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#we could have learned more about their relationship
sincerelyneo · 2 days
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could i request a mark smut 😣😣 where reader and mark just had an intense argument but in the end, they cant be mad at each other for long so they just fck it out of each other 🤐🤐🤐🤐
mad at you | l.mk
“then i try to leave, but baby i just can’t stay mad at you”
💿now playing: mad at you by why don’t we
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❯ summary: Mark learns that you’ve made a ‘selfish’ decision that’s bound to put a strain on your relationship. Next thing you know, you're knee-deep in an argument that somehow ends with you sprawled out beneath him; because, let’s be honest, he’s never really been any good at staying mad at you.
❯ pairings: idol!mark x fem!reader
❯ genre: angst, smut, established relationship, make up sex
❯ words: 4.3k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, lots of arguing, swearing, reader is lowkey dramatic, makeup sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), nipple play, dry humping, brief clit play, slight needy mark bc i can't help myself, creampie, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader and mark argue and resolve it by fucking.
an: i love writing angsty arguments (testament to my real relationships lol) so thank you so much for this request. it lowkey brought me out of writer’s block.
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The honeymoon stage lasts approximately thirty months or two and a half years – which would make sense considering you and Mark were approaching your third year together and have argued more recently than you ever had. 
But this time it’s different. You’ve never seen Mark like this, so angry that his face is bordering red and his jaw ticks so hard it might crack as the both of you drive in complete silence from your work dinner. He doesn’t even bother sneaking his usual glances at you when he pulls up at stoplights, the hand he likes to place on your thigh is gripping the wheel instead, and the only noise in the car is his rugged and frustrated exhales. 
You could feign ignorance about why he's upset, but you know the reason all too well. And while a part of you acknowledges his right to be angry, another, more prideful part, resists the idea of apologising, especially when you think his reaction seems so disproportionate to your mistake.
So you sit in the passenger seat, arms crossed and body frozen, contributing to the cold silence settling between the two of you. You prepare yourself for the earful of a lecture you’re about to get when he pulls up outside your shared apartment. 
He parks the car, slams the door shut, and strides towards your building without a backward glance. You scoff at his pettiness; he's never been so angry that he wouldn't at least wait for you to get out of the car with him. He doesn't even slow down when you trail behind. And when he nearly lets the elevator doors close without you, any chance he has of receiving an apology from you flies out the window, you think. 
He does, however, show some decency by leaving the front door open for you as you both step out of the elevator and head towards your apartment – how chivalrous. 
The chivalry doesn’t last long because the minute he hears you clasp the door shut, he’s glaring at you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, and you can't help but notice that he's rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt in frustration. If he weren't on the brink of yelling at you, you'd be tempted to make him do more than just roll up those sleeves — you'd want the fabric torn off and thrown on the floor in an instant.
“Paris, Y/N?!” Mark seethes, voice deep and uneven. “You signed a fucking contract to work in Paris?!?”
You pause, attempting to gather your thoughts, but the momentary silence doesn't offer much clarity. Eventually, you settle on, "It's just a six-month gig..." – a statement that seems to send him into a frenzy. 
“Just six months?” He rubs his jaw repeatedly in disbelief, “That’s six months that we won’t get to see each other, did you even think about that huh?”
You scoff, “You’re one to talk, need I remind you that your job takes you away from me for months at a time.”
"That's not fair," he protests. "You knew exactly what you were getting into when you agreed to date me. I didn’t agree to not seeing my girlfriend for months because she’s gallivanting away in Paris without me."
Your eyes narrow and your nostrils flare, “So what? If you would have known, you wouldn’t have wanted to be my boyfriend?”
His eyes widen and he shakes his head. His hands fly to his hair and he tugs at the strands as he huffs out a breath. 
“How the fuck did you get that conclusion from what I said?” He asks, voice sounding baffled. “The reason I’m so mad is because I like being your boyfriend, but I’m not going to see you for the next six months.”
“You’re being a hypocrite right now.”
He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Right, because I’m always the one being unreasonable.”
“Yes, you are,” you scorn, “This job is my dream, don’t you see how selfish you're being?”
“I’m selfish?” He gasps, “That’s rich considering you didn’t even consult me when making this decision, I had to find out from your smug little co-worker in front of everyone. You were thinking solely about yourself, Y/N.”
You're on the verge of screaming. How is he not seeing things from your perspective? He's usually so understanding, so open to hearing your side. But the razor-sharp look in his eyes tells you that there's no getting through to him. He's convinced you're wrong, and nothing will change his mind.
“It’s for my job, Mark,” you cross your arms and shrug. 
“And how many times have I told you that you don’t need to work? How many times do I need to tell you I can look after the both of us?”
“And how many times have I told you that I don’t want that? I don’t want to have to always rely on you!” You snap. 
Your teeth grit as the words spit out of your mouth. They seem to hit Mark, deep, his eyes softening for a fleeting moment before sharpening again. He swallows thickly and blinks before running a hand through his hair. 
“Then what are we doing, Y/N?” He asks deflated, “What are we if you don’t want to rely on me?”
You're not sure what compels you to say it – whether it's the way you're all worked up, the entire context of the argument, or some inner recognition that you're the one who's fucked up this time despite you both having stuff to apologise for. Still, you escalate the situation from zero to one hundred without a second thought. 
“Oh, so you want to break up?”
He shakes his head and tongues the inside of his cheek, “When did I say that?!”
The fight only gets worse after that, the two of you blowing up after every sentence. You run around in circles, throwing accusations and insults at each other to the point the original premise of the argument is lost along the way of a thousand new arguments. It’s like every little thing you’ve both done to irk each other over the last month is brought up; and by the end of it, the two of you swear you’re done with each other. 
Sure, you've had your fair share of arguments, but the biting finality of the word "done" as it leaves his lips sends a sharp pang through your stomach – it hurts like hell. You've reached your limit with this endless cycle of back-and-forth; you've had enough of him. Storming past him, you head towards your shared bedroom.
Mark sighs and reaches out for your arm, but you pull away. He doesn't like this, doesn't like the chilliness he feels from you. He doesn't want to end the argument like this; it's never gone this far without a resolution before.
“You can’t just storm away when we argue Y/N, it’s childish.”
“If you don’t like it then leave!” You slam the door shut after you and lock it. 
Mark hates this more, not being able to talk this out because you’ve put a wall between the two of you. Then your words register in his mind and he’s the most hurt he’s ever felt. You want him to leave. Fuck that, he thinks. He’s not going to watch his relationship go down the drain over a petty argument. 
He knocks on the door a few times, then jiggles the doorknob, calling out your name and pleading for you to let him in. But you remain unmoved, denying him even the satisfaction of hearing your voice telling him to go away. This only adds to his frustration. He's the one you've upset, and yet here he is, begging for you to open up so he can fix things.
After a few more tries he scoffs, your words echoing in his mind once more. Leave. It crosses his mind as he makes his way to the front door of the apartment. He swings it open, ready to clear his head and crash at Johnny's for the night. But just as he's about to step out, he catches sight of a picture of the two of you on the coffee table where he keeps his keys. 
It’s from your honeymoon phase when it was easier for the two of you to say you’d never let anything come between you – when love seemed to blind you both. Mark picks up the photo, memories flooding back to the day it was taken. It was the day you met his parents and shared your aspirations of becoming a fashion designer. You reassured them that you had your own dreams and weren't just with their son for his wealth – though his parents wouldn't have minded either way; they would have been content with any girl that made their son happy. And you made Mark happy – you make Mark so fucking happy. 
Which is why he can’t believe he’s even considering leaving you in this apartment on your own after a fight. He shuts the front door and makes his way to the couch. He's eager to resolve things with you now, but both of you are too caught up in emotions, spouting shit you'll likely regret in the morning. So he opts to grab a few sofa pillows and a blanket from the storage closet instead. He strips down from his dress shirt and pants, throwing them to the floor before lying back and resting his eyes with a heavy mind.
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Regret doesn't hit you until 2:00 am the following morning, when you're met with the chill of an empty space beside you as you reach out to cuddle your boyfriend, only to find him absent. Sure you thought he was overreacting to the news, but you're also painfully aware that your own words were uncalled for. You shouldn’t have asked him to leave – you didn’t want him to. 
As you heard the front door open and then close with a clink, a thick lump formed in your throat. The realisation that you had driven him away hit you hard, and you lost all motivation. You lay on your bed, makeup still intact, as you sniffled and sobbed quietly into your pillow. And even now, after tossing and turning from your mind running laps, you’d only managed to sleep for a few minutes. 
You stretch your stiff legs and reluctantly leave your bed, unlocking your bedroom door with sleepy eyes. You're taken aback when you see Mark sleeping soundly on the sofa, his breath steady with his eyes closed. You thought he had left, but there he is, covered only by the blanket from the storage closet. It breaks your heart to see him like this; he's likely cold, and he'll probably have a stiff neck in the morning for practice. And you know it's all your fault.
The guilt eats away at you, and without hesitation, you rush to the bedroom to grab his pillows and an extra blanket. Realistically, you should wake him up and insist he sleeps in bed, but the fear of his lingering anger keeps you from doing so. Instead, you kneel in front of him, attempting to swap the sofa pillows for his own bed pillows.
However, your efforts prove futile because Mark is a light sleeper – a detail you foolishly overlooked in your worried state of mind. He blinks as he wakes up once, then twice, appearing confused to find you in front of him in the living room instead of beside him in bed.
“Baby?” He whispers, his eyes hazy as he tries to make sense of what you're doing. It doesn’t take him long once he spots the sofa cushion in your hand to put the pieces together.  
You bite your lip and sigh, “I know you're mad at me, but I didn’t want you to wake up stiff in the morning.”
Mark's chest constricts. How could he possibly stay mad at you when you're so cute, fussing over him like this? He notices the smudge of black makeup beneath your eye, and his heart tightens once more – this time with sadness rather than affection.
His hand reaches out to touch your cheek, and you’re shocked at the touch. “You’ve been crying?” He asks and you bow your head. 
"I thought you left..."
Mark wants to laugh at the irony. You asked him to leave, and yet here you are, upset at the idea of his departure. He swears if he weren't so in love with you, he'd rant about how much you mess with his head, pushing him to the edge only to pull him back again.
“Would never leave you, baby, you know that,” his voice is soft and comforting as the rough edge of his fingertips finds your jaw. 
You can't control it; tears fall freely from your eyes. He's being incredibly considerate and gentle with you, even after you acted like a bitch. Honestly, you almost wish he'd just yell at you instead. But he doesn’t, his eyes widen and he immediately sits up straight letting the blanket fall to the floor as he pulls you up to sit on his lap. 
He shushes you, his hands finding your waist where he rubs soothing soft circles into the fabric of your tank top, “Hey, why are you crying? I’m here…please don’t get upset, Y/N.”
His kindness only amplifies your guilt. 
"I'm so sorry," you stifle in short sobs, your voice almost cracking. "I should've talked to you about the job offer before signing the contract... I-I didn't mean to act so selfishly. I just... I wasn't thinking."
Mark gives you a half-smile as he runs a hand through your hair. "It's okay, baby... You got caught up in your dream. I'm sorry for not realising that. I'm the one being selfish by always expecting you to put me first."
"No—"
He interrupts you to continue his apology. "You were right, you know. I always expect you to wait for me while I'm on tour. I never considered it from the other side, with me waiting for you... But I will. I'll wait because I know how much this job means to you."
Your face buries itself in the crook of his neck as you cry even harder, and he tuts gently while rubbing your back.
"Please don’t cry, Y/N," he murmurs softly. "I hate seeing you upset."
"Can’t help it," you muffle. "I hate that I upset you…"
Mark pulls you away from his neck, needing to look into your eyes as he speaks. "It's normal for couples to argue, baby. We just need to promise to communicate better, okay?"
His fingers stroke your cheeks again, and you lean into his touch. The warmth of his hand feels so comforting as if he was made to soothe your skin, the only person capable of bringing you relief. You bite your lip and nod against his palm, because you're more than willing to work on your communication if it means never feeling like this again.
"Now, give me a smile. You know, the pretty one I like," he says with a laugh. "If I'm not going to see you for the next six months, I don’t want one of our last moments together to be so... sad."
You smile at him and press your forehead against his with a whisper. "Me neither.”
You’re so close to each other that you’re practically sharing the same breath, if you had said that two hours ago you wouldn’t have believed yourself. But here you are, lips so close that your heavy breathing practically begs him to kiss you.
Mark feels it too, so when he does, it's like the softness of his lips is a bandage, mending the angry tension between the two of you. It patches up the last few hours that have transpired, and when he pulls away, it feels as if nothing even happened.
His hands grip your hips firmly, his fingers pressing down as he guides your body to grind against his clothed crotch. His lips find yours again, accompanied by a groan that escapes into your mouth. It's only when you feel him harden beneath you that you remember he was half-naked on the sofa – clearly after you locked him out of the bedroom.
Suddenly feeling suffocated by your own clothes, you pull away from him to strip off your tank top, tossing it over your head before discarding it somewhere in the living room. You yearn to meet his lips again – the only place you truly feel safe – but Mark wants to savour the way you look. Your clothed cunt eagerly grinding against his hard-on, hips chasing a high so eagerly that your bra strap has slid loosely down your arm.
You're a vision, Mark thinks, one that has him salivating and desperate to fuck you. He almost curses at himself for nearly ruining it all, for nearly walking out on the most beautiful person on the planet, the best sex he's ever had – and not only that but also the funniest, sweetest person he knows he'll ever meet.
He leans into your neck, his nose nuzzling into you as he whispers softly, "I'm sorry... so sorry, Y/N." His hand leaves your hips to cup your breast over your bra, massaging the mound with just enough pressure to elicit soft moans from your lips.
“‘s okay,” you whimper. 
Your head falls back as his hand snakes around to unclasp it. He wastes no time brushing his intrusive fingers down your chest, wearing a filthy smirk because he knows just how sensitive you are there. The tip of his finger circles around your nipple until he’s right in the centre, feeling it harden under his touch. He pinches it, and you jolt forward on his cock, making his boxers tighten, and he groans.
He loves how responsive you were to him, watching you writhe over him as he touched you in torturous pleasure. Just the way you arch your back into his touch has pre-cum leaking out of his cock. 
He leans in this time, sucking on your nipple and opening wide to get as much of the tender tissue of your breast in his mouth as possible. He holds your waist in place to keep you grinding on him to entice enough friction for him to feel good too. 
And when he looks down to see where the two of you meet, he moans when he sees the wet patch leaking through your shorts onto his boxers. 
“Fuck, so wet for me, baby. Just for me.”
You whimper, and his hand slips into the hem of your shorts. You’re glad you never wear panties to bed because his fingers find your clit immediately, relieving you of some of the neediness you’ve been feeling from grinding down on him. He rubs small circles as his mouth licks and sucks and nips at your bud. 
“Mark…” 
“Shhh baby,” he coos, “wanna make it up to you. Please let me make it up to you, let me make you feel good.” 
You whimper with a nod of your head, humping into his hand, legs opening wider to give him easier access to the place you’re most sensitive. You let out mild pants, hips bucking more aggressively from the stimulation on both your nipple and clit.
And when Mark notices you getting close, he pulls off your tit to look up at your face. It’s his favourite part — watching your features contort when the bliss is at its highest. It makes his chest swell with pride knowing he’s the one making you cum, knowing his touch is enough to make you shake and moan. And if he wasn’t such a selfish lover, he’d think the sight is something everyone should see at least once.
As you come down from your orgasm, your eyes flutter open to meet him. Mark doesn’t know whether it’s from seeing your orgasm paired with the argument from earlier but he’s the hardest he’s ever been. 
You notice it too, looking down and giggling. “Now it’s my turn to make it up to you.” 
He lets out a soft huff, and a muscle in his jaw twitches with his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat before he nods. You free his cock from his boxers and shimmy yourself out of your shorts. You let out identical gasps when your bare cunt brushes against the tip of his cock. 
Slowly, you sink onto him, fully feeling him inside of you. Your head falls forward, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you take in the size of him, the way he fills you just right — the way he always does. 
The stretch as you take him in never gets old, eliciting the same whimpers and whines. You can feel his hands resting on your hips, then slipping to the bend of your waist, silently urging you to move as he presses you downwards.
You lift your hips, slow and steady as you let the sensations wash over you, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest. His grip on your body tightens as you sink back down, blunt nails digging into your skin. The sounds he makes only drive you further into finding a teasing rhythm because his voice is just so pretty. The sounds are soon muffled to your disappointment when his mouth presses into your skin, so his tongue can slide along the top of your breast — making the disappointment fade away real quick. 
You let out a breathy cry, hands rising from where they’ve been resting, flattening against his chest, to wrap around his shoulders. The slow pace you’d adopted was becoming not enough. And you could tell from the way Mark is rutting his hips up to meet you, he shares the same sentiment. 
Your mouths collide as you pick up the pace, using his shoulders to leverage yourself as you bounce up and down on his cock. When he breaks from the kiss, an unrestrained groan slips past his lips, low and rough, followed by another, and you have to bite back a whimper of your own.
Mark can’t help the noises, he just loves the way you swivel your hips in a way that makes him see stars. He loves watching you work yourself on him for pleasure – he loves when you ride him.
And right when you squeeze around him, he rewards you with a loud, obscene groan, a sound that makes you dizzy and limp. Everything about Mark is intoxicating and downright addicting, and you were in no hurry to kick that addiction. In fact, you craved more of it – needed more. 
You grab his hands and guide them across your body. He squeezes them at your hips, smoothing across your thighs, your stomach. His hands were everywhere, eyes dark and desperate, wordlessly begging for you to give him what he needed, the same thing he’d been kind enough to already give you. 
