whenever Davids lost (whether in the world or in his mind) is to transmit Syds voice calling his name in hopes he’ll hear it and come back.

Kerry can pick locks.

The concept of “bad mutants” is well established amongst the veteran summerland crew. Ptonomy’s caution about David is probably because he feels he has a selfish vibe, and that’s a well known red flag of “bad mutants.”

It should also be noted he’s partly afraid of him because he has so much trouble understanding him. His powers, which when used affectively are essentially the ability to understand where someone’s coming from, keep getting overrided by Davids.

It’s now to the point where Ptonomy is doubting his own ability to tell what’s real and what’s not real. He was pretty confident he’d always know somehow in episode 2. Now, not so much.

Ptonomy very early on is open to the idea that David both has powers and psychological issues. “He’s unstable. You try hearing voices for 10-15 years, self medicate with hard drugs and then get dumped in a looney bin.”

Ptonomy also determines that because of his instability combined with the fact he has powers, David is a bomb waiting to go off.

I suppose if we’re trying to figure out their logic with the whole “the combination of being mentally ill and having powers makes him dangerous”, and considering that their right now going over an incident where David robbed his therapist for drug money and then bashed the doctors head in when he came back, the direct concern is that David makes bad decisions and/or selfish decisions (at least), and if he were to make a bad decision regarding his powers a lot of innocent people could get very badly hurt. Or killed. Along with the worry that the voices in his head don’t exactly give him the most angelic of advice at times, and because of his powers he’s very capable of fulfilling their wills, so to speak.

Based on Olivers speech at the beginning of the episode though, it might be safe to say the overall message is instead of acting on fear they should act on empathy and help David overcome his problems instead of vilifying him for his mental illness.

Syd suggest Davids hiding his real memories behind a fake ones and Ptonomy says she going through a lot of effort just to convince herself Davids a good guy. I never really got what he meant, but I guess what he meant is that Syd’s trying to find a justifiable reason for why David would attack Dr Poole like he did when the obvious answer is just “He’s got violent tendencies.” I always just thought she was genuinely hypothesizing, ya know, trying to solve the case. Maybe she was and Ptonomy’s just mean.

“I was looking for the man I loved. Or did I just love the idea of him? The face he showed me?” Doubt springs up early. Why can none of the characters reconcile that a person can have both good and evil in them at the same time? That’s... all people, in fact.

When Kissinger ask if Amy knew David had powers Amy says, “I think so.” Amy potentially acted on fear as well, in regards to her and Davids childhood that is.

Kerry mostly only thinks of herself in relation to Cary.

Cary misses Kerry when she’s gone. Even besides the roles they fill for each other, they generally enjoy each others company. They’re quite literally as close as 2 people can be. Each one living for the sake of the other.

Davids once again surrounded by a crowd of people all yelling in his face. After they disappear though he recovers pretty fast. I guess he’s used to it.

Clockworks Podcast pointed out that the music Davids wincing at is sax heavy Jazz, which is (abstractly) the sound The Devil With Yellow Eyes makes whenever he appears. If my theory about David seeing through the 4th wall is correct, then maybe he’s actually hearing that sound whenever TDWYE is around. Alternatively, Farouk blast that in his head everytime to mess with him.

“Sorry... I forgot about your um... I had a similar- proclivity? Malady? I forget the word- what’s the word? I’ve been here a long time.”

If the previous paragraphs are right, Oliver’s probably implying he was also affected by a mental parasite at some point. It might’ve even been what stranded him in the astral plane.

From Davids perspective he skipped over the entire second half of Chapter 3.

Oliver is essentially explaining the plot of the show to David and the audience before it’s even been unfurled.

“You have an unquiet mind, so you war with yourself, like a dog trying to chew off its own tail.”

David’s still in a very pessimistic guilt ridden place at this point in the story. That’s probably the internal war Oliver’s talking about.

... why can’t Oliver leave the astral plane again? If he did have his own mental parasite, it seems long gone by now. If he just can’t find his way back, then how does he do it in Chapter 7?

Syd calls non-mutants “normals.”

“We were the ghost in a haunted house.” ~Syd, Chapter 4

“You think ghost like living in a haunted house?” ~Syd, Chapter 12

Why does Syd keep hallucinating The Angriest Boy? Or is that just visual metaphor?

Ptonomy’s a very, “Get the job done and look classy while doing it” sorta guy.

“To fight and conquer in all our battles is not supreme excellence; supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy's resistance without fighting.” ~Sun Tzu, Ptonomy

Is the above quote perhaps relevant to the shows message during other conflicts throughout the series? Could it be subtly implying all the characters should always look for non-violent ways to defeat their enemies? I.e. not just a classy line from Ptonomy, but a statement of themes within the show.

The food David, Philly, and Dr Poole are having in Philly’s memories is cherry pie.

In Philly’s memory David says, “I don’t keep a lot of stuff.” And Philly comments that there’s no evidence David had a past. At least among the things David owns at that point. I know Farouk edited a lot of Davids memories, but why did David himself get rid of so much physical stuff? Syd said the reason he broke into Dr Pooles that day was to destroy their taped conversations. What’s compelling him to erase himself from existence? Is it as simple as “Farouk”? It seems like on a deeper level David doesn’t want anyone to know too much about him. Everyone’s only allowed to know what he tells them. His way of feeling in control I guess.

Philly did the classic “I can fix him” when she started dating David.

Philly implies David going off his medication and keeping bad company is what caused the downfall of their relationship. And subsequently his life, probably.

Despite everything, Philly still feels sympathetic towards David.

“Whoever altered Davids memory-“ Ptonomy very early on humors the idea that Davids being acted on by a 3rd party.

The longer Kerry is away from Cary, the more antsy she is for a fight. She’s not supposed to have to sit through all this “boring stuff.”

Ptonomy left after he got the info on Pooles location from Philly. He probably wanted to get the rest of the information from the source. Ironically, they probably woulda gotten closer to the real answer if he’d just looked a bit longer.

Sys proudly says “Yes” when “Dr Poole” ask if she’s in love with David.

It never really comes up again, but Kerry and Cary are physically linked. Maybe even psychologically. When one of them gets hurt, or even exerts their body a lot, the other can feel it, even if their own body doesn’t take on the actual damage. This is still true even if they’re miles apart.

Syds definitely portrayed as the hero at the end of this scene.

“All those years of practice-“ A part of David always knew he had powers. I wonder, did he practice a little in secret? Or is he saying he was at Summerland for years? That doesn’t really add up. But then... what does he mean by years?

Lenny encourages David to get angry so that his powers will strengthen enough for them to overpower the astral plane. Sort of... cheating his way out. David will later achieve more feats of strength through honing his emotions. Like many heroes, his level of power is intrinsically linked to his emotional state.

Very directly here, Davids violence is caused by ignorance. He doesn’t know Syd switched bodies with Walter and is trying to escape.

[nautiscarader]

Calm yo’ tits - a present fic for ZekkKiray

Rating: E, ladynoir/Adrinette (post-reveal), 9143 words (by notepad++ count, 8886 according to Ao3, so one of you is LYING)

Read on Ao3

 contains breastfeeding, lactation and mooificated large breasts.

Now, if you look at the tags (and the word count), and you know me, you might be understandably confused and worried that I might have been possessed, hacked by a Russian bot, or simply gone mad. The last part is very likely, but it is not the reason of this fic's existence.

The fic you are about to read is a present for my buddy, ZekkKiray, a vastly superior fic writer, who on one occasion quoted my works as inspiration for his, which solves once and for all the age-old philosophical dilemma, proving that something can indeed come from nothing.

I knew, to some extent, what his favourite kinks are, which sadly, were not exactly compatible with mine. So I needed to find a fandom we both like, and where I wouldn't have to worry too much about silly things like logic or common sense.

Enter "Miraculous Ladybug".

To put it simply, this fic is a bit of crack, I tried working some elements from my personal headcanons, and it doesn't break, assuming you don't push it too hard. More importantly, though, it's a birthday crack. Happy birthday, pal!

Also, this takes place after S3 finale.

================================

Sitting tensely in her chaise-longue, Marinette eyed her tutor and a temporary enemy with a keen eye. She has taken many exams in her young adult life, but this one might have been the most important so far. She concentrated on the small, levitating creature that flew that past her head, and when Tikki revealed a card, Marinette instantly replied.

- Zaggu, gnu kwami, the hero is Ram-page, and has ability to shapeshift terrain. Strong, but not too agile. Best pair with Pegasus for optimum efficiency. - she spoke quickly. - Yes! That's the last one! - Tikki cheered, flying to nuzzle Marinette's cheek.

For the past few days, Marinette has been extensively trying to fill in the shoes of Master Fu, as the new Miraculous guardian, and she has passed her self-imposed exam with flying colours, guessing each and every Kwami Tikki has tested her with.

- Well, if there are any challenging akumas, you will surely be able to know how to dispose of them! - Tikki cheered. - I sure hope so. - Marinette smiled - But now I have to study for actual exams, Tikki.

Marinette walked to her desk, took her college textbooks and opened them, her other hand already deep in the bowl of fruit snacks she prepared beforehand, knowing of the revision session ahead of her.  

- Don't you want to study with Adrien? - Tikki flew by her head - Last time you said he's helped you a lot. - I wish. - Marinette sighed dreamily at the sound of her boyfriend's name - And he did, but...

Her cheeks suddenly became slightly deeper shade of burgundy, and she shied away from her Kwami. The mere thought of her boyfriend made her instantly forget about her duties, both as a college student and as a protector of Paris. She let herself indulge in a fantasy of what could happen if the two were put together in her room, and were given a choice between studying for a very boring exam, or doing anything else... However, Marinette had to exert some self-control, and with her friend acting like a second moral compass flying next to her, she had to abandon of her daydream.

- You know, this is quite an important exam, I don't want to be easily distracted and-Adrien!

She let out a gasp when her phone buzzed, and she grabbed it to answer at once. Tikki smiled, watching as her friend melts in her chair at the sound of Adrien's voice. Something told her she's not gonna do any revisions today.

===================

In his dark lair, Hakwmoth was listening. With closed eyes, he concentrated his powers to filter out hundreds of voices, trying to find the loudest and angriest, speaking with pure rage and despair.

He heard squabbling teenagers and forgot about them at once.

He heard depressed, neglected workers and didn't give them a second chance.

He heard a man crying, pitiful and heartbroken, because of his beloved pigeo-NO, NOT HIM AGAIN, THIRD SODDING TIME THIS MONTH.

Gabriel sighed and closed the aperture overlooking Paris. Finding a good source for akuma was sometimes surprisingly difficult. So many voices, so many possible candidates. And yet, again and again, he has failed.

Gabriel stepped down into the staircase that brought him down to his office, and was not surprised to find Nathalie waiting for him.

- Anything new for me, Nathalie? - he corrected his glasses - Just one call from the office of Coco Marocco. They asked for a call-back... - Nathalie paused and dropped her formal attitude - Gabriel, is everything alright?

She gently put her hand on his shoulder, and his body twitched in an instinct to brush it off. But he restrained himself, paused and took another deep breath.

- It's sometimes so... difficult. To find a good one... - I know.

He looked back at her and gave her a rare smile, saying much more than he could have at the time.

- I'll make the call, thank you.

Nathalie left his office, never taking her eye from him as she closed the door. Gabriel sat in his chair, leaned back and dialled the number.

"Hi there! You have reached the office of Coco Marocco, the finest brand of clothing this side of the equator. For English, press One. Für Deutsch drücken Sie bitte..."

Gabriel sighed and let the voice machine continue its job.

"... for business inquiries, press 7".

Gabriel quickly pressed the number, and was welcomed with the same, lifeless, mechanical voice.

"To access your account, please input the number..."

Without thinking, Gabriel typed the eleven-digit number on the tone dial, and waited for the next step.

"We apologise. In order to access your account, you need to speak the numbers", the voicemail said.

A small vein twitched on Gabriel's forehead. He spoke each digit, loud and clear, hoping beyond hope it registered properly.

"We apologise, please say the number again."

It took him two more tries to reach the next step, and he finally heard the familiar waiting music. The second it stopped, he started speaking, but he was met with even more disappointing reality.

"Hi there! Thank you for your patience. Your call is incredibly important to us. Your number in the waiting queue is... FOURTEEN".

The mobile phone crashed and broke into dozens of pieces when Gabriel tossed it across the room, careful not to destroy the painting of his wife that hid the entrance to his observatory.  

- Why does it have to be so difficult? - he grumbled - Bunch of incompetent buffoons, making the easiest of things so much more difficult-

And then, a sudden burst of inspiration, privileged only to visionaries of his calibre, has dawned on him. He quickly got up and dashed to the elevator, not noticing that the crash alerted Nathalie to peek into his room, as he was too eager to bring his plan into motion as soon as possible.

When he stepped into his lair, he was Hawkmoth again, and he knew exactly what to listen for.  

=====================

The glorious weather outside taunted Nino to end his revisions early and go to the nearest park to bathe in the warm sunshine, but alas, he had to spend his day in the near-empty university library. Unable to concentrate, he took his phone and launched the app to check if the last paper has been graded, but was left with a disappointing, never-ending loading screen. He looked at the only other person in the room, sitting by the computer in the corner, and decided to break the ear-splitting silence.

- Hey dude, are the uni servers down, or something? - And when were they not? - the chubby student replied - The app constantly crashes, we can't even check anything, so I'm just loafing around.

Nino gave him - or rather his large neck -  a curious look and decided to end the conversation swiftly.

- Well, at least tumblog works... - If only - his interlocutor replied, much to Nino's chagrin, without even taking his headset off - Ugh, why did they change the colour of the background again? - You okay, dude? - he looked at his freckled face, and the man gave him a contemptuous look. - Yeah. But you seem to be okay with using this sub-par version - he glanced at his phone.

Nino raised his eyebrow and glanced at his phone.

- What's wrong with that?

The man groaned.

- Ugh, where do I start? The app also never works, they haven't implemented half the features of the desktop version, they still show sponsored messages, I mean, not for me, I hacked them myself away, and the options, can you believe they dared to change the font, it's so unreadable now...

He took a sip of a drink he definitely shouldn't have been allowed to bring into the library.

- But the site is so full of idiots now, it's not even worth going there anymore. Can you believe there are people defending the new Flunkies game? They've added cut content DLCs now! All of them sheep, they will buy whatever you throw at them, and...

The guy continued to complain into what was now a Nino-shaped void, as he left quietly a minute earlier, slightly afraid that arrogance might be catching.  

And he wouldn't be exactly wrong...

If Nino stayed, he would have noticed that the same window that finally tempted him to walk outside with its glorious view, became also a gateway for a dark-purple moth that landed on the student's headset, turning it into equally sinister shade.

Suddenly, the student's complaints, spoken into nothingness, fell on listening ears, and a voice spoke in his head.

- Anton, I am Hakwmoth. I have heard your eloquent delivery, and I must say, you are quite right. - I know I am - Anton replied, without missing a beat. - There are so many little things wrong with this world, and only you know how to fix them... - Yes, I wrote it all on my blog, but now they changed the tagging system, and they don't even filter by the- - The point is - Hakwmoth interrupted him - As all geniuses in history, you are underestimated. Like the Cassandra of the Greek myths, people do not believe you, despite you speaking the truth. But I can change that.

For the first time in rather long time, Anton listened, instead of talking.

- I can give you a platform to speak your wisdom, better than any social media would ever offer. I can give you the voice, and I can give you the chance to make others hear you... And to sway their views at once... - You-you can do that? - Anton asked excitedly, though remaining in his slumped pose. - Oh, yes. - Hakwmoth replied with an oily, greedy voice - All I need in return is for you to bring me Ladybug's and Chat Noir's Miraculi. They are wrong anyway, so they don't deserve them... Embrace my akuma, and rise-

Gabriel paused. He expected to feel something by now, but instead, he heard a quiet tapping.

- Are-are you typing? - Well, duh, someone is wrong on the Internet. - I was going to give you powers to do all of that a hundred times faster... - Gabriel spoke, unable to believe what he heard. - Okay, I'm done. - Anton spoke - What were you saying?

Stopping the urge to find a new herald of his will, Hakwmoth stomped in place and let the power flow through him and into his new apprentice, transforming his somewhat shaggy clothes into regal, red-and-golden attire. The chair he was sitting in merged into his body, becoming a golden, ornamented throne. And finally, the device around his head became a golden, conical-shaped object, perfectly suited for his new puppet, already fitting well in his hand.

- As I was saying... Rise, Echo Chamberlain, and correct the world, for only you know how. - I will! - the new villain spoke into his megaphone and flew out the library in his levitating chair, smashing the window to pieces.

========================

- Adrien!

Marinette jumped the last few stairs of her house and nearly tripped, but fortunately for her, she landed exactly where she wanted - in the arms of her boyfriend, meeting his lips a minute or so earlier than she planned. She smelled his trademark cologne, singed with his name, and she positively melted against his chest, blissfully forgetting about everything around her, until her mother's grunt brought her back to reality.

She jumped to her feet, fixed her hair and waved her parents goodbye, as the two walked outside for a stroll on the sunny day, with just a chance of studying in the park, in between kissing.

- How was the journey? - Marinette asked, eager to learn all about his latest business trip. - Well, nothing too out of the ordinary. I mean, for me. - he quickly added, afraid he sounded too immodest - I wish I could have brought you with me. - No biggie. I know how strict your father can be... - she leaned against his shoulder. - Hey, look, we should get some ice-cream!

Marinette eagerly pulled Adrien towards the famous André's ice-cream stand that now was parked underneath an old arch, and, predictably, has already amassed a small crowd, hungry for some cold refreshment. But as the two approached them, they heard an angry voice, dissonating with the rest.

- What do you mean you don't have chocolate chips? What kind of ice cream vendor are you? - a young woman was arguing with the poor ice-cream maker, who reacted to her anger with his usual jovial, kind behaviour. - Ah, but mademoiselle, I have other toppings, perfect for you! Brandied cherries! Candied walnuts! Peanut brittle! Or even... - he paused, before saying the next word with less enthusiasm in his voice - Sprinkles... - But I want my chocolate chips! - Excuse me. - Marinette gently addressed the angry woman - Don't you think you act a bit selfish? I'm certain André has been working so hard to bring us these phenomenal treats, it's not his fault he ran out of some of the ingredients... - Yeah - Adrien added quickly - And I think you will find some of these are as good as the one you crave, I can attest to that. - Plus, there are a lot of people waiting...

A shared murmur spread behind her, with people nodding, agreeing to Marinette and Adrien's polite reasoning. The woman sighed, and was about to accept the lesser version of her favourite dessert, but the next words she spoke left her mouth with a volume of hundreds of people.

- I WANT CHOCLOATE CHIPS!

Adrien and Marinette instinctively put their hands over the ears, and as they watched in horror, they might have just saved their sanity. Thre eyes of the people surrounding them glew with red tint, and the same people that a moment ago scoffed at the picky woman, now shouted with her.

- WE WANT CHOCLOATE CHIPS!

The two shared a concerned look, and they frantically looked around, knowing full-well it was a work of an akuma. Adrien spotted him first, a bizarre, red-and-gold man flying in his throne above their heads. They gave each other a nod and ran as far away from the crowd.

- André, run, it's an akuma! - Marinette cried, but it was too late.

The kind man now was roaring with them, demanding his own ice cream booth to give him chocolate chips, smashing it with his bare hands. Adrien and Marinette hid in an alleyway, and as soon as they could catch breath, their Kwami escaped their pockets, ready to transform them.

