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#-derailed to talk about an entirely different topic and they were just like. hey wait. wait. no
pillowspace · 9 months
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One time someone paused in the middle of a conversation we were having and just straight up told me that my mannerisms are so unpredictable that it makes it very hard for them to manipulate me, and to this day, that's the most bizarre observation anyone's made of me
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famouskittychild · 3 years
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Cheeky Mandos - Five: Coming home
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Word count: 2828
Summary: They’re coming home! They’re coming home... a visit to home and facing some important questions.
Rating: M
CW: multiple references to sexual activities, relationship talk, references to polyamory (OC's parents) and open relationships, some angst, pining
Author’s note: Lots of pick-and-choose world building here. I mostly disregard / am not familiar with Legends except for the language, I love languages ( *insert Penny loves steak* gif here) and there’s barely any canon/also am not very familiar with whatever there is so I made up what I would like mandos to be; which is a very open and egalitarian society with a focus on family that comes in many forms (and is sometimes a single person with five tookas, other times it’s your three buir’e, your five vod’e and about thirty cousins.). Din is so alone and his covert has (had? :( ) to fight so hard to survive, I gave my Armourer a big, loving family and a community that fared much better.
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Series: Prolouge - One - Two - Three - Four (NSFW Din/Cobb special)
Cheeky Mandos - Five: Coming home
**
When you get back to your covert, you leave Djarin behind as soon as politely possible. You need your friends, you need advice, and you need company that isn’t confusing you.
You find your friends at Thlolla’s place; they have small ones so the rest gather at their quarters, scattering in the kar’yai’s couches and on pillows on the floor. You commed them before you got back. They would’ve gathered anyways for the occasion that you came home, but your message made sure that everyone showed up for at least a little chat.
They know what it is all about, of course. They know you well enough. They saw the shiny armour. It’s easier than putting two and two together.
“It’s basically like putting one and one together” Tav winks at you, and Hill’it smacks their back.
“You are so bad at math, that’s the only thing you could ever calculate” and you all laugh at that because Tav is terrible with numbers.
All the couches and floor pillows are occupied as your friends and some of their families lounge around the karyai of Thlolla’s home. You stretch out on the soft rug, resting your limbs on as many people as you can. You missed them dearly. Jama, who has your left leg draped over his knee, rubs your calf before speaking.
“So. What is your problem, mate?”
He knows you the longest. You lived at the same covert from the time you were entrusted with your own rifles, moved three times, and only separated years later after you both went through your verd'goten. His clan is the reason you still have the same accent as him when you’re tired or angry: that was the first time you were around more people than your immediate family.
You let your thoughts linger on the past because it’s safer than the present. Or the future.
“No problem. Just the usual ‘I’m an idiot, innit’ situation.” You pause, and try to swallow your regrets. “When was I good with choices?”
There’s a collective sigh and rolling of eyes, but you can’t help to feel that way and voice it. All your friends have found their places a long time ago. Some on their own like Haika; others have families, some with children like Thlolla does, or with partners of some kind. Except you. To-Ran, Tav’s foundling, crawls over to you and leans against your chest. They have been formally adopted by their current clan only recently and probably feels you are in something of a similar situation. You squeeze their shoulders reassuringly.
“Let’s be honest, hun” Jama says, “Neither of us has the burden you do. We don’t have to vanish off to space for weeks at a time, or if we have to, we can work together.”
That is the crux of the matter. Unless you get with another Armourer, your professions would pull you apart.
“I’m just thinking… maybe it’s because I was alone for quite a while now. I just latched onto the first person that came along and stayed for a bit.”
Hill’it pulls up an eyebrow before answering.
“Maybe you need a friend so you won’t feel so alone.”
There are small ones in the room hence the careful wording, but the adults understand the added meaning. They offer friendship, yes, but the definition of that word can vary. You aren’t sure how outsiders do it exactly - you have met people who have definitely had a more stricter separation between friend, person to have feelings for, and person to have sex with, than your people do. But they didn’t seemed to navigate things any better, so you stick with what you know and what worked.
But your people, at least those you know closer, tends to deal with problems head-on. You can’t fight well if your thoughts linger on problems in your private lives. You were thought early on to face your doubts and fears and anything that could be a distraction - and how that includes feelings and libido too. How people have needs for emotions, attachments and intimacy, that those varies, each their own way and degree. And that these are some of the things that can spur people to make rush decisions the most. You and your friends watched others make those mistakes and made some yourselves too.
Life thought you that if you have people around to talk to and to hug and to trust, you wont jump on a stranger you’ve barely met and feel attracted in some way just to fulfil those needs. You can wait until you get to know them, until you actually want them for themselves, and not just for the feelings or the intimacy, emotional or physical.
*
Hil’it is a good partner, familiar and fun, and tonight, extra caring. You wake up together sometime way before dawn, and the worry must still be on your face.
“Rivets for your thoughts?”
You sigh, and try to gather said thoughts. You remind yourself at another hard learned lesson: talking about a problem is often half the way of solving them.
“I’m just wondering… “ you start, than your words stuck in your throat.
“..what if it works out?” Hil’it smirks at you, lips pulled into a lopsided grin as they rest their head on their arm. You furrow your brows in disapproval.
“No, don’t try to derail the conversation. What if I say something, or do… and he takes it as an offence?” You stop their objections before they could open their mouth fully. “I’m serious. He was sent on this… mission. From high up. Pissing him off can have political consequences.”
“You mean that he could take your advances the wrong way and exact vengeance on your clan, or even the entire covert?” They look at you with an eyebrow raised. Put it like that, you know that’s not very plausible. “We are talking about a vod who was basically ready to enter your service and accept any of your terms, after seeing you for the first time three minutes prior when you said ‘hey I’m a wandering armourer, I visit some coverts sometimes’ - all so he can reach more of our people.”
“Yeah… he won’t turn on us just because I make him feel a bit uncomfortable.”
“Not very likely.”
You nod, glad you managed to voice your worries.
They lean their forehead to yours, and you share a breath, the tradition as old as the Creed. Hil’it than tugs on your arm, pulling you closer onto their chest. You scoot over and snuggle up beside them with your back to them, their arms around you and resting their hands on your chest. You sleep much better until dawn.
*
Three of your buirs live at a smaller enclave some distance from the main hub of the covert. You go over to them for breakfast after Hil’it leaves for her job early. It’s only Tis-buir who’s up, as usual, pattering about in the kitchen making long breakfast just as you expected.
He pulls you close and touches your helmets together. He didn’t need to wear his helmet in his own home, or even his armour, and definitely not at this early hour, but he got into the habit since you became a Master. His set was forged before you were born and you’re grateful that he’s still around, together with your other buirs. Every time you get home, they seem to look older and older though. You wonder whether part of your panic about relationships comes from the dread that they might not be able to give their blessings to you.
“How are you doing, ad’ika?” he asks, and the way he says it is always with so much more meaning than people usually throw that question around. When Tis-buir asks it, he means it. He wants to know if you have any fears, if something bothers you, if there’s something that made you happy but don’t talk about it because you think it’s too insignificant to talk about. You hesitate, and that’s an answer in itself that he understands. “That bad, eh?”
He chuckles and steps away, back to the steamer. He checks the rice cooking there before turning back to you.
“What is it, cyare? Pirates? More beskar thieves? Or that stowaway getting in your way while you work?”
Your helmet is on so he can’t see your face, luckily, and you’re quick to deny anything.
“No, it’s not that. It’s something more… personal.” You could just end the conversation, like you often do when you don’t want to trouble your buir’e, but you came for advice. You nudge yourself mentally. Better to spit it out - it’s nothing to be ashamed about catching feelings after all. Your buir’e told their stories enough times to know they have no problem hearing about the topic.
“Oh. So, it’s about a special person. And they are.. an aruetii?” He asks, and he keeps his helmet on still, to allow you to do the same. As much as you’d like to see his face, it’s better this way.
“No, it’s… he follows the Creed too.” You admit, and your stomach is doing a flip. It’s entirely different talking to your family about this. With your friends, they’d just say their opinion and you can take it or leave it. With your aliit, you want their approval.
Tis-buir nods slowly, weighing your words. Then he reaches for his helmet and takes it off, placing it on the shelf near the counters that is there for this purpose. He leaves his scarf on, the handwoven fabric soft around his white hair and beard. You may take off your own helmet now, and you do that, placing it on the shelf beside his. You turn your snood down from your head and fold it back around your neck. He’s smiling at you.
“Shall I put two and two together, or…?”
“Why does everyone want to do math around me all of a sudden” you mutter under your breath, turning your face away in embarrassment.
“Because your friends and us know you well enough, Buy’ce’ka” he winks at you while stirring one of the pans; he knows you met your friends last evening. Using your childhood nickname brings a smile onto your face. You took into your head to became an armourer the moment you touched your first helmet. You wore it all the time even though you didn’t needed to and told everyone who would listen that one day you’ll be making buy’ce’se, helmets, yourself. Even some of the tutors called you that instead of your real name.
You go to help with breakfast. It’s not the usual simple fare but the multi course, heart-warming, belly-filling affair for a special day. You remember with a sudden pang how Djarin is probably having ration bars on his own in a sparse guest room, or maybe some porridge if he remembers to go to the communal dining hall. You somehow hope he has company, even if he is fine with solitude. You are too, but you have all these people to recharge with. How alone is he?
You almost burn the mushrooms while getting distracted. You focus back on the food, and as the house slowly stirs awake, the members of your family show up one by one and greet you over stirring pots and chopping vegetables. When all is ready, Tis-buir calls to table and you move everything into the karyai. The heart of every home where most of life happens - eating, living, receiving guests, defense during a battle - is a spacious room, and you only half fill it.
It’s only your three buir’e who live here now, and one of your vod’e lives next door. She comes over with her riduur and their usually grumpy teen who fails to hide how happy they are to see you. You don’t even make an attempt to hide anything and after touching foreheads, you pick them up and give them a hearty squeeze.
“Ba’vodu! I’m not a child anymore to just pick me up like that” they grumble after you put them back down, and you pat the top of their head.
“You’re going to need to grow a little more, vodu’ad.” You smile at them, but they suddenly go nervous.
“Are you going to come home to my verd'goten?” they say, face solemn and showing them older than they are. You see this often: the fears of a foundling, someone who lost their roots once already. The little things that a person born into a mandalorian family would never worry about rear their head in them, and you hug them close.
“Well that’s an unnecessary question. Why wouldn’t I?!”
They make you promise to come back, and you let them make a reminder of the date and time in the form of a holo message on the comm of your vambrace. You have made their first helmet years ago and they barely can hold themselves back for a few minutes before asking about the possibility of vambraces. Their new pair, forged to include pieces passed down at both side of their family’s, are hidden in the house, finished months ago, waiting for them to prove worthy to receive them.
You wouldn’t miss the occasion for the world. You’ve been there for all your vodu’ad’s, the children of your siblings; and even some of your younger cousins and unrelated ade in your clan. As you eat with your aliit, your thoughts go back to Djarin again. He must be missing that foundling he was responsible for. Who does he have for family? He mentioned some friends who helped him through bad times lately. You hope he’s on the comm with them right now, using the covert’s better equipment to reach them after having to do with what the Brick has for weeks.
*
You spend the day chatting, visiting the elder of your clan and more family, and one of the old warriors of the clan too, to receive her last blessings. She might still be alive the next time you visit home; she might not. You are thankful for being able to say goodbye to her. You visit the Forge last, and help out with whatever work needs doing with the other masters, until it’s time to leave for the dock.
You almost start to make excuses to prolong your stay before steeling yourself. Twenty-four hours, a standard day, that was the schedule you agreed on with Djarin. Unless he comms you that something came up on his end, you’ll leave in the evening.
*
The first thing you spot in the hangar is the shiny armour. That suit looks good at every angle, at any distance. Than you feel your ears flush when a little voice says in your head how that might be partially because the person under it makes it look good. You try to shove the thought to the back of your mind.
As you draw near, you can see he’s talking with your elder Thrilla. Your heart does a double-beat as all your thoughts from before come flushing back for a moment. No. They must be talking about his mission, not you. And he’s basically clan-less, or at least elder-less. It’s good to see him seeking the guidance of an elder too.
He’s standing in that hip-twisty way you’ve seen him do, with one hand on his belt. It’s a strangely relaxed and playful stance from a person who’s usually as focused and sombre as him. Thrilla glances up at you, the black of her visor glinting in the blue and green helmet. Than she shoos you away with a barely visible battle sign, turning back to Djarin. You’re a bit surprised, but make yourself scarce. Than you spot a grey head near the cargo ramp of the Brick. It’s Kad, Thrilla’s riduur and a mechanic who had helped to rebuild your ship. You go over to greet them before getting on with the preparations to leave.
This time you two will be away for longer and will travel further away. The trail to known coverts had dried up, and from now on you will be going by uncertain informations and rumours. You have experience in that, but the fact that he used to be a bounty hunter should help. You often spend days just trying to pinpoint which spaceport, which town, which mountain or cave or farmstead is the one you are looking for. You hope his expertise will help.
Your hopes are proven right. He reduces the hunting time to hours, and you scramble to finish preparing your tools and equipment.
“Nice job, hunter” you smile at him. His helmet turns towards you and he nods.
“You’re welcome, armourer” and you hear the smile in his voice too. Than you mentally chase away the butterflies that suddenly seem to have taken over your stomach.
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un-beel-ievable · 4 years
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Before October’s Gone (Mammon × reader) | songfic
Author’s note: Please do not repost!! If you like my writing, please leave a like and a comment (and follow me to see similar content in the future :D)!
Inspired by Cimorelli’s song Before October’s Gone! You can listen to it here.
One of the longer fics I’ve ever written...I hope you guys enjoy it! I worked really hard on this one :3
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♪ Our phone calls got shorter
And the nights they got longer
You stopped replying
And I saw you with her
You tell me you miss me
I feel special for a second
But then you turn around and show me that you didn't meant it
I listen to your voicemail from last September
And I bet that you don't remember leaving it
But it's all I got
My last piece of you ♪
“Mammon!” The chirpy voice at the other end of the line made up for the weeks that he’d missed hearing it. Curse Lucifer for implementing the stupid roster for phone calls —having to wait his turn while his brothers got to listen your cheerful voice and melodic laugh was beginning to drive him up the wall. He understood why Lucifer would have to put such a rule in place for his brothers, but surely the peacock could loosen up a little for him right? The others may be “eating up too much of their time”, but such an offensive statement could never be applied to him. After all, he was your first. “Yo! How’ve ya been? Wait, lemme guess. You’ve just been wanderin’ around in that sad, depressin’ human world with no place to go and nothin’ to do...right?”
You laugh, and his heart does a somersault in his chest. How he’s missed it. Nothing in all of the three realms could make him happier than hearing the sound of your laughter; it’s like music to his ears. Knowing that he was the one that drew such an adorable sound from your lips was the cherry on top. The first time he’d heard you giggle, he’d sprinted back to the House of Lamentation to begin devouring joke book after joke book to ensure his chances of getting to hear it again. Hearing his brothers criticize him for acting like a fool had always been something that bothered him in the past, but your arrival had put a spin on things —if amping up his antics was something that got you to crack a smile, he was all for being the butt of his brothers’ jokes. “How’d you know?”
