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#the class reminded me I can just. Do environments. And not have them as a punishment. Like they’re not always that specific about exact per
astralis-ortus · 4 months
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✱ boyfriend!bc × fem!reader
— maybe the actual remedy is his smile.
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w.count → 1.2k genre → fluff warnings → reader is sick :(, mild cussing, kissing, cute pet names (baby, love, princess) and generally very much in love it makes me sick >:( heh a.n → based on this request! kinda speeding through this (immediately worked on this after i posted the last fic), but i am in need of just pure fluff so here we are, a few hours later. heh♡ ⋆ see masterlist
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being sick felt like shit.
growing up, you’ve always been the kid with perfect attendance. be it in school or throughout uni, you’ve always made the effort to attend every single one of your classes—and one of the reasons was all because you rarely ever got sick. maybe it’s because of your parents’ good genes, or likely due to how your mom made sure you always took your daily vitamins, but you’re always known as one the healthiest kids in the class.
that record, however, ended after you graduated a few years back.
you’d like to blame it the shift of environment—you know, given that you literally flew thousands of miles away to chase your lifelong dream, but considering you also moved states away from home for uni… that likely wasn’t the case.
“hey there, sleepyhead.”
a soft groan rolled off your lips when you felt your bed dip to your boyfriend’s weight, his fingers gently ran through your surely messy hair. your attempt to crack a peek at chris wasn’t quite a success, considering how even the slightest bleeding light from the gap behind your curtain was quick to trigger the soft throb in your head to return, fetching another set of low whimpers out of you.
“it’s okay, baby. i’m here. how’s your headache?” he hummed; pads of his fingers now gently pressed against the base of your head as he attempted to relief any pain that might still linger.
chris, your angel of a boyfriend, had been taking care of you since your condition started to decline the day prior. despite your stubbornness about still going to work (which didn’t end well, considering you were sent home by lunch anyway), chris didn’t even peep a word and readily picked you up from work, all geared up with your favorite porridge and cold medicine he picked up on the way.
“it’s fine as long as i don’t open my eyes,” you meekly answered, voice still noticeably very different from your usual cheery ones. “which reminds me, we do need a black out curtain, hun.”
his chuckle filled the rather quiet bedroom, involuntarily tugging the corner of your pale lips into a smile. “we’ll get them after you’re all better, baby,” he assured, hand that rested on the back of your neck now pressed against your forehead, “fever’s pretty much gone. think you could sit up for a bit? gotta fill your tummy with food before the meds, love.”
you know he’s right—you do need to eat, but with the way you’re currently feeling, protesting at any request to shift your body was the only available option.
“can i just eat later?” you pursed your lips, attempting to appeal your plea with a dash of cuteness you knew chris have a hard time standing his ground against. “maybe sleeping more will help…”
“nuh uh, no can do, princess,” chris gently tapped his finger on the tip of your nose, “you need the meds. the food too, but most importantly your meds. i don’t want your suffering to prolong just because you didn’t get your meds on time,” he reasoned, pads of his fingers now gently massaging the top of your head and in turn made you sigh in relief. chris always knew what to do whenever you complained about a headache, and you’re grateful for that.
“fiiine,” you exaggerated, reaching out your arms as a signal for chris to help you up. even with your eyes closed, you knew he had that proud grin etched on his lips when he gently pulled you to sit straight. you winced at the ache, but voiced no complaint as chris planted a light kiss on your scrunched forehead.
“a sec, okay? i’ll bring the radish soup for you,” chris left another kiss on the top of your head, grinning at how excitedly you reacted to the kind of food he had prepared before you heard his disappearing footsteps.
you forced a peek around the room, noticing the dim lighting as chris kept the curtains closed for your comfort. after a quick scan of your and chris’ bedroom, one you’ve been spending a little too much time in for the past couple of days, your line of sight then rested upon your locked phone. a single tap on the screen, and the action easily made your brows furrow.
“babe—”
“chris, it’s 10am on a thursday,” you pointed out as soon as you heard his voice from just beyond the slightly ajar door, “didn’t you say things has been hectic lately?”
“well, yeah,” he shrugged, careful footsteps finally returned to your side, followed by the dip on your bed, “but you’re sick. getting you back to health is a lot more important to me than anything else.”
“christopher,” you groaned, pursing your lips in protest, “i told you to not do things like this! you’re important, what you do is important. you can’t let me stop you from doing all that!”