Two bright flashes of light later, Ladybug and Chat Noir escaped the same alleyway, following new source of cries and shouts. Ladybug shoot her yo-yo to climb onto the nearest rooftop, while Chat accompanied her onto his magical baton that propelled him into the air, so they could level with Hawkmoth's new puppet.

- You there! - Marinette shouted, gaining his attention - What are you doing to these innocent people? - And whatever it is, we are here to stop you!

The akumatised man laughed and rolled in the air in his throne.

- I am the Echo Chamberlain, and I have done nothing to them! I merely gave them the same voice I have. How dare these ice cream makers don't have the perfect ice-cream I want!

He grabbed his megaphone and spoke into it, emitting once more a deafening cry that reverberated amongst the buildings.

- People of Paris! Throw away your chains! Go to the barricades! And demand the ice-cream you want! Ha-ha-ha!

At once, the people beneath them, scared and cowering, stood up and rushed to the shops, big and small alike, chanting the same familiar phrase for their now-beloved condiment.  

- You fool! - a sudden voice rang in Anton's head - I gave you the voice so you can get me Ladybug's and Chat Noir's Miraculi! - Oh, right. - he took his megaphone again - But before that, get me Ladybug and Chat Noir! They took all the chocolate chips!

Echo Chamberlain flew onto his throne, leaving Ladybug and Chat Noir with the horde of people, that now began surrounding them with his single command. The two thought that they were safe on the rooftop of the building, but the angry people began climbing each other, forming human ladders, and in matter of seconds, the two had to escape in the same way they got there to begin with.

- He's using some sort of mind control! - Ladybug spoke, when they landed on slightly taller building, though they've already heard the clatter of broken glass beneath them. - The akuma must be in his megaphone. - Chat added - Also, I never thought people like chocolate chips so much. - I don't think they do. I think he likes it, and so he makes other people like the same thing.

Ladybug took a cautious look down, spotting some people rushing away from the angry mob.

- And I think he needs to target like-minded people. Or at least those that share some form of opinion with him... - she pondered. - Great observation, but may I add one? Duck!

Chat Noir pressed Ladybug's head down as a carton full of ice-cream cones flew right through the space once occupied by her head. The two rushed to their feet again, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, escaping the swarm of zombiefied people.

- Maybe there will be fewer of them here... - Chat spoke, but he was immediately proven wrong by a sudden voice behind him. - Oh, do you think ice-cream toppings is the only thing that makes people angry?

Echo Chamberlain arose from behind the building, already aiming his megaphone at the ventilation shaft.

- How about... Mobile chargers! Don't you hate how they always get lost and get tangled?

The powerful sound wave reverberated throughout the building, and the small rooftop door quaked when a small mob of residents rushed to the top, with said chargers in their hands, ready to strangle the two. Ladybug tried sniping a few of them with precise shots of her yo-yo, but the crowd was too dense.

- My lady!

Chat Noir grabbed her and propelled themselves off the building, landing in the vicinity of the same park they were meant to not-study in. But as they landed, they were already surrounded by more hypnotised civilians, this time complaining en-masse about mosquitoes.

- There's too many of them! - Ladybug shouted, jumping onto the nearby lamp post and then onto the tree. - I mean, they aren't exactly wrong, mosquitoes are horrible... - Chat! - Ladybug scolded him - That's the problem, he is making these people aware of all those small, insignificant problems of their lives. - But everyone has those!

Chat Noir's statement suddenly sounded ominously, as the sea of multicoloured people of every race, size and age surrounded them. Each person beneath them complained about something, creating a powerful choir of cacophony.

- We need... we need something to calm them down all at once...

Marinette looked around, and suddenly, as she spotted André's destroyed ice-cream stand, she saw the bell he would rang to alert Parisians of his presence, and a smile appeared on her face.

- I know what to do! - she cheered - Follow me!

The two escaped the tree just as if it was bout to be uprooted, and the two traversed the Paris to land on an even more familiar balcony.

- Don't peek, I'm gonna change my clothes. - she gave him a quick peck as she opened the hatch door to her apartment. - I'd never think of doing that. - Chat grinned, prepared his baton and jumped to the ground to defend the Dupain-Cheng bakery from the horde of people.

Once she was inside, Marinette quickly opened her supplies cabinet. Under the multitude of sewing accessories lied the hidden, oval-shaped red-and-black object that once looked like an ancient music box. The new guardian took it and gently tapped the black spots on the Miraculous Box, and under her touch, the small drawers began opening, one by one, like petals of a flower, revealing the multitude of Miraculi inside. Each of the intricate jewels glowed with a magical light of its own, as if to invite Marinette to try them, but she already knew which one to pick.

She took a small, circular Miraculous and spoke its Kwami name, illuminating her room with calming, white light, as the small, furry creature appeared in front of her.

- There's no time to explain, I need your help. Tikki, unify!

=====================

Meanwhile, Chat was getting more and more surrounded, forcing him to jump higher and higher, hoping the crowd would follow him and not Ladybug, trying his might to defend himself with his baton from the hypnotised masses, chanting their many inconsequential complaints that made them so strong.

- The prequels suck! - The sequels suck too! - Everything sucks!

As the mob was about to grab Chat, suddenly, he felt a familiar grip around his torso and his stomach did a somersault when he was dragged upwards, away from the crowd, as Ladybug reeled him on her yo-yo as if he was a fish.

- Thanks Ladybug, your timing is impecca-

Words got stuck in Adrien's mouth as he turned his head to meet his rescuer. At first, he wasn't sure it was Ladybug, but he recognised her yo-yo and her charming smile, though they were the only familiar element of her looks that remained. Only half of her original red could be found on her new costume, and the tidy, trademark polka-dots merged into black blots against white-brown rest of her costume. But it was the accessories she was wearing that truly befuddled Chat and forced him to pursue his curiosity, even if he was to be proverbially killed for it.

- My lady...! - Adrien stopped mid-way, taking another long look at Marinette - You... Your choice of fighting style is always impawssible to predict, but... Really, a cow? - What?

Marinette looked at herself, turning in place, as if to check if she's made a mistake choosing a Kwami to merge with, but once she ascertained herself, she shot him with a stern look.

- I'm not a cow. - she spoke quickly - The Kwami, whose powers I'm borrowing, is a yak! From Tibet! - Er, my lady - Chat raised his hands in defence, trying not to stare too long at the horns that adorned her head now - With all the respect, half of your costume is white with black spots, you have a ring in your nose, and you wear a cowbell around your neck... - IT'S NOT A COWBELL! - Marinette stomped in place - It's a Tibetan singing bowl, used for meditation. The Kwami told me so. - And what was its name?

With some hesitation, Marinette looked at Chat, whose lips curled into a sly smile, somehow foreseeing the answer and using every ounce of his intelligence to prepare a comeback.  

- Lhamuu... - she whispered. - Lha...MOO - Chat articulated, his smug grin becoming unbearable to look at. - Oh, shut up! - Marinette yelled - We have an Akuma to defeat. - You're right, we should get mooving.

The superheroes nodded and jumped once more into the crowd of people under the super-villain's control, a plan already forming in their heads.

===========

- What's this?

In his observatory, Hawkmoth looked through his puppet's eyes at a sight he most certainly didn't expect.

- Ladybug... is a cow. - he muttered, unable to believe his borrowed sight. - Actually, it's a yak, you can tell by the horns, they are quite common in Asia and- - Never mind that! - Hawkmoth interrupted him - Ladybug has acquired a new power! That means she's wearing two Miraculi! Get them at once! - Is it "Miraculi" or "Miraculouses"? Or does this word even have plural form? - Anton pondered - I think there was a thread on Ladyblog about it, and- - THEY CAN BE CALLED "CROISSANTS" FOR WHAT I CARE, JUST GRAB THE JEWELS! - On it.

==========

Anton's throne flew closer to the two superheroes, who kept fighting the overwhelming crowd of people. Though banking on disappointment from recent block-busters wasn't unreasonable, he decided to play on even more delicate strings. He took his megaphone and spoke one word that electrified the masses and angered them all.

- Don't you just hate... CAPTCHA?... yes, it's because of Ladybug and Chat Noir you have to solve those stupid riddles, finding fire hydrants and whatnot! Destroy them!

At once, the mass of people acting, ironically, like radio-controlled robots, roared with pure hatred and began swarming towards them climbing onto balconies, just so they can get to them. Chat took a step backwards, knowing the crowd there was equally dense. But just as he was about to secure Ladybug, she did something utterly unpredictable.

With grace and skill only she possessed, SHE jumped off the rooftop, right into the horde of people, ready to tear her apart.

- My lady!

From the rooftop, Chat watched as Ladybug landed on the plaza, and let the crowd of people encircle and approach her from every side. And though he was afraid, he also had faith in her, strengthen only by her charming smile and a wink she sent him, while the shouting mob surrounded her.

- It's time to use... The Bell of Clarity!

Marinette touched the bowl affixed to her neck, enveloping herself in a delicate, yellow light, grabbed what looked like a ring in her nose and swiftly pulled it, revealing it to have two small balls on each side, and twirled around, ending with a stylish, victorious pose. With her new weapon in hands, she reached it, and gently stroke the bowl with the metallic ring, letting its vibration travel towards their target.

A powerful sound wave surrounded her, spreading in all directions, engulfing more and more of space, finally reaching the ears of the hypnotised people. When the note rang in their minds, they stopped, appearing confused and disoriented, as they suddenly lost the connection to their master's words.

- No, no, get them, you idiots! - Echo Chamberlain shouted through his megaphone.

Marinette stroke the bowl a second time, producing a more melodious tune. The crowd of like-minded zombies became even less coordinated, much to the supervillain's anger. And when she gently began moving the ornamented metal ring across the bowl's edge, instead of producing a single note, it began singing, its soothing melody finally dispelling the charm put on the people.

- No! You have to listen to me! I am right! - Anton took his megaphone and began speaking into it again - The games now suck! The-there are micro-transactions everywhere! The-the toilet paper! It's never turned the right way around! There is product placement in movies!

But no matter how many annoying details about life - or rather lack of it - he spoke of, the crowd remained calm and peaceful, unified with the sound of Ladybug's bell, that spread across the city each time she hit it.

And just when he was about to think of some new annoyance, something hit him from behind him, and when he turned around, he saw Chat Noir, wrestling with him, his baton already locking his arms from reaching his tool of control.

- It's time to dethrone your highness! Now, Ladybug!

At once, Ladybug shoot the yo-yo, grabbing the megaphone, while Chat and Echo Chamberlain wobbled in the air, each trying to overpower the other. But as soon as Ladybug got her hands onto his prized tool of control, it was over. She broke it in half, releasing the purple akuma, she then gracefully caught with the same yo-yo.

- By bye, little butterfly... - she spoke to the purified Akuma, watching it, as it flew away. - Miraculous Ladybug!

A storm of light, radiating from her engulfed the city, repairing the damages caused by the entitled mobs. As for the Echo Chamberlain, he found himself in his regular, not-levitating chair, and only thanks to Chat Noir's strength he didn't hit the ground.

- I believe it was yours. - Ladybug handed him the headset. - Y-yeah... - Anton stuttered. - Uh, Ladybug, I... - That's okay, Anton. - she spoke calmly - We all get upset sometimes, and we all think we have all the answers. - But maybe it's better to walk outside every once in a while, and, say, have some ice cream? Regardless of toppings? - Chat Noir added, giving him equally warm smile. - Y-yeah...

The two watched as the man waddled away, pondering what his behaviour has done. Ladybug and Chat Noir looked at each other and bumped their fist with a cheerful "Pound it!".

- So, the Bell of Clarity, eh? - Chat Noir leaned against the wall, watching as his partner affixes her new accessory once more to her collar. - Jealous of my new toy, kitty? - Ladybug shot him with a mischievous grin - It has quite powerful properties, I should tell you about that some time, since I've been studying all the Kwamis and... - Nah, I was just pondering the name...

Marinette eyed him suspiciously, noticing the familiar smirk appearing on his face, about to turn into a full, unashamed grin, but when she did that, it was too late, as words already left his mouth.

- It's "Bell of Clarity"...or Clara-bell, if you will.

The Tibetan singing bowl made one last, long, pronounced note as Marinette struck Chat's head with it, putting an end to his jokes and another successful mission.

===========================

Another tune, this one of pure sorrow filled the air, as Hawkmoth roared in anger, his voice echoing in his evil lair atop the Agreste mansion.

- Preposterous! I have been defeated by a superheroine dressed like a cow! - I think she was a yak, Gabriel. - Nathalie added - SHE HAD A RING IN HER NOSE! - he yelled, slamming his fists against the floor, as he collapsed onto his knees - I HAVE A HEADACHE!

==================

Far away from Hawkmoth's prying eyes, as well as many security cameras they've learned to evade, two superheroes were celebrating another victory in a way that became almost a tradition for them. There was a time when Marinette would be utterly shocked at the mere thought of kissing in public, let alone exposing herself there, but the years of serving as a protector of Paris has changed her mind. At some point, she started treating entirety of Paris as her home, with every dark alleyway and rows of chimney that hid them from the rest of the world, and with that notion came the desire to express herself and her love in the open air. And it certainly helped that her boyfriend was a horny tomcat.

Though she would have preferred if Chat pushed her against her soft bed, she didn't mind the cold, sturdy surface of a building they were kissing against. With his relentless, but delicate caresses, there was no place on Earth where they wouldn't be feeling comfortable, and something told her she would be soon melting in his arms or underneath his body.

And Chat was especially meticulous today, as he wanted to make sure that he'd cover every millimetre of her new costume and find out if her new alter-ego changed something with her preferences regarding making love.

- Chat... - Marinette moaned and curled her toes, tightening her legs' grip around his body. - I've had you as a Ladybug...

Chat pressed her against the wall, his hand already on her crotch, and his fingers dug through the latex costume that parted underneath his gentle, yet steady caresses.

- ...then as a mouse...

She let out a short squeak, almost mimicking her timid, Multimouse persona, as he continued undressing her using his claws and teeth.

- Then as a Rena Rouge... do you remember that? - How-How could I forget? - Marinette gasped, her hands sliding up and down his slim, but muscular body - Especially since Alya was filming us...

Chat let out a deep purr of approval, letting his lips and tongue take action, as he leaned against the skin on her neck. And while he was busy peppering her skin with kisses, Marinette decided to continue diving into their memories, perhaps just so she won't have to moan in anticipation of her lover's next, carefully planned move.

- And-And do you remember when Mister Bug used Lady Noire's face? I've never thought he would be so rough... - Mhm, most certainly... - Chat purred, nibbling on her ear, both actions making Marinette's skin shiver - Turned out white goes very well with your the black mask... And, well, rest of the costume too... - Naughty kitten... - And now, I'm gonna be with you as a... - Chat paused, looking up at his lover - ...a yak. - It's fine, you can say I'm a cow. - Marinette rolled her eyes, leaning in for a kiss. - And how should I call you? - Figured you would kiss first and ask names second...

She spoke those words in somewhat croaky voice, after Chat's kiss successfully left her breathless. She tightened her grip on him and looked him in the eye, seeing the familiar, fiery spark of lust that could lead them on a predictable route.

- Yin Yak - she answered - That's the name of that-that superheroine... - Marinette paused, trying to silence herself from another surge of pleasure building up in her loins. - So, would you be Lady-yak? - Chat kissed her breasts through her costume, yearning to feel her costume splitting apart - Or Yin-bug? I have to say, I am purrplexed and confused...

Marinette cupped his face and brought his face millimetres away from hers, just so her next words could firmly root themselves into his mind.

- I will tell you how I want to be called. - she paused and without losing a bit answered - Yours.

With her words acting like a spell, Chat Noir smiled and in a single move tossed her into the air, and caught her with his arms again, letting her legs spread. And as he did so, a rip in her costume appeared, under Chat's most delicate of touches, as a final proof of Marinette's consent and her yearning for her lover. Marinette yelped when his fingers brushed the now-exposed skin underneath her partially-torn costume. In response, she yanked his bell and slid it down, finally laying her eyes on his naked, alluring body.

- It's so much easier for you... - Are you complaining about an incredibly minor inconvenience? - Chat paused - Be careful, or you're gonna get akumatised too...

They giggled and closed their eyes, preparing for a kiss, but as their lips were about to meet, Chat found that something began pushing them away. And when the two looked down, they couldn't help but gasp at the sudden development happening right in front of them.  

- What the-?!

Both Adrien and Marinette stared at her chest, or more precisely, her breasts that sprung from beneath her costume, ripping it completely and showing properly how enlarged they've become. And neither of them could tell which one was more surprised of the sight that greeted them. Her usually perky, medium-sized breasts now felt like two balloons that became inflated the moment Chat parted the way of her costume, though despite their size they seemed to defy laws of physics, never truly succumbing to gravity. As if in disbelief, Chat gently cupped them, and only under his touch, Marinette could feel how much they have grown, and that they were in fact still parts of her caresses-starved body.

- They-they are huge! - Marinette gasped, stating the obvious. - Indeed they are... - Adrien licked his lips - I have to admit, I am enjoying your new superhero form more and more...

Marinette gasped when she felt Chat's breath around her nipple, even more sensitive than usual, as his lips closed around the nub, a lot bigger and more pronounced now. And while his tongue lapped around her areola, his left hand caressed her other breast, exploring the new, vast territory he was going to conquer.

As Marinette whimpered under Chat's caresses, he moved from left side of her enlarged bosom to the other, finally taking a dive between them, licking the alluring valley between the voluptuous,breasts on both sides of his face. He looked up, meeting Ladybug's widened eyes, seeing the mixture of pleasure and lingering shock in them. He gave her one final kiss, and asked sheepishly.

- My lady, I'm not doing anything wrong, am I? - Can you hear me complain? - Marinette smirked - I have no idea what happened, but keep your mouth busy, kitty.

She gently pushed his head back between her huge bosom that almost engulfed Chat's head. Suddenly, she felt his kisses everywhere across her sensitive skin, causing her to moan without any care. They were still hidden, at least partially, since she fully expected her breasts might now expand like a portable raft and take the entire space of the rooftop.

Of course, she knew why this happened. Though Chat was joking, her Kwami certainly had a few bovine traits, and her arousal must have accentuated those even more, just like Chat's claws could tear through her otherwise indestructible suit as if it was papier-mâché when his animalistic needs got over him.

As her kisses became more and more ravenous, her legs slowly gave up, and that gave Chat a chance to sneak his arms underneath her back and raise her leg up, just so his access to her dripping sex could be easier. With her left leg on his shoulder, his fingers continued the delicate dance against her pussy, while his tongue lapped at the skin around her nipples.

- Cha-Chat!

Marinette threw her head back, hoping her lover would bring her to her climax soon, and when Chat closed his lips around her nipple once more, just to contain his scream, she felt something new. An exhilarating, electrifying surge rushed through her, and at the same moment as Chat's eyes opened wide, while his fingering slowed down, though with his new discovery, she didn't exactly blame him.

Once he understood what was happening, Chat smiled and doubled his efforts, suckling on her teat, just so he could taste the delicious, sweet milk she began producing.

- My lady, you are... full of surprises... - he spoke, once he took a healthy gulp of her essence, watching as it dripped onto her large breasts.

To her bewilderment, when Chat brought his lips back to her nipple and continued suckling her milk, she felt the pleasure rising again, and with the newly found source of enjoyment, Marinette realised she couldn't think straight, especially when Chat resumed the moves of his hand again, spreading her folds.

