#just to find out that in every. single. one. his flaws got erased to make fem shika out more superior | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alphabetboyluvr · 10 months

Text

bad decisions - jjk | six

Summer is spent in a technicolour haze of Purple Starfuckers, club lights, unorthodox gym routines, and enough glitter to open a craft shop. Jungkook doesn't quite know how, but he's always finding flecks of the metallic warpaint on his gym gear. Has a little laugh to himself whenever he does the laundry. Mutters, "Fucking Disco Ball." It's monsoon season by the time Hoseok and Danbi make their first appearance at the club without you. He texts you—boo, you whore—and waits in the backroom of the bar until he sees a reply come through. Busy tonight, your reply reads. It feels a little cold, but you don't mean for it to be. You're just a rush, and Jungkook nagging you is the last thing you need. JK: Busy doing what? You: none of your business x

Bad Decision #6 - Wishing

warnings: i like to call this a montage chapter - it's gets us through the entire summer :) gym trips! dionysus nights! jungkook being sexy in the gym! dynamic and friendship solidified!

soundtrack: c'est la vie - ethan surman; my type - brb.; happiness - the 1975

wc: 6k

bd total wc: 370k (on-going)

minors dni | wattpad | series masterlist |

The scowl on your face as you reach the gym prevails. You've a coffee in one hand—iced americano, double shot—and the hood of your sweater is bunching around your shoulders. You lift it over your head, and push the swing door of the gym open with your shoulder, wanting to avoid the unwanted eyes of Jiyeong, just in case she's working.

You don't look over to the reception, but the lobby is empty, regardless. It's quiet, always a little less busy in the morning than it is in the evening.

You make your way to the gate of the gym. Punch in the code. Get it wrong. Tell the keypad to 'stop being a prick'.

You try again, exhaling a weighty sigh as you do so.

There's a whir as it works this time, hinges clicking open for you. The metallic clang of gym equipment and grunts of burly men cloud the air, battling with the voice in your head for the title of most annoying sound. Always have to win, don't you? Couldn't just take a loss!

It's a flaw; one that you'll admit to, but one that you wouldn't change for the world. A little bit of drive is good, even if you do drive yourself up the wall more often than not.

Hood up, a pair of leggings and a sweater on, black high-tops tied in bows around your ankles, you look like death warmed up. You haven't showered yet, and there's still glitter caught in your lashline, but you've a point to prove.

And so, just shy of midday, your feet stomp heavily up the stairs, as thunderous as the look on your face.

It's not that you're actually mardy or moody at all—you're just hanging like an absolute bitch.

Whatever Jungkook puts in those tiny purple shots is lethal. Writes you off every single time.

Admittedly, you had gone a little harder last night knowing that you didn't have work the following day, but that's beyond the point. Normally your hangovers aren't so bad, especially not when you drink water throughout the night—which, thanks to Jungkook, you had been.

Jungkook doesn't notice your arrival until you roll down onto the bench behind him. You're on your side, legs tucked up, just like you had been in your bed when his message had arrived in your inbox.

He's in shorts—black, finishing midway down his thigh—and a big baggy t-shirt. On his feet, he's matching with you. Black Chucks. The only difference is that he ties his around the front. His bows are double knotted and little lopsided, the white trims on the soles scuffed and well worn. He's got history in his hi-tops, and you wonder how it compares to yours.

There's a girl in another city who matches him, and it isn't you. You don't have the tiny 'J' scrawled into the rubber of your soles like she does. He's scratched out her initial on his sole.

Takes a little longer to erase it from his other soul, mind you. It's still there. Only faintly, but enough to make him trip over himself from time to time. S'why he always double knots. Harder to fall, that way.

There's concentration on his face, features perplexed as the weight he lifts forces him to exert more energy than he's fully ready for. His teeth are bared, face tight, brows tied in a pretty knot between his eyes. You can see why Jiyeong is so territorial. He's not a bad-looking bloke. Quite handsome, actually.

He exhales as he brings the weight down, resting it on the ground, chest heaving ever so slightly before he turns to look at you. His brows are still furrowed, but his eyes are soft as his body gets more comfortable and settles into a state of rest.

A breathly laugh graces his lips as he reaches for the towel by your head. He pays no mind to the fact your crown is resting upon it, whipping it from beneath you to dab at the sweat gathering on the back of his neck.

"I said bright and early," he smirks, knowing that you must be hating everything about this interaction.

"It's before twelve," you mumble, eyes closed, knowing that watching his dimples form would only make your tummy feel all light and vomit-inducing. You're too hungover for anything other than neutral sensations. "It is bright and early."

"You're basically asleep."

"The bet was that I'd be here, Jeon," you remind him, voice a grumble as you shuffle deeper into your position. "Not that I'd be doing anything useful."

You've a point. It's not one that he can argue against, and so instead he just shrugs and picks his water bottle up from beside the bench. He tosses a little back into his mouth, the stream of water running from the plastic opening and into his mouth with such precision that you're sure he must be an asshole deep down.

You don't buy the nice guy front. Only assholes look that good doing the bare minimum. You'll get to the bottom of his assholeness eventually, but not now. Not when you're this grouchy, and everything feels a little biased.

"C'mon," he says as he knocks his head to the side. "Treadmill. Walk with me. You'll feel better for it."

"I think I'll die," you tell him with so much certainty he can't help but laugh at you.

Still, he stands in front of you and waits for you to join him. Knocks his knee against yours. Kicks your shoe with his own.

He's patient, his eyes soft as they look down at what a sorry state you are. There's something about the way his lips purse gently that makes him feel like a safe bet.

You've no regrets for tumbling out of bed and catching the subway to meet him at the gym. Your head is killing, granted, but it would have been killing you at home, too. At least this way you can feel like you've actually done something productive despite the hangover.

"Trust me," he insists, holding out his palm. "It really will help."

And so you take his hand, letting him pull you up. They warm, and a little clammy, but you don't mind.

When you're finally on your feet, your eyes are level with his chest. He's broad, chest well defined even beneath the shirt. You try not to think about the fact you've seen him shirtless, but you can smell the scent of his laundry detergent, and it adds a whole new element to the enigma the Jeon Jungkook is. Looking at him, you'd imagine a scent of musk - something woody, maybe. Instead, he smells like fresh blooms, sweet peas under summer sun.

You don't let yourself linger for too long, fearful of him reading into the way you can't seem to keep your eyes off him. He's just new. Something shiny. Fresh. Excitement amongst the mundane of a city you've grown tired of.

He reaches down to pick up your half-empty coffee and takes a sip as he begins to walk away. "Tastes like shit."

You pull it back from him, and nudge his side. "Feels like crack cocaine. The Purple Starfuckers, man... they actually kill me."

"You're welcome."

Small talk peppers the walk down the steps—How are your friends? Get home alright? How was Jimin feeling in the morning? How long do you have to stay after closing time?—and flitters around the pair of you as you set your inclines. His is noticeably higher than yours, but you're not here to work out. You're here to win a bet—of which he keeps reminding you that you lost, and that you are, in fact, a loser.

You just tell him to fuck offin return.

He never does. Just smiles, beams all wide, teeth on display, nose a little scrunched, and says, "Sounds like something a loser would say."

Jungkook is easy to be around. His company, his humour, the anecdotes he tells. They're delivered freely, revealed without pressure. No diamonds are being formed, but there's enough of them in your eyes when you laugh with him, regardless.

You reduce the ease of your interactions to your perceived lack of expectations he has of you.

There's security that comes with fucking someone's housemate. You're no longer a viable sexual conquest, and therefore you don't have to worry about an ulterior motive for your exchanges with Jungkook. Jimin's been there, done that.

For Jungkook to be hanging out with you, you think he must actually like your company. It's mutual. Reciprocal. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

There's a clear line drawn in the sand between the two of you, as you walk forward on separate treadmills. He matches your speed—slow and lethargic—despite his marginally higher incline, before offering you his water.

You hold up your coffee, but he shakes his head. "It'll dehydrate you."

You'd left in such a rush (and without any intent on actually working out) so had neglected to bring any water with you. Never mind the fact you stopped by the coffee place inside the subway station. Force of habit.

You're chronically dehydrated as it is. Danbi has to remind you that you need water, not just iced americanos to get you through the day. Sometimes you listen. More often than not, you don't.

"Sure?" you ask, aware that you don't really know each other well enough to be sharing drinks yet (despite the fact he'd already helped himself to your coffee) but he just nods. Doesn't really see it as a big deal.

"Don't backwash," he tells you as you're mid-sip, and it almost makes you choke the water straight back into the bottle. You refrain, swallowing it down, coughing slightly as you recover from your shock.

"Christ. Too late," you joke as you pass it back, before he makes some crude remark about how you've basically kissed now, and that 'you can't have your way' with both him and Jimin.

"Fuck off," you laugh. "For starters, Jimin and I aren't like, a thing. It was a one-time hook-up."

"Sure."

"Well, I mean, he tried last night," you shrug, looking up to the mirror ahead, finding Jungkook's dark eyes already on you.

He doesn't look away as he says, "he did?"

"You served us, Jungkook," you remind him. Your memories of last night are far clearer than they were of the night you'd actually hooked up with Jimin. "He wasn't getting me drinks just to be kind."

"You don't know that," Jungkook pouts, though he's not sure why. He knows Jimin. He was definitely trying to get laid, but he's also his best friend, so he says, "He's a good guy."

"I don't doubt that," you agree, not wanting it to appear as if you're being over-critical of Jimin. You're the one who fucked him, after all. He's incredibly attractive, and you know that many people would consider themselves lucky to end their night with him, but you've fucked handsome men before. It doesn't really couldn't for all that much.

A fuck is just a fuck.

What we do in the dark has no bearing on who we are in the light of day.

"Sounds like you do," he assesses, but you dismiss it.

"Sounds like you're reading into it a little too much," you banter back, slowly learning that Jungkook likes to do that. He overanalyses. You do quite the opposite.

Jimin could have a noble peace prize for all you care. Doesn't mean you've any interest in fucking him again.

The conversation dwindles on, you gradually upping the pace of your treadmill to the point where Jungkook might consider it a brisk walk (though you'd argue it's a jog).

He's kind in the way he takes a second to think before he speaks, conscious of letting you finish your sentences, and also wanting to be sure of the words he articulates. Thoughtful. Mild-mannered. Nice, but not in a way that boring. Nice, in a way that feels safe.

By the time your legs begin to ache, the treadmills have been running for over forty-five minutes.

You've been too busy guessing the conversations between other strangers in the gym. Who they are; where they're going after their sessions. What they'd had for breakfast (and for some reason, Jungkook would guess 'egg whites' without fail for every single person) and what they'd be having for dinner.

He mimics their voices, and you laugh along, adding a narrative. So many lives have been lived by the people around you, and not a single one you get even remotely correct.

There's a burly man, bearded and broad, with a petite girl hanging on every word he says towards the far corner, and you decide that they're a couple.

Jungkook thinks they're siblings.

Makes it a little awkward when the guy starts squeezing the girl's ass mid-squat.

"Yep, no, maybe you're right," he cringes, face scrunching up, lip ring almost disappearing into his mouth as he does so. Unfortunately, he does also then begin to debate the prospect of them maybe being stepsiblings, at which point you threaten to push him off his treadmill.

"You watch too much porn," you tell him, and he can't even argue against it.

It's been a little while since his last situationship ended, and he's been avoiding bedding anyone new like the plague. Been keeping girls he thinks he could grow to like at arm's length. Safer that way.

"I watch a perfectly healthy amount of porn," he scoffs, but then bunches his face up, clearly not proud of himself for making such a declaration. He chooses to not share the fact that he and Jimin split a VPN bill for that purpose exactly.

You laugh with him, the topic moving along to the PG shows he watches instead, the Netflix shows you're both hooked on, and what you'd each chosen for your Vecna song (which also leads to him helplessly defending all of his Spotify playlists from your gruelling judgement ( Justin Bieber defined a generation and I won't listen to you talk shit about him.... And fuck off, Mad at Disney is cute! Cute! I'm never showing you my Spotify ever again. EVER.))

He mirrors you as you slow the pace of your treadmill, looking over to you after checking the time on the clock - 58:23. Longer than he'd expected you'd last. "Done?"

"Done," you nod.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like death?"

"Still?"

"Still," you nod. "Need a Vita500 and a nap."

"There's CU round the corner," he notes. "I'm now about to leave anyways. I'll come with you. You can get your vitamins, I'm gonna grab something to eat."

You nod, not minding in the slightest—but he mentioned food, and your stomach begins to grumble like King Kong atop the Empire State.

"Would die for convenience store ramyeon," you sigh, musing over one of the finest delicacies in life. Nothing beats instant jjajangmyeon, not even a home-cooked meal.

"Wanna grab some?" Jungkook asks a little mindlessly, not thinking much of the offer. "I'll eat with you."

And so he does. The comfort born in the confines of the gym is nurtured over cheap food and even cheaper shots at one another in the form of banter. He's a lot of fun, you think. It's a shame he's always stuck behind the bar and never able to let loose with you in the club.

He texts you midweek to let you know he can put you on the club guest list, if you want. Save paying entry and queuing. You'd be mad to say no - and so you spend the next few days convincing your friends that another night out is a good idea.

It's not. Hoseok somehow ends the night without his shoes, and you wake up with an ache in your lower back from a guy who'd tried to be all sexy in his bedroom last night, failing miserably. Human bodies aren't supposed to bend in the way he insisted on positioning you in.

You ignore the slight burn as you head to the gym though, ready to pretend like Jungkook's the bane of your life once more.

A routine is forming.

What started as a bet becomes a weekend guarantee: you will get shitfaced at Dionysus on a Saturday, and then you will chat shit with Jungkook on the treadmills for the duration of your Sunday morning.

He never lets you off the machines until the scowl that you inevitably arrive with transforms into a subtle smile. Some weeks it's quicker than others, but one thing is for certain; your scowl will always fade.

By week three, he's already by the treadmills when you arrive.

"No napping today," he teases with a soft smile, making light of the way you always curl up on the bench behind him as he does his final few reps. He's already done with them. Got to the gym fifteen minutes early to make sure he would be.

"Kook," you groan, dragging your feet a little and yet still heading in his direction towards the cardio area.

The way his body swings around to look at you, a single brow raised, is like something out of a kid's cartoon. He's so animated and full of energy that it's hard to believe he was at work until five that morning. "What did you just call me?"

"Shut up," you mumble, crossing your legs and sitting down on the treadmill belt. It's quiet—this time of day is never busy—so you don't feel bad for hogging a machine that no one would be using regardless. "Everyone calls you that."

He hops up on his treadmill and sets an incline, while you let your body flop down on yours.

"You're not everyone."

"Be impossible to be everyone," you mumble, eyes closed, body shuffling into a more comfortable position - until the treadmill jolts, moving ever so slowly beneath you. The way you get up is akin to a cat being confronted with a cucumber, a small yelp leaving your lips. "Jesus, Jungkook!"

He's smirking, as if hadn't been tampering with the buttons, shrugging. "Started by itself."

"You could have killed me."

"What a shame that would have been." He grins at you like a kid who just found a stash of candy. "C'mon! Up you get. I've got places to be. A life to live."

You scoff as you begin to walk forward, lowering the incline that he'd set it to. "You? A life? Seems unlikely."

"You know, you're incredibly hard to like," he assures you. You catch the challenge of his gaze in the mirror and simply shrug.

"Yet here you are, still trying to be my friend."

"Can't shake you off."

"You force me to come."

"I do no such thing."

"Ohhhh, disco baaaaall," you begin to imitate him, bringing your clasped hands to your heart as if you really are begging. You sound nothing like him, but it's kind of deliberate. The more ridiculous you sound, the more he'll laugh. "Pwetty pwease come to the gym and keep me company."

"I don't talk like that," he laughs at how whiney you sound. "And fuck off, I've never said that."

"So you don't mind if I leave?"

His hand reaches over and hooks into the hood of your sweater, as if you're a dog on a leash. His grip is tight. Ain't no way you're going nowhere.

"No, you're not allowed," he says sternly, but there's a smile on his face, voice dulcet as the command rolls off his tongue and sinks into your ear. "I'll get bored."

"See!" You laugh, and pay no notice to the fact his hand stays with an iron grip on the fabric of your sweater even after the joke has been made. He keeps it there.

"It's either I have you keep me company, or Jimin keep me company," he says with a shrug. "I've always got a second choice."

"Aw, but I'm your first choice. How cute."

"My god, I hate you," he says as he finally drops his grip on your hoodie, nudging your shoulder as you walk. He busies his hand, tampering with his incline, trying to make it seem like the touch was casual. Nothing to read into.

It's a debate the pair of you are able to have for hours; who hates who more, who hated who first, who's gonna hate who for longer.

It's not flirting as such, but it is a ruse. You deflect the fact that you actually really enjoy each other's company, using hatred as a measure of just how much you like one another. It's all very juvenile.

He tells you he hates you when you steal half of the cheese he buys for his instant ramyeon after the gym, and you tell him that you hate him every single time you show up at the gym. It's a win-win.

By the time week four comes around, you're surprised to find yourself considering signing up for another month.

You rarely use your membership - once a week, to be precise, and only for about an hour at a time. It does give you a luxury of freedom, though. Chances are you'll be able to find Jungkook there, no matter what time of day it is.

You'd swung by one evening that week after work just to show him the painting someone did of breadfish, knowing that he'd be the only other person in the city who remembered something so ridiculous.

He'd been deadlifting at the time, a thick leather belt cinching the baggy shirt he'd been wearing, stopping you quite suddenly in your tracks.

Hands covered in paint, hair up, a pencil still tucked behind your ear, you're the most 'you' he thinks he's ever seen you.

Sure, he's seen you with your makeup all smudged after a night out, and he's seen you after far too many drinks deep, but he's never really had the luxury of a totally sober 'you'. The 'you' that other people get to indulge in.

The glitter on your lids is a little more subtle than he's used to—it's thinner, finer, a little pink in its hue—but still prettily in place. Sparkling under the harsh gym bulbs. It's nice to know you're a disco even in the daylight.

He finds himself holding the bar he's lifting for a little longer than expected. His eyes are on yours in the mirror. You've paused by the top of the stairs, eyes on his.

It had been the shock of how bloody tiny his waist is that had startled you first, the look in his eyes, second.

And it's that second surprise—a pleasant one—which stops you from doing anything else but staring. He's got car crash eyes, and you can't help but watch the disaster of the wreckage burn.

You can't even really take in the rest of his face, and it's a shame, for he's a sight to behold; lips ajar, the freckle beneath them covered by the shadow of his pout, brows furrowing together slowly.

The longer he looks at you, the more strained his expression becomes - until his eyes close, teeth clenching, body holding the weight until he can't support it for much longer. It drops, his body shaking as his chest heaves, the sound shattering the tension between the pair of you.

You feel bad for intruding; as if you've seen him in a way you were never supposed to. It's not like you walked in on him showering or anything as intimate as that, but it's been a while since a man has looked at you like, well, that.

Desire, passion? Sure, whatever. They'd looked at you with those in their eyes.

But Jungkook hadn't been looking at you with either of those wants. At least, not a want for you.

He'd been pushing himself. Proving himself.

And while he hadn't been proving himself to you, you're reminded why you don't fuck anyone face-to-face these days. Eye-contact. It's too much. Gets you all hot and bothered.

And so while his chest heaves, eyes looking you up and down, a little unsure of what the fuck just happened, you do the only thing you can: distract him.

Behind your back is the breadfish canvas, so you bring it around, hold it in the air and smile as brightly as you possibly can. "Please tell me you know what this is."

He takes a second. Tilts his head, and then realises exactly what it's meant to be - a loaf of bread with a fish head and tail tacked onto the end. He's not seen it since middle school. Was the only one of his friends who found it fucking hilarious - and the way you're beaming makes him think that you were probably just as strange as he was, growing up.

Your mutual childhood strangeness is proven right. Transcends in adulthood, apparently. He sends you voice notes of him singing the breadfish song on loop for three days straight. You block him on 4 separate occasions.

Doesn't stop him from making sure the DJ plays the song on Saturday night. He'll take the blocking if it means he gets to see your smile just as bright as your disco-ball eyes.

When Sunday comes, the look on Jungkook's face as you tell him your membership is due to expire is hard to read.

His eyes, for once, don't give much away.

He's forbearing as he says, "You can't use your memberships expiring as an excuse not to hang out anymore. I'll still force you on hangover walks."

His stoicism fades as he tries to hide a smile when you ask him to wait by the door of the gym lobby. You renew your membership. Just for another month. Just enough to keep him happy.

And so the routine continues. Saturday nights are reserved for Dionysus; Sunday mornings for the boy from behind the bar.

There's normally a gap of five or so hours between you saying goodbye at the club and hello at the gym.

Sometimes you go home from Dionysus with Hoseok and Danbi.

Other times, you end up in an apartment that's unfamiliar, with a man who's equally as unknown.

They're always nice enough.

Never nice enough to make you wanna stay the night.

On one occasion, you end up going home with another woman, instead. It's not unheard of, for you, just harder to come by. Your first experiences had been with women, and your dating history is littered with as many women as it is men. You don't subscribe to the idea of sexuality being a linear thing, far more content with just going with who feels right, not what feels right.

Naively, you'd put her on a pedestal, thinking you'd finally get a decent lay—but a drunk shag is a drunk shag. You still ended up leaving as soon as you could, orgasm not quite reached.

At this point, you figure it's a mental block. You never used to have this issue, but you also used to only fuck people you loved.

When the people you loved began to fuck you over, things changed.

You've too many rules now. Too many restrictions on yourself. You can never fully relax and actually enjoy sex for what it is.

The rules are never set in stone, but they always follow the same pattern.

Don't let yourself be vulnerable. Don't get fully naked. No kissing during sex. Absolutely no face-to-face fucking. Taken from behind, or not at all. You'll give oral, but the second some tries to reciprocate, you move it along.

How can you enjoy intimacy with another person when you won't let yourself be intimate?

There are just too many things that remind you still of him; things that will hurt your heart more than it already does when someone else takes his place.

And so sex isn't really sex anymore. It's a tool.

You use it to pretend like you're over everything that happened with your ex; as if you're in control of a situation that he created.

And so that's why Saturday nights are reserved for Dionysus: they're filling the space of date night. Sunday mornings in the gym? Filling the space of lazy morning fucks and brunch down by the lake near Hoseok's place.

Being busy with the gym stops you from making 11:11 wishes for him to show up at your door, and the nights in Dionysus stop you from looking for shooting stars to wish upon instead.

Instant noodles with a guy you barely know don't quite manage to make you forget about eggs benedict with the man you thought you might one day marry, but hey - it's something at least.

On the nights that Jungkook knows you don't go straight home, he checks up on you; will text when his shift is up, again when he gets home, and one final time when he wakes up. He doesn't care for the semantics that come with double messaging. He isn't trying to impress you.

He knows what you get up to in the dark. What you do is your prerogative. He's more concerned about the lack of trust and faith he has in the people you do it with. Despite this, not once does he berate you for it.

