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canyouhearthelight · 2 months

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Nihilus Rex, Ch. 30: Meet the Andovers

Does this read like a fluffy chapter? Absolutely, especially after the previous chapter. However, this is absolutely essential to the plot, as we get to meet Nils' parents - more specifically his mother.

That being said, the side gag going on in this one may read like one of the sillier chapters of "The Miys", but I swear it was entirely @baelpenrose's doing.

Mama's hooked on Mary Kay

Brother's hooked on Mary Jane

And Daddy's hooked on Mary two doors down

Mary, Mary quite contrary

We get bored, so we get married

Just like dust, we settle in this town

On this broken merry go 'round

Kasey Musgraves, “Merry go round”

Lash

I fidgeted with my hair before inwardly cursing myself and forcing my hands to my side. “You promise your mother isn’t as bad as Dr. Andover?” I asked for what had to have been the thousandth time. Nils meeting Mama and Baba had been spontaneous, something I had been delaying more for my sake than his. But I knew almost nothing about his parents beyond the fact that their relationship was rough on a good day.

“My mother’s worst sin is that she’s a bit oblivious to how people without money tend to live - despite our church spanning pretty much every economic class in the city. She did, however, take your community’s part in the class action lawsuit against the city, or her firm did, and last I checked, they’re winning. She’s happy to see me putting myself out there again. You two will actually get along great.” I was still distracted from how my meeting with the Parsons had gone. “Oh, and uh. Quick note. My father wasn’t…happy at all with our little stunt with the media originally, but now he’s had time to think about it and he loves you. And the fact that we’re dating. Like actually. Just not for the reasons you’d want him to.”

So, the rich lady is the nice kind, and the holier-than-thou doctor liked me. I couldn’t actually figure out which was worse, but all in all they could hate me for a plethora of reasons, so I was taking what I could get. “And we’re having dinner with them? Please tell me it’s something I’m going to recognize.”

“Anything you grew up eating, they wouldn’t recognize. And to be so honest, if I grew up eating it, it’s probably too flavorless for your culture to grant it status as “food,” regardless of official classification. Things you and I have eaten together - actually remember that ritzy Mediterranean fusion place with the Ethiopian and Turkish sections on the menu as well as the southern European countries? The one I took you to a few months ago? That’s where we’re going.” Nils’ voice had shifted all at once from apologetic to confident, as though he knew that at least that, I’d actually like.

My mouth did start watering a bit. “The place with the bad spanakopita and the amazing dolmades?”

“Because where better to take a girl to meet your parents than the sight of your first date. That one. Yes.” He answered with a cocky grin.

“I can face almost anything as long as I can eat,” I nodded, feeling more confident as I teased as our Uber slowed to a stop. “I’ll even use a fork, just for them.”

“Ah, yes, the table manners of the lower classes, a thing that has been of concern more recently than the long 19th century, that is definitely. What I was concerned about.” He offered me his arm. “Shall we?”

I took the arm, and brushed my hair over my shoulder one last time. “Let’s…. I hate to say get this over with, but our history of meeting each other’s parents isn’t the best. And that’s considering that my family liked you before you were a hero.”

“My meeting with your parents was going perfectly well before an unpredictable event caused by outside factors with whom we have settled accounts.” Nils spoke in a sarcastic, almost parodical voice that would have been funny if applied to anything else. “No, though. You’re right. If it makes you feel any better, we’re the only terrorists at tonights’ venue. No, uh…my parents like you. My mom for good reasons, my dad for bad ones. Not anything creepy,” he said quickly, “More…deeply self-serving.”

I tugged his arm. “Okay, let’s go before I chicken out and make up a cold or something.”

“Oh, I never even considered ‘feign sudden illness’ when your parents were about to show up.” Nils led me into the restaurant, and when we made our entrance at a restaurant for wealthy people, fairly dressed up, we turned heads walking in. He whispered, “Take bets - do we look good, or are we just getting looks for being local heroes?” He spotted his parents table and led me towards it, pulling out a chair for me and seating me before taking his own seat.

His mother looked at me, and gave me a reassuring smile.

“So,” Nils said, almost breathless. “Mom, Father, this is my girlfriend, Lash Botelho. I’m glad you’re finally meeting her formally. Lash, this is Dr. Michael Andover, you met him at the hospital, and this is Katherine Andover, attorney-at-law. Lash is a student of business and computer science, with a minor in graphic design - and she’s an excellent artist on a personal level. We’ve done a bunch of projects together.”

“So you guys met through school,” his mother seemed interested. “And Lash - business, computer science, and graphic design? That’s quite a lot. Heavy course load. I thought Nils was putting on a lot when he was doing computer science, political science, and history at the same time, but if I remember right your course load is even heavier.”

“It helps that I already do a lot of work with nonprofits,” I admitted. “So the computer science and graphic design were areas I already had a solid foundation in. The business courses are the ones where I’m learning the most new information.”

“Nils says the same thing about poli-sci and computer science - lot of activist work. Doesn’t make it less impressive that you can balance all that with working outside school as well.” She said, quietly.

Nils’ father broke into the conversation. “You work with nonprofits,” he said, suddenly much more interested. “Which ones?”

Nils’ eyes got sharp. “Mostly ones that help poor people access resources they need.”

I saw an opportunity and leapt in with both feet. “Right now, I do a lot with clean water initiatives, to help minimize exposure to insect- and waterborne illnesses. West Nile, Zika, even e.coli. Things that are easy to prevent but devastating if you can’t afford treatment.”

I saw wheels turning in his father’s head. “Any particular foundations I should look at? Nils is always vetting my charity donations for me, and that sounds like a worthy one.”

“I actually just took on a contract for one that has developed a straw that filters any water that is fifty-percent or less contaminants into potable water, without a need to boil it. I’ll find the name and have him pass it on to you. The proof of concept is just incredible.”

He grunted, with a tone that sounded like he was impressed against his will, and Nils looked back and forth between us, clearly nervous.

Mrs. Andover was back to talking to me. “So, what do you two work on together?”

Nils glanced at his parents. “Guys, you know, this is a lot less… ‘parents meeting my girlfriend’ than I thought it was going to be. Honestly you’re talking like you’re deciding whether or not to invest in a startup.”

Mrs. Andover started laughing. “Well, Nils, honestly, you tell us basically nothing about this girl. All I know about her is that she’s beautiful, she’s clearly won you over, you two work together, she’s clearly brilliant based on what she’s studying and keeping up with, and now that she does work with some pretty impressive nonprofits. I’m trying to get to know her, and I figure asking about work is less likely to be too invasive.”

Dr. Andover shrugged. “We also know her father works at the hospital. And that both her parents got hurt in the…”

Mrs. Andover glowered at him. “Wait, both of them? You didn’t…Nils, you didn’t tell me both her parents were hurt, and I suppose my husband couldn’t have for HIPPA reasons. Lash, how are your parents doing? I’m so sorry, I should have led with that.”

Grateful for something a little less formal, I relaxed. “Baba - my father - is home and doing much better than expected. He lost his leg, but is very determined to learn to use the prosthesis. His physical therapist actually threatened to take it away because he rubbed blisters from pushing himself too hard.” I gave a small laugh. “It’s good to see, though. And Mama came home two days ago… she is still on breathing treatments, but off of twenty-four-seven oxygen - she had smoke inhalation damage. She was very upset she still cannot shout at Baba when he is being stubborn, but my sister found an airhorn from somewhere and no one has had peace since.” I stopped for a drink of water and noticed all eyes on me. My face flushed and I covered my mouth. “Oh my gosh, I was rambling, I’m so sorry.”

Nils grabbed my hand. “Don’t apologize, I love you.” He blinked. “When you talk about your family, I mean.”

Mrs. Andover was watching us, oblivious to me trying to process that Nils had just said that, and she started chuckling, abruptly. “I can’t say airhorn is the method I’d have gone with, but…it’s good to know that men are stubborn like that across race, culture, creed, or birth.” Her voice took on the slight timbre of an old poem near the end.

Nils blinked. “Did. Did you just quote Rudyard Kipling at my Indian-American girlfriend?”

“Pakistani-Indian,” I corrected absently. “And yes, but it’s still very true. You’re just as stubborn as Baba, you just had more appropriate clothing on.”

His mother blushed, his father didn’t seem to recognize why what his wife had done might have been a faux pas, and I forged ahead to keep things from going south as Dr. Andover changed the subject. “Have either of you eaten here before? It’s a bit upscale from the places Nils prefers, normally.”

Nils glowered. “I took her here for the first date.”

Mrs. Andover smiled. “Oh, very nice.” The waiter came by and took our orders, refilling the glasses with water. “This place is really spicy, especially the Ethiopian side of the menu.”

Then his father asked a question, and Nils glared at him with absolute loathing. “So, Lash, you and Nils made quite the effective television appearance. You’re already doing a lot in public service, do you have any designs in a career there?”

Nils squeezed my knee under the table, but this was the one question I had been bracing myself for, thankfully. “Well, my goal is to set up a business that focuses on boosting the visibility of nonprofits, while contributing a significant portion of our revenue into areas where it can create the biggest impact: schools, literacy programs, health education, things like that. Try to shore up the foundations where normal budgets may not be able to.” And here’s hoping Nils doesn’t die trying not to laugh at that answer.

“Hm.” Mrs. Andover glowered at her husband as he continued, this was clearly an argument they’d had before, “And those are all worthy goals, but going directly into politics with your education and Nils’, together, you could directly impact all of those, and their budgets, far more direct power with what you can do, if you’re willing to get into the system together and change it.”

I shook my head firmly. “I understand where you are coming from, Dr. Andover, but I’m sure it surprises nobody here that I very much disagree. Public office is far more restrictive than independent enterprise, foremost - I would have to balance special interests with what would be considered ‘pet projects’, whereas through my own business I can connect the charities with who needs them the most, while ensuring the charities are as visible as possible to maximize their operating budgets. And besides, Nils doesn’t strike me as someone who would thrive in public office.” I turned to him and visibly squeezed his hand. “No offense.”

“None taken. My father has rarely, if ever, liked the idea of me going into policy rather than running for office, despite the fact that policy experts maintain far more freedom to operate in personal lives while having more influence than politicians - just much less prestige. Honestly I don’t know what led people to believe I’d be good at public office. I gave one very smooth speech on TV.” He took on that slightly mocking tone that I abruptly realized must have been from a lifetime of practice. “Which, to be fair, does seem like the majority of what voters expect. And Father - never try to push my girlfriend into your side of this argument again. I know the only reason you tried to do this is because you thought she’d help me with demographics I’d otherwise struggle with - nice code for ‘people of color that white boy extraordinaire Nils Andover can’t exactly relate to’ by the way.”

I let the silence that followed hang for a moment while the waiter set down our food, before giving Mrs. Andover an openly curious look. “Don’t worry, babe. I am sure your mother strongly agrees.” When she looked surprised, I casually gestured with my water. “After all, Mrs. Andover, you’re a non-name partner in a law firm prestigious enough to represent a class action lawsuit against not just the city, but the police, and yet I’ve never seen you run for office. Surely with that kind of acumen, you would be a shoo-in for the public defender’s office, or the DA. All the way up to Attorney General, easily.” Nils looked at me in confusion, and I murmured “You seriously thought I wasn’t going to look up the law firm that is representing my community? She’s partner, Nils.”

“I’m aware how she ranks in her firm,” he murmured back, “I guess I didn’t put that together, good eye.”

Mrs. Andover chuckled. “Oh, I like the two of you together. Good eye, Lash. People should stay where they think they can make the strongest impact in what they’re passionate about - if you don’t think that’s office, don’t run for office. Oh, and Lash, offhand - I can’t say why, but your community ought to start taking notes about any and all interactions with the police from here on out.”

Nils smirked. “That means they’re going to be unhappy with the results of the lawsuit.”

Mrs. Andover flicked a wrist. “No, just that her and her community ought to be taking notes and keeping documentation. Any further statements cannot be made at this time.”

“Mama is a secretary,” I assured them. “Taking notes is a compulsion for her, and letting her know will give her something to do other than honk at us.”

“I’m glad. Let her know I’d be happy to speak to her directly as well.” She slipped me a card.

Nils took a bite of his food, simply enjoying the blend of spices - and then turned to watch his father take a gulp of water. I had been training him to increase his tolerance, and almost certainly to flex he’d ordered one of the spiciest things on the menu.

Granted, even my tolerance wasn’t that high, so he was almost certainly just hiding the pain to fuck with his parents. I just grinned and scooped up a bite of stew. “I don’t know exactly what they add to the okra stew to make it so good, but it is certainly in my top ten favorite dishes. Mrs. Andover?” I had noticed she’d ordered the same - a very mild but extremely flavorful stew.

“Oh, it’s excellent. One of the reasons I love coming here. I’m glad Nils took you here for the first date. Means some of what I taught him stuck.”

Nils blushed. “I mean…good food, good company?” He was dutifully eating his food, but I could hear him struggling not to choke, shifting between pleasure and agony with each bite.

His mother gave him a flat look. “Make a girl feel special, take her somewhere nice with a bunch of really good options.”

Finally, I had mercy on both my boyfriend and his profoundly rude father and waved down our server. “I am really craving spiced buttermilk… any chance we can get four glasses of it? I don’t mind paying extra if it has to be made special. I didn’t see it on the menu.”

“Absolutely not. We invited you,” to my surprise, Nils’ father spoke first. “We’ll cover. But yes, spiced buttermilk would be good.”

In much less time than I expected, the server had returned with four glasses of thick, bright orange drink. No sooner had he walked away than I took a long sip of mine, rolling my eyes in exaggerated pleasure. “Buttermilk with turmeric, ginger, saffron, cinnamon, and a chai infusion. It compliments the food so well.”

Nils took a slow sip, clearly restraining himself from chugging, and took a breath. “It is excellent. Thank you for the suggestion.” He took another bite of the chicken, tasting the spice, the flavor, the heat, and then a slow sip of the milk. I could see a slight bead of sweat tracing down the side of his face, and wondered, briefly, about my boyfriend’s pain tolerance. And why he was doing this.

Mrs. Andover took a sip of her own, eyes widening. “Oh, this is lovely!” She pushed the last glass closer to her husband. “It’s… The closest I can describe it is it’s like a glass of melted orange sherbet. You should try it.”

After the first sip, every ounce of Dr. Andover’s composure collapsed as he inhaled half the glass. The facade was immediately put back in place however, as he sat up straight and set the glass down gently. “I agree, it’s quite the compliment to the food. I may indulge in a second, but we shall see.”

Nils took another bite of the berber-slathered chicken, smiling at the taste, and took a sip of the milk before the wave of heat hit him - he seemed to have gotten the timing down, since the facade no longer looked quite so forced. “Excellent suggestion, Lash. Would anyone like to try each other’s dishes?”

Mrs. Andover blinked, but smiled. “Oh, does Lash’s family do that, too? I know the Parsons do, and since Lash and I ordered the same thing…Here, Lash, you can have some of my side if I can have some of yours.”

I grinned, nodding. “My family eats communal meals, usually, so we all share, yes. But… I didn’t get to try the rosti last time and will gladly swap you for some of my dolmades - they’re not spicy, but very pickled.”

She smiled, and put some of the rostis on my plate and took some of my dolmades. I wisely turned down some of what Nils had ordered, and sensing my trepidation, so did his mother - though we both took some of his side, and gave him a bit of ours. His father blindly lunged ahead, clearly thinking the idea of swapping was ridiculous but not wanting to annoy his wife, and took a bit of Nils’ chicken, and Nils took a bit of the goat from his father, eating it with a smile.

I could feel the malevolence in Nils smile as his father bit into the berber-slathered chicken and rapidly gulped the milk, all trace of composure gone. “How…how were you keeping your calm through eating that the whole meal?” He managed to get out between gasps.

“I’m dating an Indian-Pakistani girl. She’s been training my spice tolerance.” Nils’ voice was casual.

Mrs. Andover seemed to be ignoring her son and husband’s antics, instead calmly gesturing with a spoon at her spouse’s meal. “How spicy is that?” When I glanced at the men, she shook her head. “They’ve always been like that, it’s best not to engage.”

I glanced again, before staring at the goat and trying to remember what had been ordered. Slowly, I answered. “It isn’t very spicy - I think it’s a bit bland, to be honest - but because it’s so fatty, the spice stays around and builds. You’re supposed to eat it with a bread or some other carb, to help.”

Without asking, she scooped a chunk of goat onto each of our plates. “Okay, show me. I love trying new things.”

Hesitantly, I tore a piece of bread off, and proceeded to use it to pick a chunk of goat off the bone, sheer habit causing me to use my fingers. The piece came away cleanly, and I shoved the entire bundle in my mouth before realizing what I had done.

To my abject horror, I looked up to see Mrs. Andover - coiffed, coutured, rich Mrs. Andover - with her fingers in her mouth and a look of delight on her face. She chewed quickly and swallowed before I could apologize for my manners. “Oh, that is so nice! And much easier than using a fork, no wonder he was struggling so much!”

“Ma’am, I am so sorry - “ I covered my mouth as she tore off another piece of bread and attacked the goat with gusto.

“I asked how it was meant to be eaten, Lash.” She gestured at herself, particularly her face. “Do I look like the kind of woman accustomed to eating spicy food properly?” When I was forced to shake my head, half surprised she’d asked like that, she added. “For God’s sake, Lash, do you think for an instant Nils got his sense of humor from his father?”

I glanced at Dr. Andover - still playing spicy-food chicken with his son and losing decisively - before shaking my head. “I just - Eating with fingers is not an American thing,” I finished lamely.

“As Nils will explain to you or indeed anyone at length - and has explained to me, and his father - that is very much an old world prohibition imported from upper-class Europeans, and lower-class Americans only developed issues with it when the average American became wealthy enough to have easy access to silverware. He will remind everyone who even tangentially brings this up how recent that is.” She gave a faint smile. “I wasn’t born wealthy, you know. I’m from the generation of Americans where one could work their way through college provided one started out merely middle class.”

“ ‘Merely’,” I mused. “And trust me that I am the last person Nils will need to lecture about silverware. He’s seen Baba eat palak paneer with his fingers and an extreme amount of dignity.” I paused and made a confused face. “I am still not sure how he keeps it out of his moustache, I’ll be honest. And it’s quite a moustache. He’s very proud of it.”

She chuckled. “Fair enough. I suppose I should have said, ‘I’m not judging’. My husband came from money, I did not. I think you and Nils are great together, by the way. I love the way you talk to each other.”

“We do argue, sometimes,” I confessed. “But usually it’s cultural, and we find our way through pretty quickly. My parents adore him, so there’s that. Mori - my sister - tolerates him well enough, which is practically a glowing approval from her.”

“A young man like Nils should have a partner he argues with. If there’s no arguments with a personality like that, it means either one of you is totally bulling over the other by force of will, or both of you are taking turns manipulating the other. Working through arguments when they come up is a much better sign.” She shrugged. “I’m glad your parents like him. I like you - and as to my husband…you impressed him and he respects you and your family. That will, in the long run, be better than him just “liking” you.”

I caught Nils stabbing another chunk of hallucigenically spicy chicken, and snatched his plate and fork away with the same hand. “I am not going to coddle you later when that is just as spicy as it was going in,” I warned him calmly. “Rice, sherbet, and buttermilk.”

Nils nodded. “Got it babe.”

Mrs. Andover pulled the dregs of the goat away from her spouse, pointing at me and Nils. “Same thing. Rice, sherbert, dairy. Lash is a lovely and clever girl, stop antagonizing our son, insert lecture here.” With that, she rested her chin elegantly on her intertwined fingers, winking at me. “I think you and I are going to get along great. You have my number, let’s set up a ladies’ day - invite your mother and sister. I’ll treat if your family chooses the restaurant.”

One and a half out of two was a win in my books. “I’ll talk to them about it, see if we can schedule it before Mori heads back home.”

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crescent14 · 3 months

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Choices and Chances

Et voila! Here is part 2 of my previous chapter. Hope you like it!

AO3

If she was honest with herself, she wanted to run up to him, kiss him, and shower him with all her love for him. She wanted to show him that her decision would not affect their relationship and that she hoped he felt the same.

She was also scared he would get mad and end it with her because she broke the promise she made to him. Would Alya feel the same? Would two of the most important people in her life, the ones who helped change her life for the better, lose their faith in her and Nino after they tell them their decision?

Was ESMOD her final decision? Was she choosing her lifelong dreams over her friends? Is that what they would think when she told them?

All these thoughts began to spiral in her head as she faintly saw Alya approach them from the other side of the park, but she couldn't even stand up straight with all the dizziness of the situation she had put herself in. Not to mention, she dragged Nino into this mess with her. How could she be so selfless? The closer Alya got, the more difficult it became to breathe. She faintly felt something strong hold her protectively as everything around her swayed before going black.