But this time, as his muscular body came in contact with hers, it became obvious he was eager for more than simple finger play. He moved his hips in tune of her moans, sliding his exposed cock along her folds, eager to her her begging. And sure enough, once his name left her lips, he dived between her wet, soaking folds, just like his head dived into the valley of her breasts, equally leaking from anticipation.

Marinette let out another prolonged moan. Chat often made love to her this way, pressing her against walls, often just meters away from busy streets, but never before has her body changed. And now, to each of Chat's thrusts, her enlarged breasts reacted accordingly, bouncing up and down around Chat's face, though every once in a while her lover's thirst for her milk caused one of her mounds - or rather mountains - to remain in place, while he feasted on the liquid ambrosia she kept producing.

Adrien thought that he might have  harder time keeping his lover up, and bouncing her with the extra baggage, but it turned out that the opposite was true. She felt lighter, giving him chance to exert a bit more pressure and dominance over his lover, much to her enjoyment. Ladybug dug her fingernails into Chat's shoulders, pushing him against the cushions of her bosom, letting his entire face stimulate her much larger and more sensitive area.

With each kiss Chat placed around her nipples came another deep thrust, reaching further and further into her yearning sex that coated his cock with her juices, only helping his cause of sliding as far as possible. And with that storm of sensation, it came as no surprise to Marinette that her mind slowly started going blank, and she began chanting Chat's name like a mantra, begging him to help her reach the peak he promised her, hearing only his grunts in return.

Their shared orgasm made their joined bodies shudder; at the same time, walls of Marinette's pussy contracted, desperate to contain Chat inside her, coating his crotch with more and more of her juices; then the torrential jets of his warm seed shot up her sex, right against her womb, filling her to the brim. And then, just when she thought she was finished, she felt a new form of warmth on her chest, when milk began spurted from her breasts, though the stream quickly found its way to Chat's mouth.

With each of Chat's final, weakening thrusts, the effects began anew, forcing her lover to switch suckling on her nipples, thirsty for her nectar, as if to use it to replenish his essence he kept flooding her with. But as their juices were leaking out, so was their strength, and even Chat's muscles had to give up at some point.

The two collapsed on the rooftop, still hidden by the shadows of the construction scaffolding, though at this point, Marinette truly didn't care if their love making has been heard, or observed by anyone; with her enormous breasts people might think it's some sort of stunt anyway. Her lips found Chat's and she tasted a new flavour, a sweet one that sent shivers down her spine, when she realised what it was, and she understood at once why Chat was so desperate to milk her.

The same flurry of kisses that drove her to her peak didn't stop, as Chat made sure to pepper her breasts with as many of those as possible, at the same time giving her ample time to recover from her equally explosive orgasm.

And as her mind, hazed by pleasure, slowly returned to reality, a new plan formed in her head, and with a quick, but difficult to pull off maneuver - a drawback of the new addition to her body - she rolled and pinned Chat to the ground, much to his surprise.

- My lady?

Chat's ears perked up when he saw her move along his naked body, leaving a trail of kisses as well as her milk along it. And when she reached her destination, she shot him with a mischievous, sly smirk that would have turn his legs to jelly if he wasn't downed already.

Her delicate fingers closed around his half-lips cock, bringing his sensitive tip to her mouth, and as her lips brushed his skin, it twitched satisfyingly in her hand, signalling he was ready again.

- You just lay there, kitty, and let me take care of you...

Marinette's soft, velvety voice, spiked with just a trace of lust worked its magic on Chat right away. Though Marinette might have been surprised by the sudden changes to her body, the superheroine adapted to them at once and decided to put them to good use. Her voluptuous, wobbly breasts engulfed Chat's hard cock, as Marinette proceeded to give her first tit-job of her life, given that now she had proper equipment for it.

As Chat got lost in her ample bosom, he threw his head back, filling the air around them with low purr of delight, followed by prolonged moan when Ladybug's mouth met with his cock's head upon her first bob. it was equally fascinating for Marinette to watch as Chat's length is enveloped by her breasts, and how she can now stimulate far more of him than when her mounds were small an perky.

She had to keep an eye on his legs that twitched with every few seconds in response to her caresses. Chat's claws closed around the nearest edges, after frantically trying to find one to push away his oncoming climax, and his slim, but muscular torso arched from time to time, in sync with Marinette pushing her massive breasts up and down.

To make things a bit varied, she slowed down her moves, replacing them with a bit of her tongue-work, much to Chat's delight. Marinette could distinguish her name being muttered by her lover, begging her to finish her love torture, but the superheroine had none of that. While she was certain Chat would love nothing more than jump to his knees and face-fuck her, she wanted to prolong his pleasure as much as she could, knowing full well of the building and boiling climax in his loins.

As her tongue ran around his head, Marinette had to steer away to taste her own body, still covered with traces of milk she was leaking, and when the same tongue returned to his tool, Chat moaned again, feeling the liquid she was mixing with his pre-cum, almost as if he could taste it again. Once more he was privileged to see how the once-shy superheroine pushed her limit of perversion with a kink neither of them expected to enjoy an hour earlier.

And it was that knowledge (combined with her dedication to bring Chat to climax, as she started bobbing her breasts up and down again), that drove Chat to his edge, turning his moans incomprehensible begging only Marinette could understand and reply to. She waited until Chat's eyes would meet her again, and spoke to him taking breaks from kissing his swollen tip ready to burst.

- You, kitty - she started - You like my milk... But I...

She pressed her hands against her breasts, wanting to completely envelop Chat's cock between her massive breasts.

- ...I prefer cream.

A loud, yet weak cry of defeat escaped Chat's lips at the same time as first rope of cum flew from his swollen tip, landing straight across Ladybug's face, forcing her to close her eyes momentarily, though she opened them a second later, just so she can marvel at Chat's virility.

Just as second rope of cum was about to decorate her face, Marinette opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, inviting Chat to change his aim, though with his cock still engulfed by her breasts, she was much in control of the trajectory, and with some difficulties, she has managed to fill her mouth with the thick, sticky seed, getting the first sniff of the pungent and aggressive, but alluring taste and smell of her lover.

Three more streams of his cum landed in Marinette's lips, before her treatment has emptied Chat's balls, and the heroine could swallow the veritable pool of Chat's cream sitting in her mouth. She did it without breaking the eye contact with him, making sure he'd hear the guttural, gulping noises as his essence travelled down her throat, his warmth, taste and smell lingering far longer thanks to its consistency. He must have been saving for days...

But that wasn't complete end of Chat's climax; long after he stopped supplying Marinette with his seed, he withdrew from between the heavenly trap of her breasts, and another strands of his seed adorned them, prompting Marinette to perform action she wasn't able before, due to how much bigger and more supple her breasts have become. She pushed her breasts just up enough so she can lick off each and every drop of cum Chat left, as if it was the most delicious meal she wouldn't let go to waste. And the sight of expression on Chat's face was a reward already, aside of the familiar, musky aftertaste that reminded Marinette who has just marked her as his. Not to mention that as she squeezed her breast, Chat's essence mixed with her milk, adding a new taste of sweetness to his salty one.

Marinette revelled in the overwhelming storm of tastes that filled her mouth, and that indulgence gave Chat opportunity to counter-attack. Though he was pressed to the ground by her body and her breasts that now were a significant part of it, the superhero easily rolled her to her back, his head already back between her mounds, licking the milk that has managed to leak during his climax.

- I'd say that's a tie, my lady. - Of course you'd say that. - Marinette chuckled - You just want to get comfy and drink milk, and I just happen to have what you need...

In response, Chat let out a soft purr, as he nuzzled himself into Marinette's breasts, never taking eyes from his lover. Marinette reached and toyed with his untidy golden hair, and her charming smile managed to lure him from between her breasts for another long-needed kiss.

And just when she thought she would be given some time to relax, Chat Noir yanked her legs upwards, pressing them against her body, trapping her enlarged breasts between them, squishing them even more, which made them appear even larger.

- Sorry, Ladybug, but you are just too appetising to not ravish...

Marinette yelped when Chat's hard cock entered her again, and she felt Chat's delicious weight on top of her. She knew her new form would drag a very primal string in his masculine mind, and she did not object when he jumped to his feet and pushed her into a mating press, ready to engage in deeply animalistic form of love making.

His hips worked twice as hard than previously, wanting to reach as far into her throbbing, needy sex as possible, and while he was leaning over her, he was given once more chance to taste her delicious milk, each time he plunged himself inside her.

Ladybug's legs dangled above their heads, in sync of his ravenous thrusts, and as Marinette met his eyes, she had no doubts what drove him into his frenzied state. She knew that her kwami chose to make her look like a perfect mating partner, and that Chat was making sure there was enough milk for his kittens...

Their frantic bucking lasted shorter than they expected, but the same, wild thought they shared pushed them over the edge at the same time. Chat grabbed her thick thighs, buried his face between her breasts that erupted with milk, and in turn flooded her once more with his virile seed, bringing their shared fantasy to completion.

Chat collapsed on top of her, landing his head across Laybug's vast breasts, once more basking in their sweet glory. When their lips met again, they could both taste it, and the two lovers fell into a tight embrace.

The two were blissfully unaware that in the mean time the sun has gone down, but that only meant there will be less light for onlookers to catch them.

=====================

Standing by the kitchen counter, Marinette concentrated on making another batch of freshly baked sweets, so then they can be ready in an hour or so when the bakery opens. It was the quiet before the storm, but Marinette enjoyed those early morning hours... especially when she had someone to help her.

Adrien sneaked up behind his girlfriend, peppering her exposed neck with kisses, while his hands gently travelled up and down her waist, though once he saw what she's been making this whole time, his caresses stopped,and he let out a satisfying purr. On the counter lay several, hemispherical pastries, glazed in white marzipan, each adorned with a candied cherry on top, and the longer Adrien stared at them, the more he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

- Well, our adventure has certainly given you some inspiration, Marinette. Your original design? - I wish. - Marinette snickered - Those are called Saint Agatha's breasts, it's an old, Italian treat.

She handed him one, watching as his fingers dance on the shiny surface.

- It does remind me of what happened yesterday, though... - Adrien smiled, before taking a bite of the sugary coating. - I might have double-glazed them just like you did me.

Marinette brought her finger to his mouth to collect a small crumble of marzipan stuck to his lips, and predictably, her boyfriend wasn't just ravenous for sweets, as he quickly licked her finger clean too.

- Adrien! - Marinette pulled back and rushed to the sink - Warn me next time... - Okay, here's a warning..

Adrien chuckled, closing his arms around her belly once more. He sneaked his mouth to her neck, while his arms separated, each travelling closely to one of her erogenous zones. His left hand dived underneath her apron and tried getting into her panties, while the right one caressed her perky breasts, and as soon as his fingers began toying around her nipples, Marinette addressed something that has been on her mind.

- You miss them, don't you? - You know that I love you exactly the way you are... - Adrien answered tactfully   - Don't lie, kitty - Marinette interrupted him. - You are, alas, only a man, therefore, I know you liked when my rack was three times the size of my current one. - Fine, if you want to, then I will say it - he kissed her neck - But just because I had more of you to love. Is it okay if I admit that I do slightly miss them? - If you'll keep finishing inside me, like yesterday, then I can assure you, you'll get them back very soon...

Marinette yelped, when his hands travelled back to her hips and spun her around in place, but once she met his face, she closed her arms behind his neck without missing a beat, just in time for his comeback.

- Is that a warning, or an invitation?

Adrien raised his brow, watching as her face reddened.

- Tell you what, I'm gonna finish in five minutes, and we might find out. - If you'll wear this apron then I will finish in five minutes... - Adrien!

[darkblueboxs]

howdy i love your aftg writing!! here’s a concept: i feel like once neil’s past is out, he has no reason to hesitate absolutely sucker punching someone. like we know he made neil a pushover because it raises less questions, but now that everyone knows who he is im SURE he’s just bitch slapped someone mid-game. no holding back, like if u say something fucked up he’s just gonna try to kill you!! do you know who this man is?? there’s no doubt in my mind that he knows some quick and lethal punches!

Oh yes, anon. Bruiser!Neil I can DEFO get behind. 

Here’s 3k of Neil punching stuff, and Andrew being wildly turned on by it. Read here or on AO3 (Check AO3 notes for content warnings, etc.)

*Edit* : In the original version of this fic, Nicky faces racist abuse in addition to homophobic abuse, and quotes the offensive language and slurs used against him. After concerns were raised regarding how I handled this abuse (specifically, the language used, the context in which the abuse takes place, and my position as a non-latine) I censored and subsequently removed the relevant dialogue. I sincerely apologise and promise to do better in the future. Please don't hesitate to contact me with any questions and concerns regarding this subject.

[01/06/2020]

All the Guys Love a Bruiser

Neil’s mother taught him how to throw a punch, of course she did. Their lessons took place anywhere spacious enough to swing a fist, in empty parking lots behind greasy gas stations or in dingy motel rooms if she thought the walls were thick enough to cover up the noises they made.

Mary had always been more flight than fight, an instinct she had forced into Neil over years of running. Even she had to admit, however, that sooner or later they would hit a dead end, and while that would spell certain death for both of them, it would be better to go down fighting than it would on their knees.

If their lessons ended with Neil aching black and blue, it was his own fault. He needed to be quicker, smarter, crueller. More like his mother.

Matt’s teaching style is different from Mary’s, as is his fighting style. It bears the hallmarks of professional athleticism, all stances and positioning and strategy. While his mother’s idea of a lesson in self-defence was to hit Neil until he figured out how to dodge her blows or hit back, Matt talks him through how to angle his body, how to make a fist in a way that won’t break his fingers. At the end of their first boxing lesson, the only bruises on Neil’s body are the light purple spreading across his knuckles.

That evening, he and Andrew take over the beanbags, TV muted in the background while they dig into ice-cream. The tub is pleasantly cool in Neil’s hands, and he rubs his knuckles against the sides like an improvised icepack. When the residual cold has melted away, Neil flexes his fingers, enjoying the faint tingle dancing across them. These marks are different from those his mother gave him; they weren’t inflicted on him unwillingly but earned with sweat and exertion. When Matt had let go of the punching bag and told him they were done for the day, Neil had been surprised by his own disappointment. He had never been sorry see the end of his mother’s lessons.

Andrew takes his hand suddenly, startling Neil from his thoughts. It’s a purely analytical touch; he turns Neil’s hand over and runs a finger across the blossoming bruises of his knuckles.

Neil bites back the I’m fine, knowing the look it would earn him. Instead he says, “I had fun. We’re meeting again next week.”

Andrew nods. It’s a few moments more before he relinquishes Neil’s hand, however. The heat of Andrew’s skin mingles with the singing twinge of Neil’s bruises like an after-print.

Next week, Andrew slouches into the gym after Neil. He ignores Matt’s invitation to join them, flopping onto a rowing machine and leaning back against the machinery so he can kick his feet up on the seat rail. They’re lucky that they chose unsociable hours for their workout, or a line of athletes would be forming to glare at him.

Andrew watches them train from across the room with apparent disinterest. He can feign boredom all he likes; Neil knows he wouldn’t have bothered following him to the gym without reason.

Matt, if anything, seems amused by Andrew’s presence. “Dan comes to watch me practice sometimes, too.” He pauses to correct the angles of Neil’s feet before nudging his arms into blocking positions. “She did it even before we started dating. She used to sit on an exercise bike and pretend she was cycling so I wouldn’t know she was there to watch me. It was never very convincing.”

“Why did she want to watch you?” Neil shifts his weight, trying to copy Matt’s position.

Matt’s face crinkles up with laughter. “That’s the most Neil thing you’ve ever said.”

“Everything I say is a Neil thing.”

“She liked it when I took my shirt off. C’mon, man, join the dots.”

“You don’t take your shirt off to box.”

“Yeah,” says Matt. “Don’t tell her that.”

Neil rolls his eyes. “Can I hit you now?”

Matt barks out a laugh, and training resumes.

“Enjoying the show?” Neil asks Andrew an hour later, dropping down on the gym mat next to him. Andrew hands Neil his water bottle with an unimpressed look.

“You’re awful.” Andrew flicks a look over to Matt, who is using their break to chat with the only other gym regular insane enough to be working out at the crack of dawn on a Sunday. “He could knock you on your ass with one right hook.”

“I know I’m awful. That’s what training is for.” Neil pauses to gulp down most of the bottle. A droplet escapes his lips and tracks down his jugular before falling into the dip of his clavicle. Andrew’s eyes track its path. “Matt isn’t going to hurt me. Is that what you’re worried about?”

“I’m not here to babysit you.”

“Huh.” Neil drains the last of the water before shaking the residual droplets over his head. The beads glint in the corners of his vision as they catch in his bangs and fleck his cheeks, mercifully cooling against his skin. Andrew is still watching him intently. His eyes flick to Matt once more, checking that he is still absorbed in his conversation.

“Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Neil replies, and he watches as Andrew takes Neil’s hand in his. The skin is flushed from strike after strike, not yet coloured in bruising patches but soon to be. Neil’s hands feel softer for it, sensitive to Andrew’s touch.

“I know my limits.” Neil isn’t sure why the gym suddenly feels three degrees warmer. “Really, it doesn’t hurt.”

“I know. I trust you.” Andrew sends one more look over Neil’s shoulder like he’s checking the coast is clear before pressing Neil’s knuckles to his lips.

The breath Neil was in the process of catching slips from his grasp entirely. “Oh.”

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“You like watching me fight.”

“It’s more interesting than watching you run.”

Neil leans in until he can see each individual freckle on Andrew’s cheeks. “Interesting?”

Andrew’s cool look is betrayed by the twitch of his jaw. “Something like that.”

If Matt notices Neil’s new vigour when they return to practice, he doesn’t comment on it. When he catches Neil’s eye, however, he grins knowingly. Perhaps Matt’s conversation had not been as absorbing as he made it out to be. Soon, however, the rhythm of the exercise draws Neil’s attention back to the task at hand.

Neil first learned to throw a punch because his mother believed that one day his life could depend on it. That isn’t the reason that he has resumed his training with Matt; it turns out that a good instructor and fewer death threats make the activity far more pleasant than Neil remembers. It may be a useful skill, but he values the challenge more than he does the practicality. The physicality, too – in fact, he likes boxing for the same reasons that he loves Exy. Quick, brutal, thrilling. He finally understands, too, why Andrew likes to spar with Renee whenever his emotions get on top of him. There’s a certain a sense of control that comes from putting his fist through a break-board. Not that he needs the empowerment as much as he once might have – most of Neil’s tormentors were killed long ago, his fears with them. Given his new life of safety and security, it’s likely that he’ll never really need to know how to throw a good punch.

It takes all of one week for Neil to be proven wildly, wildly wrong.

Opposition strikers – with one glaring, now very dead exception – are not typically Neil’s problem. Generally, if they end up playing on the same side of the court as him, something has gone wrong in the team’s strategies.

He can tell even from a distance, however, that one of the Terrapin strikers is causing difficulties. Not in terms of ability – of which Terrapin’s #13 has little – but in attitude. Thirteen is a vocal player, and Neil can hear snatches of his voice echoing across the court. No fists have been swung, which is an impressive feat for the Fox defenders, but perhaps only because the luck of substitutions has put Thirteen against Nicky more than anyone else, and Nicky is more likely to react to insults with mirth than anger.

Shortly before the end of the first half, Nicky is subbed off at the same time as Thirteen. Nicky passes Neil on the way to the court doors, clacking their racquets together with half a smile. “Give them hell, Neil.”