Even Hoseok's made a dumb remark here and there about the fact you're 'getting around', but if Jungkook's thought similar things, he doesn't let you know it. He's a good friend. One that you're lucky to have. Thank God you fucked his flatmate and not him, instead.

The illusion of you has slipped by this point, for Jungkook. He knows you too well to toy with what-ifs.

You feel secure in the fact he's not trying to get into your pants; a rarity for dudes these days.

Even Jimin took the hint after you turned him down, and has become a welcome addition to your nights out. He's fun to flirt with, but he knows nothing will happen, so he never pushes it too far - but is also happy to be your cover when another bloke is getting too touchy with you for your liking. He's been your 'boyfriend' a grand total of three times, now - only ever for a night.

You're not too familiar with Jungkook's other friends yet, but you sometimes get in on a round of shots with them. There are four usual suspects: Jimin, Taehyung, Namjoon and Yoongi. All handsome, all perfectly nice. None of them stick to you like glue, though. Not Jungkook did.

Hoseok and Danbi have followed your lead, and consider the boys casual acquaintances; drinking partners for when they happen to be at the bar at the same time.

A dog walker by profession, Danbi always finds herself flirting with Taehyung, who tries his hardest to get a discount on her services. She always refuses.

Jungkook and Yeonjun have a running bet going to see how long it takes until he's paying full price, just for an excuse to see her outside of a club setting. They've had to reset the bet twice, because Danbi might just be the most stubborn woman to have ever graced the planet.

Summer is spent in a technicolour haze of Purple Starfuckers, club lights, unorthodox gym routines and enough glitter to open a craft shop.

Jungkook doesn't quite know how, but he's always finding flecks of the metallic warpaint on his gym gear. Has a little laugh to himself whenever he does the laundry. Mutters, "Fucking Disco Ball."

It's monsoon season by the time Hoseok and Danbi make their first appearance at the club without you.

He texts you—boo, you whore—and waits in the backroom of the bar until he sees a reply come through.

Busy tonight, your reply reads. It feels a little cold, but you don't mean for it to be. You're just a rush, and Jungkook nagging you is the last thing you need.

JK: Busy doing what?

You: none of your business x

Despite the kiss you end your sentence with (he can hear the way you say 'mwah' the same way you do whenever you know you're being a little cheeky), it still feels... off.

JK: Oddly defensive.

You: i'm always defensive :)

You: lemme know when you get home safe

It's a simple role reversal, but Jungkook isn't sure what to make of it. He's normally the one making sure you get home safe. Not the other way around. It's not a 'what-if' scenario that he's run through in his head before. He doesn't like it.

He likes being depended on. Has gotten used to you depending on him.

Pushing it to the back of his mind, he makes orders without much thought, too busy letting himself indulge in what-ifs. It's been a while since he's thought of any regarding you, but he's consumed by them, now. Where you are, who you're with. Why Danbi and Hoseok won't give him a straight answer when he asks. They say it's not their business, but the way Danbi gives Hoseok a grimace whenever the topic is mentioned would suggest she doesn't approve.

It's probably why you haven't told him. He wonders how bad it must be. Secrets aren't something really kept between the pair of you.

There are things he hasn't told you - parts of his past he'd rather keep buried - but he doesn't actively hide himself from you. He thought you did the same.

Apparently not.

He arrives home with no new message from you. It's five thirty, and even though he's a little pissed with the sudden change in your attitude towards him, he can't bring himself to take it out on you.

JK: I'm home, asshole.

JK: Dionysus ain't the same without a disco ball.

Tossing his phone down onto his sheets, Jungkook stares up at his ceiling. There's never been a complicated weight to your friendship, but he's also never been in the dark before.

Above him, origami birds dance in the light breeze coming from his aircon unit.

There's a dozen strung up from his paper folding phase six months ago, when he was trying to get his mind off of the girl whose initial had been scratched out of the soles of his shoes. Thought that if she came back, she'd find the birds endearing.

Kept them up just in case. Now, he just keeps them up as a reminder: You've gotta let wild birds fly away. Can't keep them caged up.

And it's funny, cause the strings the birds hang from feel like a cage for his thoughts, now. They get tangled in the spokes, your name wrapping around the bars. He can't keep you in a cage, either.

Can't expect you to be as you always have been with him, just because it's the 'norm'. Can't expect you not to have a life without him.

You: does your apartment need one?

JK: A disco ball? Don't think so?

Truthfully, he thinks a little disco ball would be fitting strung up with all of his birds.

You: gaaawd, ur such a boy

You: i'm asking if i can come over :(

He tries not to read into the unhappy face, but it has him sitting up, replying just as quickly as his heart is beating. There's something amiss, and he doesn't like it.

JK: Oh. Now?

You: no, next week

You: yes now, doofus

JK: It's 5am?

He doesn't know why he's being like this. Difficult. Perhaps he is a bit bitter. Petty.

You: this isn't a booty call lmao, chill out

You: i'll be there in 15

JK: Do I get a choice?

He's smiling as he sends the message, and hopes you'll read it in the tone he intends. He's bantering, trying to deflect from the heaviness he can feel in your text thread.

He's relieved when you reply just how he hoped you would.

You: no x

JK: See you in 15, db x

minors dni | wattpad | series masterlist |

37 notes · View notes

13eyond13 · 4 months

Note

Hi...Can I ask your top 3 favorite characters from Nana? And why you loved them? And your top 5 favorite moments from the series? Thanks if you want to answer....

Hi hi!! I would LOVE to try to talk about this series for a bit, but PLEASE keep in mind I'm still only just finished volume 7 / chapter 24 (I am currently waiting in line to read volume 8 at my library! But I might get impatient and just try to find the chapters online too)... MY TOP 3 FAVE NANA CHARACTERS (SO FAR) 1. NANA KOMATSU / NANA 1 / "HACHI": OMG I love Nana 1 to death hahahaha. She literally makes me lol every single volume with her thoughts and decisions and interactions with everyone else, and it's just the most fun in the series to be inside her brain and following along with her relationships and emotional roller-coasters and little life lessons and anxieties and pains and hopes and dreams. She's an awesome character to me for being flawed and complex and selfish and immature yet still very likable and oddly tough and brave and sweet as pie at the same time. I think seeing the growth she's having as a person over the series is definitely the main draw for me, and watching her try to figure out her feelings for everybody and her place in the world and how to become the type of person that contains all the personality traits she's always admiring around her - and how to fill that void she feels of never completely erasing the loneliness inside or being perfectly synced up with the people she's trying to form a deeper connection with.

2. NANA OSAKI / NANA 2:

She's mysterious, she's proud, she's tough, she's badass, she's funny and sensible and kind! I love the more grown-up and emotionally reserved vibe she has in comparison to Nana 1, which totally makes sense considering her harder childhood and how self-reliant she always had to be. Her casual warmth with Hachi is endearing and her less obviously expressive and highly independent yet still emotionally intense personality is very relatable to me. It's the most fun to see Hachi reacting to Nana 2 to me I think, because Nana 2 is more closed off and a bit more afraid of exploring her feelings unabashedly than Nana 1. But she's by far my other fave in the series, and of course the heart of the whole thing is the very ambiguously devoted relationship between the 2 Nanas for me!

3. ???? I don't think I have a third main fave character in the story yet??

At the beginning of the manga I quite liked Shoji and Junko, but as the series is progressing it seems like they both got written out of the plot almost entirely. I liked Junko for always keeping it real with Nana and caring about her in a tough love sort of way, though she did for sure just seem a bit like the "voice of reason" character for the more ridiculous Nana to bounce off of whenever she was in a bind... I liked Shoji because he seems like a regular kid instead of some idealistic fictional love interest hunk - his reactions to Nana K. were pretty relatable to me, and their romantic interactions were cute and made me laugh and also cringe with sympathy at times (like when it was so awkward when Nana first moved to Tokyo too and they were still trying to readjust to being around each other more - I remember similar things happening to me whenever I had been long-distance in a relationship for a summer and and then suddenly near my partner again at some time). Even in the part where he starts developing feelings for Sachiko and sneakily cheating on Nana, I always felt he behaved pretty understandably and wasn't a horrible person so much as just a conflicted and young and immature one who wasn't in the right relationship when he was with Nana, maybe (though admittedly I wasn't that upset that he wasn't being featured in the story more after that, because that would probably get on my nerves). Currently I have just finished volume 7, and right now I am finding I don't feel a super strong connection to any of the other characters too much other than Nana 1 and Nana 2? The other guys in Blast are just okay to me, I don't have SUPER strong feelings about Nana getting together with Nobu (in fact I find him a little bit annoying at times - I agree with Shin that he "has some unrealistic ideas about women" and idealizes Nana too much - Yasu is chill and nice and wise, but a bit TOO chill and reserved to be super interesting to me). The members of Trapnest are also just okay to me? Ren bores me a little bit (maybe because I just would rather be reading about Nana 2 hanging out with Nana 1 than with him)... Reira is hard for me to form ANY opinions about other than eww, it's weird that she's sleeping with Shin, Takumi is a selfish yet possessive jerk and only thinking about himself, and I always forget the other one (Naoki?) even exists...

I WILL say that the little Nana 2 fangirl Misato is extremely cute and I'm always happy when she's on the page, hahaha. Her shameless devotion to Nana 2 and her politeness and extreme savviness about the music industry are just fun for me to read (as was Hachi's initial jealousy toward her, but I'm glad she managed to also eventually get over that)! --

MY TOP 5 FAVE NANA MOMENTS (SO FAR): Forgive me if these moments are completely arbitrary and sort of dumb picks, because I feel like I'm forgetting so much of the story from the previous volumes already, and I'm still only 1/3 of the way through the whole thing?? But here are ones that stood out to me whenever I was racking my brain: 5. Whenever Nana forces Shoji to let her sleep in his hotel room, then awkwardly sings him to sleep, and he's like: "YOU DON'T HAVE TO SING" hahaha...

my reaction to that was basically Junko's reaction:

4. Whenever Nana 2 starts getting jealous and confused about Hachi hooking up with Takumi I was like OHOHOH, HOW THE TURNS TABLE.... I think it's REALLY hard for Nana 2 to admit stuff like feeling vulnerable or jealous or possessive over Nana 1 at this point, and seeing her realize "heeyyyy maybe I want her attention and devotion a little more than I thought and was taking it for granted a bit"... that was a very feelsy little part! 3. Whenever Hachi is getting jealous about Nana 2's cute little fangirl and having super mean petty thoughts about her hahahah omg the most relatable thing of life! 2. When Nana 2 goes to Nobu after he first starts dating Hachi and is like: "I'M USING YOU TO KEEP NANA 1 IN MY LIFE FOREVER, SO DON'T MESS THIS UP!" OMG?? Fellas is it gay to keep your girl roomie nearby by throwing guys at her that are entrenched in your social circle and also more socially acceptable for her to date? When I say my heart skipped a beat at that moment!! And it just happened in the manga super recently, so who knows where things are going to go from here?

1. When Hachi is having so many gay thoughts about Nana 2 that she's like "AHHH THIS IS TOO GAY I NEED TO GET ANOTHER BOYFRIEND!!!!" Boy did I laugh out loud at the cognitive dissonance (and find it super relatable to younger me and my own panicking about maybe not being entirely straight thoughts? of course)...

#nana #nana spoilers #ask #anon #p #13readsmanga #thank you for asking!

7 notes · View notes

softpine · 2 years

Note

how in depth do you edit your story posts? would you say reshade does a lot of it or do you go in and add details a lot? how long does it take? i’m doing a story myself and i want to keep telling it but the long editing process sets me back and can be de motivating sometimes and i’m just wondering if you have any tips on cutting it down or speeding the process up?

oh i totally know what you mean – editing is by far my LEAST favorite part of the process, so i do anything i can do to speed it up. i would say reshade does about 60% of the work, and then i run my own personal action in photoshop which does another 20% of the work (basically just resize, smart sharpen, denoise, and a very basic color grade to help boost skintones). the rest is just small details that vary from picture to picture. landscape pictures can take me less than 2 minutes to edit, whereas shots with multiple sims can take me upwards of 30 minutes because i'm a freak about using the liquify tool to smooth out sharp edges, redrawing stuff to get rid of clipping, fixing skin banding by hand, etc. the rest is just using various blurs (usually iris blur), and applying a final color grade / hue adjustments. LITERALLY the devil is in the details 😭

so now that i've complained for ages, here are my tips on speeding things up fjksjd

1. put all your reshade effects on a toggle, and take multiple screenshots with the effects on/off. ESPECIALLY if you have a wide variety of skintones. for example, finn is pale as fuck and bloom makes him look like.... well, a ghost:

so i take one pic WITH bloom:

one without:

and then i layer them in photoshop and use a soft eraser at a lower opacity (depends on the pic) to erase some of the bloom on his face. this means i never have to mess with my bloom settings in-game for every single picture i take. i do the same thing for dof or mxao if they’re giving me trouble. one pic on, one pic off, layer them, and erase.

2. create your own action and/or psd! there are tons of tutorials out there. whichever effects you find yourself using on a regular basis, combine them all in one to save you from doing boring shit over and over :’) i don’t find it super helpful to use other people’s actions, because everyone has a different style, but if you’re new to photoshop, it might be nice to download some actions just to try new things out!

3. this tip kinda sucks because i know most people on simblr don’t have a l*gal copy of photoshop (no shade, i p*rated for literally 10 years lmao and i only got the real copy bc it was free through my mom’s work) but the newest version of photoshop has sooo many cool effects. sky replacement (my beloved), neural filters (depth blur is SO good now, the edges are crisp as hell. you could probably get rid of dof in reshade altogether now), and camera raw filter (basically a one-stop-shop for every adjustment you may need, and has the ability to save presets in the same way you would use a psd). all of these save me so much time. i would be happy to do a more in-depth tutorial on this stuff if you’re interested, but like i said, i know most people don’t have access to these :(

EDIT: check the replies for a link that may help you out :)

4. simply edit less. sometimes i have to remind myself that no one will be zooming up into my sim’s hand to see if their ring has some clipping issues. you are your own worst enemy and of course you’ll notice every single flaw, but most other people won’t. if the only way you can realistically and feasibly tell your story is to edit less (or not edit at all) then so be it!! that’s okay!! do whatever you can do to lessen your stress 💖

#hope this helps a little!!#good luck bby!!#asks #anonymous #nonsims #brandi answers

64 notes · View notes

zainclaw · 3 years

Note

Hello. I am a new symbrock shipper and i really appreciate your posts of the excerpts from the comics. But i was wondering which part of the comic people said the writer (the cates one) erased some kind of part about the eddie & venom? It gets me curious somehow and was wondering if you knew about this.

...I’ve actually been expecting someone to ask me about this, sooner or later. Kinda been dreading it, tbh XD But here goes.

(This is quite a long and serious answer, and I totally get if not everyone wanna read this, but as more and more people are becoming interested in the Venom comics, I do think this is an important thing to address.)

This is also a conversation about fandom.

*deep breath*

First of all. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, and just like some people might be upset with the writers of a tv-show when things take a turn they don't agree with, some people are upset with the changes Donny Cates did when he took over the Venom comics after Mike Costa. Yes.

But here’s the thing:

The Venom comics have had many writers (and artists) over the years. I mean, jesus christ, the Venom symbiote’s very first appearance was back in 1988. That’s over 30 fucking years ago, people. At this point, I don’t think it’s realistic to expect the feel of the story to be the same under every single writer that comes on. I just don’t.

In 1996 Len Kaminski gave us Eddie and his symbiote holding hands and giving each other chocolate gifts with love hearts and the line “it’s not human, but it’s given me things no girlfriend ever could” in The Hunger. Then, 20 years later, in 2017-2018, we had Mike Costa give us Eddie calling the symbiote ‘my love’ and ‘dear’ and ‘darling’ and refer to their partnership as a relationship and finally made them have a baby together in First Host.

(I strongly recommend using my masterlist of comics excerpts as a timeline here to understand what the hell I’m talking about.)

Sure, Cates hasn’t had Eddie calling the symbiote ‘my love’ or ‘darling’ since he took over. I guess you could say he “removed” that. Do I miss that part? Yeah. Of course. But as far as I know, no one had Eddie and the symbiote hold hands again in the 20 years following The Hunger, either. Different writers have told different stories, chose to focus on different things.

Cates chose to go down a very angsty route. To, for example, bring back the topic of the Venom symbiote having a past with Flash Thompson, of sometimes wanting to be with him more than Eddie, and feeling torn about who to choose, and Eddie’s pain and jealousy over that. This is something Mike Costa barely touched on during his run. Costa wanted domestic bliss, so that’s what he did. But that doesn’t remove past canon. Not for him, or anyone else.

I’ve said this before - have basically warned people who’ve come to me saying they wanna start reading the comics because of my excerpts - but the comics are fucking angsty. There’s a reason I’ve made a point of posting Symbrock highlights from the comics, rather than just say “read the comics, they’re just never-ending domestic Symbrock bliss” because they’re not.

Eddie Brock is not a happy man, and his relationship with the Venom symbiote has been obsessive, possessive and unhealthy at times. They have grown a lot and come a long way over the years, but this has always been a part of their canon. Eddie’s fear of being alone, of being the symbiote’s second choice.

This side of them is part of why I, personally, find their relationship so intriguing. How they can’t stay away from each other, even though they're both so flawed and not always good “people”, and don’t really know how to keep their relationship healthy.

And I think Cates must have felt the same way, because he’s chose to dive into Eddie as his own person. He’s made Eddie face his demons, his past, deal with his fear of being alone and do a lot of growing in ways I haven’t seen him do in any previous comics. He wanted to tell the story of Eddie Brock, to perhaps let him become a better person than he was, in order to make the relationship between him and the Venom symbiote better. And in my personal opinion, he’s doing a great job of that.

I’m very much against the “fandom hive mind” thing, and the thought of new people entering the Venom/Symbrock fandom and simply adopting the “we hate Donny Cates, he ruined the comics” mentality because they see so many other shippers feel that way, is so upsetting to me. I don’t like how entitled fans can become at times.

(I don’t know how many people who still follow me from my Teen Wolf days, but, damn, I’m embarrassed about a lot of stuff that went down between that fandom and the show runners/actors. It was a silly teenage show on MTV, and yet so many adults (myself included) thought they should have a say in where the story went, and not. It took me a long time to realize that, but there it is.)

Donny Cates did NOT deserve the hate he got from so many Symbrock shippers back in 2018. He’s NOT unfaithful to the story of Venom as a whole, and has NOT ignored previous canon. He openly spoke to and supported the Symbrock shippers on Twitter, before they tore him to pieces for not being Mike Costa. For, in their opinion, completely ignoring the loving nature of their relationship.

But like?

Cates is the one who gave us the Venom symbiote’s first “I love you, Eddie”. Cates is the one who gave us Eddie getting phantom limb syndrome from being apart from the symbiote. Cates is the only one, in my opinion, who’s given us SO many beautifully heartbreaking inner dialogues from Eddie like that about love and loss and longing, all referring to the Venom symbiote. Cates is the one who gave us the exchange “You found me” / “Always” that I’m still crying about.

My point being: I don’t think it’s fair at all to say that Cates has ignored the intimate relationship between Eddie and the symbiote. Because he hasn’t.

And it wouldn’t surprise me if, one day, when the Venom comics get a writer who actually doesn’t treat Eddie and the symbiote like romantic partners, people will look back on previous runs and say “wow I miss what Cates did.”

But,

I’m not here to convince anyone that Cates’ run is better than, or even as good as, Costa’s. I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to love every Venom comic that’s come out in the past 30 years written by several different writers. That’s unrealistic. You’re allowed to have a favorite Venom writer. You’re allowed to think that where Mike Costa’s comics ended, Eddie and the Venom symbiote’s story ended, for you. You’re also allowed to, like me, enjoy the angsty and slow burn story currently being told by Donny Cates.

You don’t have to hate Cates just because you’re a Symbrock shipper.

That’s all I wanted to say, more or less.

#symbrock #venom #idk how to tag #mike costa #donny cates #venom comics #venom comic #eddie brock

332 notes · View notes

extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years

Text

falling.

pairing: carter baizen x reader

warnings: angst, cheating (sorta?)

part 1 / part 2

and it kills me 'cause i know we've run out of things we can say. what am i now? what am i now? what if i'm someone i don't want around? i'm falling again, i'm falling again, i'm falling. what if i'm down? what if i’m out? what if i'm someone you won't talk about? i'm falling again, i'm falling again, i'm falling and i get the feeling that you'll never need me again ...

Stay away from me. I don’t want to see your face.

Those words were burned and scarred onto his mind and no matter how much he drank, how much he smoked, how much he slept, he could still hear her voice echoing those same words which hit him like daggers. She’d meant those words, he knew her well enough to know when she meant something and she had meant every single letter of every single word she had muttered. He couldn’t escape them and the worse thing was, he couldn’t escape her face. He hadn’t seen her in the last three months but he couldn’t forget the look on her face, the look of disappointment and hurt. He was used to disappointing his family, that’s all he could do but he’d never disappointed her before. She’d been upset at him, he’d been upset at her but they’d never been disappointed at each other. They’d always been there for each other but now she was just gone and he daren’t even try approaching her. He knew her threats weren’t empty and he knew way too well not to mess with Y/N. She was sweet but at the end of the day she was a Vanderbilt heiress and if you got on her bad side, you could easily see it. Yet, that didn’t mean he didn’t miss her.

How could he not when she had been around since the very moment they were introduced for each other? He couldn’t really explain what they were and he didn’t want to dwell on it, he’d rather think to himself that she was gone rather than admit he was the one responsible for it. After all, wasn’t that what he always did? Run away from his problems and avoiding them, instead creating even more issues. It was easier after all. However, what he did not expect was to find her doing the exact same and he couldn’t help but admit how angry he was to see her with someone else. At Cotillion, with Chuck, it was easy to know it was nothing; after all, everyone with a pair of eyes knew all Chuck Bass was interested in was Blair and once Nate was off the picture, the two immediately became a thing. But now? Now he couldn’t convince himself of it, he couldn’t tell himself that she was trying to make him jealous as she stepped into a MET exhibition accompanied by someone whom he didn’t know. A Kennedy, he had heard, and how could Carter compete with a Kennedy? He could not but seeing his Y/N with someone else made his blood boil and his grip tight around the champagne glass. Clearly he had forgotten he was here with someone else as well, yet, that didn’t mattered. What mattered was that his Y/N was with someone else.

He hadn’t even want to come to this exhibition in the first place, he’d even tried to argue it out with Serena yet it was no use, he was here now and he could see it; he could see them. He could see the man pointing to his Y/N introducing her to everyone in the room as if she didn’t already know them. And that smile, that smile that always got him to do anything she wanted. A smile that was for him no longer yet looked his way and faltered. He downed the cold champagne in his glass, staring back at her before she moved her gaze away, hand wrapped around her date’s arm. Carter shoved the champagne glass on one of the floating silver trays before making his way through the crowd like a wolf hunting its sheep until she reached her. Whomever she was with had left her alone, probably to get some drinks but he didn’t care.