So you rock yourself forward, providing a new type of friction that makes you whine helplessly into his skin. Blunt nails mark into the plush of your thighs, a futile attempt at grounding himself. The upward thrust of his hips and the strained catch of his breath tells you that he's growing impatient. You know the pace was slow, but damn it, it felt so fucking good to feel him like this, every inch of him sliding into you, hitting all the spots that makes your brain stop working. It also felt like a sick little way to get revenge...
“Faster,” you hear him say. “Please baby, need it faster.”
You could feel his hips bucking up to meet you. Then his thumb finds your clit, working in circles and making you squeeze around him with a shrill, gasping cry. It was his attempt at bargaining with you, doing anything to make you speed up and shamelessly fuck yourself on his cock. Maybe if he pleases you, you’ll let him cum.
“Please fuck me properly baby, need it,” he rasps, “You want me to forgive you right?”
And then you remember what led you here in the first place. You’d upset him and now you’re teasing him – you suppose it’s only fair if you pick up the pace a little more, fuck him messily and desperately enough to have him dizzying towards his climax. 
And once you do, his thrusts grow sloppier, and your thighs start aching. It feels too fucking good so all that you can do is cling to him and let him take the lead, strong hands guiding you as he sucks against your neck. And even though you’re supposed to be the one making him cum, you find yourself buried in the crook of his neck, gasping as your walls clench and nails dig into the skin of his strong back. 
The slight stinging sensation is enough to work Mark over the edge, and you feel him twitch inside of you, sending shock waves up your spine as he fucks his cum inside of you with a final powerful thrust. You roll your hips to help him along, taking all you can get from him and he moans his appreciation as you do. 
You remain tangled up in one another as you come down from your respective highs with foreheads pressed close. You wrestle to find his hand, lacing your fingers with his as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. He kisses your nose, then your lips, with a tenderness that makes your heart feel like it’s being squeezed. 
You don’t want to move just yet, so you release your hands and wrap them around his neck, nuzzling your nose against his before you speak.
"Mark?" You mumble, your voice tired and hazy. He hums in response.
"I’m sorry," you say softly.
You feel his smile against your mouth before he kisses your lips. "It’s okay, baby. I don’t even remember what we were fighting for."
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comradekatara · 1 day
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a really defining moment of aang and sokka’s relationship is that sokka literally lets himself get beat up for aang’s amusement and entertainment like a day into knowing him. like he is literally letting aang drop him onto the ground from a not insignificant height over and over again just to see aang smile and laugh. he is putting his own safety and physical wellbeing at risk because it makes aang happy. and there’s a lot we could get into here about how sokka fundamentally views himself and his body as a vessel through which to provide services to others instead of a whole human being in his own right, but what matters for the purposes of this post is that it’s very immediately established that sokka will do anything to see aang enjoy himself, to the point that he will quite literally put up with physical abuse without complaint to make aang happy. so when people are like “it’s crazy how sokka is so smart and yet loses all his braincells whenever he’s around aang,” it’s like yeah, teenage boy adhd2adhd communication will do that, but also a large part of it is sokka contorting himself into an image that he thinks aang will appreciate, because he knows just how valuable preserving aang’s childhood joy and laughter is.
and what’s beautiful is that through actively becoming this person for aang’s benefit, he also actually starts to internalize the sentiment. through the process of letting himself be silly and goofy for the sake of making aang happy, he also absorbs some of that sillygoofy happiness and regains some of his own childhood joy and laughter and sense of wonder he truly thought he had lost forever. he’s not just helping aang retain his childhood, but aang is also helping sokka regain his sense of humanity. the sokka of book 3 is someone who enjoys “wacky, time wasting nonsense” and throws beach parties, a far cry from the sokka of book 1 who thought fun and joy were luxuries no one could afford. his selfless love for aang is also self-affirming, helps him to embrace aang’s point of view, to love himself slightly more than he otherwise would have. because to love aang is to necessarily let kindness into your life; it’s to learn how to be free.
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themillsdaughter · 21 hours
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a privilege I deprive myself of
Synopsis: you would rather chew glass than see Melissa yearn for something and not have it delivered to her. the thing, however, is that your life is a shitshow, and what was meant to be an act of kindness upends any effort you've made throughout the years to keep your feelings hidden.
or slightly insecure! Melissa and traumatized! reader in a Valentine's Day au inspired by this prompt.
Words: 3.9k
Warnings: Talks of body image.
Also, my first time dabbling in this fandom and character, so... Hope you like it!
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This isn’t ideal.
Valentine's Day has never been your favorite. Truthfully, you think it’s only yet another excuse for Capitalism to suck some extra cash out of millions of pockets.
You’ve thought this your entire life, regardless of being in a relationship or not. The thing, however, is that you live in a capitalist society and escaping the emotional reliance on the holiday is damn near impossible. So, throughout the years, you’ve come to terms with at least doing something for partners on the day.
Well, that is, until you’d walked in your apartment one day and found your girlfriend straddling a woman you’d never seen before.
This year, you’re single, so the whole thing had just slipped into the background, a red and pink festival more than anything else, really.
“You’re not doing anything?” Janine had asked a few days before in the teachers' lounge, brow furrowed, pity shining in her eyes. Dear God. “You know, Galentine’s Day is really popular now.”
“Honey, I barely want to celebrate the day when I have someone. Why would I make a fuss now that I have an out?” You’d gone back to grading, trying your damnest not to roll your eyes.
“Well, Tariq used to be like that, too. Even though we were together. Sometimes he would forget and go on trips, and those times were pretty lonely… You know, with all the hearts and chocolate and candles and couples around. Not that that’s the case this year, you know. I’m with Maurice, and he’s super attentive.” Her uncomfortable fidgeting had made her chair squeak. As sweet as she is, she should really learn how to stop projecting. “Anyways, I just worry about you. I don’t want you to feel lonely.”
“I don’t.”
“She doesn’t.” Melissa had said, at the same time as you. Looking up from the papers, you’d shared a grin with her. “She has enough wondering thoughts to keep her company.”
Finally, you’d given into your urge and rolled your eyes.
So this really isn’t ideal.
“I think this one is too tight, though.” The voice coming from your phone said. You turned the heat from the stove down, placed a half-lid over the pan, and picked up the device from the counter. On the screen, you saw something that made you pull out a stool from your island and thank God that the woman on the other side of the line was too busy looking at herself in the mirror, brows furiously furrowed, to notice.
Melissa had her hair up in a messy bun, her old pair of glasses hanging in the middle of her nose, and a dark red dress on that stole the breath from your lungs.
The material was soft, with satin-like finish, puffy long sleeves, a square neckline that showed her cleavage to perfection and a skirt that hit her a few inches above her knees.
Nervously, her hands tried to smooth over the creases formed on the dress by her belly.
“Maybe I could wear some spanks” she sighed. “It’s too tight, right?” She turned back to where the phone was, asking you directly.
For a few seconds, you struggled to think of something other than ‘uh’ to say. Melissa is stunning and, in those moments, you wished you’d been braver back when you’d had the chance. Maybe, she’d be asking Barbara this, getting ready as a surprise for you, not for somebody else. 
In a breath, you swallowed that feeling, locking it away with all the ones of its kind, somewhere deep, deep in your soul.
“Hun? It’s too tight, isn’t it? Who the fuck do I think I am trying on something like this.” She’d taken your silence as disapproval, and if she only knew you’d only want to see that off of her if you’d taken it out yourself…
“Shut up, will you?” You finally said. “It’s gorgeous, it looks awesome on you.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s the nicest one of the bunch.”
“I don’t know if I have spanks short enough for it, though. And I need something to get this under control.” She pushed her belly in again, and it enraged you.
“Anyone who doesn’t find that hot is not someone you should listen to.” You said, holding back the rant that always appeared on the tip of your tongue when she said shit like this.
Honestly, the struggle of straight men to like women is mind-boggling.
“You might just be too gay for this.” Melissa snorted, going into her drawer in search of the spanks.
“Well, fuck you very much.”
She barked out a laugh, and you let go of your phone to stir the food you were cooking, glad for a break from the glory of the woman you did not love like that.
Which is yet another reason why this isn’t ideal.
You don’t really care for Valentine's Day, but on the morning of the 14th, Melissa had seemed off. You tried touching on the subject while you two got coffee, as weak as Abbott’s brew always was, however, Gary walked in in all of his mustached glory and her attention immediately shifted to him.
He’s her boyfriend, it’s Valentine's Day, it was only logical.
She gave him hint after hint, pushed her shoulders a bit back, highlighting her breasts just slightly, cocked her hips some while leaning against the sink, licked her lips more than usual, everything to get an ounce of attention back. The absolute idiot fussed over the vending machine, mumbled a few words to her, eyes not even moving in her direction, before leaving with a “see ya later” tossed behind him.
The look that had taken over her face then had made your heart sink.
“He’s been like this all week.” She said during lunch break in your car. “Barbara thinks he might be planning something, says he’s not cheating, but I don’t know… I tried fooling myself with getting the perfect outfit, getting my hair and my nails done, but he hasn’t mentioned any plans, and he’s been so fucking distant, he doesn’t even seem like himself. And I really can’t handle another Joe situation.” Taking the last bite of the Shepard’s pie you’d brought her, she leaned her head against the rest.
To nearly everybody else here, she shows her angry, reactive, gray side. It’s easier for her, something that still makes her an outcast, but firmly protects her inner-self. But some magical, all-powerful, incredible being out there had made it so you were the one she chose to show her other side to, the one that is not always confident, not in her worth or her looks or her ability as a teacher.
The one that loves so intensely it scares her, and the one that has so many scars she spends half her time trying to heal them, or, at the very least, stop them from bleeding all over the place and being visible to the outside world.
“What do you think?” She said, bringing you back to the inside of your 2010s Honda. “You’ve always been better at these things.”
“Do I think he’s cheating on you?”
She nodded.
“Well, first of all, if he is, he is an absolute deepshit who doesn’t know how to count his blessing for you even giving him the time of day.”
You looked into her eyes while you said it, and she turned her head after, staring at the Tupperware in her hands. You thought you saw a blush creeping up on her cheeks.
“But I don’t think he is. Hey, maybe he’s just seen Valentine’s Day for what it is!” You nudged her arm with the back of your hand. “Maybe you’re the one who has to get on board.”
She relented a smile then, but it didn’t last.
“Mel, I think you’ll just have to ride this one out. Wait until the end of the day, so then you can actually have a conversation with him. If he really forgot or if there’s really something wrong, you’ll find out, but, honestly, me? I think he might just have some goofy-ass surprise planned.”
Melissa nodded while keeping her gaze out the window.
There’s a beat, then another, and you thought perhaps you’d convinced her, and she was only taking some time to absorb it.
“You know, you may not feel lonely with this kind of stuff, but…” She paused, voice tired, heart bearing all those tender scars, “I think I’m more like Janine than I’d thought.”
So, hm, this isn’t ideal.
You’d be damned if you let a man who didn’t realize the one in a million he had found ruin Melissa’s day.
Even if Valentine’s Day was traumatic for you, even if it was silly and forced and the world would be better off without it, Melissa was Melissa, and she deserved everything she wanted out of life. You’d thought Gary would see it, but if he didn’t, it’s up to you, even with all your emotional limitations.
So you wrote a little card. Nothing much, just made out of a fancier piece of purple paper you’d had lying around the classroom, with a heart-sticker you’d found at the bottom of your purse decorating the front page. Inside, the note wasn’t all that special, just enough for her to know she would never be alone. That you loved her. That she’d always have you, even if one day she didn’t have anyone else. That she’s your favorite, and if she wanted to, you’d take her out for dinner yourself.
As a friend, of course. Truly.
The fact she made your chest inflate and your pressure drop and a flock of butterflies run a full marathon in your stomach were not things that were included.
After sending the students home, saying goodbye to everyone else (Gregory and his Legos, Janine and her designer bag she knew nothing about, Ava and her many flings and Jacob and his slam poetry), you’d walked to the lounge, where you’d seen Barb and Mel walking towards only a few minutes earlier.
On the way there, you’d seen a bouquet of gerberas discarded on the hallway floor. You’d wondered if a poor kid had gotten broken up with on that day of all days, or if the bouquet held any card of its own. You’d picked it up, deciding to bring it to the compost pile later.
You hadn’t realized how it looked until it had been too late.
“Hey, Mel, I have something for…” You’d started, rounding the corner to enter the room.
“I love you too.” She’d said, looking into Gary’s eyes. In a split second, you’d registered there was something off about her voice, something lacking.
And now here you are, in this less than ideal situation.
All three look at you, standing in the doorway with a card and flowers, calling after another person’s girlfriend. Shit.
“What do you have for her?” Gary’s hand tightens on her waist just so.
So, yeah. Not fucking ideal.
“Hey, look at that. I uh…actually forgot the… ah… The book I was lending you.” You mumble. Spinning on your heels, you walk as fast as humanly possible without breaking into a sprint.
Stupid-ass, invented, asinine holiday.
******
You’re more than half-way through a bottle of Merlot when your doorbell rings.
“Fucking finally!” You shout, jumping from your couch, your belly clenching painfully. Opening up your front door, though, your shoulders drop. “You’re not Postmates.”
“No, I am not. You know what else I also am not? Enjoying this beautiful night with my husband.” Barbara floods you with words, walking past you into the living room.
“Why is that, exactly?” And maybe you’re starting to get drunk, because she seems furious with you, and you can’t remember the last time that ever happened.
“Because I cannot possibly enjoy what was supposed to be a romantic moment with Gerald when I get a desperate phone call from my best friend’s partner asking me if I know where she is.”
It’s too many words too fast, so you sit back down and blink hard, trying to focus.
“What are you talking about?”
“Gary called me. He doesn’t know where Melissa is.”
Melissa. Suddenly, the reason you’d started drinking comes back to you. Shit. Shit shit shit.
“Have you seen her?” Barbara seems to take pity on you, be it for your drunkenness or the way your face scrunches up at the name.
“Not since this afternoon, no. What happened?”
“Gary says she went after you, came back in a different mood. Then they got into an argument in the middle of dinner, because she didn’t seem to be enjoying it, which is strange considering she spent the day worrying he wouldn’t do anything special, as we both know.” She sits down on the futon in front of you. “He says she broke up with him right then and there, and left.”
What?
“What?”
“I don’t understand it either. What did you say to her in the hallway?”
“Nothing, I didn’t talk to her in the hallway, or at all.”
Barbara looks away, shaking her head with an incredulous smile on her lips.
“You two are… God forgive me, but infuriating.” She turns back, sighing. “Did she text you? I’ve called and called, but she hasn’t picked up. She’s not at her house, either.”
“I don’t know.” You pull your phone from the middle of the cushions. “It’s been on focus mode the whole night, I only got notifications for my food.”
“Can you try her? Maybe she’ll pick up if it’s you.”
“You’re starting to freak me out.”
“Yes, well, at least we’ll be on the same page.”
The line rings three times before going to voicemail. Then, there’s someone pressing your doorbell again. Your stomach aches.
Again, not Postmates.
“You’re an asshole!” It’s the first thing out of Melissa’s mouth. As the second person today pushes her way into your home, Barbara jumps up from her seat.
“You’re alive, you’re whole?” She turns Melissa over, taking advantage of the woman’s confusion at seeing her here. “Are you stupidly drunk?”
“Uh… No. Why…”
“Are you going to make any decisions that might land you in jail?”
“No.”
“Thank you, Jesus!” Barbara shouts, letting go of the redhead, lifting her hands in praise, and walking to the door. “Please, resolve your issues and let me have steak in peace. I’ll call your boy-“ She looks Melissa over. “I’ll call Gary, let him know you’re okay. Goodbye. Also, you’re both on probation until further notice.”
She closes the door behind her with a bang, and the two of you are left alone, staring at each other.
Her make-up is smudged, as if she’d been crying, and that beautiful, beautiful red dress shines under the light. The vision worries you at the same time it set’s the butterflies off.
Once more, with feeling: this is not ideal.
It feels like forever goes by, just like this, with neither of you moving or speaking or looking away.
Until she unclenches her fist, and you see your card, the one you’d lost on your rush to leave.
“You couldn’t have picked a better moment?” Melissa asks, placing the piece of paper on your entrance table. Her anger, so explosive moments ago, is low and dangerous now, simmering with the hurt in her eyes.
“Listen, I know how it looked-“
“Any other moment.” She keeps going, incapable of stopping now that she’s started. “Maybe one of the endless times when we sat on that fucking couch watching those boring movies you like. Or… Or maybe one of the nights when we spent hours pouring over project ideas or education strategies. Or really any other time before I made the decision to move on.”
Her heart is there, right in front of you, in the tears that drown the gorgeous green of her irises. Somehow, you feel like this is the cataclysm of thoughts and words and feelings you had both held back for years. 
“What?” You mumble for the second time tonight.
“I found every excuse in the book to avoid this, to avoid looking for someone else. And some of it was true, really. Joe did a number on me, which you know – which is why that just hurt worse.” She points to the card, bent in half and slightly crumbled. “But most of it was crap, and I knew it was crap, but I convinced myself it wasn’t because you weren’t ready, but you are amazing, and maybe it was better to wait just a little longer to see if you ever got your shit together, if you ever got over what that ex of yours did. But you never, ever did.”
“Melissa, the flowers…”
“Yeah, gerberas, my favorites, I know. That was a nice touch. You probably knew he wouldn’t remember that detail.”
“No, Mel, I didn’t buy them.” You step forward, past the table, close enough to reach out and touch her arm, if you were brave enough. You never are.
“What, are you gonna tell me you grew them too?” She snorts, humorlessly. “You know, the worst part is that you encouraged me. You told me to go after him, to let him woo me. Even this morning! You told me to wait for him, just to pull this crap.”