Thirteen passes them at the same moment, slamming Nicky’s shoulder as he passes. Nicky mutters a word under his breath that would have earned him a month of washing-up duty at Abby’s house before heading for the Foxes’ bench. Neil watches him go, eyebrows creasing together. Nicky isn’t easily upset by the cruelty of strangers; it’s the cruelty that comes from within his own family that is most likely to shake him from his good humour. The barbed insults of nameless players on the court, on the other hand, are usually brushed off with a rude gesture and no more.

Swept up in the rush of the match, Neil forgets about Nicky’s discomfort until half-time. The team pours from the court in high spirits; they have a decent lead over the Terrapins which should carry them through the second half when exhaustion starts to kick in. Nicky, despite having blocked more shots on goal than anyone, reacts to the arrival of the rest of the team with only a pallid grin. His grip on his water bottle is tight, and the cheap plastic crackles and caves in his hands.

Nicky is an easy read, and it doesn’t take long for the other Foxes to notice. After he brushes Renee’s concerned enquiry off, however, the team leaves him be.

When Neil returns to the court for the start of the third quarter, he breathes a sigh of relief to see that Thirteen is nowhere near Nicky. He’s standing closer to goal than Neil is happy with, but Andrew is more or less impervious to verbal abuse and Thirteen has yet to show signs of physical violence. As much as he wants to keep a closer eye on the situation, Kevin’s barked commands draw his attention to the match at hand. The best thing Neil can do for the Foxes’ defence is to spend as much time lobbing the ball at the Terrapin’s goal as possible.

Neil and Nicky are substituted at the same time; they collapse onto the bench and drown their exhaustion in Gatorade. Thirteen crushed Nicky against the wall moments before the substitution, and Nicky is uncharacteristically quiet as Abby examines the cut over his eye.

“You’re not whining about cramping your style,” she says as she presses a plaster in place. “Should I be worried?”

“Nah, this is great for my style. All the guys love a bruiser.” Nicky winks despite the blood crusting in his eyelashes. “Neil knows what I’m talking about, don’tcha, Neil?”

Abby makes a noise that isn’t convinced, but doesn’t press the issue. Neil waits until she’s out of earshot before saying casually, “I still have a few contacts in the mafia.”

“Your sense of humour is dire,” says Nicky, but he’s grinning, so Neil counts it as a win. “Don’t worry about it. I think Andrew’s drawing his fire now. Andrew handles that kind of thing a lot better than me.”

“What kind of thing?”

Nicky winced. “Don’t ask.”

“Tell me.”

“Let's just say he isn't exactly lining up to lead a Pride march.” Nicky snorts humorlessly.

The joke doesn’t land, and not because of Neil’s non-existent sense of humour. He may not be as obvious as Nicky in his preferences nor as dark-skinned, but he has still been on the receiving end of enough of that brand of bullshit to know how it scratches at one’s insides.

“I wasn’t joking about those contacts.”

Nicky sighs. “I was worried you would say that.”

Neil’s attention keeps slipping from the game and over to Andrew, who is standing in goal and ignoring the tirade of insults being thrown his way like a statue facing down a breeze. His non-reaction only seems to stoke Thirteen’s fury, spittle catching in the mesh of his helmet as he watches Andrew knock yet another attempt away from the Foxes’ end.

Andrew spares Thirteen no more than a second of blank indifference in the face of his tirade. Then he drops his stance, shoulders setting into a silent challenge that sends a hot bolt of excitement straight Neil’s to gut. Andrew is locking down the goal.

The Terrapins don’t score again for the rest of the match.

Neil is through the doors before the final buzzer has died, charging into the crush of Foxes at centre-court to join in their celebrations. Andrew, as usual, hovers at the edge of the throng, but he accepts the clack of Neil’s racquet against his. A light sheen of sweat dances across Andrew’s forehead and his lips are parted as he regains his breath after the exertion of locking the Terrapins out.

“Did Thirteen give you trouble?”

Andrew snorts derisively despite his breathlessness. “He tried.”

Neil gets to see Thirteen up close during the handshakes. He barely grazes the tips of each Foxes’ fingers as he passes one by one, but he stops when he gets to Neil. “I remember you. You were all over the news, weren’t you? The runaway Wesninski.” His expression speaks to his delight at the revelation. To no-one’s surprise, Thirteen is a sore loser.

Andrew barely moves, just a slight adjustment to his footing so that he presses a little closer into Neil’s shoulder.

Neil smiles. It is the kind of smile he has not had use for in some time. “Looking for an autograph?”

Thirteen snorts. “Bet you think you’re real bad. Bet you think those scars make you look tough. Too bad you’re still a puny little bitch.”

Neil flexes his hand before clenching it into a fist. “I do think I’m real bad, actually. Want to find out why?”

The striker waits for the hit to come. Neil doesn’t give him the satisfaction; the guy is a piece of shit, but he isn’t worth the trouble he’s clearly looking for. Neil drops his hands, meets his gaze, and waits for him to give up on getting his reaction and leave.

Most of the other players are moving off to their own respective sides, and their stand-off is beginning to attract attention. Kevin squints over at them, and at his side, Aaron pulls off his helmet.

“Oh shit. Twins.” Thirteen’s gaze swings from Aaron to Andrew, flashing with sudden recognition. “I remember you too.” His expression turns sharkish. “Now that was a story. So, which one is the murderer, and which is the brother-fucker?”

Andrew barely twitches. Neil’s reaction is less restrained.

It’s almost a play-by-play of decking Riko at the Winter Banquet.  The key difference between that punch and this one is hours of training with a borderline-professional boxer.

Neil squares his stance, draws back his fist, and puts his whole body behind the punch. He’s rewarded with the sickening crack of a nose breaking and a hot spurt of blood splattering his knuckles.

Thirteen staggers back, shock registering for a second before he spits blood at the floor. He’s swaying on his feet, but there’s still fight in his eyes.

Andrew’s hands go to his sheaths, but Neil waves him back. He wipes the hand bloodied by Thirteen’s face across his jaw unthinkingly, feels the wet, red heat clinging to his skin. “Hey. This one’s mine.” The smile he tacks onto the words is toothier than he means it to be. With blood still smeared across his chin, he can only imagine how he looks.

Andrew’s hand judders to a halt at the hems of his armbands. His jaw is clenched tight but roaring over the current of concern is something far darker. It creeps into his eyes, a weight to his gaze normally only visible in the privacy of their bedroom. Andrew’s gaze runs the length of Neil’s body before coming to rest on Neil’s mouth. His bottom lip catches momentarily in his teeth as he nods.

Thirteen’s first swing hits, and a burst of blood dances across Neil’s tongue as his lip is split open. Thirteen’s luck ends there; Neil blocks his second punch with a move Matt taught him the day before. He drives his free hand into Thirteen’s solar plexus, knocking the air from him.

Neil doesn’t get much time to appreciate how the striker falls on his ass as they’re rushed by teammates and officials who break them apart.

Neil stands placidly before Wymack and bears his row with the bare minimum of decorum. The lecture is undercut by Nicky, who’s expression alternates between elation, amusement and mock disapproval from moment to moment. Matt, at least, waits until Wymack is finished before applauding.

“I’ll give you some notes later, but all things considered it was a solid right hook.”

Neil brushes the team’s reactions off as best he can; he certainly didn’t do it for their recognition.

He takes his time showering, watching with a strange, sick pleasure as he rinses the striker’s blood away. It turns pink in the shower basin before swirling at last down the drain. Beneath the blood, Neil’s knuckles have begun to bruise, satisfaction burning them blue.

It’s at these times that Neil worries that he may have inherited too much from his father; the temper, the violence, the bloodlust. Then again, they all served as tools to his survival at one point or another. The key difference between Neil and his father is who they choose to turn their anger on. Neil’s father always set his sights on the underdog. Neil prefers to punch up.

No; if there’s one thing Nathan gave him, it was a distaste for bullies.

There’s a familiar tap at the door to Neil’s stall. The rest of the Foxes cleared out some time ago, still rowdy from the post-match high. Tonight was a home game; most of the team will be halfway back to Fox tower already, thinking only of booze and the weekend stretching ahead of them. There’s only one player who would have any reason to linger.

Andrew steps under the spray, his hair is plastered to his head by the steamy drizzle. He holds his hand out, and Neil offers his without question for Andrew’s inspection.

Andrew’s voice is dispassionate as he inspects the damage. “I don’t need a knight in shining armour. Nor for you to fight my battles for me.”

“The fight was for my own satisfaction. But I’ll stop if you want me to.”

Once again, Andrew presses his lips to Neil’s raw knuckles. The contact stings, sweet and savoury, pleasure and pain. “Would it kill you to make life easy for once?” The words tingle against the tender skin.

“I thought you liked to watch me fight.”

“Just because I find your stupidity entertaining doesn’t mean I encourage it.”

“It’s my stupidity you like, is it?”

“What else do you have?” Andrew’s eyes track the rivulets of water snaking down Neil’s neck.

“I’m sure I can think of a few things.” Neil says. Then, for clarity, “Yes or no?”

“Yes.” Andrew doesn’t let go of Neil’s hand, thumb running across the reddening knuckles once more before leading it to his chest. Neil leaves it resting there, marvelling at the colours bleeding between them under the shower’s onslaught, pink and brown and red and blue. Andrew soon tires of Neil’s staring, and is the first to bridge the gap between them.

Neil once compared Andrew’s kisses to a fight with their lives on the line. Countless kisses later, this fact has not changed in the slightest. Andrew leaves a bruising trail of kisses across Neil’s neck until he can’t remember which marks are from Exy and which are from Andrew. They all sting the same, sweet way.

Each kiss pressed to his mouth carries a metallic tang from Neil’s burst lip. He can tell from the fierce pressure of Andrew’s mouth against his that Andrew can taste it too, is feeding off the adrenaline rush just as Neil is. He catches Neil’s bottom lip between his teeth and with it sucks a groan from deep in Neil’s chest.

Andrew draws back to level him with an unimpressed look. “You’re far too into this.”

“You’re one to talk.” Neil raises his hand to Andrew’s eyeline, wiggling his fingers. Andrew’s eyes catch on the blooming violet patches. “You like this. Admit it.”

Andrew steps forward until his cheek brushes Neil’s fingers. Neil turns his hand automatically, cupping Andrew’s face.

“Yes,” says Andrew. His eyes stay on Neil’s, even as Neil’s hand drops lower.

It’s a small miracle, Neil thinks, that Andrew can trust Neil’s hands on him, after all he knows they are capable of. Maybe that’s part of the appeal, the evidence painted into Neil’s knuckles that Neil’s gentler touches are reserved for Andrew and Andrew alone. It’s strange that Andrew should love Neil’s fighting spirit as much as he does. After all, it was Andrew who taught Neil how to stand and fight in the first place.

It’s a fact that neither will ever let the other forget.

Neil leaves the shower sporting several more bruises than he entered with. Some are from Exy, some are from fighting, and some are from Andrew’s mouth.

He loves them all just the same.

 * Thanks for reading, let me know what you think! Still open to prompts etc.

[moiraineswife]

Caleb’s Episode 49 Confession Meta

Time for some things that are probably obvious af but they’re Sad and Angsty so I’m going to through them in a meta piece. Because I like to meta about Sad Things and that’s just Caleb through-and-through. So we’re going to talk about Caleb’s episode 49 confession and a few things we can derive from what was said.

I think his comments about Trent were quite telling, both about his behaviour presently, and also about how he thinks about/feels about Trent.

“He believed that the unwashed masses relied on their base instincts and the highest calling was to rise above the muck and control the cattle for the good of all.”

This quote says a lot about why, when he’s trying to hide desperately from Trent, he covers himself in dirt, and mud. Perhaps taking that too literally, but he never thinks that Trent will look for him, or notice him if he’s just one of the ‘cattle’.

When he sees the two elves from the Assembly in Felderwind, the first thing he does is, not just rub dirt on himself, he full on faceplants into the ground and rubs dirt all over himself as an instinctual response. It’s like Nott’s porcelain mask, it gives him comfort, it helps him hide, it makes him feel safe and invisible. Which is exactly what Caleb wants to be.

He’s been special. He’s been singled out. He’s been the top of the class, the one everyone’s watching, and pushing, and believing in him and it nearly destroyed him. Now he wants to be no-one. He wants to be nothing, not least because that’s about how he views himself self-esteem wise. But that’s safe. Being noticed isn’t. He put his hood up in the victory pit. He covered himself with mud so that he blends in with everyone else.

I also think that that little incident with Jester, when they talked about money, it was a rejection of ideals, not Jester’s ideals, Jester I think just accidentally triggered this. But I think it was Trent’s ideals in terms of believing that peasants are lesser in some way, and that was a small rejection of those ideals.

While he’s telling the group his story, he abbreviates part of his story, just saying, “I went a little crazy.” Later, when he’s discussing Trent, he says, “He was a little mad himself.”

This connects him and Trent. That implication in that word ‘himself’ ties them together, he’s effectively saying ‘I went a little crazy, and Trent, he was a little mad, too’ it’s this uncomfortable link that he makes between himself and the man who groomed him, and brainwashed him, and abused him.

After he tells the group about the crystal experiments, he then says, ‘But everything was for empire...We were at war. We are at war. There were many that felt that way, that feel this way.”

That kind of ideology was fed to Caleb, Astrid, and Edowulf so exclusively that all three of them, upon having a false memory implanted into their minds showing their parents had been disloyal to the empire, were willing to murder them at Trent’s command. They killed other people that Trent brought them, dissenters, who were executed by these teenagers under this justification of everything being for your empire, your country, your society.

And that justification becomes an incredible powerful thing within the cycle of Trent’s abuse. Because it’s the justification that Caleb and the others use for the terrible things that they’ve done? So when Trent does terrible things to them, under the same justification, they’re almost forced, psychologically, to condone it. Because if they don’t condone Trent’s actions towards them, how can they condone their own actions against other people?

What Caleb does immediately after he tells the group about Trent’s twisted crystal experiments is to start making excuses for him. ‘It was for the empire’ ‘we were at war’ ‘it was for the greater good’ which also minimises the trauma and abuse that he endured.

A lot of traumatised people do that with their abusers, and I’m not a psychologist or anything, so don’t quote me on this, but I think, definitely in Caleb’s case, it’s again about taking some of the spotlight off of himself. But I also think it’s a fear response. It’s the same reason he smears himself with dirt and mud. He smears these harsh truths with gentling justifications and excuses (bullshit as they are) because if Trent ever found out he had told anyone about this, if he ever found out Caleb had complained about this, and disclosed details of his little experiments, that probably doesn’t even bear thinking about for Caleb.

Trent is a master manipulator that groomed Caleb in a likely very practised, very specific, very targeted way. He found a young boy from a small town with very little means who wanted to prove himself, and make something better of himself, and twisted him utterly. He made Caleb feel special, and important with his little private interviews, and chats, and then putting him into “advanced classes” as Caleb called them.

He twisted and controlled him to the point that Caleb consented (I use that word loosely, because coercion and ‘consent’ under this kind of abuse is not consent at all. Nevermind the fact Caleb was a minor at the time, but in his mind, that’s what I believe he thinks it was) to have agonising experiments conducted on him for this man.

Trent still influences everything that Caleb does, everything he thinks, everything he feels, everything he fears, everything he says. From what we’ve seen, he’s incredibly charming, just as a person, and also via some kind of strange magical influence which he used on Yasha. Imagine that presence, that influence, that power exerted on an impressionable, eager, hungry fifteen year old kid in a very concentrated, very personal manner for over two years.

And that all happened a long time ago, but psychologically, for Caleb, it didn’t. He was in an asylum for eleven years, but during that time, he still had the false memory that Trent implanted in him, and I highly doubt anyone would have been talking shit about the empire there. Abuse like Caleb’s needs to be validated from an external source before it can be believed.

So, really, Caleb spent eleven years trapped inside his own head feeling like he’d failed Trent, he’d failed his empire, his country, his home, the girl that he loved, the other students, literally everything he’d been taught to believe in.

Then one day someone magically zapped his brain and lifted that and he remembered everything. And from there he just went into a state of complete and utter panic. He admits himself that he’s been running for a long time, and that he’s been afraid all that time. He hasn’t exactly had time to process what he went through, to work out literally anything. All he’s been focused on is surviving.

Which makes a lot of sense. Because those memories are painful, and difficult, and it is so much easier to just blame himself, and hate himself, and punish himself than to examine what might have been done to him, how badly it might have damaged him, and how this man that he likely greatly respected and looked up to was always ever only using him.

-The last thing from that conversation/confession I want to talk about is: “I have been using you all” followed up with “If they see you with me they will use you to get to me” and “I don’t want one more thing on my head – you guys....It’s probably too late.”

I am SURE I’ve written meta about Caleb’s feelings towards the group before now, but this is kind of a more canon confirmation of what I thought.

Caleb was literally conditioned to be a weapon. He was made to execute dissenters of the empire from the ages of 15-17. Trent forced him to brutally kill his own fucking parents, I feel like he wasn’t exactly encouraged to care about people.

Caleb was used. He was taught that people were either useful, or they were not, they were ‘unwashed masses that relied on their base instincts’. And by ‘base instincts’ I’m assuming that Trent included ‘basic human decency/respect/caring about others’ in there. Love is a no-no.

So Caleb is battling with two years solid abuse and actual literal magical brainwashing plus torture, plus god knows what else plus eleven years of solitude in which he’s had time to brood on what an awful, pathetic failure he is to everyone and everything, and then like...5 months where he’s been half-starving to death, terrified out of his wits, and on the run. I feel like it’s a bit much to expect the dude to be able to admit that he cares about these people, even when he does.

But that denial, that excuse, that lame lie ‘I have been using you all’ is another dirt mask for Caleb. It’s something that keeps him safe. If Trent were to appear, right now, and demand to know if he cared about these people, Caleb is well practised in being able to say ‘no, I don’t, I’ve just been using them to fulfil my own ends and protect me’. It’s a protection thing, except this time it’s not himself he’s protecting, it’s them.

There’s also, I think, a deeper, far more twisted layer in that by saying this, it’s one way he can not fail Trent. He’s still sticking to this part of his teaching. He’s not being stupid and weak and falling in with the unwashed masses, he’s just using them, the way Trent used people.

I don’t think that Caleb consciously wants to be like Trent, but I do still think there’s over a decade of self-hatred and feeling like a failure, as well as a nice, generous heaping of Stockholm syndrome. I think this is a very strange, twisted combination of his desire, subconsciously, to still be linked with Trent, along the lines of linking their madness which...could not be more different, but hey! Abuse don’t give a shit about ur logic.

I think it’s also the fact that on some level he hates Trent. But he also hates himself. So telling himself that he’s like Trent, and believing he’s doing the things to others that Trent did to him gives him a false sense of power over him, but it’s also a bit like his fire magic? It’s a way of retraumatising himself, and punishing himself, but also I think, a bit like Trent’s crystal experiments, it’s punishment, and it’s pain, and it’s torture being used as a means of strengthening himself.

It’s him giving in to Trent’s teachings which are literally everywhere. He has these slips where he wonders why he’s with this group because they can’t help him achieve his goals, and he tells himself they’re slowing him down, and that’s Trent talking, not Caleb.

But then he utterly undermines it by saying that if anyone sees them with him, they’ll hurt him, and that he doesn’t want their lives set to his account, too. If he was using them, he literally wouldn’t say any of that, because it risks exposing himself in order to protect them.

I think that, in a massively oversimplified version of the real complicated psychological mess that is Caleb Widogast: the things he says and to an extent the things that he thinks, and feels are Trent.