- We need to talk.

- No, we do not. - she grabbed a canape from a passing tray, a habit she had whenever she was uncomfortable at parties.

- Can you at least give me that? You ruined my family’s appearances at social events, you made your point. You owe me a talk.

- That’s rich. - she looked over her shoulder, hoping her date would come and interrupt their interaction.

- Please. - his eyes scanned hers for any softness which still laid for him, yet he couldn’t read her eyes. They were hooded and hidden by thick black shadow and dark eyeliner which took away from how watery and bright they usually were, from how happy he remembered them. It’d been a long, long three months and part of him hopped all the care she had once held from him hadn’t died. He still held her in high regard and while he didn’t expect her for even care for him anymore, part of him still hoped she wouldn’t let him bleed out if she found him wounded. However, Y/N was much too smart to let her own emotions take over her in public situations and so she walked away.

Her gown dragged away all her insecurities and all the faltering which still seemed to dance around her whenever he was around, yards and yards of fabric dragged all that was bubbling all the way to her throat and she found herself walking faster and faster to the bathroom. Her hands flew to the porcelain sink, holding herself up as if the weight of all she had ignored for the past three months was pushing her down into the centre of the Earth. Her head snapped up, watching her reflection in the golden mirror; she thought maybe if she could see how pathetic she looked, she would snap out of it.

- Y/N. - her grip on the porcelain tightened up as she turned her head to see him against the closed door.

- I hate you. - she almost barked those words at him, voice filled with poison as if she had wanted to say them a long time ago. His eyes softened, corners looking down, a far cry from how unreadable he always was. - With every fibre of my being, I hate you.

- Fine. - he made his way towards her, standing by her side. - I just wanted to say that I’m sorry I hurt you. I never meant to hurt you.

- You humiliated me in front of everyone. - her eyes looked into his for the first time that night, old wounds still not completely wounded. - You kissed me in Santorini when you were with Serena. You are a bad person, Carter.

- I know but I wasn’t with her like I was with you.

- Details of your relationship do not interest me, Carter. If you wanna talk about your relationship, I’d suggest couples therapy.

- We weren’t a couple in Santorini, Y/N. Did you seriously think I would’ve done that to you?

- I don’t know you. - she spewed those words, letting go of the sink and walking backwards, away from him. - I don’t even trust you, Carter.

- I hope you know I’m not asking for forgiveness from you. I’m just apologising.

- I don’t need your apology, I need you away from me. I want you away from me.

- You’re spoiled, you know that? - he pointed his finger at her. - Just because the whole world revolves around your family does not mean I’ll stop going places just because you don’t want to see me. You don’t get to decide what I do!

- For someone who hates this lifestyle, you seem so bothered. - she stood there, not completely happy with the adjective he’d just placed upon her. Y/N Archibald was many things, but spoiled was not one of them. No matter how many riches she had, she did not expect the world to bend to her will. - Why are you here if you’re just going to criticise me anyway?

The two of them remained in that match, almost to see which one of them could hurt the one the most, as if hurting each other would somehow make the fact they weren’t together hurt any less. The truth was, both of them were stubborn individuals and while Y/N had been the most forgiving of the two, seeing the man she had always hoped would someday be hers with someone else had almost erased all of that. Maybe she was spoiled for expecting him to someday magically want her by his side but he was spoiled too. They were two flawed human beings staring each other, waiting to see which one would break apart first until he realised one thing; he did not want to see her break apart. He was bitter, angry at her even but deep down he knew there was no one to be angry at but himself. He had caused this and he was lashing out at her, hoping that by hurting her, he’d feel better about her hating him so much. However, he did not want to hurt her. At least no more than he’d already done, either willingly or unwillingly.

- You win. - he lowered down his hands in defeat. Y/N, however remained still yet if one were to touch her arm, they could feel she was trembling. - I can’t fight with you any longer.

He almost left her there standing, not sure of what to say. He really was going to leave, he was going to disappear for a while yet his decision faltered as his eyes almost too quickly scanned her, noticing the thin gold bracelet around her wrist. He had given her that bracelet, something he’d got from one of his first travels to Europe. It was nothing too special, in all honesty, compared to what she was wearing, it was probably the cheapest thing she had on her person but he remembered that bracelet way too well. He remembered giving her the small little bag, her little argument about how he shouldn’t have gotten something for her, how she promised she’d never take it off. She still had it, she still wore it.

- You’re wearing the bracelet I gave you. - he pointed towards her wrist and she immediately covered it, looking at it for a bit before looking up at him.

- Fine. - her voice almost broke as she tried to undo the clasp.

- Don’t. - his voice however broke down as she found the clasp. - You promised.

Her aura softened, shoulders lowering to a neutral position as her hand unwrapped from her wrist, her eyes gazing the shiny gold metal before she looked up and at him. Whatever fire her anger had ignited within her went down, washed away like the waves onto the sand and for the first time she moved forward until she was close enough to feel his breathe on her face. Her eyes heightened up to his, lips half parted as her hands cupped his face, the same face she had seen grow older over these years yet remain the same blue eyes which were so typically his. Her finger grazed his cheekbone, the mere action making him nuzzle his face against her warm. She always had warm hands and the both of them no longer wanted to fight. She was tired and Carter was deadly afraid of not ever talking to her again, he could not lose her. He did not want to lose her.

There was no sound, not even the soft music outside seemed to break the silence, all that was around was their breathing, soft and slow. Her eyes moved from his to his lips, pink tinted, tainted with the taste of champagne which she could smell from his breathe. Soft emotion filled eyes looked his for a second before she moved closer, closing the distance between them. Her hands moved from his chest to rest against his chest as she tasted the champagne on his lips. His hands held her waist flush to him, before he two broke off the kiss, foreheads leaned against each other.

- Don’t leave.

162 notes · View notes

ptergwen · 3 years

Text

call me cupid

w/c: 3.5k

warnings: very mild angst and a few swears

summary: despite your hatred for valentine’s day, peter attempts to make you a card

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves!! i hope y’all get to spend some time with your people today and eat lots of chocolate <3 love you & enjoy mwah

it’s no secret that peter is terrible with words. he gets so flustered he can’t talk or forgets what he wants to say altogether. school presentations are torture. ordering food out is impossible. he’s accepted it at this point, that speaking just isn’t for him.

the one place it doesn’t come across is on paper. peter is ridiculously smart, and he knows all the right words to string together, which is why writing you a valentine should be no trouble at all. should be no trouble at all.

to tell the truth, he’s been sitting at his kitchen table with a blank sheet of paper in front of him for what feels like hours. nothing is coming to him. he’s not sure why this is so hard. you’re his girlfriend, he loves you, he’s said it so many times in every way he could think to. what’s different about it now?

everyone puts way too much pressure on giving the perfect gift when they should really just be enjoying each other’s company on a holiday about love. or, in your words, a meaningless holiday that was created by capitalists as another excuse to take people’s money.

alright, you aren’t too fond of valentine’s day.

it makes anyone who’s single feel like shit and anyone who’s in a relationship lose their shit.

only mj agreed when you shared your criticisms. ned and betty gave you looks like you were insane, and flash muttered something about you being undateable. peter had laughed and swung an arm around your shoulders, but he didn’t fully agree.

although valentine’s day has its flaws, peter likes to see it as twenty four hours of extra appreciation for the people in his life. you can buy chocolate for your friends and family. it doesn’t have to be a significant other, really. him and ned would do it before he had you and ned had betty.

peter wants to remind you how loved you are even if you’re not into the festivities like he is, that bringing him to writing your card. it’s a simple and clinically underrated way of expressing his gratitude. he’d write you love letters every day if he didn’t suck at them.

may comes out of her room to see peter in the same place he’s been since he got home from school. she looks at him through her glasses, smiling as she comes into the room. he’s tapping his pencil on the table, eraser down, searching his mind for anything to write.

“still nothing?” may asks him, making her way over to the cabinets. peter puts down the pencil and sighs. his shoulders slump. “nope. i haven’t gotten past the intro.” “intro, huh?” she teases her newphew and grabs a jar of sauce. “y/n isn’t your teacher, kiddo. you’re not writing her an essay.” she looks at peter over her shoulder. a sheepish smile creeps onto his face.

“you know what i mean.” he reads over the only words on his paper at the moment. dear y/n. he’s starting to feel like spongebob the one time he wrote a paper. “what are you making?” peter asks may so he can temporarily take the focus off his unwritten valentine. “pasta,” may shakes the box in her hand. “and meatballs.”

“should i dial 911 now or wait until we’re in flames?” peter jokes about her awful cooking skills. may shoos him off and puts the box of pasta on the counter. “worry about your own kitchen nightmare.” she nods at the sheet of paper tormenting him. frowning, he glances back at her. “i’m the worst, may. i really don’t know what to write.”

may struggles to open the jar of sauce as she replies. “i thought you said- jesus.” it pops off. “y/n doesn’t like valentine’s day.” she slides over a pot from the stove and dumps the sauce in. peter stares up at the ceiling. “she doesn’t.” that’s probably why he’s having such a hard time. “why are you writing her a card, then?” may questions, turning on a burner.

“because, i dunno, it’s nice? it’ll make her happy? she might not care, but i do.” he mumbles the last part. he’s a bit of a hopeless romantic, so he hasn’t quite adjusted to the idea you had of not getting each other presents. you’re treating it like a regular day. some takeout and cuddles is all you’re doing.

peter would rather buy you things until his pockets are empty. not that there’s much in them, anyway. the point is that you deserve proper spoiling instead of corny words in his shitty handwriting.

“peter, honey. it might be better to stick with what y/n wants,” may suggests while stirring the sauce in the pot. she’s well aware that a few paragraphs from peter won’t change your mind. your opinions belong to you, and there’s nothing he can do about it, though he does have good intentions.

ignoring what may just said, peter makes a request. “what if you help me write it?” she faces the stove again. he can picture her playful smile when she quirks back, “she’s not my girlfriend.” “no, but you’re a girl... a woman,” he corrects himself, earning a scoff from may. “you’d probably know what sounds good.”

“you know y/n better than me, peter. do it on your own,” she exhales and turns back around with the wooden spoon in her hand. “it’ll be more... heartfelt.” peter hates that may is right because he’s completely stuck. his heart is being stupid today. “okay. i’ll try.” he gives her a slow nod. “why don’t you take a break? come stir the sauce. i’ll start the pasta.”

peter gets up from the table and grabs the spoon from may. she pinches his cheek on her way to the sink, getting a tight lipped smile from him.

this is not good.

the next day at school, peter asks around the lunch table for advice while you’re on line getting food. he feels guilty about it because may told him not to. he’s never going to get your valentine done if he doesn’t, though. it isn’t the worst thing in the world to bring on some co-writers.

“ok, what do you have so far?” betty asks, fully invested in the situation. she’s hoping this will switch up your views on valentine’s day. peter pulls out the same piece of paper from last night and says verbatim what’s on it. “dear y/n.” he looks up at ned and betty, the corners of his mouth twitching down. ned motions with his hand for peter to go on.

“that’s it,” peter confesses and folds the paper back up in shame. “dude, you told us it was a work in progress,” ned winces, betty taking his hand that’s resting on her shoulder. “where’s the progress?” betty patronizes him. they’re making him feel worse than he already did. what great co-writers he’s collaborating with.

peter throws a hand up, an eye roll included. “yeah, it’s terrible. can you help me or not?” mj narrows her own eyes at peter from the other end of his bench. she’s not interested in participating when the conversation is about forcing you to celebrate a holiday you don’t like.

“ooh!” betty squeals and squeezes ned’s hand. “you should make a list.” ned grins, leaning his head on hers. “genius, babe.” “a list of what?” peter furrows his eyebrows as he looks between the two of them. “what you love about y/n,” she explains, ned adding on, “stuff you do together, or you appreciate.”

“put whatever you come up with into sentences and voilà,” betty says in her best french accent. “oui oui,” ned agrees, both of them giggling. that doesn’t sound half bad. peter could manage a list about you. “thank you so much, guys. you literally just saved valentine’s day,” he confidently tucks his paper into his pocket. “it’s what we do,” ned tells him coolly.

“you never asked what i think,” mj cuts in, staring down her friends, who reluctantly meet her gaze. she pushes her bag of goldfish aside and raises an eyebrow. “mj, we know how you feel about valentine’s day.” peter presses his lips together. “y/n feels the same way,” mj reminds him dryly.

it’s true, but he doesn’t want to hear that right now. he’s having a breakthrough.

like clockwork, you appear at the table. you slip into the spot next to peter and put down your lunch tray. “what’d i miss?” you comment on the obvious tension, eyeing betty for an explanation. mj gives it to you. “valentine’s day discourse,” she tells you knowingly. peter shifts in his seat, uncomfortable, like he’s been caught doing something he isn’t supposed to.

he technically has.

“yuck,” you murmur, winding your arms around peter’s neck. “yuck, yuck, yuck.” he finds your words ironic because you then kiss his cheek, and peck his lips when he turns his head. peter puts a hand on your side and lets his eyes go up and down your face. a smile spreads across it, which he returns without thinking about. mj huffs in disapproval. she’s seen enough pda.

peter makes his list later that night. he decided he isn’t being inauthentic because he’s coming up with everything himself. he breezes right through it, jotting down what he loves most about you across the paper. it’s a mess. scribbled out misspellings and shreds of eraser, single words and whole phrases covering both sides. he’s proud of his actual progress.

he’ll write the official letter tomorrow since you’re coming over tonight. he at least has his material. the next, thankfully final, step is to reword it.

you’re ranting to peter about some drama with one of your teachers. he listens intently as always, chuckling when you crack jokes and grinning the entire time, feeling so lucky to have the most passionate, say whatever is on her mind girlfriend ever. seriously, it’s inspiring to watch.

“no, like, i never know what’s going on in that class,” you snort, peter snaking his arms around your middle from behind. “because you don’t pay attention,” he hums with his face nuzzled into the back of your neck. “because it doesn’t make any sense!” you defend yourself. his lips brush against your bare skin, drawing a giggle out of you.

“back to what i was saying,” your voice drips with sarcasm. the two of you naturally gravitate to his room, you walking in first. “she called on me, and i- what’s this?” you escape peter’s arms and head over to his desk. crap, he was working on your valentine and forgot to put it away. it caught your attention because it’s surrounded by crumpled papers and glitter.

peter was... experimenting... with designs for the front of the card. he’s learned that he isn’t too artistic either.

“wait, don’t read that,“ peter tries, but you’ve already got the list in your hands. he anxiously sucks his lower lip into his mouth and comes to stand next to you.

you first see the ‘dear y/n,’ then focus in on a few other words. my person forever, which makes you coo at the paper. insane (in the best way), which makes you gasp dramatically. i know you don’t like valentine’s day, but...

you drop the card back on the desk and let out a breath, shutting your eyes as irritation creeps in. it wouldn’t be fair for you to be mad at peter because it’s a sweet gesture, it really is. just, not for you personally. you’re on opposite sides of the valentine’s spectrum. you despise it, he sort of loves it. you’d hoped to meet somewhere in the middle.

“i thought we said no gifts,” you keep your voice level and spin around to look at peter. his face is painted with guilt. “it’s a card,” he murmurs, then meets your eyes with his brows knitted together. “i can’t even give you a card?” “i mean...” you shrug and shake your head. “look, peter. we had an agreement. i’m not doing valentine’s day.”

his disappointment comes out in the form of hanging his head. “yeah, you’re right. sorry.”

may tried to tell him this would happen, mj tried to tell him, and now you’re telling him. he should’ve expected it. he isn’t sure why he’s being so mopey about it because he was fully aware of your hatred for anything with the word valentine in it. it still hurts. peter just wishes you’d let him have the one day to love you and only you, give you some special attention.

“it’s nothing against you, babe,” you reassure him, noticing the shift in his mood. you put a hand on his shoulder. “i really just don’t like valentine’s day. it feels so... fake to me.” peter musters up a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. it drops when you loop your arms around his torso.

“if i celebrated, you’d be the first person i’d wanna spend it with.” you punctuate your words with a kiss to his cheek. he rests his chin on your head, you nuzzling your own cheek into his sweater. he’s feeling a bit better now. it’s not about him, that’s what he needs to remind himself. “thanks, baby,” peter speaks lowly into the air. you hum as if to say no problem.

scratch literally everything he’s done.

peter rolls over in his bed, rubbing at his eyes as his alarm goes off. it’s today. happy valentine’s day to... himself. he doesn’t think you’d want to hear it.

he’s not as broken up about everything as the other day. you have your reasons for not celebrating, and peter accepts them. hey, he still gets to spend the whole day with you. you’re technically having an unspoken valentine’s date.

he gets up from his bed with a yawn and starts to dig through his drawers for an outfit. you should be over soon.

before you head over to peter’s, you decide to make a quick stop at cvs for a few things. you ended up feeling pretty terrible about snapping on him essentially for loving you. it was over a harmless valentine, something to make you feel good and be an outlet for the hundreds of romantic bones in his body. basically, you were bitter about having a thoughtful boyfriend.

you want to make it up to him by giving him gifts instead. you’ll never be down with the whole exploitive and capitalistic side of valentine’s day, but there’s a deeper meaning to it than what you give it credit for. you see that now. peter was able to show his love for you through a homemade mess of a card, and you felt it. the price tags don’t matter. the meaning does.

dressed in his nicest sweater with his hair all styled, peter answers your knocking at his door. a grin instantly paints his face as he takes you in. you’re bundled up in a coat and holding a bag by your side. “hey,” he greets you and lets you past him. you shut the door behind him, returning the smile and winding an arm around his neck for a hug. his drapes around your back.

“hey. happy valentine’s day.” “happy valentine’s-“ peter realizes what he’s about to say and what you just said, then stops himself. “what?” he breaks the hug, squinting at your odd behavior. you’re the last person he’d expected to hear that from. “it’s valentine’s day. so, happy valentine’s day,” you tell him like it’s nothing.

he stays quiet while you shrug off your coat and throw it over one of the kitchen chairs. you bring your bag along with you, peter following you in. he’s suspicious. intrigued, and suspicious. it’s been less than a day since he last say you. you had a change of heart that fast? you aren’t the biggest valentine’s day anti he knows anymore?

“where’s may?” you wonder aloud, taking both of peter’s hands in your now free ones. he eyes the shopping bag you put down while you lace your fingers together. “with happy. they’re getting brunch.” he’s never particularly psyched to talk about their relationship. it’s always been in a joking way, though. now, he sounds genuinely upset to go over may’s whereabouts.

“they’re so cute,” you comment, tugging on peter’s hands so he looks at you. “you good?” “great,” peter half lies and nods, then presses a reassuring kiss to your cheek. he’s not bad. puzzled is the word. what you say next only adds to it.

“good. i have a few things for you,” you beam at him and grab your shopping bag off the chair. that’s what that’s for? peter isn’t fully sure what you’re up to. it doesn’t stop a smile from stretching across his lips, though.

“what happened to no presents?” he tests you as you reach into the bag. “well, i feel bad about how i acted the other day.” you pull out a heart shaped box of chocolates. “the card was really sweet, and i was too caught off guard to appreciate it. i’m sorry, pete.” peter’s eyes twinkle at you, gazing as you give him a smile with a hint of shyness behind it. you’re leaving your comfort zone and entering his.

“i was wrong and cynical and just, yeah. happy valentine’s day,” you add on and shove the box into his hand. he finally grins, so wide and then lets out a breathy laugh. “thanks, y/n. i know it was probably hard to shop being surrounded by this stuff.” he holds up the box. he’s right. you’ll unfortunately be seeing pink and red for weeks. “it was, but i did it for you.” you happily open up your arms for him.

peter puts down the chocolates and pulls you into his arms, his cheek squished against the side of your head as he hugs you to his chest. “oh my god, i love you so much,” he mumbles out, you squeezing him in response. “i love you, pete.” you press a quick kiss to his neck and hold him at arm’s length so you can see him. “i have something else for you.”

“baby,” peter coos, a pout on his lips. “you don’t have to do all of this. i would’ve been fine without the chocolates, even.” “stop, you deserve it,” you shut down the part of him that’s way too nice and selfless. “you’re my real present,” he says lower and with a toothy smile. shaking your head, you reach behind you and into the bag.

he can’t believe you’ve switched stances on valentine’s day. you’re the present pusher, and he’s refusing them. peter thinks it’s some sort of miracle that you’re not only acknowledging the holiday, you’re also partaking in it. his hopeless romantic side tells him it’s actually love, and it is. that’s the cheesy, hallmark movie truth. you suffered through shopping at a heart themed cvs because you love him. simple.

you return with a pink envelope that you place into peter’s hand. his face softens as he closes his fingers around it. “y/n, you made me a card?” “kind of,” you laugh at his overstatement. it’s obviously pre-made. you’d used a pen to fill it out in the store, scribbled a few words and tucked it into the envelope.

“it really doesn’t compare to yours, though,” you simultaneously warn and compliment him. peter dismisses you with a lighthearted click of his tongue. “oh, shush. that was only a rough draft.” “which proves my point even more. open it.” you grip onto the bottom of his sweater and grin.

he keeps his eyes on you while ripping open the envelope, then looks down and chuckles at the gag of the card. it has r2d2 and r4d4 from star wars on the front. inside is already written, “r4 is red and r2 is blue. if i was the force then i’d be with you.” you giggle to yourself, watching him read what you wrote next. i love you more every day, especially on valentine’s. xo, y/n.

peter holds the card to his side and slings an arm around your waist. “they make star wars valentines?” he murmurs, another smile breaking out on his face, one that you of course return. you use his sweater to pull him closer. “apparently. perfect for you.” peter tosses the card down next to the chocolates, both arms now holding you.

“thank you so much, baby. you’re an angel,” he sighs and pecks your lips after. “call me cupid,” you answer.

you give him a longer kiss back, tilting your head up to deepen it. your hands find their place on his biceps, earning a hum from peter as he moves his lips against yours. you can feel his love in every little movement, how he hugs your waist like you’re made of glass, rests his forehead against yours. when your lips mutually detach, peter speaks first, voice slightly husky.

“happy valentine’s day, cupid.”

you breathe out, peter closing his eyes in content.

“happy valentine’s day, r2.”

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smut #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut

376 notes · View notes

charliedawn · 3 years

Text

Imagine being the only angel that likes Lucifer and is still fighting for his redemption

" Chloe ! You have awful neighbors, did you know that..?!"

" Lucifer !"

The devil doesn't have the time to make one more step inside the room that you are already jumping in his arms. He sighs as he recognizes you and awkwardly pats your back until you untangle yourself from him, a wide smile spread across your face.

" Y/N..What are you doing here ?"

He asks straight away, but you only shrug nonchalantly, as if your presence was of no importance.

" Just wanted to check on you ! Are you alright ? Father told me that you could use some company ! Plus, aren't I allowed to visit my favorite angel from time to time ?!"

He looks at Chloe that only shrugs at him, as clueless as he is. She had noticed you waiting near her house and had first suspected you to be a threat, but the way you had smiled at her had immediately made her trust you somehow.