She raises her hand, wipes her eyes, and Christ, what the hell have you done?
She breathes in, and it would be wondrous if it weren’t terrifying, how she puts her heart away, takes the part reserved just for you to see and hides it from view.
“I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know, and this whole time you’ve been leading me on, never really letting me go, no, but still pushing me away.”
In love you with you. In love you with you.
I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.
It reverberates inside your brain as if an echo in a museum. In love with you.
The person who lights up your days without a fail, the woman who’s made every single potential partner pale in comparison, a staple in your life so important that the mere thought of risking something that could make you lose her had forced you to bury all warm and fuzzy feelings. That woman. This woman. Melissa. Your Melissa. In love with you.
You feel your past is too broken to believe her, but still the thought of her being this hurt is unacceptable.
“Mel, I didn’t write the card to steal you away.”
You risk it now, because you feel her slipping through your fingers, and not seeing her heart when she looks into your eyes makes you feel the loneliest you ever have. You risk reaching over, placing one hand on each of her upper arms. The fabric there is so soft it surprises you.
She flinches, but allows it.
“Just to keep me from giving up, right?”
“You know me better than that.” You try, throat tight. You damn sure hope she does. “I wrote it because you seemed really hurt, and just in case Gary messed up, I wanted you to know you at least had me. You’ll always have me.”
She shakes her head, eyes welling up again.
“What a great pal you are.” Melissa whispers.
“I found the fucking flowers on the floor, I was gonna take them to the trash.” You lose your patience for a split second, because maybe you were tactless, but this is a bit too far, even for such a stubborn woman.
She raises a brow.
“I’m not trying to cover my ass.”
“’You’re the person I think about the most’” She quotes the card. “Did you mean that?”
“Of course.” You say without a thought.
“As a friend?” She challenges.
No. Yes. Maybe. It’s on the tip of your tongue.
If you risk this next step, will you lose her eventually? Like you have every other woman you have loved like this? Will you lose yet another person, yet another soul you feel you can rest beside?
You let your hands travel down slightly.
“Mostly.” She breaks eye contact, frowning. “I cherish our friendship so much, Melissa. But part of me wanted to say more. To say things that weren’t purely platonic. I didn’t mean to steer you around.” You sigh. This is… a lot. “I want to see you happy, Mel. More than anything in the world, you deserve that. And I just felt like allowing myself to feel all those things for you would jeopardize that. You’re an explosive, hot-headed, weird, outlaw Italian with a great mind and a huge, huge heart, and you’re definitely too good for me.”
She shakes her head again, but looking at those amazing, gorgeous, breathtaking green orbs, you find a glimpse of that other side of hers, even if the tears are still there, hiding underneath the surface.
“Today, I only wanted to make sure you would be okay. And I’m sorry about the misunderstanding. I truly didn’t want to ruin that moment for you.” Finally, you reach her hands, and she holds yours back. You fit. “And I have only ever encouraged you to go out there because I really believe you deserve to have the fullest life you can possibly have, and that’s probably with someone… less damaged. Someone good and kind. Someone like Gary.”
Melissa mumbles to herself in Italian.
Forse sarebbe più facile.
“But I don’t love Gary.” She says simply, in English, relaxing into your touch, sending your blood pressure through the roof.
I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.
“I know.” You say.
You had seen it in her eyes when she’d returned his declaration earlier, the emptiness, the masking, the guilt for lying. She wanted to love him so badly.
She’d looked at you back then and, for a split second, before the confusion and embarrassment that had followed, she’d seemed relieved, as if saying there’s the one who sees me. And something more.
Now, the something more is clearer.
“I know you’re scared.” She whispers again. “And you always, always try to protect me from these things. Never when I get myself mixed up with family business or get into fights…”
“Well, I trust your right hook for that.” You can’t help yourself. She snorts very, very softly, and maybe there’s hope yet.
“But you always try to keep me safe from this, even from you.” Melissa lets go of one your hands, placing a palm against your cheek. Oh, so that’s what it means to have a heart attack. “But I have never, ever, been afraid of your baggage, you jackass.” The spark of defiance that flashes through her expression pulls a smile from you.
If someone had asked you yesterday if this happening was something you thought possible, you’d laugh them out of the room.
“I just wished you’d given me that god-damn card before I’d wasted this dress on somebody else and had broken a man’s heart for nothing.”
“Poor Gary,” you whisper.
“Yeah… Poor Gary.”
So, perhaps it’s not ideal, with the tears and heartache and being on Barb’s bad side, but she leans up on her tip toes, squeezing your hand, palm migrating down to hold your neck, and despite not being ideal, it does feel oddly right.
“I don’t give a fuck if you hate Valentine’s Day and you think this is corny. You better kiss me before I lose my nerve, or I swear to…”
For the first time in your adult life, you forgo your mind, trying something with risks that may far outweigh the good. With a tug, you pull her in, leaning down, breath catching in your throat when your lips connect, and you find you don’t give two shits about the risks.
Heaven.
Of course, your doorbell rings not five seconds later. Fucking Postmates.
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thoughtfulchaos773 · 2 days
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Thanks @vacationship for pointing out that Sydney initiates the first touch with Carmy in Review. As an obsessive person, I will analyze the choice to touch Carmy and the buildup to it.
(Warning: This might bring up some annoyance with Carmy. However, the tension and buildup leading to his explosion in this episode are incredibly well done. Looking back on the episode, it speaks to Carmy's character development season 2.)
So we fast forward to Ebra reading the review, revealing Sydney's dish as the restaurant's highlight.
Ribbon of brine, huh?
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Carmy was already busy but noticed he didn't initiate eye contact with her like usual. The only time he looks her way is to shake his head in disappointment-hurt-anger that this dish she makes herself and that he says isn't ready. It gets a green light. Really, it's about Carmys not being genuinely ready to change for their relationship to develop. Carmy doesn't do this until fast forward - he loses Sydney.
Maybe the lack of eye contact tells us there's a disconnect, and there will continue to be a disconnect between them throughout the episode. And the GLARE carmy makes at Sydney. Everyone should already know shit about to blow up.
Carmy was ANGRY.
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He's nodding in agreement, but you can make it out that he's stewing while sydney is asking for understanding, something he's struggling to give.
Sidebar: it brings up the importance of Tina's say hello to Jeff's friend. Carmy isn't feeling that connection - that friendship right now.so Tina saying that adds fuel to his fire.
Fast forward to more buildup, Richie and Sydney's argument. Carmy comes up with his baggage, ready to end the fight between him, but he is not much help.
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Carmy intervenes, and there's still no steady eye contact with Sydney.
Oh and the importance of Sydney saying WE are learning (call back to carmy asking Sydney in 1x03 bridgade, WE want to make this place better, right?). Early on, they established their bond, but Carmy makes sure, maybe out of spite, to say the new system was her idea.
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This is when Sydney really notices they are not on the same page. That he's pushing her away.
Which is what makes her make the unconscious decision to touch carmy. A plea to connect again.
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Carmy stops like she asks him to through touch. Even though he was ready to walk away, he couldn't help but take a moment to pause even though they're under pressure with time. And for the first time, he really looks at her. His eyes come up even though he's still in his feelings about the whole thing.
That also tells us about Carmy's character. He doesn't talk about his feelings, which reminds me of episode 2x06 'Fishes', where Mikey had to practically drag out of Carmy the reason why he was so angry with him. When Carmy is hurt, he either explodes quickly or lets it brew until it's too late. There's no balance in his anger.
But Sydney helps with this. With their relationship, they want to keep the connection going, and in order to do that, with disagreements, there needs to be a goal to always maintain connection.
Arguments happen even with the most compatible people. It isn't toxic as some naysayers use it as an excuse to this ship. both strives to connect and carmy, although angry stops to give Sydney a minute.
But he still turned away and didn't hash it out with her. He didn't check early on if she was okay. This could be a lesson learned- a blow up may not have happened if he had given Sydney more time and connected with her despite his anger.
This gesture reveals a lot about their relationship dynamic, and looking back, it helps me appreciate Carmy's character growth. His desire to improve communication and become a better partner for Sydney? Sydney being the same way and their efforts to maintain their relationship is what makes the ship so compelling.
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bellasprettywords · 21 hours
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Hey, I love your writing! I was wondering if you’d do a little something based off of the lyrics “Well, every once in awhile, she'll find my number in her phone and we'll talk for hours She'll tell me things I would have never known about when we were together She's saying, "Sorry, it's just such a long walk home" So she's coming over cause it's better than being alone” Spencer Reid x female reader. I was thinking more like a Midwest emo alt type of character, totally not someone you’d expect Spencer to go for?
I think your nose is bleeding (Spencer Reid x Reader)
Thank you very very much for the request!! I hope you like this little one shot, because I didn't know the song, but I hope I could meet your expectations🩷✨
My masterlist
Requests are always open🥰
Warnings: Mmm apart of it being a little messy, I think there's nothing, but it fluff
Word count: 1,232
y/n – your name
Spencer and you were kind of an odd couple, excuse me, a couple of friends for the untrained eye. While he’s a trained scholar with a collection of PhDs on Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering; with an impressive job as a profiler at the FBI, which most of the time had him travelling all around the country, and a shy personality with socially awkward tints, and a genius brain. You are a tattoo artist with a free spirit, a soft spot for poetry, love for sassy comebacks, and a special love for midwest emo music. Once upon a time, almost a year ago, Spencer and you were a couple, but the two of you decided to leave things as friends, because your lifestyles were quite different, which made a relationship considerably difficult for you. However, the two of you decided to stay friends, which seemed kind of easier as you established a set of rules to make sure everything between the two of you could flow naturally.
Even if it was as friends, you knew that the two of you seemed like polar opposites, but the love you shared always made you be better for each other, growing up, learning about the other’s point of view, and becoming empathetic, even if you didn’t see eye to eye under certain circumstances. After your break-up, Spencer and you learned to compromise and commit to make sure the friendship could work, sure, sometimes it was hard considering his packed schedule, and your love for spontaneous adventures.
It was a little later than you would usually close the tattoo studio, so you decided to call Spencer to see what he was up to; you hadn’t talked in a while, so you weren’t even sure if he was in the city, but it was worth it to take the shot.
“Hey, y/n, it’s nice to hear from you” you heard Spencer’s voice through the phone
“How are you, mighty Doctor Reid?” you asked excited because, deep down, you were really longing to hear Spencer’s voice
“I’m… I’m alright, you know, just doing my thing; how are you? It’s been ages” he said trying to hide his own excitement to hear from you. Sure, you were friends, but deep down Spencer hoped that with time and more organization, maybe someday the two of you could rekindle your previous relationship
“It’s only been a couple of weeks, but I know what you mean! I’ve missed you Spence, I hope I’m not interrupting you at work or anything” you said, walking to your car
“No, I’m just home solving a puzzle, and deciding what to order for dinner” he said
“Uh, that’s nice, I was actually thinking about going to Little India to get take out. I’m really craving chicken curry, want anything?” you said jokingly, pretty sure Spencer wouldn’t catch the subtext
“Uh… sure, some chicken tikka masala and flatbread would be pretty amazing, thank you for asking” Spencer said, ensuring you he didn’t catch the joke
“An order or chicken tikka masala, white rice, and flatbread, coming right up” you said getting ready to hang up the call, when Spencer interrupted
“Wait, don’t hang up” he said as you turned on your car engine “I want to go with you, if that’s okay, I mean, if it’s not an imposition” he stuttered this time
“It would be delightful, sure, I love talking to you” you said with a shy smile forming on your lips, “What have you been up to? Any cool cases I can know about?” you asked Spencer
“I flew in today from Atlanta, we went to solve a case there” Spencer stared telling you all about the case, the unsub and how the team managed to save the victims that were abducted, when a car cut you off and honcked at you
“Jerk” you said under your breath
“y/n! are you okay? what was that?” Spencer asked frantically
“I’m okay, I’m okay, it was just some jerk” you said hoping to soothe Spencer’s concern “Did you know I hate driving?” you asked the young doctor
“I didn’t know that” he said sounding quite surprised at your revelation
“I really do! That’s why I’d always ask you if we could carpool when we were together” you confessed
“Hu… That would’ve been useful information back then” he said, making sure of making a mental note about that, to ensure to drive you whenever he could do it
The two of you kept talking, and the 40-minute drive that you needed to get to your favorite Indian restaurant, suddenly felt like a 5-minute stroll with the one you loved. Talking to Spencer like this felt amazing, it was peaceful, it almost felt natural like breathing, he always had the right words for you and even when you paused the conversation for a little while, the silence between the two of you was incredibly comfortable. You arrived at your destination and while you were ordering the food, Spencer stayed on the line with you, speaking about an impressive number of folkloric Indian stories, and facts about the country. You picked up the food and drove to Spencer’s apartment, this time, the drive was quite short, but that didn’t mean it was least pleasant with Spence’s rambling
When you arrived to the apartment building, Spencer was already downstairs waiting for you
“Hey boy-genious, I was at least hoping I could separate the orders before giving them to you” you said, a little butt hurt that apparently, Spencer didn’t even want you on his apartment
“What are you talking about? I’m here to help you carry the bags upstairs” he said a little confused by your comment
“Oh, I thought… Never mind” you said brushing off the butterflies that starter fluttering inside your stomach
“I’m really glad you called, you had no idea how much I missed you” Spencer said as you were entering the apartment building
“I missed you too Spence” you said
The night went amazingly, and the damn butterflies wouldn’t go anywhere. The two of you eat dinner together, and it almost felt as you have never broken up, the conversation flowed, and you could feel how this was one of those moments you’d always treasure in your heart
“I should get going, it’s a really long drive home” you said as soon as the clock struck 12:00 am
“Don’t go, please, just… stay the night” Spencer pleaded with his puppy eyes
“I really shouldn’t” you replied, avoiding eye contact with Spencer. Sure, one would argue that a friend can stay over at another friend’s apartment, but you knew that with Spencer it would be complicated, especially as you weren’t over him yet
“I’m begging you, I may seem alright, but as soon as I go to bed without you I feel so… empty and alone. This apartment is not the same without you, as a matter of fact, my life is not the same without you” Spencer said taking your chin so you could look at him in the eye
“If I stay the night, I may never leave” you said, gifting Spencer a side smile
“Maybe I just don’t want you to leave” Spencer said, leaning forward and starring intensively into your eyes, so you did what any normal person who has the object of his or her desire would’ve done: you leaned forward, and kissed Spencer
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Unknown, Ep 11: To Grow Taller
Alright y’all, I just want to say that I am not super thrilled with how Episode 11 went. I felt like they completely obliterated the emotional build up to the change over after they did such a great job of navigating it in Episode 10. 
So as much as there were some lovely images of hands, I’m not that interested in writing about it. So it is time, it is time to do the thing I should have done long ago. 
It is time to write about Lili and San Pang. 
Hands down my favorite part of this episode (and probably one of my favorite scenes of the series) was seeing the two of them interact, of seeing more of Lili’s inner workings, of understanding that she knows more than she lets on. I loved Yuan telling Qian that Lili is smart, and I loved the proud little smile Qian had when he heard that. 
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The most important scene in this episode, to me, starts with the height wall. That thing has been causing me psychic damage since episode one. It pans down to Lili. I like how long the camera lingers on her eyes. Lili has seen everything that has happened in their lives and she’s been spared from a lot of the violence, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t beared witness to it. 
I was really struck by her words to San Pang: 
“When we were little, Qian was always there to help us with everything we did. He would measure our height every year. I always wondered when I could grow taller than him. Then I could protect him.” 
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I know we have seen Lili constantly take a back seat in this story. We have seen her even acknowledge Qian’s focus on Yuan multiple times throughout the show. We don’t see her doing as much for Qian as Yuan does. She doesn’t know how to wrap up leftovers, she’s not a great cook, she doesn’t try to pay the household bills. But that’s because she loves Qian like a sister does, she’s got a secure position in the household, she’s not trying to be Qian’s partner, and it is a testament to Qian’s love for Lili that she does not know how to do some of the basic life things, because it means that she’s been so well taken care of she hasn’t been forced to learn.
There are all these little elements scattered across the series that show Qian’s love for Lili. The picture on his desk at home is of him, Yuan, and Lili at Qian’s graduation. He has the magazine she’s featured in on display. He immediately softens on his anger towards her relationship with San Pang when she asks him to go on a family vacation. 
She has seen how much Qian has suffered, and she loves Qian enough to want to shield him from any more harm. 
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And San Pang is so lovely in this scene, with his head resting on the stair railing, a sleepy look of love on his face as he stares at Lili. I love the way San Pang smiles to himself when she tells him this. Because Qian is family to San Pang and San Pang is family to Qian. San Pang loves Qian and wants what is best for him always. And I do think there is a difference there between the soft, dreamy, comfortable expression he has when looking at the woman he loves, and the small smile that lights up his eyes at the thought of Lili loving her brother enough to want to protect him.
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Lili’s face is serious, and she does not always look in San Pang’s direction when she talks:  
“Even though he is a few years older than us, his hands are always covered in scars and calluses.” Lili tells the ground. It’s interesting to me to see when she is comfortable enough reviving a memory to look San Pang in the eyes because she doesn’t do so until partway through her hand cream story:
“One year, I took the hand cream my classmates gave me” she looks at San Pang “and rubbed it on his hands at midnight.”
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The camera cuts to San Pang who is listening to Lili absolutely enraptured by her. And I do have to commend the show for how they have navigated Lili and San Pang’s relationship change. In very few frames, with little fanfare or flare they have made San Pang and Lili’s relationship clear, understandable, and believable. We’ve had like, two minutes of them together up through now, and all I need to believe these two will be together forever is all in the way that San Pang looks at Lili. That man is not only head over heels in love with Xiao Bao, he’s ass over tea kettle in love with her as well. 