Adrien didn't want to let go of the hug. He liked her short displays of public affection. Granted he wanted to kiss her senseless the second she put her arms around it, but he knew she wouldn't be so comfortable in public, especially with Nino watching. He was hoping to talk to her about how he decided to quit fencing and ask for her opinion, but he realized he probably should have asked if his mother would even let him drop it. Granted she had said she would let him take up any activity of his choosing, but there was no talk of dropping the ones he was already in routine of. After all, they were part of his schedule long before she disappeared.

He still wondered about that, but that was something to talk to Ladybug about some other time. With the defeat of Monarch, the need to transform had decreased significantly, and every time he tried to ask his mother about what happened to her, she would get too emotional or start staring into space without an answer. He feared stepping any bounds with his already fragile mom, but she had been gone for over a year and he had changed a lot, so they were both in uncharted waters.

He glanced at Marinette, who surprisingly had the same blank expression on her face his mother made, one that told him she was deep in thought.

He was just about to bring her out of that state when he heard Nino call someone over. He glanced the other way to see Alya waving at them before her face had an expression of pure mortification as she ran towards them. He was puzzled and turned to Marinette hoping to ask her what was going on when she saw her gasping for breath as if she was in the midst of a panic attack.

"MARINETTE!", the three friends yelled as they ran towards her. She had been trying to stand up straight when she heard her name being called, lost her footing, and fell backwards.

Adrien was the fastest, diving in to catch her before her head hit the ground. He brought her head to rest on his lap as he and his friends looked at her with horror in their eyes. She had FAINTED! Now he was worried about why they wanted to meet. But that was not the priority at the moment.

Adrien gently lifted her and placed her on a bench while Nino tried to shield her away from prying eyes and Alya ran to a nearby stand to get her something to drink. Adrien couldn't keep his eyes off her. He was worried she was badly injured or sick but still decided to come to hang out with her friends. Did she just get sick? No one in the park showed any symptoms as far as he knew. Was she coming down with a fever? He placed his hand lightly on her forehead to check her temperature, bracing for the radiating heat that never came.

Marinette stirred as she opened her eyes. Did he fall asleep? Were the events of that day just a dream? As she tried to make sense of her surroundings, she felt something hard against her back. Her floor? Did she fall off her bed again? She looked up to see her blue ceiling...wait, blue? Her ceiling wasn't blue. Also, THAT'S NOT HER CEILING! THAT'S THE SKY!

The memories of the day all came flooding back and her eyes widened at the realization- SHE FAINTED! She tried to sit up when she felt a warm hand on her forehead. She looked to the side to see Adrien leaning over her, and Alya and Nino were standing behind him with worry etched on their faces. She must have scared them. Huh, the guilt from earlier came flooding back and the present moment only added to the awful feeling.

Adrien moved his hand as she tried to sit up. "Marinette. Are you sure you are ok? Do you need to go home?", Alya asked, passing her a bottle of water.

She didn't answer her. Instead, she took a sip of the water and looked directly at Nino, who looked like he knew exactly what happened. She thought of all the worst possible situations that could happen and blacked out from the spiralling shock. He walked over, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and nodded to show he understood. Because he felt the same. But Adrien and Alya deserved to know the truth.

She nodded back and swung her leg, so her feet touched the ground and Adrien grabbed her arm as she tried to stand. She almost lost her balance again, but only stumbled a bit before righting herself. It was only when she was sure she wouldn't fall did the boys let go of her arms.

"So, what was that?", Alya asked once they let go, pointing between her bestie and bf. "Yeah, I would like to know that too.", Adrien stated looking between them. "It's almost like you two have a secret amongst yourselves.", he said accusingly while crossing his arms over his chest.

Marinette and Nino looked at each other, shared a mutual nod and took a deep breath before yelling, "We're leaving Francois Dupont!". They looked between their astonished friends, hoping for a reaction that bordered on support, but the only looks their friends wore were those of pure surprise. That is not what they were expecting to hear, was it?

Alya, being Alya, was the first to snap out of the initial shock before asking, "What do you mean leaving Francois Dupont? You two don't plan to drop college, do you?", she asked in a high-pitched voice suggested the shock hadn't completely worn off.

"NO!", they both yelled back. "I'm going to be joining ESMOD and Nino is attending an arts school in the coming semester. We just thought you guys should know now and not on the first day of school when we don't show up. We just think these schools will get us one step closer to living our dreams, but we didn't know how to tell you guys because we promised-"

She trailed off on her ranting when she saw a look of adoration and joy on their faces. Then Adrien and Alya's smiles grew bigger till they burst out laughing, clutching each of their sides.

Nino and Marinette were just plain confused by this spectacle. They couldn't do anything but watch, that is until the laughter grew contagious and the two of them doubled down as well.

It was a while before the small group stopped their chuckles to catch a breath. Adrien was the first to break the silence then.

"Let me get this straight. You two thought we would be mad that you decided to follow your dreams instead of keeping your promise for the four of us to stay in the same school?"

"Well yeah. We didn't want you guys to think we were ditching you or anything.", Nino stated as if it were obvious. "We also thought of not going to different schools in fear we would hurt your feelings.", Nino added. There was no doubt he would have continued to talk had Marinette not elbowed him in the side to shut him up.

Adrien shook his head in disbelief before looking at Marinette, "And I believe that's why you fainted?"

She looked away shyly at the accusation and nodded. "I thought of all the ways it could go wrong and my brain kinda went into overdrive and shut off.", she stated, hiding her face in her hair in embarrassment.

"Well, as sad as I am to know we won't be going to the same school anymore, I am very excited for the two of you. You guys are really brave to take this next step. I only wish I knew what I wanted to do so I could take that brave step as well.", Adrien sighed at the end and rubbed the back of his neck, Alya nodding in agreement with everything he said.

"And as long as we're being honest, the only reason I'm staying in Francois is because I didn't get into the journaling school I applied for.", she said with tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. This news was met with a lot of 'they're crazy to not want you' and 'they're not worth it' before they all joined in on one group hug.

After spending the rest of the day just talking about all they could do together after school and promising to meet for lunch every day, the two couples parted ways from the Seine towards their own homes.

Adrien and Marinette walked hand in hand towards the bakery. They were halfway to the bakery when Adrien stopped walking, pulling Marinette to a halt as well. Hands still intertwined, she looked up at him with a puzzled look, waiting patiently for him to say whatever he needed to get off his chest.

"I- uh- Mother gave me a choice on which extracurriculars I wanted to continue, drop or start in the coming semester.", he maintained eye contact with her and saw her lip open up into an O of astonishment.

"Really?", she squeaked, before clearing her throat and continuing, "And what did you decide to do."

"I'm not picking up any new activities at the moment, but I have decided to drop fencing. I feel like I've learnt all I could from the sport, it would just take up a huge chunk of time. Time I would rather be spending with you.", he smiled at her like a Cheshire cat and squeezed her hand. She squeezed back and smiled at him, letting him know she supported his decision no matter what.

They continued their walk when she noticed the entrance to Francois Dupont. A tear trickled down her cheek as she remembered that place for what it was- the place where she first fell in love with her boyfriend. Adrien followed her line of sight and smiled sweetly when he understood what she was looking at. He would never forget the time she told him how she fell in love with him in the rain, at the entrance to that very school.

He realized she was feeling weird for giving it up and turned her around by placing his hands on her shoulders so she would face him.

"I know it feels like you are letting go of something precious, but we're already together. We're in love and nothing and nobody can take that away. It doesn't matter how we got to where we are, I know I would not change it for the world.", she smiled up at him and he knew she felt the same. The school would always be there. And if not, the memory was not going anywhere for a long time. They shared a tender kiss full of love, before intwining their hands again to continue their walk home.

It didn't matter what the future would bring. With her friends and family by her side, Marinette knew everything was going to be alright.

#miraculous ladybug #adrienette #mlb #post monarch #post s5

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izel-01 · 4 months

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I grew to resent her, after years of her ab*se, after years of praying to her god to save me, asking begging an explanation as to why she hated me, why I was never enough for her, why would our “father” make her cry and hurt her… my questions will remain unanswered…

even years later when we were at the hospital looking at his cold body just laying there, lifeless, drained of color, drained of life, him no longer being there… I tried just one more time begging her god to make him wake up, to make him pay for his sins, to say sorry and mean it this time, to actually love me, to give us an explanation, anything but as I stood there holding his cold and stiff left hand just bawling my eyes out surrounded by strangers who knew him, strangers that adored him when I feared him yet he once was my Daddy, my hero…

and where was she during all of this states away with her new family pr*grant at the time with the second to youngest of this so called family. We had an uncle and aunt pick us up on their way to the state where he used to live, they did us a huge favor in doing so but it was also a displeasure for a lack of a better word

Sure they gave us the “grace” to say a final goodbye one last time but again we were surrounded by strangers and sure the aunt and uncle and their two children were there but we haven’t been in contact since she left him and that’s been over a decade and due to the ab*se my brain has erased most of the memories so it’s like meeting new people again by myself being the sole protector of me and my little sister

his 3 older daughters from his previous marriage were there at least we saw them maybe a handful of times before his death but we were never in good terms. The oldest adored us but she also had her two younger sister from her moms side but we looked like twins. the middle one was indifferent she didn’t care for me at least but she adored my little sister, they looked like twins. and the youngest of those three resented us, me especially mainly out of jealousy - she believes that we “took him away and broke their family”.

And that was the version of the story they grew up with. When in reality their mom kicked him out, leaving him to live in the streets in whatever car he had back then, stole his money from him, and got with his best friend and brothers behind his back (leading for many to believe the youngest of his 3 girls to not be his but was never proven true and the fact that he resented her for it but she legally had his last name so sucks to suck) all of that when my mum met him in the club up north (cliche and I hate everything about it) and it wasn’t until well into the relationship that she found out he was still legally married but was “separated”, yet during her pr*gnancy with me AND my sister’s he would be a man wh*re aka cheating on her and yet this dumbass stayed with him for over a decade. To this day the three oldest are in denial are not mature enough to talk about it bc they (the middle and the youngest of them) wanna be victims so bad 🙄 but also the fact that I physically and emotionally cannot handle having that conversation yet and it’s been a while but it still hurts, not his death but more like I’ll never get closure from him cause he’s gone I’ve had about a handful dreams about him starting like a week after his death up until I think the last one was a couple months ago and I only have one vivid dream that I remember every detail tii oh this day and it felt so real I still cry about it - in a later post

But hey they got to see him live way after they all turned 18… I was 15 and my sister was 13, she was the baby of his kids. And even then we barely got to see him due to custody issues, the ab*se, constantly moving state to state, etc etc

that day of his wake the youngest of his 3 said some of most horrific things to the middle one and I overheard bc she didn’t even try to hide it or be subtle like I get YOU lost your dad, but you are not the only ones and it’s not like I can defend myself or my little sister bc I’m grieving too.

We were in his room laying down on the bed were he slept sitting on the floor where he walked on taking showers where he once showered and she had the audacity to open her mouth and say that stuff, it still hurts to even think about to this day and it’ll 7 years this month since then… but the oldest didn’t really defend us the youngest, more like just told her to be quiet

I wanted to run outside and get some air before I burst into tears again for nth time that day but the stupid aunt who picked us up didn’t let me until I explained what happened (I appreciate what they did for us but that pissed me off) ig she thought I was going to run away which?? Fuck no hello? Im states away from home and it’s a pretty racist state so it wouldn’t even be safe for me?? After I got some air I came back in to explain to her how it wasn’t fair they got the living father ALL throughout their lives and we didn’t

I don’t remember much of what was said but I made sure she was aware of the abuse and the look on their faces and the gasp from her was priceless and the silence as I cried out it wasn’t like “haha revenge on him” more like “know our story our lives get a glimpse HEAR US” bc nobody did most who were close to us even relatives turned a blind eye to the ab*se and some may have said something but did nothing to help us get out of the situation until it was almost too late bc by the time she finally decided enough was enough the damage was already done

#personal vent #sorry for being depressing #vent blog #vent post

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screechthewriter · 6 months

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you crazy-assed cosmonaut (remember your virtue) | a god of war/titanfall 2 crossover

part 5/6:

Harmony was beautiful, but he was having a hard time appreciating it.

Cooper wasn’t even sure you could entirely call it PTSD, or a depressive spell. It could’ve partially been that, to be sure, but it was also just...the sheer amount of stuff going on. His field promotion. Having to move between departments. All the paperwork. The weight of what had nearly happened to Harmony, what would have happened if he hadn’t...

If BT hadn’t...

Cooper spent as much time as possible away from the eyes of his colleagues, away from the SRS, away from everyone. Everyone except Atreus, the one person who didn’t seem to expect anything from him. He didn’t even directly pry about Cooper’s mental health.

Indirectly, though...

“So, you know there are studies that say being out in nature is good for you?”

Cooper glanced over his shoulder. Atreus was standing in the doorway of their shared room, looking...surprisingly different out of his military wear. Granted, he was still wearing a lot of green, but the golden-yellow t-shirt was new. “Is this your way of telling me to get my ass out of bed?” Cooper asked.

“Well, yeah, that and I don’t want to go for a walk alone. Humor me?”

He had a point. And it wasn’t like Cooper hated being outside, as long as it wasn’t too crowded, too full of people. Being alone in nature—alone-ish, with Atreus there—was definitely preferable to being in his room.

It was probably a good sign he still felt that way.

“Okay, okay, I’m getting up.”

It wasn’t long before they were out in a nearby nature preserve. Harmony had a lot of those. At first, they just walked in silence. Cooper let his eyes dart from plant to plant, trying to identify any of them, thinking about how much his mom would enjoy this place. Eventually, the silence felt safe enough that a question slipped out.

“You’d get me help if you thought I needed it, right?” Cooper asked. The question felt easier when he was staring at the other man’s back instead of talking face to face.

Atreus glanced over his shoulder, only for a second. “Is this you giving me permission...?”

Cooper thought about the weight in his chest, the exhaustion that seemed to follow his every step, the way sometimes he swore he saw his helmet visor flicker out of the corner of his eye. “...yeah.”

“Then yes. Definitely.” Atreus stopped suddenly and took a deep breath. “I almost forgot what plants smell like. Nice thing about a preserve is we probably won’t run into anyone living out here.”

“Did that happen to you a lot?”

“Yes, but I was the person being run into. I’m probably a cryptid out on a planet or two.” Atreus laughed. “Imagine wandering out into the forest for a nice walk and seeing some dude with a bow collecting mushrooms and dragging the day’s catch. That was me.”

The mental image made Cooper snort quietly. He liked Atreus, he was used to the guy, but even then he could see how he was a bit...cryptid-like. “Probably doesn’t help that you need a bell on your ankle for people to keep track of you,” Cooper noticed.

“Oh, yeah. And I was going barefoot sometimes, too.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I’m like a duck. No nerves in my feet. You grew up on a farm, right? You know the pleasures of being out in nature. Barefoot in the dirt, not a care in the world.”

“Yeah.” Cooper closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. It did smell nice out there, green and alive with a hint of petrichor after the previous night’s rainfall. But...

It wasn’t the fields he remembered from home. And suddenly, he deeply missed that place.

A careful hand on his shoulder drew him back to the present, when Cooper opened his eyes, Atreus stood at his side. He didn’t say anything, but from the look on his face...he knew. He understood.

There weren’t too many people Cooper could confidently say he could read like that.

He was happy he still had one left.

Atreus, despite his Schrödinger’s godhood, had a complicated relationship with the supernatural.

It all fell into four categories for him: can confirm, can deny (this was a shockingly small category), cannot confirm (not the same thing as can deny), and plausible but not in the way everyone else thinks. Ghosts fell into that last category. He knew, to a degree, that the soul existed, that it went someplace else after death, that it could interact with the living. It was all the particulars that got messy. Sure, he’d been to Helheim, but he also personally knew a whole slew of death and afterlife “gods” who couldn’t figure out who had jurisdiction of whom, why, and how.

(Dad’s soul was especially contentious. Even he had to admit it was pretty funny).

This meant Atreus had no idea where the late Captain Tai Lastimosa’s soul had ended up. But he was completely willing to believe it was haunting Cooper’s helmet.

Either that or the thing was glitching, but Atreus had checked. The visor’s flickering was too regular to be a glitch. There was definitely a pattern to it..not morse code, but something. Cooper was out, so Atreus couldn’t ask him about it. Even If he were in, what was Atreus going to say? Hey, buddy, call me crazy, but is the helmet previously owned by your dead mentor haunted or something?

No. Better to figure this out on his own.

Atreus leaned over so he was making “eye” contact with the helmet. “...anyone in there?” he asked awkwardly. The helmet flickered again. Same pattern. “Is there any way you can like...blink once for yes, twice for no?” he tried. Now he was starting to wish he’d paid more attention to what the spiritualists were actually up to instead of just pranking them on and off. Maybe they had been onto something. “I don’t want to go to Cooper without evi-“

Was it just him, or did the flickering get more insistent?

“If there’s something you want me to tell him, you’re gonna have to say it in words I can understand,” Atreus said patiently. “I don’t know what you’re saying.”

Oh, yeah, the flickering was definitely getting faster. Same pattern still. Could the ghost or spirit not communicate any other way? Atreus had heard stories about that kind of thing: ghosts trapped in perpetual cycles, unable to break free. It had always seemed so sad. Even more so now that it involved a friend of his.

“There’s got to be something else I can try,” Atreus muttered. He straightened back up. The plan had been to pace around the room a bit, see if the movement helped him think. But when he turned around...there was Cooper. Standing in the doorway. Staring.

Not the weirdest thing he could’ve walked in on me doing, but uhhh, still bad.

“...I can explain,” Atreus said awkwardly.

“You see it, too?” Cooper said, his voice dripping with relief.

Oh. Okay. That definitely changed things.

“It’s a repeating pattern,” Atreus said as he carefully turned over the helmet in his hands, “It blinked faster when I mentioned you, but the pattern never changed. I don’t recognize it at all, so...” He shrugged. “That’s all I’ve got right now. Sorry.”

“Honestly?” Cooper said. “I’m just relieved I’m not losing it.” Because he really thought he had been. If Atreus saw it, as insane as everyone joked about him being, there was no way it was all in his head. “So...what do you think we should do?”’

“Call a priest? Joking. Okay, 25% joking.” Atreus started pacing again. “Do you know anyone who’s good with codes and might be willing to hear you out? Or accept half the story without asking questions?”

No, was Cooper’s first thought. Atreus was his only real friend at the moment, if he was being honest. But when he thought about it a second longer... “I think...yeah, the 6-4 is still in town,” Cooper said. “They seem to like me. One of them might be able to help.”

“And they’re outside the chain of command, so no one has to know. Good thinking.” Atreus grinned and held the helmet out to Cooper. “Bringing this? Or do you want to just write it down?”

They did both, in the end, which worked out. The helmet had gone quiet by the time they found anyone from the 6-4. It was weird seeing them without their helmets and jump gear. Davis, as it turned out, was Korean the whole time. “Oh, you’ll want Droz for this,” Davis said, examining the paper they’d written the pattern on. “He’s our resident code enthusiast. Hey, Droz!” Davis waved to catch the attention of a dark-skinned, curly-haired man dressed in a standard jumpsuit. “Got something weird for you!”

Droz jogged over. “What’s up?”

“Cooper got some weird code in his helmet that he can’t figure out. Thoughts?”

Droz took the paper, eyes skimming over the dots and dashes Cooper had used to transcribe the helmet’s flickering. “I think it’s binary. It’s gibberish if you try to do it as morse, but if I made these ones and zeroes, maybe...” He pulled a pen out of one of his pockets, pressed the page against Davis’s shoulder, and started writing. This must have happened a lot, because Davis didn’t protest at all. After a bit of scribbling and muttering to himself...

“It’s just saying Jack over and over,” Droz said, passing the paper back to Cooper. “Recognizing the new owner, maybe?”

For a split second, Cooper wondered if Atreus had been right about the thing being haunted. But...no, Lastimosa never called him Jack. Only Cooper. So why...

The memory slammed into him like a Ronin sword.

Copy of my AI.

“You okay?” Atreus asked. “You look a little...”

Cooper ran. He didn’t register the confused shouts of the others. Only one thought stuck.

He’s alive.

He’s still in there.

BT was still alive.

“Jack!” Atreus caught up to Cooper pretty quickly, but didn’t try to stop him. That’d probably just freak him out worse. “What’s going on?”

“He’s in the helmet,” Cooper replied. A second glance confirmed that freaked wasn’t entirely right. He was a little freaked, but there was too much single-minded resolve in his eyes for this to be an about to have a meltdown kind of deal. “BT. He’s in the helmet.”