" Chloe is a wonderful woman ! I understand why you like her so much. Thank you for the tea."

Lucifer looks at the empty cup and raises an eyebrow at the detective.

" Hey ! Why didn't you ever made me some tea ?"

Chloe scoffs at his poor attempt at jealousy before walking past him.

" Because A) She's better behaved and B) She isn't the Devil. Now, you two have a lot to catch up on I assume, so I'll be taking Trixie to the zoo while you two take care of whatever you're here for.."

She glances at you knowingly and you smile gratefully at her. She slams the door behind her and as soon as she is gone, Lucifer loses his playful smile and looks at you with a worried expression.

" Y/N..What are you really doing here ? You are one of his favorites. You have to return up there. It is not safe down here.."

You frown at his sudden seriousness and give a little pout before replying, your arms crossed.

" But it is for you ? You were one of us, Luci. The Greatest. It hurt me so much when I saw you fall and I am still fighting for your redemption ! You have changed. You have changed so much and I am not about to give up because you have !"

His eyes start watering despite himself and he asks you with a tremor in his voice.

" Why still believe in me ? There is nothing to save anymore..Why try so hard, Y/N ?"

You seem to think about it for a while before sighing and looking up at him with a hopeful smile.

" Because, I remember who you were..I remember who we were to each other and it was so beautiful, Luci. We were beautiful. When you fell, it took Michael, Azrael and Gabriel to keep me from jumping after you. I love you, Luci. We all did at some point but, even if the others chose to forget, I didn't..If only your pride hadn't taken control over you. You could have been magnificent, the angel of angels..This is also why I decided to take care of Hell while you're gone, covering your absence from Dad.."

He frowns in incomprehension before you smile and take his appearance in front of him.

" Neat trick, huh ? Nobody noticed the difference up there..Well, almost nobody. Gabriel did, but he promised not to tell anyone."

He had almost forgotten completely about Hell and takes your hands to kiss your knuckles in a simple act of humble tenderness, knowing what you were risking in helping him, knowing what HE would do if he knew.

" I'm sorry. I just wanted to feel loved..I just wanted HIM to be proud of me..I don't regret what I did that day, but if I regret anything..It's to have made you suffer, my little angel.."

You stroke his hair softly and smile compassionately at him.

" HE knows..HE is always watching you and know that you were doing what you thought was just..One day, you will come back home and that day, I'll be here, waiting for you.."

Luci looks up at you and gently runs his hand through your locks. He then kisses your forehead and you smile before slowly wrapping your arms around his neck to play with the hair at the back of his neck.

" No matter what happens, you'll always have me, Luci.."

You look up at him with all of the love you feel for this cursed angel and Lucifer tightens his grip on you, his eyes momentarily turning red with emotions.

" This is what scares me, Y/N..My poor angel, waiting for me will destroy you. I will never come back. Either Father will send me back to Hell or I'll stay here, among the humans."

You bite your lower lip before looking up at him and finally admit what you had agreed on with the great above.

" I know..This is why Gabriel has allowed me to rule Hell while you stay here, permanently, or at least until Dad finds out.."

His eyes widen at the news and he shakes his head negatively before cradling your face with his hands, almost crying at your act of kindness.

" Oh no, my darling..I..I'm sure he didn't say that, he couldn't have agreed to that. You must have misunderstood..You can't do that..Gabriel would never let you do that. And even if he did, I can't ask you to do that for me.."

You puff your cheeks, upset at his lack of faith.

" Why don't you believe me ?! Have you forgotten that the code forbids me to lie ?! Or do you have such little faith on my abilities ?!"

He laughs at your grumpy expression and shakes his head, making you understand that that wasn't what he meant, before putting his forehead against yours.

" Oh no, angel..It's not about not believing that you are good enough, I know that you are. It's about you not being here, right now, with me..Not being blamed for something that should be my responsibility.."

You try to make sense of his words until you seem to understand and burst out laughing to his astonishment.

" I see what's happening here ! You're afraid I'll put myself between you and the lovely policewoman ! But, don't worry, I'll be as discreet as a mouse as long as I'll stay here..I'm just here for a month and then, I'll be gone. I even got a job as a teacher at the school of Trixie, so you won't have to worry about me asking for money ! Lovely kid by the way !"

If Lucifer didn't have a headache before, he certainly did now..He is overwhelmed by the amount of information you've just given him and falls on the sofa. You follow him and sit next to him with your eternal sweet smile on your face and he runs his hand over his face, worry and tiredness written all over his features. You put your hands on his shoulders and your chin upon one of your hands, trying to soothe him by stroking his shoulders with your thumbs reassuringly.

" Let me take care of you..You've suffered enough, my wonderful little snake.."

Lucifer smiles at the familiar nickname before laying his hand over your back and looking down at you with teary eyes.

" Even after all this time, you still accept me ? You still find the strength in yourself to love me ?"

You answer him with a wide grin.

" Always. I'll always love you, Luci..They can tell me whatever they want, I know you and who you really are. I've seen every single part of you and I will always love all of them. Your flaws and your imperfections are what makes you so perfect..Can't you see ? You're not Father's greatest failure, your Father's greatest wonder. I could never be as human and empathetic as you are, I could never love them the way you can, because you understand them. Their desires, dreams and feelings are in you as well. In some way, I envy you. You'll always be closer to them than I'll ever be.."

Lucifer listens to your words with great attention and when you're finished, he looks at you like he's never looked at anyone before. He is full of gratitude and can't stop smiling at the abundance of kindness you had bestowed upon him. He kisses the palm of your hands, tears rolling down his cheeks and his heart swollen with adoration and devotion towards you.

" There is nothing great about humanity, but you seem to always see good in everything and everyone..You can't imagine how much I've missed you.."

You giggle as he peppers you face with kisses.

" I've missed you too, Luci..But, I think you should probably stop acting this way, or people will think you have a soft spot.."

You tease him and he takes a fake gasp before pointing a finger at himself.

" Me ?! Why never..?!"

You chuckle at his false startled expression before wrapping your hands around his waist to mumble against his shoulder.

" I love you, Luci..I know you don't believe me, but I really do."

He glances down at you with open tenderness before slowly petting the top of your head with care.

" I know, love..But, we both know that it will end in misery for the both of us.."

You smile up at him and kiss him on the cheek before replying with a shrug. You tighten your hold on him and make yourself even more comfortable by laying your head on his thighs.

" Misery with you is better than misery without you.."

He sighs loudly before looking down at you and seeing you suddenly asleep..Unaware that you were still somehow able to hear him, he whispers almost sorrowfully to himself.

" What hurts the most is that..You won't remember anything of what you just said.."

He watches your silent form for a while and takes a shaky breath before looking up at the sky, knowing that HE is listening.

" Punishing me wasn't enough ? You had to punish her as well ? How many centuries must you make her suffer and wait for something that will never happen ? You promised that when I would fall, she would stay safe..You gave me your word ! You turned around and left me to fall without her or you ! Can you imagine the pain I felt when I woke up in that dreadful place; alone and scared. And not only did you leave me, you took her away from me too ! You promised you wouldn't, and yet you did ! You gave up on us ! You gave up on me ! And just when I thought I would finally be able to forget her and live with Chloe, you send her to me and make me love her all over again ! What must I do to finally be able to forget ! I've done what you asked, over and over again ! I erased her memory every time she would come to see me ! I made sure that she would not remember all the moments we shared together after my fall ! And yet, you can't even keep an eye on her and let her run Hell alone ?! Why ?! To make me even more guilty ?! Every 100 years ! Every 100 years you let her come down here and make me suffer by erasing everything ! I thought that once I would be among them, she wouldn't be able to find me anymore, but as always, I'm trapped and must see the only person I love forget about me, over and over again.."

He starts crying and doubles in pain at the rage eating him up from the inside. This is where he feels it, a small tremor, a slight change in body position..He freezes in horror and looks down at you, to meet directly with your wide glassy eyes full of pain and grief.

"..Every 100 years ?.."

His breath stops as he understands that you've been listening to him and shakes his head at his own stupidity.

" Luci...? How many times did I come here to see you ?"

As he bites his lower lip in order not to answer you, you straighten up and ask again firmly, all joy having left your voice.

" How many times, Lucifer ?"

His eyes wander around the room before looking back at you and his heart tightens as he knows that he couldn't lie to you anymore.

" 50 times..You came 50 times and every time, you took a body and as soon as this body would reach its limit, you would die and get back up there with HIM..He would reset your memory and you would forget everything if I didn't do it first..while I remember everything. It hurts, Y/N..Just when I thought I could forget about you, he sends you again.."

You open your mouth agape at the news and look at the body you had taken and feel tears gathering up in your eyes. For centuries, you've fought for Lucifer's redemption, not even noticing that you were the one who was also being punished.

" This woman..Do you love her ?"

You suddenly ask and Lucifer stays silent for a moment before finally confessing.

" Not as much as you.."

You laugh at his answer before shaking your head and looking back at him with tears in your eyes, still full of compassion for him.

" But you will..You will love her with all of your heart and, knowing you, you will find a way for her to be by your side forever, something I can't be.."

He was about to deny your words, but you don't let him and stand up to walk towards the door. He quickly does the same and puts his hand over yours when you were about to use the handle to open the door.

" Please, angel..It is hard enough for me to know that I have very little time with you..Don't go."

He pleads and it takes all of your strength not to indulge in his request. You turn around and kiss him with a burning passion, to let him know that you weren't leaving him because you wanted to..But because you knew that there was nothing that you could do that wouldn't end up in tears and blood, because you love him. When he opens his eyes again, you are gone and he falls to his knees, knowing that it was probably the last time he would see you, or be intimate with you in this life. He knows that you've just given him the highest form of mercy there is: this kiss, signifying his freedom and the start of his new life..But then, why does it hurt so much ? As if you had just taken a part of himself with you..He looks up to see the car of Chloe that parks in front of the house, a very excited Trixie in her arms and wipes his tears away to smile at the family that he had learned to be a part of.

" So, is your friend gone ?"

Chloe asks, looking around to see if you were still in the house. Lucifer frowns before asking, confused.

" What friend ?"

One month later :

" Be safe on your way back, okay Trixie ?"

Trixie smiles up at you and nods vividly.

" Don't worry, my dad is coming to get me !"

You ark an eyebrow, wondering if Chloe had finally got herself a man to look after Trixie..not suspecting one bit that Lucifer would be the one entering your classroom to get Trixie. The little girl jumps in his arms and you can't help but laugh at her enthusiasm, as well as Lucifer's obvious awkwardness. When you make eye contact, you simply smile politely at each other and he turns around to get the girl back home. Perfect strangers. When he is gone however, you feel a pain in your chest and have to grip on the nearby table in order to support yourself. When you look up, you see Gabriel and smile bitterly, knowing why he was here..

" So, my time has come then, Gab ?"

He looks almost apologetic when he extends his hand towards you and answers affirmatively.

" You know the drill, Y/N..one month with him. You're the one who wished to share his burden..Hell is waiting.."

You close your eyes and nod in submission.

" I know..Lead the way, Gabriel."

Lucifer is feeling uneasy..He has this feeling that he knew that teacher somehow..But couldn't seem to recall where he could have seen her before..

" You know, the new teacher is really nice ! She got us some cake today, and said that I was going to become a very fine lady when I grow up !"

She puffs her chest out proudly and Lucifer smiles while they arrive at Chloe's house.

" Really ? And what else did she tell you ?"

Trixie frowns in deep concentration before answering him.

" Well..her name is Y/N..And when I said to her that I was friends with the devil, she told me to take care of him, as he is a very special friend.."

Lucifer chuckles before opening the door of his car and letting the little girl out to enter the house where her mother was trying desperately to find an explanation to her new case, not supernatural this time. It was rather refreshing..However, his thoughts come back to the earlier event when he had made eye contact with you, your smile had almost seemed..sad ? Y/N..Y/N..Where had he already heard that name before ? He searches in each corner of his memory, the feeling of knowing nagging and annoying him. He is in the middle of the driveway when he suddenly remembers and stops abruptly. His tires screech loudly on the pavement when he pulls back. He starts driving at a fast speed towards the school.

" Wait for me Y/N, I'm coming.."

You find yourself on the top of the school and look at Gabriel that seems to read your thoughts.

" He's not coming.."

You smile sadly at the prospect and nod understandingly.

" I know..Hell needs me, and he doesn't."

You take a big breath before opening your eyes, the last rays of sunlight reflecting in your eyes as your body starts shifting into his.

" Are we ready to go, Lucifer ?"

You smile at Gabriel's new name for you and nod before looking at yourself and smirking, the same smirk you had learned to love and hate as you were exercising how to do it in front of your mirror.

" Let's go, humans are such a boredom anyway !"

If Gabriel hadn't seen the transformation with his own eyes, he would have thought that it was the true Lucifer that was now standing before him..It is just when you deploy your white wings that he remembers that it is still you, under all of that pretend..You are both about to take your leave when you hear the loud bang of a car crashing nearby. You both look down and see Lucifer get out of the car, his eyes flashing a bright orange as he looks up at you. You shiver at the anger radiating from him and try to fly up after Gabriel. However, Lucifer shouts your name in such a guttural and ferocious way that you freeze.

" Y/N ! Don't you dare fly away from me ! I forbid you to go !"

You glance down at him and see that he has taken his true appearance back and each step he takes are trailed by little flames of Hell's fire. You shake your head and tear your eyes away from him to take a step back and jump in the air to follow Gabriel. Gabriel tries to warn you, but before he could utter a word, someone had tackled you to the ground in mid-air. When you look up, you see a very angry Lucifer on top of you and it's the first time that you are actually scared of him.

" Luci..? Wh..What are you..?!"

" Enough !"

He cuts you off with all of his mighty authority and you can't do anything but stay quiet as he glares at you.

" What do you think will happen if any of the demons down there recognizes you ?! What went through your little naive mind to think that that would ever work ?! You're an angel, Y/N ?! Come on, you really thought about the consequences of your actions ?!"

Your lower lip quivers at his harsh words and you feel hot tears rolling down your cheeks. He grins evilly at you before wiping your tears in a false gesture of sympathy.

" Aww..If you had done your researches like a good little angel, you would have known that Lucifer Morningstar doesn't cry.."

" Liar !"

You shout back and he smirks at your insult.

" See ? Progress."

He then stands up and yanks you up just as Gabriel flies down next to the both of you. He looks at the both of you before sighing and taking a step back, making you understand that he wouldn't take part of what was to unfold.

" I don't know what's going on, and I don't have the time to care..All I know is that I have to bring one of you in Hell before the gates close tonight.."

You and Lucifer look at each other and Lucifer is surprised to see you get on a fighting stance, but smiles at the determination in your eyes.

" You want to got to Hell ? Fine by me..But you'll have to go through me first."

Far from feeling threatened, Lucifer is amused by your strength of will and his smile widens. He slowly takes back his human form and cracks his fingers theatrically before gesturing for you to step closer with his index.

" Wanna fight the devil ? I must warn you, it plays dirty.."

You smile at his innuendo before running towards him and throw a punch at his face. He takes a step back, not having expected you to actually be fighting him, but quickly composes himself and tries to knock you out with a blow to the head. However, you're too fast and make him fall by round kicking his legs. You can't help but smile smugly at his startled expression.

" Have I forgotten to mention that I've been learning a thing ot two about fighting with Michael ?"

He groans at the name of his brother and quickly stands up to attack again. Soon, you are both fighting each other seriously and, blow after blow, both get tired. Gabriel doesn't even know which one is which at the end, when you both pass out. However, Time is running out and he decides to take the closest Lucifer to fly away. He succeeds in arriving to the gates just in time and when you wake up, you find yourself in Hell. You look around and see the billions of souls being tortured and it takes all of your self-control not to throw up and remain poised on your throne of stone. You close your eyes and take multiple breaths to calm yourself. When you open your eyes, you sit straight and whisper to yourself.

" Okay..Here we go, Lucifer..Wish me luck.."

#lucifer morningstar #lucifer #Trixie #netflix #movies #series #afterlife #Lucifer Morningstar x reader

176 notes · View notes

shit-scfandom-did · 3 years

Note

so i have a few questions

1)i cannot understand how you ship k*ramel. their relationship was FILLED with toxicity. from mon-el failing over and over again to listen to what kara had to say to him basically telling her to give up being kara danvers. convincing her that "being supergirl and having you is enough” was absolutely horrible. karamel had their moments but overall it was toxic. then in s3 mon el was married and the whole point of season 3 was allowing them to move on. accepting the toxicity from s2 and pushing past that romanticized time. mon el was a better person by 3b but he was still married. even if mon el and imra did break up in the finale there’s no future for karamel. even during 5x13 kara went to ask on advice about lena. and when winn came to visit from the future not a word about him. she’s moved on and it just wouldn’t make sense for kara to end up with him.

2) how can you hate lena so so so much?? it’s been said over and over again that all she’s ever wanted to do is good. though she’s designed to be this morally grey character. she has FLAWS but that’s what makes her so good. she’s a victim of abuse and you can see her struggle with that especially in seasons 4 and 5. in 5 she definitely goes down a questionable path but how can you expect her not too? after being emotionally abused by her brother, betrayed by her family, andrea (this did happen before kara), and then eve. finding out that kara and EVERYONE she loves has betrayed her as well. I mean how could you not go mad?? and even when she “went mad” she was trying to rid humanity of PAIN. something she later realized was a necessary part of life. her hurt blinded her from reality and lex’s manipulation pushed her down further. she’s been hurt and broken so many times and while that’s not an excuse for what she’s done you have no sympathy for her and that I find appalling. lena has realized what she’s done is wrong, that she’s made mistakes, what she did to kara, and she will have to live with that isn’t that punishment enough? she’s apologized and is trying to make up for everything she’s done by saving the world (again). your unnecessary hate towards her infuriates me. cant you take a step back and see the whole picture?

3) why DONT you ship supercorp or accept the queerbaiting? (watch this: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=C2w2GBXd_Pg) They are the core relationship of the show while the danvers sisters are the heart. they’ve gone through so so much together and practically dated in early season 2. they love each other it’s just oh so apparent. i like to believe one of the reasons lena reacted so strongly in s5 is because she was in love with kara and she couldn’t handle the person she was in love with lying to her. and kara flew around the world to get lena’s favorite food!! if that’s not romantic idk what is. I feel like you’ve developed such a clouded view of supercorp that you need to take a step back and understand what lena is the love of kara’s life.

wow what a long message. im not here to hate. im here to inform & undertand. i get it. karamel had their moments and even MY perception of them might be a little cloudy. im not going to hate you for liking them. hell I even shipped them for a little! my brother thinks 3b mon el and kara would’ve been perfect but he understands that supercorp is just where the show is leading and he wants them to be endgame. but what I will hate is your hate. what’s the point of all this? this thread, this account is going to do NOTHING. so why bother? I debated sending this and I hope I’m not too harsh at times but I really wanna see what you say. I hope you can open your eyes to lena and supercorp. maybe even become a supercorp shipper yourself!

- thanks and supercorp endgame 💙❤️

First of all, if you want to discuss ships in the future send this type of anons to facepalming-since-chernobyl, this blog is not for this, but for gathering receipts.

1.I just ship it, I don’t get why you have to understand it. It’s shipping. But if you insist:

No, it was not filled with toxicity. Count me when he failed to listen to her when they were in a relationship. Secondly, he is not a dog, he has his brain, he is his own person. People don’t always do what others asked them to do. It’s not slavery.

He has NEVER said to her to give up being Kara Danvers. How did he exactly convince her? How can you read the scene that he convinced her that being supergirl and having him is erasing Kara Danvers? In this scene he supports anything SHE WANTS to do. Also, Kara Danvers doesn’t equal Kara being a reporter in CatCo. On that moment she had her blog. She change people’s live with it like a real reporter. She took the risk and met consequences of her actions aka being fired by Snapper. Also, remind me who told her to create a blog? With your logic Lena was erasing Kara Danvers too.

Friendly reminder that he was forced to the marriage to keep peace. Also, friendly reminder Imra and the Legion out him in this situation without telling him about her plans. She and Brainiac put him there, knowing exactly how much he loved Kara and how much she meant to him. Imra knew that, that’s why she asked him to stay and solve his feelings. She said if he had come back, she would have known he had no doubts. But he wanted to stay, that’s why they broke up. He came back because once again he sacrificed himself for the greater good, like a real hero. Maybe watch the Argo eps because they clearly show that no, it was no about moving on.

It was not accepting about so called toxicity. First of all, she already forgave him that he lied. Secondly, all of she was screaming in that scene, when she was infected with M’rynn’s powers, happened before they got together and it was already approached in the musical ep. Aka, this scene had no point.

There is no future for karamel because you say so?

Kara went to asked him, because she truly believed and trusted him and his judgment. And yes, she asked about Lena and what did he said? That Kara deserved the same compassion she gives others, something Lena never gave her. And sorry, I know all scs scream the 100 ep was about sc, but it was about Kara fully realizing she is not responsible for Lena’s horrible choices. That’s it. And friendly reminder she called her a villain in the last scene. Also, the ep showed than no matter what, Lena always ends screwing something, because she has too big ego, always knows better, doesn’t stand criticism and doesn’t trust anyone.

It doesn’t make sense for you. Suit yourself.

2.Her fans made me hate her :) Thanks to them and how they excuse her every horrible action, how they treat her as a victim, while she abuse everyone etc. I started to watch her more carefully. And well, she is a horrible, white, privileged capitalist, who plays god, judge, jury, has mommy issues and acts like typical Luthor while crying she is not one, while still using Luthors money and resources.

Yeah, many people want to make good and end doing evil things. Common people pay for their sins, she has never. Since allowing hostile Daxamite army to invade the Earth (also, her portal affected the other aliens who destroyed the NC), producing a device that could recofnize aliens without their consent (and it was used by Children of Liberty,)producing and lying about Kryptonite, trying to make people superpowered without any supervision, killing Adam during illegal experiment, supporting openly alienphobic president and in a way Agent Liberty, killing Lex and then blaming Kara and finally manipulating Kara for months, lying, gaslighting, yelling, making her steal Lex journal, trying to lobotomize her and tortured with kryptonite, hurting every way possible, physically and mentally. Working with mass murderer, enslaving 3 people (kidnapping Eve, without her consent putting AI into her mind, basically RAPING her brain and making her a puppet in her own body; enslaving end experimenting on Malefic and Russel – threatening to kill him to steal Andrea’s necklace) – none of it are flaws. It was horrible abuse and violating every human right and the fact some people excuse it is disgusting.

First of all, being victim of abuse doesn’t give you the rights to HURT other people. The fact I have to explain pains me. Secondly, what abuse exactly? Lillian didn’t love her? Lex kidnapped her? Said he was going to kill her? You know what? Winn HAD HORRIBLE past and he didn’t turn into a murderer. Mon-El was abused by his mother and never tortured Kara with Kryptonite. J’onn killed a lot of white martians but last time I checked he doesn’t feel good about it. Also, never said the things he has done were GOOD. See a difference?