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“He scolded me for it. Do you know why?”
“I do.” San Pang says with a smile. And I love that because we remember that San Pang and Qian have grown up together. San Pang has been helping take care of Qian and the rest of the family for years. You know in the way that San Pang smiles that he is remembering Qian as a young man complaining about Lili lotioning his hands in the middle of the night. Hell, I can picture Qian’s rant right now. “Because it smelled like roses.”
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Lili laughs and covers her face in embarrassment. “That’s right.”  
But like a lot of scenes in this show, the transition from lighthearted to more serious changes on a dime. Lili’s face slips back in to a frown as she turns over a thought. “Nobody cares about Qian.”
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And this is what it feels like sometimes, with how stubborn Qian is, with how much weight he wants to carry for himself, with how much debt he owes to the likes of Le, Xiong, and San Pang. But they don’t expect repayment, they did this because they care about Qian. San Pang has helped Qian weather many many storms. He has pushed when Qian needed pushing, he has pulled when Qian needed to be held back. 
“Yes, they do. We all love your brother.” 
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Qian has so much love in his life, if only he stopped long enough to see it. If only he let go long enough to feel it. I was not thrilled with how they fumbled so much of the emotional weight of Qian and Yuan getting together in this episode, but I am glad the show took time to highlight how much they all love Qian and to show the audience that they want to protect Qian just as much as Qian wants to protect the rest of them. 
All this to say San Pang and Lili work incredibly well together as a couple, and I’m so happy that we got to have this little moment between them, both to breathe a bit more life in to their relationship and to remind us all that Yuan is right. Lili is not as naive as she seems.
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All gifs by the lovely, wonderful, marvelous @wanderlust-in-my-soul. THANK YOU SO MUCH YOU ARE THE BEST <3
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Ok regarding that “can i make Yves do my homework if I give him my childhood pictures” ask, exactly how much access does Yves have to our lives? Does he have images or videos from when we were still a baby or would they be new information to him?
A bunch of my baby pictures and videos are lost because my dad lost the computer that had them but we recently found my aunt’s old camera filled with our childhood pictures, it was a pleasant surprise for us but would it be for Yves too?
It absolutely is. If Yves was there with you while your aunt showed you the photo gallery of her old camera, Yves would momentarily lose a bit of inhibition and let his pupils dilate to a maddening degree before instantly constricting it back to appear normal. It's a rare, super deluxe edition photos of you, there isn't anything else like it out there as they're most likely not uploaded to the internet or a cloud based service, where he could easily hack.
Him coming across media from your childhood or at least during those early days where people still go to and get their photos developed, is like winning the lottery for him. Because, although he tries to collect everything relating to your existence, there is only so much he can do in a day. He rather prioritizes the present and the future, as the past is the past; neither you nor him can change it, he can only understand or connect it to your current behaviours or thought patterns.
He does have some information about you as a baby or a child, but that is if they're "readily available" to him. (I.e., it can be found in predictable places like in your childhood home.), that is why, Yves would try to build a good relationship with people you grew up with, to extract information.
Despite being reclusive as he is, Yves would never fail to attend every and any family gathering he is invited to or expected to come. Encouraging that drunk uncle to drink more if he knew he has something to say about you, bribing your relatives with gifts and career opportunities, perhaps even drugging that really difficult and combative cousin to make them more bearable to interrogate.
As soon as he knew your aunt could be another goldmine of your data, he would get to work. Wasting no time building a rapport with her, it's a piece of cake given how obsessive and manipulative his nature is.
Inevitably, your aunt will come to love him and see Yves as family. By extension, her relationship with you will skyrocket too, she will invite you to her place much more often even though she might not be the most sociable person in the first place. Yves will find a way to make her bend to his whims.
The majority of their conversations would be about you, only sometimes Yves would talk about something else if it meant he could keep the drive to spill more about your lore going. His sharp ears and mind will pick up on clues as to where he might find more pictures or writings about you. He would then break into your aunt's home to give it a thorough shakedown and leave without a trace. Yves would repeat this process until he's positive that she has nothing left to offer. That camera is getting fucking stolen and replaced with a duplicate.
It didn't matter if your aunt was a minimalist or a severe hoarder, he would go through all her things just to try and find pieces of your puzzle. He would wade through cobwebs, dust piles, rat droppings and mould if he had to, Yves isn't scared to get dirty to obtain what he wants, "squeamish" isn't in his vocabulary.
When she is robbed of all your essence, Yves would become distant. Not hostile towards her, just cold and indifferent. He would still maintain some sort of relationship with her though, in case she becomes useful again later. As of now, he either puts his entire focus on your current peripheral and direct life, or start to hunt other members down- from his snooping, he had learned of other people who may have valuable input about your childhood.
All of this is happening in the background. You wouldn't suspect a thing, there wasn't a dip in his attention for you. In fact, he may have gotten a lot more smothering, as Yves would be shaking at the thought of testing out his new theories and hypothesis that were birthed from his new knowledge.
He just loves you so much that he couldn't help himself but to get greedy. Yves wants all of you; past, present and future. And any version of you that could have been.
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sflow-er · 2 days
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I heard people are mad because they feel like August should be apologizing to Simon also, and I think that’s like, a no-brainer because of course he will – – he’s changed now. He’s not the same person who did that thing so – – we saw him suffer and now he apologized to Wille whom he knows and then – – I’m sure when [August and Simon] meet, he’s going to talk to [Simon] about it too. Linnéa Roxeheim, director of S3 eps 5& 6, PRP interview 59:00-59:22 (– – used for legibility, the redacted phrase is 'you know')
So...this kind of seems to confirm something I've been thinking since I watched the season: the lack of apology from August to Simon feels less like an intentional, character-defining writing choice and more like a mishap overlooking or even retconning the August-Simon conflict.
Some thoughts under the cut.
That conflict was one of the central building blocks and driving forces back in S1. Simon wouldn't have ended up selling drugs if it wasn't for August looking to buy, Wille wouldn't have found out about August's finances and been able to use them against him, and Alexander would not have been framed to save Simon. And for that matter, August's eagerness to pin the blame on Simon was likely fuelled by the fact that he wasn't just a sosse sleeping with Wille, but also a constant thorn in August's side. Someone who had even physically roughed August up at one point.
Still, I do believe August's decision to post the video mainly concerned Wille. I've written about that too many times to rehash it again; let's just take his dismissive reaction when Sara says Simon is distraught in S1E6 at face value. And that made perfect sense for his character, considering his only moral code at the time was (elite) loyalty.
However. From S2 on, the history between August and Simon has been sidelined, and the focus has been on the conflict between August and Wille.
We didn't see Simon suffer any more daily consequences from the video in S2. He could already sing karaoke in Bjärstad without people giving him dirty looks, and both the rumour mill at Hillerska and the hate comments online had stopped. Not being allowed to sing his song at the Jubilee was a concrete consequence, but even that felt more like an obstacle for Wilmon and an opportunity for Wille to stand up for them. Simon and August barely even interacted over the season - but at least Simon did refer to Sara knowing everything August had done to him in the gun range scene, so that was something.
I had hoped for the August-Simon conflict to be picked up again in S3. Even if the writers wanted to focus on other relationships and tensions, to me, it felt too essential to pass up. It would have been a clear sign of August learning the accountability and empathy that he needed to grow, and it would have also provided some much-needed closure for Simon (and tied the series together as a whole). I guess the writers felt differently.
Even though the focus on Simon getting hate on social media again could have provided an easy tie-in, the vile hate messages focused on his and Wille's relationship, as well as him being a POC. Apart from Linda's comment in the settlement negotiation, I don't think the video was even mentioned once in all the hate comments we saw. There was no indication of the media or the public having dragged it back up either (or asked who filmed and leaked it, but that's another matter entirely). Nor were there any references to Simon having already received some hate after the leak - on the contrary, it seemed like he was completely blindsided by all the vitriol. I do realise that the scale was much bigger this time around, but still.
Circling back to the August-Simon conflict, there's also another aspect that is easily overlooked. Namely, that Simon himself actually seemed pretty content to just put all his dealings with August to rest after the settlement was finalised. The only time the two of them even interacted after that was all about Sara. It could have also been an opportunity to show Simon's own feelings, but that didn't materialise.
Don't get me wrong, I'm sure Simon could still use that apology, but I never got the impression that he needed it the way we fans needed to see it. Based on S3, you might even think their only source of conflict was Simon coincidentally being on the video, and when that was settled, Simon was okay just moving on with his life.
Which brings me back to the ending.
I always figured that August was portrayed as genuinely remorseful towards the end. Yes, I would have liked to see more of his growth and development (even just showing his reaction to the sale of Årnäs instead of having Simon say that Wille said it was a fitting punishment would've worked wonders)... But the authorial intent seemed to be that he had already taken enough steps. His and Wille's reconciliation was as sincere as anything could get, with Wille not forgiving him as such but agreeing to move on, start healing, and even wish each other well. Wille was sincere when he congratulated August upon graduation and tapped him as the next king, thinking he was well suited for the job (it's the narrative that frames it as a sort of punishment, not Wille).
Crucially, Simon doesn't seem bothered by this. If both Wille and August had truly just ignored the harm caused to Simon and reconciled amongst themselves, with Wille essentially giving August the position that everyone but August still thought was all August ever wanted...while Simon was still hurting and needing the closure of an apology...well. That would actually make Wille look like kind of a terrible partner even right at the end, which clearly wasn't the intention.
We can't be sure if Wille told Simon about the reconciliation when they talked at the lake, but Simon will still know that Wille stepping down means August stepping up, and he is happy about it. Wilmon are off to start a new chapter in their lives, and we don't get the feeling that the lack of an apology to Simon is left as an unresolved issue between them (or between them and August).
So...yeah. I guess I'm just trying to point out that this seems to be another example of a previously important plot line being dropped from S3, and to a lesser degree, also another example of execution vs. authorial intent.
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cursedvibes · 3 days
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I know you like tenken, takaken and sukume but what are some other relationships or dynamics do you like in jjk and why? Could be romantic, platonic, familial, antagonistic or just plain toxic and fucked up, anything.
Thanks for the interesting ask! These are my favourites at the moment.
Mahito & Yuuji
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I think it's the best antagonistic relationship Yuuji has in the entire manga. I like them both as a ship and platonically for what we get in canon. Although considering the scene in the anime where Mahito tries to murder kiss Yuuji, you could say it's one-sidedly canon.
I miss Mahito a lot lately and come to only appreciate him more and more with time. He was very good at building up a sense of dread and he has a viciousness to him that's lacking in the current Shinjuku fight for me.
He mirrors Yuuji without literally being related to him (so far, who knows what else Gege will reveal to be in Yuuji's gene cocktail). Yuuji learns something from him, reflects upon himself, his actions, who he wants to be and why he fights. They are both still figuring each other and themselves out. Both of them grow during their fights and become more dangerous, desperate and feral any time they meet. I love how Mahito is not only able to break Yuuji, but also to break him. Yuuji's hatred for Sukuna is smouldering, while for Mahito it is a raging fire. Yuuji has nothing to learn from Sukuna and no interest to engage with him anymore, while for Mahito it was raw and personal and resulted in Yuuji embracing the disgusting and ruthless side of himself that makes him so cold against Sukuna.
It's been great to see how even now Mahito still influences Yuuji. He was the first one who really taught him about the soul and what it can be capable of. Any time the soul is brought up, Yuuji's first thought is how Mahito was able to manipulate and contort it. He is able to hurt Sukuna so much because of what he learned from Mahito. As much as I miss Mahito and his personality, it wouldn't make sense to bring him back now, so I'm glad to see his continued impact on Yuuji this way. Overall, what I like about the two is how "juvenile" their conflict is. Cruelty of a child and innocence of a child clashing and both of them improving, growing and maturing through it. I also think it's very fitting that Yuuji never got to exorcise Mahito because the message is that Mahito represents a different side of him and he shouldn't ignore or destroy that side, he has to embrace it to be able to stomach what lies ahead.
Maki & Mai
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If done right, I'm always a sucker for twin relationships, especially the codependency in it. I wouldn't say Maki & Mai are my favourite example of them or the best written one, but I still like them for what they are, particularly everything in Perfect Preparation and the Sakurajima colony. It could've been better and more consistently set up, but the payoff is still emotional and impactful and that's what I like them for.
Both of them need each other, wanted to help each other in their own way, but they never saw eye-to-eye or managed to communicate properly until after Mai's death. They were holding each other back through more than just the jujutsu consequences of being born a twin. Mai wanted Maki to give up and live with her at the bottom and Maki thought she had to shoulder all responsibility and could only go on and pave a way for them alone. Even after the have "become one" in a jujutsu sense and Maki unlocked her Heavenly Restriction, they don't immediately work together and have to learn how to communicate with each other and lift each other up, make up for what the other can't do. And through understanding Mai better and learning to hold her and fight together with her, she also begins to understand herself better.
I wish we got a more in-depth look at them, their past and relationship while both were alive before the Perfect Preparation arc. I hope Maki's arc will have a satisfying end and she will find something meaningful to do with her life.
Hakari & Uraume
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Every time the leaks come out, I'm hoping for at least a glimpse at these two. There's been setup for some really interesting exploration of the themes of humanity and strength here. They are also just such a funny duo and it gets more and more hilarious the more chapters pass by and we don't see them. While Sukuna plays whac-a-mole with the main group, Hakari and Uraume have been "fighting" for 20 chapters now without seemingly getting anywhere except gossiping about what happens over at the main source of action. Wouldn't be surprised if we skip back to them to see them eating ice cream while watching the others get beaten up.
On a more serious note, I really hope the little speech Uraume gave in ch 245 gets picked up again and explored upon because it was the most interesting commentary we got so far on the source of sorcerers power, what it means to be human when you are so strong and also Uraume's background. Uraume's view of humanity and strength seems to slightly differ from Sukuna's and they also seem to reflect upon it more. They say forming relationships and fear of losing said relationships is what makes you weak and yet they have no problem following Sukuna and worrying about him. They are even open to forming bonds with others like Kenjaku or even Hakari. Hakari is actually the person we have seen them be most relaxed and friendly with so far. With Sukuna there is always a remaining formality and Kenjaku annoys them, but with Hakari they chat like a normal person. They make fun of him, but it's very colloquial. It seems like they actually came to see him as a true equal. There is no binding vow or old history binding them together, they simply want to keep Hakari from interfering with the fight and through that they got to engage with him without any pretence.
I just wish we actually got to see how their relationship developed over that now pretty significant amount of time and to see more of Uraume's worldview and maybe Hakari's too. He broke away from Jujutsu Tech and was left to build up his own independent existence together with Kirara. Very similar to Uraume and Sukuna. Now if we could only explore that connection between them more. On page. Not off-screen. I would've taken that any time over the pointless intervention from Geto's cult members or Kusakabe sacrificing himself.
Kusakabe & Yaga
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I think this is Kusakabe's most interesting relationship and what actually gives him some depth beyond Exposition Guy. It's also where we see Yaga's more overtly caring side beyond his interactions with Panda. Unfortunately, it gets overlooked a lot, in part because Gege doesn't linger much on it beyond one or two chapters and Kusakabe's last words before getting cut down. There is literally nothing about this ship in fandom spaces. Probably because for some reason people think Yaga isn't hot enough (he's the literal definition of a dilf what more do you want?)...
Chapter 147 is interesting because it shows us the closest relationships and most hidden secrets both Kusakabe and Yaga have. We learn that Yaga not only makes autonomous puppets, but he actually has a whole Hundred Acre Wood-type of retreat full of the souls of dead people, children in particular. They aren't weapons like Panda, they don't fight, they are just allowed to live there. Protected by Tengen interestingly enough. She probably just doesn't care what he does or thinks it mildly interesting/quirky. This is also where we find out that Kusakabe has a sister (Usami?), who has been severely traumatized to the point of being catatonic and lost her son, Kusakabe's nephew. Despite the taboo, both Kusakabe and Yaga are willing to raise the dead not only to help her, but also to give Kusakabe something of his family back. It's the most vulnerable moment we've gotten of him and it speaks of their deep bond that Yaga was willing to do this. Doubt he would do this for just any jujutsu teacher (who doesn't even work for him). Creating that kind of cursed corpse isn't easy after all. But nothing strengthens a bond like necromancy. Kusakabe's last words about Yaga in ch 254 are also interesting. He fights for Yaga, knowing he wouldn't force him to do this, but reflecting on how they used to be able to fight together. They must have known each other for a long time. Kusakabe tells himself multiple times to not linger on the dead, but any time he does, it's because of Yaga.
A very interesting relationship with much potential that goes underexplored. I would've much preferred for his relationship with Yaga to be highlighted more in his fight against Sukuna than that out of place "interview" where people who barely know Kusakabe explain his character to us. If they could bring Gojo and Nanami back from the dead, they could've shown Yaga too. If you really want me to believe that Kusakabe is a kind person, show me more of how he acts around the people he actually cares about, i.e. Yaga and Miwa. He's a very different person around them, particularly Yaga and that's when he allows himself to be vulnerable.
So yeah, I think they explored each other's bodies to help each other through their grief.
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zhoufeis · 9 hours
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What just bothers me simply about the discussion of TTPD being all so great is neither the fact that some reviewers literally ignore some of the very gruesome lyrics this album has to offer nor the fact that the whole album has the same tune and I could not tell apart these tracks even if I wanted to, no. After all, we can always argue that tastes are different... arguably. It's something utterly different that's bothering me.
It's three things entirely different.
