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kopikokun · 4 years

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Spilled Drinks & Study Sessions༄ mark l.

↳ When you’re forced into a study session with your next door neighbour Mark, who also happens to be your academic rival in school, things go south very quickly.

pairing; mark lee x reader

genre; fluff, slight angst, enemies to lovers (more like friends, but anyway)

wordcount; 2503 words

author’s note; how the hell do you guys write e2l and make the transition so smooth? bro i could never. also, the header pic is different than what i normally do :/ it’s kinda eh, but i liked the picture so i had to do something with all that empty space

Request 26: Mark + “Oh, are you ticklish?” (73) + “Why are you naked?” (109)

— 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧. | 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬.

The animosity between you and Mark is intense and painstakingly obvious to everyone around you. Well, everyone besides your parents, you suppose.

“Can you stop being so loud? You’re distracting me,” you grumble, angrily flipping through your homework.

“Well, I’m sorry for breathing.” Mark rolls his eyes at you. “Would you rather I stop entirely instead and drop dead right here, right now?”

“At least it would be quieter if you did.” You press your pen down harder, taking your rage out on your poor, innocent worksheet. If you’re going to blame anyone for the excruciating torture your homework is enduring, you’d blame Mark. Even if it technically isn’t his fault, you’d still pin the blame on him.

“What’re you gonna do with my body? You wouldn’t be able to lift me, I mean, you couldn’t even open that can of Coke.”

Your cheeks grow warm, mentally replaying the image of a grinning Mark as he effortlessly opened your can of Coke, the soft hiss of its fizz taunting you. Mark had puffed up his chest triumphantly like he was some kind of hero. For crying out loud, he had only opened a can of Coke, not saved his country. It still bruised your pride though, having to ask for help from Mark, your sworn rival since middle school. Childish, you know, but you’re certain that Mark thinks of you as such too.

“Whatever,” you fumble for a name to call him, “nerd.” Mark snickers at you. “My fingers were just slippery.” He arches a brow, challenging you, and you scowl. “I wouldn’t be able to lift you because you’re heavy, fatass. Not because I’m weak.” You twirl a lock of your hair around your finger. “And look who’s talking, Mr. I-Can’t-Open-Doors.”

Mark flushes crimson as he silently fumes. “That was because I was pushing the pull door!”

“That’s even worse, Mark,” you tease, unable to suppress a smile. “Dumbass,” you mumble below your breath, enjoying the way Mark seethes.

“You’re calling me a dumbass? If I remember correctly, I was the one who placed above you last term.” Mark haughtily flips a page in his workbook. “Which I think is why your parents want me to tutor you.”

You throw a measly eraser shaving at Mark in rebuttal. “You know that’s not why I’m here!” Another shaving is thrown at Mark’s head, yet he doesn’t even look up at you. “In fact, your parents probably wanted me here so I could babysit you!”

Neither you or Mark are right. Your parents just chucked you together because they thought that after all those years of living beside one another and having weekly dinners together, you two would be absolutely wonderful buddies, and you can’t fault them for assuming such a thing.

Logically speaking, you and Mark are supposed to be the bestest of friends. As much as you dislike the word, it seems as if fate has decided that you two are meant for each other. Gross.

In almost every situation possible, you and dear Markie boy over here have been unwillingly strung together—from group projects, to assigned seats, you two just can’t get a break from one another.

Your parents had innocently thought that having a little study session while they went out for a double date with Mark’s parents would be beneficial for you two. Perhaps even fun. Fun, your ass.

All those years spent with Mark hasn’t made you friends, no, it’s made you rivals.

Yeah, so not sworn enemies, but what’s life without a little exaggeration?

You’ve always been a bright kid, some would even go as far to say that you’re ‘gifted’, but you think ‘persevering’ is a better word to describe it. You weren’t just born naturally intelligent or outstandingly athletic, no, you’ve had to work hard, insanely hard, for that. It hadn’t been handed to you all nicely wrapped with a little bow to match, just for you to tear it open and take. You’ve had to tolerate and undergo several sleepless nights, and many agonising hours of training.

Up until middle school you were top of your class in all aspects. You were idolised (well, as idolised as you could be for a middle schooler anyway), loved and acknowledged. It had been blissful.

That was until, little Mark with that stupidly cute gleam in his eyes came along, skipping over to you in those worn-out track pants and smiling toothily as he introduced himself as your brand new next door neighbour.

You have to admit, initially, you and him were close friends. You’d walk home together, sneak out to go to the convenience store together, share snacks together, the list goes on. You’d even given Mark your very first kiss, right on the cusp on your twelfth birthday. He didn’t know that it was your first kiss though, and he’ll never know. You’d rather be shot at point blank range than give up such private intel.

But when one day, in seventh grade, when Mark had begun closing in on you in rankings, outrunning you at the park and gradually being everyone’s new favourite, you found yourself isolated. Even one of your friends, a girl with straight long hair that fell past her waist, started hanging out with Mark more than with you.

And when you invited her to your thirteenth birthday, the first thing she’d asked was, “Is Mark going to be there?”

And at that same party, you saw her, kissing the boy you had been crushing on for the past year. And it looked like Mark really enjoyed kissing her too. More than he did with you.

From that point on, you began to distance yourself from Mark. It was gradual, slow, but you knew Mark could tell. When he finally surpassed you academically too, you started harbouring a resentment towards him, and the rivalry between you two started.

You were somewhat hoping he’d confront you, at least wonder why your attitude towards him had seemed to change in the blink of an eye, but he hadn’t. And that stung.

Obviously rumours had circulated in middle school about what was going on between you two. Kids, no, people love to talk. And talk they did.

It had been widely known that you and Mark used to be inseparable at one point in time, and it was jarring seeing how differently you two were acting around each other.

Mark and that friend of yours had broken up some time after that, and evidently she was pissed. It seemed as if she had begun spreading gossip about you, claiming that you had been some sort of psycho ex-girlfriend and that you had threatened Mark to break up with her, essentially, she was villainising you.

When high school finally rolled around, Mark’s ex had moved by then—you weren’t sure where and you didn’t care to know. The rumours eventually died down with her absence, and you thought that maybe, just maybe, you and Mark could finally make amends, bury the hatchet, as one would say. But that never happened.

Looking back, you’re a bit amused at what an eventful and dramatic childhood you had. All those scandals at just thirteen? What a boss bitch. Present you would not be able to stomach that.

You take a peek at Mark. He’s attractive. Of course he is. He had been a cute kid, no doubt, but as he’s aged, he’s matured into his good looking features. He’s not the rugged and manly kind of good looking, he’s got more of a sweet boyish look to him, and in your opinion, it adds to his charm.

“What are you staring at?”

Shit, you’ve been caught. No, caught? It’s not like you were doing something you shouldn’t have. “Nothing.” You reach forward to take a sip from the infamous Coke can. It’s lukewarm, but you gulp it down regardless, trying to appear unfazed.

“Were you checking me out?”

Disaster strikes just as those words leave Mark’s lips. The putrid sensation of warm coke leaves your mouth entirely, not because you’ve begrudgingly swallowed it all, but because you’ve spit it out from the sheer shock of Mark’s question.

“Hey! What the fuck?” Mark stands from his chair across from you and its legs scrape against the floor with a sound that makes your skin crawl.

You cough and sputter, gasping for air. Once you’ve gotten past that tight feeling in your throat, you wipe the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. A few droplets of the sugary drink dribble onto your shirt. But fortunately, well for you at least, you’re not as drenched in spit-laced Coke as Mark is.

“Shit!” You lift your gaze to look at Mark, who’s surprised, to say the least.

Mark takes a breath to say something, the words on the tip of his tongue, but he clamps his mouth shut, opting to groan in annoyance instead. “Jesus, why’d you even do that?”

Your face burns in embarrassment. No way you’re going to admit to him that you were checking him out. Sort of. “I don’t know, it just went down the wrong channel, I guess.”

Mark’s lips form a thin line of dissatisfaction. “Yeah, okay, whatever.” He cringes as his shirt sticks to him. “ I’m gonna go change.”

He runs a hand through his hair, face upturned in frustration as he stomps up the stairs, his footsteps echoing throughout the living room. Your eyes follow his figure until he turns a left into his room.

You sigh. If you were home alone, you would have screamed in humiliation. The can of Coke on the table mocks you. You resist the urge to pick it up and hurl it into Mark’s neighbour’s backyard—well, your backyard.

A sliver of positivity presents itself in the form of you and Mark’s mostly unscathed worksheets. There are a few stray droplets here and there, but it’s barely noticeable. It would’ve been much worse for both Mark and you if you had drenched those as well. In fact, your homework wouldn’t be drenched in just saliva and Coke, but also in tears at that point.

You curse the can in your grasp, its aluminium smooth against your skin, before you dump it in the bin. Good riddance, bitch.

I should apologise. You can suck up your pride for that. No, this isn’t even about petty things like pride anymore. That shouldn’t matter. I should apologise, you think to yourself firmly.

Alright. Apologising. Sorry. You inhale deeply, gathering your senses and calming your jittery nerves. Why are you even nervous? It’s not like you’re professing your undying love to him. Chill the fuck out.

As you’re standing before Mark’s single, wooden door (which looks extremely daunting for some reason), it doesn’t dawn on you that perhaps you should knock first.

If it had, then perhaps you wouldn’t be staring at a shirtless Mark, your hand still wrapped around his doorknob and your mouth hung agape.

“Oh my God, Mark!” You cover your eyes, the door shutting behind you with a creak. You’re a bit ashamed at how fast your cheeks are overtaken by a hot, prickling feeling. “Why are you naked?”

Mark, though just as startled as you are, has the common sense to reach blindly for the stained shirt he just took off, holding it in front of him. “What do you mean why am I naked? Why are you here?”

You take a few steps back, your back pressed up against the door. “I- I came up here to say I’m sorry. You know, for uh, just now?”

Your hands slowly fall to your sides as you burn holes into Mark’s carpeted floor with your eyes instead.

“Oh, uh, o-okay. Apology accepted, I guess.” Mark’s voice cracks and he clears his throat. “Let me just uhm—”

You can hear his drawer sliding open and the faint rustle of fabric. All the while you keep your gaze glued to the floor, feeling your cheeks grow warmer by the second. Oh my God, you’re acting like a little girl who’s just held a boy’s hand for the first time.

This isn’t the first time you’ve seen a guy naked—for fuck’s sake, Mark’s not even naked. He’s all covered up where he should be. Why is the sight of just his bare body from the waist up making your mind go blank and your palms grow sweaty? It’s not like you have feelings for him anymore. No, you don't.

“You can uh, you can look up now.”

You steel yourself, looking up to face Mark. Why did you have to steel yourself? It’s not like he’d have taken even more clothes off once you looked up again. You feel like slamming your head into the wall.

You fiddle with your fingers, searching for something to say to try and ease the tension. “Uh, sorry. For spilling that Coke all over you, I mean.” You scratch the nape of your neck. “And for you know, walking in on you changing.”

“Why didn’t you leave?”

Your shoulders slump. “Huh?”

Mark chuckles confidently, like he’s unabashed. His cheeks are ablaze with colour, though. “I mean, why didn’t you just back out of the room when you walked in on me changing? Why’d you just stand there?”

You blink at him. Why didn’t you just leave? “I- I froze up, okay? Don’t bully me!” Your ears are burning.

“Yeah, okay, okay.” Mark raises his hands by his sides, that entertained smile never leaving his lips. “Let’s go back down, okay? I still need to finish my work.”

You chew on your inner cheek. “Yeah, whatever,” you try to find a creative name to call him.

“Yeah, I know. Nerd.” Mark raises his brows at you, still with that amused grin. You wish you could smack it right off his stupidly handsome face.

You huff, turning on your heel and practically booking it to the stairs. Mark catches up to you in no time with long, languid strides. Stupid long ass legs.

“Hey, wait up, loser,” he says, a hint of delight in his voice. He pokes your side and you jump, shoving his hand away and mustering a weak glare at him. “Oh, are you ticklish?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip. “No, I’m not, fatass!” Despite your harsh tone, your cheeks deceive you, blossoming with warmth yet again.

Mark smiles genuinely this time, although there’s no sarcastic edge to it whatsoever. “You getting shy?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Hey, don’t be upset!” The next thing Mark says is nearly incomprehensible, but you hear it. Oh, you definitely do.

“You look cute.”

Your head swivels to look back at Mark, and you realise that he hadn’t meant for you to hear that.

The faintest of smiles teases your lips, before you turn away, denying him the satisfaction of seeing you break out into a grin. “Yeah, whatever, Mark.”

Now, it’s Mark’s turn to be enveloped in heat as a red tint spreads across his cheeks.

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hopetofantasy · 4 years

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Culture, parallels & meta - S3 E1

Previous season Prologue: Vlogs (1) - Vlogs (2)

Zaterdag 21:43

The time lapse already showing us a string of places that will be important later, like the dark alley, the Meir with Noor’s workplace, the university neighborhood, the Scheldt river where the boys hang out, ...

Perfect parallel:

The second season starts Zoë’s POV with a (washing machine) door, whilst the third opens with a door to a party that Robbe attends.

Robbe glances back at Noor passing through the shot this episode, an action he repeats when he spots Sander in the second episode. - A very subtle hint to where his love life may lead.

The first one starts with two unknown LGBT+ girls kissing at a party, the last episode shows two known LGBT+ boys (Sobbe) kissing at their own party.

The aerial shot through the floor to introduce us to Robbe’s POV here and the aerial shot through the roof to say goodbye to him in the last episode.

Moyo saying “No one would do you” to Aaron in this episode, Aaron realizing “No one here wants to do me!” in the last.

Where’s Wally? Noor greeting Marie, accompanied by Jana and Britt. Max dancing with Keisha in the crowd.

How ‘meta’ of you: Newsflash, yes you are!

Nod to the OG:

The deliberate messy POV: following everyone that we know already and then slowly settling on the Isak version in a tub.

Robbe saying Noor looks like ‘Natalie Portman’, which is what people said to the OG Emma when they flirted with her. Everyone, except Isak, that is.

Oop, there it is, the homophobia / heteronormativity: Moyo keeps pressuring Robbe into explaining what type of girl he likes. The boys laugh it off when he answers that ‘he doesn’t have a type’.

Lost in translation: Moyo mocks Noor’s Dutch accent, making his ‘g’ and ‘st’ sound harsher, while also adding ‘hoor’ at the end - a typical word used by the Dutch to emphasize a point.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Jens is playing with the weed bag. Keisha is one of the girls that Moyo mentions as Jens’ ex-girlfriend or ex-fling. Not only did Noor nót flush the toilet, but she didn’t used any toilet paper either!

Zaterdag 22:44

C is for culture:

Noor rescuing Robbe on her scooter - In Belgium, you’re allowed to drive a moped or scooter once you’ve reached the age of 16. Nothing is needed if the vehicle doesn’t go above 25 km/h. If it stays between the range of 25-45 km/h and max. 50 cc, you need to pass a theoretical exam, 4 hours of driver’s ed and a practical exam to get the license. Anything other than that, has a whole new set of restrictions, types of driver’s licenses and minimum ages. Noor and Robbe are, however, still breaking the law. As long as you’re not 18, you’re not allowed to have an extra passenger with you. Especially if they’re not wearing a helmet. (Plus they ignored a red light. Those rebels!)

“You do know that you always have to have it with you?” - The Belgian law states that everyone above age twelve, has to get an ID to identify themselves. Some might have had a Kids-ID already - for travel purposes - but that’s not mandatory. However, once you're fifteen years old, you’re obligated to carry your ID with you at all times.

Perfect parallel:

Luca being all jealous whilst staring at Noor and Robbe making out in S3, her glaring at Maud and Robbe every chance she got in the last season.

Robbe and Noor having fun on the scooter while screaming and Robbe filming their adventure in this episode. Robbe and Sander doing a similar thing, but on their bikes in a later episode.

Wink to other remakes: Robbe sporting a brown jacket. (Eliott, anyone?)

Surprise bitch, guess who: It’s Willem Chanterie, the on-set costume designer and social media production assistant!

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Noor has a ‘Fuck Trump’ sticker on her helmet. Robbe says “Hey, it’s red” in a very clear Antwerp accent.

Zaterdag 23:11

Hello from the outside: The garbage truck they sprayed, still drove around the city regularly. The art piece itself is named ‘#Genoeg mama' (= ‘#Enough mommy’). It blames the consumer society as toxic, making young people its victim.

Oopsie: Inside the graffiti den, Noor suddenly sports a tote bag with supplies, even though we never saw her wearing that in the previous shots.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Noor has black combat boots. The photographer is obviously Sander, in case you have missed that subtle clue.

Zondag 13:41

Lost in translation/Oop, there it is, the homophobia / heteronormativity:

“Check die pekie’s”. The word ‘pekie’ is actually Amsterdam slang for ‘beautiful girl, girlfriend’. In recent years, more and more Dutch slang are making their way into the Flemish dialect, because of the Dutch rap songs gaining popularity with the youngsters.

“Vamos, flikkers”. The word ‘flikkers’ can mean ‘wussie’ as well as a derogatory term for ‘homosexual’. Again establishing the fact that the boys use a lot of homophobic or toxic words for each other.