“Your Titan? Why do you figure?”

“He copied part of his AI into my helmet because...I think that’s classified. But he did, so maybe...maybe that’s enough?”

...shit. So I was half right. “Can’t hurt to ask,” Atreus said. “Do you want me to come with?”

“Please? This might catch up to me any second now.”

So, stand by and step in if he needs a social buffer. Got it.

There were a few people who looked confused that a rifleman was in the typically SRS-only part of the base, but no one tried to stop him. Eventually, they burst into what looked like some kind of R&D lab. Atreus had to fight the urge to be nosy. It was his knee-jerk impulse in places he wasn’t allowed. “Pilot Cooper?” said one of the confused-looking scientists.

“I think BT is in my helmet,” Cooper blurted.

If that didn’t get their attention, Cooper’s explanation did. Soon, the entire room was swarmed around Cooper and the helmet. One woman seemed especially interested; she was the one to take Cooper’s helmet to a computer. “She in charge?” Atreus guessed.

Cooper nodded, watching the scientists with worried eyes. “She oversaw BT’s creation personally. Her and Lastimosa were close.”

That explained the look in her eyes. She kept it together, but they had the same desperation Cooper’s did. Maybe I can save him. Maybe I can bring him back.

That Titan really meant a lot to people. Atreus hadn’t realized how much.

The longer the helmet was poked and prodded, the more anxious Cooper looked. Atreus almost asked if he wanted to get out of there, but he had a feeling that would make it worse. "You look jittery," Atreus whispered. "Thoughts on fixing that?"

"Uhm." Cooper considered it, then shook his head. “I just need answers. I’ll be okay...” He sat down suddenly, wrapping his arms around himself and leaning forward. “...I just want to know.”

Not much I can do about that. I mean, I can, but I’ll probably get in trouble for using time magic. If the Vanir didn’t get him, the natural flow of the universe would, somehow. It caught up with everyone, one way or another. Atreus sat down next to him. “So, when they’re able to put him back together,” he said, “I get to meet him, right? I know I’m probably not allowed in the Titan bays, but...”

“When has that ever stopped you?”

“I was gonna say I’m sure you could get me in, but yeah, that too.”

Cooper laughed weakly. “Of course I will. You two are like the only friends I have.” Titan and a pseudo-god. You really know how to pick ‘em, buddy. Or how to get in situations where they pick you. “He’s great. I know that might be weird to say about a Titan, but...”

“Pilot?”

Cooper bolted upright. One of the scientists jogged over. “We think there’s enough of the code to make a reconstruction,” said the man, a bit breathless from either the jog or excitement. “I can’t promise it will be perfect, there may be some holes in his memory, but...if all goes well...”

“He’ll be okay?” Cooper said quietly. Almost afraid. Atreus understood: the news was too good. There was no way the universe was that kind. Not after it had taken so much from him recently.

But sometimes life was kind. Sometimes it was even kind when you needed it the most.

“He should be okay,” confirmed the scientist.

The man was called away almost immediately after dropping that bombshell. It was probably for the best; Cooper wasn’t able to keep it together after that. He buried his face in his hands, body shaking with barely-suppressed sobs. Atreus carefully squeezed the other man’s shoulder, but stayed silent otherwise. It’d be better to let the emotions run their course, he knew. Especially since these were happy ones. Overwhelming, sure, but happy.

It’s okay, he thought. It’s going to be okay now.

It took them a few weeks, but eventually Atreus got the two word text he’d been waiting for.

He’s back!!!!

The initial reunion was in private, which Atreus had expected. He was a little surprised that his introduction happened the same day. “It’s just,” Cooper explained, “I don’t know if they’ll want to deploy me again now that he’s back, and I really do want you two to meet…”

“Hey, no explanation needed,” Atreus said reassuringly. “I’m happy to meet the guy. Really. Uh, is there anything I should know…?” He’d never interacted with a Titan before, much less a Vanguard. He’d heard they were quirky but wasn’t really sure what to expect from that.

“BT’s…a little literal-minded, so just talk to him like you would me? Other than that, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” Cooper was a lot more energetic lately. This whole thing had done wonders for his mood. “I mentioned you to him back on Typhon, so don’t be surprised if he brings that up.”

“You did?”

“Well…yeah, I was worried about you.”

Oh, right. People worried about him for normal human reasons. Though, knowing Cooper, he probably would’ve worried even if he’d known the full truth. “Fair enough.”

Again, Atreus found himself fighting the urge to be nosy as they made their way through the titan hanger. BT was being kept in the back, away from prying eyes, and the walk to get to him went past a lot of stuff Atreus wouldn’t normally get the chance to see. Focus. You’re here for Jack.

BT provided enough of a distraction to keep Atreus’s nosiness in check. He was twice as tall as Atreus, maybe a bit more than that, with paint that was far too pristine for a three year old Titan.

New body, Atreus reminded himself. I wonder what that feels like?

Cooper didn’t need to say anything; the Titan’s one eye fixed on them immediately. Atreus was a little taken aback by how expressive the Titan was. This wasn’t the chipper, exaggerated cheer of a MRVN, or the lack of anything that Specters and other IMC war machines had. The Titan’s body language–the widening and dilation of his one eye, subtle hand movements, even some subtle (not so subtle due to size) movements in the shoulders–reminded Atreus of the few simulacrums he’d met. The bodies were robotic, sure, but you always knew whatever was pulling the strings wasn’t. Or, in this case, that it had developed far past its base programming.

“Hey, buddy,” Cooper said. “This is the friend I told you about.”

BT’s eye drifted to Cooper. “Arthur Kokinos,” he said, his voice a deep rumble. “I am glad you see you are not dead.”

He sounded like he meant it, too. Even if the Titan was likely mostly glad for Cooper’s sake, it was…kind of touching.

“Thanks,” Atreus said with a smile. “Glad to see you’re not dead, either.”

They may not have known each other for long, but…yeah. BT seemed all right.

#fic: you crazy assed cosmonaut (remember your virtue)#series: hammer of the gods (will drive our ships to new lands)#loss cw #grief cw #god of war #titanfall 2 #respawn cinematic universe

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unknwnxquantity · 6 months

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I don’t know how to be a friend

I’ve put partners above friendships ever since I started dating. Without fail. I don’t know how to be a good friend to people without leaving them on read for weeks. Without giving them my empathy when it’s needed. I’ve gotten a bit better.

I’ve dropped EVERYTHING for my partners in the past. Even situationships. My family knows this too. They used to not expect much of me bc they knew I’d disappoint in some way by putting a partner first. I’d say I’ll spend time with them at this day at this time, then I’d be like oops nvm I’m gonna be with my gf🤪 or when my ex would have her endometriosis flare ups—funny how my gf now has those same problems and they both were born two days apart… diff years and zodiacs tho😭 Taurus Venus’ seemingly work well with my cancer venus but I wasn’t searching for that to happen, it just did— I’d drop the world and Uber to her to take care of her. My mom always thought she was a hypochondriac. Pretty hypocritical of her. Jk mom you’re not but you know what pain feels like.

It got to a point where I resent doing almost anything that doesn’t honor my plans with others or even if I simply don’t feel like it. Thats one of the reasons that’s made it hard to be in a relationship at times, to do things intrinsically from the heart vs feeling the obligation to do it. I always felt guilty if I didn’t put my gfs first. You’re supposed to right? That’s your job as a partner. To give your undying loyalty to them and to put them first, make them feel like the most special person in your life. That’s true to an extent.

So now I’m at a point where I’ve lost many friends and potential friendships bc I didn’t maintain them properly. Building a friendship is delicate almost as delicate as building a foundation for a relationship. But I would either ghost them/respond slow, or spill my guts about my emotions (to existing friends), and be inconsistent with theirs in their times of need. I would be there but wasn’t in a way.

Granted people suck (they don’t but yes they do most times). They ghost you. They change, they evolve, you definitely evolve. You exit each other’s lives. That’s life

I’m trying to give my friends more of the energy that I’d want back. I’m thankful for the ones who have been patient with me and understand that I’m not ignoring them, it’s just that voice memos and catching up is overwhelming. I have notifications for days and I’m scared to start on something so I leave it alone for weeks. So I constantly reassure, “I didn’t forget I’m just overwhelmed with life.” Most times they get it. After a while they can get fed up. which is understandable!! I had a friend ghost me tho recently bc I guess I was texting that inconsistently over the past year. Which again I get but at our big age you’re still ghosting??? Really? lol okay. That shows more about you than me. I thought our friendship was deeper than that but she is the type to ghost bc she’s uncomfortable with confrontation and her feelings. And my dynamic with her gf is weird bc of previous work drama. Whatever I should’ve known I wasn’t different to that type of treatment.

I’m grateful to my family tho. They’re mostly understanding of my anxiety and overwhelming ness when it comes to responding back. HUMANS WERENT MEANT FOR THIS! TO BE ON CONSTANT STAND BY FOR ANYONES REACH!! It’s a beautiful thing but it’s fucking with our brains. Our entitlement to have everyone respond back to us right this second or else “they hate me” or our ego is like “i hate you now!” No. I feel so trapped and dependent on my phone. Who doesn’t nowadays?

The friend trauma runs so deep. Deeper than my relationship/love traumas. I feel it can root to how friends can just ghost you more easily if they want. Less accountability than in a relationship. That makes it harder for me to open up to making new friends vs making romantic connections in the past. That friend rejection is more deep rooted. Like if my person isn’t responding or acting off, I have more of a “right” to question them. With friends it’s more ambiguous. I’m more on a back burner. I don’t like that!!!!! But I have to deal with it anyway!!!! Bc I am not the center of ppls worlds! What a hard and humbling realization. I’m def a Leo in that way. Friends can be good too for selfish reasons (this is me being real in the chat and my self awareness— we all have innate tendencies that aren’t “good” and are selfish). Like if I don’t wanna come off unattractive to my partner but I’m spiraling, I don’t have to worry how I look to my friends bc I’m not with them romantically. I can get my advice from them. I can ask them for direction. With a partner, I feel you have less of a limit to do that until they start slowly not respecting you as much. As this masculineeeee leaddddd in relationships bc I love my femmes, I have to be cool calm and collected most times (this is learned behavior but also a fact of life bc divine masculine/divine feminine needs a balance). Ugh it’s exhausting. I’m just a 25 year old girl!!! But I’m also not and I wanna be more of a leader. So that ppl can trust in me and lean into my energy. Not doubting my capabilities and better judgment.

That’s why people stress you need a life outside your partner. They cannot be your only outlet of happiness and satisfaction in life. They also can’t meet you in every way you want in life. Whether it be some emotional/mental/spiritual need at any given moment, no one person can ever do it for you at the exact moment you need it. That’s why you need friends. Family. Hobbies. A strong sense of self. The confidence to do things alone but able to enjoy it with another. Also people go through phases. Like if you’re going on a more heightened spiritual part of your journey, your partner can’t always align with that. It’s physically impossible to be on the same wavelength with someone at every possible moment. That’s not life. You need to meet your own needs but make sure you’re doing it respectfully. But still honoring yourself. That’s another thing I’ve learned. No one person will fulfill ALL your needs. But you can have a friend that does! Let’s say your partner doesn’t like walks, you can go do it yourself or with someone who appreciates it just like you do! Life is so complex. There’s mini journeys on top of other mini journeys that coincide, phases on phases, yet in the grand scheme of it that little journey plays into your overall life. Like the journey of learning what products work for your hair. The journey of finding what haircut works the best for you and your facial features. Or the journey of diff coffee and milk combos you’re addicted to, and now you’re on a heavy cream kick in your dark roasted coffee with one raw sugar lol (even tho you loved oatmilk but it’s bad for you and almond milk is so bland). And how that coincides with where I’m at in life right this second. At my jobs. Having my very randomly deep meaningful conversations with customers and coworkers. Or even the lighthearted “robotic” like ones where you’re on autopilot but still appreciating the small talk. It’s an art. Or witnessing the bond grow between my cats. My kitten Rain (whose bday falls the day before my gf’s! You cannot make this shit up) finally becoming her own little woman and always on top of Boots (my gf’s cat) bc she adores him like the big brother he is to her. The journey of me and Rain making sounds/eeps at each other in our languages although we are literal different species lol and we don’t technically understand each other, but it’s an energy thing and she appreciates that I talk to her and make her feel cared for. So many journeys. So many things to catch glimpses of to appreciate all that life has to offer at literally every corner imaginable.

#unknwnxquantity

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riverdrifter · 8 months

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River Listens To: Mayfair Watchers Society - Episodes 5 & 6

We're starting to pick up more hints towards the overarching plotline as I move along! I'm cataloguing my thoughts in between shiny hunting sessions in Pokemon Rumble, so my writing may be a little more sparse. As always, spoilers under the cut!

📸 Episode 5: Flash Bulb

Here it is: the incident that was hinted at in Episode 2 with the Hayward Textile Mill! This episode was a little more difficult to listen to for me. The moth sound effects were a bit over-exaggerated, but also, I'm not sure how else one would communicate moth flight in an audio-only medium. The interviewer was also hard to understand sometimes. Granted, I could've looked at the transcript, but I was multitasking, so I'll take the L for that one. But there's probably a reason this is the first episode that comes up when I search "mayfair watchers society transcript".

I think the main thing making this a more difficult listen, though, was the character dynamic between our two leads, Drew and Cam. This doesn't mean it was a bad dynamic! They just don't have the easy chemistry of some of our previous characters. It made for a more tense episode, but I still think that it was a good story. In fact, I think their tension kind of carried the episode.

To elaborate, you can get the feeling immediately from the way Cam and Drew talk to each other that they are in a rough spot. Drew insults Cam a lot, and they both keep blaming each other for mistakes. The reason why is made apparent if you listen closely, though. Cam mentions someone named Finch who evidently knows that the mill had holes in the second floor. Cam was evidently supposed to come to the mill with them last year, until an unspecified incident which makes both her and Drew uncomfortable to even mention in passing. This name comes up a couple more times, until Drew says this:

"Finch was always full of shit anyway."

Was. This made their entire dynamic click for me. I think this is a mutual friend, or perhaps just a friend of Cam's, who these two had differing feelings on, and their evident loss must have torn them apart. Cam speaks of them fondly, but Drew dropping this line is what gives me the impression of what their dynamic must have been like when Finch was around. He later says that he's not going to leave Cam alone, so the remaining two clearly care for each other. There's just something making that difficult to sustain right now.

It's clear, too, that whatever happened with Finch is not the only thing straining this friendship. When Drew says that Cam's mom is nice, she says that he only thinks that because he doesn't have to live with her. Cam later asks if Drew is dealing with "stepdad stuff", which Drew does not want to talk about. So, it seems like familial issues on both ends are putting stressors on these teens and their shaky relationship.

There is more loss in the background of the episode, too. Cam mentions that her mom has been working late because someone "stopped showing up to work". That may be inconspicuous if this were not Mayfair. Drew also once mentions a brother, who he speaks about with some level of reverence; Cam later reveals that said brother was hit by a car. These two teens are clearly going through it.

Ultimately, the monster itself wasn't as exciting. Like I said, the characters felt like the greater focus. I'm glad for my relisten, because it shed a lot of light on the underpinnings of this episode that made it make so much more sense to me why it's so stressful.

🪵 Episode 6: The Host

This episode rocks. I remember liking it the first time, and it might be my favorite so far on this relisten. I like the characters, the setting, the anomaly of the week... There's a lot that I enjoy about this episode, and I'll get into why.

Arthur is a hilarious character to me. He's the epitome of "white environmentalist who thinks a week in a cabin is returning to his spiritual roots" and I find it so fun to rag on him. Let's look at the notes I kept on Arthur specifically (non-exhaustive):

"So-called civilization" oh it's one of those guys

OF COURSE HE'S WRITING A BOOK LOLLL

Guy who believes in untouched wilderness. Everyone point and laugh

"I'M OUT HERE EARNING M E N T A L WEALTH. THE CURRENCY YOU CAN NEVER RUN OUT OF. I JUST SAW A CONDOR"

"Always the fuckin' owls" guys do you think he's getting tired of this already?

He's so giving "humans are the virus"

I don't hate him. Don't let this list give you the impression that I hate him. I just think he's absolutely hilarious to make fun of because I've definitely met this guy before at like, REI. He's a guy who is disillusioned with capitalism but doesn't understand that it's capitalism and thinks that people just individually choose to work office jobs and go to college. You can tell this is true when he goes off on his friend Marv for "the crypto lifestyle" and blames him instead of, I don't know, the 1%. In that same scene, he compares his friend James' coming out (diversity win!) to himself doing his little off-the-grid soul search. He quickly realizes that he's being a dick, but like, it's emblematic of his deeper issues.

You can also tell how quickly he loses his mind being alone. I pointed out in my silly list how quick he is to curse out the owls. He also very audibly screams into his pillow before turning off the recording in one segment. Which makes sense, because he has no idea what he's doing out here. He thinks he's suuuch a naturalist, but his ass is NOT following the 6 foot rule for disposing of fecal waste. This man is going on about people not wanting to look truth in the eyes, and then he hears the most bearlike noises ever recorded and says shit like, "Must be that bird again." It's funny how out of his depth he is when he wants so badly to be a part of the natural world.

It's interesting how seamlessly his attitude towards nature flows into becoming one with the barnacles, or the Ick, or whatever we're calling it. He starts out already saying that these things out here are people, too. This made it kind of hard for me to tell when the infection started, or if there is an infection to speak of until he gets claimed at the end of the episode. I'm unclear on whether these barnacle things have some sort of mental effect upon first sighting, or if he's only lost when he makes physical contact with the thing that was previously a deer. I'm leaning towards the latter, or else I'm not sure he would have been so frightened by the bear-thing at the stream. But I'm still a bit uncertain of the mechanics of this anomaly.

Upon reading the transcript, things became a bit easier to understand. I misinterpreted some things in my notes; I'm unsure whether this fault actually lies on the sound design, since I was listening without headphones again. I did notice a gentle breeze at the beginning of the episode, which got me into the atmosphere. I also noticed that the creatures outside were sounding a little fucked up while Arthur here was still hearing birds. There's one bit at the end of the transcript that's really raw, but left me confused:

His voice fades away. The noises of the barnacles rise even higher. The bear roars. So does the ocean.

It's quite evocative, but it made me give the end of the episode another listen, because I did not catch any ocean sounds on my first go. It's faint, but you can definitely hear the ocean if you're paying attention. I have to imagine that this is metaphorical, otherwise it raises a lot more questions about how this anomaly works.

This episode had a lot of good dialogue lines, too. For as much as I make fun of Arthur, he delivers some real bangers, such as the following:

"How can you know something's dead if you don't know how it lives?"

and:

"The point is, I ripped out the part that rots. Now, the healing can begin."

I give the guy a lot of shit, but you can tell that he's a writer. (I also really like his VA; they use him a lot, but I find him to be quite effective.)

Overall, I really like this episode. I'm still a little shaky on how the Ick works, but since this is a monster of the week show, I don't think I need to dwell on it much. Some anomalies might play by different rules than others. That's something to keep in mind. I found the theming of the episode to be fantastic: guy moves to the woods with nobody to escape what he feels are the faults of humanity. Guy rejects connection in doing this. Guy then finds connection by succumbing to the horrors. I can't quite articulate it, but it's a fun turn-around. I look forward to more episodes like this.

#river listens to #mayfair watchers society #podcasts #trevor henderson #long post #journal

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skinnyducky · 3 years

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unexpected visits // v.h.

I got this idea from a movie (She's Out of My League). This scene in particular was one that nearly made me piss my pants and I knew I had to write something similar to it. I just really wanted to do something so kooky and funny and I felt this definitely fits that. I categorized this as fluff but idk. N E ways, here it is. Hope y'all enjoy it!

link to part 2

Word Count: 1420, slightly edited

WARNING: sexual themes, heavy make out session, language (once again...I think), mention of alcohol, and a very flustered vinnie

---------

You threw your head back in laughter as Vinnie had cracked another joke. You two had just left your date at BOA Steakhouse and due to the night being so great, you decided to invite Vin back to your apartment to hang out. Granted, you had no intentions of giving him the goods, at least not yet. You didn’t want to rush into that with this relationship. With so many of your previous relationships, you’d give it up and then they’d leave. You didn’t want that with Vinnie. Hell, you at least wanted him to meet your parents before any of that.

“You are a mess,” you giggled, stopping in front of your apartment door.

“Eh, I try to not to be.” He replied, making a funny face.

You rolled your eyes and pulled out your keys. You fumbled a bit before finding the key to your apartment. As you opened the door, you immediately dropped your bag and headed straight for the kitchen.