“but i’m not letting you,” he replied nonchalantly, blowing on the spoonful of soup and rice before he feeds you. “it is my decision. i want to take care of you, and nothing is more important for me than you. as simple as that.”
“but—”
“no more discussion on that matter, baby,” chris warned you, stern gaze immediately shutting off any complaints about to leave your tongue. “it’s on me. you’re my girlfriend, and to take care of you is what i need to do, because i love you and i want all the best for you. okay?”
maybe it’s the fever returning, but you could feel your cheeks warming up.
“…fine.”
with his lips blooming into a content smile, his hand returned to the steady flow of bowl-cooling off-feeding you. he’s happy, and it’s apparent through the way his gaze lingers on you every time you take another bite, slowly finishing the bowl of food in his hand.
maybe it’s your head fooling you with some kind of placebo effect, but you do feel better—simply by watching the tenderness in his face every time he looks at you.
“all done,” he cheerily announced after you took your last bite, gently wiping the corners of your lips with the pad of his thumb. “be back with the meds, okay? just a sec.”
his movements immediately ceased when he felt a tug on the t-shirt he’s wearing, eyes immediately returning to you in worry. “yes, love?”
you quietly looked at him, suddenly feeling a little shy—but why would you be?
“…you.”
“huh?” chris blinked, head involuntarily tilted to one side in confusion. “what was that, love?”
oh god.
“i really wanna kiss you,” you reiterated, lips slightly pursed in embarrassment, “but i don’t want you to catch the cold. but like—you’re just so adorable. why are you like this? i’m—"
any thoughts you had immediately vaporized as soon as you felt chris’ soft lips on yours—smile apparent against your lips. his warm hand gently cradled your cheek, and despite it being short, chris successfully left you feeling dazed.
“…wait,” you eventually blinked, face burning in embarrassment when you realized the cheeky grin he’s sporting just inches away from your face. “christopher! you’re gonna get sick!”
“well, what do you expect me to do?” chris shrugged as he walked backwards, away from you,
“my girlfriend said she wanted to kiss me—how could i say no to that?”
“gosh—christopher!”
©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡
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bunnyhugs77 · 10 months
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Daddy Daycare
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Pairing: Technician! Jungkook x Teacher's Assistant! Reader
Word Count: 7k
Part: 1, 2, 3
Series Content: daycare au, suggestive themes, love at first sight? dilf jk, mentions of antidepressants, mint jk and blonde jk, jk cant sleep, sexual themes, he's so whipped, toxic ex, minor baby mama drama, gold diggers, mentions of death, complicated family history, cute kid cameos, reader can't drive, jk is good with his hands, mentions of abusive relationships, so much fluff.
Other Series Content: soft dom! jk, muscle kink, pussy puts his ass to sleep, unprotected sex (just don't), oral sex (f! and m! receiving), brief choking, minor breeding kink, hickeys, brief dom! reader, reader makes him wait, intimate cuddling, praise.
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"Ready for a new year, Y/n?"
Your nose was filled with the smell of fresh paint and scotch tape as you and your co-worker Vanessa who goes by Ms. Powell when the class is swarming with bright and bustling four-year-old's.
The loud sound of ripping tape rang through your ears as you pasted the pieces onto the back of the welcome sign. The sun was hardly out as the two of you arranged to arrive at your new classroom bright and early at 5 am to finish off the decorations for the classroom.
"I can't believe the summer is finished already." You say with a rejuvenated smile. "I can only imagine how fast the time flies when you're travelling Europe." She reminds you of your two-week-long travels across the south of Europe.
Standing to your feet for what feels like the first time ever after hours of crouching and kneeling to finish up the decorations. "I think that's the last of it," with a puff of air and a pair of hands on your hips you smile to yourself, satisfied with the lively environment the two of you managed to create.
"I think we're ready," Vanessa says, cracking open a fresh whiteboard marker to sign your names on the board in a warm welcome.
With a quick glance down to your watch. "-and just in time too,".
The sun had peaked over the horizon no more than thirty minutes ago which means that theatrical parents would be rolling in any minute now to send off their kids to what could possibly be their first day away from them.
You both took the last few minutes to run down the hall and get changed, making sure you both looked ready to take on 22 pre-schoolers. Although you weren't the head teacher, you still had just as much of a responsibility as Vanessa did and it wasn't always easy.
The scar on your upper arm which was victim to the shark-like teeth of an ambitious little boy last year can attest to that.
You smiled warmly to some parents who passed by you in the halls on your way back to the classroom. Some familiar faces, some new, although based on the direction they were walking, they weren't any kids in your class.