Robbe’s clumsiness meter: +1, him tossing the bag behind Jens instead of into his hands.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: There is a football right next to the skateboards.

Maandag 16:04

C is for culture: “The whole art school was talking about it” -

Secondary school is divided in four sections: general, technical, art and vocational. Which section you choose can have effect on further education. In one of these sections, you pick what you want to study from your first to last year (‘directions’). That means that you have some courses purely focused on the direction and others that are obligated for everyone, regardless.

Art high schoolers can choose to go to work or study a specialization afterwards. Their coursework isn’t solely art based, there are general required courses too. That’s why some foreigners - including the Dutch - come to Belgium, since they’ll get a more rounded and higher level of art education than in their countries. ‘de!KUNSTHUMANIORA’ is the high school in Antwerp Noor goes to and is known for having students with unique styles.

Perfect parallel:

Noor waiting outside the school for Robbe and him reacting somewhat confused here, Sander doing the same and having an instantly happy Robbe in a later episode.

Robbe having no problem kissing a girl ‘as a straight guy’ in front of the gates in this episode and scared for what might happen if he kissed a boy ‘as a gay guy’ later on.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: The insta caption underneath the art work says ‘An inspirational message on a Sunday! Just discovered this in Antwerp city today. Artist unknown... Can you remember when you last called on your mother?’ (That last sentence, oooofff, the symbolism!)

Dinsdag 14:57

C is for culture:

“Yes, mini enterprises are so chill.” - Mini enterprises are often used as a tool for Economics in the fifth/sixth year. The goal of these is to ‘learn whilst doing it’. Like the name specifies, mini enterprises are actual miniature companies set up by a group of students. During the school year, they’ll try to work together on commercializing a product. All aspects of entrepreneurship are at play here: writing a business plan, holding meetings, doing bookkeeping, marketing the product, produce and sell it, ... If the enterprise idea is good or well executed, it might even win a national prize by the company making this education formula.

“What if he contacts child protection services” - Actually, those services doesn’t really exist in Belgium. There are, however, other youth organizations for these types of things, like JAC - Youth Advice Centre, CLB - Centre for Student Guidance and the Centre for Mental Healthcare.

Perfect parallel: The boys hyping Aaron up to walk over to Amber and talk to her - yet he fails in this episode, them doing the same and he succeeds (after some fails) in the last episode.

Oop, there it is, the homophobia / heteronormativity: Jens saying “Damn, seems like someone is on his fucking period”, after Robbe snaps at him due to the difficult telephone call with his dad.

Lost in translation: Jens saying “Mijn kop staat er niet naar” (= “My head’s not standing there”) can actually mean different things: I’m not in the mood, it’s not the right time, I don't want to do it, my head’s all over the place, ... It depends on the context, on which interpretation would suit the situation the best.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: The girls are all fawning all over Britt’s cellphone, so there is a good chance that they’re discussing (pictures of) her boyfriend, Sander. Also, Jana’s braces are gone!

Donderdag 17:13

Perfect parallel: Robbe stating that he can’t talk to his dad or he’ll fight and Zoë getting that, as she said a similar thing to an understanding Senne about her parents in S2.

How ‘meta’ of you: Ah, yes, fandom ship names in SKAM. We applaud!

Oopsie: If you look really hard, you see that the body type and hair of Robbe’s dad, doesn’t correspond with the version waiting at the restaurant later on.

Wink to other remakes: This shot reminding you of a certain S3 trailer? 👀

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: The numerous references to Zoënne’s relationship in their room (relationship pics, Senne’s guitar). The paper Milan gifts to Robbe is the written permission by his parent to live with them, as is obligated by law.

Vrijdag 20:04

Perfect parallel:

Senne pulling Zoë up after a kiss here, just like with their first kiss in S2.

Robbe pushing Milan away after thinking he wanted to kiss him at the party in S2, them hugging it out in after talking about it in S3.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Zoë and Milan making some healthy party snacks like cauliflower and cocktail sauce, cheese with tomatoes and salami squares. She pulls back the bottle of gin that Milan wants to steal. Senne also bought paprika and tortilla chips from Colruyt (a discount store).

Vrijdag 20:54

C is for culture: “Noor, Robbe’s girlfriend” - (Teen) dating culture is different in Belgium. Usually, if you have kissed, hung out, texted or just said/did something to show your mutual interest, you’d pretty much consider yourself in a relationship. It can go from 0 to 100 very quick. Unless there is, of course, an agreement that what you’re doing is no such thing. Also, nobody really ask you to be their gf/bf. It just implied or stated to their family or friends.

Perfect parallel:

A reluctant Robbe pushing himself to do stuff to Noor (playful dancing, kissing, riling her up) as far as putting his hands on her bra here. A totally different, excited Robbe not even thinking twice about doing these things to Sander, even licking his nipple during their reunion.

Noor pushing Robbe on the bed and climbing over him, whilst Robbe looks all sad in this episode. Him pushing Sander on the bed and being happy as Sander crawls over him during their reunion.

Oop, there it is, the homophobia / heteronormativity: Robbe tries to convince himself into liking heterosexual sex with Noor and fake laughs with his friends about having it.

Where’s Wally? Keisha laughing with Amber and later dancing with Marie.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Jens is talking to Senne. The decorations behind Milan saying ‘Welkom Robbe’ (= ‘Welcome Robbe’). Noor has a beautiful tattoo of a pin-up girl covered with butterflies on her lower arm.

#wtfock #wtfam #skam #skam belgium #cpm rewatch

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early2000smovieimagines · 3 years

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Meeting and Dating Roger Straka

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You met Roger after him and his family moved to California. The two of you wound up being next door neighbors so you were sort of forced to introduce yourselves to each other.

- It’s the 1970s so seeing someone in leg braces, crutches or a wheelchair; especially someone your age, really isn’t common nor quickly “accepted”; for lack of a better term. Now taking that and the fact that he’s from out of town into consideration, and you just know he’s going to stick out like a sore thumb the minute he steps inside your school.

- Since you’re both in the same grade and live next door to each other, it’s pretty much a given that you’ll see a lot of each other during the day.

- And you do. Half of your classes are the same, you constantly pass each other in the hallway, and you’re always catching glimpses of each other as you leave the house. You can’t deny that he’s handsome and believe me, he considers himself very lucky that he can covertly snoop on you.

- You’d just come home from hanging out with your friends when you noticed him wheeling around the side of his house. As you made your way into your backyard, you paused for a moment, contemplating your decision before peeking over the bush that separated you and asking if he’d like to hang out.

- So there you were, holding your gate open for the boy as you made your way into your backyard with him.

- The two of you sat together for a few hours, talking and getting to know each other until his mother arrived home and called him in for dinner. After that day, the two of you started to hang out more and more.

- It’s pretty easy for everyone to see that Roger likes you and while you certainly think that he’s attracted to you, you aren’t “bold enough to assume” that he actually wants to date you. You just tell everyone who happens to mention it that you’re just friends and that they’re reading into it.

- It’s about a month after Roger moved to town that he finally asks you out. The two of you were sitting together in the library after school when he just glanced up at you and asked if you wanted to go out with him. Straight to the point, how could you refuse?

- You could probably consider your first date to be at his brothers baseball game which takes place the day after he asks you out. The two of you sit side by side and share some food while you watch; he even manages to slip his hand into yours about halfway through the game.

- You share your first kiss a few days later while the two of you are studying together. He’d just finished showing you how to do a certain math problem when he leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. It was over as soon as it had begun but you liked it all the same.

- While your newfound relationship certainly won’t be the easiest, you can’t imagine yourself with anybody else.

- There’s not a ton of pda in your relationship; just because he’s not really that sort of person, but he’s always really happy when you seem to want people to know that the two of you are together.

- You mainly just hug him or hold hands when you’re out on the town.

- Soft, chaste kisses. He’s not exactly experienced when it comes to girls so he tends to stay on the innocent side of things where he can’t mess up. He’s also just a soft person in general so it’s natural to him.

- Cheek kisses. Whenever you’re saying goodbye, he’ll usually lean over and give you one before he goes.

- Leaning your head on his shoulder as you sit together. He likes it whenever you do; it makes him feel all warm and fuzzy.

- You’re usually spooning whenever the two of you cuddle. He loves cuddling; it’s the easiest; and frankly the nicest, thing you can do together.

- Getting woken up early because he’s a psychopath that gets up at like six a.m. even on weekends and wants to see his girlfriend as soon as possible.

- Going to baseball games with him; usually his brothers.

- He uses short versions of you name; if there is one, but other than that, he doesn’t use too many nicknames/petnames. He just isn’t really fond of them.

- He’s your cheerleader. He’s always rooting for you to do good and being there for anything that’s important; or not, to you.

- Helping him with his crutches.

- Reading together.

- Carrying his things for him.

- Reminding him to take his medicine; and to bring it with him wherever he ends up going.

- Kissing bruises and needle pricks.

- Rubbing his chest when he has a bad coughing fit. He’s always just a tad bit flustered when he recovers and thinks about the fact that your hands on him.

- Making jokes about his predicament, he isn’t easily offended, in fact, he quite likes them. He’s mainly the one to make them but he always gets a chuckle when you do.

- Letting him rant to you when he’s angry and comforting him when he’s scared.

- He cherishes every moment he has with you knowing full well that he may not have a lot of them.

- Its sort of hard to go on dates with him; considering his crutches or wheelchair and his bad luck when it comes to getting infections, but you certainly try your best.

- You mainly just hang out at his house or in his backyard/your house or backyard. You know, the easy places to go.

- A lot of your dates are crashed by Mickey since he’ll arrive home and bother the two of you as you sit in the dining/living room.

- TV dates.

- Library dates.

- Study dates.

- Board games and puzzles. Wanna try to destroy your relationship in under an hour? Come to his place, he’s got monopoly!

- If you’re gonna be a part of the Straka family, you have to learn about baseball. He will not allow his girlfriend to not know about the sport nor Clemente.

- Giving him a big hug when he gets back from the trip with his brother. He got sorta flustered by your worrying and fussing over him.

- Getting to hear all about his ludicrous adventure.

- Hanging out with Mickey; it’s sort of inevitable considering they share both a house and a bedroom in said house.

- His mother likes you but she’s sort of worried about the influence you may have on him. She doesn’t want him spreading himself too thin to be “normal” with you.

- He’s a selfless person. He always tries to put you before him so occasionally you’ll have to step in and tell him that he deserves to be happy too.

- Roger isn’t a very jealous person but his own insecurities will sometimes make him overthink things. He can’t help but picture how easy it would be for you to date someone else, to have a “normal” relationship and find someone who you can spend the rest of your life with.

- With that being said, he never outright admits to his “jealousy” or insecurities. Instead, he keeps it bottled up until he finally just tells you that he understands if you want to breakup and that “you probably should”.

“No, I don’t want to …but you should....”

- Honestly, I think you’re the protective one in this situation. He’s not really used to being the one worrying over someone else; and he can’t exactly do anything if anything were to happen to you, so yeah …you’re the protective one.

- Sometimes, he really scares the hell out of you because he does some stupid shit without thinking, like acting like a smartass with a group of bikers in the night.

- The two of you rarely ever fight, he just tends to stay calm and look at things rationally so if there’s an issue, he can resolve it pretty easily. When you do fight, you mostly just argue for a little while before settling things.

- Neither of you ever really have to apologize since your arguments aren’t those types of arguments. You just figure out want you want to do and move on.

- He tells you he loves you every now and again; not constantly but about as much as a normal teenage boy would probably say it.

- In the moment, you aren’t sure exactly how much time you’ll have with him but you both hope that he beats the odds and you get to spend a long life with each other.

#chasing 3000 imagine #chasing 3000 headcanons #chasing 3000 headcanon #chasing 3000 imagines #roger straka imagine #roger straka headcanons #roger straka headcanon #roger straka imagines

27 notes · View notes

angelic-serenade · 4 years

Text

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

request: Imagine being Light’s girlfriend and he finds out that you possess a Death Note of your own and wrote his name down in it

requested by: @sacredwarrior88

a/n: I hope this is what you expected, sorry once again for the delay! enjoy 💖

gif, original work and characters do not belong to me

pairing: Light Yagami x f!reader

fandom: Death Note

warnings: angst, death, murder, light yagami being light Yagami, long (!), blood ment, canon typical violence

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Being Light Yagami's significant other had always been perceived as some sort of divine privilege, a once-upon-a-time story one could only hope to achieve in their wildest dreams. It became some sort of unspoken, universal truth spread like a gospel throughout the hallways of his high school, where he was equally envied and admired by students and professors alike. Light Yagami was by all definitions the perfect guy, therefore the public opinion of onlookers and admirers had silently but unanimously come to the conclusion he only deserved an equally perfect match: everyone was well aware that Light Yagami did not do relationships - he was adamant on rejecting every single advance he received regardless of gender and social status and that was a clear sign as any of the hopelessness of the challange itself. Nobody was ever going to be good enough for the golden boy of Daikoku Private Academy. Or so everyone thought.

Light Yagami had never seen you coming, nor had he cared enough to acknowledge your existence: at first you had simply been one of the many anonymous faces he had no interest in engaging with for too long. It never went farther than a polite greeting every now and then, when the pretense of being a wonderfully polite and integrated individual made it impossible to ignore your presence in the hallway or in a professor's study - you were supposed to be one of his fellow classmates after all, a newly transferred student from a foreign country, to make things worse. He could not allow rumors to spread regarding his reluctance to help the new student feel fully integrated now, could he? In precarious moments such as the ones he constantly found himself in nowadayd because of his new found rival, the infamous L, he could not allow himself to slip so easily, not even in his mundane everyday life. Any mistake was bound to have severe consequences and every slight change of his routine - he was certain - would be dutifully reported to the task force. Now more than ever, Light Yagami would not let underestimating a variable be his fatal flaw.

So the charade went on, and things only got worse when he realized every adult in the Academy relied on him to make you feel as comfortable with the new environment as possible. When you missed a class, he'd be tasked with delivering you the materials that had been discussed and analyzed during the daily lecture; when you had questions about the burocratic practices you were meant to fulfill as a foreign exchange student, he had been the one appointed by professors for you to rely on. And the list continued. Soon enough, you had turned from a minor inconvenience and necessary evil to a complete and utter annoyance in the life of the golden boy. You weren't a particularly irritating person per se, but the situations he found himself in as the unexpected arrangement went on took away quite the amount of time, precious hours he could have spent to gain advantage in his battle of wits against that ridiculous detective - the term "wits" was far too generous on his behalf already, he'd get rid of that self-proclaimed genius in no time either way.

Turns out your company had its own perks. Light Yagami was no fool: he acknowledged your beauty, both physical and intellectual, finding himself almost pleased to engage in playful banter during a particularly boring task a professor would assign them both to carry out. And he also knew that many boys and girls in the academy would have been utterly ecstatic to escort you wherever you went 24/7 in his place, even only to experience your own exotic nature and brag about it with their peers.

But (Y/L) (Y/N) was no fool either: she knew how much attention the golden boy brought about whenever he had to hang out with her - it reminded her of the way pollen called out to bees - and decided to make the most of it in order to build her own shiny reputation in the Academy. She soon came to be regarded as the golden girl, as dutiful and flawless as the golden boy himself. That's why it didn't come as a surprise when news spread of your newly blossomed relationship: everyone thought it natural that two superior individuals such as you and Light would be compelled to stick together, one way or another.

For you and Light though, the new arrangement was mostly convenient. You tolerated each other's presence well enough - surely more than any other mindless student's populating the Academy - and the mutual agreement you silently shared only managed to spurr on your enthusiasm about the chance to finally be left alone by other possible suitors. However, what particularly appealed to Light's keen mind was the possibility to further enhance his portrayal of a perfectly normal high school boy in front of the police and its investigators by simply keeping you near: a girlfriend would prove to be a useful alibi in moments of need, and seen as Misa Amane's sudden public appearence as his companion (as per her request) would have been perceived as too suspicious because of the recent messages she had unceremoniously left for the police to find, he'd have benefitted from the company of a new face. Might as well be the only face he could actually stand.

Since when you had become independent in your scholastic endeavors, Light had been able to gain most of his freedom back as well. Irony, however, made it so that by the time you both tried to finally part and go your separate ways, in the end you'd always end up gravitating back towards one another. Light had been utterly baffled at first, thinking it ridiculous that he found himself wishful to hear your witty comebacks when talking to some other nobody student rambling about puny matters he had no care for, or pondering what your sarcastic mind could have come up with when a professor made a fool out of themselves as they appointed yet another responsibility of theirs to a mere student. Ryuk had cracked countless jokes about the way Light would look at you the same way he looked at apples - there were so many times he had threatened the creature to actually cut off his apples supply had he not shut up, he lost count.

Therefore, in the most unlikely of outcomes, he decided to kill two birds with a stone and officially ask you out. That way he wouldn't have to worry about his private life being brought up during the investigations of the police anymore (or at least they'd be less frequent) while finally getting you out of his mind - hopefully.

The first date went rather well, he brought you to a nice cafe you had mentioned once and insisted to pay your share too (you had tried to convince him on splitting it instead, and only after various attempts had he relented).