“You want anything to drink? A soda or water?” You asked, opening your fridge. “I think I may even have a White Claw or two.”

“Just a water’s fine.”

You nodded and grabbed two waters. You watched from behind the kitchen island as he glanced around your apartment, admiring the décor.

“This is a really nice place.” He gasped. “It’s even nicer than-…”

He stopped mid-sentence, staring at the horse of a dog that stood right before him. He gulped and backed away as the male Doberman began to growl at him.

“What the hell is that?” Vinnie asked, holding his hand out in defense.

Giggling, you walked out from behind the counter. “That’s Mac. I’m watching him for a while until my family gets back from Puerto Rico.”

“Oh wow,” Vinnie replied, “he’s got some teeth on him.”

“Yeah, you should sit down. He hates when people stand up; makes him antsy.”

Vinnie wasted no time taking a seat on your sofa. Mac took note of this and laid down. Taking your place on the sofa next to Vinnie, you passed him his water before taking a drink of yours. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, not knowing what to do or talk about. That was until you grew tired of the quietness and decided to make a move. You leaned in close to him and grabbed his chin to make him face you. The two of you stared deep into each other’s eyes, slowly moving in closer until your lips brushed against each other, but before you could get any closer, you pulled back.

“Wait…wait,” you breathed. “I’m really want to, but I don’t wanna move too fast, y’know?”

“No, no…I get it, I totally do.”

“Believe me, I want to so bad, but…I just don’t want you to leave.”

He furrowed his brows. “Wha-…Why would I leave, Y/n?”

“Because everyone else does. Every time I meet someone nice, I get pretty generous and give it up within the first couple of days and then never hear from them again. I just don’t want that with you.” You explained, cradling yourself.

Vinnie sighed, wrapping an arm around you. He gave you a comforting smile and pulled you into his side.

“Y/n, I like you so much, I didn’t even think it was possible to like someone so much. So, regardless of whether or not we do anything, I have no plans on dipping anytime soon. Heck, I tend to be pretty generous too.”

You smirked to yourself. Never once has someone made you feel so secure, so warm inside. You knew Vinnie was definitely the one, and you also knew that you wanted him here and now. Without a thought about, you straddled him—much to his surprise. You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before attaching your lips to his. As expected, the kiss was better than you ever could’ve imagined. All you could focus on was how amazing his lips felt against yours. It was like they were sculpted for each other. Not to mention, his were so soft, it made you nearly faint at the slightest touch.

His hands gripped your waist tightly, causing you to whimper in pleasure. Your lips then found their way to his cheek, to his jawline, and then ended at the base of his neck. He groaned and moaned, wrapping his muscular arms around your frame. You continued to nip at his neck, all while steadily grinding in his lap.

“Oh my god,” he breathed against your ear. You mentally smiled at this and kept up with what you were doing.

Poor Vinnie felt helpless against you. Never had been with someone who could make him feel the way he felt with you. It was as if he was merely nothing but putty in your hands. And he like it.

He swallowed a large lump in his throat, feeling himself nearing the edge as you proceeded to roll your hips. He couldn’t help it, he knew the longer you worked your magic, the sooner he would burst.

And that’s exactly what he did.

Though, as he practically creamed his drawers, the doorbell rang. You immediately stopped what you were doing and hopped off of Vinnie. To his dismay, he glanced down at the crotch of his jeans to find a small dark spot. With a groan, he tried rubbing his hand against it, hoping the spot would go away.

You were completely oblivious to what was going on with the boy. You had adjusted yourself and then ran to open the door, revealing none other than your grinning parents.

“Mom, dad!?” You squealed as they pulled you into a hug.

Vinnie nearly lost his shit as he heard those names leave your mouth. What the hell could your parents be doing here, especially at this hour of night. “This can’t get any worse,” he thought to himself.

“I thought you guys weren’t coming back until tomorrow?” You said as you led your parents into your living room.

“Well, we were but your father’s job called, and we had to leave earlier than expected.” Your mom spoke. Her eyes went around the room before landing on Vinnie, who now sat cross-legged on your coach. “Y/n, who’s your little friend?” she smiled.

“Oh, this is Vinnie!” You laughed.

Your dad stepped up beside you sticking his hand out at Vinnie. “Y/f/n Y/l/n,” your dad greeted, obviously trying to intimidate Vinnie.

Instead of getting up to shake his hand, Vinnie remained seated with his arm out. The distance between the two wasn’t small enough for him to reach, and knowing your dad, he wasn’t about to move. Once Vinnie figured this out, he retracted his arm and shook his head.

“U-uh, nope. I’m not really a, uh, a handshaker. You know, germaphobe and all of that.” said Vinnie. “I’m sure you guys are uh…tired and worn out from your flight. You should, um, take a seat and…stuff.”

You and your family stared at the boy in confusion for a minute. After a few seconds of awkward silence, your mom took a seat at the end of the couch.

“Germaphobe.” Your dad huffed to himself, sitting next to Vinnie.

You contained your embarrassment—not only for Vinnie, but for yourself—and sat down in the armchair. Vinnie began at attempting to make small talk, hoping that he could still win your parents over, but that was cut short when Mac found his way over to Vinnie. The large dog began sniffing at the stain as if he was smelling a homecooked meal.

“Oh no, Mac.” Vinnie whined.

You and your family watched in bewilderment as the dog proceed to growl during his sniff session.

“Mac.” Your dad said, snapping at him to get his attention.

Trying to push Mac away didn’t help either in Vinnie’s case; Mac was too determined to get to the bottom of what he was smelling. So, doing the only thing he could do, Vinnie stood up onto your couch and stepped over your parents. Reaching the end, he hopped off and turned to look at the frowning couple.

“I, uh…thank you for having me. This has been really great.” He said, turning to look at you. “Goodnight.”

And with that, the boy rushed out of your apartment, nearly tripping over himself along the way. You could do nothing but look at your parents with a worried grin.

“That’s, uh…that’s Vinnie for you.” You chuckled.

#vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie x reader #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x reader

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 3 years

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IOTA Reviews: Wishmaker

Goddamn it...

It's bad enough Astruc tastelessly axed Lukanette, but now he just had to show up to give a sarcastic eulogy at the funeral.

Let's get into the fourteenth (chronologically the eighteenth) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Wishmaker

Right out of the gate, we get a “Chloe bad” joke with her insulting Marinette for being poor or whatever as she hands out flyers for an upcoming career fair. Chloe doesn't have much of a role in the episode, but she will be important towards the end, trust me. We also get a funny “Marinette stares lovingly at Adrien” joke while she sees him, so it's good the writers are at least trying to get their strange habits out of their systems now instead of later.

While reading over the flyer in his room, Adrien ponders a possible career as he doesn't want to keep being a model.

(The episode came out in English first, so I'm just going to be using quotes instead of screenshots of subbed scenes for this review)

Plagg: Don't you wanna continue to model?

Adrien: I don't think so, Plagg. I'm doing it now because my father asked me to. But now I realize I don't know what I'd want to do. I've never asked myself that question.

This is a really interesting dilemma for Adrien. Unlike other episodes that just have him feel sad for entirely superfluous reasons like Ladybug turning him down or generally moping about his mom, it feels like something you can really understand. He genuinely isn't sure what he wants to do with his life because he's had everything chosen for him before. I also like the use of the English dub saying Adrien modeled because his father asked him to, as if he couldn't actually say no. I also like how Adrien is still starting to lose faith in Ladybug for giving out Miraculous to everyone, which makes even more sense after his view of her was shaken in the previous episode chronologically, “Rocketear”. I also like how Plagg suggests ideas for a career for Adrien, like the two of them opening up a cheese shop together, which shows how Plagg cares for Adrien and wants what's best for him, ultimately highlighting how healthy their relationship is. He's almost like a big brother who gives advice to Adrien, even if it isn't the most sound advice at times.

On the other hand, Marinette already knows what she wants to do with her life, but the Kwamis start to argue over what she actually means by it by saying they know what she wants to do, a painfully accurate metaphor for the writers dictating Marinette's actions no matter how inconsistent they are.

Pollen: What's a career, dear Guardian?

Marinette: Oh. Well, it's... your job! Something really important that you do and gives meaning to your life!

Roaar: Oh! So, your job is being the Guardian of the Miraculous!

Mullo: Of course not! It's being a student!

Xuppu: Not at all! It's making presents for Adrien!

Marinette:Well...

Longg: She said “something important”, like when she crafted the big doll house to hide the Miracle Box!

Wayzz: Or when she designed the alarm for this room! What a masterpiece!

Marinette: Sure, I love crafting but—

Ziggy: You guys don't get it! What gives meaning to her life is to be in love with Adrien, or Luka, that's her job!

Fluff: Luka's the one with the guitar, right?

Kaalki: Her real career is being Ladybug and carve her name in history by her glorious deeds, of course!

Of course, their bickering somehow makes Marinette realize she isn't sure what she wants to do in the future after all.

We then cut to a reality show hosted by TV personality, Alec Cataldi. He's generally an asshole to the people on the shows he hosts and takes pleasure in humiliating or just being a dick to them, making you wonder how he still gets work with that attitude. Basically, he's the Alec Baldwin of the Miraculous Ladybug universe. The current show he's hosting is one where he roasts people for their jobs, making Andre a target by pointing how counterproductive his “business” is.

Alec: Here's a perfect example: Andre, the Ice Cream Maker, the ice cream man that is never around! Let me remind you how this goes: Andre doesn't have a shop, no one knows where he is, it takes forever to find him, and he gets to pick a flavor of your ice cream! You've gotta be kidding, Andre! Give me one reason why I should bother to chase after you when I could get my choice of ice cream in any corner supermarket!

Andre: Well, people don't just come for ice cream when they find me. They come to share their love and experience of magical moments! A supermarket cannot do what I do! I am a creator of magical moments!

Alec: “Creator of magical moments?” You've gotta be kidding!

I'm pretty sure that's what a lot of people thought of Andre when they first saw “Glaciator”. The idea behind Andre is that he chooses ice cream for you representing something about yourself, so he gives Alec a scoop of lime to represent his sour exterior and chocolate cinnamon to represent the dreams he still has within. Alec flinches a little at the ice cream, presumably because of how terrible of a combination that is, and decides to go to commercial to think.

Marinette talks to Andre about what he does, and he explains he used to be an office worker, with the only highlight of his days being making ice cream for himself after work. It eventually inspired him to quit his job and start making ice cream for everyone. It's a nice backstory, and I think a lot of people watching who are struggling to think about their future can relate to this like with the earlier scene with Adrien. It's also a nice touch for the flashbacks to reveal Andre has served ice cream to some of France's most famous couples.

(Jean Coutau and Jean Marais)

(Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin)

(Marion Cotillard and Guillaume Canet)

Granted, I'm wondering how old Andre is to have even met some of these people given Jean Cocteau died in 1963, but seeing how Master Fu is 186, I'm guessing the Miraculous Ladybug universe just has really good healthcare. Either that, or the people in this universe take Jay Kordich's diet very seriously.

Andre gives some ice cream to Marinette, who is soon joined by her ex-boyfriend who she never loved according to the writers. Actually, judging from her face when Luka talks about the very first guitar he made, the writers made another 180 regarding Marinette's feelings for Luka.

Of course, because the show wants to remind the audience Alec still exists, he makes fun of Luka for taking two years to perfect the delicate craftsmanship it takes to sculpt any instrument when you can just download an app on your phone. Your inner boomer is showing, writers, even if you were born after the time period for that generation. Luka retorts with some vague philosophical line he's known for that's one of the reasons why people are so mixed on him as a character

Luka: Musical instruments fill the space and space fills the instruments. No phone in the world will ever be able to do that.

Despite it being incredibly confusing, it gets to Alec, causing him to run off in tears. Luka and Marinette continue to talk, but it turns out that's Adrien decided to sit down nearby because of course he did. Though, like the last scene, it's a pretty interesting one as the three discuss what they want to do with their lives. There's also a really nice visual of a blimp with an ad Adrien was in passing by while Adrien talks about his father dictating his life, a really nice symbol. Of course, the scene is somewhat ruined by Luka suddenly deciding to be an Adrienette shipper.

Luka: You two will eventually find what's already in front of you, but you can't hear it clearly. Just let the melody flow.

He's referring to their uncertainty of their futures, but earlier on, Luka wanted to help Marinette be honest with her feelings about Adrien, and even before that, Andre was saying that Marinette and Luka didn't have to be in love to enjoy his magic ice cream. It's here when I realized this episode is subtly trying to end any chances of Lukanette still happening with so many little details. Right when the two spend time together, that's when they decided to help Adrien who showed up for no reason, preventing them from potentially coming to terms with their feelings for each other or at the very least discuss how hard it is to be friends with their history. And things only get more frustrating towards the end, where you'd swear someone decided to smother Lukanette with a pillow in its sleep.

Back to Alec, he's roasting a wig salesman (does he even have permission to film any of these people?) for his job, but as soon as the salesman puts a wig on him, Alec immediately gives us his life story.

Alec: When I was a kid, I used to have long hair, but everyone made fun of me. That's why I shaved it all off. I've been making the wrong choices my whole life. My TV shows are nothing personal. I make fun of people when they make fun of me when I was a kid. (Starts to tear up) I should've been the person I always wanted to be, trying to change the world instead of mocking it! (Falls on his knees) I've wasted my life!

I didn't paraphrase this at all. This is seriously what happened. He goes from mocking everyone he meets, to slightly doubting himself after seeing an ice cream vendor and a young musician, and then he starts having an existential crisis about his tragic backstory. It's not a bad idea, but if there was some more buildup in previous episodes, I'd understand. But this goes from confusing to straight out insulting towards the end. I'll get to that later on.

Shadowmoth notices Alec's emotions and akumatizes him into Wishmaker through his microphone.

Wishmaker has a pretty cool design. The grey skin color coupled with the mostly black outfit really highlights Alec's broken heart, and he looks pretty sinister. His powers... leave a lot to be desired. Like the name states, Wishmaker has the power to make everyone's childhood dreams come true, like this one guy's dream is to be Santa Claus, so he transforms into Saint Nick without any hitch. Wouldn't it make more sense if Wishmaker twisted the dreams of his victims like a genie and made them miserable while they ironically lived out their fantasies by twisting around their words? Instead, all of his “victims” seem pretty happy, which doesn't really do much to make him a threat in my opinion.

So the aforementioned Santa starts dropping presents like bombs near Marinette, Adrien, and Luka, and they're separated by a giant robot. Marinette quickly transforms into Ladybug, and gets Luka to safety, though as soon as she leaves, Luka goes to check on where he told Marinette to stay for safety, and doesn't see her there. Instead, he sees his deadbeat father (transformed into a crocodile) drowning and goes to save him.

Ladybug meets up with Cat Noir (who transformed off-screen) and the two easily incapacitate the robot before engaging Wishmaker, avoiding his blasts. Apparently, they'll get their secret identities revealed if they get hit, so Ladybug goes to get Luka to help out as Viperion while Cat Noir holds off Wishmaker. Ladybug goes to get Luka, leading to the funniest joke in the episode.

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She gives Luka the Snake Miraculous and he transforms into Viperion, immediately activating his Second Chance. For newcomers, Second Chance allows the user to set a point in time when activating it and if something goes wrong, they can go back to that checkpoint in up to five minutes. Ladybug also summons her Lucky Charm, a stuffed dinosaur toy.

Back with Cat Noir, as he engages Wishmaker, the Akuma starts to tempt him with the idea of living out his childhood dream, because he genuinely doesn't remember his. As Shadowmoth orders Wishmaker to use his powers on Cat Noir, Ladybug and Viperion show up, but in the chaos of the fight, Ladybug gets hit by Wishmaker, revealing her childhood dream as the “Knitting Fairy”, and exposes her identity to Viperion, who uses Second Chance to undo the timeline.

In the new timeline, Cat Noir's vulnerability gets to him, so he willingly lets himself get his by Wishmaker, not only exposing his identity as Adrien, but tragically reveals his childhood dream, to be whatever his parents wanted him to be. I feel like this works a lot better than some of the other moments where Cat Noir defied orders or screwed around on the battlefield because it's clearly framed as a moment of weakness on his part, and it was naturally built up over the course of the episode. The reveal of Adrien's childhood dream is a real gut punch too, as it shows just how much Adrien's life has been controlled by his family.

In the third timeline, Viperon deflects Wishmaker's blast meant for Cat Noir and redirects it toward a man whose childhood dream was to become a giant stuffed dinosaur. The stuffed dinosaur in question goes to give Wishmaker a hug, restraining him long enough for Ladybug to steal for Cat Noir to cataclysm (It's a microphone, how hard is it to break???) before she de-evilizes the Akuma. Ladybug uses Miraculous Ladybug to force everyone to stop living out their childhood dreams, she gives Alec a Magical Charm, and Luka decides not to tell Ladybug he knows both her and Cat Noir's secret identities. Why did Ladybug expect Luka not to know her identity when the whole reason she recruited him was to make sure nobody else found out her identity?

Now, while it isn't outright said, it's hinted at that now that Luka knows Marinette is Ladybug and Adrien is Cat Noir, judging from his dejected look after finding out the latter, he may be giving up on all attempts at the idea of getting back together with Marinette, and may or may not start shipping the Love Square now, just like how Kagami decided to ship Adrienette in “Mr. Pigeon 72”. I'm not saying the idea of Luka knowing someone's identity is bad, but it feels like this only happened specifically to stop him from having feelings for Marinette because now he knows Adrien loves her alter ego, and vice versa. Maybe it'll be touched upon in a later episode, but this was just a dick move by the writers in terms of ending all chances of Lukanette like this in order to ensure the Love Square has absolutely no competition.

So the episode ends with Marinette and Adrien deciding to focus on their futures while Alec starts a new show where he helps people live out their childhood dreams, albeit dressed like Style Queen for some reason.

Eh, he still picked a pretty cool Akuma to dress up as in my opinion. A lot of people have viewed this ending as evidence Alec is a drag queen with how he dressed up, coupled with the fact that he said something that was very similar to famous drag queen RuPaul.

Alec: And now, we're gonna love one another, starting with everyone loving themselves! Because how are you gonna love other people if you don't love yourself?

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Though Astruc, being Astruc, once again decided to be vague when asked about the subject on Twitter, though at least the subtext is better than when he said he didn't make Juleka and Rose girlfriends because of censors while making it seem like a noble act.

Overall, this was a really good episode, though there were some underlying issues that really kept me from actually liking it. For the most part, it had some good drama with the main character, a rare scene where Marinette didn't stammer around Adrien, a creative (albeit flawed) Akuma with some good action, and an interesting idea with Luka knowing everything about the Love Square now.

There are just two big problems that really got to me about this episode. Let's get the obvious one out of the way, Luka. Honestly, he really didn't need to be in the episode. Sure, he gave some sound advice to Marinette and Adrien about their careers, but it felt kind of strange to see someone their age talking to them about their future when Andre, someone who actually had experience struggling to figure out what he wanted to do with his life, was pushed to the side. And like I said earlier, I think the only reason Luka found out about Marinette and Adrien's identities was to discourage him from thinking about getting back together with Marinette. After all, now that he realizes how “made for each other” they are, he can't stand in the way of the Love Square.

The problem is that in the context of the episode, we don't really see what made him see things that way. At least in “Mr. Pigeon 72”, Kagami consistently viewed Marinette's attempts to get her and Adrien back together as a subconscious desire to be with Adrien. It was dumb with how she decided to go to Team Adrienette at the end of the episode, but it was something. I'm glad the episode didn't force in too many Love Square shenanigans, but I think more should have been done to contextualize Luka's feelings towards the reveal. I get the writers wanted to make sure Lukanette had no chance of coming back, but this just feels rushed.

And then there's Alec's redemption arc. While it's not a bad idea in concept, the problem is that it flies in the fact of a recurring theme this season, that being redemption. Because, here's the funny thing: Alec blatantly said he became an asshole TV personality because of his history of bullying, and decided to retaliate as a result, but he eventually saw the error of his ways and turned over a new leaf. For long time readers of this blog, I apologize for bringing this up yet again, but what exactly makes this different from everything Astruc said about Chloe? You know, when he said that you make your formative choices when you're fourteen? Just like how Alec decided to become a reality TV host making fun of people after a troubling experience from when he was a kid?

Let's say that I agree with Astruc's views about Chloe. How is Alec different from what Astruc's said about Chloe for almost two years at this point? What makes Chloe, someone who was the victim of a troubled childhood who never got help, an irredeemable monster while Alec, someone who also had a troubled childhood and had even more time to get help while never getting any, capable of change? I thought he Alec made a formative choice when he was young and stuck with it, just like how Chloe started to fully develop at the age of fourteen. I mean, Astruc, you yourself said that Chloe's troubled childhood “was no excuse to treat people like shit”, according to you.