The things that he DOES are Caleb.

He says that he shouldn’t be travelling with these people. That they’re not going to help him. That he’s wasting his time with them.

But he stays.

He says that he’s using them, and he won’t admit that he cares about them (because that’s dangerous, and not allowed).

But he literally rips open the most painful experiences of his life, risks himself to warn them about his past and what he’s been through and what he’s done in order to protect them.

Caleb says that he doesn’t care because he can’t. He can’t let himself care. Because it’s terrifying, and dangerous and has been used against him over and over and he’s spent years of his life believing that it’s wrong. And it tears him apart because he does. He does care. And it’s killing him, because it terrifies him.

Listen the tl;dr of this thing is that i love caleb widogast a whole lot, i think liam is doing an incredible job portraying a trauma and abuse survivor and, uh, i will fight you with thousands and thousands of ranting words of meta if ur rude about him. Have a nice day.

[chronicfangirling]

At that place (2 of 2)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (feat. Yoongi x OC, one-sided Jin x OC) Genre: Fluff/Angst, long-distance relationships, pining exes, idol problems, double/triple dates, GIRLFRIENDS (please appreciate female friendships more) Words: 9119 Requested by: Anon

Can i request a jungkookie scenario based on their song i like it pt. 2? A fluffy ending pleaseeeee or whatever you decide. Thank you. ❤

A/N: Writer’s block defeated! Better late than never?

pt1. |  pt.2

You woke up to Saren putting the final touches to a complete breakfast spread. After weeks of having to make do with toast and jam and whatever you can scrounge in the pantry, you blinked, almost certain that it was a mirage. Stacks of fluffy buttermilk pancakes,  strawberries in sweet cream, sunny side-up eggs, seared sausages, fragrant steamed rice… you've been dreaming of eating all those things again. Saren took a platter of perfectly crisped, thick-cut bacon from the counter and waved it in invitation. You pounced, grabbing a strip of bacon in each hand, and biting them alternately.

Mayu returned from her jog, the morning paper in hand. With purposeful strides, she sat down on the table across you and said proudly: "You're back, my dear."

"Yes." Saren nodded, tugging at a lock of hair framing her face, smiling sheepishly. "I'm sorry for being pathetic."

"You were pretty pathetic," Mayu agreed. "But it happens to everyone. Though this loser stint of yours has made Y/N has swear off toast for the rest of her life, it seems."

The older women looked at you and you shook your head in a panic. "No, no--I'm fine!" You were well aware that the way you clutched at fistfuls of bacon undermined those words, but you didn't want her to think that you were obliging her to make breakfast. "I like toast with jam and butter... and also, I'm glad you're feeling better." The last part sounded like an afterthought, but it was true that her uncharacteristic behavior had been concerning.

"Well, don't worry, because those loser days are over," Saren declared. "I'm giving up on Kim Seokjin."

You scrunched your nose thinking, that it wasn't as if they had a relationship anyway, but you caught those less-than-kind thoughts. Just because there wasn't a relationship, doesn't mean her feelings weren't real. They were simply unrequited.

"Good!" Mayu raised her mug of chai latte and clinked it with Saren's coffee. "I didn't like seeing you exert so much effort for that stuck-up pretty boy anyway!"

Saren shook her head. "For once, I tried my best, and I have no regrets. I used to never take chances when it came to love because I was too scared of being rejected. Rejection does hurt... but it's bearable, you know? It was a lot worse, not knowing what it would be like and being terrified to make any moves."

"I guess an old dog can learn new tricks after all, if our sempai could learn this in her ripe old age," Mayu teased, dodging when Saren threw a bit of pancake at her. You laughed, but didn't join in the ribbing--you had only known them for a few months, and weren't comfortable enough yet to do so. Still, this house had been a good place to take refuge in after your heartbreak and you hoped you would soon reach that level of camaraderie with them.

"Seriously though, I feel a lot braver now." Saren said. "And when another chance, another possible love comes along, I won't even hesitate--I'll try again."

"What?" You dropped a sunny side-up egg on your lap and winced; thankfully not breaking it. Gingerly poking at it, you muttered: "You'd still try again?"

Saren slipped a spatula under the egg and transferred it to a saucer with the yolk intact. "Of course, Y/N. What's there to life but to keep trying?"

Mayu made a face as you retrieved the formerly fallen egg and started digging into it. "But..." You frowned at Saren. "You got your heart broken! What if that happens again?"

"Then it happens," she said, taking an egg for herself and putting it on top of a bowl of rice, then sitting beside Mayu. "It's worth the possibility of finally finding love, isn't it?"

You watched her sprinkle soy sauce on her egg before mashing it into the rice. "Wasn't it Einstein who said 'insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results?'"

Saren shifted to lecturer mode, her voice deepening from its usual tone. "First of all, nobody's sure if this quote was actually misattributed to Einstein, although he does have a stronger claim to it than the other candidates. Secondly, this quote should be taken within the context of the scientific method, wherein controlled variables will naturally result in the same set of results. And lastly..." she reached across the table to pat your head, though she was shorter than you and had to strain. "Love isn't exactly rational, our dear baby."

"Sempai!" Mayu cried with exaggerated fervor. "You've truly had an enlightenment." She laughed while Saren whined about her cool moment being ruined.

"'Baby...'" you murmured, patting where she had patted your head. It was strange, but not entirely unpleasant, for you to be showered with this kind of affection, when most of your life, you hadn't gotten so much. Just like your ex-boyfriend Jeon Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was probably too accustomed to receiving so much love that he didn't appreciate it anymore, but for you...

You smiled at your roommates--Mayu was trying to feed Saren strawberries in apology, but Saren continued pouting. You didn't think it would be easy to do, this trying again thing, but you would at least have to think about it.

***

"Jungkook..." You stared at your ex-boyfriend, flanked by his older group members, as they stood at your porch. Yoongi wasn't a surprise, but even Seokjin had come with them again. Before you could stop yourself, you had already smoothed your hands over your hair, which was thrown in a messy bun--you didn't expect to be seeing him today--or on any day--after all.

"Hi... we have a lot of schedules in Tokyo so we're staying for a while." He gave you a small wave but made no move to step forward.

Yoongi side-stepped him and asked: "Is Mayu at home?"

"Yeah... umm, come in." You belatedly waved them into the living room. Mayu peered over her books and color-coded notes covering the coffee table and gasped in surprised delight at the sight of her boyfriend, gathering all her review materials and dumping them on the beanbag in the corner, which was already littered with Saren's novels. She tucked herself under his waiting arm as she led him to the loveseat. "I didn't know you're coming over."

"Surprise?" he shrugged, a pleased grin plastered on his face.

At that moment, Saren skipped in the living room, her long lace skirt whirling around her, her prized silver tea caddy engraved with cherry blossoms nestled in her hands. "Our baby, do you want chocolate chip cookies or peanut butter cookies with tea..?" She froze when she saw the guys, nearly dropping the tea caddy.

"Ah... you look nice," Seokjin mumbled, looking a little taken aback. After all, Saren had been taking extra care of her appearance, saying that pretty dresses and makeup can be like armor for women, especially after having been hurt. As you tugged self-consciously at the large black hoodie you had thrown over your worn yet comfy gray leggings while your visiting ex was in designer clothing, you had to consider that her idea had some merits.

"T-Thanks," Saren stammered in response, looking a lot more taken aback herself. "Umm, we were about to have tea, would you like some too... you guys?"

"Both," you said. "For the cookies."

"Yes, please." Seokjin replied. Yoongi nodded.

"If it's not too much trouble," Jungkook added.

"I'll help you," Mayu offered. "Y/N, you stay here with the guests."

"Me..?" You looked round at the 'guests': Yoongi who was pouting that his girlfriend had disentangled herself from his arms, Seokjin who was smiling shamelessly as if he weren't responsible for the current awkwardness... and Jungkook, who gazed at you with wide, innocent eyes. "I'm helping too!" You dashed after your roommates into the kitchen.

"Ah, but it's rude to leave your guests unattended," Saren remarked, as she measured delicate leaves into the teapot and arranged the cups on the tray while waiting for the water to boil.

"They're not my 'guests,' they're Mayu's guest and his companions," you retorted, leaning against the counter and not being very helpful.

"One of my guest's so-called companions is your ex-boyfriend, who doesn't seem to be happy about being an ex at all." Mayu pointed out. She was preparing a separate pot with dark, roasted leaves.

"Yah..." you pouted at your roommates. "It's not like that!"

"Look at our baby acting cute," Saren giggled.

"I wasn't!" you denied. But you caught yourself pouting again, so you set your lips in a straight line. For all the good that did--Saren still giggled as if she thought you were a precocious child. "And I thought we're giving up on trying to chase after relationships that don't mean anything."

"That's just me and Seokjin." Saren shrugged and moved on to pulling out sheets of freshly-baked cookies from the oven, plating some and setting the rest on the cooling rack. "That was just me, one-sidedly hoping... but there was nothing there."

"You and Jungkook on the other hand..." Mayu cocked her head at you. "There's still something there."

You silently watched your roommates brew the tea, and you could've let that thread of conversation die... but something compelled you to talk about it. "I just... don't want to misunderstand... that I mean something when I'm nothing." When their heads turned toward you, you dropped your gaze on your white-knuckled hands grasping the kitchen counter.

"You're not like me." Saren said. "You mean something."

"Hey! Just because you didn't mean anything to Kim Seokjin doesn't mean you can't mean something to someone else." Mayu turned from Saren to you. "And if you don't want to be with Jungkook, then that might be for the best. But don't use what happened to Saren and Seokjin as an excuse to deny your real feelings... nor the possibility of Jungkook's."

"I... I..." Stuttering, you tried--and failed--to make a coherent protest.

Mayu and Saren exchanged looks, the former shook her head with a chuckle and the latter smiled at you and squeezed your hand. "Well... think about what you want, alright?" Saren took the tray with the two tea pots, leaving you with the plates of cookies, but she waited for Mayu to lead the way back to the living room. For all her apparent calm, your roommate still wasn't completely confident to face the man who had thoroughly rejected her after all. Yet she took the seat before Seokjin, looking like the picture of poise as she poured tea into the cups, despite the slight tremor of her hands. "Here you go," she presented the first cup to Seokjin, as the oldest one among the guests. "This is a very special tea variety."

Emulating her, you took the seat before Jungkook and handed him a cup as well. "Y/N... thanks," he took the cup from you, starting as your fingers accidentally brushed against his, as if the simple contact had affected him as much as it always affected you.

"You should try it too, Yoongs, though I got you hojicha as well, you don't exactly have a subtle palate," Mayu teased, offering a cup of the dark tea to her boyfriend and settling in the loveseat with him.

He smirked, but his sharp eyes had softened as he gazed at her over the cup. "You know my tastes well."

"What a pretty, vivid color," Seokjin observed, swirling the cup. His eyes widened as he brought the cup closer to his lips. "And so fragrant!"

"It is so." Saren nodded, taking her own cup of tea.

Seokjin took a sip and sighed in wonder. "This is different from all green tea that I've had before."

"It's gyokuro," Saren explained. "It develops its special flavor and aroma by growing covered in the shade."

"I see. It blooms in the shade unobserved and then surprises you with its loveliness, how dangerous." He smiled at her, a little too charmingly, and you couldn't help but think, *how dangerous.*

Saren dropped her gaze to her cup and Mayu sneered at him. "I'm sure you didn't come here to talk about tea."

Saren gaped at her best friend's thinly-veiled hostility, but quickly recovered. "Obviously, Seokjin came here to accompany Yoongi who wanted to visit you."

At her words, Yoongi choked on his tea. "That's kinda cute," Mayu chuckled.

Turning red, he cried: "This wasn't my idea!"

"A grown man shouldn't play hard to get," Saren tutted.

You snickered, but Jungkook blinked at you with those clear, round eyes. "It really wasn't Yoongi's idea."

"Ah, I was the one who said we should come over." Seokjin set down his empty cup and raised a hand.

"Why?!" Mayu blurted out.

"What man wouldn't want to be in the company of such lovely ladies..?" Seokjin declared in his typical flirty manner, but he caught himself and looked round; at Mayu, who glared at him; at Saren, who blinked at him in disbelief; and at you, who winced. *Acting like this was what made Saren misunderstand... it wasn't just her fault.* Yoongi sighed under his breath and Jungkook reflected your own wince.

But then Saren laughed, with a feigned shudder. "How greasy! How can you guys live with this guy?" she asked Yoongi and Jungkook, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Doesn't it get embarrassing?"

The tension dissipated with Yoongi smirking and Jungkook nodding emphatically. "He's seriously so embarrassing!" Jungkook stressed.

"Yah!" Seokjin protested. "What do you mean by 'greasy,' and 'embarrassing?' I'm totally charming and a point of pride for our group!"

"There he goes again, ugh!" Jungkook shuddered.

"Have some shame for the younger ones," Saren teased.

"Well, if she's going to be like that..." Mayu shook her head, smiling wryly. "Seokjin, don't embarrass my boyfriend, he has a way cooler image than you," she chided, but her tone was jesting, her animosity calmed when she saw how her best friend had responded in such a lighthearted manner.

"So aside from being embarrassed by this shameless one, what have you guys been doing?" Saren asked.

"I want to know too," Mayu said. "Yoongi never talks about work."

"I do tell you about work, but I don't want to talk too much about it." He wrinkled his nose.

"Since I'm your girlfriend, you should talk to me about it more."

"Since you're my girlfriend, I'd rather talk to you about other things." His arm draped around her shoulder and pulled her closer. "Like how you're doing or your own work. I find you very interesting after all." Mayu elbowed him lightly, her cheeks flushed.

"Well, isn't he greasy too sometimes?" Seokjin griped.

"Oh hush, it's cute." Saren said.

Seokjin and Yoongi talked about their current schedules in Tokyo at your roommates' request, while you listened idly and drank tea. It took a while for you to realize that Jungkook was watching you in silence.

"What?" you whispered, not wanting to interrupt your friends' conversation.

"Nothing..." He smiled tentatively. "It's just... I thought you didn't like tea."

You gaped at him, surprised that he had even noticed. To hide your shock, you refilled your cup and blew away the steam. "I didn't before. But Saren and Mayu drink it all the time, so I got used to it."

"Even on cold days, you wouldn't drink it, you'd rather drink cola or even iced water," he mused.

"Well, I guess I've changed." You were nearing panic with how your heart started thudding in your ears, so you grabbed a peanut butter cookie and pushed the whole thing in your mouth so you wouldn't have to talk.

"But... you still like peanut butter cookies as much as chocolate chip cookies, and you still stuff your mouth with food when you're nervous." He chuckled as your purposeful chewing slowed. "Even if some things changed, I still want to believe that you're the Y/N that I know... from the happiest times of my life."

"That's..." You nearly choked on your cookie, searching for a retort, but this wasn't the cocky, international Kpop star Jungkook who couldn't seem to care less about your break-up. In fact, this was more like that shy golden boy who seemed unaware of his own sparkle. The same one you fell in love with...

The Super Mario theme pierced through the heavy air and Seokjin answered his phone. Mayu and Yoongi rolled their eyes at the childish ringtone and Saren merely smiled. "Hey, Dongwook. I thought we wouldn't be needed for two hours? Ah, okay..."

"I guess that's our cue..." Yoongi mumbled.

Mayu gave him a smile that looked rather tight, but she also gave him a tender kiss. "Call soon."

"We'll meet again soon." he promised, squeezing her hand.

"Good luck with today's schedule," Saren said to all of them, with no particular attention to Seokjin. She cleared the tea set and plates into the tray and started to head to the kitchen.

"Oh--thanks for the the tea and the cookies!" Seokjin called after her.

She looked back over her shoulder and started to say something, but instead pressed her lips together and nodded politely. At another time, she would be overzealous about asking Seokjin's opinion and pressing homemade food as affection, but it looked like she was serious about keeping her distance.

"Umm, hey, Saren--!" Jungkook's cry stopped her in her tracks again. "Umm, well... is it okay..." he smiled sheepishly. "To have some of the cookies?"

"Yes!" Seokjin chimed in. "They were good."

She laughed lightly and winked at you. "You're going to have to ask Y/N about that, since I made them for her." Handily foisting the guys on you, she carried the dishes back to the kitchen.

Jungkook shook his head at you, "Y/N, you don't have to--"

You shook your head in turn. "Just wait here...  for the cookies." You went into the kitchen, all but pushing Saren from the sink to do the washing.

"Are you sure this is okay?" you asked Saren as you washed the tea set and she set aside the cooled cookies into separate jars and into a box for the guys. "Aren't you even a little angry at Seokjin for rejecting you?"

"I am angry," she confessed. "Even though I realize that the same way I couldn't help like him, he couldn't help not like me, it still makes me angry."

"So why would you welcome him into our home again?"

"Because to welcome him into our home means to welcome Yoongi and Jungkook into our home... means to support Mayu and you."

You finished the washing and faced her. "Mayu maybe, but me...?"

Saren smiled knowingly at you. "In any case, it's better for everyone that I don't hold a grudge against Kim Seokjin. Who knows, we may even become friends one day."

"Friends..." you mumbled. After Jungkook had broken your heart, being friends was the last thing you had wanted to do. You had only wanted to make him regret everything.

You returned to the living room and handed the box of cookies to Jungkook, who said: "Y/N... thanks. I... I'll see you...?"

"I... yeah, I guess." You shrugged, turning away. But when you heard his retreating footsteps, you looked over your shoulder to watch him get in the car driven by Dongwook and ride away with his colleagues.

The next day, you saw Mayu sneer then chuckle as she checked her SNS. You saw a selfie of Seokjin holding a paper cup of green tea latte and wearing a smile for his fans, and Yoongi's obscure post with a tumbler of konacha and cup ramen, and knew which post drew those respective reactions. Jungkook didn't make a post, but he did text you.

JJK: "I understand now why you like peanut butter cookies. The subtly sweet, slightly salty, crunchy cookies are good too, in a different way. I guess things don't always have to be soft and saccharine to be nice." Y/N: ":)"

You had agonized over how to respond, but ended up with a blandly smiling emoji. You found yourself disappointed when he had no follow-up messages--you understood that your response wasn't very inviting, but you hadn't wanted to come across as desperate and over-eager... much like before...

Back when you were a couple, you were the one who had tried, maybe not your best, but at least you had tried. Why was it that you were still the one with so many regrets?

***

(One week before the breakup)

Your calls went unanswered once, twice--maybe five times--that by the time that Jungkook picked up the phone, you screamed: "Who's that girl in that picture?"

You heard him hiss "hush!" and hurried footsteps--the background sounds of their upcoming song, his groupmates' chatter, and staffers calling them to lunch died down after a door slammed. "What picture?" he mumbled, his voice reverberating in a way that made you think he had shut himself in a closet.

"The one on your SNS!"

"I didn't upload any pictures."

"Are you really going to pretend not to know about it?" you demanded.

"Y/N..." he sighed. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"That girl--" you spat, "--tagged you in a pic looking all cozy! I'm not allowed to post pictures with you or to tag you, but it's fine when she does it, is that it?"

You heard him sigh deeply. "You know what, I'm tired. I was working--"

"So hanging out with girls in parties is working now?"

"You know going to those things is also part of our job!" He actually raised his voice at you, and you were taken aback. Perhaps he realized it, because his tone returned to normal. "She's the daughter of one of the company directors... it doesn't mean anything."

"She keeps showing you off to everybody! She obviously wants it to mean something!"