“No wonder you are single, (Y/N).”

“Oh, am I now?”

You were proud of the way you had managed to bring down most of Light's outer walls, his boy-wonder façade irking you more than any stubborn love-sick fan of his ever could. It was the first to go, right off the bat:

“If we have to do this, might as well get comfortable, boy-wonder. No need for the goody-two-shoes charade with me, I know this is simply business.”

He had smiled but hesitated to verbally reply. Unbeknownst to you, that was the first spark that ignited his admiration for you and the milestone of your budding relationship as well. He had resented your arrogance and had you not been that crucial to his current plans to rebuild the entire world, he'd have found a way to unsuspiciously get rid of you straight away. It was a good thing you proved to be a good intellectual stimulus.

For a time, everything seemed to fall into its rightful place and the relationship not only proved to be useful for Light as regards to his public image, but he also managed to enjoy the time spent with you. He would never admit that the necklace, flowers, chocolates, and other tokens he gifted you were anything more than just for show, not even to himself. He would not allow himself to get too close, trivial things as love were not meant for the future God of a new world. Too bad it was too late for that.

When Misa Amane came into the picture, however, things escalated quickly and dangerously. You were hanging out with Light in his room, as it had been a rainy day and neither of you felt in the mood for a walk under the pouring drops. The sudden call for Light's name from downstairs came as a surprise and only later did you realize it had been the first sign of inevitable disaster; Light's mother usually never disturbed you two when you came to visit and mostly kept to herself in the kitchen, greeting you when you came and then when you went (you were glad for her respect of both her son's and your privacy). When a pretty blonde barged into the room even before Light could get up from the bed, however, you were certain disaster was at that point inevitable.

That's how you first met Misa Amane.

The yelling and crying had been obnoxious to say the least, and it only got worse from there. Light seemed more tense than usual and looked like he was single-handedly wrestling a roaring tiger while also trying to keep his head attached to his neck. Never had you seen him so worked up, trying so hard to restrain himself: it was a strange sight and it made you wonder if there was more at stake than what you had originally taken into account. Needless to say, you were worried.

When the girl took out a black notebook from her purse and started throwing threats your way, your quick mind clicked instantly.

You kept silent however, feigning ignorance: if you wanted to get even just a glimpse of the truth behind this whole tragicomic pandemonium, you'd have to be patient. Your shinigami might have been useless, but you had took the time to read the rules yourself and that would definitely work in your favor, you rationalized.

“You let this wench get in the way of our love? How could you! I did everything you asked of me and that's what I get?”

Calming the girl down had been an admirable feat. Thankfully you were able to control your anger, even though you felt positively livid with the recent developments of what you thought had been at least a mutually respectful relationship. You had grown close to Light, and maybe you had illuded yourself believing that he really did care for you too in his own way. You kept silent still and pondered about the various possibilities brought forth by Misa's mere existence: Light was fully aware of the existence of the Death Note, as he had tried to persuade Misa not to use it against you. The implications of this fact alone brought chills to your spine: why did Light have connections to this girl? Why was he so adamant on trying to snuff out the tracks of Misa's words? Had he exploited the girl to use the Death Note? Was Misa Amane the feared Kira whose killing sprees where making Japan tremble in fear? She must have been involved someway.

And then it clicked. Light Yagami had a Death Note too. He had to have one. The last broadcasted messages sent from a mysterious second Kira suddenly came to mind and you swore a light bulb went off over your head. Misa Amane could not possibly the original Kira - too impulsive, too reckless. If you had learnt something about the one true murderer, it was that the original Kira would never expose themselves like this in front of a stranger. Narcissistic they may have been, but their work was not that of a fool.

Your world suddenly came crashing down and your stunned state worried even Light. Misa had regretfully left, mind full of unfulfilled promises, and you could only thank the odds that her shinigami had not called you out straight away. Same went for Light's. Though you couldn't see them, you knew they were there and you also knew that any wrong move would have led to your untimely demise. If Light Yagami was truly Kira, he'd have no problem in ridding himself of your presence once he realized how much of a threat you currently represented, having a Death Note of your own. Shinigamis could see one another after all.

It was nerve-wracking to be on the receiving end of a gun.

“(Y/N), are you alright?”

A moment of hesitancy, then a tired attempt:

“Yes, yes. I'm just... a bit rattled, is all.”

“I hope you'll stay to let me explain.”

You realized he wasn't asking and you had no choice but to agree. You tried your best to feign hurt during the whole ordeal, but in reality you just felt nauseated and exhausted. He made up a very believable lie and you would have surely fallen for it had you not been certain Misa Amane owned a Death Note, just like you were certain he did too.

You had your own Death Note, yes, but you'd never actually used it. That was the main reason why your shinigami, Lux, had decided to completely ignore you from day one - apparently, you weren't entertaining enough for him. He'd been pretty vocal about his displeasure. But no matter how much Lux complained, using violence and murder to get your way seemed like too easy a solution. But it seemed that the boy in front of you did not share the same sentiment.

When Light took you into his arms to hold you close and tears started streaming down your face, you made up your mind: if Light Yagami truly was Kira, you'd be the one to bring him down.

The day when you finally confronted the boy you had grown so close to finally came and it was probably the scariest experience of your life. You supposed that his shinigami had told him nothing about your own status as a Death Note owner or at least, Light acted as if he didn't know. Which option was worse, you couldn't tell.

“Light... We need to talk.”

It was 22:00 sharp.

A pause, a second in which you realized you life was hanging by a thread.

“Come on in, then. ”

“I will be direct and straight to the point-”

“Yes, as you always are. That's one of the things that I appreciate the most about you.”

You couldn't believe he was trying to manipulate you. A sudden surge of boldness, straightened by pure remorse, made you vomit your next words as if they were venom.

“I take it you know of my Death Note.” you tried to keep as calm as possible and waited for his reply even though by now you already knew the answer.

“I do.” he solemnly conceded.

“Then why have you not brought it up before?”

“I was waiting for you to make up your mind.”

“Make up my mind about what, exactly?”

“About which side you decided to choose. But I take it you may need a little more motivation to pick the side you rightfully belong to. I'm here to provide it.”

“I'm all ears.”

“You have been watching the news, yes? The state of the world is in shambles, the cruel and wicked thrive off of the innocent. It's every man for himself and those in power only think about ways to make more money. The world we know is slowly rotting away, slaughtered from inside out by its own inhabitants. It's sickening. But, you see, I realized I have a cure, I have the power to make it better, to solve the problem once and for all. And I used it, as I intend to use it again and again, for the greater good. Humanity needs rehabilitation and I'm willing to provide it. There's people who recognize the necessity of this method and people who lie to themselves. So now I ask you (Y/N), which one are you?”

Your throat was parched, your hands were shaking and sweating profusely. You stared into those brown orbs of his and found yourself unable to look away. You had grown fond of his eyes, as well as the rest of him. Never in a million years would you have guessed that Light Yagami was a cold blooded killer who thought himself the God of a new world. He had played you like a violin and you had sung along. But no more would you be willing to associate yourself with that idealistic and childish monster.

“(Y/N)...” he tantatively neared your form, raising a hand to your cheek. His once cold gaze was now filled with warmth, but you weren't able to discern how much of it was fabricated and how much was real. You couldn't trust him, you couldn't play his symphony again. It was crooked and violent and selfish in its own right.

“We can do so much together, we can remake the world and save lives, so many innocent lives. No more undeserved suffering, no more unjust violence.”

You found it both unsettling and ironic how his words clashed with his actions. How could he speak of injustice, of violence when he was the one constantly playing with the lives of people? It was not his place to dictate who should live and who shouldn't, it was no man's right to claim the power over life and death. And yet there he was, in all of his fiendish glory.

“Help me, be my right hand in the monumental task of rebuilding the world. Be there when the world becomes our personal heaven.”

Oh the devil has such a way with words.

When his lips fell on yours, you knew you had done the right thing. Light Yagami suddenly wretched himself away from you as if he'd been burned; he took a step back, clutching his chest as spasms overtook his body. And then he fell.

It was 22:15.

He aimlessly fell to the ground just like Icarus had once he came too close to the sun and burned his false wings. You took the piece of paper from your left pocket and opened it only to let it fall to the floor.

Light Yagami, 07.03.2004, 22:15, heart attack

You had been merciful.

You had done the right thing.

And you would keep doing the right thing, even if the price to pay was staining your hands with more blood.

494 notes · View notes

blvirz · 4 years

Text

Living Life Through a Lense: Chapter Twenty-Four(B)

Word Count: 11.4K

Warnings: swearing? (idk does that count??)

[2:30 AM KST, five days before the new premiere]

In every single pamphlet you were given at the hospital just before leaving, experts in them listed independence and control to be two of the most important things that you would lose after a brain injury. And it was true. No longer could you be alone for extended periods of time, nor could you be in charge of simple things such as taking your medication or walking to go get the mail downstairs. Now it wasn’t that you didn’t agree with the statement, but what these pamphlets seemed to have left out was the rare, but still likely to occur memory loss. So if somehow you were to reword them, you surely would have given memory loss an honourable mention among the things that were hardest to lose.

As a result of the accident, physically you were left suffering from a broken wrist, extensive bruising all throughout your body, and a deep gash near one the temples of your forehead. However mentally or to be more specific, cognitively, you suffered with concentration, mood swings, and memory loss.

Immediately after the accident you were thrust into what seemed like an endless schedule of testing and consults with your doctors to determine the extent of your cognitive impairments. At the end of all that, it was determined that you had forgotten everything in the past few months; from people to events and even certain habits, all of it was gone.

So far on your list of forgotten people included your supposed girlfriend Jennie, the rest of her members: Jisoo, Lisa and Rosé, and the various other staff you had become friends with at YG. You knew their names, but anything you learned or experienced with them after that first initial meeting at YG was gone. You couldn’t recall anything about their personalities, or even the moments you shared with them before the accident.

In the last month following the accident, your company had slammed the brakes on the release of your documentary. And with its release delayed a month, it gave you time to focus on your recovery. Which for you, meant weeks of physical therapy for your wrist, the occasional doctor's visit, sessions with an occupational therapist, and then back home to continue wallowing in both self-pity and despair. However, the newest development in your routine was sitting at your desk for hours at a time watching all of the footage captured in light of your latest documentary.

Nothing in your routine had seemed to do anything positive in terms of your recovery. Your therapist only made you more confused and agitated, while the videos made you feel cold-hearted and guilty. But at the end of each day, you still went to therapy and you still stubbornly stayed up into the early mornings watching as many videos as your brain would allow. In hopes that just maybe, by some miracle, something might trigger your memories.

Currently, it was almost three in the morning and having decided that you did enough sulking for the day, you sat up in your chair in search of a new video to watch. Though, somehow you always found yourself gravitating to the video labelled Jennie on your very cluttered desktop. Jadedly, you clicked on the video and pressed on the spacebar, and for what had to be the one-hundredth time, you sat back in your chair and let it play.

The video started off hectically, but once the camera was brought to a steady and able to focus, it showed a clear shot of a woman sitting on a picnic blanket eating chips. In the background behind her, you could see the very evenly cut grass, and if you focused hard enough, you could also make out the pristinely cut hedges. All things considered, from a videographer’s perspective it was an awful shot, though there was no denying the fact that the video had a certain charm to it, you just couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Okay go it’s recording,” you heard through the speakers of your headset; it was your voice, but because you spent years having to both hear and edit it, you were able to ignore it out of habit.

It was a few seconds of silence, so quiet that you were able to hear the wind when suddenly there was a loud crunching noise immediately followed by laughter.

“What! There’s no way you heard it that time!” the woman in the video exclaimed; her eyes noticeably widened.

“Jennie… I’m pretty sure all of Korea heard you. Now say it! You lost!”

“Wait give me one more shot! Just one more. Please Y/N,” the other girl pleaded.

There was a prominent sigh that was picked up by the camera followed by the words, “fine. One last shot. But! The second I hear something, you have to say it.”

She nodded and with ease plopped another chip into her mouth. And just like the first time, it took a couple of seconds, but there was another clear-cut crunching noise that could be heard.

She sat there silently with her eyebrows furrowed, her nose scrunched up and lips formed in a pout, but as soon as her features softened up from behind the camera you could hear, “no! Don’t give me that look. I’ve already given you enough chances. Now pony up, I wanna hear it.”

She sat there silently unwilling to give in to your commands, and if you hadn't watched this video a hundred times before, you would have assumed that the video was going to end. But instead, there was some shuffling and eventually, it showed your face as you leaned against the girl’s shoulder. “Nice and clear. Say it Jennie,” you said as you laughed and looked at yourself in the camera's viewfinder.

She then pretended to roll her eyes in annoyance, and you would have believed it if it weren’t for the smile that she was desperately failing to hide from the camera. Shortly after, in a clear and soft voice, you heard and watched as the girl in the video stared at you and told you that she loved you. Just before the abrupt ending you had come to learn the video had, you could faintly hear yourself say, “I love you too.”

Watching the video over and over again you realized three things. For one, this probably wasn’t supposed to be a part of the documentary considering how it was shot. Two, because it was the only video on your desktop, it must have meant a great deal to you. And three, although it was a short clip, it showed you all that you needed to know; that you were in love with the girl in the video, and that she loved you too.

Before you could let your frustrations get the best of you, you closed your laptop and headed to bed.

…

Your doctor sat in a chair across from you at a desk behind several computer screens. After getting one final look at what you assumed were the results of your latest tests, she wheeled herself out from behind the desk so that you two could talk face to face. “Everything so far looks good on my end, and after going over the results of your latest cognitive test and brain scan, it looks like our weekly visits are no longer necessary. However– there is a catch. Any kind of intense physical activity, alcohol, and medication other than the ones prescribed are strictly prohibited for the next month. Taking part in any of these can have serious adverse effects. That being said, did you have any questions?”

Wasting no time you asked, “have the chances of my memories coming back changed since the last checkup?”

You watched as your doctor tried to maintain the neutral expression she was probably trained to have in medical school, but seeing the way she pursed her lips and the movement in her shoulders as she exhaled, told you that the answer was not the one you were hoping to hear.

“Considering the injuries you sustained, along with the twenty-plus years of experience I’ve had researching the brain... the answer is still that it’s highly unlikely, but again, as I’ve said in our previous checkups, the brain is still something we don’t have fully figured out. One day you could wake up and start to recall the things you thought were long gone. Don’t give up Y/N.”

This was how your doctor's appointments always ended. Each time you went in, you hoped to hear something new, but in the end, she always told you the same things in some other variation of words. The truth was, you weren’t exactly sure what answer would satisfy you, but sometimes you wished she would just say the word ‘no’ to answer your question; that way you could begin to move on. But the fact that there was the tiniest bit of hope in her long and drawn out speeches kept you from letting go completely.

…

[1:30 PM KST, four days before the new premiere]

Glancing at the clock on the stove, you hurriedly poured your coffee into a to-go cup. Because of your injured wrist, it rendered your whole left arm useless. And so, everyday tasks like getting the toothpaste on your toothbrush, tying your shoelaces, or making coffee like you were doing right now, ate away at both your time and patience.

Just when you were about to put the lid on, you accidentally knocked the cup with your freshly poured coffee over, causing it to spill all over the counter and produce a steaming pool of liquid on the ground near your feet. Frustratedly, you picked up the cup and threw it in the sink, and a loud bang rang throughout the apartment.

Like clockwork, Lex came bolting into the kitchen to see what you had managed to fail at this time. “What happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” she asked while she panicked and checked your body.

Pushing her hands away, and in a voice that lacked emotion, you said, “I’m fine. I just spilled some coffee. I can clean it up.”

She didn’t listen and began to clean up the dark brown puddle by your feet. “Lex please just stop,” you said firmly, while she continued wiping the ground.

“Lex! Enough!” you yelled causing her to flinch, but by then she was already finished with cleaning up your mess.

As she stood up to face you, she said, “I’m just trying to help Y/N.”

“Yeah I know, but the problem is that you are always helping. Please just let me do things on my own.”

For a few minutes she didn’t say anything and instead looked down at the ground; immediately making you feel bad for losing your temper. You knew that her heart was in the right place, but you just needed some semblance of control, even if it was something as little as cleaning up some spilled coffee.

To avoid any unnecessary argument, you said that you would just ask the driver to pick up some coffee on the way, and walked out of the kitchen without another word.

…

Framed diplomas and other accolades covered the walls, and neutral colours made up the room: ivory, beige, taupe, black, white etc. The walls were painted ivory with white crown mouldings, the carpet was taupe, the furniture you both sat in, black. The only source of vibrant colour came from the view outside the window, and the lonely looking green plant in the corner of the room; to you, it looked like a low-budget sitcom set.

“Y/N? Are you ready to begin today’s session?”

The calming yet disruptive voice of your therapist rang through your ears pulling you back from the endless stream of thoughts and observations that swirled in your head. You spaced out normally, but after the accident you found yourself doing it more often to make sense of the things you were feeling.

Are the things I’m currently feeling real? Or is this just another mood swing? Were the questions you asked yourself almost hourly.

“Uh. Yes,” you said as you nervously tapped away on the armrest of the couch you were seated on.