I'm just saying, dude, if Chloe can't be redeemed because of the stuff you yourself said, then that shouldn't apply to Alec either. When you really think about it, it's almost like Astruc either made up a bunch of excuses to not redeem Chloe, or he's a massive hypocrite for going back on his word. You can't really justify this kind of hypocrisy relating to Alec's redemption when you remember just how much of a hardass Astruc was when explaining why redemption was impossible for Chloe.

This coupled with the treatment of Luka really drags this episode from really good to blatantly insulting to certain viewers. Then again, these two choices just got to me personally. I feel like if those two things weren't there, things could have made this episode a lot better for me personally. I can see why a lot of people in the fandom still like this episode, but I'm honestly not a fan of it.

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writingrose29 · 2 years

Text

Strangers (3/3)

Pairings: Steven Grant x Reader

Summary: When The Path Finally Diverge

TW: Mention of Animal Death, Murder, Attempted Assault, Reference Childhood Trauma/Childhood Abuse

Word Count: 6985

Strangers Masterlist

Ao3

Previous Chapter

Déjà Vu (Companion Piece/One-Shot Sequel)

Two Birds Masterlist

The rain had turned into a light drizzle as they walked down the dark Chicago streets. The small taps of the raindrops hitting the umbrella that his friend held in between them. He tried to offer to hold the umbrella, as it was the polite thing to do, but she merely smiled and shook her head.

The temperature had dropped significantly from the afternoon, the cool winds mixed with the rains caused him to shiver every so often while the woman seemed relatively unbothered by it. Though it seemed she was far more well prepared for the sudden cold front than he was.

They walked in an easy silence, one that is found between those who were comfortable enough to enjoy just the presence of the other. He just listened to the sound of the bustling city, another reminder that he was just another character in the grand scheme of things. Though he didn't mind the smallness of his existence, just walking by the side of his friend made him feel more important than he was.

"Do you have family here?" She asked, breaking the silence as she removed the tissue from her nose, tossing it in the nearby trash bin. Her head was tilted towards him. "Or are they all back in England?"

Steven shook his head, "No. Actually it's just my mum and me and she is usually out traveling the world yeah. Still make sure to check in on her though," his smile started to strain slightly, "She doesn't pick up though. But I'm sure she gets the messages or else the voicemail would be full, yeah."

He spared her a glance only to quickly look away. He saw the sympathetic look on her face, one that neared pity. He supposed that she was trying to make him feel better, yet it just made him feel pathetic. Only a bit, yet the feeling made his stomach twist and churn.

"She's probably busy, the time zones probably don't help."

Steven smiled perked up slightly as her words, the comfort they brought him helped a bit. Yet he didn't miss the hesitance in her tone, only confirming that she didn't really believe her own words. It was the intent that counts he supposed.

"It must be wicked, having siblings though," Steven switched the topic not wanting to discuss his relationship with his mother anymore, "Couldn't imagine. Only child here."

His friend smiled weakly and gave him a stiff nod. "Adoptive siblings," she lightly corrected, "And it was…something. We had our highs and lows, and we probably all considered killing one another at certain points but when it comes down to it I'm stuck with them as much as those morons are stuck with me."

Steven ah'd. He was about to ask how many her parents adopted before he remembered their conversation back at the diner. The coldness she had when discussing her father.

Any questions he had about her parents died before they were born. Instead he settled with twisting the folded piece of paper that rested within his pants pocket.

"It must be nice, being close to your mom," she mused, "I barely remember my parents."

Steven looked at her with soft eyes, "I'm sorry," he said earnestly, "It must've been hard losing your parents."

His friend merely snorted, causing him to recoil slightly in surprise. Before he could ask why she just shook her head.

"They're still alive," she paused for a moment, a considering look on her face, "Well. I think they are."

"But…" he trailed off, not fully sure how to voice his confusion.

"They got rid of me when I was like…four? Five? Whenever I got my ass handed to me by that dog." She glanced upwards at the umbrella. "Maybe six years old? In that general range."

Steven felt his jaw go slack, his mind rushing in an attempt to say anything yet he came up with nothing. All he could do was look at her in abject horror, as if he had the responsibility to be outraged for her.

"I was…shuffled around before ending up there," her voice took on a chilly edge at the end.

"I'm sorry."

Now she was looking at him in confusion, "What for?"

Steven shook his head, "You're parents, they…" he couldn't hide the disgust he felt, "They just tossed you like trash. No one should be treated like that, especially not a child?"

His friend quickly looked away from his stare. She remained quiet, forcing Steven to wonder if he said the wrong thing. If his words came off too strong or harsh.

"Thank you." The way she said those two words made his anxiety wash away for he never heard such sincerity in those two words.

Steven only nodded his head, not trusting himself to talk. He already had several close calls of mucking everything up, he didn't need to do it again.

It didn’t take long for things to fall apart.

"Hey there sweet thing!" A deep voice called out as they walked by two men who were resting against one of the many buildings. Steven felt himself stiffen as he linked her arm around his and continued their walk.

"Oh come on now, don't be shy." It was a different voice this time, unlike the one previously it came from in front of them.

"Oh you gotta be fucking kidding me," he heard her mutter under breath. Irritation clearly lacing every word.

"Now we don't want any problems, yeah? Just going on our way," Steven said, attempting to placate and prevent what he could tell was a growing issue.

"Don't want any problems," one of the men repeated, mocking his accent in a high pitched whine.

"Very clever moron, now why don't you three fuck off," his friend snapped.

One of the men stalked closer to them, beelining to the woman he had befriended. Steven stood slightly in front of her, shielding her with his body.

"Fiesty one eh. I wonder what else you can do with that tongue."

Before either he or his friend could say anything, the other two men started to crowd them. Forcing Steven to wrap his arm around the stranger's waist to usher her back, anything to gain more space from the three men. Sadly, it seemed to work more to their advantage as Steven realized they were being backed into an ally.

"How about you join us little thing. I'm sure the four of us can have a real fun time."

"Something tells me you wouldn't enjoy my version of a fun time," she replied dryly. Steven felt her shift slightly within his grasp, as if trying to move forward.

One of the men threw a lecherous grin towards her, "We'll see about that."

"No, we won't," she snapped again. Steven nodded his head, pushing down the growing fear and anxiety that was building up. Now wasn't the time to show fear.

"Now leave us bloody alone and things won't get ugly." Steven wished his voice hadn't trembled slightly when he said that. Even he nearly cringed at how weak his words were.

The punch to the face really shouldn't have been surprising. As he fell to the ground, the larger man getting another shot to his cheek followed by a gut punch, Steven could only search for his friend. His friend was now defenseless against two men that had towered over both of them.

He tried to fight back, getting a singular punch to the other man's cheek yet it seemed to barely affect him. In fact, it seemed to have injured him more than the monster of a man.

Steven noticed helplessly as the world around him started to fade to black. He couldn't pass out now, not when-

The large man who was getting ready to cave his face into the ground was shoved off him. As if an invisible wall was thrown towards him, causing him to fly back several feet. The sound of bones cracking and organs popping quickly followed and Steven could only look through his swollen eyes in horror as the spot where the man had landed was not a puddle of gore, teeth, and bile.

He turned his attention to where he last saw the stranger to see her eye staring blankly at the same spot. Her eyes were cold, as if this whole thing was an annoying inconvenience. She tilted her head towards the two men who were restraining her, her eyes morphing into a solid glowing white-gold. Suddenly the men released her as if the touch burned them. Steven watched, paralyzed, as the woman who he had laughed with, the woman who made his heart feel so much lighter than it had started, turned towards the two men. The way a predator would stalk towards their prey.

"Oh shit," one of the men whispered, pulling out his gun and shooting several shots into her. Steven yelled in horror as the bullets tore through her body, yet she did not fall. In fact she barely stumbled backwards. She continued to walk towards them, ignoring each bullet that made contact with her.

She grabbed their guns, only to reveal two sharp edge knives. Slowly she stepped backwards.

While Steven was unable to see what she was doing, he could see the fear and panic arise in the other men's eyes until their eyes turned hazy and milky.

He gasped as the two men started attacking each other. The blades dancing and stabbing the skin of their friend turned enemy. It was not a smooth fight, but instead reminded him of two feral beasts fighting for survival.

It wasn't long until one ended up with a knife lodged in his throat.

The hazy glazed look disappeared from the remaining man's eyes as he stared in horror at the body. If Steven hadn't just seen the man only several minutes ago, he would have had a hard time even determining what the man looked like from all the wounds.

"Please," the man begged. He turned his attention to Steven, crawling towards him with missing fingers and gouged out pieces of skin. "Please tell her to stop. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

The stranger grabbed her fallen umbrella, smacking the crawling man and sending the man's body several feet away. A painful howl tore from his throat, blood gasping his lips.

Steven wished to yell at her to stop, to end this horror. Yet he couldn't move, not his body, not his mouth. If it weren't for the constant pulsating pain he would've thought he was just a third party observer.

"Don't worry," she said, her voice once again coming out like static, "I won’t kill you."

Steven watched as the man looked relieved for a split second before he looked down at his body in horror. A scream escaped his lips as he grabbed the knife from the neck of the man he had just killed and started stabbing himself all over his body. As if trying to stab some unseeable creature that lurked on or within his body. He started with his legs, before making his way up to his face.

Steven nearly threw up when he watched the man stab himself through the ear, promptly toppling over. He stared at him, waiting for him to move, but remained still.

The stranger now returned her attention towards him, her eyes no longer that eerie white-gold color.

She took a step forward, he recoiled away.

He saw a flash of hurt cross her fate before resignation. She held up her hands, crouching down to join him at his eye level. Like she was trying to comfort a petrified animal.

Steven internally snorted, it wasn't far from how he felt.

"You're injured," she pointed out softly, "Probably a couple broken ribs. Maybe a slight concussion."

She tried to take another step forward, but stopped the moment Steven shook his head.

"Don't," he spoke loudly, "don't come closer."

She sighed, taking a seat on the ground while keeping her distance from him.

"If you don't let me help you, you will go into shock. Probably not good with those injuries."

He shook his head, "I don't need help from you. I…I just need to get out of here." He tried to push himself up, ignoring the igniting pain that flared up in his body. He barely managed to stand up when his legs gave out from underneath him.

Before he could topple to the ground, he felt two arms gently hold him up before helping him back to the ground. He stared at the stranger with fearful eyes, his heart pounding in his chest.

"If…if you try anything I'll punch you. I can throw a good punch."

She raised her eyebrows, "Yeah, I saw." Gently she touched the side of his forehead with one hand and his swollen eye with the other, a burning sensation tingled at her touch. He went to swing at her but she swiftly caught his wrist, forcing him to touch his forehead.

Steven's eyes widened as he felt skin. No cuts, no gashes, just skin. Swiftly he felt his eye only to miss the swollen bump he knew should've been there. He forcibly blinked, his vision rapidly recovering.

"Can I heal your ribs now?"

"...You…you aren't going to hurt me?"

She stared at him, as if he had grown three heads. At this point, he wouldn't have been surprised if he had.

"Of course not," she sounded as if the idea itself was preposterous. As if she didn't just massacre three giant men. "Why would I do that? Especially after I just fixed your face?"

He glanced at the bodies. Well the two bodies and the pile of bile. The urge to vomit was growing again.

"They hurt you," she stated plainly.

"So you had to kill them?"

"One technically committed murder-suicide."

He stared at her, mouth agape at her words, of the nonchalance of her tone. How was this the same person he spent the day with?

She sighed, bringing her hands to his ribcage.

"Yes," she answered as the burning sensation came back, "So I killed them."

She glanced over his face, touching his forehead slightly, moving one of his misplaced curls away from his forehead before dragging her finger down to his cheek lightly. "No need to swap out, I only want to talk to you."

Her words made no sense to him, yet she didn't elaborate. Instead she shook her head at his confused expression, stepping away from him and heading to the bodies.

Steven watched as she stiffly walked, how she nearly stumbled with each step like her legs were boneless. Her hands were on the wall, most likely being the only thing keeping her sturdy. She waved her hand over the corpses and the gruesome mess where the bile rested, each one turning into dust that was carried into the wind as if nothing happened here.

The only proof that three murders were committed only lived on in their memory.

"Like dust in the wind," she mused, her voice hoarse. She rested her head on the opposite alley wall, coughing harshly. Her body continued to shiver and Steven was starting to doubt that it was from the cold. Her skin seemed pasty, a sheen layer of sweat covering her. He glanced at where her body should've been riddled with bullet holes only to spot none. The only proof it was her torn up outfits and the coating of blood.

"How did you do that? All of that?"

The stranger shrugged, her body trembling. "Born with it I guess."

"A mutant, just…just like what was on the telly." He spoke mostly to himself, shifting his gaze away from the sickly stranger. His brain started turning, as if he was figuring out a puzzle and he finally found the last piece to it.

His mind flashed back to the news coverage, the images of the decimated school. The dark blood that stained the charred walls and floors.

"You…you said you were here for a job didn't you?" He spoke slowly, watching as the woman bent down, placing her hands on her knees. Her breathing came out haggard and he was sure he could see her muscles straining.

He didn't wait for her to respond, he was almost positive she wasn't going to anyways.

"You killed those nuns, those teachers. Didn't you?" The accusation was met with silence.

"You slaughter them, just like you did to those three men," his pitch was rising in hysterics, his heart rapidly pounding in his chest.

"We are not having this discussion again," she spat out, her face contronting into a painful expression briefly.

Steven felt as if ice water had been doused all over him. "Again?" He uttered, "What do you mean again?"

Her eyes widened before she snapped them closed, biting her lip harshly. Her fingers rubbing her temples as she refused to answer him.

Yet for him that was an answer within itself.

"Did you do something to my mind," he all but shouted, panicking, "Oh god you've been in my mind all day haven't you. Just like you did to those chaps. I thought I was going crazy."

"Shut up," she hissed, her fingers moving quicker.

"No, you don't get to do that," he pointed at her, his finger trembling, "You can't control me or what I do, not anymore."

"Shut up, shut up, shut up," her words were quiet and quick. Her breathing was rapidly increasing.

Steven went to speak again, to tell her off for committing such a violation when he noticed how the world around started shaking. The bricks of the alley walls seemed to creak and bend near her. The ground forming cracks beneath her feet, moving outwards at a rapid pace. The air around him felt electric, as if static was slowly building up and about implode.

He glanced at his arm with surprise as he watched all the hairs stick up. Quickly he brought his hands to his hair only to feel that same static pulsating around.

Steven slowly looked back at the stranger, eyes wide in shock as he watched an aura of violet appear around her body, as it slowly pulsated forward engulfing everything in its path.

"Hey," his voice came out weakly, "Stop this, why don't you."

She didn't respond, she wasn't even looking at him anymore.

"Hey," he repeated, "I don't like this. Stop please."

The street lights were flickering rapidly, he could see the same happening to several apartment buildings through the windows.

When he got no response he shifted tactics, desperate to stop what was going on.

"I'm sorry, yeah, for my words. I…didn't mean to upset you. Just a bit angry, that's all. But you can't exactly blame me. After everything that has happened-"

S̴̫̰̬̩͈̖̼̠̱̗̘̬̏̀̆̍̕ẖ̸̩͚̾u̷̹̠̦̝̼̼̝̩̯̮̝̎́̇̊̋͂̕͜ţ̸͎̻̫͈̯̥̠̞̝̅͂̈̉̈́̃̑̏́͝͠ ̷̧̨̙̙͙̣̼͚̠͌̈́̚ͅų̴̦̺͔͙͔̽̏̎͌̃̈́͒̓̕͘̕ͅp̵̛̥̘̝̞̘̳̺̊̃͐́̿̐̎͂͆̏̚͜

Her eyes met his, those glowing white-gold eyes, and he felt a sharp tingling in his skull.

He went to speak, yet his mouth refused to move. It was as if his jaw was locked shut. In a panic he grasped his lips, his fingers trying to claw their way in between his lips as to pry his mouth open.

Yet before his nails could cut through his lips, he felt a wave of ease wash over him, removing any sense of panic. Why was he worrying in the first place? His hands limply fell to his side as he let himself nearly drown in the sea of calmness that filled his mind.

He watched as the stranger stared at him with those glowing eyes, watched as they widened and she gasped in horror.

Suddenly the tingling sensation had disappeared, as if it was never there in the first place. The intoxicating calmness was gone, leaving only a sense of confusion and mild panic.

The biggest relief was when he opened his mouth, his jaw slightly popping.

"What-" he glanced around in a daze, "What did you do?"

He stared at her terror and guilt stricken face, her eyes back to normal as she held her hands up. She attempted to take a step backwards, to put as much distance between herself and him only to collapse under her own weight.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice trembling, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to, I'm sorry"

Steven watched as she curled herself up, her continuous muttering of apologies filling the night as she yanked at her hair. He tried to muster the righteous anger that had taken hold of him prior but as he watched her, this woman that had previously oozed a lackadaisical type of confidence regressed into an almost childlike state of terror and shame, he couldn't. Instead he just felt pity, the urge to comfort her despite what just happened.

Why should he beat someone while they were down, when they seemed no more than a terrified animal.

"Hey, hey, hey," he soothed, crouching down. "It's okay." It wasn't, not close, and it seemed she saw through his lie as well.

As he slowly made his way towards her, he watched as she peaked a glance at him. A gasp escaped his lips as he saw blood not just gushing from both nostrils, but from her eyes as well. Her skin took on an ashy ill coloring, causing the deep crimson coloring of the blood to pop out even more.

She shuffled back into the wall even more, like a wounded prey trying to escape the predator looming over them. Before he could try to reassure her, she leaned over and puked.

For the third time thus far did the feeling of absolute horror come over him as he watched the stranger puke not food, but blood.

He couldn't stop the wince as the thick iron smell permeated the air.

"Oh bloody hell," he muttered as he rushed towards her. She weakly tried to move anyway, shaking her head, yet he just rubbed her back softly.

He froze slightly as she flinched away from his touch, her body growing tense. "Is it okay if I touched you?" He asked softly, guilt adding to the melting pot of mixed emotions within him.

She looked at him with bloody tears, a look of confusion on her face.

"Why?" She croaked out, her breath smelling like rust. "Why are you still here?"

Why are you helping me? Was the unasked question he figured.

Her words struck him. Why was he still here, helping out a stranger who had killed three people, who had been playing mind games with him like he was just an object of entertainment.

He should be running, calling the bobbies to inform them of what just happened.

But he couldn't.

Maybe it was the fact he remembered the kindness she showed him, even if it was most likely fake. Or the fact that she did save his life, or even the remorse and horror she showed.

All he really knew was that he couldn't abandon her, or anyone really, in the state that she was in. He would-he could never be that cruel.

"You need help." Was the only thing he could think of.

The stranger merely stared at him as if he had grown three heads, and he wouldn't be surprised if he did after everything that he had seen today.

Slowly she nodded her head, bloodied tears streaming down her face as she returned to put her head in between her legs.

Her body still tensed and flinched when he placed his hand on her back. He waited until he felt the tension ease before once again rubbing circles on her spine.

"Is…" he cleared his throat, "Is that normal?"

"The nose? Yes." He could hear how tired she was, as if every word took out so much energy from her.

She didn't need to say anything more, the implication was clear enough for him.

"We should get you to a hospital yeah?"

The stranger shook her head, "I'll heal. I always do."

He thought back to the lack of bullet holes and nodded reluctantly. Instead he just sat by her side, continuing to soothe her gently.

It was then he noticed how everything around them seemed untouched, as if nothing had happened here. He wondered if the people around them even cared about how their seizuring lights had suddenly stopped or if they just moved on without a care in the world of what it could've meant.

It felt like an eternity had passed as they sat in the dirty alleyway, with her constant trembling and his helplessness on what to do. Yet he decided to trust her for it seemed she knew what was best on how to deal with this.

Slowly she looked up at her, her face returning to a healthier shade, the blood now appearing brownish as it died under her eyes and down her cheeks.

He raised his hand slowly, allowing her to register it before gently rubbing off the dried blood to the best of his ability.

"Sorry that we don't have another napkin," he muttered.

She smiled weakly, "It's fine. Thank you."

With tired eyes she rested her head on his shoulder. He tensed slightly before relaxing under her touch. The unease wasn't completely gone; however, he couldn't get over the violation of his mind. How easily she was able to control his movements.

"I didn't mean to. I shouldn't have slipped. I should've been better."

He combed his finger through her hair, his fingers gently detangling the knotted curls.

"I know, I know." He really didn't. In fact he had no clue what really happened.

"Xavier said it is something about energy. Or maybe it was electric fields? I tend to zone out whenever he lectures me." Her words were soft, the hoarseness was nearly gone yet he could still hear the strain in her voice.