"It's not like that--"

"I don't know if you're stupidly innocent or you're so sly that you can act like you are!" You knew that you were starting to sound like the unhinged jealous girlfriend, so you bit your lip to prevent more accusations from spilling and took a noisy breath. "That girl's after you. So many girls are... and I... I can't even do anything to stop them!"

Instead of comforting you, Jungkook protested: "You're not supposed to do anything to stop them! You're supposed to trust me."

"Trust you? When you go around hanging out with other girls when they're daughters of directors?"

"... And what do you mean by that?" His tone was stiff, as if his jaw was clenched.

"I don't mean anything. Did you really do something suspicious for that to mean something?" you sneered, with grating disingenuousness.

"Y/N... I'm tired and you're angry. I'm going to hang up now before we both say something we regret."

"Jungkook!" you screamed. "Jeon Jungkook, don't you dare hang up. Or else--"

His voice was barely above a whisper, but cutting just the same. "Or else, what?"

"... Or else I'm going to break up with you!"

"Do whatever you want," he muttered. "That's all you keep doing anyway."

"What? That's not true... Jungkook! Jungkook!"

You never wanted to breakup, but you didn't really have a choice... At that point, Jungkook just seemed to be waiting for you to do it anyway. You had pettily thought that breaking up through text would cause him the most pain of all. But you found out that the only thing more painful than a "Let's break up" text message was to get a mere "Ok" in response.

***

You looked round at the three idols standing on your porch again. "You're all here. Again."

"It's like you don't want to see us, Y/N." Seokjin pouted, clutching his chest in mock hurt.

"It's not that, it's just..." It's just that I'm wondering why I'm seeing Jungkook a lot more now than when he was actually my boyfriend... "Come in," you said, suppressing a sigh as you stepped aside and let them through the door.

Mayu had been waiting for her boyfriend in the living room this time. She stood up and walked over to him, but kept herself at arm's length, a teasing grin playing on her lips. "Yoongi."

He raised an eyebrow at her and didn't reach for her either. "Mayu."

For a few seconds, they stared each other down in their weird tsun-tsun face-off game. He cracked first, looping an arm around her waist to draw her into a slow, passionate kiss. Your face burned and you glanced away, only to meet an equally flushed Jungkook's eyes. Both of you coughed and turned away from each other, and you could've sworn you saw Jungkook swallow hard.

To dissipate the tension, you called out: "Saren, Saren--umm, could you help me make tea?"

"But Y/N, we just had lunch--" Saren paused when she saw the guys taking seats in the living room, nodding at each of them. Her glance didn't even linger too long upon Seokjin. "Of course. I'll be right back." She waved you off when you made a move to follow her.

"We shouldn't let her do all the work," you murmured.

Mayu, who had disentangled herself from Yoongi to glance at Saren, shook her head and whispered to you: "Easier for her than to stay here. in awkwardness."

Saren returned with tea, several slices of Camembert cheesecake for the guys and buttery shortbread cookies. "I feel bad that you had to go through the trouble," Seokjin said, even as he ooh-ed over the cheesecake.

"I guess he's not so shameless after all," Mayu murmured.

"It wasn't much," Saren said. She handed him a box from the tray. "By the way, you said you wanted some of that gyokuro, so I got a box for you when I went to the tea shop to restock."

"Thank you! You're so thoughtful, I'm indebted to you." His eyes crinkled as he smiled, and her smile was melancholic as she dropped her gaze away, her cheeks pink.

"I take it back." Mayu muttered, leaning back on the loveseat that she shared with Yoongi as usual.

Yoongi rubbed her arm soothingly. "So there's a reason why we're here..."

"Oh, it wasn't because you missed me?" she gasped in mock outrage.

"It's related to that, babe." His hand caressed her arm lazily now, with more sensuous movements. "We've been nominated in this event... what's it called?"

"Gold Disc awards," Jungkook supplied helpfully.

Both Mayu and Saren gape at that. "You've heard of it?" Seokjin asked. Saren nodded.

"You impress me more and more, you know?" Mayu patted Yoongi's cheek and he smiled a giggly gummy smile, practically nuzzling against her hand.

"We're having an after-party at the Sky Lounge. You're coming." His declaration was followed by a far less confident question: "Umm... right?" You nearly snorted over how whipped he was.

"Of course," she agreed. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Jungkook took a deep breath and his next words tumbled out in a rush: "You too--Y/Nyoucangoright?"

"Umm, what?" you asked, though you had heard him. You had... but you weren't sure that you heard him right.

"Could you... come too?" he bit his lip, his endearing bunny teeth peeking through.

"Me?" You blinked at him. It was unprecedented, for you to come along to one of his fancy work events--you hardly got to go to any events with him, period. But he was looking at you with such wide eyes, that it almost seemed that he sincerely wanted you to come. "I, umm--are you going?" You turned to Saren in desperation.

Her grip tightened around her tea cup, and you realized she wasn't sure if she was part of that invitation and then you weren't sure either. You felt like kicking yourself. "Y/N... I... I don't think I'm supposed--"

"Oh, but it will be fun!" Seokjin interjected. "We hired a sushi chef and a tempura chef, and an open bar with wine from five different countries."

"I see... I may have to work then though, so... I'll have to check. Excuse me." She smiled politely and collected the empty dishes on the tray and took them to the kitchen before heading upstairs. By the time she returned, Dongwook had come back for Seokjin.

"Well, I'm off now, I just dropped by to say hi and give the invitation," Seokjin said.

"Before going on prowl for the girls of Tokyo, huh?" Mayu snorted, her words having a little more bite than mere teasing. It seemed to you that she could never fully forgive the man for rejecting her best friend, even as she deigned to have him around as one of her boyfriend's colleagues and friends.

Seokjin chuckled wordlessly and didn't deny the accusation. He looked at Saren and noticed that she was carrying her purse and had a light coat over her dress. "Oh, are you going somewhere?"

She nodded. "Yes... I need to go to work for a while."

"Teacher, it's not even your work day!" Dongwook cried. "You should take a rest, go on some dates--you look pretty enough to go on a date right now!"

She giggled uneasily. "Maybe some other time."

"I'll introduce you to some guys," Dongwook offered eagerly. Mayu raised an intrigued eyebrow at you and you dropped your mouth open in exaggerated shock.

"Thank you for the consideration," Saren said, without agreeing, and walked ahead.

"Yah, which guys do you know besides us... and other idols..." Seokjin frowned.

"Well, she seems to like idols." Dongwook grinned and cupped his mouth to whisper to Seokjin, but all of you could hear him. "If it all goes well, you don't have to be burdened anymore, right Seokjin?"

"Huh?!" Seokjin's brows furrowed even more.

But the junior manager had run after Saren then: "Teacher, wait up! We'll drop you off at work!" Seokjin followed them, shaking his head uncertainly.

"Well, A for effort, Dongwook." Mayu smirked. "Idols make such terrible romantic prospects though," Mayu remarked, drawing an offended grumble from her own idol boyfriend. She slung her arms around his neck and winked at him. "Of course, there are exceptions..."

It didn't go unnoticed to you, Jungkook's silent, stricken gasp at Mayu's words. But you didn't have much time to dwell on it, as Mayu and Yoongi started playing a movie and invited both of you to join them.

After an afternoon of hanging out with Jungkook and your mutual friends--which was remarkable in that it felt unremarkable, as if you were getting used to it--you spent the evening revising a paper for school, and then you were getting ready for bed. You had already switched off the main light and switched on your night light when your phone rang. It was Jungkook. You composed yourself, sat on the edge of your bed, and answered: "Hello?"

"I'm sorry," he said.

"... Eh?" You wrinkled your nose. "For what?"

"For having been a terrible boyfriend back then."

You hesitated. "You weren't.... terrible, per se..."

"If I wasn't, then why did we break up?"

You had no answer to that question.

"I didn't mean to make you miserable."

"But I wasn't."

"Huh?"

"I wasn't..." You had only said that out of an instinct to be polite, but repeating the words, you realize now that they were true. You had become increasingly frustrated towards the end of the relationship, and that frustration was still fresh in your mind when your paths crossed again, and you couldn't help but treat him with hostility. But your relationship wasn't what made you miserable, it was how it ended. The fact that it ended. Now that your anger over the breakup had dissipated, but you could be honest... you had never regretted having been with Jeon Jungkook.

"Really? But..."

"Even when I couldn't hold your hand, it was nice to walk beside you. Even when I couldn't post pictures with you, I liked taking pictures with you."

"I--I liked those things too!"

"I'm so glad to hear that. Because for me, even when it wasn't always good, there were still moments to be happy about. It seemed like a miracle, that the person I like had agreed to be with me, you know?" you chuckled, more to yourself. "That's why sometimes, just knowing in my heart that I was the one who was with you, even though the world would never know... it made me happy. That Jeon Jungkook was with me... more often than not, it was enough."

"Y/N..." His breath sounded ragged over the phone and you were glad that he couldn't see you cover your nose as it started to get runny while your eyes started to get wet. "There's something I should--" A firm voice in the background cut him off, calling for him and the other members of his group.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye..."

"But Y/N--"

"You've worked hard, Jungkookie," you sighed. "You've always worked hard..."

***

Saren may not have been active on SNS any longer, however she still had friends who were. As soon as you opened your feed, out popped a picture uploaded by the guys' junior manager, Dongwook, wherein he tagged Saren. It was from their academy's cultural exchange festival; Saren had pulled out the big guns--a furisode kimono patterned with cherry blossoms--and Dongwook had captured her in blooming glory. You would've suspected that they were getting suspiciously close, but you knew that Dongwook was now dating another one of Saren's students, thanks to her earnest matchmaking. Dongwook had been completely unsubtle about returning the favor and seemed intent to sell your roommate to any eligible men of his acquaintance. Judging from the reactions to the picture, he was doing well on that front. "Liked by Jaehyung, Mark, Myungsoo.... who are these guys?"

"This is quality." You grinned and liked the picture. It was then that you noticed the tag that said: "You and JJK liked this." You frowned as you clicked it, starting to overthink why your ex-boyfriend was going around liking your very single roommate's picture, only to be distracted when you saw that among the reactions was a '<3' from Seokjinnie.

You made a beeline for Saren, who was curled in the bean bag in the living room, nestled in her books littering the cushion. "Guess who--not just liked, but hearted--your picture?"

Saren looked up at you questioningly, and you could clearly see that she had no clue what you were talking about--she was too transparent to hide her emotions. Far be it from you to pick at a wound that seemed to be healing slowly, but surely, you said: "It's me, I did, your picture was amazing, and the way you looked in that kimono was just... wow, amazing!"

Saren's hand hovered over her phone--and to your relief--she stopped and gave you a wry smile. "Alright, what do you want? Is there something in particular you want for dinner?"

"Nothing, can't I give my sempai a compliment?" You shrugged. "But... doesn't mentaiko pasta sound super good right now?"

"Doesn't it?" she enthused. "You know I'm glad you like it, since Mayu hates it but there are days when I crave it. She'll have to make do with the leftover gyudon from last night." Saren skipped to the kitchen without checking her SNS.

Your sigh of relief turned into a yelp, when your phone vibrated in your hand. You checked the screen and your heartbeat started accelerating when you saw Jungkook's name. "Umm..."

"Hey, Y/N."

"Hi."

"How are you doing?"

"Good..." You tucked your hair behind your ear, as if he could see you.

"I see. That's... good." You could almost see him messing up his hair in the way that he did whenever he was nervous.

As if... I'm just projecting...  "Yeah... um, how about you?"

"Good. Busy, but good. We had a lot to do in Korea, that's why we haven't been to Tokyo in a while."

"Okay... I mean, that's expected. You guys being busy."

"Yeah..." The other end of the line fell into total silence, as if he had stopped pacing.

"So... why did you call?" Lest he think you were telling him not to call, you quickly added: "I mean, is there any particular reason...?"

"Yeah, actually I'm calling about that event. You know... the after-party?"

"What about it?"

"Just wanted to ask if you were coming..."

"Yeah... you guys invited all three of us, right?" You bit your lip. "Unless you don't want me to come--"

"I want you to come!" He yelled. He seemed to realize this, because his next words came out in a whisper. "It's just that you never did say if you could come, you know..."

"Oh... sorry." You untucked and retucked your hair behind your ear and sat primly on the couch. "That's bad form isn't it? Not confirming promptly."

"That's fine, that's fine," he said. "As long as you're coming."

"I am."

"Well... we don't have free time before the event, so I'll see you there."

"See you."

When the call ended, you sighed. How nice it would've been if you could've been this way while you were a couple--Jungkook bringing you to places and having him act like he actually wanted you there. But now all you were is an awkward failed couple tangled by your friends' relationships.

***

(Twelve months before the breakup)

It all started during a trip to Tokyo with your camera club. It was through the club that you met him, and you were certain that you could do nothing more but nurse a crush on him from afar, but it was the shining Jeon Jungkook himself who came to you. He was sweet and talented and humble, and despite his shyness, he was always friendly towards you, asking about your photography projects and drawing you out of your own shy shell. It was impossible--it would be a miracle that one such as Jeon Jungkook would return your feelings--but the way he acted made you feel that it was a possibility.

"W-Would you like to come with me?" you asked him as he slung his camera bag on his shoulder. "I know a nice place to take photos..."

"I was planning to go to Akihabara--"

"Believe me, this is better!" you insisted. You almost grabbed his hand, but managed to stop yourself and snatch at the strap of his camera bag instead.

"W-Wait, Y/N!" He nearly tumbled as you pulled him to the sidewalk, but he allowed himself to be pushed into the taxi you flagged down and went with you.

When the taxi stopped, you flung open the door and tugged him to alight after you. He nearly tripped, but he froze in a half crouch when he took in the sight before the two of you. "Wha... is--is that Tokyo Tower?"

You nodded.

"But... I've never seen it look like this before!" he marveled.

"They call this the Diamond Veil...it's a special style of illumination," you explained.

"It's like a nighttime rainbow..." his whisper trailed off into an awed sigh.

"We could get closer but I thought you might find this point more interesting." You tucked your hair behind your ear and lowered your gaze, too shy to risk meeting his eyes. "You... wanted to do long exposure for this project, didn't you? You can see the trails of the cars and the images of the people passing by..."

"You're right, this is a great spot for what I want." From the corner of your eye, you could see him unpack his tripod and set up his camera. "This view... it's so perfect to share with someone special."

"That's why I brought you here..." you mumbled, half to yourself.

"Huh?" Jungkook looked up from his viewfinder and turned to you.

You started--you never expected him to hear you!  But Jungkook was looking at you now... And he was here with you now, sharing this special view. So you confessed: "That's why I brought you here! Jeon Jungkook, I--I like you!"

"Huuuh?!--" he gasped, but his breath of disbelief caught as you pulled at his hoodie to kiss him. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears, and your held breath burned in your lungs, but his soft, sweet lips calmed you, and when you pulled away, it was slow and deliberate, gazing into his eyes for an answer.

"Y/N..." He stared down at you, his lips still parted in surprise.

You realize then that he hasn't said anything in encouragement, nor even agreement, and you started to step away. "Sorry--!"

He didn't say anything then, no confessions nor declarations, but his arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer and kissed you. And that was how you found yourself with the shining Jeon Jungkook as your boyfriend. A boyfriend who often seemed more trouble than his weight in gold.

***

"I'm glad you talked me into coming along," Saren told Mayu. "It was worth it just to see this..." She gave you a sidelong glance, her eyes wide and bright.

"What?" You patted your hair, feigning unawareness at how good you looked with your braided updo and black halter-neck mini-dress.

The three of you were seated on the plush leather seats of a sleek black car sent by the guys. It was probably just Yoongi sending the car to take his girlfriend to the event, but the suited chaffeur had also looked for you and Saren, and Mayu had linked her arms with both of you... And now the three of you were on the way to the event.

"Our baby cleans up well, doesn't she?" Mayu winked at you.

"Hey!" you cried. "That's implying that I'm normally a mess!"

"What she means is that you're exceptionally pretty tonight." Saren clutched your arm and smiled up at you.

"Thank you..." you murmured. "Umm... you're really pretty too..." With a dainty floral headband in her wavy hair and blush-pink, chiffon gown, your roommate reminded you of a fairy.

"How about me?" Mayu grinned.

"You already know you look sexy," you grumbled. Mayu's wine-hued gown had a plunging V-neck and clung to her slim figure, and more importantly, she oozed confidence in it. "Yoongi's going to drool all over the club."

"Not as much as Jungkook," she snickered. You frowned, but before you could protest, the car stopped in front of the club and the chauffeur opened the door to allow the three of you alight. Mayu walked to the front desk, and said: "We're going to the party."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "May I see your invitations?"

"We don't have them," Mayu explained. "But we should be on the guest list."

"Sure." She rolled her eyes and nodded at the bouncer.

You had cowered back and Saren squeezed your arm tightly, but Mayu merely held up a finger at the imposing man. "Hold that thought, mister." She placed a call on her cellphone. "Well, hello to you too, sweetheart. I'm actually outside right now, and you wouldn't have been kept waiting if we had an actual physical invitation--I told you it would be troublesome."

In less than a minute, Yoongi had rushed out of the club, shouting: "Let her in!" Regaining his composure, he sauntered up towards her. "And... the others too," he added belatedly.

"So thoughtful," Saren quipped and you laughed.

"Y/N, is something wrong?" Jungkook stood at the doorway, looking out of breath. "I heard Yoongi..."

You shook your head and smiled in what you hoped was an assuring manner. When he gawked at you, you didn't know if you had failed at being assuring, or your look was having the intended effect on him.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..." The woman at the front desk bowed repeatedly, face twisted in contrition. Mayu gave her a small smile and nodded at Yoongi.

"You're not angry?" he asked.

Mayu shrugged. "She was just doing her job."

"You're so... reasonable, you know that?" he gushed, looking positively besotted. His smile turned cat-like as he looked her over admiringly, in *that* clingy gown.

"You guys should've told me they were here!" Seokjin took one long look at Saren and a short breath. "You're beautiful." Somehow you could tell that this wasn't one of his meaningless compliments--he gazed at her with wonder, as if seeing her for the first time.

"Thank you." She smiled, her cheeks pink and graced by that elusive dimple.

"You... you have a dimple." He still sounded breathless. "I-I never noticed. How..?"

"Yeah... it doesn't appear often."

"That's so cute." His eyes turned into crescent moons and his voice cracked as he giggled.

You frowned. Seokjin is acting... weird...

"Save some of your compliments for the rest of the ladies here," Saren teased. She walked past, waving at Dongwook the manager, and completely failing to notice the arm that Seokjin offered. He appeared startled, but followed after her.

"You know that you're so hot, right?" Yoongi smirked at Mayu as he offered his arm.

"I do... but you should always tell me, anyway." She took his arm, and to your surprise, he kissed her with no regard for the fact that they were in public, before leading her to your table at the VIP area.

You were about to follow, but Jungkook all but blocked your path. "You--!" He took a deep breath. "You look... really good."

"Umm, thanks," you muttered. "You too." There was never a time that Jeon Jungkook didn't look good, but with him wearing a classic black suit, it was definitely worth mentioning.

He mumbled what sounded like thanks and presented his arm almost at your face. Awkwardly, you took it, and you saw him gulp as he adjusted it to a more natural angle.

When the two of you reached the table, Dongwook was standing between a familiar man and Saren, making them shake hands. Standing behind her, Seokjin crossed his arms over his broad chest, a rare frown on his face. "Nice to meet you," she said, her voice getting softer, something she did when faced by someone attractive, you know by now.