“Like always, let’s start off easy today. I would just like to remind you, like in all of the eight times we have met previously, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, and if you ever feel yourself starting to get worked up we can move on. Now we have done this exercise twice before…” your therapist continued on while reading the things on her tablet.

It drove you nuts how she would always remind you of things like how many times you’ve met or how many times you’ve done a certain exercise. Of course, you didn’t doubt her or her ability to do her job, after all, she was a trained and licensed professional. But you couldn't the sheer amount of redundancy in these meetings couldn’t have been helping anybody.

“Y/N?” your therapist asked while waving her hand in your general direction.

Sitting up straighter, you quickly reverted your attention back to your therapist. “Sorry, I spaced out again. Can you repeat the question?”

“Has there been anything significant in the last few days? Anything new?”

You didn’t have to think twice, you couldn’t do much and your routine was always the same. “No, not really. Since I’m not allowed to do a lot of things, I mostly stay at home and watch TV, while Lex works. And then when she’s done we go out to eat, go out for a walk, come home, sleep, and do it all over again. Occasionally Jennie and the members come by, and it’s fun… but it never fails to get awkward when one of us is reminded of the accident.”

“What do you mean it gets awkward?”

“Well because I don’t remember, you could imagine I miss out on a lot of the inside jokes. It’s just– there’s no flow in our conversations when they are constantly having to stop and explain. Or there are times where I make a mistake and they all chalk it up to the accident–” You cut yourself off to avoid getting frustrated. Your heart began to beat harder in your chest, you could feel your whole body flare-up in heat, there was a lump in your throat, and tears already welled up in your eyes.

“It’s okay Y/N, take your time. I would still like you to continue. That is if you’re willing.”

After taking in a few deep breaths and agitatedly shifting in your seat once more, you continued. “I feel like I'm suffocating. Physically I’m recovering. However, mentally… I’ve gotten nowhere. It’s almost as if I’m living a life that isn’t mine.”

“And your main goal… is to remember again, correct?”

The word ‘yes,’ was all you could muster.

“Why?”

You looked at her in disbelief, and yet she looked right back at you not realizing the stupidity in her question. Did she really just ask me why I wanted to remember? Has she not been listening these last few weeks? What kind of therapist are you? Surely she’s joking, right?

…

“Why? Pfft. She really asked me why I wanted to remember,” you mumbled to yourself as you walked along a gravel pathway. After leaving your therapist’s office, you went straight to a nearby park to blow off some steam before heading home for the day. Much to the dismay of your security, they took you to the park as you requested and maintained a safe walking distance from you. You wished that they would have stayed in the van, but you were nevertheless thankful that they gave you some breathing room. With everything that happened, you weren’t allowed much.

It was your third lap around the park when you decided that you had enough time to yourself and that you should head back home, but before you could, you paused at the odd sight before you. In the distance, you saw an elderly lady sitting on the ground, and you wouldn’t have thought twice about it if it weren’t for the empty park bench just a few meters away from her. So without further question, you made you way over to see if she needed any help.

When you got closer, you could see what looked like a walking cane on the ground next to her, and after a quick scan, you could deduce that she had fallen. Her hands were visibly scraped and bleeding, one of her ankles swollen, and if not for the dark coloured pants she was wearing, you could see the dust and gravel on the side of her legs. While bending down you asked if she was okay, to which she mumbled something that you couldn’t make out all the while she had a puzzled look on her face. Which right away told you that she didn’t speak or understand a word of English. Looking back at your security you saw that he was already on the phone with who you assumed was emergency services when your attention was quickly brought back to the older woman as you felt her put her hands on your arms.

It took a while but you sat there and kept her company until the paramedics arrived. Although you couldn’t exactly communicate with her, from the look on her face alone as she was being wheeled away, you could tell that she was thankful for your help.

On the way through the park and back to the van, you looked at your bloodstained sleeves. You couldn’t explain it, but there was something eerily familiar about it.

…

Entering your apartment like you had done at least a hundred times before, you locked the door, hung up your coat, kicked off your shoes and headed further inside. Having walked “alone” in the park for nearly two hours, your thoughts were a bit more organized and you felt a little more at peace with yourself. However, that was all quickly cut short when you walked into the kitchen.

At the kitchen table, you saw Lex with her phone held right up against her ear with the help of her shoulder while she frantically scribbled down something on her notepad. With her other hand, she was furiously typing away on her laptop. Though when she looked up and saw you the frantic demeanour she had quickly gone away and was replaced by one that told you she was anything but glad to see you. After saying a few words into her phone, she hung up and slammed it onto the table.

“Where the hell were you?” her tone was noticeably hostile.

Okay. She’s mad. You thought to yourself. You wanted to carefully choose the next words to come out of your mouth, but the death glare she was giving you made you choose impulsively.

“At the park,” was all you said.

“So that’s it? No explanation as to where you were for the last two hours? No call? No text? Are things that easy for you? You know Y/N, I have tolerated a lot these past few days because of the accident and all of the pain that you’ve been experiencing. But if you are going to continue down this path of being stupidly selfish then–”

The way that she was firing questions at you made your head hurt but still, that wasn’t enough to draw you away from her last question. You let out a frustrated laugh at her choice of words. No one really was listening to you after all. Easy? Is that what she said?

“Are you laughing? Do you have any idea how worried I was for you? How many people I’ve called to see if you were with them? How many hours I’ve spent calling every hospital within a 15-kilometre radius? I will never get that time back Y/N! Don’t you understand?”

Just when you were about to say something she held her hand up in a way that told you to shut up, “I’m not done. You’re going to stand there and listen to what I have to say because you don’t seem to give two shits about how much work other people have been putting in these last few weeks. Ethan is doing his best to ensure the investors are happy. I’m doing my job as well as yours. Jennie doesn’t get to come home. Everyone on the team has been busting their ass off for you. Bending over backwards just so that you feel comfortable. And here you are acting like a rebellious teenager, running off alone without telling anybody! Y/N you really need to start growing up.”

“One. I wasn’t alone. If you had simply called my security, you would have been able to find out where I was. And two, do you really think that this is easy for me? I know that it’s been hard for everyone! You don’t think I see it on your faces every time you look at me? You think I wanted to put you through this? I am trying my best, but I just needed some time alone.”

“You. Can’t. Be. Alone!” she enunciated.

“I know!”

“Then why–”

“–I just needed to get away. I’m so tired Lex. Tired of disappointing you, and everyone else when I don’t recall certain things. Tired of having to have everything be explained to me. Tired of feeling like I’m being suffocated. So while I understand that going off without saying anything was dangerous… that time alone did more for me than what the last two weeks of therapy has done.”

It was the first time in a long time where you really had to dive deep and explain all the things you were feeling. Of course, your therapist expected you to do this with her; though that was easier said than done. With Lex, however, it all came out easily; all the pent up frustration and all the things you were afraid to say to a stranger.

“Y/N I understand that, but therapy is good for yo–”

You interrupted once again. “No you don’t Lex! How can you honestly say that you understand? Did you suffer the brain injury? Did you have everything in the past year ripped away from you? Do you have a girlfriend that you look at and don’t remember? The therapy has been helping everyone but me. You and everyone else get to feel reassured knowing I go there to get worked on when in reality it only makes me feel worse.”

The last few words were hard to get out. No matter how many times you swallowed, there was still that persistent lump in your throat. And every time you exhaled, you could feel your chest tighten up and the ache in your ribs intensify. Trying your best to not let it get the best of you, you sat on the floor and slumped against the kitchen counter. At the same time, Lex came around from behind the island, knelt on the ground next to you and rubbed your back.

“I am just trying to help you Y/N. I don’t know of another way to do that. I’m doing all that I’ve been told by the doctors.”

“I know. It’s just frustrating to feel like nothing’s changed. To me, I’m still where I was a year ago. Heartbroken and confused. And it certainly doesn’t help with everyone telling me that I was happy and had all these great things– I just want to remember.”

Lex didn’t say anything after that and neither did you. For the rest of the night, you two sat there on the ground in your kitchen, while she hugged you and let you cry it out on her shoulder.

[9:30 AM KST, three days before the new premiere]

In your dressing room with a towel wrapped around your body, you stood there looking at all the shirts and sweaters that were either folded on the shelves or hung on the racks. There were so many options, yet none of them stood out to you. Turning around you decided to look for a pair of pants in hopes that maybe it would help you decide on a shirt, but instead, your eyes landed on the clothes on the other side of the closet. T-shirts, sweaters, dresses and things like all sorted by colour were neatly stored on the other side.

Your first night home after the accident you stayed up all night looking at all the things that you knew didn’t belong to you. And every morning since then there was always a brief moment where you were confused to find things that weren’t yours. Whether it was her assortment of perfumes and makeup in the bathroom or the very clothes that you found yourself staring at.

After deciding what to wear, you walked out and headed into the kitchen. Not surprisingly, Lex was already seated at the table eating her breakfast. However, what was surprising and in fact made you smile was the fact that she didn’t have your breakfast already laid out for you in the spot next to her. It was baby steps but still progress in letting you have some control.

So you were listening yesterday... thank you. The voice in your head said.

When you finished with the breakfast that you had made for yourself, you got up, put your dirty dishes in the sink and headed to the front door to go to your physical therapy appointment. On your heels, Lex walked with you to the front door.

Babysteps Y/N. She’s trying. Let her say goodbye.

Once you were able to get your shoes on, you stood up and both of you laughed at how out of breath you were just trying to get up. As a habit, you stood there and waited for her to open the door for you.

With a puzzled look on your face you looked at the door and then back at Lex, with a smile on her face she said, “what? You said you wanted independence, so here it is.”

You laughed and shook your head. “By letting me open the door by myself?”

“Precisely.”

“Okay… here I go,” you said as you put your hand on the handle.

But before you could turn it, Lex pulled you in for a hug, rested her head on your shoulder and said, “will you just promise to call or text me if you aren’t coming home right away?”

Pulling away and with a smile, you said, “okay. I will.”

…

Walking down the hallway toward the door of your apartment, you held your once broken wrist in your other hand. Truth be told ever since the doctor took the cast off, you had a hard time letting your wrist be free; guarding it just in case you accidentally bumped into something. You knew that your fear was irrational, after all, he assured you that there was no need to keep wearing a cast or much less a wrist guard. It was healed all the way through, but still, out of habit you couldn’t help but guard your wrist like it was still broken.

Once you got to the door, you practiced what you had done at least a thousand times in physical therapy. In the weeks leading up to this moment, you went over the motions that you did in your everyday life before the accident. Motions that you didn’t have to think twice about. Such as twisting locks, tying shoelaces, pouring liquid into various other cups without spilling, and even opening doors like you were doing now. Each of them you did at least a hundred times a day, which you figured was probably why you were so frustrated when you had to come home and do them all again.

Very slowly and carefully, you clasped your fingers around the metal handle, and to your surprise, it twisted on its own. As a reflex, you pulled your whole hand back. Before you could question why the door handle had turned on its own, the door opened and revealed Jennie? Why are you here?

For some reason, the sight of her caused a sudden hitch in your breathing. Both of you stood there staring at each other, frozen on opposite sides of the doorframe. When you looked her up and down, you saw that she was holding onto a pair of white shoes. Immediately taking notice of what you were looking at, she held them up and said, “I needed these for the dance practice video we’re going to film today. I forgot that I had left them here.”

Still, for some reason, you couldn’t say anything and instead nodded all the while giving an awkward smile. Smooth Y/N. Just smooth.

“You got your cast off?” Jennie asked while also grabbing a hold of your arm.

Tenderly she ran her fingers over your wrist in the same motion you were doing just a few minutes earlier. And for a moment you allowed yourself to remain still with her hands wrapped around your arm and her fingertips making small circular motions over your skin. Her touch was soft and gentle, almost enough to make you forget just how long you two were standing there. Impulsively and like a child with a toy, you pulled your hand out of hers and held it with your other hand.

Nice job Y/N. Why are you so nervous? Relax! The voice in your head screamed.

“Uh– yeah. The doctor said I didn’t need it anymore. I’m all healed,” you said as you smiled, trying to distract her from what you had just done. During the last few words to come out of your mouth, a look of sadness flashed across her face. It was fleeting, but you caught it anyway.

She didn’t smile or seem the least bit happy like she was a few seconds ago, which made you question whether you had done something wrong. There was yet another awkward silence and before you could ask her about it, she said, “well… I should get going, the members are waiting for me in the van downstairs. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She must have seen the look of confusion all over your face, which prompted her to clarify what she meant. “At the party?”

“Right.” And with that held the door open while the both you traded places.

“Jennie?” you asked, immediately causing her to stop in her tracks. She looked back at you expectantly.

“Good luck with your recording today. I hope you guys can knock it out on your first tr–” as the words were coming out, you didn’t notice but she had moved closer and threw her arms around you in a hug. Automatically as a force of habit, you stiffened up in order to shield your wrist, which probably gave Jennie the wrong idea that you were uncomfortable with her hugging you. But that couldn’t have been further from the truth. The hug was tight and made you feel secure. “You don’t have to say anything back, but I just wanted to say that I missed you,” she whispered.

Before you knew it the hug was over, and she was already making her way back to the elevators, not giving you the time to reply. Either that or you really did take too long; with Jennie, it was difficult to discern whether seconds or minutes had gone by. The way in which you two locked eyes just before she got on the elevator left you frozen just outside your apartment door, even long after she left.

…

[6:30 PM KST, two days before the new premiere]

As the van you were riding in came to a stop, you opened your eyes and sat up straighter in your chair. Through a quick glance out of the window next to you, you could see that you were stopped in front of the gates at YG. There was a loud buzzing sound, and after a few seconds, the van lurched forward causing you to grab onto the armrests of your chair, but it wasn’t long before you yet again came to another stop.

Looking around you could see that there were several other vans identical to yours waiting outside in a line just before the front door. Too many in fact if each van was responsible for dropping off one person, there would surely be too many people still. YG told you to expect a big party for the release of your documentary, but there was no way you could have expected this.

Soon your van came to a stop at the front of the building, and once the door of the van was fully open, you waited for Lex to exit first and then did the same. On the way out one of the security guards standing outside extended his hand out for you to grab and steady yourself, which you gladly took and thanked him for.

Finally sheltered by the walls of YG, it was an odd sight to see the place so empty in light of all the commotion going on outside. In your head you questioned where all the people dropped off ahead you were when suddenly there were muffled sounds of music that could be heard from above, immediately answering your question. Shortly after stepping inside, you were being ushered to the elevators by some staff.

On the way up you nervously toyed with the bracelet around your wrist, so much that Lex took notice and grabbed your hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. It had been a while since you were last in a room with more than ten people at a time, so for a party of this size to be your first time in a long time, you were rightfully nervous. Before you knew it, the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened up to a crowd of people; none of which you could recognize.

Just as Lex was being pulled away by some of the other staff, you told her to go off and enjoy herself. “Go and have fun. I’ll come find you if I get uncomfortable.”

The truth was that you were already uncomfortable, but after your argument the other day you felt bad for what you had put Lex through, and so if feeling the slightest bit uncomfortable was the price you had to pay for her to have a good time, you were more than willing to suffer it. You looked around to find someone you knew, but instead, your eyes landed on the bar across the room.

On your way to the bar, you looked at all the monitors and screens that were scattered around the room. It made sense, technically this was a viewing party, but no one ever actually watched the film at these kinds of things. Taking the time to look at the screens you noticed some of them were playing parts of your documentary, while others had the pictures of you and the members playing like a slideshow. God, I really need a drink.

“I’ll one have of these please,” you shouted to the bartender as you pointed to one of the drinks on the menu. The music was so loud that you were forced to.

After he had heard you and got around to making your drink, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around you saw that it was a woman who you didn’t recognize, but then again how could you, when the vast majority of the people you had become friends with here had been wiped from your memory.

“I’m sorry, di–do I know you?” you asked politely. You hated that you had to start off every conversation with that these days, but it was necessary.

Before telling the bartender that she wanted whatever you were having too, she leaned in closer and said, “no I don’t think we’ve met before. You just looked like the only friendly and sober one here. Should I know you?”

You laughed and hesitated on whether you should tell her this party was, in a way, for you. Ultimately, you decided against it and let the conversation naturally flow.

While she sipped on her drink she looked around the room rarely ever looking at you, and whenever she had to say something, she would lean in closer to your ear in order to speak over the loud music. Through your conversation, you two talked over topics like working for YG, your jobs and moving to South Korea. Since you had forgotten, you told her honestly that you couldn’t offer her much. But what you could do was recommend all the things you had done in the last few weeks. Which even then was very few, but still included some restaurants you and Lex frequented and even the park that you walked through the other day.

For once your conversation didn’t revolve around your accident, and it was nice. On top of all that, she didn’t give you that same look of pity you had become so used to getting these past few weeks. You were having such a good time that it was probably a good half hour into your conversation when you had noticed she had gotten too close for comfort. Part of you wanted to think nothing of it and brush it off as friendliness, but the other part of you felt guilty that you hadn’t noticed. After all, you were still dating Jennie. Right?