He grins. “What did ya expect? I mean, I was your first, right? Your first demon. Which means we share a special sorta bond! I know these things!”
Another laugh. Mammon wonders if he should shoot for a third time, but you don't give him the chance to try. “Listen, Mammon...it was great hearing from you, but I have to go.” The bitter taste of disappointment fills his mouth. He’d been looking forward to this phone call with the eagerness of a child awaiting to open their Christmas presents...and you had to leave already? The two of you had barely even talked for 5 minutes! That’s so unfair! “What? Already? C’mon, we barely got to talk—”
His whine of complaint cuts off abruptly when he picks up on the sound of someone else’s voice on your end of the call. Curious, Mammon turns up the volume of the call and strains his ears. It’s a male’s voice, one that sounds awfully familiar… He frowns. “Is that Solomon?”
“Yeah! We’ve been hanging out a lot more ever since we returned to the Human World! Keeping each other company and all that. Let me just pass him my DDD, I think he wants to say hi—”
“Nah, don’t bother. Y’all have fun, I’ll talk to you again soon.” Mammon hangs up before you can get the chance to say anything else and flops back against the pillow pile on his unmade bed with a sigh. Solomon, huh? The two of you sticking together made sense —after all, you were the only two humans living in a realm of demons for an entire year. Of course you would form a bond over this shared experience. Still, the idea of you hanging out with Solomon frequently didn’t sit well with him. He was your first, if anyone should be hanging out with you, it should be him.
Envy was Levi’s thing, not his. But there was no stopping the jealousy that was blossoming in his chest. In an attempt to keep his emotions in check, Mammon powers on his DDD and pulls up the voice message that you’d left him a few months ago. You were still residing in the Devildom then, back when he didn’t have to resort to playing back an old voicemail to make him feel less lonely.
If he closes his eyes, he can almost convince himself that you’re lying in bed beside him, and not by someone else’s side an entire realm away.
♪ I heard all the rumors
I didn't want to believe it
You barely mentioned her once
I didn't think anything of it
Sitting there on my driveway
Said you could listen to me all night
Now you're the boy who never meant it
And I'm just the girl who "took it all the wrong way" ♪
You’d always been fascinated by the sports car that he kept permanently parked in the upper floor of his bedroom. The both of you had gotten into a playful argument over justifying the reason behind his “absurd decision” (your words, not his). Out of the dozens of possible reasons that they’d managed to come up with during the hour or so their discussion had lasted, your personal favourite had been “to allow a quick escape from one of Lucifer’s extensive monologues”. He hadn’t even bothered to come up with a counterargument for that. One, it wasn’t entirely false; he wouldn’t deny that getting behind the driver’s seat in order to get away from one of the peacock’s pointless lectures wasn’t a thought that had crossed his mind on more than one occasion. And secondly...the expression that you wore while you were coming up with all of these ridiculous thoughts was just too cute. Your brow would furrow in concentration, and your tongue would peek out between her lips —you looked just like the cats that starred in those “cat blepping” videos that Satan would relentlessly spam his DDD with. The way your face lit up when you’d thought of a reason satisfactory enough for your standards was even more adorable —Mammon knew that as long as you kept directing that megawatt grin at him, he’d go along with anything that you said.
At some point during their conversation, the two of you had  relocated from the couch you were perched on to the backseat of his car. Mammon doesn’t even remember whose idea it was to move in the first place —he couldn’t recall if this was the result of you pleading with him to allow you to take a better look at the vehicle or if he’d suggested it to you first. He doesn’t even remember what the both of you had talked about once you’d gotten in the car; the topic of their conversation had switched course multiple times. What was etched into his mind’s eye for the rest of time, however, was how attentively you’d gazed up at him when he was talking. You seemed as mesmerised by his words as he was by yours. The notion that someone genuinely wanted to listen to everything that he had to say felt foreign to him; his brothers had brushed him off as nonsensical and annoying a long time ago. You made him feel important.
“...Mammon! HEY, STUPIDMAMMON! Did you even hear anything I just said? Sheesh…”
Mammon’s train of thought is derailed by a pillow that hits him square in the face. Normally, such an action would trigger a rowdy pillow fight that usually ended in Lucifer barging in and bringing an early end to an evening of fun. But today Mammon was so lost in recollections of the past that he barely even kicks up a fuss as he peels the cushion off his face. “Huh?” Levi raises an eyebrow at the second born from where he’s seated across the room. Mammon could be a moron at times, but rarely was he this unaware of his surroundings. “I said, did you see MC’s latest Devilgram post? They were at this Human World anime convention with Solomon, you know the one I told you about last week? The one that Ruri-chan’s voice actress was going to appear at? MC’s soooooooo lucky that they got to see her perform live. I can’t believe Lucifer wouldn’t let me go, it’s so unfair…”
Mammon usually tuned out of the conversation entirely whenever Levi starts going off on a tangent about something related to his animes, but the mention of your name had caught his attention. You were at a convention? With Solomon? Like...on a date? Mammon snatches up his DDD from where it’s lying on the armrest of his seat and loads up your Devilgram page. As usual, the sight of your bright smile is enough to cause his heart to skip a beat —you’re so breathtakingly beautiful that it’s unfair. But the sight of the male posing beside you in the picture causes his mood to turn sour quickly. Solomon. Was that the human sorcerer’s arm around your waist?
Flipping his DDD over so that he doesn’t have to look at the screen, he sets it back down on the armrest with enough force that it actually causes Levi to cut his ramble short mid sentence. Pretending that he didn’t notice the odd look that Levi was giving him, Mammon settles back in his seat and closes his eyes.
If there was something going on between you and Solomon, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know about it.
♪ On that October night when I let you go
You didn't even try to make me stay, no
I didn't know that you could be so cold
Like the Minnesota snow
Somehow I always knew we'd end up this way
And I hope you feel happy someday
I just wanted you to open up to me
But now that's on the list of things you never did ♪
Mammon had spent the last couple of months waiting for this moment. You were back. Back in the Devildom, back in your room in the House of Lamentation, back by his side. A new semester of classes was something he’d never looked forward to in the past, but things were different this time. A new school term brought copious amounts of coursework and misery, sure, but it also brought you back to the Devildom. You’d returned from your vacation in the Human World with bright eyes and rosy cheeks, armed with souvenirs for each and every one of your favourite demons. Mammon was thrilled by the small paper bag bulging with keychains and other assorted trinkets that you’d thrusted into his hands, but the one gift that he’d appreciated the most was the warm embrace that you’d pulled him into.
The next few days pass in a blur, with Mammon still finding it difficult to believe that you’ve really returned (he has to keep pinching his arm to reassure himself that this isn’t a cruel joke that his subconscious is playing on him). He'd been there to greet you upon your arrival in the Devildom. And he’d seen you during meals and passed by you in the hallways...but he hadn’t actually gotten the opportunity to spend proper one on one time with you —you were too busy settling in and making up for lost time with everyone else. Until now. 
Seated atop of a hill overlooking the rest of the Devildom, the vantage point gives the both of you a spectacular view of the expansive shopping district. You can even spot the town’s affectionately dubbed “party central” —also known as the area where most of the popular bars and clubs are located— in the distance; or at the very least, the colourful lights that illuminate every building in that part of town. It’s quite a sight to behold, but the hustle and bustle that can be seen even from a distance makes you appreciative of the fact that you and Mammon are far away from the crowds of Denizens enjoying an evening out. You shiver when a passing gust of wind rustles the leaves of the tree overlooking the bench you’re seated on.
“Cold? Let the GREAT Mammon warm ya up.” Before you can even roll your eyes at the suggestive nature of that statement, Mammon has shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it snugly around you. Not that you’re entirely surprised by his words at this point, this isn’t the first time he used that line with you. Just like every other time he’s done this, he doesn’t remove his arm afterwards, keeping it draped around your shoulders. But unlike the previous times he’s pulled this stunt, you don’t nestle into his side, or even lean your head against his shoulder. He feels a pang in his chest, but he refuses to let it show on his face. “So how was your vacation in the Human World? I bet it had to be pretty borin’ without the GREAT Mammon there to keep ya company.”
“It was alright.” A pause. “Listen, Mammon...There’s something that I need to tell you.”
The smile that Mammon’s attempting to keep plastered to his face wavers, but he nods at you in encouragement as you chew on your lower lip anxiously. When your next course of action is to raise up your left hand instead of carrying on the conversation, his brows knit together in confusion. He’s about to ask if this was some kind of odd ritual and whether or not you’d joined a cult in your absence, but then he spots it. The glint of silver on your ring finger.
His jaw drops.
Noticing the expression on his face, you hurry to clear up any misunderstandings before he —understandably— jumps to the wrong conclusion. “It’s not what you think! I’m not engaged or anything, it’s just a promise ring. Solomon and I...we got together two weeks ago. I meant to tell everyone, but everything’s been so crazy ever since I got back —I’ve barely had the time to catch my breath, let alone make such a big announcement.. But now that thing’s have quieted down a little...I wanted to tell you first. After all, you are my first demon.”
The Avatar of Greed was uncharacteristically quiet as you rambled on. When he finally speaks up again, his voice lacks the boisterous energy that usually radiates from him. “I am, aren’t I?”
A low chuckle rumbles in his chest, but there’s no humour in the sound. “You should head back to the house without me. I’ll catch up.”
“Mammon—”
“Look, don’t worry ‘bout me. I’m fine.” Mammon takes both of your hands in his and gazes up at you with earnest wide eyes, as if his overexaggerated acting skills were enough to sell his words to you. Ridiculous as it may be, his ploy seemed to work —or perhaps you just didn’t care enough about the hailstorm of emotional turmoil that flickered in his azure hued gaze. It didn’t matter. Either way, you were gone before Mammon could change his mind and convince you to not to leave him. Tears pool in the corners of his eyes and blurs his field of vision, but he doesn’t take his gaze off of you as you disappear down the path that leads to the House of Lamentation.
You don’t even bother to turn around and look at him.
♪ Maybe sometimes things just have to end
Maybe sometimes there's just no explaining it
But you could've let me know
You'd be moving on
You'd be moving on
You'd be moving on before Octobers gone ♪
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minicoopdetat · 4 years
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Hey is that [GREGG SULKIN]? No, that’s just [AUGUST COOPER]. They’re [TWENTY-THREE], and have spent [THREE MONTHS] in Dayton. I hear that they’re kind of [OPTIMISTIC], but also [OBNOXIOUS]. Did you hear their vices are [PARTYING & SEXTING]? Can’t wait to see [HE/HIM] at the next party! 
full name: august levi cooper 
nickname: cooper. mini coop. coop de tat
age: twenty-three
date of birth: april 2
place of birth: dayton, ca
zodiac: aries
gender: cis-male
nationality: american
sexual orientation: heterosexual
romantic orientation: heteromantic
relationship status: single *
PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES.
height: 5’10
weight: 166 lbs
hair color: brunette
eye color: hazel
need glasses/contacts? yes
tattoos: he has seven ‘dragon balls’ in various places ( 1:inner wrist, 2: inner wrist, 3: shoulder blade, 4: hip , 5: behind his ear, 6: back of neck 7:ass); nightwing symbol (ankle); squirtle squad shades ( coming soon )
distinguishing marks: scar on his right leg from crashing his moped 
BACKGROUND INFORMATION.
hometown: salinas, ca
current residence: dayton, ca
past residences: salinas, ca
living arrangement: family home; phaedra’s old place
spoken languages: english, japanese, vulgar words in various languages 
financial status: loaded by proxy
education level: high school, college ( BA biological science )
occupation: vet tech
FAMILIAL INFORMATION.
father: maxwell cooper
mother: elizabeth cooper
siblings: maxwell cooper jr (36), summer cooper (34; heartborn), dawn cooper (32), buzz cooper (30; heartborn), willow cooper (28), skye cooper (26; heartborn)
children: none
pets? Satoshi; “foster” dog
other: phaedra cooper; grandmother
PERSONALITY.
positive traits: loyal. optimistic. passionate. outgoing. confident
negative traits: loud. tactless. gullible. dramatic. reckless 
likes: nightwing, late nights. martial arts. dbz. music. animals ( all kinds ). parties. soccer. hockey. movies. sex. pokemon. learning new things. tarot. philosophy. sunny days. tiger king ( joe exotic ). social media. tik tok. family gatherings. sexting. 
dislikes: waiting. twitter. strategy games. opera. reading. bullies. people who go out of their way to make someone else feel stupid. injustice ( the video game...and the other thing he guesses ). seeing other people treated like shit. sad sacks. clutter. messy landscaping. carol fucking baskin. animal abuse. 
quirks: knows karate and aikido. Has a 3rd degree black belt and used to teach in college. owns and drives a moped. loves to record himself ( mtv cribs style ). is really great with kids. surprisingly organized, his place is pretty spotless. doesnt wear shoes unless absolutely necessary. has a skin care regiment. 
moral alignment: neutral good
THE RUN DOWN.
CHILDHOOD; 
Cooper was born August Levi Cooper to Elizabeth and Maxwell Cooper on April 2nd twenty-three years ago in Salinas, CA.
His siblings like to refer to him as the family’s April fools surprise.
One reason being is he was very much an accident. The plan was always 3 biological and 3 adopted children. A large loving family blended with those born from blood and those from the heart.
While Cooper was unexpected, he never felt it growing up. A family consisting of nine different personalities is bound to have disputes and there have been a lot over the years, but they’ve always loved each other deeply. Family was important, a top priority always, and Coop grew up surrounded by love.
As a kid, he was always going a mile a minute. Always jabbering on, always into something. His mother, Elizabeth, never seemed to mind. If anything she embraced it using a somewhat free range approach to raising her children. She let them do as they pleased as long as they practiced reflection and responsibility after. The consequences were theirs whatever decisions were made.
So if he wanted to take apart the toaster, fine. He had to put it back together. If not? He would be working to pay for a new one. Want to stay up all night watching anime? Fine. If he fell asleep and failed his quiz the next day? The tv was gone.
It was a process for Cooper, who multiple teachers recommended that he take some form of medication for his outbursts and inability to follow directions without being distracted or derailing the entire class. His mother refused, but she did begin to focus on helping him regulate and make better choices.
Did it work? Eh. But he managed to scrape by.
But where he lacked impulse control, Cooper made up in kindness. He always the first to volunteer to help, whether it involved the teacher or another student. He’d give away  his lunch money to someone he thought needed it or sit with the kids that seemed alone, talking their heads off about the latest thing he saw on late night tv. 
He was the kind of kid you dreaded and loved all at once and if you ask him, he’ll tell you his childhood was a wonderful thing.
Some highlights include, starting Karate at age 5. Martial arts was one, if not the only way, to really get Cooper to slow down and focus. It was and still is a passion for him. He earned his black belt by age 9, his second degree by 11, and his 3rd by 14, making him one of the youngest in the county to have a 3rd degree blackbelt.
Began learning Japanese at age seven. It started as self teaching, but eventually his parents brought in a tutor. 
ADOLESCENCE; 
As he hit his preteen years, Cooper began to play sports. Soccer was his poison of choice and he was good...but some of the other kids found him to be odd. He was the youngest of seven, so there were always jokes made about the rag tag crew or about how he spent more time talking about japanese cartoons, comics and superheroes than he did the sport or the usual topics. Small, he was picked at, but Cooper? He never really noticed.