Yeah, and all of it, still doesn’t give her the rights to torture people. Also, friendly reminder she lied to Supergirl about Kryptonite in s3, much before the whole drama. Remember how she destroyed the life of a girl that stole boyfriend in middle school? It clearly shows she always had THAT in her. Plus, sorry not sorry, if she wanted different life, outside her family she could have easily done that. She was in Star City, with Jack, doing her researches, making her career. And she threw it all away, because she WANTED to be a Luthor.

Plus, sorry not sorry, if you feel betrayed and hurt because your friend didn’t tell you something she didn’t OWE you, you go to therapy, not trying to lobotomize entire planet.

Mate, she wanted to lobotomizer entire humanity, without ANYONE’S consent, because SHE, one single Lena, felt hurt. This is playing a GOD. Nothing explains it.

Planning a cold ass revenge for months is not being blinded by feelings.

Once again, even if could argue about how many times she was broken, most of that was a white privileged life she chose herself but whatever, it still doesn’t excuse her. All of she has done should meet consequences. Paying for shit you have done, accepting it, fully realizing what you have done is a part of redemption. Still in s5 she didn’t even apologize to Kara. Because she still didn’t understand what she has done and doesn’t feel sorry about it.

Feel appalled as much as you want, because I’m not going to feel sorry for a white, privileged woman who has never paid for her actions and is basically a living avatar of the worst Karen you can imagine.

She realized Lex was using her horrible experiments (remember? She experimented on puppies too) to his own agenda, that’s why she went to Kara. That’s not grasping a thing. Mhm, if you call that an apology then suit yourself. She is not saving the world, she is helping once again other people fixing the shit she created.

Feel infuriated as much as you want, because I don’t care? Especially when it comes from a person who tells others to take a step back while being totally narrow minded about Mon-El and karamel.

3.Because actors, prodcuers, writers call SC a female friendship. Mel did that in her last interview. See whatever you want but maybe stop forcing people to ship a horribly abusive ship.

Well… no. Kara is the heart and soul of the Supergirl. Alex is her most important relationship. Lena is an important friend, who doesn’t deserve it yet, but we all know Kara is the Paragon of Hope so of course she is going to forgive her.

I know you people think sc dated because they breathed in one room, but in s2 Kara dated, had sex, kissed, cuddled and enjoyed her time with Mon-El.

Yeah, they love each other as friends. It was said more than once.

That’s your delusion, you are free to do it.

Kara done that to Alex too, so you are saying she is romantically in love with her sister or something? If bringing people food is romantic and damn, most of the people I know loves me, god.

No, lena is not Kara’s love of her life.

Cool, you are not going to hate me because I ship karamel, I’m touched.

Sorry that you are going to be super disappointed in the end of the show I guess.

You will hate my hate – what’s the point of it?

Once again, because I don’t think you understand the point of this blog or read the description – it’s gathering receipts of assholes who cross tag and hate on the actors. Maybe go and search #gross hate or #cast hate on this blog so you can see how amazing your fandom is. Have fun.

I would rather eat my own shit than starting shipping the victim of abuse with her abuser.

Thanks and no :)

#anons

165 notes · View notes

the-ghost-king · 3 years

Note

the term malewife isn’t a very nice term to use...

A man who acts as a wife and is inferior to his #girlboss girlfriend.

Person A: I just got myself a malewife. He's gonna clean my kitchen and watch me download custom content for the sims.

Person B: Sweet! You must be such a girlboss

^^urban dictionary. It’s just confirming to the sexist stereotypes that perceive and expectation of what a wife should act like. It’s quite harmful

It's a parallel to girlboss which is conformity to the sexism within corporate America:

"it becomes inescapably clear that when women center their worldview around their own office hustle, it just re-creates the power structures built by men, but with women conveniently on top. In the void left after the end of the corporate feminist vision of the future, this reckoning opens space to imagine success that doesn’t involve acing performance reviews or getting the most out of your interns." (here)

The word girlboss comes from a book quite literally called #girlboss, in parallel to the negative aspects of this book people eventually rebranded the term "malewife" to parallel it (malewife was originally an nsfw type thing)

In the malewife/girlboss "system" it's essentially the swapping of the problematic aspects, expectations, and socialization of men and women within a relationship

"Girlboss, gaslight, gatekeep" was a meme started to pick on the idea that women should become men and enforce the sexism within corporate society, and I'm sure it was a jab at the book the word came from as well.... "Manipulate, mansplain, malewife" was created to parallel the original meme

So yeah, the whole concept is mocking sexism within corporations and and modern relationships and showing how ridiculous it is. Girlboss mocks the idea of 2014 (largely) white feminism within America.

In example the original meme (created on Twitter) is intended to make mockery of Karen-types:

On January 12th, 2021, Tumblr user missnumber1111 posted, "today’s agenda: gaslight gatekeep and most importantly girlboss," garnering over 43,500 notes in a month (shown below). On that day, Twitter user @CUPlDL0VE posted, "my agenda is gaslight gatekeep and #girlboss," the first instance of the phrase on Twitter.

And a day later on January 13, 2021 Tumblr user a-m-e-t-h-y-s-t-r-o-s-e reblogged the post along with a photoshopped image of "Live, Laugh, Love" wall art instead reading, "Gaslight every moment, Gatekeep every day, Girlboss beyond words" (shown below). On January 18th, the image was reposted to Twitter for the first time.

Malewife doesn't hold those same implications however... The term malewife which is now being used to parallel girlboss achieves it's origins from p*rn, now I'm not an nsfw blog or someone who blatantly discusses nsfw concepts on my blog so I'm not getting super into it but there's a few places it comes from: femdom, bdsm, and feminization kinks... All of which have a connection to queerness in their own right but I don't feel comfortable going into the complexities of that with so many younger people following me.

On February 15th, Tumblr user @relelvance posted, "Manipulate, mansplain, malewife" as a male-themed opposite to "gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss," garnering over 27,000 notes in four days. The post was screenshotted and reuploaded by Twitter user @nortoncampbell on the same day, garnering over 14,200 likes and 2,800 retweets in the same span of time (shown below).

Urban dictionary's explaination of "malewife" is not only harsher than what malewife was intended to mean, but also removes the context of origin from the word- making it something new, different, and erasing the history of who originally used this word.

Because of Malewifes origins vs Girlboss origins, malewife is a less problematic term than girlboss and is more "affectionate" because the term malewife and it's use (up until recently) involved the man acknowledging that he wanted to be the "wife" in his relationship. There's a variety of reasons someone might do this, but it can generally be summed up as a mixture of personality and also personal wants.

I do think it's important to also note that although these words are being "glamorized slightly" they're still intended and being used in a memeing manner, but they're also used to quickly denote arbitrary traits in an individual and categorize those traits...

Although there's lots of conversations to be had for a variety of reasons about the origin and use of the word "girlboss" in relation to sexism, up until recently the world "malewife" was something claimed by men, something men wanted to be called, and something that men who used the term wanted to reference them.

Malewife is about "stepping-up" to "take on" "female" social roles, and it's something that at least some women would be happy to see in society:

"...We have been told that we can have it all, but so far we have noticed that it is extremely hard work having it all, because you still have to do everything that your mother did but now you have to do everything your father did as well. Except that your father had your mother waiting at home with a gin and tonic and his slippers when he came home from work, and you have the washing up and the shopping and a few screaming brats as well as a bloke with his feet up on the sofa watching the football... " (via. Victoria Mary Clarke)

And I don't think that she's wrong at all. Women are still expected to do so much more than men in society without equal reward.

Malewife exists as a a sort of fantasy removed from the truth of society. It's an idea that a husband can be waiting at home to care for his wife, and in this instance it benefits the woman- unlike Clarke's situation above, the woman comes home from a long day and is able to relax without the pressures of society and her life.

Where housewife is a word that holds its origins in forced subservience, malewife is a term that is showcasing men "picking up the torch" in regards to housework- where housewife is socially forced, and girlboss is reversed social compliance, malewife is the rejection of social expectations.

Malewife is about men finding a place in their life's and relationships to make themselves more than a paycheck. To say "I can be emotionally there for my spouse, I can clean a toilet, and drive kids to school, and I don't treat my spouses wants as something expendable". In a society in which men are often demeaned, mocked, and scorned for picking up socially female roles (say hello to misogyny and gendered contamination!)

The Urban dictionary definition, is not only too harsh- but not the way in which the word is intending to be used, because that's ignoring the origins of this word, and the fact that men had a choice in becoming malewifes where women didn't have that choice. It should read more like:

Person A: Ah yeah, I have a malewife waiting for me, he's going to clean my kitchen because I've had a hard day at work and need a break, and then he's going to watch me download custom content for the Sims because I enjoy the game so much and it helps me take a break from life!

Women's wants were often ignored in favor of men's wants, so by the malewife saying he's going to watch his spouse play the Sims, he's really saying "I care about her interests" and by him picking up the kitchen cleaning after she's had a stressful day he's saying "I have a lower stress job so I can handle that for her and make her life a little easier" (because malewife doesn't mean he doesn't have a job).

In a society in which a man's worth is tied to his ability to bring home money and be emotionally distant, malewife is the rejection of this norm. Malewifes are going to be there for their spouse, they're going to step up and take on traditionally women's roles and they're doing it because they want to, because they like it, and because dividing chores into pink vs blue is wrong.

I also want to say, you can't flip a word around and say it does "this" because that's not how it works... Men and women are forcibly socialized in very different ways, the two binaries have very different treatment, and expectations within societies social constructs. If you could flip the forms of oppression that men vs women face (because yes, the patriarchy oppresses men) then you could also flip the forms of violence faced by trans masculine people vs trans feminine people- but that doesn't work either, because women will always be oppressed in the most public way to "make an example of them" while the patriarchy expects anyone who is male to "keep his mouth shut and fall in line". (I know that's worded poorly, but I've just written at least a couple hundred words and my brain is a bit fried already from various other things today- basically anyone perceived female or male will be treated in a certain way as a result of others perception of them)

Anyhow, all this isn't to say that the term "malewife" is inherently free of any form of flaw ever... Malewife is a newly mainstream word, it wasn't popularized until February 15 of 2021... So?? 5 days ago?? The origins of malewife and the social implications of malewife combined with the history of the word, don't make the word bad or impressive and it's not "upholding the ideals of a housewife" but instead a word which provides men freedom from male social expectations.

Can the word malewife come to be a word which enforces expected female social behavior? Yeah it absolutely can become a word to mean that, erase the history from the word, and give it to someone who doesn't know the history of the word, and someone who doesn't have an intimate understanding of gender theory, and you've got a recipe for hundreds more asks like the one you've sent me...

I can't find a single positive reason to use the word girlboss in an empowering way, but I can find more reasons to use the word malewife in an empowering way than not to do so.

So at the very least if all you come away from this with is that I don't personally use the word malewife to uphold female social expectations in a relationship but instead I use this word to provide space for guys to be allowed to be feminine, soft, caring, emotionally present, and worth more than their monetary value, then I guess that's okay.

#long post #asks #Anon #malewife #sorry for clogging your feed #i don't have a desktop rn

180 notes · View notes

themurphyzone · 3 years

Text

PatB Oneshot: Every Rose Has Thorns and Petals

Summary: Brain’s plan is simple: create a Valentine card with a message that the world should adore him as their new ruler. But he needs extra help in coming up with a catchy message to rein in the consumers for the outer cover. And who better to help than the expert of all things amour?

AN: I decided to see if I could write a good Suavo. Enjoy! Warning for terribly cheesy flirting. I don’t typically write this genre XD

This borrows from the HC that Pinky can still do the Suavo persona.

Written for Valentine's Day/Suavo Sunday. I regret everything.

AO3 Link

At last, a new plan came to fruition! With Valentine’s Day looming upon them with its chocolate-coated fangs and sickly sweet aroma, people would be flocking to grocery stores everywhere to purchase giant teddy bears they could barely carry around and heart-shaped boxes of gourmet chocolate. But most lucrative of all, they would buy Valentine cards with the most obnoxious lovestruck messages that were far cheesier than Pinky’s cheesecake.

Everything clicked into place. The slightly larger than average dimensions of a Valentine’s card. Various red and pink hues for the envelopes. Colorful images with hearts, roses, and Pinky on the front cover (for Pinky met all of the scientific criteria that triggered one’s protective instincts). And on the inside, an image of Brain standing on the world in royal regalia with a message declaring that all the world shall adore him as their new leader.

But there was a single, glaring flaw to his otherwise brilliant plan.

He could not come up with a ridiculous phrase for the outside cover. It had to be eye-catching, humorous, or corny enough to grab a customer’s attention. He stared at the smiling picture of Pinky for several minutes, then gave in.

Pinky was the expert in all things ridiculous after all.

“Life is the road I wanna keep going! Love is a river and I wanna keep going ooonnnn!” Pinky sang along to his playlist, leading a Barbie doll in a tender waltz.

And it was best to interrupt before Pinky’s playlist reached My Heart Will Go On. That sappy 90s love ballad was on there. He was not striking the King of the World pose until he was actually king of the world, but that assertion hadn’t gotten through Pinky’s cotton-stuffed head yet.

Brain grabbed the prototype card and pencil, marching up to the windowsill where Pinky and Barbie danced under the evening sky. The sun lowered, the moon rose, and the first twinkling stars poked out, signifying the beginning of another night.

The phone was propped against a wall, and Brain smacked the image of Anastasia and Dmitri dancing to stop the song as he passed by. Pinky continued to hum, dipping Barbie low enough that her blonde hair touched the windowsill. His eyes were half-lidded, tail swishing to an invisible beat. Though there was no music, his rhythm was steady and his feet never missed a step.

It was mesmerizing. Pinky danced with all the grace of a professional ballerina.

He pricked his finger on a sharp point of the prototype card, and the poke brought Brain back to reality. Right. No distractions.

“Hiya, Brain! Zort!”

Dear Archimedes there were otherworldly blue eyes right in front of his face.

Startled, Brain leapt back and swung his pencil defensively. There was a muffled narf as the eraser end went into Pinky’s mouth. Once the initial shock passed, Pinky giggled and nibbled on the eraser, several rubbery shavings poking out between his teeth.

Brain took a deep breath, trying to calm his too-fast heartbeat.

“Quit slobbering on my erasers, Pinky,” Brain snapped. He removed his pencil from Pinky’s mouth, wrinkling his nose at the saliva-coated eraser. He tossed it aside, and the pencil skittered across the counter and onto the floor.

“But they taste so good!” Pinky licked his lips. “Especially with a pinch of dryer lint. That way you get fluff and chewiness in one single fantastic bite!”

Sometimes he truly worried for the state of Pinky’s digestive tract. For now, it was best to change the topic entirely. “As much as I’d love to debate the intricacies of your exotic cuisine, I require some of your eccentric expertise for my latest plan,” Brain said, setting the prototype card on the counter.

Pinky’s tail and ears perked up. A predictable reaction, but reliable all the same.

While Pinky put Barbie away, Brain retrieved a new pencil. There were few writing utensils that weren’t chewed up by a bored employee or Pinky for fun, and it wouldn’t be long before Brain would have to acquire more.

“I gotta help Brain now, Barbie. Thanks for sharing a dance with me! Those ballroom dance classes are really paying off!” Pinky chirped, waving to the inanimate Barbie, who now sat in a pink plastic convertible next to a shirtless Ken doll. He peeked inside the card and clasped his hands together, holding them against his cheek dreamily. “Awww, Brain! This is gonna be so romantic!”

“The very atmosphere I intend to create with these mass-produced cards, Pinky,” Brain replied. “However, while I have all the elements of your typical Valentine card alongside an additional message that will aid us in our conquest, I haven’t worked out one essential component yet.”

He closed the card and tapped the empty speech bubble next to Pinky’s image.

Pinky tilted his head. “You haven’t figured out how to make single people buy your cards yet?”

Drat. He hadn’t considered those outliers.

“Then we’ll just have to infiltrate the postal service,” Brain said, mentally congratulating himself on correcting that error quickly. “But before we implement the plan, I need a Valentine phrase for this speech bubble. A saying that will entice the average infatuated consumer and hook them into purchasing my cards alone. And since you lean heavily toward the sentimental and saccharine…well, this is where I require your assistance.”

“The sentimental and the saccharine?” Pinky echoed. “I don’t think I’ve heard of that soap opera, Brain. What channel is it on?”

Brain opened his notebook and found an empty page, poised to jot down Pinky’s suggestions. “The real life channel. Don’t be concerned about missing it, Pinky. It’s on 24/7 all year long. But I digress. The sooner I find a phrase, the sooner we’ll have the world!”

Pinky tapped his foot in thought, the tip of his tongue poking out like he truly believed protruding tongues had the power to magically grant ideas. For all Brain knew, Pinky probably believed that.

Then Pinky snapped his fingers. “I got it! How ‘bout ‘be mine, valentine’?”

“Too cliché,” Brain muttered. A million Valentine cards would already have similar phrasing. They didn’t have time to seize control of a greeting card factory. “Not unique enough.”

Although the valentine bit wasn’t particularly directed toward him, his grip on the pencil slackened, the tip leaving a graphite smudge along the margins. He quickly turned the pencil around and erased it, hoping Pinky didn’t catch onto his brief moment of inattention.

Fortunately, Pinky didn’t notice. “Alrighty then. Hmmm…you’re the sour cream to my cheese-slathered potato?”

“…I’ll save it for a last resort.”

Well, he asked for unique. But sour cream didn’t particularly invoke strong Valentine feelings. Idioms that involved sweet foods with enough sugar to induce diabetes in an elephant would be better, and he made a quick note to the side.

“I turtle-y adore you?” Pinky suggested, his blue eyes sparkling accordingly.

Brain felt a light blush settling over his cheeks, and he rubbed his fur to rid himself of the mortifying feeling. “Doesn’t match your picture. And no animal puns unless they involve mice.”

Pinky rubbed his chin, not one to be easily deterred. “There’s gotta be some good ones on the Internet.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, Pinky,” Brain sighed. He sat cross-legged on the counter, massaging his forehead to intercept any headaches before they began. “Figured we should’ve gone with the photobooth plan. It’s your fault for influencing my subconscious with your caterwauling over The Princess Bride’s movie adaptation.”

“Troz! I’ll have you know Princess Buttercup and Westley have great chemistry!” Pinky pouted.

Brain rolled his eyes. “Please. They’re about as compatible as two noble gases.”

Pinky went quiet after that. Whether he’d gone off into the imaginary world of talking cheeses or taken unusually great offense on the lead couple’s behalf, Brain wasn’t sure. But the silence obliged, and Brain took the opportunity to ponder their next course of action.

Take a risk and use one of Pinky’s earlier suggestions? Scrap the plan entirely and pull one from storage? Seek a second opinion?

Then Pinky gasped, his tail pointing high in the air like an inverted exclamation point.

“Brain, are you pondering what I’m pondering?” Pinky asked, gripping Brain’s shoulders in excitement.

Brain leaned back, supporting himself on the palms of his hands. “We break out the Feldman disguises and ask Mr. Sultana for his opinion on what a hypothetical Valentine card should say?”

“I’m sure he’s got a bunch of good ones, but that’s not it,” Pinky said. “Actually, I oughta slip into something more…in-character. I’ll be right back!”

Pinky skipped away, humming as he went over to his dress-up box in the corner of their cage. He pulled a divider around himself so that all Brain could see was a shadowy silhouette rummaging through clothing and accessories.

Brain continued to ponder, though no feasible ideas were coming to him. He closed his eyes, shutting out all visual forms of distraction. He listened to Pinky dressing in the cage, but it was more white noise than a true hindrance.

Five minutes later, he still had nothing. But there was something…different.

A tantalizing scent. Not overly sharp, though just light enough that he couldn’t identify it with confidence. And he wanted to know more.

It wasn’t fruit or soap. Nor was it vanilla, like the scented candles Pinky loved so much.

Something smooth snaked its way under his nose, brushing the fur above his lips. The scent was closer now. His nose twitched.

“ACHOO!”

Startled by the force of his sudden sneeze, Brain’s eyes flew open. He rubbed his nose to wipe off the lingering sensation, staring down at Pinky’s long tail, which sat unassumingly in his lap. The tip was wrapped around the stem of a small red rose.

The tail lifted, rubbing against the fur under Brain’s chin. Brain felt his cheeks heat up again, and he quickly batted the offending appendage away.

“Pinky, you’re not helping my state of-“ Brain began, ready to launch into a verbal tirade on how he needed to think and if Pinky wasn’t going to help then he could make like a mitotic cell and split…and then he saw a very familiar, perhaps all too-familiar, lavender tuxedo with an overstuffed dark purple…something underneath.

He couldn’t tell if it was a shirt, vest, or pincushion. A gold button glinted in the middle of Pinky’s chest.

Gulping, Brain knew the mysterious article of clothing was the least of his concerns. He forced himself to look up, gaze raking past the slender neck and toward half-lidded, coy blue eyes. A sophisticated mustache poked out from each side of Pinky’s muzzle. And he was genteel, charismatic…

Suave.

Pinky’s ability to play a character to perfection never ceased to astound him. He still remembered? Brain had long destroyed the Personalitron and its blueprints, deeming them unnecessary and cumbersome.

“Pardonnez-moi, you with the giant head and marshmallow body are seeking the passionate advice of I, the great Pinky…Suavvvo-“ he drawled every syllable with that odd French accent, r’s rolling off his tongue like smooth butter “-for your…ah, Saint Valentine card, no?”

Fu—choose your words wisely—I mean, dear name of a historical contributor to the scientific or mathematical field who I can’t identify properly at this time.

“I fail to see how playing dress-up is going to help with this conundrum, Pinky Suavo.” Brain stood up and crossed his arms. He wasn’t about to let the Suavo persona sway him. He was the Brain, and he bowed to no one.

Exert control over the situation. Yes. That’s what he needed.

Suavo plucked the rose from his tail between two practiced fingers, inhaling its scent deeply. Where did he even get that rose from? The lab wasn’t growing flora for any reason, nor did any scientist have the green thumb to care for anything so fragile.

“Oh, but love is always…how did you say, a conundrum, is it not?” he purred, and Brain scowled. But Suavo was unperturbed. “One may pluck the petals from a pretty flower and ask if one loves or loves not, yet how will one know if they ask the flower and not the lover? Oh, I do not know.”

His voice dipped into a lower, softer register, and a strange sensation traveled up Brain’s spine. Though the riddle seemed directed at him, he wasn’t in the mood to unravel any cryptic meanings.

Just like before, Suavo’s magnetism was…hypnotizing. Like he had no choice but to do what Pinky Suavo said. And wasn’t that ironic? He, the Brain, as the hapless follower instead of the commanding leader.

Suavo appeared oblivious to Brain’s internal dilemma. He simply set the rose back into his tail and twirled one curled end of the mustache around his finger, humming a dreamy, sentimental song to himself. He was waiting on Brain in the most irritating fashion possible.

But if he wanted this plan to work, he’d just have to tolerate Pinky’s attempt at resolving his predicament.