You two were just about to exchange numbers when you felt a pull on the arm that was furthest from her. When you turned to see who it was, you saw that it was Lex and after offering the woman an apology for the interruption, you leaned in closer toward Lex to hear what was so important. “Y/N I love you. You know that. But sometimes you make me want to just strangle you. Wrap up this conversation. You’re hurting Jennie.”

Lex pulled away and gave the both of you a polite smile, and if it weren’t for the things she had just said, you would have thought everything was fine. You knew it wasn’t Lex’s intention to hurt you, but the last words to come out of her mouth stung and immediately made you feel bad. Forgetting the woman next to you, you looked around the room to look for Jennie, but she was nowhere to be found. As if she could tell what you were doing, she pulled you in once again and said, “she’s no longer in the room. Wrap this up and I will take you to her.”

Turning around swiftly, you were just about to tell the woman that you had something to take care of and that it was nice talking to her, but somehow she understood and let you go. While walking away you heard her shout, “wait,” which prompted you and Lex both to stop in your tracks. Turning around one last time, you watched as she confusedly looked at one of the screens and then back to you, “you’re Y/– this party is for you?”

“It is,” you managed to say before turning around and being forcefully pulled away.

After getting off the elevator, you were able to recognize where Lex had planned to bring you with the help of the familiar artwork that hung on the walls. If your guess was correct, you would end up at your office. Since the documentary was finished, there was no reason for you to use it, but after the accident, Lex took you to see it once.

Both of you stood in front of the door and looking through the frosted glass you saw that the lights were turned off. In a serious tone and just before leaving, Lex said, “I’m going to go meet up with the rest of her members, but you two should talk. You owe her that much Y/N.”

Lex was gone and you were standing alone in the hallway, you twisted the door handle and walked in. It was dark in the room, but after blinking a few times to adjust to the lack of light, you could see that Jennie was leaning against the couch. In her hands, you could see what looked like a framed photo. Once inside the room, she placed the photo down next to her, wiped her face with the back of her hands and looked up at you for the first time.

Shit. You were crying. Good job Y/N. Good job.

“Jennie I’m sorry,” you said, not wanting to move any closer. She didn’t say anything and so you continued, “it was never my intention to hurt you. I’m just– I’m not sure what it is that you want from me.”

“I want you to stop flirting with people that aren’t me! I want you to remember Y/N!”

“You don't think I want that too? Do you really think that I enjoy putting you and everyone else through all this pain? And as for speaking to that girl, I’m sorry if you mistook that for flirting. I really am. But I refuse to apologize for simply having a good time. For once it was nice to have someone treat me normally, and not as if I’m some sort of project. Something that needs to be worked on, or fixed.”

Your tone was more condescending than what you had wanted, but you couldn’t help it. Enough was enough, and you were done with being reminded of the injury and what it had taken from you.

“Is there something else that I can do for you? What can I do? What do you want from me?”

“I want you to tell me you love me again. I want our mornings where we go back and forth over who gets ready first. I want the rushed lunch dates we used to sneak out on in the middle of practice. I want our routine dinners with the rest of the members and Lex. I want– I want us, Y/N. Where we used to be.”

For a moment you stood there to take in and internalize everything about what she had just said. Every aspect: from the words she used, the tone, down to the pauses she took. The desperation and sadness in her voice are what got you to soften up, though as much as you wanted to give in to what she wanted, how could you?

How do you tell a girl that you don’t remember loving, much less remember, that you love her? How do you look at the girl that everyone says you were madly in love with... and tell her that you don’t remember a single thing that happened between you two? How do you avoid crushing the heart of someone who was very clearly in love with you? The answers to all these questions were different, but among them was a common theme; all of which would end up hurting Jennie.

Enough time had passed to the point where Jennie mistook your silence for not wanting to continue with this conversation and headed for the door.

“We should get back to the party. I’m sure everyone is looking for us,” she said just before leaving the room.

It didn’t sit well with you to let her walk away from your conversation because it was far from over, but it simply wasn’t the right time. What also didn’t help was that you didn’t have the answers, and what she wanted, you couldn’t give her. In theory, you could have, but your heart wouldn’t have been in it and deep down you knew that was unfair to the both of you.

The rest of the night was impossible to enjoy, and so after finding YG you thanked him for the party and told him that you had to go home because you were feeling unwell. He understood and signalled for one of his staff to take you home. Not being in the right headspace as well as not having the energy to explain what happened, you told Lex that you would be heading home early, and convinced her to stay.

When you got back home and were settled in bed, you ran over countless scenarios in your head until you fell asleep. In the end, it all boiled down to two options: working with what you had, or letting her go.

Wouldn’t you be better off without me? I wouldn’t be there to cause you any more pain, and you could move on. If I were half the amazing girlfriend you claim I was, I would do this for you, right? Set you free so that you could be happy?

[11:30 AM KST, the day before the new premiere date]

Your phone buzzed loudly on your bedside table instantly waking you up. Blindly smacking the surface of the table, your hand finally landed on it. With your eyes still closed, you unplugged it and brought it closer to your face. Pressing the side button on the side and with one eye open, you saw a text from Jennie. Shooting up in your bed, you unlocked your phone and read the message.

Jennie: are you up? can you meet me at this park?

*Jennie has dropped a pin*

You: yes. right now?

Jennie: in 10? I only have an hour lunch.

You: okay.

…

“Damn that’s spicy,” you said as you put your food down on the bench next to you and tugged at the collar of your shirt. Not only did you feel the spice spread like wildfire in your mouth, but it eventually began to spread down through your neck and into your chest giving you instant heartburn.

“Did you also manage to forget that you don’t like spicy food too?” Jennie laughed as she handed you a water bottle she had just finished opening.

While taking the bottle and chugging the cold water that was inside of it, you looked over and through the tears in your eyes, you watched as she laughed in your suffering. The spice only seemed to get worse and it hurt like hell, but all you could think of was how good it felt in the moment to have made her laugh instead of cry.

When you had arrived at the park, you were surprised to see Jennie with no security. She sat there all alone on one of the park benches with the food that you were now devouring in her lap. And with the way that everything had gone the night before, the last thing you thought you two would be doing was having a picnic in the park. So far you were genuinely having a good time, but inevitably when you thought about what you two still had left to discuss, it loomed over like a dark cloud. Keeping you from being able to bask in the sunlight and happiness that seemed to radiate off of your current company.

Whether it was one of the side effects of your injury or your surmounting impatience, you impulsively asked Jennie why she had asked you to come to a park out of all places. Desperately, you searched for an answer in one of her many facial expressions. When what looked like some sort of satisfaction covered her face, you were surprised to say the least.

“Right. You wouldn’t remember it. This is your move Y/N. I’m pulling a you, on you…”

A move?

You gave her a questioning look to which she replied with, “the last time we argued… we had a screaming match in your hotel room, which resulted in you having to sleep in Lex’s room. And literally, the next day you brought me to a park– an amusement park of all places to work things out. What did you say to me again?”

It took a few minutes but you could tell the exact moment when she remembered because she sat up straighter and smiled, “you told me you picked that place so that we would be forced to have a mature conversation, and if not, then we would be forced to look like ‘two idiots screaming at each other at an amusement park.’”

“And did we argue?” you asked.

“We did not.”

You believed her, not because she had no reason to lie, but because it certainly sounded like something you would do. I wish I could remember Jennie. I really do.

“Jennie, I don’t want to argue anymore.”

“Neither do I.”

“I thought about it yesterday, and seeing you that upset… I never want to be the cause of that. So it is because of that reason that I’ve decided to let you go.”

You had more to say, but because she was so silent and hadn’t moved in the slightest, you paused to see if she was even listening.

“Just be happy Jennie. Enjoy the rest of your tour being carefree. I don’t want us–or me, to hold you back. I don’t remember anything so don’t feel bad for getting to walk away. It’s a free pass,” you joked to make light of the situation.

You were relieved to hear her laugh, but listening closer, you quickly gathered that it wasn’t because things were funny, and instead were out of frustration. “Out of all the things your brain allowed you to forget. Events, people, certain habits… you didn’t lose the one thing I hate the most.”

“And what’s that?” you asked, wanting to indulge her.

“Your tendency to run when things get difficult. You did it with Irene and now you’re doing it with me. How do you do that? Go off and just decide?”

While she moved to dab the corner of her eye with the sleeve of her sweater, she mumbled something else, but it was just enough for you to hear it. “Why did you have to make me love you?” she asked.

It broke your heart to hear it in the way she said it. It would have broken anyone’s, but it only reiterated the reason why you decided to end things. There was no reason to fall deeper and suffer the consequences. No reason to keep hurting her this way.

“I just– I don’t want to keep going around in this cycle. Every night when I go to bed, I replay the movie that is us. I break up with my girlfriend back home, I come to Korea to work with you, I meet you, and then it ends. There is no plot. There is no love story. There is no happy ending. Just unnecessary pain at the end.”

In the last sentence, you could feel the tightness in your chest return, and so you stood up. Jennie remained seated on the bench.

“Y/N but no one is hurting! You are doing that all on your own by pushing us away. You’re just confused, it’s the injury.”

There was no getting through to her either. Everyone was either dismissive of the things you felt or made excuses on your behalf. Somehow and someway it was always because of the injury. It was frustrating enough to feel like people were constantly trying to piece you back together, but what was even more frustrating was the invalidation you had to face every time you made a decision. Once again, making you feel as if your life was no longer yours.

“I’m hurting!” you yelled causing Jennie to flinch. You tried your best to not let it get to you, but it was too late. You slipped. You dropped the ball. You lost it.

Frustratedly, you closed your eyes and ran your hands through your hair, all the while you paced in the spot in front of the bench. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to–it’s just so frustrating when no one understands... Out of all the questions I get asked in a day it’s never the right ones. When the doctor asks where it hurts, I hesitate and point to my ribs when in reality it hurts everywhere. I must be the only patient in the world that can’t tell the doctor exactly where it hurts. I mean how do you point to something that doesn’t quite exist, an intangible injury? I wake up, take my meds, go to therapy, come back home to watch videos, and do it all over again the next day. Nothing is coming back and it is killing me trying to get back to where I was.”

Amid your long and drawn out speech, Jennie got up and stood directly in front of you. She put her hands on your face and tried her best to lock eyes with you. While she held your face steady in her hands, she pleaded, “just try for a little bit longer Y/N. If nothing is helping then let me take you to all the places we’ve been to. We can do it all over again. Please.”

She was grasping at straws if you could even call it that. After all, there was nothing there. No relationship holding you together.

Taking her hands in yours, you removed them from your face and stepped back. It was already hard to breathe, and her holding onto you in this way only made it more difficult.

“But don’t you get it? I can’t give you what you want. You look at me and see this person that you fell in love with, but when I look at you I see a stranger. Realistically, how is this going to work if I don’t remember loving you? If you have an answer to that then I’ll do whatever it is you ask.”

It was only a few seconds later when she had something to say.

“Then don’t remember. Forget about what I asked for. Let’s just– start fresh. Give me a month to make you fall for me again. We can go back and do all the things we did in the past, or if that’s not what you want then we can do something else. Just give me a month, and if at the end of it you still don’t want this– then I’ll let you let me go. Even if that’s not what I want. One month Y/N.”

At every possible turn, she had an answer for you, almost as if she knew exactly what you would say. To be honest, you weren’t expecting her to have an answer right away, and that alone told you that she had thought about this from every possible angle. Which was something you thought you yourself could say until now. Turning around to look at her, you stood there completely dumbfounded; she gave you a solution that never once crossed your mind.

Could we really work things out? Would it be so bad to try one last time?

Her phone rang just then, and you couldn’t have been more thankful that it did. There was a lot to think about and you didn’t have an answer for her. Before you knew it, both a van and security escort showed up to take her back to YG. Even when you told her you needed more time to think about it, she was still reluctant to get inside the van. You two needed to figure things out quickly, at least before she left for tour again.

…

[12:30 PM KST, day of the premiere]

“Y/N! The van is outside, we have to go now or we’re going to be late!” Lex shouted as she came into your room, pausing at your door.

You sat still at the foot of your bed just staring at the ground. For the past hour, you looked down at the ground and contemplated. It was release day, and you should have been happier but the thought of what questions you might be asked by the press caused you great stress.

When you saw something move in your peripheral, you looked up and saw Lex standing there. She looked stressed out of her mind, and you could understand why. The last time you sat on a panel, the press had asked you a question that was a little too close to home. At least that’s what Lex told you the night before when she coached you the night before. When you got home from the park, Lex took you through some of the questions she thought they might ask. After all, how could you answer questions about something you didn’t remember filming? And so, a lot more preparation was necessary this time around.

…

[1:30 PM KST, day of the premiere]

If everyone could take their seats, the press event will begin soon. Please have your questions and other equipment ready as to not cause any delay.

For ten minutes, that same message repeated over and over again in both Korean and English. In the area before the stairs leading onto the stage, you and the members were surrounded by a dozen other people while they frantically checked each of your earpieces. Since the event was held for both Korean and international media outlets, translations would be made through an earpiece.

When the message stopped playing, you saw one of the stage manager's gesture for you all to begin walking on stage. In order, it was Jisoo, Jennie, you, Rosé and then Lisa. The moment Jisoo stepped on stage in full view of the media was when you heard the camera shutters begin to go off, and saw the bright white flashes of the cameras flood your current view.

For a few moments, you and the members stood in front of the enlarged version of the official documentary poster, occasionally turning to smile at a different section of the media. The constant flashing kept you from being able to see their faces and even hurt your eyes, but it eventually all came to a halt and you were all seated in the chairs placed in front of you.

Luckily the person leading the event gave you all a few seconds to gather yourselves just before answering questions. Once again, she reiterated the rules and even added a little bit about making sure that their questions were strictly related to the documentary and not of personal nature. When she was done reading the rules, the event began.

“This question is for Y/N. Is there a particular point in the documentary that you want the audience to pay close attention to? Or really just a general takeaway that you want to make clear?”

“I don’t want to give too much away, but there is a beach scene in Jennie’s episode that really captures the main idea or purpose behind this whole project. Which was to show you that as much as the life of a “celebrity” is idealized, there are also a lot of harsh realities and downsides that a lot of people don’t notice. You will see that they [Blackpink] all work incredibly hard, sometimes to the point of it being unhealthy. But at the end of it, if you [audience] were paying attention… you would see that as a result of going through the good and the bad, that they are in a way, like sisters.”

Satisfied with your answer, the reporter sat down and another one was picked.

“This question is for the members of Blackpink. Since the beginning, it has been said that you each have an individual episode that focuses on you as individuals followed by a final episode that focuses on you as a group. That being said, did you guys have a personal favourite among all the episodes? Is it your own possibly?”

Jisoo: I like the episode where it focuses on all of us. Well it might be true that there is a lot of content centred around us as a group, Y/N was able to capture us in a whole different light.

Jennie: I would have to agree with Jisoo. There have been plenty of things that have been released, but this documentary is nothing like we have done before.

Rosé: I would have to agree with Jisoo and Jennie. My favourite episode is the last one. It is best when we can all stay together.

Lisa: I like the one about me. No, I’m kidding, I like the last one as well. Y/N did a great job of showing our dynamic as a group.

The media laughed at Lisa’s joke and seeing how she was normally, it probably wouldn’t be the last one either.

The next reporter to be chosen was a woman. With her notes and pen in hand, she asked, “This question is for Y/N. What is one thing you are most proud of now having finished with this documentary?”

“I would say that I am most proud of how well the whole thing turned out, considering the nature of this industry as well as it being my first time taking on a project of this size. If you look back at all my previous work, they’re documentaries that are no longer than three-hours long. Whereas this one is just short of five hours. So obviously you could imagine there were concerns about keeping the audience engaged throughout the whole thing. But I will say, having watched it over and over again, I couldn’t have been more wrong, and I hope that you all enjoy watching it.”

No more than a few minutes after answering, yet another reporter was chosen. They had a badge around their neck that had ET written on it in big letters. While adjusting your mic, in the corner of your eye you saw Jennie fiddling with her hands underneath the table and her leg bouncing up and down. She seemed oddly nervous.

“Are you okay?” you whispered away from the mic.

But she didn’t get to answer as the reporter began to read their question. You didn’t take your eyes off of Jennie until the reporter mentioned that the question was for you. Hearing your name over the loudspeakers that hung above you reverted your attention back to the reporter in the crowd. Since you were unable to console her, without looking over at her, you blindly placed your right hand over hers. Instantly, her fingers clasped around your hand, and her leg stopped bouncing up and down.

“A month ago in a vague statement released by Universal, they cited that an accident involving one of their directors, which was assumed to be you, was the cause for the delay of the documentary. There were very few news reports and even some speculation on the legitimacy of that statement. Some even went as far as to report that the delay was actually due to the project not being finished on time. Can you clear all that up today by speaking on all that happened? Can you talk about the accident?”

This was the exact reason why Lex wanted to prepare you the night before. No matter how many rules were set in place, the media could easily just ignore those and ask whatever they wanted. It was messed up, but you quickly found out the hard way that that was the nature of this industry. The media, a bunch of piranhas, while you were the bait.

You sucked in a deep breath and tried to recall the statement that Lex drilled into your head. And for the most part, you stuck to it, but with the blatant disrespect for your privacy, you added just a little bit more to your answer.