By the time you returned to yours, there were already two parents bidding their farewells with their energetic offspring who were already reaching for the crayons you'd left on each table.
You slowly made your way to the front with Vanessa as the two of you prepared to introduce yourselves to the large crowd of parents and students that situated themselves around the room.
The energy was high, you could practically feel some of the anxiety and excitement from the crowd.
"Hello everyone!" Vanessa starts, clasping her hands together, "On behalf of Sunshine Circles Daycare, we want to give you all a warm welcome to our class."
Vanessa introduces herself professionally before briefly gesturing to you, cueing your smile, "And this is Ms. Hill, she will be assisting both me and the students around the classroom. I wouldn't be able to do this without her." You nod along, preparing yourself to speak.
"Yes, so if ever Ms. Powell is unavailable, don't be afraid to share any questions or concerns with me that you have about the class or your child." Out of sight, somewhere in the crowd a pair shuffled through the large group of bodies and made their way to the front.
"We're looking forward to-" You paused, your eyes meeting the eyes of the man who just emerged from the crowd while holding the small hand of who you presumed was his son, he looked a little younger than the rest of the parents, and significantly buffer if you must add.
You could see peaks of his soft blue hair sticking out from underneath his black beanie that matched his black wife beater. He flashes you a coy smile, so innocent and handsome to the point he'd made you forget your train of thought and completely forget what you were in the middle of saying.
"I think what Ms. Hill was about to say was that we're looking forward to having a wonderful year full of learning and fun." Vanessa fills in your blanks and all you could utter was a small 'mhm!'.
With that said, the parents that'd been here since the very beginning had naturally begun to take their leave, not without a tight hug and reassuring kiss to their child's forehead of course.
"Sorry we're late," You turn around, and it's as if the air was sucked out of your lungs. The man was even more stunning up close, but that was something you vowed you would never acknowledge again. He's the guardian of one of your students, it would be unprofessional.
"That's no problem at all, life happens," you chirp, almost too happily. "Isn't that the truth, Ryan here couldn't seem to find his favourite shoes and refused to wear anything but." The man smiles, and wow, even his smile was attractive.
If you thought his smile was contagious you just couldn't stop yourself from beaming when you finally looked down to meet Ryan's big grin. "Look! It's lightning McQueen!" He shouts, stomping his feet at one hundred miles a minute, the base of his sneakers flashing red and white as he does so.
"Your shoes are awesome! I wish mine could do that." You return his big energy with a bit of a softer tone, oblivious to the way the man is watching you intently. All of a sudden Ryan was hopping up and down, tugging on his dad's arm, "Can I colour?!" He points to the table full of markers and blank papers.
"Well, you're going to have to ask Ms. Hill first, okay buddy?" The man looks at you with a damn near glow in his gaze, "Of course it's okay. Use as many colours as you'd like." Before you could even finish your sentence, Ryan was long gone, only the flashes of his sneakers were proof that he hadn't teleported.
"Have you been teaching here long?" He asks, prompting you to shake your head. "This is actually only my second year teaching here," subconsciously his plump bottom lip found itself victim between his teeth. "Ah," he sighs.
There was a brief pause in your conversation. As if it were planned, both of your gazes dropped down to analyze the other's left hand, looking for any signs of that metallic band wrapped around the ring finger.
Seems like you were both in the clear, for now.
Your conversation resumed as if the ring inspection never even happened and soon the both of you were finally making introductions. "The kids call me Ms. Hill, but you're more than welcome to call me Y/n." That lip ring was taunting you as it sat so comfortably in his plush pink lips that stretched into a soft smile.
"It's a pleasure to meet you Y/n, I'm Jungkook."
~~
"Goddamn it." You mutter. Giving the projector another hard hit in the back as it flickered and failed to turn on. It had been giving you a hard time all week.
You're at least grateful it let you have a successful first week of the year but now it was acting up more than ever. Kids would be coming any minute and Vanessa was stuck in traffic, so you would somehow need to find a way to fix this and supervise all before--
"Good morning Ms. Hill," Never mind you think, giving the projector one last frustrated tap. Disregarding it as if it never happened and focusing on Jungkook and Ryan who just walked in.
Ryan shouts a cheery good morning of his own before getting his hands on the toy car he's grown fond of over the last week. Unspokenly declaring it as his own.
"I couldn't help but notice.. and hear your frustrations with the projector from down the hall. Something wrong?" He takes two confident strides towards the equipment with you trailing along.