“Pinky Suavo,” Brain sighed, forcing all his pride back. Suavo turned to him, his eyes still in that odd half-lidded position. “Is that overstuffed pincushion actually giving you ideas for the card?”

“Of course, mon ami.” Suavo slicked his ears and fur tuft back with a smooth, graceful stroke of his hand. “For it is he, who is I, who is the connoisseur of…ammooooouuuur.”

Brain grabbed his notepad and pencil, his stomach doing odd backflips like butterflies had somehow burrowed their way into his flesh and laid eggs there. He was not paying attention to Suavo’s hand movements. No, the eye was just naturally drawn to movement. That’s how it worked.

Besides, he was looking at the same being who once managed to get all his fingers and tail tangled up in a complicated cat’s cradle.

Suavo clicked his tongue, deftly plucking the items out of Brain’s grip. “No, no, you silly mouse. You cannot experience amour through pen and paper alone. You must feel it, see it, hear it. For it is everywhere and anywhere you search…if only you would use those big ears of yours.”

Brain gritted his teeth and jumped for his supplies, but Suavo simply held them out of reach with one long arm. All Brain could manage was a tiny hop. It wasn’t getting him anywhere.

So he took a deep breath and forced himself to relax.

“I’m listening, Pinky Suavo,” Brain said, hoping he sounded at least a little cordial. “I believe the colloquial is, I’m all ears?”

A pleased smile flitted across Suavo’s face, his arm lowering.

Perfect.

Then Brain threw himself forward, digging his hands and feet into Suavo’s clothing and hauling himself towards the notepad and pencil. Fortunately, it wasn’t hard to grip. Suavo stumbled a bit, but he refused to yield. Brain grabbed a fabric fold on Suavo’s right shoulder. He was so close-

-and a red nose pushed into his own. Warm, mint-scented breath tickled the fur on his face.

“You know, it is more, ah, polite to take a mouse to dinner before you begin climbing him, is it not?” Suavo crooned.

Brain’s ears flopped against his back, a warm sensation sweeping through his body. His clammy paws lost their grip on Suavo’s clothing, and he would’ve fallen entirely if Suavo’s free arm hadn’t wrapped around his waist and secured him with a strong yet gentle grip.

In hindsight, perhaps his attempt at reclaiming his belongings was ill-thought out.

Perhaps it was for the best that the arm was covered by fabric, but at the same time, some irrational thought of wanting Pinky’s fur against his own wormed its way into his mind.

Suavo set the notepad and pen down with care, dipping Brain in the process. Brain clutched the fabric tightly, but it was unnecessary. Suavo’s embrace was strong enough to prevent him from landing on his head. Then Suavo straightened up, once again plucking the rose from his tail and holding it next to Brain.

“Oh, now this is…magnifique,” Suavo murmured, his eyes darting from the rose to Brain’s face. Though Brain tried to maintain eye contact to make his displeasure known, his resolve was quickly crumbling away. Surely it was the close proximity, the thumb stroking his fur, that was picking apart all rational thought and leaving some hormone-driven creature behind?

“What?” Brain asked, and he inwardly cringed. His voice wasn’t working properly. He’d meant to sound more demanding than that pathetic excuse of a question.

“Your eyes, mon ami, are just a few shades lighter this rose,” Suavo said. Brain stared at him in disbelief. Comparing eyes to flowers, or worse, gemstones, was just ridiculous.

And your comparison of Pinky’s aesthetically pleasing eyes to the wild blue yonder above isn’t?

Brain ignored the contemptuous voice. That was completely different. The sky was neither a flower nor a gemstone, and therefore it wasn’t off-limits. Besides, it was a thought for him and him alone. It’s not like anyone else was going to hear it.

“You are but a deer mouse in the headlights. Yet there is no need to hide under a thorny layer,” Suavo hummed, tilting his head curiously. Deliberately. How strange. Even the slightest movement was mesmerizing. His fingers traveled up the flower stem, until his hand rested underneath the petals, supporting the tiny rose in the palm of his hand. “A rosebush may scratch and prick, yet the great Pinky Suavo cannot be swayed. For there’s a pretty bloom hidden in the darkness, and he is who moi shall…shall…NARF!”

Shocked by the return of the nonsensical exclamation, Brain lost his hold on Pinky Suavo’s clothing. He fell onto the counter surface with a pained groan. The hard material wasn’t doing wonders for the bends in his tail.

Something fluttered against his nose, causing Brain to sneeze again. He removed the offending object, and found himself staring down at the rose he’d been teased with. If he ignored the heavy-handed rose imagery Suavo kept spouting, it was rather adequate for a specimen.

“Narf! Zort! Poit! Egad!” Pinky laughed uncontrollably between his usual tics, uttering them at such a fast rate that they started to blend together like a tongue twister. “Ooh, I haven’t—troz! Haven’t said narf in a long time! But it’s poit—it’s okay cause you needed my help!”

Idiot.

Brain sighed and pushed himself to a standing position, then placed the rose on his notepad so Pinky could reclaim it later.

Now that he thought about it, Pinky hadn’t said any of his favorite syllables in his Suavo persona. Of course, they’d been replaced by stupid love poetry and gratuitous French, but the narfs and poits and zorts were rather refreshing.

Odd. He never thought he’d actually miss Pinky’s…unique diction.

“Pinky, were you actively suppressing your usual speech patterns in your strange form of assistance?” Brain asked. He couldn’t help his curiosity.

“Zort! Oh Brain, I’m not nearly as good as suppressing things like you are!” Pinky’s chortles continued as Brain grabbed his wrist and led him straight to the water bottle in their cage. “Besides—narf! Besides, I had to stay in character!”

“Remind me to never have you play a villain for any future plans revolving around cinema,” Brain grumbled.

Pinky’s tail happily flicked against Brain’s own. Though the imbecile was just swishing it around mindlessly, the brief physical contact suddenly brought back that very odd, warm sensation.

Curse this heightened sensitivity! It’s only a principle of thermodynamics and heat transfer!

“Brain, are you okay? Poit,” Pinky asked as Brain made him sit down in front of the water bottle. “You’re all woozy and whirlywindy. And white and red all over like a newspaper!”

“I’m f-fine,” Brain said. He was absolutely not relying on Pinky for balance. “Just drink, Pinky. And take off those silly clothes when you’re done.”

Pinky stared, not comprehending anything Brain said, but that was normal for him. Then he started to laugh, and only then did Brain realize he needed to watch his word choice, especially around a certain someone, because of course his fluff-filled mind would misconstrue it.

“Not like that!” Brain spat.

Pinky tipped onto his back, legs kicking upwards as his high-pitched laughter continued to assault Brain’s ears.

For the sake of his own sanity, he left Pinky to his own devices and stormed over to the nearest sink. He pushed on the tap for cold water until he’d created his own miniature waterfall, then hopped right in. He welcomed the cascade over his body.

As long as it pushed his homeostasis in the opposite direction, he was fine with resembling a drowned rat for now.

o-o-o-o-o

The plan failed before it ever took off. Brain had been so distracted that he’d failed to notice the lab was completely out of colored ink, rendering the copy machines completely useless.

He’d gone with the ‘you’re the sour cream to my potatoes’ message for the front cover, formatting it into the speech bubble in an elegant cursive font. Though it wasn’t conventional by any means, he simply considered it again since no other suggestions were forthcoming.

But at the same time, part of him wasn’t keen on allowing the masses to lay eyes on the Valentine card.

It seemed special. Unexplainably so.

“Brain?” Pinky called. His verbal tics had long gone back to their normal frequency. “Aren’t we taking over the world tonight?”

Brain shook his head, relieved that he finally had control over his body again. “Not tonight, Pinky. I’m afraid I’ve been prematurely thwarted by the lack of inventory in this lab.��

“Oh, you don’t have to be afraid, Brain,” Pinky said. Gone were Suavo’s clothing and mustache, and Pinky’s lean, muscular arms were on full display as he folded them across his chest. “I’ll protect you from Tory.”

It was an unnecessary gesture, but Brain couldn’t help but be touched by the admission all the same. Brain made a show of carefully placing the card into storage, just so he could distract himself momentarily.

When he finished his task, he found Pinky holding an elegant paper rose, crafted meticulously with purple tissue paper. A light blush settled over Brain’s cheeks as he accepted the gift from Pinky, whose blue eyes shone brightly as Brain ran his fingers over the soft petals.

“Thank you, Pinky,” Brain said gratefully, and he resisted the urge to rush off immediately and place the paper rose with his globe keychain, another gift from his dearest friend.

“You’re welcome!” Pinky smiled, and Brain’s heart beat faster. Then Pinky’s gaze flicked to the TV screen, and Brain figured he was about to be roped into watching a cheesy love story unfold. “Brain, can we watch Beauty and the Beast please? With those special Valentine M&M’s and chocolate-coated popcorn? I saw a whole bunch in the kitchen! Narf!”

Well…he could’ve suggested worse. At least this one was tolerable.

And it’s been a while since they’d watched a movie together.

“Get everything set up, Pinky,” Brain ordered. “I’ll join you when I’m finished with my own tasks.”

Pinky saluted and scampered into the kitchen, grabbing the rose he’d held in his Suavo persona along the way. He sang at the top of his lungs, though he’d forgotten most of the actual words and replaced them with a series of narfs and portmanteaus. Once Pinky was sufficiently distracted, Brain moved his notepad and pen over to the TV, then laid the paper rose over it.

He heard the crinkle of a bag followed by the sound of M&M’s being poured into a bowl. Pinky would be back any minute.

Brain knocked his head against the side of a wall.

Calm yourself. Pinky believes pebbles are precious gifts. You’ll be fine. Probably.

Slowly, he approached the drawer where he’d kept his hidden present. Sifting through several sheets of paper covered with complex formulas he’d deliberately placed in there to ward off Pinky, he found the sunflower pen he’d carefully hidden towards the back.

It wasn’t exactly…traditional for a Valentine’s gift. Simple blue ink with a green body and tipped with a bright yellow sunflower.

But it was bright. And colorful. Like Pinky.

More importantly, it was practical.

Brain’s ears twitched, and he heard the whirring of the VCR as Pinky popped in the movie. Brain debated leaving the pen and presenting it after the movie, but he didn’t want to procrastinate either. Otherwise it would be impossible to enjoy their activity.

Well, he could just drop it in Pinky’s lap. And snatch up some popcorn so his actions wouldn’t be too conspicuous. He climbed out of the drawer, holding the pen behind his back.

A preview for The Little Mermaid began to play. Pinky was enraptured by the animated marine animals. He seemed so happy.

Maybe he should reconsider. Valentine items would be discounted next week. He could just hold off and give a belated…what was he thinking? Valentine’s was just another day to turn profit!

The paper rose was sitting right there. No…Valentine’s meant something to Pinky. Like Christmas.

“Goody, you’re back, Brain!” Pinky cheered, stuffing two pink M&M’s into his mouth. The large bowl beside him was overflowing with chocolate. “It’s not raining inside, but I love your parasol! Where’d you buy it?”

A parasol?

He glanced up at the sunflower. Oh. So there was a resemblance to a parasol, he supposed. If one viewed it at a certain angle, that is.

“It’s a pen. Not a parasol. Take it,” Brain said, holding out the sunflower pen.

Pinky didn’t take it.

Instead, he made a joyful noise and crushed Brain with a flying embrace. Brain dropped the pen in surprise as Pinky’s entire body curled around him, feet off the ground. Brain had to support all his weight, Pinky’s warm fur brushing against his own.

“I love it! Loveitloveitloveit! Thanks, Brain!” Pinky squealed, happy tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

“You’re welcome, Pinky,” Brain murmured as Pinky nuzzled his cheek. “Now get off. I require my lungs. And heart. And my digestive system.”

Pinky didn’t get off until the Disney fanfare to herald the beginning of the movie began to play. Then he quieted down immediately, rolling the sunflower pen so that it rested across his lap.

“…happy Valentine’s Day,” Brain whispered, nibbling on a red M&M.

Pinky smiled back, teeth flecked with bits of chocolate. He shushed Brain, not wanting him to interrupt the opening narration.

As the enchanted rose appeared onscreen, Brain stroked the soft tissue paper of Pinky’s beautiful creation. Then he set it aside and reached for some popcorn.

His world was here. And there was nothing more he wanted.

Fun fact: the original name for this fic was going to be Suavo Valentino, but the current title was a last minute change cause somehow I just wrote a lot about roses.

Another change: The Princess Bride bit was originally a dig at High School Musical and how Disney Channel has bad romance in general, but since that was mid 2000s I changed it so this story could reasonably fit in the 90s.

Suavo’s lines...were interesting. I couldn’t stop laughing at how dumb some of them were though.

Brain’s got it bad here. Save him.

Are the roses corny? Yes. Do I care? Not really. Maybe. Possibly.

#pinky and the brain #patb fanfiction #pinky suavo #suavo sunday

59 notes · View notes

iamdunn · 3 years

Text

Miraculous Flash Forward part 8: Secrets

A Miraculous Fan-Fic

Written By

AJ Dunn

The team had dispersed into the crowd leaving Cat Noir still standing on the stage. He watched his friends dance with his other, secret friends. He knew Nino and Alya were Carapace and Rena Rouge, that Luka was Viperion and He suspected Purple Tigress to be Juleka. As he watched them it all began to make sense in his head. His Closest friends were also his secret friends. He smiled because if he was right, he knew all of their secret identities but they didn’t know his. He had his secrets, and they had theirs, but it was so obvious right now, watching them. He lost sight of Ladybug as he mused over the others.

“Looking for someone.” Ladybug popped up behind him. He was standing on the side of the stage so Jagged could watch his fans as he played for them.

“Can we go somewhere private to talk,” he spoke into her ear. She nodded taking his hand and leading him off the back of the stage through the tent then swung her yo-yo at the balcony above the bakery. Funny, how she had chosen this spot of all places. He couldn’t help but smirked as he thought about all the times he had been on this balcony with her, with Marinette, as himself, as Cat Noir.

“Down here.” She lifted the hatch and dropped into the room where Marinette’s bed used to be. Looking around the room as he followed her he realized it was no longer a bedroom rather a workshop. Racks with hanging clothes, boxes her sewing table, and more filled the room. Ladybug led him to the chaise lounge. Where he sat down next to her. Their hips pulled snugly together as the chaise wasn’t as big as it used to be. Given how much each of them had grown.

Cat took a deep breath, he could smell the vanilla on her. He closed his eyes and swallowed back his emotions.

“What are you thinking about.” She scratched his chin playfully. He let out a tiny purr at the action. He never understood how he did that, but it was only while he was transformed. Maybe it was Plagg.

“You.” He said clearly. “The secrets we have kept from one another all these years, and…”

“And what Kitty.” He looked down at her and smirked. “Well, I guess you’re not so much a Kitty anymore Cat.” She chuckled.

“I took a new name.” He told her changing the subject. He wasn’t sure where he wanted this conversation to go, but he knew he needed to let her in on his new life somehow.

“Oh…?” She sat back looking up at him in a way confused.

“I also have, a new suit,” he said beaming at her. “Wanna see?” Ladybug giggled then walked over to the light switch and flicked it. The room brightened up more than he would have imagined. He stood up and closed his eyes, picturing her design as light filled the room from his toes to his head. When the light died down he opened his eyes to see her hands covering her mouth, eyes wide with surprise. She walked over and began to inspect every crease and fold, every seam, and even the hood. Her attention to detail was a clue to her whole being. “Check this out.” he lifted his belt tail up showing her the signature.

“How…” She mumbled taking his tail in her hands running her thump over the Marinette signature. She looked up at him with awe, her cheeks flushed. “Plagg taught me how.” He smiled. “He said when we first transform, the design of our costume is based on our image of the kwami. Aspik was different from Viperon, Multimouse and Polymouse and even Queen Bee vs Vesperia.”

“Master Fu and Carapace.” Ladybug added.

“Now, Cat Noir and Hei Mao.” she smiled up at him.

“How much you have changed.” she mused. “I haven’t heard a single cat pun this whole time.”

“I’m pawsome I know, but your purrrfect.” He said in jest. She shoved him a bit. “I just studied the costume you designed for the competition.”

“How did you?”

“Felix.” he pointed to his eyes. “Was wearing special glasses that allowed me to see everything as he inspected the costume. I tried it out and it worked better than I thought.” He smiled at her then noticed her face was frozen.

“You said I designed.” Ladybug took a step back. Cat took her by the hand pulling her back as he shook his head.

“Don’t pull away from me.” He pulled her against his chest holding her until his heart slowed down. He pulled her back to the chaise sitting down he pulled her onto his lap. She didn’t fight as she sat sideways on him. He pulled her right arm over his neck then tipped her chin up with his right hand. “I know you love me too, you just don’t know it yet.” He watched her lips as he gently pulled closer to them. His eyes closed as he closed the gap between them. He half expected her to lift a finger to his lips to stop him, but when he felt her lips on his. He knew he was right. Their lips melted into each other as they parted their mouths slightly taking in the full depth of the kiss. Cat dropped his right arm to her hip, his left arm around her back, holding her close to him as she wrapped her left arm around his neck to meet her other hand Time froze in that moment.

“Who are you?” Ladybug finally asked as they parted. He pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes still closed.

“Are you sure you want to know?” he whispered.

“Now, more than ever, I need to know.”

“Do I get to know who you are?” While he was certain he knew, he wanted her to show him.

“I’m sure you’ll just be disappointed.” She sighed turning her head away from him. He pulled her head back as he returned her forehead to his. He kept his eyes closed not sure it hers were open or not.

“Close your eyes.” He whispered. “Plagg, claws in.” He felt the tingle through his body as Plagg zipped out.

“Tikki, spots off.” they sat in silence. Adrien’s mind whirling through all the memories all of the moments they spent in this position. So close yet so far apart, unable to truly know each other unable to see exactly who’s hands they were putting their lives in. He could hear her heart beating heavily in tune with his own. The shivers going down his spine as he sat with his most trusted partner, fully exposed in all his vulnerability and weakness, all his flaws laid bare for her to see.

“I feel like a teenager again.” She whispered.

“Butterflies in your stomach?” he whispered back, as a statement of fact and a question.

“I can’t…” she swallowed. “Breath.”

“Just all the other times as kids when we could have found out could have uncovered the most coveted secret, yet…”

“The most dangerous one of all.” She finished. They weren’t kids anymore, now. It was time to open their eyes. He wasn’t sure who opened their eyes first but when he saw her and his suspicions proved true, he was amused by the look of shock on her face.

“Surprise?” He winced. Her face softened into a smile as she flicked his nose.

“I am so glad we never found out as kids.” Stood up and walked in circles around the room with her face in her hands.

“I knew it was. How did you not figure out that it was me?”

“I mean, I suspected but only when both you and Cat Noir disappeared on the same day, then returned on the same day.” She said. “How did you figure it out.”

“There is no possible way, I could feel this strongly about two different women at the same time.” he teased reaching out for her only to miss as she backed up. “Why is it a good thing you didn’t know when we were kids?”

“I was a babbling mess whenever I was around you!” She slapped her face a couple of times then returned to pacing. “Remember when I gave you Sass?” she stopped walking to look at him.” He nodded. “It wasn’t your fault we failed so many times, I was a complete mess daydreaming the whole time.” Now it was Adrien’s turn to blush. “Had I know that my partner, the boy who put his life in my hands, was the same boy I tripped all over ALL the time, why we would have failed within the first week.” She giggled into her hands and returned to pacing.

“So, you wouldn’t allow yourself to even fathom it was me, because if you thought for one second, you’d get…’

“Flustered yes.” He grabbed her finally pulling her back to his lap. He held her tight against him with her head tucked under his. Then he began to laugh. “What?”

“What if I knew your secret, but you didn’t know mine? Then I would have sought after Marinette instead of Ladybug and you would have gotten over your clumsiness with me.”

Marinette pulled back from him looking serious and even a bit distraught.

“You did find out.” She shook her head. “Somehow, you did.” Shock bolted through his body as yet another secret she kept from him had finally been exposed.

“What? When.” He could feel knots well up in his stomach. She had his first kiss, and the memory of it, which was something he would never have. She kept far more of him than he knew.

“When you saw me dropping off your gift in your room?” He thought back to Saint Athanasius’ day. “You figured it out then.”

“Wait, I remember that day very clearly, and I…”

“You ended up akumatized for some reason, that even I don’t know all the answers to it, I had to fight you but then…” she held a fist to her heart. “You called me Marinette and you destroyed the world, killed everyone in Paris, and said it was our love that did it.” He swallowed hard.

“If I knew you, and I had your love, what could have made me do that?” he said in horror. “How do you not know what happened.”

“Bunnix found me, took me into her burrow, and showed me the outcome, only minutes after I saw you in your room. I originally signed the package Marinette, but my Lucky Charm erased it all, and I erased my name so you wouldn’t figure it out.” He slid her off his lap onto the chaise then stood up. It was his turn to pace.

“So in this alternate timeline, I found out who you were, we fell in love and I destroyed the world. So that must mean.” he paused looking out the window. “It just wasn’t time for us yet.” He willed his emotions to subside as he focused on his breathing. Though Hawk Moth was gone, focusing his breathing and controlling his emotions were the only way he got through the days after his father was arrested. It would have been a nice skill to prevent him from being akumatized since he was one of the few who didn’t have a magical charm to protect him. “It wasn’t the first time Hawkmoth used me to hurt you.” he turned back to her.

“He’s gone now, Adrien.” She whimpered.

“What does that mean for us?” he squatted down in front of her.

“Look at us Adrien, Lady Bug is the ONLY person who knows who Cat Noir is.”

“And what about Ladybug, who else knows about her.” Marinette swallowed.

“You have to understand how hard it was to be so alone as the guardian and how much I needed someone to talk to through it all.”

“Luka.” he snorted then stood up.

“Alya.” She replied. He took a deep breath realizing it would have been her. “She continued to use Trixx to cover my tracks so that Hawk Moth couldn’t follow me, or your or any of the others. She made illusions to lead him astray and watched out for him in case he ever showed his face. That is how we were able to find out where he was hiding.”

“The tunnels through the sewer. “ he remembered how they tracked him down there and followed him to the secret room where he kept Emelie cocooned. They had battled him there, only to discover after removing both miraculous’ from him that he was Gabriel. Cat Noir had run away to his bedroom before anyone else could see him leave. He ran away from the fight, his friends, and his father.

“Are you keeping any other secrets.” He whispered.

“Only the identities of the other holders.” He scoffed

“I already know them.” He said, then named them all off. He looked at Marinette as she looked up shocked. It was easy to figure out once I got passed the fact that Miraculous queen exposed most of them, that you used you trusted your friends, you even gave me one not knowing who I was.” He placed a hand on his chest. “Do you… Love ME?” he asked squatting down infront of her again. He saw her face blush as a single tear began to fall.

“I always will.” She whispered. He wondered why she was crying and hoped he hadn’t hurt her. He was feeling the weight of betrayal. He had to focus on his breathing again before he lost control of his emotions.