"Did you read my mind?" His voice betrayed him, showing the terror that he was desperately trying to contain.

She shook her head, "You look like a confused puppy. Guess I can't blame you on that front. It's been a night."

Her words only brought some relief.

"Is…is all that bleeding common?"

"No, it could be due to lack of use or…" she trailed off as she chewed her bottom lip. "I'll just ask Hank when I get to New York. Just to check."

She removed herself from his grasp, Steven ignored the disappointment and longing that he felt the moment her warmth disappeared.

"The kids are safe by the way," she glanced at him, "Left them at a neutral party's place. No need for them to get into any political mess, not after what they've been through."

He let out a sigh of relief, even if that did just confirm how she massacred an entire teaching staff.

"I'll answer any questions you have," she continued, "only until we reach a hotel or motel. I owe you that much, and more, after…" she glanced down at her feet.

"You…you still are going to walk with me?"

She shrugged, "As you said, gotta balance my scale."

"I don't think helping me find a hotel will be enough for that." The words left his mouth before he could properly register them, wincing at the harshness they carried. Yet she just laughed, not a full body laugh but more of an amused chuckle.

"Yeah, you're right bout that. But I've probably been damned since the day I was born." She walked forward, the strength that had dissipated seemed to have come back to her. She grabbed her umbrella, using it as a cane.

"You, you shouldn't say that. That can't be true."

She raised her eyebrows at him, "Did you know," she spoke slowly, "That in the late 1990s, near the end of June. Over one hundred people died in one night at a hospital."

His eyes widened as he shook his head. She continued to stare at him, holding out her hand to help him up. He grasped it, allowing her to yank him forward and back on his feet.

"They said it was a freak power outage, hit the generators too," she continued as they walked out of the alleyway, "An unforeseeable tragedy."

Her umbrella tapped against the sidewalk, echoing in the nearly emptied street. Steven remained silent, unsure where the story was heading and whether he should say anything at all.

"8:35 at night, all those people died the moment I had my first cry. I guess being born was traumatic enough for me to fuck up the electricity of a couple blocks," she side eyed him, "I think that would constitute being born damned."

Steven shook his head, "But…you were just an infant. You, you couldn't possibly understand what you have done, what you were doing."

"Tell that to the families of the dead."

Steven closed his mouth, biting his tongue to stop himself from starting an argument. While she had a point, his mind was stuck on the fact she was only a baby. A newly born infant who was just introduced into a scary new world. How could she blame herself for something like that.

"Though, it wasn't like I set my mom on fire when I was born," she mused.

"I'm sorry what?"

"My brother Adrian, he set the entire hospital room on fire when he was born. The old bastard took him in the moment he heard of it."

"Are all your siblings mutants?"

She nodded her head, "That was the reason he collected us. Why, I'm not sure and I don't care to find out. I don't think any of us do."

His mind shifted back to her parents, "Is that why they gave you up?" He shut his mouth the moment the question left his lips, his eyes wide in horror. "I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that."

The woman shrugged, though he could see the tension in her body. "Yeah it was. I think it became dormant after the hospital incident and then the dog attack happened. Something about it just turned it back on and it just never turned off," she took a deep breath, "It took awhile for them to get rid of me. I wouldn't let them."

"You wouldn't let them?" He gave her a questioning look.

"You'd be surprised how much power the brain has over your actions, your thoughts, your emotions. Over everything really."

A shiver danced over his body as he thought back to the alleyway. The hazy eyes of the two men. He wondered if his eyes had the same glossy sheen over them.

"I didn't know what I was doing, I just wanted to stay with my parents. To keep the idea of a happy family." A distant look grew in her eyes, as if she was lost in thought.

Steven couldn't bring himself to ask anything more about that topic. Something about it seemed too personal, too raw for him to have any knowledge of. The remorse in each of her words added to the conflicted feeling that stayed within him. It was difficult to feel only anger towards her, over something she did not choose to have and seemed to have very little control of.

"I once removed my brother's consciousness and placed in one of those plasma orbs," she spoke suddenly and fondly.

Steven whipped his head towards her, befuddled at both the rapid change of topic and the topic she picked. "I'm sorry what? He couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it.

She had a small little smirk, "In my defense, he mutilated both my hair and my sister's. And this was after he shoved me down a couple flights of stairs like the little cheat he was. And in my defense, I wasn't expecting it to work but boy it was so worth the punishment."

"Blimey! What-how can you say that so nonchalantly?"

"It's just sibling things and besides I put him back together." Her smile had returned and he found himself pleased that happiness was a good look on her.

"Was that one of the low moments you mentioned?"

She shook her hand, "Nah. I would consider that pretty average."

"Average?" He sputtered, "Bloody hell, what would be considered low?"

She paused her walking, causing Steven to stumble slightly. He watched as a look of consideration rested on her face.

"Sorry," she said after a moment, "Was trying to think of one of the more minor low points." She continued on with her fast paced walking, swinging the umbrella anxiously.

"Sir Hops-A-Lot was a big one. He was this little bunny we uh…rescued from a pet store. Cutest little guy. Black and white spots, big floppy ears. We all fell in love with it the moment we saw it."

She cleared her throat, staring at the moon for a moment before returning her stare towards him. His eyes never left her, almost entranced by her words. For a moment he thought he was before realizing he did not feel any static or tingling sensation.

"We weren't allowed to have any pets, our father," she rolled her eyes at the term, "considered them needless distractions. So we kept him on the downlow. Always moving him around the house. For a while we thought we were clever, getting away with it right under his nose."

She exhaled sharply.

"You…you don't have to continue with the story," Steven said lightly, "If you don't want to." A part of him wished that she didn't for he was sensing he wasn't going to like the ending. "But, I am just a stranger, yeah? No judgment here."

"We had a bad week, lots of failures and punishments for being a collective disappointment for him. The usual. One night we all got wasted. Stole from some liquor store that Allen usually got his supplies from. Nothing kills the edge and numbs the pain like underage drinking, pretty sure that was Allen's motto."

She shook her head, "Next day was hell. We were all hungover, except for Allen who usually was in a constant state of being inebriated. I remember us stumbling to the meeting room, all dressed up picture perfect as we were supposed to. We were waiting for what felt like hours until Dad came down, holding the rabbit by the scruff of his neck."

Steven felt his stomach plummet, his brow furrowing in concern.

"He went on a lecture, how he decided to let us keep up the charade with the rabbit as long as it didn't affect our training and how he was unsurprised about the result. And then he pulled out his stupid fucking gun," she paused when Steven inhaled sharply, "I remember how he pointed it at the rabbit's face. It's dark eyes staring at all of us, not having a clue what was happening. I can remember how we were all frozen in horror, how Kiara nearly gasped but managed to stop herself by biting her lip. And then he turned his attention to me."

" 'You have til the count of three to stop me', he said. Then he started counting."

Steven placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it slightly.

"I tried but I couldn't. I really did try," she glanced downwards for a brief second before sighing, "We had rabbit for dinner that night. He made sure we cleaned our plates. I think most of us threw up that night the first chance we got. Then there was the whole blame game and," she waved her hand.

"I'm so sorry, I couldn't…I can't even imagine," he stumbled over his words, his tongue felt like putty in his mouth.

"It's the past. There were worse moments."

"Worse?" He exclaimed. She merely shrugged.

"I guess it was better than the Re-Education Schools and Centers. Barely, but I guess that's something. Like…he fed us?"

"Oh he did the bare minimum, give him a bloody medal."

His friend snorted, a fact he took pride in. His mind drifted back to the mention of the Re-Education Center, and decided perhaps it was okay what she did. That while he did not exactly agree with it, he wasn't going to preach morality to her. Not on that.

"I think you were going too kind with calling him an old bastard."

"Yeah, the term I usually use isn't for polite company."

"Well, now I'm curious."

She merely shook her head, a small smirk on her lips.

A sense of peace grew within him and he hoped that she felt it too. Steven watched as she stared into the night sky, a small smile on her lips.

He truly hoped that she felt some type of peace.

The walk to the first hotel that had "Vacancy" lit up in the darkness was an uneventful one considering what had happened earlier.

Instead of pressing her for more information, he decided to digest what she had told him.

There was one question he wished he had asked, if only to have what he believed to be refuted.

Why did she tell him anything? Him, a complete stranger who could easily call the bobbies on her. Him, who saw too much.

"Well," she mused, "This is where we part." She tilted her head at him, "Toss me your wallet."

He threw her a confused glance but decided to listen anyway. He watched as she opened it, her finger lightly grazing the inside before throwing it back to him.

"What-"

"You'll see." She took a step towards him, a sad smile on her lips.

"You're going to make me forget," he muttered, glancing at his shoes before making direct eye contact, "Aren't you?"

He wished for her to refute him, to vehemently deny his accusation. But she didn't, she just nodded her head.

"Was…was this always your plan?" He felt betrayed, how could he not. He just felt like some pawn in a game he wasn't aware he was playing.

"It was a toss up," she admitted, "It was why I was doing slight editing throughout the day. I didn't want to mess with your head, especially with everything going on up in there. But I don't really have a choice after what happened."

He scoffed, "Well you can choose not to. My lips are sealed."

She nodded, "I know. But any lip can be loosened and I have others to think of, you included with that." Her gaze drifted off, a small winced appearing on her face as if an unpleasant thought crossed her mind.

Steven shoved his hands back into his pant pockets, sharply inhaling as his fingers lightly grazed the loose piece of paper that he had forgotten.

"Wait," he said, holding his hand out with the paper stuck in between his fingers. "Uh, here. Have this. I meant to give you this earlier but…" he trailed off, shoving the paper into her hands.

He watched as she unfolded it, her brows furrowing as she glanced over it.

"It's my number," Steven explained lamely, shifting his weight between his feet, "You said no names, but nothing about phone numbers so I thought…" he cleared his throat, "You don't have to call it or anything. Just something to remind you of me if you are ever in London yeah. Well that is if you ever want to go to London, or even want to meet up again."

She smiled, folding the paper back up and placing it inside her jacket pocket.

"If our paths ever cross again, I will seek you out. Maybe even give you my name."

"Pinky promise?" He held up his pinky, his cheeks warm up under her gaze.

She grasped his pinky with her own, "Pinky promise."

She took another step towards him, until they were around an inch or two apart. "You are a good guy," she whispered in his ear, "Stay safe okay."

Before he could respond, she kissed his cheek.

Steven felt his body almost melt under her, as he wished to pull her into him, to engulf her lips with his. The smell of roses from her perfume engulfed his senses until he once again felt a burning sensation on the temple of his forehead.

Steven opened his eyes to be meeted with darkness. In a daze he turned around releasing a relieved sigh when his eyes caught the Hotel sign.

The lady at the front desk was curt with him, though he couldn't blame her as he did show up with no reservation and in the dead of night. He was glad she didn't question the shock he was sure he shown on his face when he realized how many hundred dollar bills his wallet contained.

Instead she seemed pleased, handing him his room key and going back to her miniature TV that was playing some type of soap opera.

The room was nice, good for a short stay. It was an odd pale mustard yellow coloring that made it seem dated but it covered the essentials. Plus he would be leaving for London as soon as he could.

Steven collapsed onto the bed, shifting at the firmness of the mattress. Quickly he flipped open his phone, dialing up the only number he ever called.

"Hey Mum, just wanted to let you know I found a place to stay. It's a bit small, but fine enough. I uh, I met a kind elderly couple in the park. They gave me some suggestions of where to eat and where I could find a place to stay. Decided to head to this American diner, it was fine for what it was. But yeah, nothing very eventful…just wanted to let you know I'm alright," he yawned, "I'll call you tomorrow yeah. Take care."

It wasn't long for him to drift off to sleep, the smell of roses that lingered on his clothing only made it easier.

#steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x fem!reader #steven grant/reader #steven grant/fem!reader #moon knight fanfiction #moonknight fanfiction

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junko-and-riri-domain · 3 years

Text

count us in | pjs

↬ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ: tatts & cupcakes | chapter 7

↬ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: park jongseong / jay x reader ft. all members + eventual appearance of i-land k

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i think that it was @bbangwu who said something along the lines of jay & k talking outside the bakery after k left so:

{\ /} ( • - •) /> 🧁 here’s a cupcake from the bakery for you :)

Jay couldn’t sleep for two reasons. The first was clearly obvious with how you were laying on top of him, your head resting in the crook of his neck. The feeling of your breathing so close to him sent shivers down his spine and butterflies to his stomach. Your presence gave him the same feeling Jungwon’s daily teasing and Sunoo’s smile did. Your presence made him forget about all the pent-up resentment, anger, and shame he’s had within him his whole life. So he kept his arms wrapped around you as he stared up at the ceiling. He told himself that if he let go, you’d fall off the couch. But deep down, he didn’t want to let go. He knew that for the next few hours, you had granted him the privilege of your trust by falling asleep on him. He wanted to hold you every night like this if he could, mind racked with daydreams and imagines. Maybe he’d come home from work one late night after the boys’ bedtime. He’d go to check up on Sunoo, Jungwon, and Ni-ki to see them in their bed already asleep. Maybe you’d still be awake, spending some time in the kitchen baking new recipes for the bakery. Music would be playing on a low volume to not wake up the boys and you’d dance together while the scent of freshly baked cupcakes filled the air. Or maybe you’d be asleep. He’d settle into bed and you’d turn around to cuddle with him the same way you were right now. He was brought out of his thoughts as he felt you move slightly,

“Jay?” he heard you whisper.

“Mhm, love?” It slipped out faster than he could realize what he had just said. Your eyes were still close meaning that you were probably in dreamland right now.

“That makes me feel fuzzy inside,” you muttered.

“Bad fuzzy?” you shook your head,

“Good fuzzy.”

The conversation ended there, he closed his eyes and tried the best he could to control his breathing. You were driving him crazy. But the second reason why he couldn’t sleep? K. And that drove him even crazier. He needed to talk to you about two things when you woke up, the kid’s conversation and his conversation with K. Whatever little respect he previously had for K vanished hours ago.

«««

After Sunghoon came, he rushed to the car and made his way to the ras bakery. Once there, the sight the greeted his eyes broke his heart. You were sitting at a table, clearly crying and upon seeing who was leaving he instantly knew the cause.

“Hey,” he said as he glared at K. K stopped in his tracks, looking at Jay with disbelief written all over his face.

“What, did she ask you to come get her or something? Why the hell are you here?”

“Why is she crying?”

“You’re not her boyfriend, what does it matter to you?” K’s words stung more than Jay wanted to admit but despite that, he stayed silent. Arms across his chest as the two ended up in a staring match to which K was the one to lose,

“I said I was sorry, ok! I don’t know why the hell she’s crying right now but I can’t stand the way that every time I see her all I feel is guilt for the crap I did. But what am I supposed to do now? If she doesn’t forgive me, there’s nothing I can do.” After hearing K’s words, Jay’s anger only increased. You had done everything on your own from raising Ni-ki to opening your bakery. Jay knew that you were open to having K as a part of Ni-ki’s life but deep down, he felt as if you were being too lenient towards the guy. Both you and K deserved more than anything K had to offer.

“Let’s get one thing clear, hyung,” the last word with a mocking tone to it, “when you apologize you are requesting for forgiveness but never are you entitled to it.” Jay walked past K with more pressing matters that he needed to take care of.

«««

He managed to get up without waking you and carried you to his room where he settled you in bed. He felt you take his hand,

“Stay, you’re warm,” you muttered. He knew he should have said no. He knew he should have tucked you into the blanket and left the room. He knew he should have slept on the couch. He should have left while he still could. But he didn’t. So instead, he settled under the blanket while you situated yourself next to him. He put one arm under your head and wrapped the other around you. He allowed you to intertwine your legs with his, settling in a world of warmth and closeness that he knew no one else in the entire universe would be able to give him for the rest of his years. And as he closed his eyes, the scent of your shampoo filling his nose he knew that the scent would stay on his pillowcase for weeks from now, in his memory for longer. Tomorrow, you’d talk. But for now, he’d allow himself to get lost in you.

As you woke there was a weight on top of you. As if sensing your awakening, a pair of arms drew you closer to a rock-solid chest. Opening your eyes to be met with Jay,

“Don’t get up yet, we have company.” You looked at the bed to see Jungwon next to you while the other two boys were cuddling together. As you smoothened out Jungwon’s hair,

“When did the boys get here?”

“I don’t know.” You felt Jay play with the ends of your hair, running it through his fingers as silence befell the room.

“Last night you said we needed to talk,” you found yourself saying.

“The boys had a conversation before I left.”

“About?”

“Ni-ki said that he doesn’t have a dad while Jungwon and Sunoo have me. Jungwon said that they don’t have a mom while Ni-ki has you. Then, Sunoo said and I quote, ‘Ni-ki, why can’t our dad be your dad and y/n noona be our mom?’ After that, they went to sleep.”

“Ni-ki’s never really said anything about not having a dad before,” you said as you looked out at the boys. Jay sighed,

“Neither have Won and Sunoo.” You had no clue what to say or even how to address the issue. While you did sort of have feelings for Jay, things were too messy for the two of you to be in a relationship right now.

“What do we do?”

“I don’t know, we should think on it for a few days. I, uh, have something else to tell you.”

“There’s more?” Jay moved your hair away from your face,

“K and I talked before I went into the bakery. I felt like it was only right to let you know.”

“Oh.”

“Do you wanna know what we talked about?” Shaking your head,

“I trust you.”

“It’s a lot to take in for one morning, isn’t it?”

“Honestly, I’m just hungry.” Jay chuckled,

“Guess that’s my cue to make breakfast?”

“I can do it if you’re tired, I’ve always wanted to explore your kitchen.”

“We can cook together then,” Jay offered. While the boys were asleep in Jay’s room the two of you were in the kitchen. There was a different side to Jay while he looked, he was less guarded and more carefree. When the boys woke up and the five of you were eating breakfast,

“Your birthday’s coming up in a few days.”

“You know my birthday?”

“Of course I do, what kind of 02zer would I be if I didn’t?”

“I’m just surprised is all.”

“What are you gonna do to celebrate?”

“I’m working on the day of my actual birthday. Sunoo and Jungwon wanted to go camping so we’re just gonna do that over the weekend with Sunghoon and Jake.”

“Ooo, sounds nice.”

“Can Ni-ki and noona come?” Jungwon asked Jay.

“That’s up to them,” Jay turned to you somewhat hesitant in his next statement, “I was gonna invite the two of you before all this happened. You can even bring Heeseung hyung if you want.” You knew you should have said no. You knew you should have told him that it was fine. You knew you should have lied and said that you were busy over the weekend. But you didn’t want to. Instead, you allowed yourself to feel the comfort of Jay’s presence. You allowed yourself to trust in the safety he brought. You knew that his touch would linger on you in the weeks to come, staying as a dream perhaps for months. Later on, you’d deal with things. You should have thought with your head rather than your heart while you still could. But you replied,

“Count us in.”

❦ written by riri (@enhykkul) | chapter extra | next | series masterlist

taglist status: open (comment or send an ask to be in it) | main blog masterlist

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allnewalldifferentwildspider · 3 years

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Zuko & Katara's Relationship Dynamic

This is like the third or fourth time I've tried to write up this post so please bare with me.

Oh wow. That video. Hopefully everyone has seen it now. Not only did it articulate arguments I've been making for years, but it also brought up ideas I had never thought of or noticed before. Watching that and watching the second half of Book 3 again (because it's my favorite) made me want to redo my zutara dynamic post.

I'm going to be using the tiny bits and pieces the show gave us to see how Zuko and Katara's relationship looks and how it would look if they gave us more because...Bryke really fucking hated zutara. I mean, I guess they did.

Katara is compassionate; Zuko is empathetic

A lot of anti-zutara arguments have said that Zuko and Katara could never be together because they would constantly fight and hate each other and it end sooner than later. Not only does this actually describe maiko, but that argument would need to ignore the characters' actual character.

One of Katara's biggest character traits is how compassionate she is. She has a drive to help others and ease their pain. Whether it's getting Aang out of the iceberg or healing a Fire Nation fishing village, Katara will go out of her way to help someone in need.

Katara: No. I will never ever turn my back on people who need me.

Zuko is very emotional and passionate person. As much as he tried to hide it to appease his father, Zuko does want to open up and connect with people. Unfortunately, aside from his uncle, most of the other people he knows are like Zhao and Azula. Not the most understanding of crowds. But because of this he can pick up what people are really thinking and feeling. Think of it as a defense mechanism he developed growing up around people like Azula.