1) The fact we pretend 31 break-up tracks, written entirely out of the perspective of victimhood, of some love stories are worth calling "The Tortured Poets Department". Mind you, Swift, I like love songs, I like break-up songs, I like them poetically, I like when they touch me. But writing 31 break-up songs (not entirely, right, more like 25 or so) for one album makes me wonder if there is anything deeper... more touching to write about. You stay on the surface describing relationships (romantic as well as parasocial) in which you come out as a victim. But the self-reflection is missing entirely. And if I learned one thing in language classes it's that it's poetically dull if we only ever stay on the surface. We gotta dig deeper. And I'm not referring to some poetic lines to make a song sound more beautiful. I'm talking about true depth, true self-reflection, something that makes you defenseless. Cause all this woman does is writing songs out of the perspective of defense - and victimhood. Never does she actually draw herself as defenseless or vulnerable, always knowing how to use the right words to make her fans defend her.
2) Which leads me to that other thing that really bothers me. Her PR team was more involved in this album than the persona of Taylor Swift could ever be. Or maybe Taylor Swift is only PR at this point. Maybe there is no actual person behind all of this. Cause if there's one thing that's utterly apparent, it is that this album hinges SOLELY on any media drama she was involved in. Everyone out there trying to decipher which song is about whom - is this storytelling? Is this poetry? If I only care about songs and judge them by who they are about? The beauty of music is that it binds people together, makes people feel heard or seen through the text and voice of another person. What she's doing isn't that. She is not binding people together by selling her songs as something that could happen to anyone, no, all of it is always only about one person's story - her own. She also doesn't create fictional stories to write about, things to further the limits of our imagination and tell a story that doesn't even exist, and never will. She doesn't use imagination, she doesn't try to connect to other people, she's trying only to connect people to HER. Can this album even be judged neutrally if everyone just knows about her relationships and is guessing who the songs are about? Is there one person out there like "I have never seen any of the TS relationship drama and the like, and I only like to review this album lyrically and sonically by the lyrics and tune within"? Because she is SO present in everyday media press, it is impossible to miss her relationship drama. So are we actually still reviewing Swift's album as a standalone media for its sound and lyrics? Or are we actually just reviewing TS's terrible love life which she apparently has no responsibility for? And mind you all - she knows exactly what she's doing. Don't even think for a second she doesn't know that you all are following her every footstep. Don't think she doesn't use it to her advantage. (Aside from that, she has been considered a storyteller for so long, but she seems to have a lack of stories she can come up with if the only ones she writes about are her own...)
3) Which leads to the entire capitalist thinking behind the release of this album. Not only did she publish 19 different versions of this album to be acquired, no, she also literally had millions of fans pre-ordering her (normal-length) album, only to drop an extended version right after its release. Which means that all these fans had to buy yet another album. And don't think she meant this as a surprise for her fans - she did that cause that's how you make money. Cause that's how capitalism works. And she's part of the problem.
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The reason I think Alastor should be in the wrong(or at least mostly in the wrong) in his and Vox's falling out is that I don't think their relationship would be worth exploring as deeply as it sounds like it will be next season if Vox was the primary reason they started fighting, because it would do NOTHING for Alastor's arc.
Like- okay, Alastor's arc is very clearly going to be about learning that trusting people is Okay and not a sign of weakness, right? He's literally the only character in the show that is very clearly about the power of friendship who refuses to accept any sort of help, like even the VILLAINS are constantly hyping eachother up! If they fell apart because of something Vox did, and their relationship is going to be super important next season, wouldn't that not really do anything for Alastor's arc? Unless Vox pulling some weird shit is the ROOT CAUSE of Alastor's trust issues, but, given what we know about his past and how his ego seems to be the biggest contributor to said issues, I don't think it is. Alastor would HAVE to have contributed SIGNIFICANTLY to their falling out if their relationship is going to mean anything to his arc, because otherwise it just feels more like a weird aside then anything else? Like "oh yeah we used to be friends but then he did some weird shit and now we're not friends anymore". It adds nothing. There's nothing emotional for Alastor to confront in this scenario.
Which makes for a more interesting story, the relationship between the mc and someone from their past who, while they miss, isn't the kind of person they want to be around anymore so they don't really feel bad about cutting them off who ALSO doesn't pose any real Active Threat to the mc, or the mcs relationship with someone who they respected a lot but cut off because they felt the two of them were getting too close and we can't have THAT, now can we? It's the second one. It's the second one because the second one HAS HIGHER STAKES! The first one makes for a good one episode plotline, but for a season long arc? Takes where Vox is in the wrong actually make VOX a more interesting character to follow then Alastor, because that makes HIM the only one with an actual emotional stake in the conflict. But this isn't Vox's story. It's Alastor's story. Alastor is the main character. Which means, for their relationship to provide anything of value to the plot, Alastor needs to have emotional stakes in the situation too. The best villains are the ones that force your characters to grow and become better people(unless you're doing a silly little monster of the week type of show but THAT'S NOT WHAT HAZBIN IS-), and the only way Vox being the main antagonist next season is gonna cause any kind of growth is if Alastor is being forced to reconcile with his past.
Anyways uh, yeah that's it. I could do a tangent about how their relationship lowkey parallels Fizz & Blitzø(a comparison I made in this post but didn't actually go into depth on bcuz it wasn't relevant to the post beyond supporting my argument + didn't have much backing at the time), but I do NOT have the brain power to go in-depth comparing and contrasting that stuff rn, bcuz, despite the similarities, whatever the fuck Vox & Al have going on seems to be a LOT more Complicated and Sad then an accident and some dad-induced miscommunication. So I'm just gonna leave it at that :)
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princesssarisa · 2 days
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I decided to make this poll because I've been listening to the excellent Little Women videos from @littlewomenpodcast, whose opinions and arguments I nearly always find to be spot-on. (And who so generously quotes some of my analysis now and then.) But I'll admit I was taken aback by one remark she and others have occasionally made about Jo and Amy. Namely that as a teenager, Jo bullies Amy, and that Amy burning Jo's manuscript is just the moment when she finally snaps after having been picked on by her sister all her life.
After hearing this, I had to go back and reread all of Jo and Amy's interactions in Part I, because I had never thought of their conflict that way, and I'm still not sure if I do.
I always saw their sibling rivalry as mutual, with both at fault. They're both strong-willed, attention-seeking, quick-tempered girls, they arguably both have different forms of internalized misogyny (Jo by disdaining femininity, Amy by disdaining tomboyishness), and they get on each other's nerves. Jo mocks Amy's childish attempts to be ladylike (and even an only child like myself knows that between siblings, teasing is normal and doesn't equal bullying), while Amy annoys Jo by correcting her manners, and neither is generally better or worse than the other.
Now of course this is their relationship in general: I'm not talking about "Jo Meets Apollyon." In that specific case, Jo does provoke Amy by refusing to take her to the play just because she, Jo, doesn't want to babysit, leaving Amy in tears. And while Amy burning her manuscript is an inexcusable, out-of-proportion response, it's even more wrong of Jo to physically attack Amy when she learns what she did, and almost horrific that she doesn't warn her about the thin ice the next day. But even then, Alcott doesn't describe Jo as always insulting and excluding Amy, and she makes it clear that Amy has played other pranks on Jo before the manuscript-burning. She writes that they've always been prone to "lively skirmishes" because of their mutual tempers – she doesn't blame Jo alone.
Still, maybe it can't be mutual, because Jo is a teenager while Amy is a child. The fact that I have no siblings puts me at a disadvantage, because not only do I not personally know the difference between normal sibling rivalry and bullying, I don't know how much of a difference certain age gaps create. Maybe the fact that Jo is three years older than Amy makes her more of a bully than if they were only a year apart in age. (Still, three years isn't that big of a gap. I don't remember feeling much more mature at fifteen than I was at twelve, just more hormonal.) Also, Alcott does write that Jo had less self-control than Amy despite being older, and in their typical scenes of light bickering, when Jo laughs at Amy's malapropisms and Amy corrects Jo's manners, Jo does always laugh at Amy first, and then Amy scolds her in response. There's also the moment in "Experiments" when Jo hears Beth crying and thinks to herself that if Amy was the one who upset her (she wasn't – Beth's bird died), she'll shake her. We could argue that this just shows how protective Jo is of Beth, but at the same time, she's thinking about physically attacking her little sister again.
In the end, I'm tempted to think this issue is open to interpretation. We can either view the two sisters as having a mutual rivalry and mutually provoking each other (apart from isolated incidents when either one or the other is more to blame), or view Jo as more of a bully and Amy as more of the victim.
I'd like to see what other people think, though.
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riri-twix · 2 days
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Can We Become We?
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Chapter 2: Just an Arrangement
Summary: Satoru, Suguru, and you are forced into a marriage by your families for economic reasons. Satoru who doesn’t know what it’s like to love or be loved. Suguru who believes he is undeserving of anyone’s love. And you who didn’t want to love in the first place.
The three of you agree to stay out of each other’s business, and save the relationship acts only for the elders who imposed this on you. But what happens when feelings for each other start to develop?
She/her pronouns for reader | use of y/n | no smut in in this chapter
You can also read it on ao3 here
Satoru was leaning back onto the couch, a foot over his knee, and an arm slung around the back. He looked relaxed on the outside, but on the inside, there was a knot in his stomach, only growing tighter by the second.
His expression is blank, turning his head left, then right, then left again, as he follows his father. The man has been pacing back and forth in the living room with quick, determined steps for the past five minutes. It was almost like being caught up in a tennis match, Satoru thought.
“Twenty minutes!” His father grits out, his voice rising in pitch as he struggles to keep his anger under control. “They said they’d arrive in twenty minutes!”
And it’s only been twenty-one. Satoru rolls his eyes and sinks further into the couch. His dad was always on a rush in every situation, always trying to control everything and everyone in his life.
This is just a dinner, for crying out loud. Satoru throws his head back on the couch and closed his eyes, trying to ignore his father's bitching about everything. He needs learn how to relax.
“You should stop stressing, baby.” Came the voice of his mother. He was almost certain that she didn’t even look up from her phone as she said that. “It’s not a good look on you.”
“Oh?” There was a smirk to his father’s tone. “Then what is?”
“Hmm?” Okay, now his mother definitely put down her phone. “I have a few ideas. Maybe… I can try them out…”
Eww. If Satoru could roll his eyes while they were closed, he would’ve done it a million times. Instead, he takes a deep breath and lets it out in a loud gag, taking the liberty to even stick his tongue out for better efficiency. An opportunity to piss off his parents? He’ll take it.
“Satoru.” He could almost feel the glare his father sent his way.
“Yes?” A smirk plays on his lips, satisfied that he was able to get on his father’s nerves. “You know, you could just get a room. Then you won’t have to worry about me bothering you.”
Before his father could throw a shoe or the closest object at Satoru’s head, a number of footsteps walks into the room.
“Sir.” Satoru’s eyes peel open when he hears the smooth, even voice of their butler addressing his father. “The Geto family is here.”
Satoru feels his body freeze, a wave of uneasiness washes over him, churning over and over in his stomach as the retreating footsteps of the butler fade away. The steady beating of his heart grows louder in his ears.
The whole point of this gathering was for him and his… fiancés? To meet before tomorrow’s public wedding. He knew that. So why was he feeling so nervous? He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but the more he tries to focus on his breathing, the more he feels the tension rising inside of him.
“You must be Suguru.” The words come out of his father's mouth like clockwork, a well-rehearsed tone that Satoru has heard so many times before. Used for formalities, always accompanied with a jarring, toothy smile. Fake as shit.
“The pleasure is mine, sir.”
Satoru can’t, and for the most part, doesn’t, stop himself from lifting his head the moment that soft voice fills his ears. His eyes automatically land on Suguru, who had his head bowed politely at his father, before straightening up again, a friendly smile on his face.
His face immediately contorts in distaste. Because what the hell’s up with those bangs? And also because he doesn’t know what else to do. He exhales a scoff through his nose and throws his head back again, silently hoping that no one noticed the way his face grew hot.
He didn’t want to look at him anyway. And he definitely did not, in any way, want to look at the way Suguru’s shoulders and chest complimented him so perfectly in that light button up, tucked in neatly under those deep blue pants-
ThE pLeASurE iS mine, SiR. He mocks in his head, interrupting those unwarranted thoughts. Pathetic. He was probably just like every other person who meets his father. None of them give a shit about how stingy or ruthless he is, just interested in the money and power that came from being connected to him.
Suguru didn’t know what to expect when he walked through the automatic sliding gate of the big, no, ginormous Gojo estate. He’s only ever seen places like these from the outside. The air inside was heavy with the smell of leather and rich mahogany, a far cry from the familiar scent of his own home.
It didn’t fit with him. He didn’t belong here.
He hadn't spoken a word to his parents since they told him the news, stuck in a state of shock and disbelief. His appetite had faded so much that he could hardly bring himself to eat. He spent the last two nights tossing and turning, his mind plagued by his own thoughts of what was going to happen.
Still, he thought, none of that was a good enough reason not to make himself look presentable. If there was one thing that Suguru couldn’t do, it was being rude enough to show up as a guest without attempting to look decent.
And now, Suguru's heart raced as he stood before Satoru's father, feeling as if the older man was staring directly into his soul. He tried to keep his emotions in check, leaving the smile on his face as he fought the urge to flee.
His eyes flicker briefly over the older man’s shoulder, falling onto the exposed throat of the man he was to marry, his head flopped back over the couch.
His gaze quickly returns back onto Satoru’s father when he realises that its rude not to focus his attention. He takes a deep breath, hoping that he doesn't seem too nervous as he clears his throat and tries to steady his voice.
“I apologise for being late.” He offers, stepping to the side to introduce his parents. “This is my father, and my mother.”
His parents step up, both giving a small, polite bow, introducing themselves as they did. 
But Suguru can’t focus on the words, his curiosity distracting him from the conversation taking place in front of him. He leans slightly to the side, trying to get another peek at Satoru. He wonders what’s going on through his mind, but the sight of his expressionless face makes it hard to tell. But one thing was clear. Satoru wasn’t happy.
Suguru opted to furrow his eyebrows instead of rolling his eyes. Because of course the prodigal son wouldn’t be happy about marrying some no body whose family owns nothing but a farm. Suguru almost scoffed out loud. Used to own nothing but a farm. Now they had nothing.
Suguru was nothing. And compared to Satoru, he might as well cease to exist. No doubt, Satoru hated his guts, all because his parents were petty enough to sell him off.
If he were Satoru, he would’ve hated himself too.
“Please, don’t wait for an invitation.” Suguru looks back to Satoru’s father, who now had an arm wrapped around his wife’s waist beside him. When did she get there? The older man gestures towards the cream-coloured velvet couch. “Please take a seat.”
His parents don’t need to be told twice, quickly scampering towards the seat with small ‘thank you’.
“Satoru, you’re an adult, for Christ’s sake. Sit properly in front of our guests.”
Suguru watches in silence as Satoru's father scolds him, before his feet finally start moving. He makes his way to the opposite end of the couch Satoru was on. The white-haired man sighed, long and loud, before straightening his posture. He doesn’t even glance once in Suguru’s direction.
Suguru suddenly feels insulted. Sure, he gets it in a way, that this wasn’t Satoru’s choice and all, but he didn’t get much of a choice either. Did he think himself all high and mighty that much? And why the hell was he wearing sunglasses indoors?
Suguru swallows his pride. Breath in. Smile.
He doesn’t know why he was taking Satoru’s bullshit personally. It’s not like they were in this whole thing for love. The least he could do is tolerate. Maybe, he thinks, hopefully, he silently prays, you’re not going to be an asshole as much as Satoru. Then at least it will be easier for him.
“This way, please.” The voice of the butler who had just recently escorted him and his family, catches Suguru’s attention.
“Ah finally.” Satoru’s father sighs, clapping once and rubbing his palms together. “Our bride is here.”
You and your parents were the last to arrive at the Gojo estate. You didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to meet your ‘soon-to-be husbands’ or their parents. It doesn’t matter what your parents say, or how childish it is, you’re going to frown through this entire gathering.
Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. Because your jaw dropped open in awe the moment you were let in through the gates.
The house, if you could even call it that, was big, huge in fact. So large that you imagine you could fit your entire home five times over, and still have room to spare. It wasn’t surprising, considering that the Gojo family was well known for their wealth.
By the double front doors, you were greeted by an old, but not that old looking man. Your eyes trail from his face down to his clothes, taking in the formal black suit and small bow, and you realise he must be the butler – they even had a butler.
He guides you in, leading you down the hall into a large room that looked a bit too formal to be called a living room, where you find yourself standing before a six-person audience. All heads turned to you.
After a quick scan of everyone’s faces, your eyes fall onto Satoru. He looks at you with hard, judging eyes, his expression impenetrable behind the sunglasses that cover them.
You can't help but notice the uncanny resemblance to his father - the imposing figure seated on the opposite couch - with his white hair and angular jawline. His full lips and sharp nose, on the other hand, seem to be a hallmark of his mother's features.
Your gaze then shifts to Suguru, who looks at you with a curious gaze. His striking beauty is almost otherworldly, with peaceful, cat-like eyes and a delicate jawline. A gentle masculinity softened so slightly by feminine features.
He's the type of gorgeous that you can't look away from, and you feel yourself drawn to him, almost instinctively.
Both of them, Satoru and Suguru weren’t the creepy old men you were dreading they’d be - thank God. And although they seemed like complete opposites, were equally handsome.
And just like that, the frown that has long since left your face, decides to make a re-entrance. Because what the hell? You were against this whole thing. You were forced into it, expected to go along with it like it's some kind of game. You can’t be thinking like that about the men who didn’t even choose you.
“Well? What are you waiting for, dear?” Satoru’s mother smiles too tightly, her tone way too sweet. “Come and have a seat. Make yourself at home.”
No introduction where needed, because apparently your parents had already met the Gojo’s before during business. Like this is any different.