“You don’t even know me?” He exclaimed.

“I knew everything about you from your schedule to…”

“You knew Adrien Agreste, or the facade that was perfectly designed by Gabriel Agreste. You love the picture-perfect boy who Paris named the Sunshine boy.” he snorted then stood up. “Until today, you couldn’t even bring yourself to accept the possibility of me being Cat, a persona you didn’t love.” His heart ached so much as he said the words. “You, Marinette, with your midnight hair, and your gorgeous eyes, your strong personality who could rally the troops when times got tough but gave all of yourself for your friends….” He paused looking out the window. “You were perfect, and I imagine you have changed a bit.” He looked back at her to see her face flushed.

“I loved Cat too, I just was…”

“Blinded by the sunshine boy?” He snorted.

“I fell in love with a girl in my class, on my first day of class,” he said softly. “She was fierce, she nearly tore me apart for something I didn’t even do, but she didn’t back down. She put Chloe in her place.” he laughed. “She was kind and generous, but she was true. So honest and despite her alibi’s being lame, she was our everyday Ladybug,” he smirked at her.

“They weren’t lame.” She scoffed

“They were lame.” he laughed squatting in front of her again holding her by the arms. “I loved how cute you were when you were flustered, how you tried to find the right words and messed them all up again, like when I saw your bedroom on TV.” Her face went beat red. “The totographs you called them?”

“I… was…”

“Madly clumsy.” he laughed. “I know, you told me the first time you crashed into me as Ladybug.” I had suspected for a long time, but…” he sighed. “The point is, I know you but you don’t know me.”

“I want to know.” She whimpered again.

“I have secrets too. Some I can’t share with you because they’re not mine to tell you.” He said softly. “I have a life in Shanghai, kids I teach, and I can’t stay here.” He hung his head. “I love you Marinette, but I can’t stay here. Especially after everything that my father did, it’s hard enough staying in my old house.”

“Then why did you come back?” She sobbed.

“To clear the air, between us, and…”

“And what?”

“Offer to return Plagg.”

“You already know I won’t force you to give him back.” She pressed her forehead his the top of his. “It should be his choice.”

“Ma Marinette?” Plagg stuttered. “Do you mean that?”

“Plagg, go,” Tikki said as the two hovered in the air above them. “And maybe Marinette and I could visit Shanghai for a while so she can get to know the man Adrien has become.” Marinette and Adrien both looked up at the Kwami’s. Tikki shrugged.

“I’ll do it.” Marinette cheered. “I’ll get a small studio apartment so I can do my work from there just as I do here, besides.” She said. “After the wedding tomorrow I am going to be losing my roommate. A smile grew mischievously onto Adrien’s face.

“You know princess…” He took one of her hands to his lips placing a kiss on her knuckles. “I could use a roommate, as long as you can cook better than me.” His smile brightened.

“Don’t put that stipulation on her unless you don’t want her to move in with you.” Plagg scoffed.

“Thanks for that Plagg, I love it when you compliment me sarcastically.” He smirked, “Besides, all of the kwami would be together.”

“Except…” She shifted her eyes, “Trixx and Sass.

“You let Luka keep Sass.” Adrien’s eyes rolled.

“Sass thought it would be a good idea.”

“Doesn’t he have kids now?”

“Yes, twins, and no they don’t know about him.” Marinette was confident that it was still safe.

“Anyway, if your serious about coming to Shanghai, even if it is for a short time, Let me know, I am serious about you becoming my roommate.” He stood up and gazed out the window. “Maybe we should head back and rejoin our friends before two more of them get married and have kids.”

“Plagg claws out.”

“Tikki, spots on.”

As they were leaving the balcony they could hear Tom opening the hatch.

“Marinette, is that you are you in here?” they both laughed quietly then headed back to the party.

#miraculous fandom #miraculous chat noir #ladynoir #adrienette #miraculous ladybug #marichat #miraculous world #felix graham de vanily #Adrien Graham De Vanily #miraculous fanfic

13 notes · View notes

fromthedeskofelizabeththird · 3 years

Text

Habanero

You're a good girl, well behaved.

Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.

Until you are.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Aizawa x Reader, Present Mic x Reader, a sprinkling of Erasermic and eventual polyamorous Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Some explicitness towards the end

Trigger Warnings: None in this chapter.

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

Chapter: 11/16 (all chapters)

Hizashi was used to staying awake long into the morning. He was also used to sharing his bed with one night stands.

For some reason, though, something felt different about it when it was you.

He had been tired from sex and relaxed from the bathtub, yet when he laid beside you he couldn’t look away, much less sleep. After your long soak together, he had gotten you an oversized shirt to wear from his wardrobe and stroked your hair until you fell asleep.

Even then, wearing nothing but a shirt with his face on, you still reminded him of a kitten.

He considered it as you took the train back to your place, watching your reflection in the windows. Every so often you stifled yawns and scratched your eyes, the steady rhythm of the train carriage lulling you into sleep. You rested your head on his shoulder without meaning to, only to jump start awake whenever the train came to a stop.

You looked so innocent while you slept and he couldn’t believe he had slept with you only a matter of hours before this. It was possibly the furthest thing from his mind when he left the restaurant to find you, let alone when he got dressed to go out.

He wanted to discuss it with you while it was still fresh in your minds. It had been a long day for everyone and he didn’t doubt that the next one would be longer, but what had happened between you was too important to leave buried between the sheets.

He reached out for your arm as you got to your stop, oddly concerned that you would fall asleep on your feet. You blushed at the contact though didn’t shrug him off, cheeks still peppered with colour as you unlocked your front door.

Hizashi had never been to your apartment before and didn’t know what to expect, his curiosity on the matter giving him a new lease of life.

“I’ll make some tea,” you said, pointing out a dinner table and couch, “make yourself at home.”

Hizashi didn’t sit down. Instead, while you pottered around in the kitchen, he took the chance to look around, leaning over to examine the photographs on your walls and bookshelves.

“Is this you?” he asked, picking up a particular frame.

“Oh,” you glanced across. “Yes, haha. It was taken a long time ago, though!”

It was a photograph of a younger looking you at your high school graduation, standing with your mother, father and older brother. Hizashi hadn’t given much thought to what your family might be like, only that the photograph in his hand didn’t match the image in his mind. Your father was tall and broad shouldered, with cold, searching eyes. Your mother was slight and had clearly been beautiful in her youth, though she glared out at the camera as if whoever took the photograph had gravely insulted her. Your brother was the perfect combination of them both, handsome and tall, with a sharp jawline and serious expression. He had on a perfectly tailored suit and held his arms behind his back, rigidly standing up straight as if someone had given him a forceful boot to the rear seconds before taking the photo.

There was no warmth in any of them, not even you. You stood as rigidly as they did, positioned between your mother and father like a hostage. Hizashi glanced back at the person rummaging through the cupboards for cups and then at the photograph, trying and failing to match up the girl in the picture to the one he knew.

“Now then,” you said, resting a tea tray on your kitchen table and pouring two cups, “about...earlier..”

He set down the photograph and joined you at the table, accepting the cup you held out to him.

“I...ummm...Where would you like to go from here?”

He scratched his moustache out of habit, searching his brain for the right words. An hour or so ago, he wouldn’t have been so sure of his answer, but now that the dust had settled only one outcome made sense.

“Nowhere.”

He didn’t miss the flash of panic in your eyes, a moment of self doubt that you might have done something wrong, and reached out to touch your hand across the table.

“Don’t think too much about it,” he said. “It’s just...you said you forgot who you were outside of your old relationship, right?”

You nodded.

“It wouldn’t be right for me to push you into one now,” he said. “I want you at nothing less than 100%. 25% (Name) is a hottie. 100% (Name)...”

He sucked in a deep breath and reached out his hands, framing your face in his fingers.

“...100% (Name) should have a warning label,” he said. “And, hey, after that performance? I’d say you’re well on your way to 30%.”

You spat out your tea at that.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you said. “All I get is 5% ? How many guys do I have to sleep with to get to 100?”

“They don’t have to be different guys,” he said, waggling his eyebrows. “Could be the same guy over and over .”

“You’re terrible.”

“You’re cute.”

“You...are giving me really mixed signals right now.”

He smirked and took a sip of tea, silently acknowledging that you had a point.

“Tomorrow,” he said, “well...in a few hours...I won’t mention it again unless you do.”

“Like... a reset?”

You said it as if it had significance, though he didn’t know why.

“Yes, yes,” he said, “exactly like a reset!”

You laughed bitterly and for a moment he wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. It lasted only a moment, though, and you set down your cup with a smile.