He was the butt end of jokes, but always the first to laugh. He was confident, even then, that the things his ‘friends’ did were often in good fun and never to take advantage of him or be malicious. Even when his trips to the principal's office became more frequent and his detentions began to pile up, he insisted things were fine. He was loyal and they just had different ways of showing their friendship to him.
He was sixteen when a new kid moved to town and his friends turned their attention to him. Coop thought they were looking to welcome him into the fold, he was a bit quiet, always reading, kinda awkward, but the more time they spent with him, the more Cooper started to notice the shit way they were treating him. The jokes they had used on Cooper, they were funny to him, but this kid? Not so much. It didn’t take long before he began to see their relationship with this kid and their relationship with him? They weren’t harmless and in one very explosive day, Cooper not only stood up for the kid, but may have broken his best friend’s jaw.
He was ousted from the soccer team. Fine. He needed new friends. Fine. He had one and that was fine with him. He took it all in stride. Stayed confident and though he had a nasty mark on his record, his parents were proud he finally stood up for himself and someone else. In the end, his dad able to make it go away, but still.
That summer, on a mission to be his own man and less of a sheep, he began frequenting the local game shop. He’d play in the pokemon league, try out various boardgames and chill. It became a home away from home and where he met Callum ‘Goodie’ Goodrich, the closest person to a little brother he’s ever had. 
They started as rivals, which some might consider odd considering the age difference, but Coop respected the kid and his skill. It was never an angry or aggressive thing. Goodie had a sense of humor and Coop was too easy going and before long they were exchanging tips and just hanging out for the sake of hanging out.
When things began to get rough for Goodie, Cooper didn’t ask. It wasn’t his business, but he began to notice a change...so he began inviting Goodie home for dinners, hang out sessions, etc. His family didn’t mind, if anything they enjoyed having him around and soon Goodie became an honorary Cooper.
In the three years that followed, Cooper juggled a lot of different things. He began helping at his dojo as well as the local animal shelter and his partying streak started up.
At eighteen, he was granted access to the ‘family ranch’, his parents attempting to let their children get whatever they needed out of their system. Rather than sneak around and drink or smoke or fuck, the ranch was available. It was a risk, especially for his father, a judge, but as loving and great as his family was? Their moral code wasn’t quite in line with the rest of society. His father had no qualms as long as they had some common sense. Were there hiccups? Yes. But they managed. There were six before him, so by the time Cooper came around, they knew what guidelines to lay down.
It was wild year, definitely one of the most fun he’d ever had. His grades though? They suffered. School wasn’t exactly top priority and to him, that was fine. Why did a bunch of numbers have to dictate his life?
It wasn’t until he decided he wanted to help animals for a living did he realize good grades were probably a good thing. But by then it was too late to get in anywhere prestigious. Which was fine. He made his bed and he was quick to figure something else out.
He decided on taking a gap year so he doubled down on volunteering and started learning aikido while continuing his partying and hanging with Goodie.
Or at least until he disappeared. One day he just...stopped coming in. Cooper figured he was sick or just rough off, but when he couldn’t get in touch with him, he genuinely began to worry. He even went as far to check the news...and saw the headline. It hit him hard and his dad, despite being in the court system, had no info. That whole summer, he had to just, keep checking out the shop and hope he’d run into him. But as the days went on, it became clear his friend was gone… hopefully to some situation that was much better.
Cooper finished up the summer and went off to school the next August.
TWENTIES; 
Not that he went far. He spent four years at a college between his home town and Dayton, CA. Phaedra, his grandmother, and his grandfather helped him pay for his schooling so he began visiting Dayton during the summer. He spent most of it in Salinas but he’d spend a few weeks in Dayton.
His time in Dayton was mostly spent helping Phaedra or working at the local shelter. But by the time he hit 21, partying was added to that roster.
One bachelor’s degree and a certificate later and here he is. Vet school is something he’s thought about but his grandfather passed away last year and Phaedra needed some assistance with the house. 
So while she’s off jet setting to ease the pain, Cooper’s taking responsibility for the upkeep of her Dayton home. He has no clue about home repair, but he’s more than happy to squat, make sure she’s not robbed and start work in a town that’s always kept him hype.
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miraculouscontent · 5 years
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Oh boy.
[Pacebreaker]
Because I’ll have to keep bringing it up otherwise, let me start out by saying that the pacing in this episode is atrocious. I’ve seen some bad pacing in Miraculous before but this is close to the bottom of the barrel if not the bottom of the barrel.
Let me run down how this episode breaks up its scenes:
Fighting/Resolving Gigantitan: 2 minutes and 18 seconds (0:30-2:48)
Setting up the plot: 1 minute and 7 seconds (2:48-3:55)
Establishing characters feelings and waiting for Chat to arrive: 4 minutes and 35 seconds (3:55-8:30)
The most awkward get-together in Miraculous history: 3 minutes and 45 seconds (8:30-12:15)
wErEdaD, i Am hAwK mOtH: 1 minute and 25 seconds (12:15-13:40)
That Scene With Chat and Sabine That No One Wants to Talk About: 45 seconds (13:40-14:25)
Weredad Brings the Dupain: 3 minutes and 40 seconds (14:25-17:30)+(18:00-18:15)+(18:20-18:40)
Marinette Saves Herself: 55 seconds (17:30-18:00)+(18:15-18:20)+(18:40-19:00)
Ladybug Saves Chat and Tom: 1 minute and 15 seconds (19:00-20:15)
Resolution: 1 minute and 47 seconds (20:15-22:02)
This episode wastes time on scenes that don't have value so that scenes that should have value get no time at all. This episode serves to be little more than a Tom akumatization episode, yet Weredad doesn't even have 4 minutes of screen time.
And for what? By the 7 minute mark, I was officially bored. Everything drags on and on despite the fact that it's blatantly obvious where things are going to go. The timing for some scenes even sound correct at a glance, but then the scene itself shows up and it's all over the place. In the scene with everyone having treats, Tom just jumps from awkward topic to awkward topic.
And the scene with Gigantitan didn't need to be anywhere near as long as it was. The episode spends too long re-establishing Ladybug and Chat's relationship when one or two lines would've been enough. The pacifier was an extra detail that not only isn't resolved, but that didn't need to exist.
Marinette got a giant lucky charm jammed through her room; Chat could've just wanted to check on her and found it weird that she was on her balcony so late at night (unless she'd been watching the action, which gives him the idea that she's a fan of his). The episode even tries to run with the idea that Chat would always be there for Marinette and always check on her, but he certainly wasn't concerned when her room had been destroyed late at night when she was likely inside of it.
And then the episode spends so much time establishing how characters feel about the situation when it's already been made clear. Adrien talks about it to August (I've noticed that this show doesn't care to have characters just think to themselves instead of talking out loud) about it first, then talks to Plagg, then talks to Plagg again the next day.
The pacing doesn't just need tweaking. It needs an entire makeover.
[Dia-slog]
The dialog in this episode is so contrived. It's so stilted.
Let's start with the very beginning of the episode, since that's where a huge pacing issue is. Because the episode wants to re-establish Ladybug and Chat's relationship (which it already does later in this scene and verbally by both leads later), it has Chat flirt with Ladybug mid-battle and wastes a scene of Ladybug slamming into an Adrien billboard just so she can fawn over him.
Put bluntly, it feels like one of the chibi shorts with dialog and the show's models, right down to the fact that everything is a lot of "jokes" (Chat trying to kiss Ladybug before she gets flung off so he misses his chance, the billboard, Ladybug's giant lucky charm that was apparently useless since it's in the same place during Miraculous Ladybug which means it was just a gag of Ladybug holding something heavy and also a reason for Tom to rush to Marinette's room despite the fact that an akuma being near their house at all is more than enough reason, etc.).
And I have to talk about that scene with Chat finding Marinette because there are so many things wrong with it. Not Marinette even, because I get that she's anxious and panicking and went for the first thing that came to her mind that would distract him enough, but there are serious issues with Chat's dialog.
Firstly, Chat sees Marinette on Marinette's own balcony and somehow finds that suspicious. Chat has been to Marinette's house multiple times as both Adrien and Chat; there's no excuse for this.
Secondly, Chat starts out mentioning Ladybug's de-transformation. The scene is very clearly set up for Marinette to think that Chat's about to suggest that she's Ladybug. It's not, "This isn't the first time I've seen you near a fight," or "This isn't the first time I've caught you right after a battle." If Chat is trying to imply that Ladybug isn't around but Marinette is so Marinette must be one of his fans, it still makes no sense because, again, Marinette is at her own house.
This episode already had pacing, dialog, and character problems, but even the setup was inherently flawed.
It didn't have to be about a big misunderstanding. If it had to be about Tom getting akumatized out of anger for Chat, the episode could've had Tom seeing Marinette and Chat together multiple times (whether that's because Ladybug de-transforms and runs into Chat, who takes her home, or a meta joke on how a lot of akumatizations tend to happen around Marinette), which then leads Tom to think that Chat must love Marinette (if the episode wants a misunderstanding so badly, it can be a small one: maybe Tom does talk to Marinette, but she thinks he's talking about Adrien when he refers to her love life), only for Chat to explain that he loves Ladybug and incur Tom's anger because it's as if Chat is leading Marinette on. That even brings up the fact that Chat has an issue with mixed signals.
Also, and I cannot stress this enough, but the narrative needs to stop pointing out Marinette's lying as the core issue without offering solutions. Tikki does it all the time and she never learns. Marinette rightfully argues with Tikki that she had a reason for doing it and, once again, Tikki deflects and keeps focusing on what Marinette caused. Instead of offering solutions and instead of offering comfort, Tikki waffles around the issue and leaves all of Marinette's arguments hanging without a proper answer.
Tom isn't safe from poor dialog choices either. In fact, he might be one of the worst examples, whether as himself or his akumatized form. To keep the plot going, Tom has to constantly brush off what other characters say, except when it's relevant to the plot they're trying to tell. This means that Chat and Marinette can't be blunt until the moment where Tom is meant to be akumatized.
This also means that Chat has to sit there while Tom rambles for eternity and asks Chat pressing questions. Chat sits there eating sweets they offered him when he knows that he's about to reject Marinette. It pads out the episode because the writing is panicking to build up the big moment and it's the same thing with Marinette's big reaction to Chat: a big setup.
The episode doesn't even know what it wants to be either. It seems to want to establish Marinette and Chat's feelings on each other at first, but there's a complete 30-second derail of dialog re-establishing Adrien’s issues with his father just so it can come back for a 35-second scene with Weredad later.
And because of poor pacing, the dialog in that scene with Weredad is rushed beyond belief. Tom's whole reason for getting akumatized was a want to never let any boy near Marinette again, but a 10 second speech from Chat suddenly has him like, "okay then actually--"
And speaking of Chat's speech, it's completely ineffective from a comparison standpoint! Adrien wasn't even isolated in this episode. In Season 2 "Glaciator" or "Captain Hardrock", MAYBE, but the problem is rarely isolation nowadays; it's Adrien's dad being so rarely there for him.
That's the difference. Tom was actively caring for Marinette and Adrien's dad is just too strict. Fixating on the over-protectiveness would've been so much better.
And...isolation? Weredad has specifically said that he was going to be there for Marinette. Gabriel isn't there for Adrien, but Tom would be for Marinette. The comparison between Gabriel and Tom isn't invalid (honestly, I appreciate a little nuance ignoring the fact that humanizing the main villain might not be a great idea), but it boils down to little more than something only established for Tom in this one episode.
Here's a thought: maybe instead of the episode focusing on something that's here and gone, it can focus on something that can be slowly improved and has already been a thing.
How often have Tom and Sabine comforted Marinette? How often does Marinette have to go to someone else for comfort? Heck, the only scene in this episode of one of the parents comforting anyone is Sabine comforting Chat (and trust me, we'll get there).
Maybe the parents learning about listening to Marinette? This could've addressed the fact that Gabriel and Tom+Sabine are on opposite sides but have similar problems.
Gabriel is very absent and doesn't listen to Adrien. Tom and Sabine are very attentive (or at least they think they are) yet don't pay attention to Marinette's feelings unless Marinette makes it clear (whether verbally or otherwise).
"Gamer" was Tom and Sabine constantly interrupting Marinette and Adrien's time together despite Marinette's clear discomfort, even going so far as to talk to Adrien about the fact that Marinette talks about him all the time.
When Marinette got home in "Lady Wifi", looking wholly exhausted, Sabine asked no questions and was like "oh hey Alya brought your bag home go get some exercise to help work on your forgetfulness ya scrub."
"Simon Says" had them ground Marinette as if that would solve all her issues (disregarding the fact that it's a ridiculous consequence when the place she was absent from were school activities which they can't stop her from trying to go to) instead of looking at things emotionally and worrying about why Marinette is missing classes.
It took Marinette having her privacy invaded and sobbing hysterically in "Troublemaker" before Tom and Sabine actually do anything of value and, even then, they fight off the people running the show instead of one of them being upstairs to comfort Marinette.
Even disregarding the fact that "overprotective father" has already been done (both in the show and done to death out of the show), it's aggravating that Tom and Sabine both have actual issues that could be addressed but the writing pushes them in a different direction. Sabine rambles about how she always tries to calm Tom down, but she made very few attempts and most of them led to her just smiling and letting Tom go about things.
The dialog feels wrong because it is wrong. It's not natural or flowing because the episode is holding this tightrope of a plotline as all the characters desperately try to walk across it without falling.
[Fairy Tale of Woe]
I'm keeping this one simple. From my calculations, this episode has, at most, six minutes of screen time on Weredad and his vine prison.
Six minutes is not anywhere near enough time to mash together multiple fairy tales so it’s a jumbled mess. It's nothing more than a set piece.
Fairy tales rarely mesh well together. That's why they're their own self-contained stories. I see what they were going for with Marinette being trapped and saved and fairy tale romance and whatever, but it just doesn't work.
And why fairy tales at all when it comes to Tom's character? Tom might dream of Marinette having a fairy tale romance, but Tom doesn't explicitly reference fairy tales or act like he's a huge fan of them. He's obsessed with baking for the episode instead.
"Reflekta" gave Juleka a very vibrant and attention-grabbing appearance to fit with her want to stand out. "The Evillustrator" turned Nathaniel into the hero in his story. "Stormy Weather" made Aurore into a weather girl who could force all her predictions to come true.
"Weredad"...why would Tom want to be a wolf creature? Powerful and quick on his feet, I can understand, but why a wolf? He's a baker and talks about it often in the episode, so this just doesn't fit at all.
[That Scene With Chat and Sabine That No One Wants to Talk About But We're Gonna Talk About It]
Oh, Chat. Chat. Chat. Chat.
I really hope this isn't a trend. I'd prefer to not go into each episode of Season 3 worriedly wondering, "Is Adrien/Chat going to do [the thing] again?"
So...the scene.
There are a total of three major issues with this scene.
First issue: Chat not going into enough detail about what he did wrong. The episode fixates on him not returning Marinette's feelings, but he stayed way longer than he should've when he only went to reject Marinette, brought her a rose thinking that would somehow help the situation, and kissed both of Marinette's cheeks to greet her. It's frankly no wonder why Tom was so sure that Chat was in love with Marinette; just like Adrien, he's constantly mixing up his words and the actions he takes.