“For logistical reasons as well as the fact that my recovery depends so much on not rehashing those details, I refuse to speak about the accident. What I will make clear though, is that the release was most definitely not due to falling behind on schedule. In fact, I will say that those rumours are actually quite insulting to the people who have worked hard on this project alongside myself. It’s very easy to make judgements, but what you guys certainly don’t see on the outside looking in, were the countless hours and immense amount of stress that was put on the employees that work either for me or for Universal when we were forced to delay. So if there is anyone to blame, I would ask that you blame me and not the people I work with. If it weren’t for them, we would not be here at all.”

After the last few words left your mouth, the reporter that initially asked the question, sat down in their seat clearly defeated in their intent to throw you off. 1-0, Y/N. The next few questions that were asked were for the members which you were thankful for as it gave you the time to rest and drink some water. Being nervous, combined with being under all the bright lights not only caused you to sweat but also made your throat feel like it was made of sandpaper.

When it came to the last question, every reporter in the stands before you threw their hands up in a rush to be picked. However, a young-looking reporter who remained seated at the very front was chosen. His question was for you, and by the tremor in his hand as well as the stuttering in his voice, you could tell that he was nervous.

“What do you plan to do now that this documentary is over? Did you have another project lined up? If so, could you offer us some details or any hints in advance? Thank you.”

You smiled at his ‘thank you.’ Out of everyone that asked a question today, none of them said those words, and so you appreciated it. To repay his small, yet still kind and meaningful gesture, you thought about repaying him with an answer that would surely be worthy of a few clicks on whatever article he would later be in charge of writing. Unsure of what you were going to say, you pushed back on your mic and sat back in your chair, taking a few minutes to look all around the room.

Before you were the eager and hungry-looking press. Off to the side was Lex, who had a mix of both a worrisome and a questioning look on her face. Beside you to your left was Rosé and Lisa, who gave you reassuring smiles to which you gave back. And then to your right, both Jennie and Jisoo.

When your eyes locked with Jennie’s, she smiled back at you, and you knew then exactly how to answer the question.

With your head turned away from the media and your hand shielding your lips, you asked Jennie, “a month you said?”

“What?” she asked, looking unsure if you were asking her.

You smiled and let out a small laugh, “last I checked it was me with the memory issue... Yesterday you said that you only needed a month to make me fall for you again. Is that all you need?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Just watch.”

After clearing your throat, you smiled and pulled the mic back closer toward your body. “Over these last few years, I have been so fortunate to have landed a career doing the one thing that I only ever saw as a hobby, and in a field that I could have only dreamt of being a part of. For the last eight years in a row I have filmed the lives of others, and greatly enjoyed the things I’ve been able to experience as well as the people I have met along the way. But somewhere in those last few years I found myself starting to dislike– and even resent the idea of having to film. That being said, I have decided to take a break. I do not have any other projects lined up, and even if I did I would decline the offer. As for your question on what I plan to do next, for the next month I have decided to stay alongside this one right here and follow through with whatever she has planned for us. For now, consider me retired. I am done with living my life through a lens.”

Just as you were done with answering, the media in the room went crazy. They were shouting for further clarification, but the event was over and you were already being escorted off the stage along with the rest of the members. For the first time in a long time, you felt the pressure on your chest begin to subside and the heavy weight you carried on your shoulders lifted off.

#blackpink imagines #blackpink rosé #jisoo #jennie kim #lalisa manoban #blackpink scenarios

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whatwouldmindykdo · 3 years

Text

I wrote a little something about coming to terms with my sexuality and thought I’d share it here...

For as long as I can remember I’ve dreamt of my wedding day. As soon as I was able to comprehend the concept of wedding and marriage it became my only goal, my ultimate achievement: I wanted, I needed to get married. This would make me successful and prove my worthiness. I would be happy forever. And so, for years, I’d spend hours imagining the magical day: the dress, of course, and its designer, the venue, the guests, the music, the menu, the bridal party, the decor. And of course, the groom. Because it was always a groom. However, I would find it extremely difficult to imagine him. I could think of qualities I would look for in a partner, but that was it. Looking back now, I think that, more than any of these things, what I dreamt of was being loved and being in love. I was just hoping to find the kind of unconditional love I grew up surrounded by. Not a person but a feeling. An ideal.

I grew up in what you would probably call a liberal family. My parents are very open-minded, left-wing voters and I grew up having political debates at the dinner table. But it was always about tolerance. Every love is love, they would say. Everyone deserves to be happy, they would say.

This, however, was not true for them growing up. Both my parents grew up in working class families and worked their way into the middle class. As liberal as my parents are, their own parents were rather conservative in thought.

My father’s parents had grown up on farms. Their own parents, my great-grandparents, lived a life I cannot even begin to comprehend. After the Second World War, as life was changing everywhere, and especially in the countryside, my grandparents left for the city (well, a city, not THE city) to work in factories. They were deeply religious and my father was raised a Catholic. However, he also enjoyed great freedom. He was free to come and go, almost as he wished, to play with his brother and friends. He was free not to work in school, drop out after middle school and go on to work with his father. Which he did, for a while, until he realized he didn’t want to do that his entire life. In other words, he was free to fail, and try again. Would it had been the same thing had he been a girl? We will never know, as he was one of two boys.

My mother, on the other hand, was not. Her grandparents had been mining workers, as almost everyone in the area. Her own parents had been saved from this life, and pushed to look for work in other industries. They had married young and my mother was the eldest of two. Her parents were heavily involved in political and union movements, pushing for workers’ rights. This gave her an awareness of the political situation and an ideal of what is achievable when you work for it. My mother, however, is also a woman. And as such, her parents expected her to behave a certain way.

She was expected to be the perfect little girl. Calm, pretty, smiling. Not to take too much space. Do well in school. Be polite. And so my mother tried her best to be this ideal girl. She excelled in school, practiced many sports, and took it upon herself to keep the family together and happy. She eventually went on to work and had to move out to another city, but always close to family as she was sharing an apartment with her aunt. When she found another job closer to her parents, she moved back home. Eventually, she met my father. They dated for a couple of years, but moving in together was unfathomable. Not before marriage. And that’s how my parents ended up married without having ever lived together, something I honestly find quite hard to imagine. Her brother, on the other hand, lived a life closer to my dad’s. He could not roam the streets or drop out of school but he did leave high school without graduating, moving out to work away and never looked back. He introduced many girlfriends to his parents before eventually having a child and getting married, in that order.

My parents would probably tell you that they raised me and my brother the same way. That not more was expected of me. That I could do the exact same thing he did. And to some extent that is true. We were both expected to excel in school. To be polite and respectful. We were both told we could dream of being whoever we wanted to be. But what had been instilled to my mother was also, somehow, perhaps more sneakily, taught to me. I also had to be the perfect little girl, no excuses. The one that doesn’t move. The one that doesn’t scream or make a scene. The one that helps at home. As Michelle Cliff says in Notes on Speechlessness, ‘I am reminded that a great compliment of my childhood was: ‘she’s such a quiet girl’’.

Instead of rebelling against this system I made it mine: it was my way of taking up space. My way of being remarkable. I was expected to excel at school: I was top of the class. I was expected to be calm and discreet: I would literally never speak. Even today it takes a lot for me to be able to do things I know my parents disapprove. Because I have built myself through others’ approval, and then who am I once they don’t approve?

What does that have to do with being a lesbian, you may wonder. See, I knew about lesbians. I knew about gays. It was not entirely unknown to me. I saw them on the news, we talked about them at home. But no one in my family was gay, lesbian or part of the LGBTQI+ community, at least not openly. That was not what we did. As much as my family rebelled against capitalistic society, we were expected to conform in certain areas, and this was one. We, as a family, are heterosexuals. And so I unconsciously associated being a good girl to being heterosexual.

I don’t remember the first time I heard of the LGBTQI+ community, nor do I remember the first time I had a crush on a girl. I am quite sure she was my primary school best friend. I very clearly remember wondering whether I was in love with her or whether that was just how you felt for your best friend (hint: I kinda knew the answer). And so, little me moved on with life. Eventually the feeling wore out, and there was a very intense and dramatic fall out. But that was it, no more questions about my sexuality. Not until I was well into my teenage years, at least. When I made it to university I had began what I would call my transformative journey, learning extensively about feminism, inclusivity and human rights. I was passionate about these subjects and wanted to learn more, and more. I surrounded myself with people who were open-minded, teaching me about these very topics, and, for some of them, part of the LGBTQI+ community. At about this time I began identifying as pansexual or bisexual. I have never been really sure about this. There was no major coming out though. I just stated here and there that I thought love was about a person and their soul, not their gender. Even though I was identifying as pansexual / bisexual, the doubt never really left. I felt ill-at-ease with the identification. Maybe I’m not into labels, I’d think. Maybe.

Deep down, I knew. I think I’d always known. I would get major crushes on women in films and TV shows. Maybe that’s just identification. I could hardly imagine being in a relationship with a man. Maybe I just haven’t met THE one. I would feel uncomfortable whenever a man flirted with me. Maybe I’m just not into him.

I just couldn’t imagine being a lesbian. And that’s not to say that I could fathom the very existence of lesbians. I knew they existed, I had a friend as they say. I truly believed that all love is love. What I couldn’t accept was that I was a lesbian. How could I not like men? Good girls like men. Good girls are straight. Good girls get married TO A MAN, and have children WITH A MAN. No way. I must be pansexual. Or bisexual. Not lesbian.

Funnily enough, the pandemic was a big transitional time for me. I was able to truly connect with myself. Away from the world and the mundanities of everyday life, focusing on what really matters for the first time, I came to a realization. I do not like men. I do not find pleasure in imagining a relationship with a man. This realization was validated by experience. I signed up on a dating app (what??? I know, don’t judge). My immediate reaction was to set up my preferences to women only (that should have been another hint right?!). However, almost immediately I changed those preferences to everyone (men and women). Why? Because, I thought, by excluding men I might miss out on the one (he’s always somewhere). What if I miss on the opportunity of happily ever after because I renounce to dating half of humanity? And oh boy did I regret that. I was instantly contacted by half the male population of my surroundings (the joys of being on a dating app) and it really felt like it was not for me. I was feeling miserable rather than happy, anxious rather than excited. I switched back to women only and I have felt safer and more myself ever since.

I guess you could say that I have been feeling rather at peace with who I am. I have come out to a few (selected) friends, in the least dramatic way possible (well, they also are the least dramatic women I know). There remains the question, however, of coming out to family. Because although I have come to term with being a lesbian, I am still scared AF when it comes to coming out to my family and the main reason is: what if I am not lesbian after all (eye roll emoji)? The real reason, though, is that I know that as open-minded as my parents are, a coming out also means a period of adaptation, of understanding what it means exactly. And for someone like me who hates both confrontation and disappointing this feels like a big deal. Selfishly, I wish someone had been there before in my family. That I would not be the first. The trailblazer. The odd one out. The lesbian aunt. But then, I think of my little cousins. And how I could be that person for them. If I allow myself past the fear.

Thing is, I also truly believe that I will not be able to be fully happy until I come out. I will not be truly happy until I can be who I am fully, knowing that the people who accept it are the ones who love me, for real. But what if that means losing my grandfather? What if it means that people will literally never stop talking about it?

As much as I have talked about the hardships of coming out and coming to terms with my sexuality, I will also mention that coming to terms with this reality has been a huge relief. It has opened me to a world where love and inclusion are legion. A world where you are accepted for who you truly are. It has given me role models, values and a political awareness that I probably would not have had otherwise. In other words, being lesbian is a blessing because it is who I am, fully. And when I get to be this person, I can finally start to breathe. I can finally start to live.

My problem lies with mainstream culture and the way it portrays lesbian relationships. I have grown up with the ability of seeing gay couples loving each other, hating each other, flirting, breaking up. Mainstream media and popular culture have very much romanticized gay relationships. What of lesbian relationships then? The reality is completely different. And how could it not be when Instagram still censored the ‘lesbians’ hashtag two weeks ago? When we only have The L Word as a reference? Where on TV and in films have lesbians been given the space and time to actually develop a relationship except in that show? And I’m not even talking about the perfect, happy relationship. Just any relationship. More than 3 minutes of screen time. You’ll have to agree that this is rather recent.

How different would my life have been if I had seen lesbian couples on TV? How different would my life have been if people had not shied away from lesbian relationships? It is time for pop culture to be inclusive of our people. Little girls need this representation. They need to know that this kind of love exists, is normal, and brings fulfillment. I wish this had been my reality so that I wouldn’t have been mad when Casey from Atypical dumps her boyfriend to explore her relationship with Izzie. Because then perhaps I wouldn’t have been mad at her for doing that. I wouldn’t have been mad at Izzie for being honest. Because that is how deeply rooted my fear of being a lesbian was: I was mad at these two women for having the courage to explore their feelings and be true to themselves, when Casey could have had the perfect ending with Evan. And that is not ok. I need to let go of the idea that the perfect life means being in a heterosexual relationship. Because I know that this is not for me. This will not bring me fulfillment.

#lesbian #lgbtqplus #about me #sexuality #coming out?#gays of tumblr

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miraculouscontent · 4 years

Note

Are you gonna do an analysis or review of Chat Blanc? (Just curious please dont feel pressured to)

This could’ve just been a fun what-if episode that didn’t have anything to do with the main universe, but nooooooooooo.

[Counter Clockwise]

Let’s get the obvious out of way right here and now.

This is the second time we’ve seen Bunnyx this season, making this the second time that time travel has been involved, also in this season (not counting episodes where Second Chance is used).

This is also the second time we’ve had an episode with its events being scrubbed away by the main characters not knowing exactly what happened, similar to “Oblivio” (also in Season 3). It’s not the same plot-wise, but it carries the familiar tone of, “something was left behind in memory of the episode but it’s not anything good” (yes, we’ll get there).

For “Oblivio,” it was that freaking kiss that was spread around on the Ladyblog despite Ladybug being horrified by it and not remembering how it happened.

For “Chat Blanc” here, it was Ladybug’s estimate of how Chat knew her identity in the parallel universe.

And it’s not like this season hasn’t repeated things before. Although “Party Crasher” did introduce Roi Singe, the introduction was rushed and it was just an excuse to get mileage out of Viperion, Pegase, and Carapace one last time a big mess that didn’t need to exist. “The Puppeteer 2″ also had nothing to do with anything and retread the plot point from “Frozer” where Marinette re-learned that Adrien was already in love with someone while also repeating an akuma just like “Stormy Weather 2,” “Gamer 2.0,” “Reflekdoll,” and eventually “Felix” did.

It’s… not a good look, and that’s not even taking into account that this is also the second time that Adrien has presumed that Marinette is Ladybug, with the first example being “Kwamibuster” (technically “Weredad” too considering that’s another episode involving Marinette trying to protect her identity, but Chat didn’t actually have any presumptions there and Marinette just thought he did).

Speaking of “Kwamibuster,” actually, I do believe that “Chat Blanc” goes before “Kwamibuster” (despite production order, which I still view as invalid) because, like… why wouldn’t Plagg bring up that episode when Adrien is rambling since I simply do not believe that Adrien wouldn’t have told Plagg about Marinette being Multimouse and Ladybug being there next to her. I mean, I don’t think much of Adrien, but even I don’t think that Adrien would be dense/dumb enough to just forget that “Kwamibuster” happened.

“Chat Blanc” takes place late in the season because of the “intensity” of it and that’s about it. It doesn’t have any plot-relevant reasons to be put so close to the finale. Nothing important happens that stays important by the end of the episode, and Bunnyx just leaves in the end with no information known.

Even with the information that was in the parallel universe… well…

[All in Bad Time]

First off, not gonna lie; I feel legitimately bad for anyone who held out hope that Gabriel was redeemable.

I mean, it’s not like there’s nothing good in the parallel universe. For once, we got Tom actually taking charge and really defending Marinette. That was nice.

Outside of that though, it’s a bit of a wreck.

Since I already mentioned Gabriel, I might as well start with him. Now, I openly admit to being a very unforgiving person; there tends to be a certain threshold where I point at a character and note that there’s no going back for them and nothing they do will get me to like them or consider them worthy of redemption.

Now, already, I had passed that point in terms of Gabriel, but dang, this episode really goes all the way with making you hate this guy.

Like, after “Simon Says” with Gabriel hugging Adrien, “Queen Wasp” with him quitting and hugging Adrien (sensing a pattern of sorts), and then “Gorizilla” with Gabriel (as Hawk Moth) panicking over Adrien (that one was… weird, admittedly), and also “Mayura” with Hawk Moth telling Gorizilla to protect Adrien, one would think that Hawk Moth has - y'know - standards. We already knew that he didn’t have consistency, but we thought that he at least had standards.

Yeaaaah, not really.

For starters, we have Marinette here and, I gotta say, this is similar to the thing I said about Reflekdoll where it’s just… no fun to have a character with no real limits/preferences? Adrien is obviously going to be the big one here concerning Gabriel, but Marinette is a problem too.