While there was plenty of free space, it almost seemed like she was being overly obvious for you to take the seat between Satoru and Suguru. So you do. But you make sure to leave a comfortable distance on either side. You suppress the urge to run your fingers over the velvet.
“Aren’t you all just so cute?” Satoru’s mother coos, pulling out her phone. A flash of white momentarily blinds you. “This is going to be perfect for my page.” She beams at her screen.
“Why don’t we all head over to the dining room?” Satoru’s father suddenly suggests. “Let’s give the kids some alone time to get to know each other.”
Your parents all voice their agreements, following Satoru’s mother as she leads them out of the main hall. But Satoru’s father stays behind. Something feels off. He doesn’t say anything. The silence stretches on for what feels like an eternity, and you start to wonder if he is ever going to speak.
Satoru wanted nothing more than to throw his head into his hands. He knew that this was just the way his father was before starting one of his ‘I am too important for this world’ speeches.
“Listen closely.” Satoru’s father starts, his tone low and calm, yet there’s a hint of warning in it. It reminds you of how Vito Corleone talks in the Godfather, just without the Italian accent. “My family’s reputation,” Satoru lets out a groan at that, rolling his eyes dramatically as his father continued to talk. “And my reputation. They are very important to me.”
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel a little bit intimidated.
“I’m pretty sure they know that, dad.” Satoru grits out, huffing and turning his cheek to the side. “Who doesn’t?”
“Precisely.” His father arches one of his snow-white eyebrows. “Tomorrow is your wedding-”
“Pretty sure they know that too-” Satoru cuts in, earning himself a pointed glare, but he doesn’t give two shits. It kind of makes you feel a bit better, the way Satoru was being so nonchalant.
“And many important people will attend, including the Gojo family elders.” His father goes on. “You three, and I mean you two in particular,” He uses two fingers to points at you and Satoru, “would do well to know what you’re dealing with now. Fix those attitudes.”
A pang of irritation spikes up. Is he the one to talk about attitudes? Because you could list down a number of things he needs to fix. The first one being to find himself a therapist.
“I don’t want the elders talking badly about us. They are in charge of all our affairs and if they sense any problems, it won’t be good.” Satoru’s father huffs, throwing his hands in the air. “You look like you’re going to be attending a funeral rather than your own wedding!”
And just like that, Satoru snaps.
“Why do they care?!” His voice was loud and filled with venom. “Why the fuck, do they give so much shits about our lives?!”
“Because our family name is one of the most influential throughout all of Japan!” His father spits right back. “And I will NOT have you taint it!”
Your muscles were tense the entire time, heart caught up in your throat at the rising tension. Satoru doesn’t respond, and his father suddenly turns around, taking a deep breath as if to compose himself.
“I don’t care how much you hate it.” He says, calmly. It was as if the yelling that happened seconds ago never existed. He flashes a smile over his shoulder, that almost made you believe it was real. “Act like you want this. You understand?”
And with that, he leaves.
Your eyes dart over to Satoru. His hands were clenched so tight that his knuckles turned white. He was gritting his teeth, the gaze of his sunglasses planted firmly on a spot on the floor. You instantly felt a pang of sympathy at the unfair treatment he got. Did this happen to him all the time?
A part of you wanted to reach out and comfort him. But you also know that getting involved might only make the situation worse.
Satoru finally speaks, his voice sneering. "Listen, I'm telling you from now.” He says, “I don't care why you're here or what you want from my father and this family, but this” He gestures sharply towards the three of you. "Will never be anything more than an act. You won't stick your noses into my life, and I won't stick mine into yours. I don't care what you do, just leave me out of it."
Despite the harsh tone in those words, you felt a wave of relief wash over you for some reason. That didn’t sound all that bad. It hits you that maybe, just maybe you could do that. You can go through the motions without having to actually share any part of your life with them. Shoko and the girls might not need to crash the wedding after all…
“I don’t have any disagreements.” Suguru voiced out, lifting the remaining weight off your chest. No one was opposed to this.
“Me either.”
The person staring back at you in the mirror was… beautiful. You didn’t know you could even look like this.
The light grey wedding dress had a beautiful flowing skirt, draping down to the floor and swirling around your legs as you move. The delicate fabric is a perfect silhouette that falls on you, hugging your body at the waist where a white, silk obi belt is tied in a lovely bow. Several silver outlines of betta fish were adorned the belt, each one catching the light in just the right way.
“You look gorgeous, sweetie.” Came the hushed whisper of the maid doing the finishing touches.
I know, you wanted to say. But the words catch in your throat. It would probably sound rude, even though you could see yourself as clear as day. “Thank you.” You replied instead.
A light knock came from the door. And with it, the beating of your heart only grew louder.
It was time.
A young lady guided you down a wide hallway, fixing and adjusting the back of your dress as you walked, until you reached the opening of a large, opulent lobby, where your father was waiting for you.
He linked arms with you, smiling warmly at you. There was a look of affection filled in his gaze. “I remember the way I used to carry you on my shoulders like it was yesterday.” He whispered, stroking your cheek. “I can’t even carry you anymore.” Words that did nothing to suppress the loathing for him that started days ago.
You don’t say anything, just nodding and turning your head slightly to the side. You didn’t want to start crying, and you didn’t want to forgive him for this either. And with that, he walks you through the double doors.
The buzzing chatter that had filled every corner in the room, suddenly went silent, and all heads turned to you. The whole lobby was filled with large, round tables, every single chair occupied. You silently questioned if the Gojo family had invited the entire population of Japan here.
Your eyes finally settle directly ahead, and there, standing at the end of the aisle, you see them. Satoru and Suguru.
Satoru was wearing a pure, white kimono underneath a white haori jacket. His hakama pants were a baby blue. As for Suguru, he was dressing in the exact same outfit, except it was darker. His kimono and haori jacket were both black, while his pants were a dark grey.
As if their hair wasn’t already enough of a difference.
You’ve been to a couple of weddings before, you’ve seen the way the groom would look at the bride with a love only told from fairytales, or the way the bride can’t stop the smile from forming on her face. Both of them showing nothing but pure happiness.
Chin up. Smile. You felt the corners of your mouth lifting upwards, grinning as best as you could.
But, even with the way Satoru’s face was lit up with a grin that made his face look even more boyish than before, and even with Suguru’s eyes closed into upside down crescents. Anyone could believe it was real, but you knew. There wasn’t a single trace of real happiness on their faces.
You heart started to beat heavily in your ears. Focus on getting one foot in front of the other. Each time you took a step, it was in sync with the pounding in your chest.
Step.
Step.
Step.
All eyes were on you, wide and unblinking, you could see their mouths moving, sharing whispers. But you couldn’t hear anything. Only the inhale and exhale through your teeth, your eyes set on both the white fluffy hair, flowing freely, and the dark strands that were tied into a perfect bun.
You swallow thickly as a wave of nausea washes over you. Your stomach churned over itself, then over again like a tidal wave washing onto the beach. Sick. You were going to be sick.
You don’t even remember when your father had left your side, waving you in the middle of the two men. You keep your head straight ahead at the priest, unwilling to look at neither Satoru nor Suguru.
Something catches your eye. A small detail you couldn’t have noticed from afar. Satoru’s haori. It was embroidered with light blue outlines of betta fish. And Suguru’s too. All over it, outlined in a magnificent purple. Just like his eyes.
You wonder who chose this specific fish-
“Y/n?” The priest snapped you out of your thoughts.
You blink. Was it your turn already?
“Opps, sorry.” You let out a nervous chuckle, and straightened yourself. “With this ring and binding, I promise to be there for you both, day or night, in richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.” You recited your practiced vow with a beaming smile, looking up at Suguru, then to Satoru.
You watch as Satoru reaches for the ring, a small smirk on his face as he takes your hand and slides the band onto your finger in a smooth and effortless motion. You felt a tingle at his touch, but you pushed it away as he released you.
Suguru follows, grabbing the ring and sliding it onto Satoru's finger, his smile bright and warm as he turns to you with a sense of excitement. He almost makes you feel like this whole exchange was natural.
You were next. You breathe in, your hand trembling ever so slightly as you reach out for the ring. Taking Suguru’s hand, you place the golden band on his finger, marking the official completion of the ceremony.
The audience bursts into a round of cheers and applause, filling your ears like distant echoes.
That’s it. It was done. You were now tied to them, and they to you.
chapter1, chapter2, chapter3, chapter4 (coming soon)
taglist: @keira80808
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More than Friends [Park sunghoon x Female Reader]
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Word Count: 5,482.
Warnings: None
Themes: Fluff, Childhood best friends to lover
Now Playing:I Fell In Love With My Best Friend
Sunghoon has always been the quiet type. Maybe not that type where he's too shy to approach someone, rather, he's that type who is happy with the friends he found at the playground 12 years ago and not looking for anyone new. With the exception of two, all his friends have been with him since kindergarten. Though there's a visible age gap in the friend group, they somehow managed to become the most popular of high school students with their charm. Sunghoon is content with his friends and enjoys their company. The only annoying things in his life are the crazy fangirls (he never thought high school guys could have those) and mint chocolate chip ice cream.
Since he had seen the crazy fangirls drooling all over him, any interest in dating or pursuing someone vanished in an instant. Not like he had any before-but the thought had been there. Now even the thought makes him nervous. Dating someone who keeps his hair in her locker? Nah, he'd pass.
Truth be told, he's more interested in enjoying his high school life with his friends rather than spending it with some girl who would get jealous if he even looks at another girl. And he's speaking from experience. That was his first and last relationship, which only lasted for two weeks. And it hadn't ended there like he expected or wished. The girl had some crazy antics up her sleeves, which he only realized later when he found a tweet of hers about how he had used her and dumped her. Though all her tries failed, since it was known around school that Sunghoon is a sweetheart to everyone. He wouldn't do something horrible to a girl. Plus, everyone knew how much of a crazy fangirl Tessa was for Sunghoon, so nobody bothered to believe her.
Currently, he is trying to get through a series of math and physics homework their teacher assigned for them over the weekend.  He is over at his best friend Jake's house, eating ice cream and expressing his frustration through chewing the spoon. He heaves a sigh and groans," Jake, please let me copy your homework. I'll pay for the movie tickets next time, I promise." 
Jake looked up at him with a mouthful of ice cream and mumbled something. Sunghoon just rolled his eyes in annoyance. "And how many times have I told you to not talk with food in your mouth?'
Jake gulps down the ice cream and looks at his best friend with a sheepish smile." Sorry, old habits-And how many times have I told you that, no, I won't let you copy off me! You should do your own work and be independent. I'll not always be there to be your cheat sheet. And also, you never pay for the movie tickets. You always promise and forget your wallet at home. I end up paying for us."
Sunghoon sighed, knowing it was useless trying to argue with the boy. Usually, Jake lectures him and after Sunghoon pouts or teases him, he gives up. But when it comes to math and physics, he never lets him copy off and starts to teach and make him understand. Sunghoon is happy with that, since Jake can teach way better than their old Ms.Crane ever could, but he is not in the mood for learning today. Like, who wants to learn for an hour on a weekend? Unbelievable. So when Jake offered to teach him, he straight up turned down offer because even though he teaches well, he would drag the lesson just to talk more about physics. Sunghoon wouldn't like this amazing noon to go to waste with long physics lessons. So he just stuffed his mouth with ice cream and hoping he would arrive at school tomorrow in time to copy off Jay or Heeseung.
As he looked back at his book and tried to make sense of what a scientist from two centuries before said, the door creaked open and Jake's older sister, (Name), walked in.
Jake's sister was older than them by two years, if we are only counting these two. She is in her senior year at high school, only a few months away from graduation. She is undoubtedly the most popular person in their whole school, being both pretty and intelligent. The perfect student, a prefect, an athlete and every teacher's favourite (Though Jake teases her by calling her a 'Teachers' Pet'). Oh, did he mention the school heartthrob? Every freaking guy in the school, except Sunghoon and his friends, had a crush on her. Sunghoon had practically grown up with her, being Jake's best friend and all. She is almost like an older sister to all of Jake's friends. She is known as their Friend Group's Special Guest. She pops up time to time. At this point, she might as well as be considered as a part of their group.
(Name) sat down beside them and, much to Jake's dismay, attacked their huge bowl of ice cream. As she picked up a spoonful of ice cream, she asked,"Too much homework?"
Jake put his hands behind his head in frustration and nodded."Too much homework."
Sunghoon saw a perfect opportunity to annoy Jake and grinned. He whined,"Noona, Jake isn't letting me copy off him."
(Name) chuckled while Jake rolled his eyes and shot him an annoyed look. She playfully shook her head and said,"Jake, why aren't you letting Sunghoon copy off you? It's not like he always does this. One time won't hurt."
Jake scowled."Noona, you don't know, this guy copies off me whenever he comes over, and by that I mean every weekend. He doesn't want to "waste" his precious weekend solving math. And it's not like I never let him copy off me. I just don't let him copy math and physics. And I offered to teach him, but he said that I take too much time to teach someone, and he would rather do anything else than spend his weekend noon listening to me ramble about math and physics." Jake shot Sunghoon a scornful look.
(Name) burst out laughing and threw her head back. She looked at Sunghoon and raise an eyebrow. She teased him with an amused tone,"Is that so, Sunghoon?'
Sunghoon blushed slightly and nodded. He sassily replied,"Well, who wants tpo waster their weekend listening to an hour long math and physics lecture?"
(Name) chuckled and nodded."Hmmm, you do have a point there, Sunghoon. But I have an idea. How about  instead of Jake lecturing you for an hour, I help you with your homework?'
Sunghoon clapped in excitement and nodded, while Jake protested,"Wait, why him? Your my sister, you're supposed to help me with my homework, not his."
(Name) rolled her eyes and said,"Because I know you already can do your homework, you nerd. Plus, I came here to tell you that Mum told you to get groceries."
Jake's mouth widened."Why me? It's your turn!"
(Name) smirked."Oh, I told her that I have an assignment due and I'll do with you guys, so Mum told me to tell you to get groceries, since you're not busy. And I'm pretty sure I can keep Sunghoon company. Right, Sunghoon?"
She tilted her head and winked at him while Jake was sulking, and a smirk formed on Sunghoon's face. This was their secret gesture, which meant it's time to tease and taunt Jake. It wasn't officially said between them; but whenever they teased Jake, she would tilt her head and wink at him. Sunghoon would also reply with a smirk of his own.
Sunghoon kept the smrik and said,"Oh, it's totally okay. I'm sure I'll survive an hour or so without you. Plus, you could also take a small walk outside in the beautiful sunlight."
Jake groaned in frustration and stood up. He glared at them and whined,"It's not fair!'
The two burst out laughing. As Jake gave them an annoyed look and was leaving the room, (Name) called out,"At least you won't have to worry about homework for a while!"
A curse word was heard as the boy slammed the door and left the room. They both burst into laughter again. (Name) clutched her stomach and almost fell over with her chair. Sunghoon threw his head back and banged on the table with his hand. They had, again, succeeded in teasing Jake and making him curse. Making him curse was always a big accomplishment, since the boy was mostly against cursing.
They somehow pulled themselves together and caught their breathes. (Name) looked up at Sunghoon with a smile and asked,"Another success?'
Sunghoon smiled back at her and nodded."Another success."
She sat up straight and looked at empty bowl of ice cream. A groan escaped her lips."That bastard ate the ice cream while we were busy annoying him. Guess he got his revenge some way." With that, she looked at him and gave a pouty look. She said,"Sunghoon, would you please get more ice cream from the fridge, please?'
Sungoon smiled and shook his head."Nope. Not happening. Jake also made me get the ice cream."
(Name) gave him one of her best puppy eyes and whined,"Please, Sunghoon. Won't you do a small favour for your dear noona?"
Sunghoon laughed at her antics and protested some more. But he gave up after a few minutes and went downstairs to get some more ice cream. As he came back, she pulled the bowl out of his hands and grabbed a spoonful of ice cream. Sunghoon sat back down next to her, she offered him his ice cream and he gladly accepted it.
(Name) sat up straight in her chair and said,"So you were having problems with your math and physics homework, right?'
Sunghoon nodded, and she flashed him a smile."How about I help you with your homework? I promise I won't lecture you for an hour like Jake. How does that sound?'
He smiled and replied,"Offer accepted."
(Name) smiled and he showed her the homework. As she started explaining to him, he couldn't help a smile growing on his face. She had always been like this, helping him with his homework. She explained way better than anyone he knew. Sometimes he wondered how a person could be this perfect. She was perfect from everyway; starting from looks to intelligence to personality. He always felt comfortable around her. She always put people at ease. Though she wasn't really an extrovert, she just had a natural way of talking to people. She never made anyone feel uncomfortable in her presence, and everyone loved her. She would always help the friend group out with homeworks and assignments; and as a Junior year student, Sunghoon really appreciated that.
As the sunlight fell on her face while she explained to him, he couldn't help noticing her beauty. She had a unique beauty. Her features might not have been the uncommon, but somehow her beauty seemed ethereal. Currently, it seemed as if the sunlight was showering her with affection; and it just enhanced her beauty even more. Sunghoon's heart fluttered, and his heartbeat fastened. His mind went into a frenzy as he recognized this feeling. The feeling of falling in love might sound like an exaggeration, but he knew it as what it was. The same feeling he felt in middle school towards that one girl who rejected him on the school rooftop.
Sunghoon wondered about their friendship. He had known her since the day four year old him fell down on the playground, and a four year old Jake and a six year old (Name) came rushing to help him up. From then, they'd been inseperable. It didn't matter that she was older than both of them, his bond with them was stronger than he had with any of his other friends. She was the reason he never got more than a week's detention for skipping class. She always covered for all of them. Even after becoming a prefect, she never reported them for skipping classes. Favoritism? Maybe. But she was all about supporting harmless fun. That's one of the many reasons everyone at school loved her.