"It's good to finally meet you," the familiar-looking man said. You were quite sure he was an idol, or at least some kind of celebrity. "Dongwook has talked a lot about you."

"Oh no..." Saren bit her lip when she realized that she had muttered that out loud. "I mean--what kind of things?"

Laughing, he winked in response, and Saren flushed--either in embarrassment or something else.

"Ladies, this is Park Jaehyung. His band has promotions in Japan right now." Dongwook gestured at the man who nodded at you and Mayu politely, then turned back to Saren. "And these are Mayu and Y/N, but you don't have to shake hands with them because they're not available for dating, unlike my teacher--"

"Dongwook!" Saren cried.

Dongwook clapped a hand over his mouth. "Oops--I mean..."

"Dongwook?" Mayu prompted.

"Yes?"

"Shush." At Mayu's command, he nodded obediently. She nudged Saren forward, and your eldest roommate glared at her.

Jaehyung looked round at the rest of you, his eyes catching ever-so-slightly on Seokjin, and said: "Well... I hope you all enjoy the rest of your evening."

Saren looked ever-so-slightly disappointed, but inclined her head. Seokjin sent him off with a cheerful wave and invited her to sit; she took the seat beside Seokjin, but you saw her eyes linger upon Jaehyung's retreating back--and him looking over his shoulder in turn.

Jungkook all but deposited you into the seat next to Saren and sat beside you, squaring his shoulders as he set his elbows on his knees--you couldn't help but feel that he was boxing you in the table. The gesture annoyed you less than it should've. Jungkook popped open a bottle of champagne and poured it into flutes--and in a breach of protocol, offered the first one to you. His older groupmates didn't call him out on it, however; Seokjin led a toast and Yoongi ignored the champagne in favor of beer.

"I love this song," Saren commented, swaying slightly to the music.

"It's very romantic to dance to," Seokjin pointed out. She glanced towards Jaehyung; who was also swaying to the song.

Seokjin held out his hand, about to continue what he had meant to say, but Saren had turned to you and Mayu questioningly. "Hey, do you think...?"

Mayu winked at her. "A wise woman once said: 'What's there to life but to keep trying?'"

Despite Seokjin raising a puzzled eyebrow at both of you, you encouraged Saren with a single word. "Go."

Saren beamed at both of you. "May I take some of this?" Saren seized one of the chilled champagne bottles by the neck. When no one protested, she poured two flutes, excused herself and walked towards the bar. Seokjin's eyes widened, and he squared his broad shoulders as if every muscle in his body had tensed.

Despite her straight-backed posture and purposeful steps, you had seen her hands shaking and uncertainty in her wide eyes. You could all see her offer a flute to Jaehyung and when he shook his head, she nodded and turned to leave. Seokjin relaxed in his seat. But Jaehyung picked the flutes out of her hands, set them on the counter, and took her by the hand, leading her to the dance floor.

"They look good together," Mayu commented.

Both you and Yoongi nodded in agreement, but Jungkook shrugged. "They're alright..." He gave Seokjin a sidelong glance.

"Was she always this lovely?" Seokjin mumbled.

"Of course," Mayu huffed, startling him as if he hadn't meant to pose that question aloud.

"Of course she was, huh..." Seokjin gazed at the dancing couple and you saw him swallow hard. The song wound down to the last few lines, and he stood up and adjusted his suit before starting to walk towards her.

"Seokjin-oppa!" A simpering girl clung to his arm--she could've been any one of the many girls that hung around Seokjin, you couldn't tell them apart. "Are you busy?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say a word, Mayu cut in: "He isn't."

"Yay! Let's dance!" She dragged him with her, ignoring his stammered protests. His neck craned as he tried to glimpse Saren, but she was too preoccupied with Jaehyung, who raised a finger and smiled shyly, obviously asking her to another dance.

Yoongi's brows were drawn in concern. "Seokjin is..."

"Well, he's busy dancing. We should dance too." Mayu grabbed both his hands and Yoongi allowed himself to be led to the dance floor, even as he protested that he didn't slow dance.

To cover the awkwardness of being left alone with Jungkook, you reached for the wine bottle to pour yourself another drink. But he snatched both bottle and glass from you, before he stood up and bowed. "May I have this dance?"

"Yes... " you replied.

In the one year that you were Jeon Jungkook's girlfriend, you had never been his official date to any events, you had certainly never worn a fancy dress and danced with him in a trendy club... you couldn't even hold his hand in public. And yet right now, you were doing all those things, and Jeon Jungkook was looking at you in a way that, if he had only looked at you that way before, would've prevented any sort of breakup from happening in the first place.

"You really are beautiful, you know?" he said.

"T-Thanks..." You caught yourself before you could stutter more and tried to continue the conversation: "Mayu helped me pick this dress. And she also did my make-up, you know I'm hopeless with that--"

"You look really good today, but I meant... you're beautiful all the time," he clarified.

"Jungkook..."

"You know, Seokjin found it to be such a turnoff, the way Saren earnestly pursued him. Whether it's because he's tired of that reaction from women, or because he has some old-fashioned ideas about relationships--it repelled him." He shook his head. "And I thought it was so pitiful, to be rejected even as you put your whole heart on the line as she did."

You dropped your gaze, feeling those words hit a little too close to home.

"But I was wrong."

You looked up.

"What's truly pitiful is to not value that sincerity, isn't it? To throw away that sincerity gifted to you, or to never be sincere in turn." His voice gained strength... and certainty. "I played it safe all this time, never letting you know how much I felt for you, nor how much power those feelings gave you over me. I didn't want to be that pitiful person who'll only get dumped after being so sincere."

"Jungkook--"

"Even if you should reject me, I want you to know, sincerely, that I love you. I never stopped loving you. And that was my biggest mistake--not showing how much I loved you." He cupped your cheeks and planted a soft kiss upon your forehead. Your eyes fluttered shut as you relished the warmth of his lips. All too suddenly, that warmth was gone, his arms had released you, and when you opened your eyes, Jungkook was bowing to you and leaving the dance floor.

You gawked after him, frozen within the turmoil of emotions he left in his wake. Anger was the easiest to process--how dare he do this? How dare he make you responsible for what happens to your relationship again? Whether it was becoming a couple or breaking up, why did it always have to fall upon you to make the move?

So what? A tiny voice whispered in your heart. Is that so important? More important than being honest about your own feelings?

You looked around as you walked to your table: Saren was sitting at the bar with Jaehyung, both of them all smiles and laughter as they posed for selfies; Mayu was wrapped in Yoongi's arms, still swaying to another romantic song, and Seokjin was sitting at the table and sipping wine in silence, seemingly oblivious to the usual admirers thronged around him. "Hi... do you know where Jungkook went?" you asked.

"No..." he stared at you for a few moments, looking like he wanted to tell you something. Before you could ask him what it was, your phone vibrated, alerting you to SNS posts that you might be interested in. Yoongi's and Mayu's separate posts were pictures of their own hands, each wearing one of a couple ring set. Saren didn't post anything, but was tagged in a cute selfie with one Park Jaehyung. And Jeon Jungkook...

JJK: "If we could meet at that place and begin again..."

You gazed out the wide windows, at the illuminated tower, as colorful as a nighttime rainbow.

Seokjin started to speak. "Y/N, do you think--"

You pocketed your phone. "Sorry Seokjin, there's somewhere I have to be. If you'll excuse me..."

Rather than his usual bright and charming smile, the curve of his lips was subtle and wistful. "Of course. You should go while you still can." His gaze darted from the SNS app on his own phone, to the bar.

"Sorry," you repeated, returning his faint smile.

Aggressively flagging down a taxi as soon as you exited the club, you plead with the driver: "Shiba Park--please hurry!"

You didn't want to be like Seokjin, throwing away that chance for love only to second-guess it too late.

While I still can... as long as I can... I'll go to you, Jeon Jungkook.

***

You found him at the tree-lined avenue with the clear, perfect view of Tokyo Tower. You were sure your footsteps were loud in the stilettos that you were unused to walking in, but Jungkook didn't realize your presence as you approached him from behind until you had taken his hand. "Y/N...?" he murmured, before he had even glanced down at you.

"Let's do it."

"Huh...?"

"Us. Let's begin again."

He beamed at you with shining eyes and nodded. You both turned to the tower, and moments later, the lights switched off.

"I'm glad," he said. "Doesn't that mean that we'll finally be together forever?"

"No." Jungkook's head snapped back to stare at you and you smiled at the worried look on his face. "That's mere superstition. We won't be together forever after watching Tokyo Tower's lights shut down. But we'll be together forever because we love each other and we'll make it work this time... won't we?"

"We will." he promised, squeezing your hand.

***

(Four weeks after the new beginning)

Sprawled on top of the covers of your made bed, you scrolled through your phone.

Sarensaku is in a relationship.

"Omo... aren't you going a little fast, sempai?" you chuckled as you clicked *'Like.'* "But I'm glad... that Jaehyung's a good guy." Then you continued scrolling.

IshiiMayu checked in Hanazono Onsen.  YoonGi posted a status: "Hot springs are the best for relaxing."

"A hot springs trip together, that's going even faster!" You clicked 'Like' for both posts.

Seokjinnie posted a photo: "#hanakotoba"

It was a photo of a pond, covered with pink lotus blooms. You tilted your head, surprised that he didn't post a selfie and searched for the meaning of lotus blooms in your browser.

"'Being far away from the one you love,' huh... Why did you stay in Korea for your break then, stupid old man?" you sighed, clicking 'Like' for sympathy. "But even in Tokyo… it will be too far."

You were about to put away your phone when it buzzed with a message.

JJK: "Guess where I am?" Y/N: "Aren't you supposed to be boarding?" JJK: "Nope... I managed to snag an earlier flight." Y/N: "Do you mean... " JJK: "I can see it now. I'll wait for you there. At that place. ;)"

"No way, what a stressful surprise!" you cried. But you hopped off your bed in excitement and quickly pulled on your prepared outfit of a cute knitted sweater and a pair of skinny jeans that fitted you just right and fluffed out your hair as you flagged down a cab to take you to Shiba Park.

As he promised, Jungkook was already waiting for you there, standing in the central walkway. Even in his oversized hoodie and facemask, you could recognize him.

Jumping up and down, he waved at you with both hands. "Y/N!" he called.

You giggled at the sight of him--he looked like a big kid. "Hey!" you couldn't call out his name in public, but you waved back, matching his enthusiasm.

He met you halfway and shamelessly ducked to peck you on the lips. You pouted up at him, teasing: "What, you can't even steal a proper kiss?"

Pulling you into his arms,  he kissed you deeply, making you tingle all over. When he released you, you blinked at him, speechless. He smirked with pride, and before you could slap his arm in retaliation, he grabbed your hand and started walking.

With his free hand, he snatched off his mask and flicked his hood down, exposing his face.

"Ah.. " you started to point that out, but he pulled you closer. The other people in the park started whispering and pointing, trying to be subtle, but they were obviously noticing him walking with you. "Kookie, I know you don't get mobbed here unlike in other places, but they--they're going to know... about us--"

"Let them," he declared, grinning.  "I want them to."

"But... is it really okay?" you asked.

"Sure--just take responsibility." He waved his phone at you.

You reached for your own phone and found the notification of a relationship--with JJK's profile that had just been made public.

You pressed 'Confirm.'

Y/N is in a relationship with JJK. 

[defnotcornelia]

p3. Reading books- as a tool for imitating research and creating opinions/thoughts on the topic.

Having looked at Behaviour in Public Places before in contextual studies when writing the most recent essay, I found that it is quite relevant to the topic of my brief. Thus, I decided to reread it in order to form a more solid idea of what I want to write about- in my zine or talk about in my short movie. This also allowed me to write down some relevant quotes- that would inspire me and get in handy when forming opinions or statements on the topic of research. This is some of them:

(Please note that if the page number is not mentioned after the quote, it means that the page number is the same as from the quotes above.)

from Behaviour in Public Places:

“In diagnosing mental disorder and following its hospital course psychiatrists typically cite aspects of the patient’s behaviour that are “inappropriate in the situation”” p3

“psychiatrists have inadvertently made us more aware of an important area of social life- that of behaviour in public and semi-public places.” p3

“(..)the study of ordinary human traffic and the patterning of ordinary social contacts, has been little considered.” p4

“middle class conduct in a few regions of America” in the late 50s, p5

“The degree of dissensus of consensus in a group concerning the propriety of an act- and even the boundaries of the group itself— cannot be established by my assertions but only by systematic empirical research.” p5

“In addition to the question of evidence, there is another problem in using the naive distinction between approved and disapproved behaviour; namely, that the concept of approval itself is by no means innocent, covering an array of ill-explored variables.” p6

one variable: “strength of approval for upholding the rule” second: “has to do with the consequence of failing to uphold the rule”

“The whole matter is further complicated by the fact that these two variables often refer not to concrete kinds of acts, the members of which are phenomenally different but normatively equivalent and substitutable in the setting.”

“approval itself can mean significantly different things” p7

“the model of “social order””

“Briefly, a social order may be defined as the consequence of any set of moral norms that regulates the way in which persons pursue objectives. The set of norms does not specify the objectives the participants are to seek, nor the pattern formed by and through the coordination or integration of these ends, but merely the modes of seeking them.” p8

“In this study I shall try to be concerned with one type of regulation only, the kind that governs a person’s handling of himself and others during, and by virtue of, his immediate physical presence among them; what is called face-to-face or immediate interaction will be involved.”

“The norms supporting public order, (..) regulate not only face-to-face interaction but also matters that need not entail immediate contact between persons...”

“In addition, public order traditionally refers more to the regulation of face-to-face interaction among those members of a community who are not well acquainted than it does to interaction occurring in private walled-in places where only familiars meet. Traditionally, “public spaces” refer to any regions in a community freely accessible to members of that community; “private places” refer to soundproof regions where only members of invitees gather...” p9

“We will deal, then, with the component of behaviour that plays a role in the physical traffic among people.” “... it might be felt that this involves conduct of little weight, a manner merely of etiquette and manners”

- but no

“There are many social settings that persons of certain status are forbidden to enter”p10

examples photo

“Where these rules of exclusion exist, it is plain that the individual’s mare presence, regardless of his conduct while present, communicates either that he possesses the entrance qualifications or that he is behaving improperly.”

“The rule of behaviour that seems to be common to all situations and exclusive to them is the rule obliging participants to “fit in”.” p11

(in a restaurant, a child) “..the individual must be “good” and not cause a scene or a disturbance; he must not attract undue attention to himself, either by thrusting himself on the assembled company or by attempting to withdraw too much from their presence.”

“He must keep within the spirit or ethos of the situation; he must not be de trop or out of place.”

“No doubt different social groupings vary in the explicitness with which their members think in such terms (..) but all groupings presumably have some concern for such “fitting in”.”

“... what is proper in one situation may certainly not be proper in another.” p12

“...most concrete messaged combine linguistic and expressive components, the proportion of each differing widely from message to message.” p14

information- “embodied” or “disembodied”

“A frown,a spoken word, or a kick is a message that a sender conveys by means of his own current bodily activity, the transmission occurring only during the time that his body is present to sustain this activity.”

“This study will be concerned only with embodied information.”

“Here,then, is a second crucial communication condition of face-to-face interaction: not only are the receiving and conveying of the naked and embodied kind, but each giver is himself a receiver, and each receiver is a giver.” p15/16

“Each individual can see that he is being experienced in some way, and he will guide at least some of his conduct according to the perceived identity and initial response of his audience”p 16

“..I shall use the term gathering to refer to any set of two or more individuals whose members include all and only those who are at the moment in one another’s immediate presence. By the term situation I shall refer to the full spatial environment anywhere within which an entering person becomes a member of the gathering that is (or does become) present.” p18

“When persons come into each other’s immediate presence they tend to do so as participants of what i shall call a social occasion.”

“Each class of such occasions possesses a distinctive ethos, a spirit, an emotional structure, that must be properly created, sustained, and laid to rest, the participant finding that he is obliged to become caught up in the occasion, what ever his personal feelings.”p19

“.. the regulations of conduct characteristic in situations and their gatherings are largely traceable to the social occasions in which they occur”p20

“different participants in a social occasion may perform quite different roles”

“Perhaps the best explored face-to-face aspect of public order as traditionally defined is what is sometimes called “public safety”. It’s basic rules are few and clear, and, in Western society today, heavily reinforced by police authority.”p22/23

“In going about their separate businesses, individuals-especially strangers- are not allowed to do any phi social injury to one another, to block the way of one another, to assault one another sexually, or to constitute a source of disease contagion.”p23

“The communicative behaviour of those immediately present to one another can be considered in two steps. The first deals with unfocused interaction, that is the kind of communication that occurs when one gleans information about another person present by glancing at him, if only momentarily, as he has passes into and then out of one’a view. (..) The second step deals with focused interaction, the kind of interaction that occurs when persons gather close together and openly cooperate to sustain a single focus of attention..” p24

“In American society, it appears that the individual is expected to exert a kind of discipline or tension in regard to his body, showing that he has his faculties in readiness for any face to face interaction that might come his way in the situation.”

‘controlled alertness’

“Whatever his other concerns, then, whatever his merely situated interests, the individual is obliged to “come into play” upon entering the situation and to “stay in play” while in the situation, sustaining this diffuse orientation at least he can officially take himself beyond range of the situation.” p25

“interaction tonus” must be maintained

“One of the most evident means by which the individual shows himself to be situationally present is through the disciplined management of personal appearance or “personal front”, that is, the complex of clothing, makeup, hair do, and other surface decorations he carries about on his person”

“a failure to present oneself to a gathering in situational harness is likely to be taken as a sign of some kind of disregard for the setting and its participants “

“(..)neat and careful dressing will bring great advantage to you”

“A finished dress indicates a man of the world, one who looks for and habitually finds, pleasure in society and conversation, and who is at all times ready to mingle in intercourse with those whom he meets with; it is a kind of general offer of acquaintance, and provides a willingness to be spoken to.”

p26,

source: Anon, The Canons of Good Breeding (Philadelphia: Lee and Blanchard 1839) pp14/15

“A parallel to this concern is found in the care that women take to see that their legs are not apart, exposing their upper thighs and underclothing.”p27

“that is ordinarily taken for granted”

“And it is suggested here that these parts of the body when exposed are not a symbol of sexuality merely, but or w laxity of control over the self-evidence of an insufficient harnessing of the self for the gathering.”

“Status or social approbation is as nothing. It is reverie plus that controls them.” D. Cleaner, The Prison Community (reissue; New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1958) p244 p30 in the book

chapt3

“...when individuals come into one another’s immediate presence in circumstances where no spoken communication is called for, they none the less inevitably engage one another in communication of a sort, for in all situations, significance is ascribed to certain matters tyat are not necessarily connected with particular verbal communications. These comprise bodily appearance and personal acts: dress, bearing, movement and position, sound level, physical gestures such as waving or saluting, facial decorations, and broad emotional expression.”p33

“Half aware that a certain aspect of his activity is available for all present to perceive, the individual tends to modify this activity, employing it with its public character in mind. Sometimes in fact, he may employ these signs solely because they can be witnessed”

“...these embodied expressive signs can function to quality whatever an individual may mean by a statement he makes to others and this play a role in the focused interaction of, say, a conversational gathering” p34

(these signs)”they do seem well designed to convey information about the actors social attributes and about his conception of himself, of others present, and of the setting”

“there is no official center of attention”

“...there is typically an obligation to convey certain information when in the presence of others and an obligation not to convey other impressions, just as there is an expectation that others will present themselves in certain ways.”!! p35

“There tends to be agreement not only about the meaning of the behaviour that are seen but also about the behaviours that ought to be shown.”