Get these two kinds of people together and you get the crystal catacombs scene. Katara lashes out at Zuko until she breaks down. When she does Zuko opens up with empathy since they have something in common. This creates the beginning of an understanding between the two. Zuko uses that to finally open up to someone who isn't his uncle and Katara listens and reaches out to help. Contrast to the first episode of Book 3 when Zuko tries to voice his thoughts and concerns to Mai and she...doesn't really care.

Something similar happens during The Southern Raiders. Zuko figures out that Katara is taking out her anger of being separated from her father by The Fire Nation onto him and even connecting her mother's death to him.

It's not the first time Zuko has done this either. He easily figured out that Sokka was planning on going to The Boiling Rock. He does it again during Sozin's Comet when he tells Katara that Aang needs to figure out what to do about Ozai by himself.

There's a noticeable pattern of behavior by the time Sozin's Comet arrives. Zuko voices his concerns about meeting his uncle again and Katara is right there to help him through it.

Zuko's empathy combined with Katara's compassion creates almost a cycle of understanding and emotional vulnerability that the two can't really get with anyone else. One notices the other having concerns or problems and goes to give comfort by words or by actions.

Zuko still has a temper but so does Katara

Even after Zuko's fever dream character change thing, even after The Day of Black Sun, he still has it in him to yell at anyone who commits even the slightest transgressions against him:

Aang: That one felt kinda hot. Zuko: Don't patronize me. You know what it's supposed to look like. Aang: Sorry, sifu hotman. Zuko: And stop calling me that!

Sokka: So all we have to do is make Zuko angry. Easy enough. *pokes him with his sword* *annoying laugh* Zuko: All right! Cut it out!

Maybe it's the firebender in him or maybe he really is just like that. Basically if you annoy him, he'll let you know. What people sometimes overlook is that while it takes Katara a bit longer, she also gets worked up when people upset her.

Toph: What's the matter? Can't handle some dirt, Madame Fussy Britches? Katara: Oh, sorry, did I splash you, mud slug?

And remember, it was Katara getting angry at Sokka that even broke the iceberg that revealed Aang.

Katara: Ugh, I'm embarrassed to be related to you! Ever since Mom died I've been doing all the work around camp while you've been off playing soldier! Sokka: Uh... Katara? Katara: I even wash all the clothes! Have you ever smelled your dirty socks? Let me tell you, NOT PLEASANT! Sokka: Katara! Settle down! Katara: No, that's it. I'm done helping you. From now on, you're on your own!

The point is that it is both Zuko and Katara that are very passionate and emotional people. One of them isn't emotionally dominating the other because they both wear their emotions on their sleeves.

This also comes in to play when they set goals for themselves. When Zuko sets a goal, he puts everything into it. Katara is the same way. The difference is that Zuko's drive sometimes gives him a one-track mind while Katara is more flexible. Like for example Zuko being so focused on finding Aang before Sozin's Comet that he ignores Toph's story about her childhood versus Katara wanting to go to the North Pole but taking time to stop and help whoever they come across.

This passion also fuels their values and how strongly they stand by their beliefs. I already put The Painted Lady quote up above but Zuko's morality is what is making him so angry at himself during The Beach. He knows what he did was wrong, but he couldn't face it yet.

Sometimes their emotions get the better of them, but it's only because they are passionate about what they're doing.

Their natural teamwork is amazing

I can't provide a lot of clues in this bit because it's more of a visual thing. Just consider how flawlessly their plans worked during their attack on The Southern Raiders. Especially when you consider that it was a stealth mission so they barely even said anything to each other during and it still went incredibly well.

You could see it again during their mock battle with The Melon Lord. Sokka must have noticed because he paired them together to deliver some "liquidy-hot offence." And they pulled it off, again, without having to say anything.

They've only been a team for a few weeks(?), days(?) but they act as if they've been doing it for years.

They trust each other's judgment

Piggybacking of the previous point, Zuko and Katara have only been a team for a while but there seems to be a level of understanding in terms of judgement. They both know that whatever the other chooses is going to be a well-thought out decision. Maybe it's because they see each other as the mature members of the group even though Sokka is the same age as Zuko? I don't know.

Aang disappears right before they embark on their fight against the Fire Lord, and out of nowhere, Katara puts Zuko in charge.

Zuko: Get out of the bison's mouth, Sokka. We have a real problem here. Aang is nowhere to be found and the comet is only two days away. Katara: What should we do Zuko? Zuko: I don't know. Why are you all looking at me? Katara: Well, you are kind of the expert on tracking Aang.

and that wasn't the first time in that episode that she went along with one of Zuko's decisions

Katara: Aang, don't walk away from this. *She begins to walk towards him as a hand touches her shoulder to stop her from doing so.* Zuko: Let him go. He needs time to sort it out by himself.

As a lot of people have pointed out during the entirety of The Southern Raiders, Zuko never gives a suggestion on what he thinks Katara should do. Aside from making it a stealth mission, he follows her lead the entire way.

Katara teases Zuko (and he lets her)

The fun one. This one has two parts: pre and post The Southern Raiders.

Before The Southern Raiders, Katara was tolerating Zuko. She was still angry with him about the betrayal at Ba Sing Se. Getting little jabs at him was the only thing that was really helping her from loosing her cool around him.

Katara: I'm sorry. I'm just laughing at the irony. You know... how it would have been nice for us if you lost your firebending a long time ago? Zuko: Well it's not lost. It's just weaker for some reason. Katara: Maybe you're just not as good as you think you are. Toph: Ouch.

He just finished yelling at Aang and Sokka but all he does is glare at Katara. She does it again, but to be fair, he kind of set himself up for it.

Zuko: It's a sacred form that happens to be thousands of years old! Katara: Oh yeah? What's your little form called? Zuko: ...The Dancing Dragon.

Then comes post The Southern Raiders and...yeah, she's still picking on him and he still lets her. Granted it's a lot more playful this time around.

Zuko: They make me totally stiff and humorless. Katara: Actually, I think that actor's pretty spot on. Zuko: How could you say that? Actor Uncle: Let's forget about the Avatar and get massages. Actor Zuko: How could you say that?! (Cut back to Katara wearing a satisfied grin on her face and she looks to an expressionless Zuko as he slouches in his seat.)

I love pointing it out every time. She teases him and he does nothing about it.

Katara: Er, no. I was looking for cooking pots in the attic and I found this. Look at baby Zuko! Isn't he cute? Oh lighten up, I was just teasing.

And she admits it!

So what can we take away from this? From what little time they were given together (thanks, Bryke) it seems that Zuko and Katara really understand each other on an intimate emotional level. They can sense when the other is distressed and offer comfort. They're both passionate in and out of combat, for better or for worse. They're comfortable with each other as if they've known each other for years even though it's such a short time. Katara also likes to add a little bit of playfulness in there with Zuko letting her have her fun, again, showing how comfortable they are with each other.

I do think their relationship could have gone to romantic sooner than later if you would have given it a bit more time. Like first half of a hypothetical Book 4.

To me, at least.

#zutara #zuko #katara #anti kataang #anti bryke

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yuzukult · 4 years

Text

from home 05 || jjk & reader

title: from home pairing: jungkook x reader genre: richkid!jk, baker!reader, fakedating!au, fluff, angst, e2l, smut in later chapters word count: 7.5k+ prompt: jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class? a/n: i was really excited to write this chapter and i still couldn’t get myself to make it longer... :( i suck...

please let me know if you’re interested in being tagged! but also let me know if you want to be removed! taglist: @scalubera @strugglingartistno16-2 @taestannie @teresaisla @drumsofheaven @vampgguk @christiandosworld @madjammil @jungkookieyoongs @bananagguknim @shuttheelleup @yobroitsjayden

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Stating that Jungkook was 'on edge' is an understatement.

His palms and armpits were sweaty from the moment he arrived at your apartment to grab you before going to meet your parents, despite the amount of layers of deodorant he has on. He's never had a real relationship before, let alone met any girl's parents, and he can't help but feel something churning in his gut. "Good to go?" You ask, and he merely nods, suddenly bashful because he feels like he is definitely not ‘good to go.’ "Alright, let's head out."

The ride on the bus to your family home is only 30 minutes away, and truthfully, he has never ridden on one before. Walking to yours, Hoseok, and his home were less than 15 minutes, the thought of taking the bus being the absolute last thing on his mind.

Jungkook isn't exactly sure how he feels about the bus. The constant starting and stopping makes him nauseous; then the unsteadiness of having to hold the bars and handles throughout the vehicle all around seems unsafe. When there's an available seat, you sense his fear, nudging him cautiously, gesturing him to take the seat. "Sit," and granting he wants to offer it to you instead, Jungkook complies to the demand because he swears he's going to vomit.

After getting off the public transportation that he vows to never take again, you guide Jungkook through a narrow road, he notices the neighborhood here was more concentrated than the ones in Busan; tightly knitted with homes that stacked on top of one another, side to side, and back to back. People hung their clothes on lines that stretch from apartment to apartment, piles of boxes stored on balconies, and plants resting on the borders with owners sitting idle on their porches, fixated on their hobby of people watching.

Jungkook is known to be popular to the public, from magazines, gossip TV channels, social media posts, and the types continue on to the point that you couldn’t name them all on your own ten fingers. People don't often recognize him on the streets anymore because he's unrecognizable in regular everyday clothes but today, he learns that you're the celebrity.

The people in their homes say their greetings, making comments here and there as you entertain them with a response back, laughter dispersing in the air. There's an old lady that lounges on the steps of her home, a smile stretched so wide that her eyes disappear, all with a blanket laying across her lap, knitting away. "I haven't seen you around, I assume your mother is having a dinner party for the kids? I see you brought a friend!"

"Something along those lines," you retort indirectly, nose snug into your scarf. "You're not staying indoors? It's cold out."

"My husband keeps the heater on the home too high, I sweat like I'm going through menopause like I’m forty all over again, so I much rather be outside here. Anyways, I don't want to hold you up too long, but please come by for Christmas, I do have a sweater I knitted for you as well!"

Then there's a grandfather, another grandmother, and a couple who seems just a bit older than the two of you, and the list just goes on. Despite the whisper exchanges at the supermarket mentioning that you're intimidating, mean, and scary, it's obvious that you aren't or else you wouldn't be swooning the hearts of these strangers.

But there will always be an exception. Especially when the two of you run into a girl who looks close in age, hair dyed blonde with her lips painted fusion red. He could tell how curvy she was with how tight the winter coat hugs her frame, swaying her hips toward your direction as she eyes you both suspicious. "I see our town loser brought a friend."

"Mm," You nod, attempting your best not to amuse her, or else you’d be pouncing on her back by now. "Jungkook, this is Somin. A classmate of mine when I was in grade school." He bows in politeness, zipping up his jacket further while stepping closer to you. "Nice to meet you, Somin."

"Oh, no!" She gasps, a hand on her chest in exaggeration, completely flabbergasted by something he said. "Don't call me that. I go by Bella, since... you know, I am an American now. Being an American deserves the right name."

"You got your citizenship there?"

"No, but, I spent enough time there to know." She grins, shrugging her shoulders. Spent enough time there—you want to call out on her bullshit yet again, knowing she barely spent a month there before dropping out of school and coming back, but it'd be humiliating to mention that with Jungkook standing by, a stranger that she had only met a mere few seconds ago. "You said Jungkook... Are you perhaps, Jeon Jungkook of the Jeon Corporation?"

You furrow your brows. "How do you even know that?"

"Well, daddy invests in their stocks, of course." Fluttering her lashes, she manages to make her presence known to Jungkook as she moves in his direction. "And I saw his pretty little face in a magazine and couldn't help but admire."

Possessively, your hand slips into his pocket, intertwining your fingers together, causing warmth to creep up his neck and into his cheeks. "Well, great to see you, Somin. Jungkook and I have dinner plans with my parents."

"Whoa, wait, dinner plans?" Somin nearly exclaims, shifting aside to block your way. "Also, it's Bella, get that straight, will you? And why is Jeon Jungkook with you anyway?"

"We're dating," Jungkook interjects, clearing his throat. The words are still unfamiliar on his tongue yet he loves to flaunt them anyway. "I'm her boyfriend." He adds, tightening the grip on your hand as if Somin could see it. Her mouth drops open, unable to grasp onto the fact that you were able to land on a hunk like him. If only she knew how much knowledge of basic life skills he didn't have... actually, she might still have the same perspective. "There's no way. This is fake, right? You realize how rude she is, don't you?"

"No, it’s not fake, and well, kind of," Jungkook admits, scrunching up his nose at the thought. "But it's endearing. Wouldn't be as exciting if she wasn't always trying to banter with me, so I don't think I'd have it any other way. People mistake it for her honesty. I love a woman who can be true to herself and genuine with her words."

Just then, your mother peeks out of the front door of your childhood home, waving her arm eagerly, calling out your name. "Well, that's our cue. Thanks, Somin, for congratulating us on our new relationship. Hope you find someone yourself soon!"

"What—" Somin barely finishes her sentence before you're zooming past her, tugging Jungkook along.

"I didn't know you had so many enemies," Jungkook says jokingly, a playful smile upon his lips. You roll your eyes before squinting them at him, squeezing his hand hard as he winces. "Now you know how little I care for them, watch out because you might become one."

Upon entering the home, Jungkook observes too many things at once. Your mother is in the kitchen, frantically maneuvering through the junk that your family has hoarded over the years, searching for whatever it is she needs for the task at hand. Your father sits comfortably on the couch, feet on the coffee table with a controller in hand, dozing off with a combination of quiet and loud snores escaping from him. As a family home, Jungkook believes it's small considering that you had mentioned previously that you had two other siblings. To think that your parents are still living in the same home they grew up in is amazing to him, knowing that his parents moved at least five times within his youth while you only stayed in one home.

"Uh, hello," He greets your mom, bowing as she places her hands onto his shoulders, shaking him in excitement. She looks almost like a replica of you, except older and much brighter. "You must be Jungkook! It's so great to meet you, I'm so happy that my daughter found someone. She's known to be a bit... cold, so knowing that you were able to warm her up means that you're definitely special!"

"You make me sound like a bad guy." You hiss before your little sister walks in, in the midst of tying her hair up into a ponytail. She resembled your mother than you did, a delighted expression that matched exactly the one your mother had on. "That's because you are, and any guy who dates you seem to run away once they find out." She halts in her steps when she notices Jungkook's face. "Oh my god, you're that model."

"Model?" Your mother reiterates, glancing back at Jungkook and then your sister. "Yeah, yeah, that model in the new edition of Elle. He was in it—he's listed as one of the 10 most desirable men under 30. No flipping way, how'd you even get him to even date you?" She pauses before pointing at Jungkook with a suspicious look on her face as his eyes widened. "Unless... you need her for something. What's she offering? It can't be her body, she's not sexy... is it her brains? You heard about her—"

"Miyoung." Your mother says sternly, interrupting your sister. "Just because Jungkook is a model, it doesn't mean that your sister is incapable of being loved by a man like that."

"Actually—"

"Oh, hey. You must be the boyfriend." A taller male enters the room, his hair messy and lids hooded from waking up barely minutes before. He's still in his pajamas, a loose grey shirt and red checkered pants, but from the outline of his shirt, Jungkook could tell this guy was built. "I'm Daehyun, also known as their big brother. It's nice to meet you." Jungkook is in awe, hand extending to shake with Daehyun's. He knows he's straight, but even as a straight guy he knows a pretty man when he sees one.

Jungkook was starting to pick up as to why your exterior was so tough. With a younger sister who didn't have a filter to an incredibly handsome older brother, of course as the middle child you had to protect yourself. "Uh, yeah. And that's my little sister, Miyoung, who basically just attacked me for all of my insecurities within a minute. Thanks, kiddo."

"No problem, Unnie." She grins cheekily, seated on the high stool. "Did mom tell you I was back home from college for the weekend? That's why you're here?"

"Something like that," you respond ominously, hanging up your jacket along with Jungkook’s. Despite her preceding interrogation, she’s chewing on her bottom lip skittishly. "More like she forced me to come. Well, she didn't say anything yet but I felt a guilt trip coming so I just decided that I would come instead."

"Typical," Daehyun scoffs, leaning against the wall beside Miyoung. He sneaks a glimpse into the kitchen where your mother secretly runs back into, resuming in her work. "She's been desperate to get us all back together since the two of you moved out. Remind me again why I'm the only one stuck here?"

"Because you can't find a job." Miyoung and you remind him in unison and he frowns. The interaction between the three of you is crystal clear evidence that you guys are related. "Well, geez, hurt a guy, why don't you? See what I have to deal with, Jungkook?"

With some time left until dinner, the four of you crowd at your small dining table, conversing away about updates in your lives. Miyoung is in University an hour away from home, residing there for an easier commute, and Daehyun stays at home with an ambition to find a job that fits his degree. Daehyun still dates from time to time but he admits that he can’t tend to his needs because well, his mother is a room away, and oddly enough, albeit Miyoung babbles on about other things, she’s silent about her love life. Neither Miyoung and Daehyun are able to hold a steady job, he observes, and he’s starting to pick up as to why you’re so adamant about keeping both of yours. Jungkook learns that everything seems to gravitate toward one of the two phrases from your siblings when it comes to finances and they are: “Mom can handle it,” or “I’m going to let Dad do it so I don’t have to.”

From what Jungkook can gather, your siblings seemed to have different outlooks on life compared to you—they still depended on their parents whilst you were already hunting for opportunities of your own before Miyoung’s age so you didn’t have to ask for money.

“Are you still upset with me about what happened a year ago?” Miyoung finally asks you, chewing on her nails nervously. It seems to be something she’s been holding back from you, Jungkook takes a note of the way her eyes were filled with worry. “Of course,” You reply nonchalantly, leaning back against your seat with your arms crossed. “How could I not be? But you’re my sister, so I can’t actually be mad at you.”

Miyoung begins to tear up— glassy gaze with her bottom lip quivering, in spite of the previous aggressiveness she presented when you first entered the house. Before Miyoung could get another word in, your mom comes in with a guilty expression on her face. She calls your name faintly, a pout upon her lips. “Can you and Jungkook go out and grab me a couple things before dinner?”

Jungkook can’t get the question that Miyoung brings up out of his mind. In the middle of an aisle at another one of his mother’s grocery stores, your lips are pursed in thought at which brand of soy sauce would your mom like more.

“What was Miyoung going on about?” He eventually asks, but he holds his breath in case you decide to sock him for querying you about something so personal. Strangely enough, you open up. “Miyoung fell in love with my ex. He told me they didn’t do anything but he was in love with her, so we broke up. I thought I was going to settle with him but— guess not.”

Jungkook’s eyes expand like a deer in headlights. “Your little sister is dating your ex-boyfriend? And they were in love with each other during your relationship? I would’ve given her an uppercut if I were you— are you seriously still buying the banana milk she asked for?” He’s trailing behind you as you lead him toward the drinks; your face brightening from the lights from the fridges. How could someone who lost their boyfriend to their little sister seem so put together in the first place? Was this was Hoseok was talking about that your men streak was horrendous?

“Because she’s my little sister. At the end of the day, I want her to be happy.” Throwing a pack into the cart, Jungkook continues to push it while following you, mind still foggy and angry about the situation. Here you were, with a guy who you’d fallen in love with to the point of considering settling down, then finding out he’s been in love with your sister... he feels like this is all a fever dream and isn’t an ounce real. “You’re fucking with me right?”

You look at him with perplexity. “What do you mean?”

“This sounds crazy. You’re serious? Miyoung stole a guy from you and you’re just going to be the bigger person here and not do anything about it?”

“What am I supposed to do? Throw a tantrum? Get in the way of their relationship that is obviously blossoming in a good way?”

Jungkook pauses. Was this what it was like in another family? Or at least yours?

In comparison, he perceives that within his family, outbursts were everything. Getting attention and being recognized for any wrongdoing was immensely important— he knew that if he stole a girl away from one of his brothers, he wouldn’t make it out of the house alive. His mother, including father, would never forget it. The chattering would be heard through the grapevine amongst the housemaids, drivers, and employees of the company. Even news media outlets would dabble a bit into the family drama, adding fuel to the fire. He could never react the way you did, at least, he hopes he would, but realistically speaking, he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it.

Yet, with you, it seemed simple enough. Sure, your heart was broken, but how were you going to be with someone who didn’t love you back?

“If you love someone, you let them go.” You say calmly when Jungkook doesn’t respond back. “Keeping them around for your benefit doesn’t solve anything. If he wasn’t truly happy with me, I want him to be happier with someone else. And if that person so happens to be with Miyoung, what am I supposed to do?”

“But... you’re not happy.” Jungkook declares with no hesitation. He recalls the time where you felt bad for him for not having the best upbringing, and he’s starting to understand the emotion that ran through you. “I’m happier now,” You concede, placing the last ingredient your mom has on the list for you to purchase, turning your back at Jungkook. “Now that I met you.”