Second issue: Sabine comforting Chat at all. I have no issue with Tom and Sabine doing things outside of Marinette, but this is a huge offense. Marinette went up to her room “sobbing” and instead of going up to check on her, Sabine stays downstairs to talk to Tom. Tom goes overboard, sure, and he didn't go upstairs to Marinette either, but he thought Marinette was legitimately hurt and he cared. Sabine makes her stance pretty clear at the end of the episode by basically saying that "oh marinette is strong and she can handle herself." Sabine is hardly involved in Marinette's life unless it's a special occasion or "hey marinette clean your room or i'll go through your emails," yet the second Chat comes in all upset, Sabine is immediately at his side and comforting him while also side-giving a "told him so" at Tom's behavior (something she gives to Tom personally at the end of the episode too). I'm all for Marinette's parents having confidence in her but this doesn't qualify in that field. It's just bad parenting.
Third issue: This has to do with the actual thing being talked about here: specifically, Sabine telling Chat that his feelings are valid. I can forgive Sabine on a few points, because she doesn't have the full story, but Chat says right in front of them that Ladybug keeps rejecting him. That's a big red flag. It'd be one thing if Chat simply said that he was in love with someone else, but even then, this is shown as a good thing that Sabine is doing for Chat when it's not. This is enabling Chat to keep on loving Ladybug and keep on pursuing her because that's what he feels is the right choice. If anyone should be told that their feelings are valid, it's Ladybug. Ladybug is constantly made to feel bad about rejecting Chat in any endeavor, but when it's time to start giving out sympathy cards, Ladybug doesn't get one. Chat's right, Sabine's right, but Marinette/Ladybug is wrong because she doesn't agree with Chat.
Chat can learn that it’s fine if he’s not in love with Marinette, but not that it’s fine if he continues pursuing Ladybug against her wishes.
[Nomance]
It's honestly difficult to talk about the details being discussed in this episode without derailing into a 3000 word discussion about "Will They, Won't They" plots, but I'll try to keep it brief.
This episode was a mistake. I don't mean that it's a mess all over because of the pacing, dialog, and character moments.
I mean, it is, but that's not what I’m referring to.
I’m saying that the idea for it never should've been approved in the first place.
"Will They, Won't They" is very thin ice territory that needs to be handled with care and grace. With the love square, the show gets around some of the problems by having the protagonist and deuteragonist already technically be in love with each other, but having the conflict be getting them to see the other side of their crush in the same light.
It was never a good idea to directly address Marinette's feelings for Chat and Adrien's feelings for Marinette in this way. There is no feasible way it could've gone well.
People do not like it when shows trying to directly retcon and/or put new meanings to scenes that were originally supposed to be vague and open to fandom interpretation.
Adrien does not love Marinette. That's just a fact. There's no denial, no hidden meaning...it's just the truth that the episode points out multiple times without even a shred of restraint. If there was any remaining hope left that Adrien loved Marinette after Kagami came in and Adrien showed genuine interest in her, this episode completely crushes it. If Adrien did love Marinette in any way, there would've been a moment of him acknowledging that instead of constantly shooting down the notion to Plagg.
That means that all of these
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were lies. They were teases. They were bait. They didn’t mean anything.
And Chat's entire personality in this episode constantly 180s from having a massive ego to being totally self-conscious. He swaps from "obnoxiously egotistic" to "reminding everyone that he isn't in love with Marinette" to "getting another stamp on his sympathy card because he needs one more stamp for his free sundae."
Once again, mid-battle, he's flirting. Instead of helping Ladybug hold back Gigantitan, he not only ignores the battle entirely to flirt, but he tries to kiss her. Ladybug is flung into the air, slamming into a billboard, but Chat doesn't apologize for being distracted. Instead, he catches her and continues flirting like fighting Hawk Moth isn't serious to him at all.
He hasn’t learned anything. Chat faces no consequences from flirting inappropriately because any damage done while he's distracted with chatting up his crush (who is in love with someone else and he is aware of that fact) will immediately be fixed by the magical ladybugs.
This is the episode where Chat gets his feelings for Ladybug validated and it starts in the worst possible way for it.
This was never Marinette's episode. This was never Tom's episode. This is Chat's episode.
There's so little focus on Marinette being amazing and saving herself because this isn't about her. That's why there's no big moment of Chat being like "whoa Marinette saved herself she's even more amazing than I thought." Chat never even learns that Marinette broke the rose herself; he probably presumes that Ladybug did it. He fawns over how great Ladybug is for "saving Marinette" when it was Marinette herself who did that (the episode easily could've had Marinette mention that she broke the rose and then Ladybug showed up). Ladybug gets credit from Chat for the things that Marinette did, furthering the divide between the "two girls" in his mind.
Chat gets the big speech to Weredad. Chat gets the screen time where he talks about his feelings. Chat gets the sympathy and comfort.
This episode wanted nothing more than to make Chat feel valid. That's literally it. It's why everything is so contrived and Tom's overprotectiveness comes out of nowhere.
It's also why Adrien is not even mentioned once by Marinette's parents.
Tom and Sabine know that Marinette loves Adrien. That's been canon since Season 1. It's not like Marinette fake-confesses and they presume that he must Adrien behind the mask, which is why Chat stays so long so he can convince them otherwise (which would've actually been funny and left Adrien freaking the heck out for multiple reasons; bonus comedy with them deciding that he must not be Adrien in the end).
Marinette "confesses" and there's not one word from Tom and Sabine about Adrien, who they actually seemed to like and were rooting for Marinette to be with. Neither of them ask if Marinette had a fight with him or if Marinette just changed her mind.
And Marinette is the one who's given the "hints" that she might be in love with Chat, what with her being unusually angry at the idea that Chat might've changed his mind on who he loves when she "wasn't interested."  And sure, she's given lines about being happy that Chat isn't in love with her, but Chat's the one being put in the right and given sympathy. He's the one whose feelings we're told are valid.
Thus, the only reason Marinette isn't included must be because her current feelings aren't.
Listening to what a lot of people were saying about this episode, I’ve heard it be related back to fanfiction. To a degree, I can understand.
"Weredad" does have a lot of traits of fanfiction, what with its plot and simultaneously having the writing ability of amateur fanfiction.
But, in reality, "Weredad" is not like a fanfic.
A fanfic would progress the characters’ emotions, however sloppily. A fanfic would care enough to make a plot like this matter. A fanfic would make the characters’ feelings change in some way from start to finish.
A fanfic would be better than this.
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Eijiro/Takara one-shot from Eijiro’s PoV [kind of a bonus chapter, but also kinda separate]
So...this is an idea I’ve had for a while, but @elite-guard-hardygal and I were talking and they did this challenge where you write something nonstop in, like, an hour or something, so I thought ‘yeah, let’s do it!’ and out came this last night but then I was too tired to post it so I went to bed. Take this thing as you will. 
Like the title says, it’s kind of a bonus chapter, but not really. It’s just my brain trying to explain Eijiro’s feelings and actions around Takara, and how they’re changing. Anyway, I’m also tagging @dailyojiromashirao , @souskena, and @fandoms-fandoms-everywhere99 but feel free to ignore guys! Next chapter of Takara’s Hero Academia is coming soon, okay!
Hope you all like this little one-shot! :)
God Bless and Good Day! 
~The Lupine Sojourner
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Eijiro really wished he could Harden his stomach so he wouldn’t feel nauseous as he headed on to the bus for the practical entrance exam for UA.
But, alas, he couldn’t, so he climbed aboard and sat down in misery. He wished the test would hurry up and be over already. He didn’t really even pay attention when someone sat beside him. “Hey.” He mumbles, not really even looking at the person and not expecting anything to come of it, his small smile half-hearted at best.
“Hello.” It was a girl, apparently, and she was responding, so Eijiro continued to face her. May as well use this as a distraction, right? Besides, his mother raised him to be polite, so he extends a hand.
“I’m Eijiro Kirishima.” The brunette girl smiles. He notices her brown eyes have flecks of blue in them like sapphires dropped on the ground. He blinks. Where’d that come from?
=#=#=#=#=
Walking into UA as a student was a surreal experience for him. Sure, he put it down as his top choice and gave the exam his all (with that girl, Takara, right beside him. Teaming up with her was awesome, even if it felt a little like cheating due to her earth quirk vibration thing), but to actually pass and get into UA? That was something else!
He could only hope he’d see more of Takara in the future. There was something so...genuine and outgoing about that girl. She wore her heart on her sleeve and spoke her mind. She wasn’t afraid to do what she wanted and help those she could along the way.
Eijiro thought she was very manly, in her own ways. Like Crimson Riot said, manliness wasn’t dedicated only to males. It applied to any gender. And Takara...Takara was manly.
“Hey, Eijiro!” Speak of the angel and she shall- -angel?! Wha- -no, no, no! Contain yourself! Eijiro scolds himself internally.
“Hey, Takara!” He replies, swallowing the emotions bubbling up in him at calling her an angel, even if it was just in his head. She’s standing in the UA uniform, stockings beneath the skirt and looking absolutely made for UA. She definitely belonged here. Beside her was her father, Present Mic. It was...weird seeing him as a teacher, not some DJ or announcer, but Eijiro played it cool. Present Mic nudges Takara, whispering something that makes her blush and- -holy shit she’s so cute when she’s blushing!
Wait...no, no! Stop thinking like that! You just met a few months ago! Stoppit! Eijiro growls at himself, praying his face was still neutral as Takara hisses in reply before turning back to Eijiro, looking a little embarrassed. Damn, she was cute! Friends can think friends are cute, right?
=#=#=#=#=
Watching Takara as excited as he was for the rescue training was torture! How was he supposed to concentrate on the training ahead when she was sitting right beside him and positively bouncing in excitement?! In her hero outfit, too! That outfit looked outstanding on her like she was born to wear it. His outfit felt super lame in comparison, but Takara had liked it, even blushing a little as she complimented it, so Eijiro felt a little better about it.
Eijiro was admittedly surprised when Tsu compared Midoriya’s Quirk to All Might’s, but he could see the resemblance when he thought about it. However, there was a difference. Takara is first to point it out, smiling as usual. Izuku looks relieved when the spotlight was off him and Takara didn’t mind being the center of attention.
Eijiro envied that. He pretended he didn’t mind, that nothing bothered him, but the truth was he was camera shy and awkward when it came to being in the spotlight. Eijiro smiles, deciding to add to Takara’s note about All Might’s Quirk not damaging his body.
“Yeah, and that makes a huge difference.” Takara looks at him gratefully and Eijiro feels his heart swell a little. She was so cute sometimes. “Still, I bet it’s cool to have a simple augmenting type-a Quirk. You could do a lot of flashy stuff with it.” He was just thinking aloud now, holding up a hand and Hardening it. “My Hardneing’s super strong and can stop bad guys in a fight, but it doesn’t look all that impressive.” Takara shakes her head.
“Not true!” She counters. “It’s super cool! Makes you look like a badass!” Dear Lord she was too sweet! He bites his lip to keep from blushing. “I might draw attention using my Water or Earth Quirk, but I’ll take whatever damage I can’t dodge or block. You won’t.” He is surprised she likes his dull, boring Quirk so much, but he’s also not about to let her compliment him without something in return and says the first thing that came to his mind.
“But both your Quirks are so cool!” He blurts. Takara blinks. However, Izuku is next to speak.
“I think your Quirk looks really cool, Kirishima!” He says. “You’re definitely Pro material with a Quirk like that!” Eijiro squirms a little sheepishly.
“You really think so? Seems like it’d be easier if I had something flashier.” Eijiro couldn’t believe it! Two people, each with amazing Quirks of their own, liked his stupid Quirk?! His heart fills with happiness, and his eyes lock on to Takara.
“Nah.” She says, smiling genuinely at him. “It’s not what the Quirk is, it’s how you use it that matters. You can have pretty much any Quirk and still become a popular hero if you’re willing to work at it and learn how to use your Quirk better. Mom and Dad taught me that when we started working on my Quirks together.” Eijiro smiles. He was happy she had such an outlook, but it was hard to believe her when there was a lifetime of evidence that his Quirk wasn’t impressive at all. However, if Takara said his Quirk could be impressive, he’d put in the work to prove her right. He’d show her that she was right to believe in and support him.
“I’ve been wondering, Takara.” Tsu interjects, derailing the previous conversation, “I know the Yamadas are your parents, but...you don’t look like them.” Takara squirms a little and Eijiro is about to intervene to save Takara from an obviously uncomfortable topic, but Takara then clears her throat.
“We-well, Mom’s my godmother.” Such a simple statement, but what an impact it had.
The unspoken truth settled in Eijiro’s mind. She was once orphaned, taken in by her godmother and raised in a family she wasn’t born into. Suddenly, everything about Takara seemed a little clearer: why she didn’t have siblings, why her Quirks were so different than the Yamadas, and why she really didn’t look much like them at all. Eijiro found a new appreciation for Takara and looks at her in awe. She was so strong to have been through that and still come out smiling and happy and friendly!
=#=#=#=#=
When Eijiro saw the smoke villain suddenly appear in front of the class, only one thought rang through his head.
This will not be like middle school! I’ll actually do something this time! I won’t stand by!
When Eijiro leapt out at the smoky villain, he wasn’t all that shocked to see Bakugo leap out with him. What he was shocked at was Takara, though perhaps that shouldn’t have been that surprised, considering that she always was the first to defend her friends or help someone. Eijiro was happy he wasn’t alone, though. This was easily the most scared he’d ever been, regardless of the brave face he put on and the words he spoke.
When the smoke villain enveloped them in thick purple smoke, claiming their objective in attacking the USJ was killing All Might and the students, Eijiro instinctively grabbed Takara by the waist, hoping he could keep her with him and protect her as the wind from the swirling smoke intensified. This was nuts! How were these villains supposed to kill All Might!? It was clear they’d thought this out, and Eijiro prayed they’d survive.
When Takara was yanked out of his grasp, his heart shattered. He hadn’t made a difference. He’d only made things worse by provoking the villain with his idiotic attack! Damnit! He could only wonder where Takara was sent as he felt himself free fall into a concrete floor of a building, hearing Bakugo screaming in rage, pain, and shock beside him. That hothead was not Eijiro’s ideal pick for a battle buddy, but he’d have to make due, he supposed.
When Bakugo and Eijiro teamed up, they were virtually unstoppable, turns out. They had this unknown connection allowing them to defeat the group of baddies in the earthquake zone (he thinks it’s the earthquake zone, anyway) with relative ease. Throughout the entire fight, Eijiro couldn’t stop thinking about Takara. He couldn’t do anything about it, though, til he got through these bad guys.
When he got to the main square, following Katsuki to start looking for Takara, he was stunned by what he saw. These guys looked tough! A hell of a lot tougher than the thugs he and Bakugo had taken down. Worst of all, they had All Might! The hero was held by some giant human-like...thing, the smoky villain’s warp quirk allowing the huge thing to subdue the Symbol of Peace. Then Eijiro looked around.
When he saw Takara, he nearly gagged. She was covered in blood and her leg was bent unnaturally. Her chest seemed...off and he races over in the middle of whatever unimportant thing he’d been about to say. Takara was so much more important to him than showing off or fighting right now.