"Yeah, it's been breaking down all week. I was hoping to show the kids a video today, but it seems I may have to improvise." He didn't respond with anything more than his warm smile as he laid his hand down on the top of the projector giving it a once over.
His brows furrow ever so slightly before he lets out a little laugh.
"What's so funny?" your arms cross instinctively, eyes never leaving his lean frame as he practically struts over to the outlet and properly plugs in the cord, the graphics now displaying perfectly on the screen.
"In all of my years working in tech, that may have been one of the hardest cases to solve." He teases and you subconsciously let your tongue poke the inside of your cheek, failing to hide an embarrassed smile.
You waved to the parents who were dropping off more students, "If you ever have any more technical issues, I'd be happy to help." He reaches into his back pocket and places one of his business cards in your hand. "I will, thank you."
You shook off whatever the hell it was that was bubbling in your stomach, and reminded yourself things were strictly professional and he was only offering to be nice, nothing more.
-
The weeks were flying by without you realizing it until Thanksgiving was mere weeks around the corner. Which meant today was show and tell. Vanessa instructed everyone to sit on the carpet in a big circle.
Yesterday you reminded parents to help their child to find something they loved at home so they could bring it to show and tell.
"Thanksgiving is a special day of the year where we-" Vanessa was in the middle of explaining from where she sat crisscrossed on the carpet in the circle while you picked up the abandoned crayons and papers on the desk.
"Eat lots of food," cute giggles filled the room from Carly's outburst. "Yes, that's right. We eat lots of food on Thanksgiving and it's a day to be grateful for everything you have. Can anyone tell me what it means to be grateful for something?"
The class had never been so quiet, full of scrunched brows and blank stares. "It means to be happy with what you have. How many of you have toys at home?" Almost all hands shot up at once, you were afraid someone would lose an eye.
"Do you like your toys,? The room filled with lots of loud and affirmative responses, "To be grateful for something like your toys means showing them extra love and saying thank you to your parents who bought them."
By the time you'd finished cleaning up and joined the circle, they were about halfway through the circle for show and tell, everyone getting a chance to say what they brought and why they loved it along with passing it around the circle.
"Thank you for sharing Ms. Cuddlepuff with us Riley."
"Ryan, what did you bring?" He practically lights up when his turn finally comes around. He introduced his favourite blue race car, and described it as fast and shiny, even holding it while he spun the wheels for us.
"What an amazing car! Do you want to pass it around?" He shakes his head. You tried to be gentle understanding why he wouldn't want to share, "Don't you want your friends to be able to see your amazing car too?" He shakes his head, hugging his toy close to his chest and scooting further back, removing himself from the circle.
"Ryan-" Vanessa tries to reason but he starts to yell, "I don't want to share! It's mine!" He stomps his feet, the lights on his shoes flashing red, a similar shade to his furious expression.
You looked over to Vanessa, the both of you deciding you weren't going to fight him on it.
"Okay Jamie, what did you bring today?" He shakes his head as if he is mimicking Ryan's behaviour. "I don't want to share either."
Oh boy.
Finding a way to get the rest of the class to share their objects had taken all of your willpower and the rest of the day, right until parents were walking in, ready for pick up.
"Hey," You smile as you watched Jungkook walk in wearing his typical white collared shirt with the top button open giving you only the slightest peak of the silver chain beneath that sat atop his honey-kissed skin--
"Daddy!" Ryan squeaked, running off to grab his coat and shoes.
"How was he today?" You tried to hide your regret but he noticed it, no matter how fast it flashed across your features. "What is it?" His voice was soft, welcoming any feedback.
"He had a bit of a hard time sharing during the show and tell. He didn't want his classmates to touch his car, which I understand but we try to encourage the students to be kind and share." Your heart was pounding, you always hated these kinds of talks.
You felt that it was just criticism, but in reality, it was just one rainy in comparison to one hundred sunny ones. Jungkook exhaled heavily. "I don't know what is with him and this car, he won't even let me hold it."
As if on cue, Ryan comes running back to his father with his jacket on and car in hand. His dad ruffles his hair playfully while the boy wraps his arms around his father's legs.
"I'm sorry about what happened. We're working on it, I promise." Nothing but sincerity rolled off his tongue as he looked down at the child who clung to his jeans.
"Come on buddy, let's go. Say bye to Ms. Hill."
"Bye, Ms. Hill!" He waves back to you before walking out the door.