His heart flutters at the comments, and he’s desirous about bringing up the topic of the kiss again. Jungkook resists the urge to because he could tell from the way your silhouette begins to quicken its pace toward the checkout line that you really didn’t want to talk about it.

When the two of you arrive back at your house, your father is jolted awake. Jungkook greets himself to the elder man who only grins brighter than the sun—something Jungkook is trying to grasp where your grumpiness comes from— and instantaneously directs him to the dinner table where your mom has a ton of side dishes laid out with six place settings for you all.

During the meal, there was nothing but exchanging stories, laughter, and elation that swarms the room. If this was what family meant, Jungkook wanted it. And the more he thinks about it, the more he wants it to be with you.

Nothing is working out for Jungkook.

This week, the pipe in his apartment burst. Something about— it’s winter and when it’s cold, the water freezes within the pipe and it expands the material, causing the pipe itself to burst, he doesn’t quite understand how the whole plumbing system works, but he knows that he can’t use the water in his apartment and has to go to yours and Hoseok’s for the week for a shower until the landlord can get it fixed.

Then, one of the deli guys called off because he apparently had the runs which meant that there was a shift change— Jungkook having to cover since whomever was working that day didn’t have the skills to do it.

Skills? Jungkook curses underneath his breath when he recites that word in his head repeatedly because he cuts his finger on the meat slicer as he winces, calling out your name. Coming to his side, you pull out the first aid kit and force him to sit down on one of the stools, tying elastic on a higher point of his finger to stop the blood from gushing out. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I just... I didn’t need to be put here, right? Someone else could’ve done this, I have no idea how to use a slicer.”

“I know,” You coo, wiping some of the antiseptic on the wound as he whimpers at the sudden sting. “The new shift manager panicked, she wasn’t sure what to do since the guy with the actual food preparation license is going to be here a bit late so she put you here. Not exactly the best plan.” After bandaging him up, you wash your hands underneath the faucet as Jungkook slouches in the seat.

Nothing really was going his way.

It doesn’t even stop there. Unexpectedly, his mother calls for dinner but you’re on shift, therefore you wouldn’t be able to attend. He’s tempted to down a glass of whiskey on ice, his signature drink, but when he opens the cabinet in his kitchen, he falters at the image of your face. Would you be disappointed if you saw what he was doing? And Hoseok? What would he say?

Retracting his hand back, he immediately slams the door shut at the thought of the consequences.

Dinner is the usual at the Jeon residence. Father sits at the end of the dining table, the typical beige cloth napkin spread across on his lap while in his usual work attire, glasses rested on the tip of his nose as he’s ready to dive in with a fork and spoon in hand. Mother is settled beside him, pretty as ever and calm in comparison to the hell that’s going to let loose in a couple minutes. The unknown? Who is going to blow up this time and who will they be comparing themselves to?

The answer? Jongseok and Jungkook.

Jongseok is upset to the point that he articulates every word with spit nearly projecting from his mouth to the opposite side of the room. The vein on his temple is stressed to the point that all Jungkook can think about is when it’s going to pop. “Why are you guys always babying Jungkook? You realize the kid is fucking working at a grocery store right? And not just any grocery store, either, but it’s mother’s chain.”

“Okay?” Father retorts, forehead wrinkling in puzzlement. “Isn’t he trying to prove himself worthwhile? Didn’t he find that job himself, despite it being your mother’s chain? He’s paying for his mistakes, learning basic life skills along the way, and even landed himself a serious girlfriend who can hold his hand through these tough times, since, after all, you’re the one who suggested we cut him off. If I’m being honest, I think we should give him access to our funds again.”

A scoff of incredulity comes from Jongseok. He’s a ticking time bomb in this moment; jaw twitching in frustration with the tips of his ears heated red. Even though he’s the target yet again, Jungkook is sober now, mind clear of the fog and the ability to defend himself for once. “I don’t get it. Why are you even mad at me? I’m trying here, right? You’re the one who wanted me to get cut off so desperately— and congrats, by the way, because I did. I had to find a job myself, one I’m not a fan of, and I’m barely making it by. I lost water in my apartment this week, cut my hand on one of those deli slicers, sprained my ankle on my way to work— and that’s only a portion of my bad week. Yet here I am, sitting at the dinner table with people who claim that they love me when you’re here flipping shit at father. What do you want from me?”

“For your name to be completely off the will.” Jongseok finally says what he has been actually feeling unperturbedly, not an ounce of affection in his tone with a gaze that could pierce through Jungkook. “You have nothing to offer to this family. Why we keep you around— I don’t know. Why should you have any portion of our estate and company assets when all you’re doing right now is working at the supermarket. Tell me, Jungkook, why do you deserve to be part of any of this?”

Jungkook hates how childish he’s being, but he feels like he has the right to. The flickering colorful lights and music booming through the speakers of the club are tuning out the words his brother exclaims at his parents, and the amount of alcohol passing through his lips are numbing the pain that tears through his chest. Your face pops up in his head; your laugh, your smile, and the comfort in the underlying messages through your tough love— he wishes that all of that was enough to heal the sting in his heart and fill the hollowness that his family left.

He doesn’t remember any of these people sitting at this table with him, even though they’re hollering in excitement that “Jungkook is back again!” The girl placing a hand on his chest with his arm around her shoulder isn’t you, but he knows that if it was, you’d be so displeased at how wasted he is. Honestly, this feels wrong. Nothing sits right in his stomach and when another pretty gal with her dress hiked up to the point he could see her thong from where he’s on the couch, he’s not even attracted to her. All he could think about was you, and that scowl on your face when he tells you about this night. He could hide it from you but he’s not going to lie to himself— if he wanted to improve for the better, it meant being straightforward and authentic. Jungkook came here to let loose because the events that occurred at the estate tonight was something he wants to forget.

Turning to the girl beside him, his eyes are hooded and vision is blurry when he asks, “What’s your name again?”

When her rosy plump lips open, she says her name but the voice that comes out of it is deep and oddly familiar. “Hyeri?” Why does she say it like a question, and why is her voice so low? Just then, a hand clenches the fabric of his shirt, pulling him up and he meets the proprietor of the response. Hoseok.

Hoseok drags Jungkook’s weak and frail frame out into the alleyway behind the club, fuming to the point that smoke could’ve been whistling out of his ears. “What the fuck are you doing here? And with Hyeri, of all people! I thought I told you to stop fucking around, dude! I-I thought you knew how much she means to me. Out of the people I’ve partied with— you were my actual friend.” He clenches his jaw before Jungkook could even answer, a fist tightening in his hand. “You’re such a fuck up, Jungkook. So much for a friend.”

Then everything blacks out.

His entire body hurts. His head is pounding, he can barely open one of his eyes, and his legs are so sore he can hardly shift on the bed— on a bed? He doesn’t have a bed. He has a futon but not a bed. Startled, he attempts to sit up against the bed frame, the other eye opening to skim through the room.

He’s never been in your bedroom before, but the pictures of you graduating college hanging on the corkboard above your desk, concert tickets, Polaroids, and holiday cards thumbtacked beside them is all the evidence he needs to know it’s yours. Jungkook wants a closer look at them, he can scarcely make out the cute little smile on your face with your family in attendance in the picture, but when he puts weight onto his arms, he groans. Seconds later, you’re bursting through the door, out of breath and worry in your eyes. “Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Voice hoarse, he realizes how dry his throat is and you lean over to the bedside table to hand him the glass of water you had there originally. “Don’t move, idiot. You’re actually really torn up if you didn’t feel it with all that alcohol in your system.” Inviting yourself onto the foot of the bed, Jungkook frowns after he finishes the entire glass, much more dehydrated than he initially thought. “Trust me, it’s gone now. I feel every ounce of pain. What happened? I blacked out.”

“No shit,” you retort harshly, rolling your eyes at him. “You were drunk as hell, but you didn’t black out from that. Hoseok saw you getting all cozy with Hyeri and knocked the shit out of you. What happened, Jungkook? Why were you there in the first place? Did something happen?”

Reading the expression on your face, he fears for the worse but he doesn’t see any hint of dissatisfaction anywhere. There’s no anger, no resentment, no frustration— none of that. Just curiosity smeared across, genuinely worried about his well-being. “Are you upset that you found out I was there?”

“I was mad that Hoseok called me to come grab you, at first, so kind of, yeah. But if you’re trying to figure out if I’m disappointed in you, then no, I’m not. Old habits are hard to kill, so I understand that you’re trying to cope with something. I just want to know why you were there in the first place and why were you getting all lovey dovey with Hyeri—“

“I wasn’t getting lovey-dovey with Hyeri,” Jungkook exasperates, head falling back against the headboard, closing his eyes shut, interrupting before you lead the conversation into a lecture. “She was just some girl that sat down and claimed a spot next to me. I didn’t even know she was Hoseok’s girl.” There’s a pregnant pause in his explanation, and you don’t break off his train of thought. “I... I went because Jongseok called me useless tonight, yet again. It didn’t bother me as much as it did before, you know, before I met you, and it’s probably because I wasn’t intoxicated or the fact that I’m actually trying now and he still thinks I’m useless. He wants me out of the will.”

“He’s jealous that he’s the problematic child now, not you.” Making your way up the bed, you’re seated on top of the covers, settled adjacent to Jungkook. “If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re way more useful than you had been initially. I usually do the dishes at my parents’ house, mostly because I’m the middle child, but you did it for me instead. I consider that a huge accomplishment from who you were before.”

As much as he hates to admit how warm and fuzzy he feels inside just from that small achievement, it’s a resemblance of the time when he was younger and won an award for being most creative in his kindergarten class. How are you able to lift up his mood so easily by just saying a few words?

“I… is Hoseok really pissed?”

“A bit,” you reply sincerely and apologetically, even though none of this had been your fault. “He’s been in love with her even before I met him. She was all he could talk about, and I guess she finally gave him a shot, only to drop him a month later. I don’t know much about her, but I know she’s a gold digger from the stories he shared.”

Jungkooks face drops when his gaze meets yours. “Have you ever told him that?” You laugh—the melody that practically heals his wounds on the spot. “No, are you crazy? He’s blinded by love, Jeon, and any interference with that, I’m done for, probably cut out entirely from his life. Have you never been in love before?”

He wants to say that he hasn’t, not until he met you, but you continue without expecting a response from him anyway. “Well, that’s just how he is. You could tell him a billion times that this girl isn’t for him but he’s never going to care about what I say until something actually happens.”

“I really care about Hoseok, though, and I want the best for him.” His doe-brown eyes are glossy, full of cherish for his friend. “And he cares for you too, Jeon. Just give him some time.” Quickly, Jungkook twists away, gaze avoiding yours as he clears his throat a couple times.

“Are you... okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” He says, choking up on his own words. “Hurts a little. Hoseok is strong.”

You furrow your brows. “Hey, look at me.” He doesn’t react. “Jeon,”

“Can... you give me some space?”

Pulling your lips into a straight line, you contemplate whether or not to listen to his words or go against him. He’s been living in a home full of people yet still feeling alone, with no one to listen to his perspective on things. Maybe it’s time you change that.

Abruptly, you swing your leg over his thighs, hands cupping his cheeks just like you did that fateful night. He swore his heart stopped beating. “What are you—” There’s tears brimming in his eyes, you realize, with some escaping, trailing down his cheek. He sniffles. “You’re crying?” You’re stating the obvious, yet somehow it comes out as a question. “Don’t cry. Why are you crying?”

“I’ve never had a friend love me before, a friend who actually liked me for me and only wanted to spend time with me because of who I was, not who my family was. Did I really fuck up with Hoseok?” You frown, thumb rubbing against his cheek to wipe away his tears. Truthfully, you never really knew how to react when someone fell apart like this, but with Jungkook, it felt natural, the comforting. It might’ve been the sunlight peering through the windows of your room that made everything toasty, thawing out your cold heart, or it was just Jungkook. “Maybe. But I doubt he wouldn’t give you a chance to explain yourself though. I mean, yeah, you’re bruised all over because he really beat you up... but, I’m sure this evens things out. Plus, I’m your friend and I love you too.”

He sighs, shoulders plunging with his hands creeping up to your waist unconsciously, tenderly steering you to sit on his thighs. Swallowing at the feeling of his body flattened against yours, you’re attempting to shake your head from the dirty thoughts. Jungkook feels at ease, detecting the words come from your mouth, yet he wants more. He craves for more, especially since that night in Busan and he isn’t sure he can hold himself back anymore.

“I... What happened that night in Busan?” Lifting your weight off him, he only stops you by putting down more pressure to stop your escape. Despite being in an awful lot of pain, he still manages to overpower you in strength. “Please don’t avoid this. If Jongseok didn’t come to our door that night, it would’ve led to something more. I want to know, please, what does it mean?” Cheeks burning, you stare at the wooden headboard behind him, except Jungkook knows your next steps before you do because his finger is already on your chin, guiding your view back onto him. He doesn’t need to say anything because the look he gives you says it all, tell me.

“Okay, okay,” You cringe, the idea of talking about this makes your stomach feel queasy and want to recoil in dread. “White flag. I’ll talk.”

“Enough of this white flag nonsense, just tell me.”

Belatedly gathering enough courage, you spill. Although your heart feels like it’s jumping through hoops from suspense, you realize that you can’t hold yourself back any longer anyway. “I’m... attracted to you, alright? I mean, I’m not sure how I feel about you 100% emotionally, because I still feel like we’re on different pages here, but I feel like I kind of like you? If this goes any further, I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to it.”

That’s... it? Admittedly so, Jungkook was hoping for more of a confession, something along the lines of, ‘I really like you, Jungkook’ but he’d have to settle for this. This was definitely a step closer to where he wants to be. “So... you’d date me, that is. There’s still an opening somewhere.”

“I-I mean, I guess so... why?”

“Because well, I can’t stop thinking about that night, and I know that for sure that I like you.” He discloses. “And if there’s even a bit of an opening, I want a shot at it.”

You scoff. “With me? You want an actual shot with me? After spending time with my family, you want to still try to swoon me?” There’s a smile tugging on Jungkook’s lips; there’s a blackish-bluish bruise underneath his eye, the side of his lips red and blotchy and the entirety of his body is either swollen or bruised, and yet, he still endures the pain to be beaming brighter than the stars. “Of course, you met my family, right? Yours is nothing complicated in comparison... well, maybe your sister. But for once, I feel like I belong here, with you, I feel like I’m home. So, will you give me a chance to win you over?”

“Don’t you think you’re rushing this whole thing? This... you thinking you like me kind of thing.”

“Are you going to keep wasting your time?” He blurts, a hint of annoyance in his tone. “You wasted how long with some guy only for him to ditch you for your sister. What about your happiness, and what you want? None of this is fair to you. What if I could possibly give that to you, that happiness? Would you actually give me a chance?”

Sincerely, you didn’t know what the relationship with Jungkook held and what it would mean in the future. But what he asserts is right with the things he repeats in Busan about being selfish for once replays in your head again, and you finally decide to take a shot at it.

Was it the high of saying ‘yes, okay’ to Jungkook or the painkillers he took earlier because when your lips meet with his, he feels like he’s floating in mid-air. Your tongue is wet and soft when it fights with his, and when his hands on your waist pull you in closer, the bulge in his pants isn’t discreet, raging for attention, twitching against your thigh while your fingers knots through his hair tightens in response to your bottom lip suddenly tucked in between his teeth. The room feels steaming hot, especially when your hips start to move against his, emitting a groan from him as hand trails down to your ass to give it a harsh squeeze in consequence. His jeans from last night are still on and they’re straining in his crotch uncomfortably.

This is escalating so fast—just as quickly as his heart is beating in his chest, almost popping out of his chest cavity. Your natural scent is intoxicating, clouding up his mind to the point that he doesn’t think he needs the alcohol to forget the pain his family has caused him anymore, because you’re mending the pieces of him together. Your hands trail down to his neck, tugging him closer before they wander down to his biceps, giving him a gentle squeeze that releases a wince from him.

Just as abrupt as the kiss, you pull away with a concerned and panic expression, with your mouth open in aghast. “Oh my god— I forgot you were still injured—” As you’re trying to move back, you stumble on his legs and collapse onto the floor.

“What— hey, are you okay?” He says, breathless as he leans over to check on you sprawled on the floor. Swiftly hopping back on your feet, he observes you clearly with your hair disheveled, cheeks tinted pink, and swollen lips. There’s a look of achievement on his face from the sight of a disoriented you. “Uh, um, yeah. I-I’m good,” Flustered, you push a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m... I’m going to get dinner ready for the both of us, uh, I’m going to leave you to it,” you’re awkwardly gesturing his crotch before rushing out the room and slamming the door shut.

He can only laugh at your reaction. At least his week wasn’t that bad after that kiss, right?

Jungkook stirs awake from the sound of chatter in the living room, voices familiar that he can associate them as yours and Hoseok’s. Unexpectedly, he sounds melancholic, the muffled sounds from your walls, almost to the point of whimpering mixed with your soft assuring words. He figures he should get a closer perspective of this, maybe enough where he can make out what the two of you are conversing about.

He’s not far off from shrieking when he angles his leg too far, but he bites his bottom lip in prevention of any sound, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the torment. Careful, he reiterates like a mantra in his head, chanting it until it’s engraved in his brain. When he reaches the door, he opens it slowly and just barely, to peek out and see the scene unfold before him.

“She told me that they didn’t do anything,” Hoseok exclaims, face in his hands as his elbows are resting on his knees. “That she chose to be there, and Jungkook was just lounging on the couch. That if anything, she wanted him to fuck her. Isn’t that ridiculous? How could she say that?”

You’re seated on the armrest of the loveseat, hand rubbing against Hoseok’s back soothingly. “I know, Hobi, I know. You might’ve been the right one for her, but at the end, she wasn’t the right one for you.”

“I could’ve changed,” He emphasizes, spinning his gaze to meet yours. His eyes are crimson and swollen from his tears, restlessness fills in those orbs. “I love her so much.”

“Well, and you love Jungkook. He’s in the other room, beat up and crying because he thought he lost you. He didn’t do anything wrong and you tore him to shreds! Earlier when we were making—“ You pause, clearing your throat when you realize where you were leading the conversation, Hoseok raising a brow in confusion at the action. “Earlier, I mean, I went to check on him and he was whining in pain. You really hurt him, Hoseok, and not just physically either. He’s both hurt emotionally and physically.”

He frowns. “I mean, I guess... I guess it wasn’t his fault.”

“There’s no guessing, idiot. It wasn’t. He was honestly too wasted to even realize that she was sitting beside him. Poor kid reeked of alcohol that I almost made him sleep on the porch. But he would’ve gotten robbed so... I let him stay in my room and I slept on the couch.” Jungkook glowers at the thought of you struggling to find comfort on the small sofa, wishing you would’ve chosen to sleep by him instead.

“Can I... talk to him?” Hoseok finally asks, looking down at his hands in embarrassment. His knuckles were red, contused from the one-sided fight he had with Jungkook the night before. “I fucked up, and I’m sure he thinks that he really fucked up.”

You hum for a moment before an idea pops into mind. “How about... you go out and get takeout? I’ll check on him, prep him for your appearance, and then you guys can hash it out?”

You don’t take no for an answer, pushing Hoseok out the door shortly, and a soft smile tugs on the edges of Jungkook’s lips before he lightly shuts the door and tip toes back into bed, pretending to be deep in slumber.

When you come into the room afterwards with a wet rag in hand and a bucket of warm water, his heart swells. Patting the towel against his wounds while seated at the edge of the bed, he hastily has a hand wrapped around your wrist, shocking you in the midst of your activity. “Oh— you’re awake?” He gingerly kisses the palm of your hand, heat clogging your face . “Yeah. And, thank you. For everything. I owe you a lot.”

“I—uh, maybe you’ll reciprocate this for me as well, one day?” You respond dubiously. “But... you also might not know how to do it so—“

“Are you still trying to make jabs at me after I made such a sweet comment?”

“Well, I’m just being honest, do you even know how to take care of another person?” You shoot back. “You couldn’t even get yourself back home, I had to be called and drag you back here myself, and my god, you’re heavy—“ He hauls your arm closer, dragging you along with it until your nose is inches away from his. “Can I kiss you again? I miss the way your lips feel with mine.” Even when he says the words in a volume that’s barely a whisper, his breath fans against your skin harshly, causing goosebumps to crawl up your spine.

The door pounds shut and before you can tear away from Jungkook’s hold, Hoseok is already standing in the threshold of the bedroom, mouth wide open in shock before it immediately fades into a mischievous grin. “What did I tell you, Kook? Which one was it first? You or her?”

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook smut #bts #bts smut #jungkook x reader #gyukult fics

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