When he picks her up, he nearly puts her back down when she lets out a loud hiss of agony. Eijiro set off with her in his arms. Everything else can wait. He had to make sure Takara was okay! She’d been so genuine and amazing to him since their chance meeting on the bus, so long ago, he couldn’t imagine losing her like this. He shudders at the thought of what would have happened if he hadn’t gotten to her in time. He looks over his shoulder as he carries her and sees All Might now free from the grasp of that giant...thing.
When he asks what happened, Takara replies “Nomu.” Was that huge thing that held All Might ‘Nomu’? Was it ‘Nomu’ who did this to his Takara? If he wasn’t so worried, he’d run right back there and make that bastard pay! Takara’s groans and winces distract him from his thoughts of revenge and remind him of his task. He had to protect his Takara! (wait... his Takara?! When did he start thinking of her like that?! That’s not appropriate or respectful at all!)
When he apologizes for not holding on to her (being too damn weak to accomplish his goals), Takara is quick to tell him he’d have been hurt, too. He understands what she’s trying to say and doesn’t take it personally. He still feels shitty for not keeping a grip on her when they were separated, even though Takara tries to tell him otherwise.  
When he sees his teacher, in worse shape than Takara, something breaks in him. Mrs. Yamada had been so brave, leaping down to hold off the villains like that, and now she’d been nearly killed. Turns out, the thing that hurt Takara also hurt Mrs. Yamada, and Eijiro is furious but unwilling to stray from his mission to protect his best friend (best friend was a safe title right? Not like ‘angel’ or ‘his’ Takara). He had to get her away from the fight!
When the other teachers show up, he can’t help breaking down, trying desperately to keep it together long enough to get her up the rest of the godforsaken stairs. Now that the teachers were here, things would be okay, right? He wouldn’t lose Takara, right? He was allowed to cry now, wasn’t he?
When he gets to the top of the stairs, his tears flow as he sobs for help. He’d never admit it aloud, but the stairs were so long and he was already so tired from fighting that he couldn’t keep hiding his terror and fears. He was so tired, but he couldn’t rest yet. Not til he knew Takara would be okay! His efforts couldn’t have been in vain, right?!
When Present Mic sobs briefly over his daughter, Eijiro’s own tears are added to the mix. If he’d been there, he’d have been able to help. If he’d been stronger, this wouldn’t have happened...
When the Voice Hero charges Eijiro with looking after Takara, he takes it very seriously, making sure to stay with her in the ambulance ride to the hospital, where he reluctantly had to stay in the waiting room, the minutes ticking by slowly, every second torture.
When he’s finally let back to see her, he races to her room, stopping to compose himself before walking in. He didn’t want to appear too desperate or weird...even though she likely wouldn’t care. She was so sweet like that.
When he sees her, when he knows she’s okay, the painful worry in his chest lessens a little.
When he sees her, everything’s a little better. Just a little. He then sees her cast and bandages and feels the guilt and shame return full force and he can’t help voicing it.
When he expresses regret for not holding on to her again, falling back into those dark thoughts, she is there with soft, gentle words that lift the crushing guilt and shame he felt a little.
When she tells him ‘I’ll be okay’, he believes her.
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spidergwenstefani · 5 years
Text
Aaaand these are the last bits I’ll post, but here’s the intro to a high school AU and a moment from my DC crossover chapter 2
Clint lets his converse thud against the diner counter, sipping on his strawberry milkshake and trying really hard to ignore the unreadable look Natasha is giving him.
She wants something.
Natasha makes him free diner food all the time. He says it’s because she doesn’t like having nothing to do. She says it’s because he can’t be trusted to feed himself on his own. They both pretend it’s not because Clint’s stomach is always growling and his wallet keeps getting emptied into the my-idiot-brother-needs-more-money fund.
So he gets free diner food any day of the week, which makes the plate of fries in front of him not at all amiss. The milkshake, though? Natasha never makes him milkshakes.
Not unless she wants something.
“What do you want?” Clint asks, but only once the milkshake is halfway gone. Natasha leans over the counter, playing up the puppy dog eyes and pouty lips because they both know popping the buttons on her old-timey waitress uniform isn’t going to work on him.
“Tony Stark wants to ask Steve Rogers to the homecoming dance,” she says, twirling his straw wrapper around her finger in a way that’s not at all casual.
“Steve hates Tony,” Clint says, because he does. The two of them have been at each other’s throats since Tony came to town last year, all loud and gilded and grating against everything Steve Rogers has ever been about. Natasha rolls her eyes.
“Steve thinks he hates Tony. He won’t shut up about him.”
“He won’t shut up about how much he hates him,” Clint says. Natasha balls up his straw wrapper and flicks it at him.
“Trust me, if they spend a little more time together, Steve will get his head out of his ass and realize Tony’s trying harder than he thinks he is.”
“What does this have to do with me?” Clint’s getting a brain freeze so he abandons the milkshake in favor of fries, stuffing a few in his mouth as Natasha dials the pout up even further. Never a good sign.
“Where Steve goes, Bucky goes. And Bucky really does hate Tony.”
Clint pauses his work on the plate of fries. Bucky Barnes is like Steve’s bodyguard. Ever since they were kids and Steve was still a scrappy string bean of a thing. He’s got the looming death glare down to a T, but he’s more than just a scowling accessory. Bucky’s one of the most popular guys in school. Probably the most popular, now that they’ll be starting senior year. He’s charming and handsome, the star quarterback even after Steve hit his growth spurt and joined the football team. He has a cherry red Mustang convertible and a varsity letter in football and track. He’s so far out of Clint’s high school experience that thinking about him tends to make him dizzy.
Natasha is giving him a searching look, so he swallows his mouthful of fries.
“I still don’t get it.”
“You’re impossible,” she says. “If Bucky’s there while Tony’s trying to woo Steve, it’ll never work. We need you to hang out with him, get the two of them apart so Tony has a chance.”
Clint drops one of the fries, the ketchup he globbed onto it splattering on the linoleum. He makes a noise of disappointment, ducking below the counter to pick it up.
“Why am I the one hanging out with him?” Clint asks, voice muffled as he tries to reach the fallen fry without getting off his stool.
“Because Bucky Barnes has had a ridiculous crush on you since sixth grade.”
“What?” Clint comes up too fast and slams his shoulder into the underside of the counter, sending napkin dispensers rattling and knocking over a few laminated menus. By the time he manages to get his head above the counter, Natasha is barely holding back laughter. She hands him a napkin which Clint takes resentfully, glaring at her as he wipes the ketchup off his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me?” It’s not a joke. Natasha never jokes about things like this.
“Clint,” she sighs, pushing the shake towards him. An obvious yet effective distraction technique. “You literally ran away and joined the circus. Twice. Bucky Barnes brings trouble everywhere he goes, and you find enough of that on your own.”
“That’s just because he hangs out with Steve,” Clint mumbles as he drains the rest of the milkshake, although they both know that’s only a little true. His head is spinning, and not just because he slammed it on the counter.
“Which brings us back to the original topic,” Natasha says. “Will you help me or not?”
“Why are you so invested?” Clint digs the cherry out of the shake glass, popping it in his mouth, stem and all.
“Believe it or not, I do get tired of drama sometimes. As entertaining as all the unresolved sexual tension is, I’d rather see Steve and Tony just get over themselves.”
“So what?” Clint asks around the cherry stem in his mouth. “You want me to go out with Bucky? You think I could seduce a guy who won homecoming king two years in a row?” He spits out the cherry stem, years of habit making him proudly show the knot to Natasha before he can remember he’s sort of mad at her. She just smirks.
“Maybe show him that trick.”
Clint can feel himself turn red, pointedly ignoring the comment.
“Just because he liked me a while ago doesn’t mean he still does. I can’t compete with, I don’t know. Sharon Carter. Or Bobbi Morse.”
“You’re an idiot,” Natasha says fondly, reaching over the counter to ruffle his hair. “Trust me, he’s halfway gone on you already.”
>>=========>
“So what, I just walk up to him and ask him out?” Clint squints up at the blue of the sky. It’s been three days since Natasha presented her plan to him. Three days of Clint’s head being filled with nothing but Bucky Barnes and his dark red letterman jacket. To make matters worse, school’s started again, and Clint’s head full of Bucky Barnes daydreams keeps getting derailed by the presence of actual Bucky. Clint spent the whole first day tripping over himself every time Bucky said hi to him. And then he spent all of lunch mulling over how Bucky’s always said hi to him.
“That’s usually how it’s done, yes.” Natasha says, combing her fingers through his hair. After Clint stumbling through day one of senior year like some crush-addled zombie, they’ve taken up their old spot on the bleachers of the football field. There’s always a mad rush in the parking lot, and Natasha is not known to be kind to permit drivers, so they watch football practices for a while instead. Clint’s laying on his back, head in Natasha’s lap.
“I can’t do this,” he groans, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Tony said he’d pay you.” Clint cracks an eye open to see Natasha’s amused smirk.
“Really? How much? Wait, no. That’s gross. I can’t believe I even thought about it. Oh. I feel gross.” He waves his hands in front of his face as if he can shoo the thought away.
The shrill sound of a whistle comes from down on the turf, weird and tinny through Clint’s aids. He pointedly does not watch the field. He knows Bucky’s running drills and he doesn’t need any shiny football pants added to the montage in his head.
“Well,” Natasha says looking at something across the field. “It looks like you won’t have to walk up to him.”
Clint bolts upright in time to see Bucky Barnes climbing the bleachers, blatantly ignoring the designated steps in favor leaving muddy footprints across the seats. He has his helmet tucked under his arm, his face sweaty and glistening under the sun, but when he beams at them, Clint feels blinded for an entirely different reason.
“Hey,” Bucky says a little breathlessly as he stops a few rows below Clint and Natasha. “How was your summer?”
Clint just gapes at him, any conversational abilities evaporating at the sight of Bucky Barnes combing his fingers through his sweaty hair. He hates Natasha. He hates her for planting this seed in his head. This never used to be a problem.
“Pretty uneventful, you?” Natasha jumps in, and Clint loves her. He loves her so much for saving the moment before he stretches it into an awkward silence.
“Same. I spent most of the time helping my dad at the garage.”
And that’s a real shame, because now Clint’s head is swirling with images of Bucky in a tank top, mechanic jumpsuit tied at the waist and engine grease smudged along his bicep. He must have made some kind of noise, because now both Bucky and Natasha are staring at him expectantly.
“Do you want to see a movie on Friday?” Clint blurts out, too loud and not at all smooth. Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up and his helmet slips right out from under his arms, clanging against the metal of the bleachers. He scrambles for it, missing the way Natasha pats Clint approvingly on the arm.
“Wha- this Friday?” Bucky manages, and the small part of Clint’s stomach that didn’t drop into his shoes starts to feel a little giddy at how much Bucky is blushing. He recovers a little bit, gripping his helmet with white knuckles “They’re playing E.T. at the drive in.”
“I love E.T.,” Clint says, and he does, but if Natasha held a gun to his head and asked him what E.T. was about at this exact moment, he wouldn’t be able to answer.
“Cool. Awesome. Cool.” Bucky has a big goofy grin to match Clint’s. “I’ll. Um. I’ll pick you up at seven?”
“Yeah. Okay. Seven is great.”
“Great,” Bucky echoes, hugging his helmet to his chest. Natasha clears her throat, and Bucky turns to her as if he’s just realized she’s still here.
“I think Steve’s trying to get your attention,” she says with a smirk. The three of them turn to the bottom of the bleachers, where Steve Rogers is waving his arms in the air.
...
“Start talking,” Batman orders, his eerily pointed gloves clacking against the keyboard. “I want to know exactly how much our universes match up.” He pauses, turning towards him, and Clint gets the sense that he’s being scanned through the opaque eyeholes of the mask. “Your name wouldn’t happen to be Oliver Queen, would it?”
“Nope,” Clint says, rubbing absentmindedly at his still sore wrist. “Try Barton, Clinton Francis.”
One quick search later and the computer yields no matches, which puts Clint more at ease than Batman. It’s nice to know there’s not another one of himself running around in this dreary universe, but Batman doesn’t seem quite satisfied.
“You don’t know who I am, but you aren’t phased by the cape and the mask,” he rumbles. Batman’s toned down the demon voice to a low growl, but he’s still got a hoarseness that could rival Wolverine. “You’ve seen plenty of our kind before. Who are the heroes of your universe?”
“Well,” Clint says, weighing his options for all of two seconds. Batman still gives him some major heebie-jeebies, and rattling off intel on his teammates might not be the best tactical move, but he needs to earn some trust here, not to mention his Earth has dealt with way worse threats than some guy in a bat suit that spends his nights beating up old-timey gangsters. “That’s kind of a loaded question.”
Batman leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. Clint get the sense that there’s one raised eyebrow behind his cowl.
“You mean you don’t have good guys? Sworn protectors of the common people?”
“Well, when you put it that way,” Clint huffs, because it kinda seems like the guy that lives in a Doctor Doom lair and dresses like a vampire on super serum is accusing his world of too much moral ambiguity. “There’s all the Avengers, obviously. Iron Man, Captain America, Thor, Black Widow. Our roster isn’t really set in stone, you know? And there’s the Young Avengers, the Defenders, the Guardians, the X-Men, the Fantastic Four, A-Force, the Howling Commandos, New Warriors, the Thunderbolts, uh, sometimes. Alpha Flight, if we’re counting Canada. Then there’s-”
“That’s enough,” Batman says, which is probably good because Clint hasn’t even gotten to the spin-offs yet. “No Justice League, then?” Clint snorts.
“That’s a little on the nose, don’t you think?”
“The Avengers?” Batman says. “The Defenders?”
“Well it’s not the Vengeance Guild is it? It’s not the Group of People Who Defend Things.” There’s a muscle twitching in Batman’s jaw, and Clint remembers a little belatedly that he’s not exactly a welcome guest. “So, um. No overlap, I’m guessing?”
“Not with the names you gave,” Batman says. He pauses, and his next words come out more cautious. “You’ve never met Superman, then? Or Wonder Woman?”
Clint tries really, really hard not to smile, because what is with this universe and names? Something must show on his face, though, because Batman sighs wearily.
“‘Captain America’ and ‘Iron Man’ aren’t better.”
“Yeah, I bet Superman’s name is a holdover from the World War II propaganda machine, and Wonder Woman is just a big fan of Black Sabbath.”
“You haven’t given me your name,” Batman says, more gravel edging into his voice. “What is it, Purple Arrow?”
“That’s just lazy,” Clint says, hopping down from his perch so he can puff out his chest properly. “No, you’re in the presence of Clint Barton, AKA Hawkeye. The world’s greatest marksman. The people’s avenger. The greatest sharpshooter known to man. The-”
“The public knows your identity?”
Clint deflates a little, because he was really just getting warmed up.
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jungkookienoona · 7 years
Text
The Meme and His Tutor
Part 12: The Time Jungkook Sang To His Tutor
Recommended Song: Just Come To Me by Homme
|All Chapters|
Summary:
You found that not much had changed since you left Korea as Jungkook continued to be a little shit. But there is one surprising development from someone you didn’t expect.
Genre: Fluff, comedy
Pairing: Jungkook X Reader (Y/N)
Warnings: Swearing
Word Count: 3878
Length: 12/?