Back in Seasons 1 and 2, Gabriel seemed to have a decent enough opinion of Marinette. He was impressed by her hat (and later goes to compliment her again in “Queen Wasp”), he preferred her to Chloe in “Frightningale,” and even in “The Collector,” he lets her off with no punishment whatsoever when she claims to have stolen Adrien’s book.

But then Season 3 drops, and Gabriel tries to akumatize Marinette multiple times, all with varying degrees of failure. He has no issue teaming up with Lila to go against Marinette, and there’s really no motive for it aside from his schtick of claiming that so-and-so will be his “masterpiece.”

Now, if “Queen Wasp” was before “The Collector,” then maybe I’d understand (because Gabriel would be set up to have a negative opinion of Marinette since she stole the grimoire), but it can’t be because “The Collector” was Gabriel’s reveal as Hawk Moth. It’d also make sense if Gabriel just wanted to akumatize Marinette because she’s alluded his akuma all this time (which has been a common fan joke anyway), but that’s not what’s happening.

And then there’s the fact that Gabriel’s plan to akumatize Marinette here is to have her break up with his son. I’d understand if there was an actual reason for them to break up - then Gabriel is really just capitalizing on an opportunity and would’ve demanded that she break up with him anyway - but there’s no in-plot reason given outside of Gabriel wanting to akumatize her.

Heck, it wouldn’t even be that hard. Adrien might just be shirking some of his responsibilities to date Marinette, or sneaking out to spend time with her/generally not being at home as often. Chat already has a reputation for forgetting about basically everything when he’s around the girl that he loves and the Adrienette ship seems constantly stuck in “honeymoon phase” while they’re dating, so I wouldn’t be surprised if Adrien is wholly out of it.

The problem in this episode is that we just don’t have enough information. Adrien tells us that he’s not going to tell Ladybug anything and then he goes to confess to Marinette, but that’s about all we’re given to chew on. Does Ladybug tell Chat that she’s dating? Does Chat say that he’s dating someone too and just compliments “his girlfriend” a bunch for whenever Ladybug eventually figures out his identity? Does Chat stay vague in case Ladybug falls for Chat too?

(By the way, just sayin’, I see no reason why Marinette shouldn’t have told Adrien about what Gabriel said and no reason why Adrien wouldn’t demand to know anyway; also, Adrien would’ve 100% impulsively ran away from home had Marinette told him what his father said to her. “I’m living my life as Chat Noir now, m’lady.” and then proceed to not care about his father at all. “Gamer 2.0″ already showed that Ladybug is just the most important thing to him and “Frozer” showed that he wanted to live on an island with just her, so yeah, episode resolved there, end of story, too big of a plothole to leave unanswered, please fill.)

Adrien learning Ladybug’s identity is a big deal yet it’s brushed off as nothing (because the big turning point instead is Gabriel learning that his son is Chat Noir). Honestly, had it just been a Ladrien episode instead (i.e: Adrien dating Ladybug instead of Marinette), very little would’ve changed about the actual plot and it would’ve actually made sense for Gabriel to want Ladybug to dump Adrien because Ladybug is his number one enemy (all of his attempts to get close enough to snatch her miraculous would be in vain) and an akumatized Ladybug would’ve been an actual masterpiece.

Point being, for Gabriel to do this when we have no information is bizarre, and doubly so considering the fact that Adrien is clearly happy dating Ladybug Marinette. Even if his plan is to akumatize Marinette and then just tell her to date Adrien again afterward, that’s not stated outright and also isn’t supported by the narrative considering that Gabriel is perfectly fine beating up his own son.

(I also see some potential bad press when reporters hear about the break-up and either demand questions or spread rumors.)

And I’m sorry (I’m not really sorry), but I do not understand Hawk Moth’s strategy here. Yes, Adrien being Chat Noir makes it easier to get his miraculous, but also, two things��

1 - Gabriel could’ve just taken Adrien’s ring in his sleep; yes, akumatizing him would help him get under Ladybug’s skin, but first, how does unlimited destruction get him the miraculous if Chat Blanc’s Cataclysm destroys the miraculous too (he’s been stupid before about this with stuff like Reflekta (Desperada and Party Crasher at least had insurance policies) but from an episode with so much hype riding on it, I expect Hawk Moth to use his brain a little), and second, Chat is Ladybug’s main partner. Ladybug is not defenseless without him, but he’s not completely useless to her either.

If Gabriel can just keep Adrien (who wouldn’t know who took his ring) locked away from Ladybug long enough to make another akuma, Ladybug will have no idea that her partner won’t show up and also won’t be able to go find the guardian to get more miraculouses once she realizes it, because Mayura and the akuma will certainly chase after her. She’ll be all on her own.

In addition, Gabriel can lure Adrien to the room with Emilie after taking his ring, then throw the exposition at him before offering his ring back if he agrees to help (still scummy, but not as irredeemable). That means that Ladybug won’t be around to tell Chat not to fall under Hawk Moth’s control whICH BY THE WAY–

Hawk Moth, in the actual episode, doesn’t even hold Ladybug back. What’s stopping Ladybug from getting the bell away from Chat or telling Chat to tear the bell off (if it worked for Chloe, it’ll work for Chat)? Even if touching an akumatized object gets Hawk Moth in Ladybug’s head too, she can either use her yoyo to break it (considering that her fist broke the bell in the episode itself) or just grab the bell anyway and smash it (because I don’t think Ladybug would fall under Hawk Moth’s control alongside Chat). I know we’ve never seen what happens if you break an object while the person is still pre-akumatized, and it made sense in “Zombizou” because she wasn’t Ladybug and couldn’t purify the akuma, but Ladybug shouldn’t be part of this equation and it adds too many questions.

2 - Now, of course, I’m not experienced in villainy, but I’m pretty sure that the first rule of getting someone on one’s side is to not being a complete moron who beats them senseless first and then expects them to join.

I vaguely understand that Hawk Moth’s strategy was (probably) to just destroy Chat enough mentally so he’d be akumatizable whether or not Emilie was convincing on her own, but when he’s so sadistic about it, positively gleeful when he realizes that his son is Chat Noir, it seems less like a strategy and more like him not only favoring the wish over his own son, but also getting joy out of hitting Chat around as if he feels like Adrien wronged him by being Chat Noir and now Adrien needs to be punished (which would’ve been nice for him to say since Adrien already knows that he’s Hawk Moth by that point anyway).

I just have no idea what the intention was there. It felt like the episode wanted to have it both ways where Chat was conflicted enough to not reject the akuma, but also throw in the angst and “drama” of Hawk Moth hitting him around (after that opening where he acted as if he wanted Emilie to come back for both of them and not just him) because hey, Adrien’s life is sad, his mom is comatose and the fact that he’s about to kill everyone isn’t enough.

And then, as if that wasn’t already ridiculous enough, they have Chat Blanc be torn on who to shoot with his destructive powers. I understand that Hawk Moth is the one who akumatized him, but we’ve seen from Robostus that akumas CAN go against Hawk Moth. Yes, Hawk Moth is his father, but he’s now a physically abusive father (who is constantly “too busy” for him and tried to keep him from being happy which, again, we don’t know if Adrien knows but I don’t see why Marinette wouldn’t tell him; it would hurt Adrien, sure, but he should still know that his father is trying to sabotage them anyway. The episode cuts straight to Hawk Moth going against Ladybug and Chat Noir, but did Hawk Moth literally come up with this plan on the spot, because Marinette had more than enough time to tell Adrien otherwise!) and the love of his life.

Tough choices, I guess.

And then Chat Blanc just ends up killing everyone anyway, so it doesn’t even matter. He could’ve ultimately chosen Hawk Moth to fire at, but his destructive powers were so strong that he couldn’t control it (which would’ve been better once non-parallel Ladybug fights him, showing that he at least trained because he doesn’t want to destroy anything outside of his target).

It reads like a plot that’s being angst-y just to be angst-y (this episode will get no “edgy points” from me when it doesn’t know how to use that angst properly), and it’s not at all necessary.

Hawk Moth knocks Adrien out of the mansion because non-parallel Ladybug needed to find the Cataclysm’d version of her parallel self (which, by the way, how has Chat not found that already/tried to touch it himself, meaning it’d be already gone?) to make the audience wonder about what exactly happened, since non-parallel Ladybug stumbling upon this room with Hawk Moth, herself, and Emilie freaking Agreste would’ve actually been interesting and given the episode some semblance of value where Marinette either re-considers Gabriel to be Hawk Moth or just generally wonders if Hawk Moth himself took Emilie away for some reason (and later finding out that the peacock is damaged and realize that oh, if that happened to Emilie, then the person who has the butterfly is–).

Chat Blanc is crazy because angst, he’s losing his mind after being alone for an undisclosed amount of time. Bunnyx just leaves Ladybug there with no information (oh, and a comment about needing to jump back in time in case she fails because no one has faith in Marinette - we’ll get there - or Ladybug apparently) and an insane Chat Noir who wants her miraculous despite knowing that Miraculous Ladybug already fixes everything once the akuma is dealt with, meaning he can then worry about his comatose mother and the wish (y’know, the wish that Ladybug told him wouldn’t work as he wants right before she died, not that I expect him to listen to her anymore), but no, he’s insane because that’s boring and ensures that he doesn’t think about the obvious solution or the fact that another Ladybug probably isn’t going to come back if he kills this one too.

Like, just saying; if it’s the akuma making his personality that way where he wants the miraculouses that badly (which is dumb since he’s already seen that his destructive powers destroy the miraculous too, yet he’s still mindlessly trying to kill Ladybug because drama), then my question is how his love for Ladybug doesn’t override that when he already killed her and thought there was no coming back until this other Ladybug showed up (and also the fact that her kiss was the thing that distracted him long enough for her to snatch the bell, so her love worked eventually anyway but come on). Either he’s crazy because of the akuma or he’s crazy because of being alone, and neither are all that interesting because, again, the akuma being purified can still get the result he wants. Threatening to kill Ladybug if she doesn’t hand over the miraculouses won’t solve anything and his chances are better when he’s not akumatized.

And here’s the thing: I’m honestly in favor of episodes that explore the what-ifs, but not in this way; not with Bunnyx and time travel and needing to “save the future” or whatever. If it has to involve this “Bad End” scenario where there’s no other way out except for another Ladybug to swoop in and save the day, then that’s fine, but it has to roll with the needed care and limitations that come with that and also forward the plot and make it matter if everything else is just going to be scrubbed away in the end. I mean, the lesson “hey, Marinette, don’t let Adrien know your identity” (yes, we’ll talk about the “real” lesson later) is bafflingly pointless being taught to someone who already took secret identities very seriously and literally had an episode in the same season that showed the leaps and bounds she took to protect that identity.

Oh, and speaking of Adrien knowing her identity–

[Identity Politics]

Uggggggggggggggggggh, Adrien, why does it always seem to come to you.

So now we’re at the big start of all this chaos: Adrien determining that Marinette is Ladybug and then proceeding to go after her romantically.

I should preface this by saying that, no, I don’t wholly blame Adrien for wanting to pursue Marinette romantically. He’s a teenager and I legitimately believe that he thinks that he loves Marinette now and has always loved her and blah blah blah whatever. Adrien sometimes has this habit of rationalizing out his own thoughts with himself to make them seem more reasonable, and I imagine that’s what’s happening here.

…What I do blame him for, however, is not telling Marinette that he knows her identity and casually shrugging the notion off as if everything’s going to be okay. I mean, we all knew that Chat had always wanted to do an identity reveal (basically from all the way back in “Lady Wifi”), but we didn’t know that Chat would just not tell Ladybug if he found out without her knowledge. It’d be one thing if Adrien felt guilty about it (i.e: not wanting her to potentially get in trouble and wanting to stay as Chat because that’s his freedom), but instead, he just mentions it to Plagg once and it’s never heard from again until he’s forced to transform in front of Marinette.

Because we don’t see how Ladybug and Chat’s relationship is changed, we as an audience have no idea if Adrien even regrets that decision at all. Even after Chat uses Cataclysm on the butterfly, he doesn’t apologize at all even though this mess could’ve been prevented had Marinette been able to tell him about what Gabriel was doing by transforming into Ladybug and explaining it to him while he’s Chat.

There’s also the fact that Adrien comes to this “Marinette = Ladybug” conclusion basically out of nowhere. Ladybug may’ve delivered the gift to him and it has Marinette’s name signed onto it (which Plagg even suggests himself as a perfectly reasonable argument), but Adrien has no proof that Ladybug signed it herself (could’ve been fixed if Adrien had something with Ladybug’s signature on it and noted that the style was the same), and the on-screen examples we’re given (”Evillustrator,” “Frightningale,” and “Glaciator”) don’t show that Ladybug had any feelings for Adrien specifically; the latter just showed that she had feelings for a boy.

Adrien isn’t even coming to this conclusion because he saw Marinette running away with the gift earlier (i.e: to transform) since he doesn’t remember seeing her later in the episode when Ladybug lies and says that she’s delivering it for someone else. He didn’t even point out that it was odd that Marinette had the gift in the first place, meaning that scene was entirely pointless.

It’s not that Adrien blindly hoping for things isn’t part of his character (he’s been hoping for Ladybug’s love from the beginning), but to suddenly go off on this without a thought while Plagg is reminding him what the risk is here…. s’dumb. Plagg is clearly concerned about it but decides not to go to Fu and just let Adrien do whatever he wants despite the gamble Adrien’s taking.

I also don’t know whose idea it was to think it’s okay to have production codes dictate episode order when “Kwamibuster” is before “Chat Blanc.” “Kwamibuster” is such an easy thing for Plagg to bring up here and it’s not even mentioned.

And while we’re on the subject anyway, I might as well point out that Adrien isn’t just going after Marinette because she’s Ladybug. No, that’s not enough for him, because we saw in “Kwamibuster” that Adrien had basically no reaction to the scenario of Marinette being Ladybug.

The difference here is that Marinette’s gift is covered in hearts - a declaration of love - and that’s when Adrien makes the big jump.

It’s not, “Wow, my lady is Marinette and that’s awesome because they’re both amazing girls and I love them both,” it’s, “WOW, my lady is in love with me (and she’s Marinette too, I guess), I better jump on that.”

(Because Adrien coming up with similar traits they have that makes them the same would’ve been actually sweet instead of him conjuring up a fantasy just because it’s convenient for him.)

Ladybug being Marinette was irrelevant; it was Ladybug (who happened to be Marinette) being in love with Adrien that gave Adrien the encouragement he needed to pursue Marinette.

It’s even technically supported by the fact that Adrien doesn’t go to Fu. If Adrien realizes that Marinette is Ladybug, then that’s it; he doesn’t need her to be Ladybug anymore, and it’s not like he can date her as Chat anyway. Adrien might still want to be Chat Noir, but since the episode focuses so heavily on the Adrienette stuff, I literally don’t know why he’s bothering risking this stuff. Ladybug has even expressed distaste before concerning balancing her hero life, so maybe he’d think she’d want to be away from it (not that I would expect Adrien to remember that but stick with me here).

This is also supported by episodes like “The Puppeteer 2″ and “Ladybug,” where Chat is quick to flip as soon as Ladybug goes in for a kiss or confesses her love to him.

He doesn’t want Ladybug; he wants Ladybug’s love.

And as for how that affects Marinette herself…

[Marifret]

You know…

YOU KNOW–

Every time I think that this season is out of ideas for tormenting Marinette, it just comes up with another. It starts to feel like the writers just have assorted “how to torment Marinette” ideas that they have stored in a little box at the office that they’re constantly plucking out and then dumping into random episodes whenever they feel like it.

Marinette is the only one who gets anything out of this episode because she’s the only one who remembers the important stuff from it, and it’s not even anything good.

Not only did Marinette not need to concern herself with learning more about how important it is to keep her identity a secret, but the Lucky Charm gave her an eraser, explicitly to erase her name on the gift.

Because Ladybug didn’t need to erase her name. She could’ve either gone back further in time and not let her other self get wrapped up in exploring Adrien’s room (the Lucky Charm could’ve been lipstick to hint to Ladybug that she should distract Chat with an almost-kiss to get his akuma, and then Ladybug could’ve still gone through similar motions to realize that Adrien saw her past self leaving his room), or simply told Adrien that Marinette couldn’t get past Nathalie, so she was asked to deliver it instead.

But no. Instead, Lucky Charm explicitly gives her an eraser as if to say, “this is all your fault and erasing your name off your gift will fix everything.”

Even Bunnyx, in the midst of watching the flashbacks, asks, “What did you do, Marinette?!” which just immediately sets up the entire narrative as being Marinette’s fault.

Not Adrien’s fault because he kept everything a secret and presumed that Ladybug was Marinette despite having no visual proof of that.

Not Plagg’s fault for not going to Fu about it.

Not Hawk Moth’s fault for beating up his son and trying to akumatize him.

It’s all on Marinette. All of it.

All because she wanted to confess to a boy that she liked and lingered a little too long in his room.

So all the hard work Marinette put into the hat she made for Adrien doesn’t even matter, just like the scarf she made all the way back in “Bubbler.” It’s just another wasted effort on Marinette’s part.

Even in the parallel universe, she doesn’t get any time to process her thoughts. After Adrien confesses, the next scene with the parallel-Adrienette is the montage, with Marinette being completely unaware that Adrien confessed to her because she was Ladybug.