“A reset sounds good,” you said, though the smile didn’t quite meet your eyes.

~~~~

He stayed a while longer, engaging in small talk as he finished off his tea.

He reached into his pockets as he got to his feet, dragging out his hair band and tidying up his bun. It was early, sure, but if Nemuri was right and the media really were on high alert, the last thing he wanted was photos of him looking so tired in mass circulation.

He stretched out the band, only to curse as it snapped.

“Hey, (Name),” he said. “Do you have any hair ties?”

You poked your head around the kitchen door, midway through running the tap.

“Uhhh...sure...I usually keep some in my bedroom cupboard,” you said. “Help yourself, it’s just through there.”

“Thank you,” he said, following your directions into the bedroom and realising the flaw in your instructions within seconds. You had mentioned them being in your bedroom cupboard, though hadn’t specified which one.

He opened the one nearest your bed, then the one nearest your window, all to no avail.

Maybe he had misheard you?

He opened your wardrobe door, going over your directions and struggling to think of a single misunderstanding.

“(Name),” he called out, “wh------”

He fell silent, noticing a familiar flash of colour.

No. No, surely not…

He pulled out the dress, stomach falling through the floor.

It couldn’t be. It had to be a mistake.

“Having fun?” you asked, poking your head through the door.

“This dress,” he said, “it’s l-lovely. You have excellent taste.”

“You think so? I was thinking of getting rid of it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you said, stroking the fabric with a fond expression. “I hooked up with a guy the only time I ever wore it and I can’t look at it now without thinking of him.”

He had to be wrong. He had to be.

He thought back to your first day, the conversation you had had in the izakaya.

I was seeing someone. We were together for years, actually, but we broke up a little over six months ago.

His mouth ran dry as he remembered the conversation he had had with the bartender at Ego .

She was here about six months ago. Had drinks with Eraser. I was hoping you’d remember her.

It had to be a coincidence. There were hundreds of single women in Musutafu, any of whom could have bought the same dress.

“Oh, did...did you go anywhere nice?”

“My friends dragged me along to a nightclub in town,” you said, blushing luridly. “ Ego .”

You looked up into his face the moment you said it, suddenly looking more than a little bit concerned.

“Are you okay? You’ve gone really pale.”

You reached up to touch a hand to his forehead and he flinched without meaning to.

It was the hand Shouta had reached for; one that had almost certainly explored his body.

“I...I’m fine,” he stammered, thrusting the dress back towards you. “It’s a nice dress, you should keep it! Okay, then, bye!”

He rushed out of your bedroom and through the front door before you could say another word, forgetting all about his broken hair tie and even the incident at Hosu. He caught the train on autopilot, watching and rewatching the video on his phone of Shouta and the woman from Ego . Now that he knew it was you, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed earlier. Your posture, the way the dress clung to your body...there was no one else it could have been.

He remembered your moans of pleasure and how good it had felt to be inside you, unable to distract himself from his own morbid curiosity. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, dozens of scenarios coming to mind and all of them involving you and Shouta naked.

He imagined Shouta’s lips on yours; your sigh of pleasure as you took his cock.

He switched off the video and loaded music instead, trying to drown out the niggling thought at the back of his mind.

He was jealous, though had no idea which of you he envied more.

#bnha #aizawa x reader #present mic x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #yamada hizashi x reader #habanero

46 notes · View notes

rreeaahh · 3 years

Text

Noble Chantage | Fred Weasley (02)

CHAPTER 2 - “It’s Queen for you, Weasley”

WORD COUNT - 2,406

SUMMARY - After having a fit of anger, you realize that, after all, some people near you are meant to make life easier.

WARNINGS - angst; flirt; a little swearing

TAGLIST (message me if you want to be added) - @lucymfer @prongsyy @famdomhideout @anywherebuthere @garyluly

“I can’t believe you just said that!”

Laughing, I continued to run my fingers in Cedric’s hair, messing with his warm, brown locks.

“You’re the one who mentioned his name,” I said in my defense, which only made him frown his brows.

I looked down at him, his head on my lap. Cedric Diggory was a handsome boy and every girl on Hogwarts would’ve killed to be in my place in that moment. My index went down to his face, tracing the shape of his nose, stopping to his bottom lip and then going up to the other one. His soft and sweet lips were the ones which convinced me to stay to his side two years ago, when he kissed the back of my hand after walking me to my Common Room. For already two years Cedric Diggory was spoiling me with his attention, far from people’s eyes. It was nearly a miracle how our nearly-but-not-really-relationship stayed a secret that long. We met in the library, and he got my attention with his manners – very polite and he knew to respect a girl. He walked me to my Common Room every time we’ve met and sometimes I could’ve received flowers from him – daisies, his favorites – something very important in my opinion. Mat’ taught me that a true gentleman is the one who knows how to get his way to your heart subtle, without you realizing it.

“And you’re the one who said he’s handsome – I thought you didn’t like Quidditch that much.”

“My father’s a big fan of him, so I guess I know something about him in particular,” I smiled devilish, watching the jealousy growing on his face.

“D’you like him because he’s Russian? Does it have something to do with your DNA or something?”

“Cedric!” I laughed and slapped his chest gently. “Viktor Krum’s Bulgarian.”

He rolled his eyes. “Same thing, Y/N,” he said. “You fancy him and your dad likes him, that git.”

I knew he was joking, putting that much hate on the name of a famous Quidditch player – but he was funny playing the victim and he only wanted me to have a good time with him, always putting a smile on my face.

“Maybe if your dad would see me playing he’d like me too,” he whispered, playing with the end of my hair between his fingers.

Cedric had those jokes – I preferred to think of them as jokes – he wanted to mention his name to my parents, to tell them my sympathy for the Hufflepuff boy.

I pulled out the air in my lungs and looked away from his face. “Don’t start it again, Ced,” I asked him, already exhausted at the thought of that topic.

“Aren’t you tired of hiding?” he questioned and got up, looking me in the eyes. “Because I am.”

“It’s not like I have a choice,” I sighed and closed my eyes. When I opened them, he was still watching me.

“You do have a choice, Y/N, but you’re not choosing me.”

The accusation hit me like a punch in the stomach – his eyes were dark, nearly black, and I was asking myself if he was sad or mad.

“You don’t understand, Cedric,” I said in the same tonality, hoping to make him give up.

“I do understand your family, but I don’t understand why aren’t you saying something – you’re keeping me a secret for almost two years.”

“What do you want me to say? You want me to tell them I’m madly in love with you and there’s nothing they can do?” I snorted, rolling my eyes which made him even angrier, somehow. I guess I have this hidden talent: to make people angry, and then angrier. “Besides, it’s not like you’re shouting out loud how much time you spend with me, or how much you tell me I’m the best in everything!”

He was amused, I could tell by the way his eyes went smaller, in an almond shape. “You are the one who’s telling me to not tell people! You think I don’t want to tell all those gits who are drooling over you that you’re mine?”

Part of his words were truth: I directly told him to never tell anyone, I even made him swear to me and I told him that I’m a revengeful witch, so I wouldn’t forgive him if he’d broke his promise. But he still was somehow wrong. The gits who are drooling after me, as he called them, are the ones who provided me so much fame in a short time; being a nice looking girl, being unapproachable, made me who I am in Hogwarts – so my reputation, the way my last name was known in that school, was because the boys wanted me and the girls wanted to be me. It took me a while to be comfortable with that idea, but mat’ made sure I’d understand something: I’m a Rosier, people would always want something from me.

“Oh, Cedric,” I laughed and I got up, moving in the small compartment to the window and then to the door – it was a strange habit of mine, “Do you think I’m yours?”

The mean smile on my face made him confused, and that made me smile brighter. “What?”

“Yeah, no, I think it’s cute,” I added and stayed in front of him. “To think that you own me, when we both know it’s not true.”

“You know what I meant, Y/N,” he said exhausted, but he knew very well how much he fucked up the situation.

When I was away from home, I was free: nobody’d tell me what to do, what to say or wear directly, so I wasn’t very pleased to hear that he considered me his property in any way. “I know one think very well, Diggory,” I said in a cold voice, “You don’t own me. In fact,” I laughed, “you couldn’t afford me. Who do you think you are?”

He wasn’t expecting that kind of response from me, that was sure, but he said nothing as I continued to walk. “You want me to tell my parents about you? Tell them what? Mat’, papa, this is Cedric Diggory,” I started a fake speech, laughing, “He’s a very good Quidditch player, papa, he’s in Hufflepuff, he’s in love with me, clearly, but oh, Merlin, he’s too blind to see that he’s also a toy of mine!” I ended rising my hands up in the air.

He was frozen. “What?” was all he could whisper, searching my eyes to look for a little sparkle.

“C’mon, Ced,” I pouted my lips, “Don’t tell me you think that I could see you more than a waste of time! You’re nice, don’t get me wrong.”

“You’re just mad,” he said confident in his words, “You don’t mean it, Y/N, you always talk shit when you’re angry.”

“If that’s so, don’t you think that I’d make ‘our relation’”, I drew the commas in the air, “public? At least at school? Oh, no, darling,” I laughed again, finding very funny that idea, “I don’t show off every toy I get, you know?”

The devilish smile on my lips was erased by the tip of his wand, pointed to my face. “Get out,” he demanded, not even looking at me.

“You’re threatening me?” I asked, holding back my laugh.

“Don’t make me do something I’d regret, Rosier,” he said, now looking at me with a hurt expression.

With a fast move of my hand, I was in the possession of my Reed Wood wand, casting an unspoken spell which made his wand come to me. I took it in my left hand, smiling proudly. “I think you forget who you’re dealing with, love,” I said in a mocking tone, the expression on his face giving me chills all over my spine – he was mad, hurt, annoyed: it made me sad and satisfied at the same time.

“I’ll go now only because I want to,” I clarified and opened the door, “Because nobody tells me what to do, and nobody should point their wand at me, Cedric,” I said in a serious tone, “I thought you’d know better,” I spat and threw his wand at his feet, careful not to damage it, and I closed the door after me, striking it to its frame.

I hated so much that he was right: when mad, I’d tell a lot of shits which were only meant to hurt the person I’d be arguing with. It was a flaw of mine, the short temper, but it hurt me very much to see him pointing his wand at me, wanting to hurt me or at least show me he’d be stronger. As long as I’d have my wand in my hand, nobody could be stronger: my mother always told me that she knew, deep down, that I’d be the strongest witch in my family, especially after I inherited my grandmother’s wand, which had a Dragon Heartstring core.

Even if my words were meant to hurt him, I realized they had something true behind: I knew very well that a relationship with someone who’s not a Pureblood Slytherin was worthless – in the end I wouldn’t have my parents’ approval and they’d eventually find me a husband, something I was still trying to prevent, somehow. Maybe Cedric was a toy for me – a fun thing to distract myself from all the craziness I’ve had in my world. To distract me from my parents’ authority and to give me a sense of leadership. I immediately erased that idea from my mind: my sense of leadership was not given by him; I was a leader, I had people that respected me and I had the authority myself. Hogwarts was the place where I was the Queen, I only needed to remember that.

All the thoughts made me go blind of what was happening in front of me, that explaining why I was hit by a body and than laying down to the metal floor, surrounded by small and colored balls. I was thinking about myself like a God, so that kind of interruption made me boiling mad.

“Are you alright?” asked a voice and a similar one responded before I could even move.

“I don’t think she is, mate.”

I got up, fast, ignoring the pain my ribs were feeling after falling on them, because I didn’t know what amount of skin was shown by my skirt. “Of course it’s you two,” I said in a sour voice, frowning my brows at the sight of the Weasley twins. They were nothing else but trouble and I was lucky enough to have every single class with them.

“It’s just Rosier, Georgie,” Fred said in a bored tone, gaining a slight punch in his shoulder by his brother.

“Are you ok?” George asked in his always kind way. He was acceptable, only a pawn in his brother’s plans, which he followed loyal. Fred, on the other hand, was eyeing me unimpressed by my presence.

To say we hated each other was a big thing: we only wanted to be better than each other. I knew he wanted to be more popular than me by doing all those silly pranks and coming with those crazy ideas, and being in the school’s newspaper was a big deal for both of us. At every big event the little Gryffindor kid – who’s name I could never remember – would be present, would take a photo and then other students, mainly Ravenclaws helped by Hufflepuffs, would write a spicy story, enough to make the whole school to talk about that subject until the next edition. I was the main protagonist when it came about drama, a new jewelry or my performance at the Duelling Club, along with my grades, and he and his twin would be on the front page after doing some crazy shit.

“Good enough to hex your brother,” I said to George, not even looking at Fred. Giving him as little attention as you could was a torture for him.

“We’re sorry,” George apologized, but his brother was fast enough to correct him.

“I’m not,” he commented.

Rolling my eyes and squeezing in my hand the wooden wand, I looked at my nails. “I’m not surprised you’re a jerk, but I think your mother raised you better than this.”

Bringing his family in discussion always made Fred anxious, for a reason or another, even if I always tried to not say something harmful about them.

“I didn’t see you, lawn gnome,” he smirked and I snorted. He got even taller and he found it funny to laugh at me because a nonsense like that.

“Very mature. Where were you hurrying, gingers?” I asked George, out of curiosity.

“Going to meet Colin Creveey,” he said proudly.

When he saw the confusion on my face, he smiled and continued, “For Hognews,” he clarified, mentioning the newspaper’s name.

“We were going to show him our new product, but somebody scattered all over the train,” Fred said in an annoyed voice, looking down to the floor, to the small balls.

“I’m not sorry,” I said to his annoyance.

“We’re still going, we have a few left,” he answered proudly, crossing his hands to his chest. “We’re going to make it first page and you can’t stop us.”

“Oh, Fredrick,” I laughed, making George smile too, “I don’t even want to stop you two from doing such great things.”

He was astonished, just like his brother. “Ok, I think.” George punched him again, straightening his voice – he hit him harder this time, because Fred mouthed a little ow. “I’m sorry for making you fall,” he apologized, doing his brother’s wish.

“Oh, what was that?” I asked, amused, forgetting about the hard feelings between us. “I didn’t hear you.”

He smirked. “I think you didn’t, due to the distance, little gnome.”

I made something which made him stare at me like I was crazy. I stepped on his red shoes, raising myself. I was reaching the level of his eyes now, and it was good enough. “You can repeat now.”

Fred woke up from his daydream and shocked me by putting his hands on my waist, a cocky smile on his lips. “I’m sorry, princess.”

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of having me speechless because of his hypocrisy, I smiled. “It’s Queen for you, Weasley.”

#fred weasley x reader #noble chantage #rosier #wealsey #enemies to lovers #hogwarts #fred x y/n #Gryffindor #slytherin #george weasley #harry potter fanfic #fanfiction #y/n rosier #draco malfoy

27 notes · View notes

tartagilicious · 4 years

Text

[CN] Kiro’s Show Contract Date (eng translation)

✨kirp ✨

⭐️ this date contains spoilers for a plot not released in English yet!

⭐️ sorry this took so long, doing my junior year of high school online was a very bad decision 😔

⭐️ dedicated to @kudoriee @flowerpoem & @elainabearie , who had to witness me freaking out about this date for two hours straight lol

—

Seeing the clock advance further every minute, I finally took a deep breath and made up my mind.

MC: If you break the contract, you break the contract… I can’t disregard his health.

I picked up the phone and was about to make a call to Savin when an incoming call jumped onto the interface faster.

Kiro: Good morning, Miss potato chips!

MC: Did your fever go down today?

Kiro: Ah….After taking my medicine in the morning, my body temperature has stabled. My fever’s gone down and my condition is much better than yesterday.

MC: That’s good. You have a good rest Savin and I will take care of this aspect of the show.

Kiro: Well, I know the boss is the best.

MC: In short, you still have to take your medicine today, so please pay attention to the time…

Kiro: I know, I know.

I urged a few more words out of him, but just as I was about to hang up, other voices suddenly seemed to come from the other end of the receiver.... The voices of Kiki and Anna?

MC: Wait wait, kiro, where are you now? Are you at home?

Kiro: Hey, you already heard it. Then should I just come directly in?

As soon as Kiro’s words fell, the door of the office next to me opened, and bright golden hair and his bright smiling face leaped into my eyes. His blue eyes are clear as promised, but the faint sickness under his eyelashes cannot be hidden.

Kiro hung up the call and cleared his throat.

Kiro: Although I said it on the phone, I have to say it again in person: good morning, Miss potato chips~

MC: Kiro?! Why did you come to the company?

Kiro: Of course, it’s because I have to come! Don’t I have to go to a show today?

MC: I was just about to contact Savin to talk about this. Should we cancel this big show?

Kiro: But if the business refuses to perform, won’t you get a big penalty?

MC: You don’t need to comment on the liquidated damages. You need to rest now. If this performance makes you more sick, we’ll have a real problem then. Your health and safety are the first and most important things to me.

Kiro: ...___

He watched me seriously and abruptly smiled.

Kiro: I’m really happy that you care so much about me, but I still want to participate in this big show. First of all, because I prepared a lot for this performance, I don’t want to give up so easily; secondly, um…

Kiro seemed to be unable to think of the second reason. His eyes were so wide for a minute that he grabbed my hand.

Kiro: Secondly, I’ll always do things that make you think I am doing the best, so… trust me.

When we arrived at the show, the place had already begun intensive preparations. Models gathered in the backstage, and everyone was looking gorgeous and brilliant. When Kiro walked in, it was obvious that his mask still covered most of his face, but everyone’s eyes were still chasing the bright light subconsciously.

Reporter: Kiro is coming!

Model: It’s Kilo!

Savin: Sorry, let’s go, let’s go-!

Seeing that various forms of media were coming forward, Savin hurriedly cleared the way ahead and sent Kiro and I into a single dressing room.

Savin: ___, I’ll go to communicate with the stagehands over the specific performance situation, please help me with Kiro.

MC: Ok, leave it to me here.

Kiro: Leave it to me too!

As Kiro said this, he gave Savin a saluting gesture.

I can’t help but laugh, and my nervousness eased slightly along the way. He took off his mask and let out a long breath.

Kiro: Then I'll change clothes first, see you soon!

MC: Okay!

Taking advantage of Kiro’s time to change, I got hot water in the meantime. After he came out of the dressing room, I put a cup of tea in his hand.

Kiro: This is..

MC: Although you say that you’ll be strong, your voice may not necessarily listen to you.

Kiro laughed after hearing my mumble.

Kiro: Maybe I can find new ways to sing and develop new songs after losing my voice…

MC: Don’t even think about it. I don’t want to have a broken voiced Kiro.

I glared at him pretending to be angry, and Kiro’s mouth was tangled, but he obediently took the glass in my hand and drank it.

MC: And along with that, you also need this.

I took out a box of lozenges from my bag and poured one into his hand.

MC: This, you should have one. Some time ago, I had countless experiences, and I depended on them to continue in life, otherwise I might be the inexperienced one today.

Kiro: Were you that busy some time ago?

MC: Yes, the company had to expand its enrollment again, and I saw countless scenarios again, I always felt like I was busy.

Kiro: But when I called you the day before yesterday, you said that you weren’t busy. Miss potato chips, this is being a bad head of staff, obviously you’re still better than me.

He stretched out his voice and “condemned” me. I quickly raised my hands and surrendered, turning the subject away.

MC: Okay, I was wrong anyway… You eat the lozenges first!

Kiro: You’ve got yourself a deal.

He put the candy in his mouth, his cheeks bulging like a hampster.

Kiro: This is also my favourite flavour!

For this big show, Kiro will sing two songs, one is the opening song and the other is the middle warm-up. The two songs are in a different pitch and style. Perhaps thanks to the lozenges, Kiro was in a very stable state during the afternoon rehearsal.

He even has the extra energy to discuss with the director how to integrate into the catwalk better and how to present a more gorgeous stage presence. He still looks energetic and he doesn’t have the appearance of someone performing while sick.

Until the end of the first song of the formal performance in the evening, while preparing for the second warm-up song, I took his temperature again. But, the results this time had me shocked.

Looking at the abnormal value on the thermometer, my heart was pounding, and I couldn’t help but call out to him.

MC: Kiro, you, how are you?

Kiro: Hmm? I’m fine.

His eyes were slightly out of focus. He raised his attention after hearing my question, but his reaction was obviously slower than usual. My worry fell into his sapphire eyes clearly, and he blinked.

Kiro: Is ___ worried about me?

MC: I’ve been worried about how you’re doing!

I handed him the anti-fever medication, and watched him drink the water in the cup without leaving a single drop. I couldn’t help but whisper,

MC: You promised you wouldn’t overwork yourself.

Kiro: You also promised to believe in me. Don’t worry, although I can’t play a lively concert for three hours, I can sing one more song!

He poses a few times like a superhero, but the makeup artist behind him pats his arms and signals for him not to move. Kiro stuck out his tongue, and suddenly seemed to think of something.

Kiro: By the way, can Miss potato chips give me another lozenge? I want to clear my throat again.

Kiro, who couldn’t move, opened his mouth to me confidently. But the cunning blue eyes obviously expose his intent -- it was deliberate. I reluctantly took out the bag and delivered the throat lozenge to his mouth. Kiro quickly took it away with his teeth, but accidentally rubbed away the lipstick on his mouth.

MC: Oops, the makeup is a little smudged! Don’t move and I’ll wipe it away for you….

As I said this, I quickly stretched out my hand, wanting to erase the blemish. Kiro’s face was so close that I could tell, the concealer perfectly covered his illness, and the foundation hid his weakness. In order to fit the stage makeup ordered by the big show, his already stunning face was carved into an even more beautiful face, and almost all signs of exhaustion were cut off.

Only when my fingertips touch his lips can I clearly feel his warm breath. It is as vivid as ever. I carefully erased that little flaw, and with satisfaction looked back at it.

MC: Alright, the prosperous beauty Kiro Zhou, you’re freshly baked!

Kiro looked at himself in the makeup mirror and raised his eyebrows.

Kiro: How many people do you think can handle being charmed by such a beautiful Kiro in one time?

MC: You’ve fascinated everyone in the city in a radius of about 500 miles!

The staff all around laughed at this sentence, and Kiro’s eyes flashed lightly, as if to say something, but in the end he didn’t speak. The staff came and knocked on the door to the dressing room, indicating that the next runway show was about to begin.

I finally adjust the decorations on his clothes, but I can’t help but say a few more words.

MC: If you feel uncomfortable in your throat, don’t force anything. You can do a lower tone. I believe in you as long as you try your best in your current state.

I spoke very firmly and honestly, and I knew he would understand what I meant.

Kiro: That… Miss potato chips, please come and cheer for me.

He opened his hands to me calmly, and I took into account the look he had just taken care of, and just wanted to give him a hug. In the next second, his powerful palm is placed on my back and I’ve received a full hug.

MC: Ki--

Kiro’s heavy head rested on my shoulder, and his hot breath brushed my ears, making my heart thump loudly.

Kiro: I don’t need the attention of everyone within 500 miles, as long as you watch me.

His voice is very soft, but it made my heart beat violently in my chest.

Kiro let go of me and raised his hand towards me, only to have me realise that at some point the box of lozenges were in his hand.

Kiro: This is my lucky item today, let it accompany me on stage!

After speaking, he put the sugar in his pocket, and amidst the sound of music and grand applause, he walked towards the runway. The prelude sounded, and the light followed him with his slowly moving footsteps. When Kiro hummed the first note, I had no choice but to pay attention like the others, completely immersed in his musical world.

He didn’t drop or change the key, but his slightly hoarse voice gave the old song a new charm. Models now wore new costumes of varying styles, passing by him like flowing water. It’s like countless planets orbiting the stars, and Kiro is the brightest one in the universe called the stage. At any time, it’s obvious that I’ll be pulled in by the gravity of Kiro.

The big show ended smoothly with a round of applause.

I just wanted to go to Kiro, but I met a media party who I had cooperated with before and had to accept a short interview offer. When I finally got out, I happened to see the most eye-catching figure in the crowd.

MC: Kiro!

Kiro was surrounded by models, and though he turned his head back to me, he didn’t seem to hear my call. The models finished taking a photo with him, watched him eagerly, and handed a signature pen to him. After he finished signing, the group still didn’t leave, but asked something of him yet again.

I hesitated, and when I didn’t know whether to call him again, Kiro seemed to sense something and turned to me. The moment he saw me, his eyes lit up and he waved at me. As I walked over, Kiro pointed to his throat innocently.

Kiro: I’m uncomfortable, ___, please come and be my translator.

Hearing his voice muffled, my heart immediately dropped.

MC: What do you want me to say?

He came close to my ear and whispered something.

Kiro: The casting of the new music video…

I suddenly realised.

MC: They want to fight for roles?!

Kiro: Now that they’ve seen the menacing male protagonist, of course they want to create an opportunity for themselves.

MC: I understand.

I smiled and expressed my gratitude to the models for their love of Kiro, and then I changed the topic and said to them in a more business-like tone:

MC: Kiro needs rest now. As for work, please ask your agent to get into contact with his. Besides, it’s not a matter if casting so much as it is something that can’t be settled in a short time

The models glanced at each other and were too embarrassed to interrupt, apologised to both of us, and left. After they were far away, I heard a light laugh from behind me.

Kiro: ...It seems that this trick is quite useful.

His voice clung to my ears with the fresh scent of candy on his breath, his words clear. I reacted instantly.

MC: So your voice isn’t hoarse at all!

Kiro: Shhh, keep your voice down! It’s hard enough to get everyone to leave, do you want them to come back? And with my “boss” as my aid, they’re too embarrassed to come and chat with me.

I looked around and found that indeed no one was trying to come over and talk to him. Maybe Kiro had great acting skills, because even his eyes after the show were a little sympathetic.

MC: Well, that’s reasonable… but what are we going to do now?

Kiro: Didn’t you just say you were tired? Let’s find a place to rest!

After speaking, he hooked my finger and quietly led us out of the venue together. No one was in the dressing room, and Kiro finally let out a sigh of relief after closing the door. Under the iridescent lights, even with heavy makeup, you can still the fatigue in his eyes.

MC: Kiro, have you been holding on okay?

Kiro: No, that’s why I asked you for help.

Kiro nodded arrogantly and pulled me into the dressing table.

Kiro: cough! I'm dizzy, flushed and can't lift my hands anymore. could i please trouble ___ to remove my makeup?

He blinked as he spoke, and his pupils were so bright that I couldn’t find any reason to refuse.

MC: Then sit down, and I’ll look for something to remove the makeup.

I searched for makeup remover and cotton pads in the makeup cabinet, washed my hands, pushed my hair behind my ears, leaned down slightly, and motioned for Kiro to close his eyes. When he raised his head, the glitter and tich colours at the centre of his eyes were soaked in lotion -- revealing the original skin tone.

It was as if the most exquisite porcelain had been burnt for a moment, his fair complexion showing a strange flush. My heart tightened and I almost blurted out advice.

MC: Kiro, you really need to take a good rest… I’ll tell Savin to push back all of the work ahead of you.

Kiro: In fact, Savin has already promised to let me take a short vacation, so i estimate that you’ll receive word in a while.

MC: Fortunately, this time I’ll let him supervise your itinerary and put you at home for a good rest.

Kiro: Just rest?

MC: ..What else?

Kiro: Since getting a holiday is rare, it’s better to have a little fun.

MC: Interesting.

Kiro: Yes! I bought the limited edition of the game that was released last month, but I haven’t opened the packing yet; there’s also a particularly good looking comic that i’ve stocked up on, and this time i can catch up; and you can catch up on the new episode of my TV series that aired a few days ago!

He used his fingers to count every single activity he could so one by one, and I couldn’t help but rub the tip of his nose with the cotton pad.

MC: Then let the bag of lozenges and your cello also accompany you?

Kiro: That’s better! But well,.. This kind of vacation can only be regarded as substantial, and is a bit short of being “fun”. It would be more interesting if the video game could be completed as a team; if a TV series and comic books can be consumed with someone to talk about them with, it will be more interesting. When cats tease dogs, I think they’ll eventually become friends.

Kiro opened his eyes, and my reflection was clear in his bright pupils.

Kiro: I think that would be “interesting”.

Kiro looked at me seriously and made a genuine invitation.

Kiro: So in the coming times, will Miss potato chips continue to be my “translator”?

Being watched by such a pair of gentle eyes, it is impossible for anyone to look away, let alone say a word of rejection. The interesting life he constructed is also the interesting life I've experienced.

MC: Ok.. the “translator” may not work around the clock, but I can come after I get off work and I can be your “fun explorer”.

When he heard the first half of the sentence, Kiro’s brows furrowed, but after I finished speaking, he smiled again.

Kiro: Then I have to listen carefully, what’s a “fun explorer”?

MC: The literal meaning is that I’ll do everything that you want to do with you.

Kiro: Really?

MC: Yes! But for the sake of your voice, this explorer will strictly supervise you during the vacation, and you aren’t allowed to eat any heavy sweets!

Kiro: Ah, why’s this? I still want to secretly have a snack party with you!

Kiro pretended to be frustrated and extended the ending sound of his words, but did not refuse my concerns.

Kiro: Then let’s promise, we’re now holiday partners!

He stretched out his hand and pressed my thumb to his. It seems to have stamped an agreement that spans time in my heart.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mr love queen’s choice #mlqc kiro #mr love queen’s choice kiro #translation #spoilers #恋与制作人 #恋与制作人周��洛

88 notes · View notes

kitkatt0430 · 3 years

Text

the flash and the problem of the pointless sacrifice

It starts at the end of season one. Eddie Thawne picks up his gun and shoots himself, dying to protect Iris, Barry, and the rest from his dangerous descendent Eobard Thawne.

Season two ends with its reversal, Barry creating the Flashpoint Timeline that, though its eventually set back to 'normal-ish', leaves a time remnant of Eobard Thawne alive and well (if running scared from the Black Flash/Hunter Zolomon as a speed zombie) to wreak havoc once more.

And I get it. The Reverse Flash is one of the Flash's most iconic villains - killing him off in season one couldn't be permanent. But apparently Eddie's suicide could be and the message that sends is... unfortunate.

Eddie is an extremely kindhearted person and we see that about him again and again throughout season one. He always has a smile for the people he cares about and he's an absolutely terrible liar. But we also know that he was bullied as a child/teen and since he never brings up the subject of his own family, it's likely he doesn't have a support structure outside of Central City. And the support structure he does gain in Central City was Barry's support structure first. There's not a single person we see Eddie spend time with in season one that didn't know Barry first.

And that's a big part of what wears him down over the course of the season. When both Barry and Eddie need support, Barry gets it first. Barry's secrets are treated as something Eddie has to prioritize over his relationship with Iris. Barry's loved Iris longer than Eddie's known her and while Iris loves Eddie, she also loves Barry and she's infatuated with the Flash - not realizing he's Barry's alter ego. Over the course of the season, Eddie constantly tries to connect with Barry and Barry constantly holds back. Their relationship is never equal. And that's what leaves Eddie open to Eobard's manipulations with the future news article.

And Eddie tries to make his own future with Iris anyway. But even with Iris accepting his proposal, Joe makes it clear he'll never truly accept their relationship and Eddie's sense of self worth is at an all time low. And that's the state of mind he's in during the fight in the pipeline. When Barry chooses not to let Eobard go after all, it puts them all in a position of potentially having to deal with this fight between the two speedsters just... never ending. It puts Iris in danger because Barry cares about her and because while Eddie is Eobard's ancestor... Iris isn't. From Eobard's point of view, Eddie's the only one who isn't expendable and from Eddie's point of view... he's the only one who is expendable.

His answer is suicide. And his death immediately erases Eobard from the timeline, but its also implied to have contributed to the re-emergence of the singularity. But at least Eobard was dead.

At least, until Barry created Flashpoint at the end of season 2. Presumably Eddie was alive in Flashpoint, but we never see him. Maybe he stays in Keystone instead of transferring to Central City. Never meets Iris. Never gets worn down to feel like he's not good enough. Never kills himself.

When Flashpoint is reset, Eddie's dead again but now his sacrifice has been rendered moot because Eobard's still alive as a time remnant.

It sets a rather nasty precedent for the show.

Season two also ends with a suicide. This time it's Barry's.

Much like Eddie the year before, Barry's been worn down. He had his place in his family's come into question, with Henry leaving at the start of the season and Wally's arrival midway through the season. His back is literally broken by the stress of fighting Zoom and despite everything he's suffered for the city, his honor is called into question the instant a different speedster takes to thievery. He has to give up his speed to protect Wally only for that to immediately put Caitlin in danger. His colleagues are brutally murdered by Zoom to teach him a lesson. His father finally comes back for good, only to be murdered in the same place as Barry's mother.

Honestly, there is no question (to my mind anyway) that Barry's suicidal at the end of the season. And because Barry his time remnants are fundamentally the same person at the moment of their split, the time remnant Barry creates is suicidal as well.

That time remnant tears himself apart to stop Zoom's plan to destroy the multi-verse. His very existence also lures in the Time Wraiths that take Zoom away, transforming him into the mindless Black Flash. All at the cost of a version of Barry killing himself, going unlamented and forgotten. But at least the multi-verse was safe.

Until the Red Skies Crisis when the multi-verse is actually destroyed and rebooted.

Another sacrifice rendered pointless.

HR does not kill himself in season three. But he deliberately places himself in a position to be killed in Iris' place. He arrives on the heels of a scandal on his Earth where he's been revealed to have been taking credit for someone else's work - with that person's blessing, but its still ruined his reputation. He comes wanting to reinvent himself, but from the start he's not the person the team really wants. They want Harry. Cisco wants Harry. He gets it hammered in that his strengths aren't appreciated by the team because he's not a scientist. His efforts to help STAR Labs are dismissed entirely. The only reason any attempts to help his museum venture succeed are because changing the future might save Iris.

It's not that HR is disliked, but he's left acutely aware that he's considered 'a bit much' and that he's always going to come second to the people he puts first. In fact, Tracy's probably the only one who truly and completely appreciates HR as he is.

So HR swaps places with Iris, knowing that he's going to die when he does. And while HR doesn't kill himself, there's an argument to be made that what he did was still suicide by proxy.

And this is a sacrifice that sticks, because Iris West is the love interest. She's never going to be killed off for real.

Three seasons ending with a suicidal sacrifice. And only one of them doesn't have that sacrifice reversed or nullified. Unfortunately, that's not the end of it either.

Harry leaves his Earth at the start of season four. His relationship with his daughter, which was shown to still be strong in season three, has somehow deteriorated to the point where she's thrown him off her support team and he comes to Earth-1 to reconnect with the found family he forged during season two. He's in the midst of a crisis and his understanding of himself as a parent is unraveling. And then DeVoe calls the other pillar of Harry's self identity into question, because Harry's genius isn't enough on its own anymore. He's not smart enough to out think DeVoe and his Earth-1 family is suffering. So Harry creates his own downfall, burns out his own brain trying to be the smartest. And he sacrifices his last moments of lucidity to find the answer to stopping DeVoe. In doing so, Harry puts Barry in the position to save Ralph's life.

But DeVoe still gets the last laugh when he causes the STAR Labs satellite to come falling down, nearly destroying the city and creating Cicada in the process.

But unlike previous seasons, Harry doesn't die. He gets some of his intelligence back and immediately gets exiled by the writers back to Earth-2 due to the massive problems with ableism this show has. But that's a different conversation.

Season five is probably the only season not to include a suicidal character who's kills themselves. Nora dies when she erases herself from the timeline by accident, but we know now she'll be back in the back half of season seven, along with her new brother. But one out five seasons not taking a suicide (or similar action in Harry's case) and painting it as a noble - but ultimately useless - gesture is rather... bad as far as track records go.

Season six has the alternate Barry Allen - implied to be the Barry from the 90s show - who dies in place of this show's Barry. To save the multi-verse and let this other Barry go home to his wife, something he'll never have with Tina again. And the multi-verse is destroyed anyway.

Season seven opened with Nash Wells, whose usual method of investigating mysteries and hoaxes led to the Anti Monitor's freedom and the multi-verse's destruction. His home Earth destroyed so he can never go home. He's confronted with an alternate version of his dead daughter, who can barely stand his presence. He begins to hallucinate alternate versions of himself and is possessed by the Reverse Flash and all his research on how to create a new Speed Force - to try to make up for some of the damage he's caused - points to a single conclusion. The only way to make things better is for him to die.

Instead, Nash's death immediately makes things worse. The artificial speed force is flawed and Barry destroys it in the very next episode. And while one could argue that Nash's death allowed Barry to save Iris and ultimately restored the original Speed Force, it doesn't negate the fact that Nash's suicidal state of mind wasn't addressed by the people who called him friend. And his legacy was immediately deemed a failure and destroyed.

While I wouldn't say the show is glorifying suicide, there's a subtle and incredibly troubling repetition in the story telling on the show that frames suicide as the right decision in certain circumstances. Even though what's being sacrificed for often comes to naught. And it's incredibly uncomfortable, seeing it all laid out like this.

I'm still really not sure what to make of it all, but I've got no doubt it ties into the show's ableism with regards to mental health issues. Because every time its someone whose mental health has been brought down to a low point who commits these acts of 'sacrifice' and while the team grieves these losses... they don't seem to learn from them either. Because it just keeps happening.

(Think I missed something? Please, by all means, add on.)

#the flash #the flash meta #tw suicude #some of the story telling trends on this show can be a little disturbing when you take a closer look at them #discussing several characters on the Flash who commit suicide (or make self-destructive decisions) across the seven seasons #ableism on the Flash

11 notes · View notes