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You had to admit you were a bit nervous. Sure you and Jungkook still acted normal when talking over Kakao (despite the rise in shirtless goodnight selcas) but talking over KaKao was different to seeing each other over Skype. What if the incident at the airport changed things? The entire flight home you found yourself awake, the events of your time in Korea playing on your mind. From getting coffee to cuddling up on the couch to the accidental kiss. When you landed you were exhausted from lack of sleep and trying to figure out how Yoongi could have pushed Jungkook so his lips landed directly on yours, but you dismissed the thoughts to the back of your mind. Things were normal. Things were going to be normal.
You sat in front of your laptop, criticising your crude Hangul drawn in Tippex on your keyboard as you waited for 12 o'clock to arrive. Maybe you should redo it... The Skype ringtone played out of your speakers turning your attention back to the time before answering. 4 minutes early. You ran a hand through your hair before pressed accept. Fuck it. Everything was going to be fine. Why were you acting so weird?
"Noona!" As if my magic, your frown was replaced by a bright smile that mirrored Jungkook's.
He was wearing his glasses.
"Hey, Kookie!"
"I miss you! It feels strange talking to a screen again."
"Yeah, it does. So what have you been doing today?"
Excitement lit up his features, "I've been working on some songs! Some to go on the next album and some just because."
You noticed he was twirling a pen between his fingers and grew curious.
"You seem troubled."
"Some of the lyrics...I don't know. They don't sound right." The pen stilled. "Would you listen to them?"
"Oh, I don't think-"
"Please? I need someone to listen before I submit them to Namjoon and the PDs."
"Um... okay then... if you really want to-"
"Thank You Noona!"
He was practically bouncing in his seat as he clicked away at a few things on his computer then a soft gentle rhythm sounded from his side of things. You could tell it was a rough draft, unpolished. A surge of excitement forced you to the edge of your seat as the realisation that Jungkook was singing you possible future Bangtan songs to you. You! Was this allowed?
His voice was soft, drifting lightly over the music neither distracting one from the other. He had even written lines for the rappers and you could tell he had specific members in mind for each verse. There was Namjoon's depth, Yoongi's  flow and Hoseok's tones. And they didn't seem to detach from the gentleness of the song.
You could imagine the complete song sounding a little like Young Forever. However, it sounded like something was missing. A bass line to give it some sort of strength. But then again, you didn't know what he had intended.
The music continued, yet he stopped singing and you turned your gaze to him.
"That's what I have so far. How does it sound?"
"It was good but there's something missing. And there are parts of the vocals that could sound better. Could you go through the chorus again?"
He did as you asked and you made him stop at a certain part.
"Ah! There! That would sound better if it was like this."
You demonstrated what you meant. He stared in shock.
"Y-you can sing?"
"Uh," you started to shake your head. "No, not really. I'm classically trained. Which is different."
"You can sing." He said definitely. "Your voice is beautiful."
"N-n-no. I never even finished my lessons. I'm so bad."
"Sing for me."
"No!" You winced at the sound of your shout. "I'd rather listen to you."
"But I want to listen to you." Jungkook seemed to scoot his chair closer and rest his elbows on the desk. "Would you sing with me instead then?"
You hesitated.
"What song?"
More clicking and then another song was playing. You recognised it as Sofa by Crush.
"If I'm really your bias you'll know the words to this."
He started, watching you expectantly, waiting for you to join in. You did at the chorus since it was the part you knew best.
"Niga itdeon sofa, neo eobsi na honja. I jarieman nama neol gidarijanha. (I’m alone on the sofa where you used to be. I’m here, waiting for you.)" He smiled as you began to sing and it gave you the courage to keep going. "So far nae gyeote neon so far away. Miryeoniraneun ge meonjiman nameun chae. Neol gidarijanha. (So far from my side, you’re so far away. I’m still not over you, only dust remains. As I wait for you.)"
After that, you sang the parts in the verse you remembered. You continued like that, singing the chorus with him then quieting down at other parts. As you approached the end of the song you noticed that he'd gone quiet. So you sang the few last lines as best as you could, even if it felt like your heart was going to fall our of your mouth.
"Y/N," Jungkook said, voice low and cautious. "Your voice is beyond beautiful."
You blushed, "It's really not. A-a-and you dropped Noona. What happened to formality."
"I'm too starstruck for formalities." He lowered his head as he chuckled. "I wish you were here so we could sing together..."
Your blush deepened and you ducked your head to hide it. You heard more clicking and an "al-assda (Got it)". You looked back up, curious.
"What have you got?"
He gave you a devious grin, "You'll see Noona."
"Did you screenshot me?"
"No..." So that was a yes, then.
"I will block you!"
"No, you won't."
"Yes, I will!"
"But you still need to teach me."
"Oh please. When I was in Korea your grammar dramatically improved and your vocabulary widened. You don't need me."
An almost desperate look took over his features.
"Yes, I do! I still need my Noona."
"But by the sounds of it, you don't need my help anymore. Noona's job here is done." You shrugged, trying to appear disinterested.
"My spelling and grammar! They're bad. I need help. Noona please!"
"Namjoon can help you."
"My handwriting!"
"How can I help you from a different country?"
"I need Y/N-chingu! I NEED YOU GURL!"
"STOP!"
"WAE DACHIL GEOL ALMYEONSEO JAKKU NIGA PIRYOHAE! (Why do I keep needing you when I know I’ll get hurt!)"
Your face screwed up.
"Who says I keep hurting you?"
"You broke my finger."
"Tae-oppa told me you lied and that it was just a dislocation."
Jungkook's eyebrows scrunched together realising he had been outed. He muttered something under his breath. Something about killing Taehyung.
"Why did you lie to me?"
He seemed to shrink in his seat, shoulders hunching in preparation for you to scold him.
"I wanted Noona to look after me."
You shook your head as you laughed. What would you do with him?
"Is it better?"
"Ye." He held it up to show you how he could bend it fully again. "I think Noona's kisses helped."
The word 'kisses' had your eyes growing to the size of dinner plates.
"Don't say that!"
"What? Why not?" His gaze flickered from his finger to you. "Did you think I meant...oh."
Why did he have to bring up kissing?
"Uhh-"
"You're blushing. Am I embarrassing you because of the kiss?"
"Don't~! If it was an accident then you shouldn't mention it!"
Though his lips seemed not to move, you heard him mutter something beneath his breath.
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
"Jungkook-"
"Yoongi-hyung shouldn't have pushed me. Kisses are too meaningful to happen so carelessly..."
You became concerned.
"...What did you do to him?"
"He got what he deserved."
Your jaw dropped. "You didn't hurt him did you?"
"So what if I did?"
"We do not solve our issues with violence. We get them to apologise."
"Did hyung apologise to you?"
"No, but he doesn't have my contact details."
He frowned.
"Then I should make him apologise."
"I'm not the only one. You were a part of the accident."
"Does... does that mean you kissed me back?"
"W-w-well there wasn't r-r-really a kisser or kissee. O-o-our lips t-t-touched and didn't m-m-move."
"I know how kissing works Noona."
He appeared unaffected by the topic of conversation, casually leaning back in his chair and grinning. You could kill him for how red your face was.
"I- can we not talk-"
"Are you embarrassed we kissed or because I'm bringing it up? Do you want to forget about it?"
"Forget?"
Did you?
Unconsciously, your fingers came up to touch your lips, a faint memory of spice causing them to tingle slightly. Well, you assumed it was the spice.  No, you didn't want to forget. It was a once in a lifetime experience.
"Friends don't talk about kisses." Your voice had grown quieter.
There was a pause. You picked at a thread on your sleeve, avoiding looking at the screen so you didn't know what Jungkook was up to.
"Noona?" You hesitantly lifted your gaze. "Are you angry at me for teasing you?"
"Why did you tease me?"
"You're cute when you blush."
Your gaze hardened in annoyance and a growl slipped past your lips.
"Don't call me cute!"
"What are going to do about it?"
He grinned, knowing you couldn't hit him like you had last time.
"I'm blocking you and I mean it."
"No, you won't. You love me too much to do that."
You choked on thin air at that. 'Love'. You... you hadn't really thought about it... No. He was your friend. Any love you felt was platonic.
"I'm still blocking you."
"Nooo~ Please don’t! I’m really sorry. I’ll do anything.”
Silence.
You fiddled with the hem of your shirt as you tried to think of something to say. His offer of ‘anything’ having temporarily derailed your train of thought. And then it occurred to you.
"These calls are meant to be lessons. But I haven't taught you anything so far today."
"It's okay, I like talking to Y/N-chingu."
"I like it too but you can't slack off."
He grabbed something off camera and held it up to show you a textbook. Part of the page had been highlighted in yellow and you could just make out some notes dotted around the edges. "I'm studying! Look, I've almost completed this book!"
Indeed he almost had.
"Seeing you inspired me to study harder!"
You smiled at the determination he had to learn.
"Aaaw. You're just adorable."
"I'd rather be called handsome but I'll take what I can get." Confusion was evident on your face. "How have your studies been? Your Korean was a bit too formal while you were here."
You went back to tugging at them hem of your top, ashamed of yourself.
"... I've been slacking..."
"Noona!"
"I'm sorry!"
"But look!" You lowered your laptop screen so the Webcam faced the keyboard. "I installed a Korean keyboard. I can now type in hangul."
You straightened the laptop screen and we're surprised to see Jungkook wiping his eyes.
"Are you crying?"
He shook his head, "I'm laughing. You know you can get stickers. You don't have to use...nail-"
"Tippex."
"Tippex to do that."
"It was an impulse decision. It was about 11pm over here and the shops were shut."
You crossed your arms over your chest and let out a huff.
"It doesn't mean you're not slacking though. How are you to teach if you can't speak the language?"
"Miming and charades?"
He chuckled.
"That's not quite good enough."
"Then next week we'll focus on correcting my formalities. But today let's just talk. Please?"
He nodded, bunny grin clear as day. And so you spent the rest of the lesson time talking about the things he did and what you were planning to do. It was only broken by his yawn.
"You should go to bed. It's late."
"Don't want to."
You folded your arms and raised an eyebrow. "My threat to block you is still available."
He yawned again. "I think it's time for me to go to sleep."
"Good BunBun."
He coughed a few times, caught off guard.
"G-g-goodnight Noona."
"Sweet dreams Kookie."
He waved goodbye with a small smile then hung up. You couldn't help but grin to yourself.
You went about your day, as usual, going to college and sending texts back and forth with Chubs. She was blaming you for corrupting her 'innocent’ mind. It made you laugh out loud and your lecturer to send you a disapproving look. You shrugged her off and used your phone to check your Tumblr due to the amount of notifications you were getting.
"What the fuck?"
"Y/N!"
You muttered a sorry to your lecturer and took the headphones from around your neck and plugged them into your phone.
On Tumblr, gaining notes by the second, was a video of you. Singing.
"Jeon Jungkook I'm going to kill you." You muttered under your breath, a few classmates shooting you confused looks.
The video was captioned: 'Noona jal noraehaeyo (Noona sings well).'
That wasn't the only video. There was one of him singing the song he was working on, mainly displaying your reaction: 'Gwiyeomb'. You reblogged both. Adding to one, 'Did I say you could record my singing?' And the other, 'You little shit'.
You got a response a few minutes later: 'No. I never gave you permission to dislocate my finger but you still did it.' Followed by a simple, 'I know.'
You noticed that someone else had reblogged from you. Someone had combined your’s and Jungkook's name to form a... ship name? It was called {ship name}archive. Curious, you clicked on the blog name and was taken to their page where you were greeted with something that confused you. Their header picture seemed to be a photograph of you and Jungkook together at the fair. But you never had a picture taken together. Upon closer inspection, you realised that the two separate images you had taken of each other holding the plushies had been photoshopped together to make it seem like a couple photo.
"What the...?"
Another look from the lecturer.
You scrolled through the blog. The description read: 'A blog dedicated to archiving the interactions of Jungkook and Y/N. The dorks.' Scrolling further down you saw the two videos they reblogged from you with various tags. Quite a few in all caps.
'THEY SANG CRUSH TOGETHER' 'HOLD ME' 'ok but real talk I'm crying' 'GUYS WHAT IS JUNGKOOK SINGING' 'IS IT A NEW SONG???’ ‘OMGOMGOMG'
This person seemed to be quite the fan of your interactions.
'OF COURSE HE CHOSE TO SING SOFA' 'CAUSE SHE LEFT' 'HE'S PROBABLY WAITING FOR HER NEXT VISIT' 'WHAT’S THIS OTHER SONG?' 'IT'S NOT IN ENGLISH AND I DON'T RECOGNISE IT.'
Definitely quite the fan. There were posts where the OP was upset about you leaving Korea. More scrolling revealed pictures of you adjusting Jungkook's mask at the fair. Underneath those images were the tags: 'WHY DOES IT LOOK LIKE THEY'RE GOING TO KISS' 'DID SHE TAKE IT OFF OR PUT IT ON' 'I'M SCREAMING I NEED TO KNOW'
Even further back were the screenshots you and Jungkook had taken of each other when Namjoon was still a part of your lessons. The captions and tags were a little less...aggressive back then but it was clear the owner had been shipping the two of you from the start. And then you found what must have been the very first post. It was screenshots of posts from other blogs asking for someone to create a blog dedicated to the ship. The blog owner tagged all the blogs they had screenshotted and said: 'Don't worry I'm on it.'
You put your phone down to bury your head in your hands, an exasperated sigh slipping from your lips.
"Y/N. Are you okay?"
You looked up to see your lecturer peering over your shoulder with a concerned frown.
"Yeah, fine." You gave her a grimace and picked your phone back up again, scrolling to the top of the blog, which took a good minute due to all the posts.
You clicked on 'my main blog' and were taken to a blog you found very very VERY familiar. It was Chubs' blog.
"NO!" All the heads in the classroom whipped around to you, including the lecturer. You muttered an apology and sank down into your seat as you stared at your friend's blog.
It was her. Why out of all the people on Tumblr did it have to be her?
You immediately sent her a text. 'You run a blog that ships Kookie and I?!'
The response was immediate. 'Depends. If I say yes will our friendship be over?'
'No.'
'Then yes. Hi, hello, it's me your daily {ship name} dealer. How can I help?...'
'Why do you run a ship blog? How did you get those pictures?'
'You guys are sweet together and I thought it would be nice for you and your fans to have somewhere to view your entire relationship...Someone anonymously submitted them to my blog. Why?'
'Just... There's some that look like they were taken by Jungkook. And the one of me adjusting his mask, I think that was taken by a group of girls that spotted us.'
'Oh...Maybe it was him who sent them to me... Idk...'
'There's no way Jungkook would submit pictures to a ship blog... unless he doesn't understand shipping.'
You stole a glance at your lecturer who was now sat at her desk doing god knows what, then sent Jungkook a message over KaKao: 'Did you know there's a blog dedicated to us?'
He responded a few minutes later: 'Ye! They have all our pictures! Isn't it cool?'
'Kookie... they want us to be a couple. In fangirl terms they 'ship' us.'
'They do? I tried to Google what it meant but I didn't understand urban dictionary. ARMY are awesome!'
'You're okay with it?'
'As along as you are. You know I'm your chingu and you're mine. It seems harmless...'
You let out an exasperated sigh.
'I... I guess it's okay. It is nice to have all are interactions in one place.'