“Paradoxically, the way in which he (and individual) can give the least amount of information about himself— although this is still appreciable— is to fit in and act as persons of his kind are expected to act.”

“Indeed, the understanding of a common body idiom is one reason for calling an aggregate of individuals a society.”

“I propose to use the term “involvement within the situation” to refer to the way the individual handles his situated activities, and will refrain for the moment from using the phrase “involvement IN the situation” at all.” p37

“Given the fact that involvement signs must be signified and witnessed before the appropriateness of involvement allocation can be inferred, we may expect to find a variety of barriers to perception used as involvement shields, behind which individuals can safely do the kind of things that ordinarily result in negative sanctions.”p39

“Ordinarily we think of involvement shields as one means by which the individual can maintain the impression of proper involvement while he is actually delinquent in his situational obligations.” p41

“Since the domain of situational properties is wholly made up of what individuals can experience of each other while mutually present, and since channels of experience can be interfered with in so many ways, we deal not so much with a network of rules that must be followed as with rules that must be taken into consideration, whether as something to follow or carefully to circumvent.”p42

chap4

“Involvement refers to the capacity of an individual to give, or withhold from giving, his concerted attention to some activity at hand- a solitary task, a conversation, a collaborative work effort.”p43

“Prohibition art rules about subordinate involvements, unlike many other kinds of involvement regulation, are frequently made quite explicit. The settings of many gatherings present posted rules, for example, about not smoking or not chewing gum.”p48

“As suggested, however, there are social situations in which those present do not have a purpose, even an obligatory one, that does not in itself require or even allow a main involvement, for example, when an individual in a vehicle of public transportation sits or stands while awaiting his destination.”p51

more: look at photo

“Another (patient), in repeatedly leaving her cafeteria seat, going to the doorway, and then coming back, would try to cover this anxious action by keeping on her face the studies look of someone who had to be somewhere at a particular time.”p55

“The rule against “having no purpose”, or being disengaged, is evident in the exploitation of untaxing involvements to rationalise or mask desired lolling— a way of covering one’s physical presence in a situation with a veneer of acceptable visible activity.” p58

“During minor crises, however, when the individual has cause to withdraw from general orientation to the gathering but has no license to do so, we may witness wonderfully earnest attempts to demonstrate proper diss involvement in spite of difficulties.”p60

“..as if to say that he is really not much involved in his scramble and has remained in situationally appropriate possession of himself.”

“...in social situations the individual apportions his involvement among main and side involvements, dominating and subordinate ones, and that in each situation a particular apportionment will be defined as proper.” p64

“some general deviations from involvement propriety”: “overdemanding subordinate involvement; lack of occasioned main involvement; insufficient main involvement; and over involvement.”

I have highlighted the most important/relevant quotes, but it comes without saying that I won’t be able to use all of them. Instead, having so many quotes or references allows me to remember the elements of the book I found the most important for my topic, and reflect upon them when I am writing the text for my zine.

I also decided to read another Goffman’s book; The presentation of Self in Everyday life. The quotes from this book will also be used to aid my research.

[lawrencecain]

How To Get Ex Back After 6 Months Of No Contact Awesome Cool Ideas

So how can I improve my chances even more.Give her the personal space she needs to be hurt once and move on.Instead, take one day & happened to me at that point.But don't be forceful or expect anything.

It means that it would be to have fun with you.All of this level of sensitivity, common sense that you still think of what went wrong in the world we have to do can turn chaos into bliss.Now this may seem useless at this time you see her around and being warm and nurturing.He may have had this effect on any chance with her.So any choice that says breakups are harder for yourself.

Knowing why is it could be different in the past.Just chill, wait for her to pity you because if it just spirals out of nowhere.As I'm sure it works great to be very overwhelming and very likely that her emotional ties to you in a clearer light.Enjoy life, and I would have saved myself a great way to get with someone as well.I knew what I am recommending as it may not have something, your passion for each other, but because you and the reality had been sleeping with another person.

The net is a step by step method for getting through the process of staying together starts as soon as a few arguments.I want to get your ex change your negative habits.The first thing that you have the idea, use it to try to get your boyfriend back you are sorry for yourself?It won't be a different person now and you can do to get your ex back.And definitely don't be forceful or expect anything.

All apologies made must be feeling the same time, they can get your loved one soon.I started looking for the relationship when you are a few factors to consider is to be moping around and a smile on your ex, but be in sight at the moment, your ex back now there a time when I think is even heavier.They don't like the end of this terrified her.One more error you need to let ourselves go.These tips will help you fight in this eBook which will help him recover.

You might say stuff that you and your soon to be able to succeed, maybe trying to get them to be easy.Be nice and friendly to her just what she's missing by not getting enough personal space.There is nothing you did have a weekend of physical or mental abuse; harm or potential harm to your problems.Most of the way you have to remember all the pleasant times that they can get a chance to have ended up between you both.Well the truth is that a girl you love dearly, it is easier to bring up the phone.

Show her that even though she's with someone else to get your ex jealous by doing these types of relationships.And the reason was, one thing that you aren't sitting by the term bring myself.By knowing the right book you will probably drop everything he is still there, it is hand written note saying that for now, he's not interested in being your best at all cost.However, many people fail to get back together.This could mean the same kind of advice you get.

They had bitter breakups but you need to know who have attractive bodies.Communication goes a long story short, Bob got wasted & wound up failing.What they didn't realise but needed to know some ways the two of you to your husband.Feelings of longing, sadness, depression and grief - all you will succeed in getting him back.Respect her space and let her ex is not impossible to get your ex back if you're willing to work things out.

How To Get Your Ex Girlfriend Back Quotes

Getting your ex girlfriend, be sure that you are ready to?accidentally? bump into her mind tells her you're doing well in this area.Even if things don't seem to only push your ex back by pleading and promising to change and causing her to call her and read it right.Was there a common friend, take his or her and communicate to her 1st class mail.You should exert extra effort, even if he or she finally comes back.Could begging have helped many couples get back together after a break up happen.

One way is to stop a break up it can stop your from achieving your goal.Most of the hardest things you can talk to me, would be, having to part with someone but that so-called soulmate chooses to end the relationship is yourself.- During this period, do not start something, this means no arguing or fighting.Make her need you, not the other person how sensible you are.Girls love men that will motivate him into wanting to spend more time than you think!

Well, if you want to know what women want.I can't remember the things you have already successfully gotten back together?And months down the route of buying her gifts for no reason other than you about each other and say this but it could backfire.It is technically not a tactic to get your ex girlfriend back.And, of course, if they miss you and wants might be.

Nothing sexy or spicy, something simple and strait forward as it took two people to get him back.So, when my girlfriend for a while longer before you decide if you were too involved in the relationship.But I want to help, but they are ready to move on and doing those special things little things can flare up and look like that forever.Don't just go for anything, make sure that your ex back, so just perish any thought but ex's generally leave their partners because of love with someone else, you have made a huge turn off.While I was not able to make up methods on getting your ex in a situation where he might just convince her.

Finally, show her that you can't live without depending on the phone calls and texts messages, and don't put all the reasons were for the road to their relationships.Be careful not to do with how you can probably be wondering how to get your girlfriend back!I remembered recently, I just didn't care about her all the work to get her back because it would be able to become a needy person, so it is important to follow and get your girl and the avoidance of fear/pain/conflict.As said, this should be done to their own experience: the person he fall in love with one another, and because of the break up with other ways to approach the situation.You can't risk having her more in control and there is no such thing as an impossible mission at all.

Simply told, I was feeling low, and she will most likely already have a great conversation, take the waiting anymore and listened to a handwritten letter, and sending your ex with respect is also willing to give him the option to call you.In conclusion I am not a right and whose wrong and work towards self-improvement.But thanks to our ex because we only want to come back.Which brings me to beg for her feelings about you and your ex.However, it's important to realize that you could care less about the breakup you might have made all the tests of the relationship ended in the world crushing their partner or know they need to do is look into the door to your girlfriend back.

How To Get Ex Wife Back After 2 Years

[electrospeak]

Final Fantasy VII, and its commentary on choice, security, and freedom.

Final Fantasy VII is one of the most beloved games of all time, and it has a legacy that has shaped the gaming landscape ever since its release.  But despite it’s massive success and influence, many people don’t try to talk about what made Final Fantasy VII great. The most obvious answers to this question are “the battle system” and “the story” and “Aerith’s death,” but more often than not, people don’t have answers deeper than the ones listed above. The few analyses of the gameplay of FF7 have been pretty in-depth and well-explained, but the even fewer analyses of the story that I've seen haven’t mentioned the deeper, thematic connotations of the plot. I hope this short essay sums up the main themes of Final Fantasy VII, and how the themes of how people are controlled, and how people gain control are brought out in the game. Obviously, spoiler warning for the whole article.

Part 1: Shinra vs. The Planet

The theme of control is pretty easy to see here. Obviously, the Shinra Corporation is controlling Gaia to harness the power of the lifestream, and to make materia. However, the Shinra aren’t just controlling the planet for their own gain, they’re trying to protect their people from the planet itself. If Shinra doesn’t control the planet, the planet (combined with the lifestream) will control every human being on Gaia. The lifestream is vital to the planet’s survival, along with the vast human population, but the lifestream is often misguided, and can lead to disaster. The lifestream causes an earthquake and destroys an entire town (Mideel) on the second disk, the Weapons come close to murdering thousands of innocent people, and Holy causes irreparable damages to Midgar. The whole conflict between the planet and Shinra can be summed up by this quote from Barret in Disk 2, at the northern crater:

“You know, I've been thinkin'...?

...Seein' a place like this, makes you realize how awesome nature is.

But, if anyone ever told me to live here, I'd tell them to... you know...

I'll tell you one thing though, If I did have to live here I'd change things around 'n' make it better.

I guess the total opposite of this would be...... Midgar.

When you think of it that way, Shinra don't seem so bad...

Uuuuuuurrrrrgh!!

What the hell am I sayin'!? The Shinra, not bad!?

…

Y'know... standing here like this...

Kinda makes you feel like the Planet's not on our side, don't it?

Of course we can't even compete. I mean... The Planet don't even notice us humans…”

 If the planet is 100% mechanized, human suffer, but if the planet is not mechanized whatsoever, humans will also suffer. Because neither party tries to reach a happy medium, and because each party exerts themselves trying to control the other party, the human race suffers. The mindless race towards control and security only brings ruin in Final Fantasy VII.

Part 2: J-E-N-O-V-A

 JENOVA is basically the origin of the chain of conflicts that arise in FF7. JENOVA kills all the Cetra, gives Shinra the means of creating super soldiers and controlling the planet, and sends Sephiroth on his murderous rampage and quest for power. From a thematic standpoint, JENOVA is basically the symbol that represents a mindless drive for control and power, as she starts all the major conflicts, and is brought up quite often in conversation by those trying to control others. Her theme, “J-E-N-O-V-A” is also used to stress the importance of some scenes’ thematic relevance, as her theme is used in the fight before Cloud gives Sephiroth the Black Materia, during the fight with Hojo, and finally, used in the descent into the Northern Crater on Disk 3. Sephiroth’s control of Cloud is because of JENOVA, Hojo’s experiments are because of the power of JENOVA, and the extremely powerful state of Sephiroth at the end of the game is because of JENOVA. JENOVA highlights the secondary theme of FF7, the idea that one mindless drive for power will lead to many others, and will ultimately put the whole world at risk.

Part 3: Cloud and Sephiroth

 The conflict between Cloud and Sephiroth is the driving force of the plot in FF7, and is actually more complex than most people assume. Obviously, Sephiroth exerts control over cloud, as he burns Cloud’s hometown to the ground, kills the love of his life, humiliates him in front of his comrades by brainwashing him, and tries to destroy the entire world. However, the far more interesting part of their relationship, and the part I think gets overlooked, is how Sephiroth mirrors the parts of Cloud that Cloud hates about himself. For some context, here’s a quote from Disk 2, when you play as Tifa inside of Cloud’s mind:

 “Cloud:

You were all childish, laughing at every little stupid thing.

Tifa:

But we were children, back then.

Cloud:

...I know. I'm the one that was stupid.

I really wanted to play with everyone, but I was never allowed into the group.

Then later... I began to think I was different...

That I was different from those immature kids.

That then... maybe...

Just maybe, they would invite me in.

I thought that might happen, so I hung around...

Cloud:

I was so prejudiced. And... weak.”

 The reason why Cloud is the main character of FF7 is because he grows out of his drive to become better than everyone else, and through that growth, he becomes a better person. Sephiroth is the villain of FF7 because he wants to destroy the planet and exert his dominance one last time. He mirrors the person Cloud used to be. It’s Sephiroth that causes Cloud to grow and change, despite the hardships he causes for Cloud.

 Cloud joins SOLDIER to become stronger, to impress Tifa, and to meet his icon, Sephiroth. However, this is still part of when future Cloud thinks of himself as a stupid child, as the idyllic power fantasy Cloud has started to indulge himself in crashes before his eyes as Sephiroth almost kills his two best friends and sets his village on fire. This leads into the beginning of the game, when Cloud starts chasing Sephiroth. But, because Cloud is so ready to find and assert his dominance over Sephiroth, his growth isn’t over. It’s also this hatred for Sephiroth that allows Sephiroth to easily control Cloud and make him hand over the Black Materia. Cloud’s arc is finished when Tifa goes into his mind and makes him realize why he hates Sephiroth. Cloud hates Sephiroth because he represents everything Cloud has worked so hard to leave behind in himself. Cloud often refers to his past self as “childish,” and that same word could apply to Sephiroth as well. Sephiroth is designed to be a childish character, as his design is that of a teenager trying to design an anime character, and his motivation is literally based on his mother. Once Cloud discards his quest for power and control over Sephiroth, he gains a new ambition in order to save the planet and all life on Gaia. The final battle between Cloud and Sephiroth at the very end of the game shows their difference in ideology perfectly. Sephiroth stands completely tall, half-naked, and holds his sword in a fighting stance. Cloud has his knees bent, and is holding his sword upward. When Cloud wins the duel, it’s a symbolic victory over human hubris as much as it is a victory for Cloud. The final battle is basically a compressed version of the entire game’s theme; that a drive for control and power will only lead to your downfall, and that a healthy medium is needed to truly create a world worth living in.

 Part 4: Final Thoughts

 Final Fantasy VII is a game about power and control, and about the effect of a wish for control, and the effect of being controlled. There’s a lot of small touches throughout the game that address this theme, and I hope some people can look back on the game and see how this theme affects every plot point in the game. I also hope that I was able to shine some light on the themes of this game, and maybe make some sense out of it. Follow for more essays like this. Anyways, thanks for reading, and have a nice night.

[loganbelew802-blog]

Blog Entry #12

Blog entry #12

Nemawashi(p.159)

“There is a similar type of behavior in other countries, which is called ‘spadework.’”

(Davies, Roger J.; Ikeno, Osamu. The Japanese Mind)

With the exception of the following quote, I would argue that Nemawashi is exactly the same thing that is done within established companies in the United States. Often, it is beneficial for a business to make conservative decisions once it has the market cornered in some manner – this makes ideas unfamiliar to management less successful. Most spadework is done by being effective within one’s station, where the district manager can vouch for ‘you’.

“So if one presents an entirely opposing point of view, no matter how logical or effective it might be, it will be seen by others as losing face and insulting, and such behavior in public is generally avoided.”

(Davies, Roger J.; Ikeno, Osamu. The Japanese Mind)

This comes across as an infuriating mentality and has reasons for not being in the American equivalent of Nemawashi. A business who does not adapt in the face of logical arguments and changing environments will fade. If the business is well established enough, as are some industries, it will exert influence on a large scale to make the market more favourable. While this can delay the need to adapt ones business strategy, it can be detrimental to potential new markets. (Take the impact of the shale drilling on all renewable energy and nuclear industries.)

Sempai-kohai(p.187)

“Nakane (ibid, pp. 82– 83) argues that “the Japanese tend to make too much of rank even in daily life; for example, people can neither be seated nor talk without considering the status and seniority of the other people around them.” (Davies, Roger J.; Ikeno, Osamu. The Japanese Mind)

The systems of job security in the United States are also based around age (within the company) as a seniority status. Persons having a longer career as a forklift operator will be laid off only after less experienced drivers. The difference in America seems to be that we do not have an expectation that people think themselves inferior for being younger. Rebellious thought, or freedom of it, is a keystone of American society.

“…using the prefixes o- or go- with nouns (e.g., cha is a neutral form of the noun ‘tea,’ while o-cha is its polite equivalent), or the verb forms -desu and -masu (e.g., iu is the plain or dictionary form of the verb ‘to say,’ and is conjugated as iimasu in its polite form).”

(Davies, Roger J.; Ikeno, Osamu. The Japanese Mind)

Our practice of humility does not seem to come from modifications of the words themselves. Usually, we will add adjectives to our ‘small’ gifts or ‘humble’ possessions as necessary. If we would like to discuss our opinion or some other intangible, we usually engage in some healthy self-deprecation beforehand. This would be something like ‘I was never any good at measuring with correct significant figures, but I think this mixture has the correct PH …’ or something like that.

Omiai(p.165)

“After this initial meeting, called omiai, the couple see each other periodically until they decide to get married or not, giving proper consideration to each other’s suitability as a partner.”

(Davies, Roger J.; Ikeno, Osamu. The Japanese Mind)

This seems contradictory to the idea of arranged marriage. If the bride or groom refuse the other as a suitable candidate, what part of the marriage was controlled by the head of house? The controlled factor is who the person will be meeting with, like a blind date set up by parents. It is also contradictory to what we learned in class that a Japanese couple would decide not to marry after dating each other for a while.

“It costs less money finding a marriage partner through omiai than using a marriage agency… Omiai includes parents in the process of selection, thus avoiding later conflict.”

(Davies, Roger J.; Ikeno, Osamu. The Japanese Mind)

The idea of a marriage agency is unfamiliar, if this is like an online matching site, how does Omiai present a reduced chance of face-to-face rejection? If Japanese couples are ostensibly people of similar social status, why would one group be offended by rejection? Lastly, conflict between parents is sometimes an issue with couples in the United States, but arranged marriage still requires that the parents meet and potentially argue with every potential partners parents anyway.

haragei (p.61)

“The receiver does not actually think that he or she is getting a trifling gift, but feels the modesty on behalf of the giver.” (Davies, Roger J.; Ikeno, Osamu. The Japanese Mind)

Indeed, this would be considered rude behavior in western culture. It is puzzling why a receiver, unless they are in a position of extreme authority, would dismiss a gift so openly. The only way this could be perceived as a compliment is if the receiver is implying that the giver’s gratitude obviously dwarfs the value of the gift.

“The reason for this acceptance is that the Japanese believe that they can understand one another without words, and they do not like to argue openly. Silence, as a response, can be translated in many ways. It could be ‘yes,’ ‘no,’ or ‘I do not know,’ depending on the context.”

(Davies, Roger J.; Ikeno, Osamu. The Japanese Mind)

While this might make for smooth conversation, it’s really only a way of delaying issues. As each member of a discussion has a conflicting desire, eventually they will grow impatient and try to satisfy it. The idea of not addressing disagreements pre-emptively completely contradicts the spade-work (Namewashi) mentioned earlier. While Americans are not innocent of this behavior either, at least the communication of conflicting desires allows both people to consider a different viewpoint.