She and Jake were the ones who took care of his grandma while she was sick. She was the reason he passed his middle school finals while he was seriously sick and in bed. She and all his friends stayed up all night, watching over him in turns. She was the eldest and in high school, so she helped them study for the finals at daytime. She was the one who ran out at 2 A.M, all alone, to get emergency medicines for him while his condition got worse. She had always been there for him, along with all his friends. They were his life. He didn't know what he'd do without them. They are a part of him.
(Name) tapped his shoulder, and Sunghoon snapped out of his trance. She had been calling him for some time now. He scratched the back of his head and flashed her an embarrassed smile, gesturing for her to continue.
As time went on with her helping him with his homework, he found himself getting butterflies time to time. He tried to fight the feeling, but he just couldn't. Eventually, they finished the homework and as they kickbacked on Jake's bed to watch a movie, Jake came back and joined them. Sunghoon felt bad, thinking what Jake would say if he found out his best friend had started developing a crush on his sister. Not something positive, Sunghoon thought. But as the afternoon and evening went on with them watching the movie, he just couldn't help feeling guilty as his feelings didn't seem to go away at all. Rather, they seemed to grow. When he left their house, he turned to them and gave those two a hug, like he had always done before. But hugging (Name) made him flustered, which never happened before. Thankfully, neither Jake nor (Name) noticed his behavior, or he would be even more embarrassed.
The next two weeks at school, he tried to avoid (Name) as much as possible. But that proved to be hard, as she was almost always hanging out with them at lunch and recess. He even stopped going over at Jake's for the weekend, giving the excuse that he had chores to do at home. Jake was visibly bummed out, but it didn't seem like he suspected that Sunghoon was lying. But all his efforts went in vain, as he couldn't avoid her much. He would have to see her everyday at lunch. He couldn't stop hanging out with his friends, or they would've suspected that something was up. Still, he tried to talk to (Name) as ew times as possible. But he just couldn't help noticing everything about her. How she smiled, how she threw her head back while laughing, how her lips automatically formed a small pout when she was surprised, how her lips parted when she was zoning out. Every small thing. His feelings for her only continued to grow.
And his behavior didn't go unnoticed by his friends too, even though he tried his best to act normal around them. They had known him enough to know that something was up. Every sing le one of them asked what was wrong. Jake and Jay looked really worried for him. Ni-Ki Heeseung even cornered him one day at class.
Heeseung walked up to his desk and leaned against it. He crossed his arms as he looked at the younger. He asked,"What's wrong, Sunghoon? You've been acting really weird these days. Everyone's worried about you. Jake even told me that you didn't go over at his last two weekends, which is really unusual for you."
Sunghoon felt guilty. Of course everyone would be worried for him. But that thought had flown over his head. As he realized that he was making everyone worried for him, he felt really mad at himself. He had been a dumbass by not realizing it before.
He didn't want to worry them even further, so he assured Heeseung that he was okay. But the boy didn't look convinced. He kept shaking his head and asking what was wrong. At last, Sunghoon gave up. He sighed. "I'll tell you, okay? But please don't tell the others. At least, not for now."
Heeseung leaned in closer as Sunghoon started explaining. He looked away and said,"I...How do I say this....Okay...The thing is, I have a crush on (Name)."
Heeseung's eyes widened. (Name) was their childhood friend. She had been a part of their friend group since always. Even though she couldn't always be with them, since she was two grades above them, it didn't matter. She always hung out with them at weekends. And when they finally came to high school, their friend group was complete again. But he never imagined Sunghoon having a crush on (Name). He was under the impression that they were like siblings, but it seems like his thought was wrong.
Sunghoon didn't give him a chance to speak and continued to speak."And I've been trying to avoid her, that's why I don't talk as much as I did before when we are with her; which is almost always. I didn't go over at theirs just to avoid her. I don't want to let my feelings for her grow. She probably sees me as a younger brother, and how could I have a crush on her? I just can't face her."
Heeseung sighed. He stayed quiet for a while, before he started speaking."Sunghoon, you do realize that's not gonna work, right? You'll have to tell her sooner or later."
Sunghoon nodded grimly, and Heeseung said,"You need to tell her. Bottling up your emotions isn't gonna work. Even if she sees you as a brother, she won't be mad. I know her. She's not the type to be mad over something like that."
Sunghoon sighed and said,"But I'm scared. Just because she won't be mad, what is the chance she won't be upset? And even if she wants to be my friend even after that, who's to say our relationship will stay the same after that? It might just break apart."
Heeseung nodded. He agreed,"Yes, that might happen. There's no guarantee for that. But you won't know if you don't confess. And who knows, she migt even agree to go on a date with you.
Sunghoon mumbled,"Might."
Heeseung nodded."Might. Yes. But that's better than nothing."
Sunghoon sighed and looked at the older."Sorry, Hyung, I just can't. I hope you don't mind."
Heeseung sighed and nodded."I don't mind. But don't avoid her or us anymore, okay?'
Sunghoon smiled and nodded."Okay,"he said.
Heeseung smiled and patted the boy on the head before going back to his own seat.
Sunghoon gave his words a thought that night and decided not to confess. But he wouldn't avoid her anymore. So he went to Jake's house the next weekend, as he couldn't use the same excuse over and over. As he sat down with him, discussing what they could do (Thankfully there wasn't any homework that day), (Name) entered the room.
Sunghoon tried to keep his expression normal as she chose to sit down right next to him on the bed. She was looking even more beautiful in her eyes, if that was even possible. He thought of saying something to look normal, but (Name) broke the silence first.
"Jake, you left all the dishes at the sink. Mum's not very pleased."
Jake jumped."Oh my gosh, I totally forgot to do the dishes! Is she angry?"
(Name) shook her head and replied,"Not angry, but not very happy either. I suggest you go down and do the dishes right now before her mood gets worse."
Jake nodded and ran out of the room. She chuckled at his reaction and looked at Sunghoon.
Sunghoon was watching this exchange between the two siblings in complete silence with a smile on his face. As he noticed (Name) looking at him, he flashed her a grin. He asked,"Movie night again today? I'll stay over the night."
(Name) nodded, but their was something off with her expression. Sunghoon felt a bit worried when he saw her. But she started talking before he could speak."Yup. Movie night. Horror movie night. I was also planning on taking you both to McDonalds."
Sunghoon grinned, but his grin faded as he saw her expression. He furrowed his brows and asked in a worried tone,"Are you okay?"
(Name) nodded, and he couldn't help feeling even more worried. This type of unenthusisastic reply wasn't usual for her. He asked again,"You sure? You don't seem like your usual self today."
She sighed and rolled over on her stomach. She put her wrists on the bed and propelled her face up with her hands. She looked up at him with a slightly pouty expression and asked him something that completely caught him off guard.
"Are you mad at me, Sunghoon?'
Sunghoon's eyes widened, and he quickly put his hands up in protest."No! Not at all! Why would I be mad at you?"
(Name) sighed again, and the pout on her face just got bigger. She said,"Then why have you been ignoring me for the past two weeks? You don't talk to me like you used to do. It's almost as if you don't want to see me anymore. Did I do something wrong?"
Sunghoon wanted slap himself. He had completely forgotten about how she would feel when he was trying his best to avoid her and not catch more feelings. And she was thinking that she did something wrong and he was mad at her. He felt so angry at himself and felt guilty for making her feel that way. He sighed."Noona, I'm not mad at you. I'm just feeling a little off these days. You know, school and stuff."
(Name) pouted even more."But you talk to everyone else like usual. You didn't even come over the past two weekends. Sunghoon, can you tell me what's wrong?"
He sighed and said,"Noona, I'm sorry, but it's complicated. I'm not mad at you or ignoring you. I'm just in a kind of complicated situation, that's it.'
(Name) looked at him with her brows furrowed."Tell me what's bothering you then. I want to hear about this complicated situation of yours. I might be able to help."
Sunghoon shook his head. He was sure she would be mad at him after hearing what his complicated situation was. It might even not only ruin their friendship, but also his and Jake's. And she probably thinks of him as a younger brother. How could he confess to her?
She saw him shake his head, and her frown deepened. She asked,"Sunghoon, since when do we keep secrets from each other? I thought we were friends. I thought we always shared everything. I know all your secrets, and you know all of mine. You even told me when you tried smoking for the first time and regretted it. Do you not trust me anymore?"
That sad look on her face broke Sunghoon. This was it. He couldn't hide it from her anymore. It might be the end of everything, but he had to tell her. He thought of Heeseung's words, and decided to shoot his shot. It's now or never. He sighed and said,"Okay, Noona, I'll tell you.' It felt weird to call her Noona, which was a first. Even though he was feeling nervous and his mind was screaming at him to not tell her or lie, he continued."You'll probably get mad at me, and I'll understand if you do. But just please listen to me."
(Name) listened to him carefully as a small smile grew on her face, replacing the pout. Sunghoon took a deep breath and said,"N-Noona, I-I like you. Not in a platonic or siblings way, I like you more than that. I want us to be more than just friends. I tried to fight the feeling, but it just wouldn't go away. So I avoided you. I avoided you in every way I can; so that my feelings won't grow. But it didn't help. My feelings continued to grow. You were just too perfect. I'm sorry, and I know this might even ruin my friendship with you and Jake, but I just can't help it. I'm sorry."
Sunghoon was surprised at how organized his words were, since he always had problems expressing his feelings through words. (Name) must've noticed this too, since she looked a bit suprised. He closed his eyes shut and prepared himself for the blow that was about to come.
But that never came. As he opened his eyes, he found her looking up at him with a wide smile. That helped him calm down. It always did. She suddenly laughed softly, and he felt a pink blush creeping up his cheeks. She playfully shook her head and said,"That was it? I was expecting you found out about my obsezsion with knives and got scared."
Sunghoon's eyes widened. He exclaimed,"Obsession with knives?!"
(Name) smiled, embarrassed."My only secret that I never told you, considering you weren't a big fan of knife handling."
Sunghoon shook his head in disbelief, and she chuckled. Her face was a bit red now, and it made her look really cute. He hadn't seen her blush too many times, but it aways made him smile.
(Name) started fidgeting with her fingers in a nervous manner and said with a smile,"And aboutr what you just said...I'm not mad at you. Not at all. It's not gonna ruin our friendship. I feel like it's kind of adorable how you have a crush on me. And...I might also feel the same."
Sunghoon's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He could feel his cheeks burning. He tried to say something, but it came out in stutters."Y-you a-also like m-me?"
(Name) nodded with a small blush. She laughed softly."I thought you saw me as an older sister, so I also didn't say anything. I was kinda internally beating myself up for feeling this way towards you."
Sunghoon also laughed."Really? I was also bashing myself internally."
She nodded with a smile."Mmmhm. Really."
Sunghoon couldn't help the smile on his face growing as he tried to speak, but she spoke before him. She flashed him a smile and said,"Ice cream date tomorrow evening?"
Sunghoon gave her a boyish grin and nodded."Ice cream date tomorrow evening."
(Name) smiled and leaned in close to him. As she saw his eyes widen and his face getting redder, but no signs of protest, she finally kissed him on the lips. Sunghoon kissed back, feeling really embarrassed and happy at the same time. She liked him back and they were going out!
As he wrapped his arms around her and she pulled him closer, the door burst open and a happy Jake entered."Guys, I've finished the dishes! Let's-"
He froze in his tracks as he saw the two of them."What the actual f-"
They had also frozen, but as soon as (Name) recovered from the initial shock, she threw a pillow at his way, not letting him finished his sentence. Sunghoon felt his cheeks grow even hotter, to the point they were burning. Jake yelled,"Ahh why would you throw the pillow at me?! And what are you guys doin-"
Another pillow hit his face, this time thrown by Sunghoon.
Sunghoon dived his face in (Name)'s neck in embarrassment from being caught by his best friend while kissing his older sister. She pulled him closer and yelled at her brother,"Can't you knock?"
Jake yelled back,"Why would I? Since when did we knocked while one of us wasn't alone in the room? And stop throwing these damn pillows at my face!"
They both burst out laughing and (Name) playfully rolled her eyes."I guess you have a point."
Jake pointed at Sunghoon and asked,"And what on earth are you guys doing?"
Sunghoon hid his face even more in her neck in embarrassment while she stroked his hair. She glared at her brother and said,"Don't you have eyes? And you're embarrassing Sunghoon. Look how red his face is."
Sunghoon whined in protest. Jake rolled his eyes and sat down next to them. He shook his head in disbelief."Since when this has been going on? How come I didn't know my best friend was in love with my sister?"
(Name) curled her lips and replied,"Since today, And it will go on."
Jake pulled Sunghoon from his hididng place and shook him with every word he said."Why. Didn't. You. Tell. Me. You. Bastard."
Sunghoon felt a little dizzy from all the shaking and pushed the boy away. He scratched his neck in embarrassment and said,"I thought you'd be mad...so...'
Jake shook his head in exasperation. He said," Mad? Oh boy, I'm mad at you. But not for falling for and kissing my sister. For not telling me you bastard! I am your best friend and you didn't tell me that you have a crush on my sister!"
They both burst out laughing as Jake stared at them in disbelief. He was still pretending to be mad, but as the corners of his mouth twitched, they saw a small smile was slowly forming on his face. He still said in a angry tone,"You'll pay for the movie tickets the whole year, Sunghoon. That's what you get for not telling me."
Sunghoon smiled and nodded. This was a way better price than he thought he would have to pay. He could deal with that. Plus, he was sure Jake would go back to paying after a month or two. So no worries.
Suddenly, another thought crossed Jake's mind. He grabbed a pillow and started hitting them with with it. He yelled,"And this is for throwing pillows at me!"
Sunghoon laughed as (Name) also grabbed a pillow and attacked her brother. As their fight went on, he also grabbed a pillow and joined them. All of them ended up with torn pillows after the fight, with cotton flying all over the room. Jake and (Name) looked at each other with wide eyes, and all three of them burst out laughing. As (Name) blew away a few cottons from Sunghoon's hair, he felt as if he had never been more happy and content. He knew from that moment, with his friends and possibly future girlfriend, he wouldn't have to worry about anything ever again.
And when they started dating from the next day, nobody was happier than Jake and Heeseung. Heeseung boosted around in the friend group that he already knew about Sunghoon's crush on (Name). Knowing that, Jake only got more pissed and demanded two whole years of movie ticket payment. Now Sunghoon knew that he would have to pay the for tickets at least for the next six months. He was seriously worried for himself now. It is the only problem he's currently dealing with now. And since Jake doesn't have to pay, he insists on taking Sunghoon and (Name) to watch a movie every weekend. Sunghoon had hoped that (Name) would tell her brother off, but she seemed to be enjoying the free movies every weekend. At least she insisted on paying for every date they went on, or he would've gone bankrupt by now. He can only hope now that he would still have enough money to buy his friends and girlfriend birthday and Christmas presents.
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tassodelmiele · 11 hours
Text
Noisy little mess
Hi sweetie ⁓
Here we are, it's finally monday and we can hope again in having a good, productive week (please let it be a sunny one too I can't hibernate in April I need my photosynthesis).
I'm wondering what do you think of this little work of mine, so if you feel like it you can write me whatever comment/question/any various and possible magical shit.
Have a good chocolaty day ⁓
DISCLAIMERS: little bit of touching and hints about sub/dom relationship! Finally my kinks are emerging! (evil laugh); Ghost-who-needs-to-make-peace-with-his-brain x Reader-who-needs-to-learn-how-to-shut-up; "How to be a psychologist without a degree" (by John Price); embarassing mission I hope does not exist in reality, but i needed it for plot's sake; little bit of wounds and scars (Doc.'s gonna tie you and Ghost up to a chair for the rest of your life); yelling and fighting and arguing (you're used to it by now).
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Fourth part here:
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«Why the hell you've let her-»
«MacTavish»
Price swallows through the smoked breath, clenching his fingers around the consumed cigar just to distract himself from the willingness to punch a wall, or the Sergeant's face.
«I've already had Ghost yelling at me for half an hour. Spare me»
«Then explain yourself, Cap.»
«I can't. I've no explanation. She'd done it by herself»
«She's no insubordinate»
«Not in that sense». He sighs. «I told her no. I knew it was too much for a rookie». He chews the extinguished cigar for a while, taking his time. «Laswell agreed. But that goddamn girl managed to convince Kate, somehow»
«How come?»
«Dunno. But she's already feeling bad enough, and she was the one who's got to rescue the girl»
«Laswell?? Ye serious?»
Price nods, eyes locked at the door in front of them. The doc entered almost one hour ago.
«And» Soap dares to ask «is Laswell…uhm…»
«She's ok» the Captain anticipates him. «Nothing broken. But the rookie…». He sighs again, scratching the bridge of his nose, pushing lightly his digits on the eyes. «I don't like soldiers wasting their lives like this. Especially good ones»
«The mission had to be done anyway»
«We could have waited for a better plan»  
He takes a last chew on the cigar, spitting it on his glove before squeezing the leftover crumbles in his fist. He throws everything in a trashcan, then gazes at Soap.
«We've got shit to do, Sergeant. We'll come to check her later»
«They've done something bad to her». That wasn't really a question, even if Soap hopes to be wrong. «Am i right?»
«What came up in that bloody lil' head of yours?»
Three gunshots in your arm (the right one, 'cause luck kicks you in the ass as always), one blade wound and various bruises, just to complete the masterpiece. Doc sent you out of the bed with a promise: to try to not touch the medications.
One in particular.
You didn't even want to eat, but you need to. So breakfast has started, with chocolate scent, closed stomach and two pairs of gaze on your red face. You've tried to avoid contact with every human being in the base, but someone's got a good sense of smell for you. And you eventually end up with Soap and Gaz surrounding you with their (legitimate) questions.