'Exactly! Just don't tell them about the kiss... The owner keeps on saying she's dying. I don't want her to actually die.'
'There's no way I'm going to tell Chubs about the kiss.'
'Chubs? You know the owner?'
'She's a friend I met at the concert where you met me.'
'And she runs a blog about us! I didn't know that when I submitted those pictures!!'
'SO YOU DID SUBMIT THOSE PICTURES!!'
'IT SAYS ARCHIVE. I WANTED YOUR CUTE FACE TO BE SEEN BY EVERYONE!' A second later. 'Please don't block me I forgot.'
You took a long breath in through your nose and slowly exhaled through your mouth. The class members sat near you shuffled their seats away as if sensing your murderous intent.
'You forgot? Maybe I'll forget to unblock you and all that'll be left of me will be the ship blog.'
'Please don't Noona! This is cyber bullying. I'm telling Namjoon Hyung.'
'You do that and I'm flying over just to take Bae off you and then flying home.'
'Oh uh... Bae is called Honey now.'
'Why?'
'I thought about what you said and Bae was inappropriate.'
'But Honey is still a term of endearment. You might as well have called her Jagi."
'Honey's fur is golden. Honey is the colour of honey.'
'Oh, well, in that case, it suits her... But you tell Namjoon about the blog and I'll be taking full custody of her.'
'I won't. I promise.'
'Good BunBun.'
'Are you going to tell Chubs that I submitted the pictures?'
'Yes, she's curious. Maybe you two can strike up a deal if you really want to post stuff about us to there.'
'Okay, I have to go Noona. It's past my bedtime.'
'Goodnight BunBun.'
'And Noona.'
'Yeah?'
'Don't be mad at Chubs.'
You smiled at that and sent him a thumbs up emoji, not wanting to keep him up any longer.
You switched contacts to Chubs and typed out a message telling her that it was indeed Jungkook. She rectified the post to give photo credit Jungkook's blog. You were thankful she only reblogged and posted online interactions and submitted content. Especially since you sent her texts about the coffee shop and arcade. It was important she respected your boundaries, which she seemed to be doing so. And you just hoped Jungkook wouldn't give her anything to post that would be overstepping any lines. The last thing you wanted was your personal life everywhere for people to see.
You don't know why but you decided to search the tag on Tumblr, just to see.
Wrong move.
There were posts imagining scenarios, none of which took place while in South Korea. You smiled at the cute comments beneath reblogs of pictures, but there some not so nice posts bashing, mainly you, and your role in this 'relationship' with Jungkook.
'She clearly forced him to make her his tutor.' 'No way would Jungkook ask someone as ugly as her to be his tutor.' 'What kind of tutor goes on dates with their student?’ It hurt to read stuff like that and you hoped Jungkook would never come across those posts.
You continued searching through the tag until you saw something interesting. A video clip, taken from a fansite with the caption: 'The day they met'.
"No fucking way."
You pressed play and were met by the sight of you kneeling before Jungkook at the fan meet. With your back to the camera, all you could see was Jungkook's face. You saw his polite smile turn into a bashful one as you complimented him and he responded in (and apologised for) his once broken English. And then you laughed as it became a look of shock that was replaced by him passing you his pen and something to write on. You couldn't believe someone had filmed it. You couldn't believe it had only just surfaced. The you in the video turned to leave and you saw your own blushing face. So that's how they knew it was definitely you then.
The camera shook a little as the person filming moved but it smoothly zoomed in further on Jungkook's face which was pointing in the direction you had left the stage. His bunny teeth were just visible as he nibbled on his bottom lip.
Leaving had meant that you hadn't been able to see his reaction. He was rather proud of himself before turning his attention to the next person. You paused the video and run a hand through your hair. Now would probably be a good time to refocus on the lesson but you couldn't.   
Too many thoughts were running through your mind, distracting you from the task you had started. You put your phone aside, ignoring the Tumblr notifications buzzing through every few minutes and attempted to get back on task.
It was going to be a long day.
A/N: Co-written with @tragicshadows. It's her 18th birthday tomorrow!!! Let's wish her a happy birthday for then shall we? 
What did you think? Isn't Jungkook just a little shit for bringing up the kiss to tease her?  What do you think about Chubs and her sneaky blog? Make sure to comment (ask, message etc...) and let us know your thoughts!
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temporaryexpert-nyu · 5 years
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Topic 2 Proposal - Part 2
Interview with an expert: 
So as I mentioned previously, my older sister is an influencer (yikes). I thought that she would be the best candidate for an interview.
That was not true at all. Everything she sent me sounded scripted, rehearsed and strangely diplomatic. I should have known this. She watches way too many talk shows and celebrity interviews, I felt like Ellen. I know my sister’s real feelings, but she hide them on voice note, no matter how much I probed. 
So I moved on to Ismail. Ismail is my sisters friend/manager/drives her around/body guard/connections person. He’s lived in the UAE his entire life and knows all the ‘big names’, is around the influencers of the region daily. He’s kind of arrogant and I don’t like him but he does not know that. I still think he would have some good information? 
Okay so I just went through the voice notes (he sent thirty minutes worth) and everything he said was deeply boring, not insightful, and derailed completely for the last 15 minutes. It’s my fault, as I asked for voice notes so I could transcribe instead of speaking on the phone (iphone can’t record when taking a call) I’ll include the parts I transcribed under the ‘read more’ but man it is not worth even reading. I’ll have to try again using a different method next time. 
“ Basically you want to ask how these influencers are different in this region than in other plces in the world. First of all, the good thing about them is that they are always trying to do better than the other, so it’s a competition, the only thing is they aren’t competing with the ones outside the country. They are copying. Like the Kardashians, Amrezy….and if you look at the content…it looks almost the same…..Also what makes them different is the power of social media in the UAE is more higher I believe, because here the power of interaction is way more than outside. In other countries, brands talk more about the influencers and influencers actually influence about things. Like for example, idk who to name like Mariano (some Italian model). Now he’s a pro model, Italian, and he started modelling with brands, brands started talking about him, then he started his own clothing line, his own stle and if you notice him, he’s not promoting brands as much becaue he’s a
The outside region, they already know what they are doing. Like if I was an influencer I would be a fitness influencer, I would try to say good things like stay away from steroids but over here when they say I’m a fashion influencer, what kind of fashion are you trying to influence? Are you talking about classics/
Over here everybody is an influencer, they don’t know who they’re influencing. If someone says “hey there’s a restaurant can you come talk about the food”. Wait, one minute ago you were a fashion influencer? So what is she actually influencing?
I know a lot of people. Henna knows a lot of people but I know those people more than Henna knows so moving on the next question.
So the second question, what effect does this profession have on them? Some people took it as their career like this is what they want to do forever, and some people want to do it for fun….like if you….the thing is, being an influencer, you know you’re putting an expiry date on yourself. You start to fade…like musicians, like Jay Sean.  
(Goes on and on about this, completely ignoring the question)
To stay relevant everyone is doing the same stuff, it requires very little creativity and if you look around, everyone is doing the same thing. And you know exactly what I’m talking about.
(I mentioned in my questions my concerns like sponsoring particular products/services)
Say when it comes to influencers they want to look the best. Better than the competition. So they will do anything possible to take the shortcut. No matter what it is they will go to the highest of heights.  Because this is how the industry works. They don’t want to be a topic, because the word spreads around very fast.
So say if one of the influencers was not the same as they are on their social media, for example ‘im doing this good thing I tried this product’ but doesn’t actually use this product. For example, I’ve heard Khris Fade (popular Radio Star) say to my face about how he uses iphone but on air and at events he has to use Samsung because he has a contract with Samsung….do you know what I mean, so this is how these things work.
(derails the conversation completely, forcing me to listen to a twenty-minute voice note for no reason. I’m so annoyed.) 
When your into fashion everyone wants to have…the best jawline...abs…booty, they want everything and they want it to be perfect….Emily Ratatouille (He means Ratajkowski) ..Kim Kardashian.”
(Ignores the question and starts talking about his bulking at the gym) 
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imaginedilestrade · 7 years
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The Girl Next Door
A/N: Bit of a filler chapter this week and no Greg but don't fret he will be back soon! 😁 I hope you've all had a great week! (And to those who read 'Oh So Quiet' I hope you're all still holding up from that cliffhanger😅 don't worry it will soon be Monday!) ———————— Chapter 9 ————— "Hey!" You shouted entering Jim and Sebastian's flat, placing down your suitcase at the door "You two ready?" You asked. They had just arrived back from India late last night, you walked into the living room and spotted Seb lying sleeping on the couch. You couldn't help but smile through the guilt that was beginning to eat you up inside. "Hey Y/N" Jim's voice derailed your train of thought. He brought you in for a hug and as soon as he pulled away you reached for his left hand, squealing with happiness at the ring on his finger. "Ahhh! I'm so happy for you two! Seb told me he was going to propose to you! Congratulations soon to be brother-in-law!" You giggled and kissed his cheek "That sounds so weird me saying that," you smiled and Jim let out a snort of laughter "But I couldn't ask for a better person to be my brother-in-law, you make him so happy Jim" you breathed out and looked over to Sebastian. Jim raised a brow noticing your expression falling slightly "Is everything alright between the two of you?" He asked and you snapped your head round. "Of course!" You sent him a reassuring smile before quickly changing the topic "So Russia? Did you finally get that aristocrat to invite you over?" You asked. Jim nodded, humming a response "Yeah I did...there's a slight issue though" he gave you a sideward a glance that made your brow furrow. "What?" You suspiciously asked. Jim sent you an awkward smile "We have to be husband and wife" he nervously chuckled and your mouth gaped open slightly. "What about Seb? What's he going to do because I'm pretty sure he couldn't pull off being our son" you joked which eased Jim. He knew you'd be able to take this sort of thing and handle it with complete professionalism, after all it was part of your job and if that meant being Jim's pretend wife to carry out the task then so be it. "I've told them we'll be escorted by our personal body guard at all times which will be Sebby of course" he explained and you nodded your head. "And he's okay with me being your 'wife'" you made air quotations with your fingers around the word wife and Jim told you that he was perfectly fine with it. "It's only for the week and it's just to get closer to the aristocrat and his wife before trying out a new chemical weapon in them..." A devilish smirk creeped up on his face "If we pretend to be a lovey-dovey married couple they'll trust us more and let us worm our way into their lives before ultimately ending it". You smiled and rolled your eyes but a groan coming from the couch made you turn around "Hey Y/N" Sebastian groggily spoke and stood up to stretch his arms and legs. He slowly walked over to you and gave you a tight hug which threw you off a little but you wrapped your arms around him. "I'm sorry" he mumbled into your ear. "Me too" you whispered back and pulled away with a sad smile. Sebastian looked deep into your eyes before Jim caught his attention. Sebastian playfully rolled his eyes and motioned for you to turn around. You did and found Jim on one knee with a velvet box in his hand. You burst out laughing at how serious he being. "Y/N Moran, will you make me the happiest man in the world and be my fake wife?" He asked with pure enthusiasm. You let out a pretend gasp and dramatically placed your hands over your mouth and chest. "Oh Jim! I thought you'd never ask!" You stuck out your hand and he placed the ring on it with a giggle. Sebastian was behind you pissing himself laughing at the performance. "Is this real?" You asked eying up the large diamond nestled between two smaller ones. Jim let out a scoff "Of course it's real! I'm not having my fake wife wear a tacky, false diamond! You can keep it when we're done if you like it" he winked before pressing a kiss against your cheek. An hour later you found yourself on Jim's jet with him and Sebastian. You sat staring out the window as the plane took off, you wondered if Greg had got the letter you left telling him you'd be away for a week on business. You couldn't stop thinking about him. A tap on your knee distracted you from your thoughts and you turned to face Sebastian who sat directly across from you. You tilted your head back and found Jim sound asleep already "Hey" you murmured and looked back out the window again. "Listen, Y/N..." He trailed off and clasped his hands tightly together "I'm sorry for what I said, I know how it sounded..." Your eyes flickered up to Sebastian. Letting out a sigh you stood up and sat on his lap while your legs dangled over the side of the seat. You both wrapped your arms tightly around each other. "I'm sorry too, I made a dick move" "Literally" Sebastian snorted and you slapped his chest. You couldn't help but let out a laugh before your smile faded. Sebastian raised a brow "Please tell me you've been keeping your distance from him". Your silence was enough of an answer for him and Sebastian rubbed his face "Y/N this has to end now. It won't end well" he sounded sincere. Your heart clenched, you didn't want to stop what you had with Greg. You weren't entirely sure what it was yet but you were constantly thinking about what it could become. Greg made you happier than anyone. How could you possibly let your happiness slip out of your fingers? You stood up from Sebastian's lap with a broken smile and returned to your seat. Eventually arriving in Russia you and Jim dressed the part with lots of faux fur on your head and on the collar of your blood red coat. You were constantly feeling strands of fur on your face from the hat. "This thing sheds more than a cat!" You groaned and wiped away the bits on your face. "Or Sebby" Jim interjected and you giggled, looking over your shoulder to Sebastian who didn't look amused. Jim interlocked his arm with his and you left the jet with Sebastian following closely behind. At the bottom of the stairs stood the man and his wife who were soon going to be lying six feet under soon. How oblivious they were. "Hello!" Jim greeted with a smile, holding out his hand for the aristocrat to shake before shaking yours and giving you a friendly kiss on your cheek. Little did he know he was shaking the hand of death. His wife did the exact same although after it you found yourself in a deep conversation with the woman who was at least twenty years younger than her husband, her nose was covered in small scars from the plastic surgery procedures she's endured, expensive looking diamonds residing in her earlobes and her clothing was exquisite. They escorted you to the hotel Jim had booked. They stayed for a drink before leaving for the night, you'd see them both again tomorrow. "Ohh darling, I brought along my camera. Maybe we should get started on that honeymoon video? Sebby can film it" Jim winked. You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach as it tensed with laughter. Sebastian tossed a pillow at Jim but he caught it "You're disgusting" Sebastian rolled his eyes. "I think someone's jealous that were married" you teased and stood up before wrapping an arm around the back of Jim's neck as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pecking a kiss on your cheek. "This is hilarious, look how angry he is Y/N." Jim giggled "I think myself and Mrs Moriarty will enjoy this week very much" Jim squeezed you tightly. You noticed Sebastian's scowling face and pushed Jim towards Sebastian. "Go be with your real fiancée, we can be all 'husband and wifey' tomorrow" you settled down for the night in your bed while Jim and Sebastian curled up together in theirs. You let out a tired sigh and picked it your phone it was midnight in Moscow so it would be nine at night in the UK. You wrote a quick text to Greg telling him that you were missing him and that you were thinking about him. You also, for the millionth time, said you were sorry leaving last minute without saying goodbye and hit send before crashing out on the pillow. The following day you and Jim spent time with the aristocrat and his wife, Sebastian was always close by. The five of you were walking the grounds of their large estate. "Who's 'G x'?" Jim asked with a smirk and you felt the blood drain from your face to your feet. "Wh...what are you talking about?" You stuttered out and slowed your pace until you were out of earshot of the husband and wife up ahead and Seb. "I saw the text on your phone this morning, it was from someone called 'G' with a kiss beside the letter. It said 'I miss you too, can't wait until you're back x'". Jim's smirk grew with every word and you could help but roll your eyes. "Just a guy. That's all" you told him and focused your gaze on the two figures in front of you. Jim raised a skeptical brow "Hmm...are you sure?" You nodded and Jim let out a snort "Is he's your new pet?" "No, he is not!" You squeaked out with a smile "He's very nice but it's not going to last" you admitted. Jim's face fell slightly "Why not? Does he make you happy? If he doesn't I swear..." He tightly balled his hand into a fist. You placed your hand on his arm and gently squeezed it and he looked at you as you sent him a smile. "No he does! He really does! But," you huffed out and looked to the heavens for strength "We are just completely different, that's all". Jim gently kissed your cheek and sent you a sorry looking smile. "We should catch up to them" you motioned your head towards the couple "I mean they'll be dead soon, may as well be a tiny bit sociable with them" you giggled and Jim joined in. 'If only you knew' you thought to yourself and looked to Jim who was smiling away to himself. You then looked up at the couple who was smiling away and doing things that lovers do like hold hands and contently smile at one another like it will solve all of their problems. They wouldn't be like that for much longer. ———————— Tags: @viragannav @musingsofophelia @damnitman-jamlocked-inthetardis @heaven-bound-angel @mycdiary @anamericanplaywright @princesspeach212 @adorablebadger @cutie1365
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Text
What Would It Take Just To Find... Ch 1
In the Beginning
Day 1, 10:34
The group chat was absolutely buzzing, and Ex could hardly keep track of what was even going on. All he knew was that the phone in his hand had given an unearthly screech before opening up to an entirely different screen than the one he had been in. It seemed to start out with people nagging another person (Yoosung... with a star~*) to do well in school and quickly devolved into name calling and a minor debate on the topic of nepotism.