On an unrelated note since I’m talking about the montage anyway, this episode gives Kagami the dignity of a simple name drop only to then put Luka right in the background as Adrien and Marinette slow dance together. Like, writers, COME ON, show him some actual RESPECT.

There’s also the fact that Chat “I’d recognize my lady in an instant except for all those times I didn’t” Noir has already rejected Marinette in “Weredad,” and I mean firmly rejected, with no doubt as to how little he feels towards Marinette and how much he feels towards Ladybug. We’ve had the “just a friend” gag for three whole seasons now and then “Chat Blanc” comes along to have Marinette believe that Adrien is in love with her.

And when Chat reveals that he already knew she was Ladybug, again, no contemplation on Marinette’s part. She gets seconds to think about it before just collapsing into Chat’s arms because the episode gives her no time because that’s not important to the episode itself. Marinette (presumably) doesn’t even get to know that Adrien only wanted to confess to her upon realizing that she’s Ladybug.

Then we have this repeated problem where we don’t know the time frame. Did Marinette want to go to Fu? Did Chat convince her not to, and if so, why? What’s Tikki’s view in all of this and how was she convinced to let the subject go? Did Hawk Moth show up almost immediately, so Marinette’s only had time to leave and transform for what she thought could be the final battle, meaning that it wouldn’t be necessary to go to Fu?

We have no idea. The only things the episode makes time for concerning Marinette/Ladybug (in addition to a dumb joke about birthday presents that were definitely not crucial to the plot) are her being excited to be in Adrien’s room, her looking like a fool in front of Adrien as she lies, Chat Blanc yelling at her about how tHEiR loVe caused everyone in Paris to die, and her getting berated after feeling self-conscious for not delivering Adren’s gift.

Oh, and just BY THE WAY, going back to the beginning of the episode since I brought it up, can we just not with Marinette’s friends PLACING BETS on whether or not Marinette is going to confess to Adrien? Can we just not with them making a game out of Marinette’s anxiety and self-esteem issues concerning whether or not Adrien will love her?

It’s already bad enough that we get jokes and gags about the universe itself being against her, but now with have this.

This… horrible, horrible thing.

Oh, and of course, the moment where we see Rose finally go off on someone, looking absolutely enraged while doing so, it’s Marinette she’s going off at and almost physically hurting when she nearly slammed the lid of the basket down on Marinette’s wrist.

Not because Marinette self-deprecated and Rose is actually just “angrily” shouting about how amazing she is and how Adrien would be a fool to reject her feelings.

Not because Rose has been given some “tough love” advice beforehand and thinks that it’ll be best for Marinette, only to feel really bad about it afterward even if it worked.

No, it’s because… Rose lost her favorite stuffed animal in the bet and she’s mad about it. That’s it. She’s taking it out on Marinette for something she did.

And no, I don’t believe for one second that the stuffed animal had nothing to do with it; it had everything to do with it. I mean, come on, the fact that the day Rose went off just happened to be the day she lost her stuffed animal in a bet?

I totally acknowledge that it’s probably yet another joke berating Marinette for the hesitance that she apparently has to have, but one, it’s a waste of time that could’ve been spent elsewhere, and two, maybe the episode shouldn’t be fitting in its jokes and gags in something that’s supposed to be taken seriously. It’s not “Party Crasher” levels of tone whiplash but it’s still annoying to see Paris destroyed and then have Chat Blanc follow up with a Kamehameha Cataclysm.

And this is even ignoring the fact that Alix is extremely smug about it and happily takes Rose’s favorite stuffed animal, not at all ashamed that she was so confidently doubtful of someone who’s supposed to be her friend as long as she was right in the end.

Also doubly ignoring the fact that Marinette’s friends have had a history of behaving terribly concerning Marinette’s crush on Adrien (of which I have repeatedly documented) and they never once think for a second that it might be their fault that Marinette is not progressing at all, instead putting all the blame on her.

Oh, oh, and by the end of the episode (you know, since the writers sat down at their desks and thought to themselves, “this isn’t enough”), because Marinette was forced to erase her name from the gift, she doesn’t get the satisfaction of going up to her friends to at least say that she actually gave it to Adrien. She had to make up an excuse, inevitably damaging their view of her further.

It’s just… sad. Marinette goes through a ton in this episode from being nevous about confessing to the boy she likes, being yelled at by one of her friends, being thrown into a future with an insane Chat Noir who wants to kill her and take her miraculous, and then being told by her own Lucky Charm that the way to fix everything is to erase her name off her own work because Chat is going to get akumatized and everyone (including her) are going to die if she doesn’t.

And, on top of all of that, Tikki still has to sneak in a line that scolds Marinette for using her miraculous for personal gain, despite the fact that Marinette is literally just delivering a gift to someone. We’re back to this “Catalyst” nonsense once more because Marinette is never allowed to be selfish.

Implying that, again, all of this is Marinette’s fault because she wanted to use her miraculous for a couple minutes for something non-hero related.

You know, the power that she uses to protect all of Paris, that was thrust upon her and she certainly never asked for.

The power that she has repeatedly used with a perfect record, even when her partner was taken down.

The power that forces the weight of Paris on her shoulders and the knowledge that, if she fails, Hawk Moth wins and it’s over.

Yet, she’s never allowed to use it for herself or everyone dies apparently.

This is despite the fact that, when it was Adrien’s turn to use his power selfishly to set up a date for Ladybug, he not only got an apology from Ladybug for it, but he got double sympathy from Ladybug and Marinette, even getting Ladybug to blush by the end of it.

Oh, and he gets rewarded at the end of “Chat Blanc” too as Ladybug lays her head on his shoulder, despite his impulsiveness being partly/mostly the cause of everything.

Because that’s totally fair.

…This episode is a wreck. The entire thing is just a complete and total wreck.

Just another thing to add onto the list of reasons for Marinette to have a realistic and inevitable nervous breakdown, I guess.

*sigh*

#((I'm tired.))#category: long post #word count: over 5000 #category: critique #category: salt #episode: Chat Blanc #other: ask and answer

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swiftlymoniquesblog · 4 years

Text

Sam Girl- Sam Winchester x Reader

Pairings: Sam x Reader, Dean, Castiel

Warnings: FLUFFY FLUFF, mentions of the last half of the final season of SPN and the emotional rollercoaster we’re all currently on (I know, I’m sorry!) lying, secrets, insecurities.

Word Count: 2,407

A/N: This imagine kind of plays off my series Crossing Parallel Lines but it’s totally separate! I came up with this imagine from this locket that I bought from Hot Topic. The Winchesters are always so uncomfortable with the idea of “the other world with the actors who play them on TV” and I love Changing Channels; one of my top favorite Supernatural episodes!

*Italics are flashbacks*

“What?! No! What?! Oh, my Chuck, what the actual hell!” You yell at your phone and throw it across the room.

You huff in annoyance but you feel your heartbreak; you just watched the trailer for the last half of the final season of Supernatural.

“Y/N? Are you okay, I heard you yelling? What happened?” Sam asks, slowly stalking into your slightly ajar door. He knew you could get pretty expressive about your interests and sometimes, the best thing to do is to give you space.

You had been living at the Bunker for a few years since you had connections to the Winchester family. Not that you ever asked for it, but you grew up in the life as well, thanks to your Dad, who ended up getting killed during a hunt when you were sixteen. You had run on your own, doing your hunts, until you got in over your head, and ended up in front of the Bunker, needing the help of the Winchesters to defeat God. Yeah, he was after you too. Your family had more to do with him and had pissed him off, more times than not. It was your Dad who had discovered the lies Chuck had instilled into almost every hunter since the dawn of time, and that wasn’t okay. So, you had to pick up essentially where he left off.

You let out a heavy sigh, running your hands over your face. “Yeah, Sam, I’m okay. I just uh, watched something pretty, well I don’t know how I feel,” you look to him.

“What did you see?” He asks, coming to sit next to you on your bed, after getting the okay from you.

“Um, some animal got hurt and no one could save it,” you say as nonchalantly as possible, hoping Sam would still buy it.

“Oh no, yeah that would upset me too. I’m sorry you saw that baby; are you good now?” He asks as he wraps you up in his arm, pulling you into his side, and kissing your head. You hold onto the opposite side of him, nuzzling your head into his side and showing him the same affection as he was showing you, but also feeling guilty about your lie.

“Yeah, I am. I’m good now, thanks,” you kiss him quickly before you left the room. You hated lying to him but he could never know that side of you. He would dismiss you for sure.

Sam and you had been dating for roughly six months after he heard your discussion with Dean about a current crush you had. Names were never given but it wasn’t hard to figure out who you were referring to. The idea of being close to someone on that level of intimacy again scared him. He knew what the inevitable was for someone like him and it was unfair to the other and it hurt him with a pain he never felt with anything else. When he took interest in a woman, she becomes the center of his world the longer he is with her. Most of the time, however, they never stay too long. It could be a day or a night, or a few days if he was lucky, but the last long-term relationship he had, crushed his soul. Time went by and healed those wounds, but he couldn’t let anyone get too close, no matter how much he wanted to be invested. But when you came into his life, something shifted. He immediately took a liking to you but he wasn’t sure how far he could go. As time went on, and he knew you were sticking around, he allowed himself to go there. He allowed those feelings he knew too well, to flourish within his heart, and it was strange to him, but he liked it. When he found out the feelings were mutual, it did something in him he wasn’t used to; it made him happy. Sure, he’s been happy before, but he had a lot riding on a possibility and if he played his cards right, it could be extraordinary. And it has been. It all started slow, a snail’s pace really, but you couldn’t blame him. If you had been hurt and uncertain as often as he was, you would take everything slow too. That’s why lying to him now, was killing you on the inside. He didn’t deserve it but you knew what kind of man he was and you knew how he felt about certain things.

The library was quiet, so you could be alone with the screaming in your head. You fought with yourself constantly whether, to be honest, or not. Your biggest secret was a huge part of who you were. Adoration for the TV show, Supernatural, was an understatement; you LOVED it! But, hearing the stories from Sam and Dean about when they were stuck in another universe where there were people who act like them, you knew it was unmentionable. Social media was your avenue to let out all your thoughts and ideas with people who shared the same love. No one knew that you lived with the Winchesters, or that they were even real, but that made it more alluring to you. Sitting at the table with your laptop open, you scroll through different comments left by other fans of the show. They were seeing what you were living and that was the most rewarding secret you kept. Pulling the new locket out of your shirt, the words Sam Girl, engraved on the top. Opening it, the anti-possession symbol sat on one side, and a picture of Sam on the other. You run your thumb over the picture, knowing that he was yours, but kept it hidden from him. You owned a plethora of shirts, hats, jewelry, notebooks, and so many other merchandises, that you were quite proud of. You even had a successful blog that was dedicated to the show and the characters, and your imagination with fanfiction. All things you knew Sam would disapprove of. You began writing out your reactions to different videos or events that happened in, not just the Supernatural world, but other fandoms as well.

“Hey, there’s my girl. I was wondering what happened to you,” says Sam. He smiles his small, one-sided grin at you, and sits in a chair to your left.

“Hi, sorry, I got busy writing and I guess I lost track of time,” you admit, closing out your Internet tab and leaving your screen on the cute photo of you and him on your wallpaper.

“You always do,” he chuckles and takes one of your hands. Sam knew about your love of writing and only a few of the topics you wrote about. You laugh along with him, blushing at the fact he knew you so well.

“The life of a writer, baby!” You say, confident in your work, but seeing the look on Sam’s face, quickly changed the mood.

“Where did that come from?” He asks, looking at the chain that hung from your neck. Looking down, you noticed the locket had made its way out of your shirt.

“Oh, that’s nothing!” Grabbing at it and tucking it back in your shirt, you try to advert Sam’s curiosity but that fails.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, let me see it. It looked beautiful.” He comments but you deny him.

“Sorry, but it’s fallen into my bra now,” you say, hoping that would end the conversation but the Winchester Brothers were both very stubborn.

“Don’t think I’m afraid to go in there.” Slight darkness fogged over the normal brightness of his eyes, but it left just as fast as it showed.

“Honestly Sam, it’s nothing. Trust me, you don’t want to know what it is.”

“Trust me y/n, I do want to know. My girlfriend suddenly has a locket I’ve never seen before and won’t show me? I have to wonder if her other boyfriend gave it to her.

You deadpan to him, giving your best bitch face, and he just laughs.

“I’m kidding, but seriously, I want to see it.”

“You didn’t move at first, so he stood up and leaned over to reach in your shirt, but you backed away before he could get there.

“Fine,” you grumble, unclasping the necklace from the back and hand it over.

He seems satisfied that he won this battle, flipping the locket around in his larger than average hands. His eyebrows knitted together, in the cutest look of wonder, like he was a child with a new toy. He opened it, stared down at it for a minute, then handed it back to you.

“You have a locket with a picture of me, which I guess is normal in relationships, but why does it say Sam Girl on the top?” He looked at you quizzically, wanting to know more.

This was it, the time you were dreading the most, but you couldn’t do it anymore; you couldn’t keep lying to him. You prepared yourself for a long discussion and a lot of disgust from him, so you sat back in your chair.

“Sam, I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

“Oh, okay,” he sits back in his seat, eyes glossed with worry and locked on you.

“I’m a Sam girl. I watch that TV show about you and Dean and your lives; I’m a big fan of it. We have, the fans, what are called someone’s girl. Like me, I’m a Sam girl, so I tell other people how I feel about you , what you say and do, and I talk about my romantic feelings towards you. Well, you on this show; it’s a little different.”

Sam had kept quiet the whole time you explained your secret and he held no emotions. You didn’t know what was going through his head, but it couldn’t be good.

“You like that show about our lives from that other universe?” He asks, suddenly breaking the silence.

“Yes,” you answer, hoping he wouldn’t explode at any given point.

“And you didn’t want to tell me about it?” He then looks to you with his infamous puppy dog eyes, wondering why you kept something like this from him.

Taken aback by his calmness, you continue to explain. “Well, I heard the stories of when you went to that other world and how much it freaked you and Dean out, so I thought you would disown me or something if I was into it.”

“Why would I do that?” Sam asks, sadness now forming across his features.

“Because I like something you make fun of! I thought you would make fun of me for what I do. I’m in the whole fandom, Sam! The show, the merchandise, the fanfiction, the blogs; everything!”

That sparked his interest again. “You write fanfiction?” His tone got more questioningly, but you took it as he was going to lay on the mockery.

“Yes, but I swear it’s nothing like some of the stories people write about! It’s actually all clean and sweet. I write about our dates and my feelings, but play it off as fiction.”

Then, his face melted into a smile (GIF), that childlike wonder again. “You write about us?”

“Yeah, I do. And people like it.”

“They do?” He’s surprised now, telling by how high his eyebrows are raised on his face.

“Everyone thinks you’re romantic and that you’re the best boyfriend, but the best part about it, it’s all true,” you smile, but hide it from wandering eyes.

“That’s… sweet,” he comments, stunning you.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I love that you write about us. I think it’s great that you are proud of our relationship and it makes me proud of it too, especially considering other people think I’m pretty great.” He has a little smirk playing on his lips; he’s going to brag about this to Dean later.

“So, you’re okay with all this?” You start to creep a little further into his level of positivity from this topic.

“Surprisingly I am, and I love that you’re showing off that you’re mine,” he pecks your lips before asking another question.

“Wait, are there more of these lockets?”

“Yes, and there’s some that say Dean girl. The same concept,” you comment like it’s nothing but it’s a big deal to Sam.

“There are Dean girls, too?!”

“And there are Castiel girls too, and even some of the other people you guys have met in life, but mainly you three.”

“Oh my God, wait until Dean and Cas hear about this!” Sam was set on telling his brother and his friend; the worst thing you could think of.

“No, please don’t!” Panic set inside you. Telling Sam was one thing but Dean was another.

“Why not?”

“Because Dean won’t be so nice about this. He will mock and ridicule me so much for this. He’s way more opinionated and harsher than you are.”

He thought about it for a minute but knew you were right. Sometimes, his older brother would take things too far, to the point of hurting those he cared about, and Sam couldn’t let that happen to you.

“You’re right, he definitely will freak out over this. He’s way more headstrong about what he doesn’t like. Alright, I won’t tell him and Cas? Well, he’s gotten a lot better with human interactions but, we wouldn’t want to throw him for a loop again,” Sam laughed at confusing the angel with more human things, like when he first came to earth.

“Thank you, Sam,” You say, going to hug him.

“Of course, no one is going to hurt my girl, not even me. But uh, y/n, we need to get you another locket,” he says taking the locket in his fingers again.

“Why? I like it and I paid good money for it,” you take it back and drop it in your shirt.

“Well, there are more of these lockets out there so that means other girls are walking around with a picture of me around their necks. It’s not okay that yours is like everyone else’s, so I’m going to make a special one that I will have engraved with a message from me that’s just to you; my girl,” he whispers the last part right in your ear, electrifying chills through you.

“O-okay.” You stutter out as Sam goes fishing for your locket from the bottom up.

Second A/N: When I was looking for that GIF of Sam, ‘Sexy Back’ started playing; it was perfect!

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