You're blushing like hell, stirring oatmeal crumble in the mug with your eyes drowning into it.
«…I've thought…i could be helpful»
«You're a brave kid, but that was-»
«Stupid» Soap ends the sentence. «To say the least». He finishes his coffee in a sip, swallowing the hot liquid in a rush. «It wasn't a rookie's work, ye should've known» 
You nod in embarrassment. «I did know»
«Then why?»
«'Cause…» you swallow, burying your eyes more into the mug, scratching the cuticles skin out of the nails. «…a girl was required. For the mission»
«Hold on» Gaz grabs your shoulder, lowering his voice. It was a confidential subject, not the one to speak about in a crowded dining room. But he keeps on with his curiosity anyway. «It was about weapons traffic, wasn't it?»
You nod.
«Then why a girl?»
You're about to answer, your mouth's already open even if you're not sure if filling them with a temporary lie, or just spit the truth.
Another sudden press on your shoulder takes you off from every doubt.
A big hand grabs you firmly, squeezing skin and bones underneath your uniform. Your body instantly shivers, tightening under the hold. You raise your head a little, but you know whose mask you're gonna jump into.
Ghost has the magical power to bring back the silence. He doesn't even have to speak, just a glare of his is enough. His look hits Soap and Gaz as to say: shut your bloody mouth; and they just roll their eyes at the ceiling, as to say: but we wanna know 'bout her mission, damn it.
Then he lowers on you just that tiny bit that's needed to let you feel his body heat closer, so warm against your cold limbs.
«Your presence is required» he says quickly, almost murmuring against your ear.
And here you are, walking behind his massive figure with eyes lowered on the ground, following his feet at a security distance through the base. He stops a couple of times to talk with someone, moments in which you play camouflaging with the wall; then you two reach a door, and you're so into not-seeing in front of you that you don't even look at where you are. 
He closes the door behind you, and only after a few seconds of embarrassment you find the bravery to mumbling:
«W-who required me?»
«I do»
Your heart skips a beat before your ears could collect his voice and your synapsis could elaborate its meaning. That's when you suddenly raise your sight, finding him clinging on the desk while looking at you through the mask, and even if you can't see his face it's pretty clear that he's judging you. You can read it on the skull, as there's an imaginary -but very perceptible-  neon writing saying: You're a bloody stupid gnome.
Voice escape through your lips automatically: «I'm sorry»
«'Bout what?» he kinda calls you out, pressing with his sternness on your pathetic whimpers.    
Your eyes lower again.
«…causing trouble-»
«Just that?»
You nod. You don't wanna talk about what kinda trouble; but he does.
«Take off your shirt»
Your brain flashes a sudden error signal, allowing you to shiver and wrap your arms tight around yourself. 
«…sir?»
Stupid question. You know why he's asking, the goddamn doctor had probably told him.
«Your shirt» he repeats, not moving from his place.
Two days ago, you would have started a war about this, yelling at him without regrets, brave enough to fight against your superior like two children between one small bucket. 
Not now. Now you just stand in your special spot in the office, allowing your body to move just what is needed to breathe, eyes locked on the floor. You feel him growing impatient, sighing through the mask as you're disappointing him.
«'K. If that's so…»
The sentence remains hanging in the air, and in a matter of seconds, without getting aware of how fast he came toward you, his hands are on your shoulder. You instantly panic but you're too small to fight against his weight that's pushing you against the door, pinning you still with an hand on your breastbone while the other runs to your shirt's hem.
You grab his wrist in a stupid attempt at stopping him, but he lifts the shirt up in one movement, revealing bruises, a bloody bandage, and…a little scar slightly under the belly button, fresh from the oven and still shiny from some medical gel: the writing made out of fire burns on your skin in an elegant gothic style. 
He stares at it, contemplating that swallowed piece of tattooed skin. Your face becomes so red you could spontaneously combust in this exact moment.
«Who made it?» he burst out, whispering harsh words.
You swallow hot air, digging your dry throat and hoping that whatever's gonna come out of your mouth will be the most sensible as possible.
«It's…it…traffic wasn't just 'bout weapons»
«Humans» he talks over immediately. 
You nod your head, specifying with a swallow: «women» 
«You've sneak in as a good to be sold»
«There was no other way to-»
«And they've marked you» his voice's not that high, but you're whispering enough to make it easy for him to have the upper hand on you. You become quiet, avoiding his sight, with your hands still wrapped around his wrist.
«Are you proud?»
The question wasn't expected, spitted roughly through his mouth. You clench your digits, digging in his gloves.
Then you nodd.
«Yes» the answer is a breath, warmth by your boldness and the consciousness that you've done what had to be done. And none would have taken that awareness from you. You eventually lift your sight a little, meeting his mask, letting the skull shape fill your eyes.
«Yes, I am»
You know he's looking at you as if he's got an idiot under his sight. You feel him judging, investigating your behavior, interrogating your posture. And you, trapped between a scary giant and a door, with his cold glove pressed where your belly still hurts, you dare to stare at him for one whole minute.
It seems enough: he lets you go, shaking your hands away from his wrists as he stands in all of his height against you.
«Good soldiers come home alive, little gnome»
«…it's a curious scolding from one who lives a dangerous life»
«I've already told ya: you don't know me»
«But i'm neither deaf nor blind»
«Buy a bloody mirror then». He takes two steps back, letting you breathe freely for the first time since you've entered the room. «Ya can say you see us clear, but speaking of seeing yourself…I can't say the same»
«I know me»   
«It seems not»
Blood starts to rush to your brain as the embarrassment turns into a mixed spoonful of anger and bitterness. You follow him, still at security distance, toward his desk. «Why? 'Cause you've caught me touching myself once and I made one bloody moan?»
«'S not that, and we've already talked enough 'bout it» he mumbled, pretending to not pay attention as he looks through some documents on the table.
«Oh, oh sure! Now we've talked enough about it» your arms end up crossing on your chest. «after you've ripped my elbow»
«It was just a nerve»
«Judicially irrelevant» 
«Shut your bloody mouth»
«Why? 'Cause you've told me s-»
«Yes»
You freeze; that was a cold, hard stone order. He's got his knuckles clenched on the table, his back's muscles are visibly breathing under the pressure of maintaining a glint of calm. 
«You» he turns at you, pointing a finger at your freezed face «you are a goddamn idiot, one of the worst species. I've tried to convince myself you weren't actually so stupid but, damn god, was i right in the first place»
Guilt assaults you with a knife at your throat, for reasons you don't know. And you find your eyes lower, your spirit evaporated, your anger extinguished under his glare. You try to mutter:
«I've just done my duty-»
«You threw away your life»
«The mission had to be done, that was our last possibility to catch that damn illegal traffic» you rush, raising your voice to grow some confidence in your speech «Laswell needed a woman and i just did my damn work!»
And he almost barks back, raising stern and furious eyes at you: «than what 'bout asking someone more experienced, you bloody asshole?!»
«'Cause it was needed a woman with-!». You suddenly stop, biting your inner cheek as a last word slips, almost like a whisper, through your lips: «…inclinations»
He's left speechless for a while, standing in front of you with the finger still hanging toward your figure. You swallow; you know he's going to ask more, and that's just 'cause you can't keep your mouth shut.
As if you've called it, he spit out a terse: «Explain»
You sigh. This would be a great time to sink ten meters underground.
«I» you start gesticulating, drawing figures in the air with your hands «I am…i-»
You expect him to joke about your incapability of connecting two words together; but he remains silent, looking at you almost with curiosity. And you're forced to keep on talking.
«…I like certain things people don't usually…agree to do» you force words outside your mouth, with cheeks on fire and eyes buried on the pavement.
His conclusion wastes no time to come:
«You're a submissive»
It's not a question, it's a truth and it hits you like a brick in the face, as if he'd already understood your particular nature till the beginning. There's no need for more explanation: you know what kind of submissive he's referring to, and he evidently knows just enough about the subject to grin, just a little, under the mask.
«The target was known for his…peculiar sexual tastes». The additional clarification was not necessary, but he gives it anyway. He let out a soft chuckle, almost like he's having fun thinking about it. «I can't believe that Laswell really rely on this stupid trick»
You would really clarify how much Laswell fought against your will to volunteer for that risk, but your voice is gone under the embarrassment. Your digits are digging into cuticles again, and you're about to pretend to not exist, turn your heels and just go away.
And you don't even notice he's got closer again, till he forces your face up by roughly grabbing your cheeks in one hand. 
The disappointment is palpable.
«You've run into that perv's den alone, risking yourself for a mission you knew you couldn't handle…just to satisfy your throbbing cunt?»
That hit you worse than every other thing he's thrown at you till now. Your cheeks catch fire in his hands, guilt choke air in your lungs and poisonous butterflies eat your stomach, whispering through the entrails: he's right.
But you don't want him to be right.
«I've just decided to put every weapon I've got at your service» you spit out.
His grip gets tighter. «Sure thing. And what have you gained? Apart of a saving operation that wasted everyone's time, of course»
«Mission was completed»
«We would have found another way to do it, rookie»
«But I did it» you grab his wrist, trying again to escape from his hold. «And i'm alive, so why the hell are we even talking about-»
It happens all of a sudden: he pushes you again against the door, harder and roughly enough to make your spine squeak on it. You hold a yell, and one second after you can't breathe anymore.
He holds you by your mouth, pushing on your face with his whole hand open, while the other runs down right under your belly, squeezing on your crotch like it's made of play dough.
«This is no playfield». His voice is almost a growl murmur in your ear as he lowers enough to overcome you with his bigger body. «Soldiers have morals. And dignity. Maybe 's not clear to your pretty little brain. So: watch» and he speaks slowly, growling coldness with tongue maid of sharp metal, his eyes on you with that goddamn mask supply (and you're sure you're gonna dream about his sight forever) «your. Bloody. Mouth. Kitty» 
The nickname, the grip on your pants, the fact that you're breaking your personal apnea record…just burn your brain. And, in a loss of breath, trying so desperately to find a way out of that embarrassment while freezing your hormones that are already running too low on your body…
You bite him.
You sink your teeth in his glove as hard as you can, ripping off that goddamn dignity he was speaking about, letting the residual rage work as a fuel for your mouth. He suddenly jerks with a step back, catched by surprise, tearing his hands away, and to do so…he pushes with the other hand on your lower belly.
On your goddamn freshly engraved and barely healed tattoo.
On the scar the doc pleaded with you not to touch.
You spit his glove out of your mouth, yelling like your vocal chords have turn into a megaphone.
Ten minutes later, you two are waiting outside of the infirmary.
The knock on the door doesn't distract him, too focused pretending to find his paperwork attractive.
Price gets in without invitation.
«Just a word» he sits at the desk, usual hat at his place and cigar climbing from his lips «between me and you»
Ghost doesn't lift his sight.
«I've talked with doc-»
«I don't need to be scold 'bout it, if that's what ya'r here for»
Price sighs a low, maybe a little bit too paternal: «Ghost-»
«If you two» Simon raises his voice a little «believe in trusting every goddamn rookie, sending them risking their bloody neck just 'cause they've told you how good they are at shaking their ass-»
«You've already yelled about it, give my ears a rest. In any case, Laswell made the best choice in her position» Captain talks over him. «And I agree with her. We couldn't lose that opportunity, Simon»
«She didn't even managed to end the mission alone»
«But the rookie did a great job. Only problem was taking her out of that shit»
«You can't seriously call a kink exploitation one "great job"»
«She's a soldier. We're not here to babysit, risking our life 's part of our contract»
Silence. 
Price starts to get nervous, feeling some mixed emotions that he really can't stand at six in the evening. He suddenly stands up, patting both hands on the desk, taking a deep breath before exhaling a long, almost exhausted: 
«There's nothing bad in making friends with your allies…»
Ghost is already rushing an "i don't need friends" kinda sentence, but Price anticipates him:
«Me too, i've made friendships on the battlefield that i hope will last as long as my bones will walk on the dirt. Then, we could die together and be happy in whatever hell God'll decide to send us. But» and his "but" was final «i know what you're doing here. Stop it. It's gonna be draining, for the both of you»
Ghost spits out: «I'm doing nothin'», too rushed, then muttering: «Don't even like her»
«I don't care who you like. You can marry whoever you want, you've got my approval»
«For fuck's sake Price-»
«Wanna delete her from your eyesight? Just look straight in front of you from now on. Wanna keep an eye on her?» John raises his hands, throwing Ghost's embarrassment in the air while admitting with the most honest attitude: «Sure. Ok. I keep an eye on you all every goddamn minute of my life. She's not a princess, though. And ya'r not a bloody knight»
Silence becomes again the king in the office. Price is still fixed in his extreme openness, ready to give his Lt. the best suggestions on how-to-not end up again at the infirmary with that goddamn rookie (before the doc kills the both of them).
Then Ghost finally raises his gaze.
And Price has a bad s-.,ensation in his guts, almost like he'd said something he shouldn't have.
«Keeping…an eye on her» Simon repeats, lost in thoughts.
John nodds, hesitating before leaving the office.
..................................................
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So I actually really enjoyed the little HB short with Millie and Sallie Mae.
I thought it was cute and it was breath of fresh spring air to get some scenes with JUST woman characters interacting and talking about their relationship.
That said, after watching, it just made me realize how much I want an ACTUAL episode exploring Millie and her background.
At the end of the short we get that brief conversation about Sallie Mae seeming to feel left behind when Millie moved to the city, and that honestly should have been the plot of the harvest moon festival imo.
Little reimagining of how Harvest Moon Festival could have used the basic premise/conflict in Hell’s Belles to develope Millie more and give us a better insight into her character. (Also after typing all of this out I realized I misspelled Sallie May’s name, and I’m too tired to go back and fix it please do not bully me rip 😭🪦)
So, Instead of having Moxxie compete with striker, what if we’d learned that Millie left home because she had an inferiority complex due to constantly being compared to Sally Mae, who could be the “golden child” of the family.
Maybe Sally Mae and Millie have always had a really fierce sibling rivalry, and Millie has struggled a lot with measuring up to her sister.
Striker could be not only the new farmhand, but Sally Mae’s new boyfriend. Instead of the conflict being Moxxie’s feelings of inferiority to Striker, further tension could come from Millie being upset that her parents are so accepting of Sally Mae’s partner while not approving of her’s.
Millie could be the one to find Striker’s assassin gear, and Striker manages to knock her out like he did Moxxie. Instead of Moxxie stabbing Striker like Millie did in the actual episode, it’s Sally Mae who catches Striker and stabs him to try and save her sister. The way this could be set up could also be a nice establishing character moment for Sally Mae—she’s dating Striker, but the moment she sees her sister in danger she doesn’t hesitate to try and save her sister.
Striker throws Sallie Mae and Millie into the basement, and Sallie Mae is the one to get her leg in the bear trap.
They have a sister heart to heart, where Millie expresses her frustration for not being able to take Striker out on her own and feeling like she’s always been in Sallie Mae’s shadow.
Sallie Mae could then reveal that she’s always been jealous of Millie for being her own person and going against their parent’s wishes by striking out on her own moving to Imp City. Maybe Sally Mae has always been afraid of disappointing their parents, but wishes she could also leave the farm. Or Idk, maybe she’s always been the “golden child” because she’s been trying to impress Millie, and not their parents, because she admires her sister. There’s a lot of different sibling rivalry/insecurity conflicts and dynamics that could be used here.
The main point is that they come to an understanding in the basement, Sallie Mae gives Millie a pep talk and lets her know that she can do this and take down Striker.
Millie escapes the basement and the episode plays out like it does in the actual show. Instead of Millie getting talked down to her parents at the end, it’s Sally Mae, and when they criticize Sally Mae for getting hurt and try to praise Millie for getting out of the basement and chasing Striker away with Blitzø, Millie stands up for herself and her sister, stopping her parents from pitting the siblings against each other like they did in the past.
The sisters leave on good terms and the day is saved or whatever. They hug goodbye, and promise to stay in touch more and visit soon.
This could potentially help set up the idea of Millie having an inferiority complex and struggling with not believing she’s important that, in my opinion, comes out of absolutely nowhere in “Unhappy Campers”. If it’s established early that Millie has always struggled with feeling less-than in comparison to Sallie Mae and her siblings, it makes a lot more sense that she’d be so excited with the attention she receives in Unhappy Campers. And that she’d be extra upset by Moxxie’s lack of support.
Also for anyone asking “what about moxxie” idk. helluva boss loves their b and c plots so maybe there could be a slapstick bit where Millie’s brothers keep trying to wrestle Moxxie, so Moxxie is always hiding from them or getting tackled by them. Or maybe Moxxie could be really excited to try and bond with Millie’s family and get to know them more, so he keeps trying to connect with them in different awkward ways. Whatever. This is Millie’s episode now, I don’t care what moxxie does.
This is a very very basic re-imagining, and it’s definitely been done before and can be cliche. I want to make it really really clear that I’m NOT writing this out as a “fix-it”.
More of just a “what-if” and wishing about what may have been in terms of Millie getting more character development in the show proper, instead of getting a tiny bit of development and background info in a 5 minute short.
It’s just a shame because I’d love to have more concrete development for Millie. The short gave us a LITTLE insight into her and Sallie May’s characters, but it feels like we’re still being given crumbs about who Millie is as a character after a season and a half.
We should know more about her by now other than “likes violence/is good at fighting” and “is cheerful”. And also feels unimportant sometimes even thought she’d never given any indication that she’d ever struggled with that before.
Also I don’t think the voice direction for Sally Mae was done well. I liked her voice in “Harvest Moon” but it felt like the voice actress was struggling with keeping the southern accent in tact + sounding natural.
Overall, I did really like the short, but it also made me kind of sad for what could have been in terms of giving Millie more of the spotlight.
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