“This place really hasn’t been used recently, has it... Where’re the cleaning supplies...” Ai mumbled, swiping a finger at the desk right next to the entrance of the apartment and frowning at the layer of dust that was disturbed. 
“Master, I think you should look at th- Don’t just wipe the dust on your pants!”
Faithfully ignoring him as always, Ai cozied up next to Ex to read the screen. “Ah,” Ai supplied oh so helpfully. 
“I think we are starting to raise a little panic,” Ex said flatly, noting that the one under screen name 707 had finally noted their intrusion. At that moment, the computer on top of the desk also flared to life, and the chatroom soon mirrored itself onto the screen. 
[707]: Whoa! 
[707]: TWO INTRUDERS?!
[707]:
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[Yoosung★]: 
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[Yoosung★]: omg...
[Yoosung★]: There are TWO hackers in the chatroom!!!
“Not that I have any computer skills,” Ai sighed, taking a seat down to read the screen. Ex decided to sit down on the floor next to the rolling chair and kept reading from the phone.
[ZEN]: Dude, settle down...
[Jumin Han]: Who are you? Reveal yourself! Hey, Assistant Kang!
[Jaehee Kang]: Yes, I am here.
[ZEN]: You were so quiet, I thought you were somewhere else.
[Jaehee Kang]: Nothing was out of the ordinary so I was just watching.
[Jaehee Kang]: But I see something has happened.
[Yoosung★]: omg...
[Jumin Han]: Why are there strangers in our chat room?
[Jaehee Kang]: No one can enter without installing the private app that we use... it seems like they have downloaded the RFA messenger.
[Yoosung★]: I thought Seven only let us download it?
[Guest2]: And I thought apps were only for the phone an stuff?
[Guest2]: I’m typing at you from a computer rn.
[Yoosung★]: GAHHHH IT’S TALKING!!!
(Ai ignored the flat stare that Ex shot. It was not worth it and his ire eventually redirected.)
[Guest1]: ...’it’?
[Guest1]: That is rude and uncalled for. Master is not an ‘it’.
[Guest2]: ‘Master’ does not actually mind and minds more that you are calling said Master ‘Master’. -_-
[Guest2]: We’ve talked about this, Ex, smh.
[Guest2]: Well, it’s a bit late, but hello everyone. 
[Guest2]: To answer your question, I’m Ichihara Ai. Pleasure.
[Guest1]: ...And I’m Xavier.
[Guest1]: WHICH IS MY FIRST NAME
[Guest2]; HIS FIRST NAME IS CHARLES
[Guest2]: T-T Aw, c’mon, Ex. 
[Guest1]: NO. You tell that joke all the time.
[Guest1]: NOT THIS TIME.
[Guest2]: Awwww....
[Guest2]: ...?
[Guest2]: Hello?
[707]: Sorry. ^^; It was just pretty funny to watch you two, lol.
[Jaehee Kang]: 
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[Jaehee Kang]: THERE IS NOTHING FUNNY ABOUT THIS!
[707]: GAH! 
[707]: So scary!
[707]: T-T
[Guest2]: lol
 [Jaehee Kang]: How did you find out about this place? Where did you download the app?
[707]: Oh wait...
[707]: Just found something weird.
[ZEN]: What is it? Hurry up and tell us.
[707]: Just traced the IP...
[707]: It’s coming from inside Rika’s apartment.
[Yoosung★]: Rika’s apartment?
[Jumin Han]: Where was it again?
[Jaehee Kang]: The location is not revealed. I know it to be classified.
[707]: Anyway, someone must have broken into her apt.
[707]: It spoke just now so it must be a person. ^^;
[Guest2]: ...
[Guest2]: Q-Q Ex... 
[Guest2]: Are we criminals now?!
[Guest1]: -_- Calm down.
[Yoosung★]: WHO ARE YOU? HOW DID YOU GET INTO RIKA’S APARTMENT?!
[Yoosung★]: HOW DID YOU GET THIS APP?!
[Guest1]: We were invited.
[Guest2]: Q-Q Some guy asked us to drop in.
[Yoosung★]: ?!
[Guest2]: He gave us the password to the door and everything.
[Guest2]: Said it was because Rika asked?
[Yoosung★]: No way...
[Guest1]: ...You need not believe us. But if you are going to kick us out of your chatroom you had best do it soon.
[Guest1]: I would rather not be arrested for making sure Master’s Good Samaritan act would go well. We will evacuate as soon as possible.
[Guest2]: We’ll, ah, also leave the phone we were asked to drop off here, too.
[Jumin Han]: Quit shitting around.
“Ex,” Ai choked, barely bursting out laughing.
“No,” he said flatly, never taking his eye off the screen. The group was beginning to threaten them and he was beginning to lose his patience. Ai gently placed a hand on his hand and soothing ran fingers through his hair.
Just as well, the group derailed the conversation to the views on a video. Or maybe not. Jumin Han quickly got the group back onto questioning the pair of intruders. Damn. Though it seemed like Seven was finally running background checks on them.
In the meanwhile, it seemed like the group members were starting to introduce themselves. Talks of both of their genders and the member’s photos went up. Ai laughed when nobody recognised Jaehee’s picture. 
Out of nowhere (although he expected it at this point), Ai took the phone and snapped a picture of the two of them to add to the chat. 
It wasn’t a bad picture, per se. Ai, with wavy black bangs and a short ponytail, gave a cheerful smile, dark eyes glittering mischievously. Ex on the other hand served as a severe contrast. His fair skin and long, straight, blue-ish locks braided off to the side did nothing to make the glare from his sharp teal eyes and scowl less intimidating. If he had one complaint, it was that the lighting was so bad that it made Ai’s tan skin look darker, but from the enthusiastic way the picture was posted he had to guess that Ai had no cares at all about that. As usual.
[Guest2]: The grumpy looking one is Ex! I’m the cutie over there~
[ZEN]: WOW! You really are cute... 
[ZEN]: Sorry for us being so brash, the whole situation must be strange to such a cute little lady.
[Guest2]: o-o Ex...
[Guest2]: I never knew you were a little lady.
[Guest1]: I’m not.
[Guest2]: Should I start calling you m’lady?!
[Guest1]: If you are trying to piss me off, it’s working.
[Guest2]: Q-Q Help...!!!
“Don’t pretend to be so distressed when you’re laughing so hard you’re almost falling out of your seat,” he scowled. Ai simply gave him waggled eyebrows and pointed at the screen.
Oh. V had logged in. There was a little drama between him and Yoosung, but it seemed V was willing to at least hear out an explanation of why they were there. In the end, the boss man concluded that whoever Unknown was, he must have been entrusted to the task by Rika and that the two of them were to be trusted. With some coaxing, he managed to get everyone to relax and Seven began to explain things about the RFA when a picture got Ex’s attention. 
It was a black and white picture of Rika, apparently, hosting one of the parties that would be his and Ai’s responsibility but...
[Guest1]: Excuse me.
[Guest1]: But by any chance, did Rika...
[Guest1]: Frequent an old style church?
[Yoosung★]: Yes...? Why are you asking?
[Yoosung★]:
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[Guest1]: Master...
[Guest2]: That. Is the stupidest thing I have ever heard, Ex.
[Guest1]: It does explain things.
[Guest2]: No. No it doesn’t.
[ZEN]: ? 
[Yoosung★]: What are you two talking about?
[Guest2]: Mm... a while ago. We met someone named Rika who looked like that at a church but...
[Guest1]: Well, she and Master had a philosophical debate on things. 
[Guest1]: I guess she would think you a good candidate?
[Guest2]: That is absolutely ridiculous.
[Guest2]: I’d rather hear about what we’ll be needing to do.
Well, now that Ai was scowling at him, Ex decided it’d be a better use of time to jot down their responsibilities. 
This first day was going so well already, wasn’t it?
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Benjamin Carter - “Truth Without A Filter.” #1 “F*ck it.”
“I no longer focus on anyone else’s flaws. I could care less about their wrong doings or mishaps, whether they seem malicious or otherwise; I realized people are cruel, and this is our reality. I know that I control what I do, when I do it, and how I decide to do it, so when I see something emotionally provocative, out of place, dirty, “messed up,” or just plain wrong, I’ll either fix it myself, if it’s immediately affecting what I’m doing at that present moment, walk away, or just not mention it. It does not matter what others try to do to offend, manipulate, coerce, or derail me anymore. I’ve pretty much mastered the art of not giving a f*ck. As unbelievably difficult as it may seem to the average inexplicably and consistently angry Joe, when I get angry, I simply remember… The Karate Kid. No sh*t, you know, but just let me explain. I think of The Karate Kid, the old one of course, not the newer 21st century one that attempted to end racism, so needless-to-say, the good one; I think about the scene where Mr.Miyagi looked as if he was extremely livid, and about to commit an action due to that feeling, but instead simply honked the guy’s nose. Hell of a build up though, I have to admit; neck and neck with the Aristocrat’s Joke. To me, in that scene he exemplified the most perfect example of turning something highly tense, and emotional, into something completely insignificant. In a weird way, the day I gave up, was the day i assumed that scene as my new guideline to life. The introductory master of that fine skill i mentioned earlier. Sometimes however, I still have to remember that no matter what happens to you in life, no matter how angry you are, or how much you’re noticed, or anything else you do, or even anything that’s done to you, in this mundane monotonous excuse we all call existence; life goes on. Therefore I always know that nothing is worth being able to sit on my couch, or lay in my bed, smoke a phatty, and watch a good movie, show, or even read a good book. I could compose a tear-jerking musical number, or paint a breath-taking picture; or jerk it to little people porn. The point is, nothing is worth the freedom to do what you want, when you want to do it. The catch of course is, it has to fall into the legal precedence’s that a bunch of drunk, wood-toothed, powdered-wig enthusiast, wealthy caucasian “gentlemen” set for this fantastic country I had the “immense pleasure” of being born into, without request that is. The truth, you know, my truth, the one I never wanted to admit or accept, is that my life is 150%, totally and completely insignificant; everyone’s is, if you ask me. I figure no matter what you do with it, eventually it will be forgotten, or steadily declined in importance, or altered and changed, slurred, slandered, demeaned in some way, etc. etc. So I thought to myself, well, could this really be true? Am I being forced to realize that this grand individual perception of greatness that is me, is, well, not so magnificent? And more than that, are you saying I’m… average? No.no.no, impossible, I’m not special? I’m going to need some proof. Well, I guess that other part of me, you know, the one that urges me to base my actions on logic, in reality, on planet earth. Well yeah, that part. That part said, “Ok Divine,” wait I know, Divine? The blog says, Benjamin Carter? Well short off topic, my original name was Divine. Divine Prophecy. No sh*t, I’m absolutely serious; Divine F*cking Prophecy. A name I thought, after this life-changing epiphany would probably confuse or even piss off a few select people, who actually think names have a realistic association with that f*cked up illogical concept we call destiny. In my mind this is a sick thought process in the first place. What if a kid is named based off of a family pride? Something like, I don’t know, Adolf. Is that kid destined for “EVIL!” Probably not, stupid. So yeah, anyways, decided to change that bullsh*t with the quickness, and well, Benjamin Carter was born. So following that excerpt of information I never wish to hear myself discuss again, that part of me I was talking about earlier said,”Ok Divine, you want proof, well, chew on this f*ckface,”Every human being you can think of that’s actually made some kind of lasting, seemingly unforgettable change in the world, whether ol’ teresa or Kim Jong-Un; airgo bad or worse, spent or are spending, the entirety of their lives on one specific task. They suffered, and bled, and cried, and even died for their agenda, and all of that effort gave them the result of successfully being remembered from time to time for doing something annoying. But Hey! Maybe they get lucky enough to have an entire day of remembrance in their “honor.” Well, to those great men and women, I say, Congratulations retard, I I meant uh, outstanding human-being! You have been successfully remembered for being a nuisance to somebody, or you know, the other version of that, “Changing the world” or whatever. Then I say, “Now to the back of my mind you go; until next year this time, where I pretend to care again.” When I thought about this, in the privacy of my own unconformed, uncontrolled, open and truly independent mind, you know what happened next? I came into a life-altering realization. I began understanding that I could spend my entire life dedicated to making the world different, or hoping to be at least a part of some nobel cause, and the absolute best thing I could hope for, is that at some randomly selected time in existence I’d or something I’d done, when I’m old and irrelevant to most, or dead; would be remembered, and If I’m really lucky, maybe even celebrated, for about a day. One day of memorialized elation, for a life-time of selfless action, dedication, and to some degree - suffering. And on top of this, if what I did made it that far, would solely depend on whoever’s opinions matter most at the time. I realized I could spend my whole life, unsure of what may happen when I die, doing something to change the world for little to nothing in return; or I could simply stop giving a fuck about what the hell other people were doing, or feeling, or how they were living, or even how that living affected me. Then, your going to love this part, I just… started living. Living unconcerned, unmoved, unbothered, and unaffected by anybody else for any reason at all. I consequently assumed the, now much appreciated adjective to my personal repertoire, “Nonchalant,” or how I like to convey it, “Energy Efficient.” The point is, I came to a point of successfully neglecting my pride. I no longer acknowledge my ego, I have no worries, well, next to my own personal health and well-being of course; I’m always aware that, life goes on. Not just for me, but for people everywhere; for all of time, past, present, and without a logical reasonable doubt, future. To me I’d successfully found, true freedom. I guess to sum it all up really, if you’re the kind of great person that appreciates the concise version of things, “I embraced the asshole in me.” Subjectively speaking of course, more or less.”
Stay tuned for Part 2 to this: “How I do it.”
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