As the clock rolled closer the 4:30, all the kids had gone home and it was just you and Vanessa going through the schedules for tomorrow.
"So how long are you gonna keep flirting with Ryan's dad." maybe you'd put on too much lotion earlier, it was pure coincidence that your pencil had immediately fallen from your hand.
She laughs as if something were hilarious. "I am so not flirting with him." She rolls her eyes, "Oh please, I have never seen you spend nearly half as much time talking to the other parents as much as you talk to him. Not to mention the hearts in your eyes."
You let your head fall into your hands out of sheer embarrassment, "I don't know what to do!" You almost shriek into your sweaty palms.
"A word of advice, save yourself the trouble and don't get involved. I don't believe that he's married but that doesn't mean there are no strings attached either. Believe me, I've been there, things can get messy and it's just not something you want."
Vanessa was bout seven years older than you, somewhere around 32 so you always took her advice to heart. "But didn't you end up marrying them, and then have two children?" She goes silent. "Yeah, well life is unpredictable."
You groan, letting your body fall back onto the carpet.
-
"Attention passengers, This is your driver speaking. I regret to inform you that we are currently experiencing a mechanical issue, and the bus has broken down. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause."
Your head rolled back and hit the wall behind you. This is fantastic. It was supposed to be a great day today. It's Friday today. Specifically the last day before your three-day long weekend before the long weekend with Thanksgiving falling on the Monday.
You checked the time, 7:45. You should be there in 10 minutes, and honestly, you considered getting off the bus and walking but there were about 4 inches of freshly fallen snow from last night covering the city and it was far too cold to embark on such a journey at this time of day.
You wouldn't be there until 9 at the earliest.
Meanwhile,
"Have a great day Ryno. Daddy loves you." Jungkook places a quick peck on Ryan's forehead watching him join his friends. He couldn't help himself from scanning the class for you, wondering where you were.
In the meantime he approached Vanessa, handing her a small gift box. "I know Ryan has such a big personality, so here's a little something to help you get through the day." He smiles, "Happy Thanksgiving."
She was shocked to be receiving a gift for Thanksgiving, she usually only expected them around the holidays. It was a $50 gift card to her favourite coffee shop, she has their signature cup of coffee on her desk every morning. "Thank you, Mr. Jeon, this is incredibly thoughtful, and Ryan is such a delight to teach."
"I also have something for Ms. Hill, but I haven't seen her. Is she away today?" Vanessa's brows scrunched, realizing that you would usually be there by now. Her phone begins to ring, "Oh- This is her calling now." Jungkook didn't know whether to stay and listen but he couldn't bring himself to walk away.
"Your bus broke down? Where?"
"East of Park Avenue? That's 30 minutes away." Jungkook's brain was doing summersaults around a mental map he was programming in his head trying to locate where you were based on the information he was hearing.
The conversation continued for a minute more until it ended with Vanessa reminding you to 'stay warm'. "God, that's terrible. It's freezing outside." Jungkook frets and Vanessa manages to contain her thoughts from expressing themselves on her face, suppressing the smirk and opting for a head nod instead.
No less than 5 minutes had passed when Jungkook found himself behind the wheel driving towards your location. The minutes passed like seconds when he spotted the bus sitting on the side of the road.
Parking right behind it, he stepped out of the car and walked along the sides of it trying to spot you, but you saw him first. At first, you couldn't believe it but once you saw that ring tucked into his bottom lip, all doubts were gone.
You grabbed your bag and stepped off the bus, meeting him there at the steps. Looking down at him as the snow gently fell on his beanie, neither of you spoke. Your eyes seemed to be doing all the talking.
"Er-hem." Someone cleared their throat behind you, letting you know that they also wanted to get off and you were blocking the way. Apologizing you stepped off and to the side.
"What are you doing here?"
"I heard about what had happened and I couldn't stand there and do nothing. It's freezing out here." You could hardly look at him, he was just too cute, his nose and cheeks were beginning to turn a little rosy from the cold breeze that swept the snow across the sky.
"You came all this way just to give me a ride?" There were puffs of condensation with every breath and he nodded slowly, a little afraid he was coming off as a creep. "Y-yeah, I hope that's alright with you."
"That's perfectly fine with me, let's go before I lose feeling in my fingers for good." he snickers as you practically run towards the car that he'd unlocked.
You were so relieved to be sitting in a warm car with heated seats.
It was no time before Jungkook pulled out and began the careful drive back to the daycare.
The silence was comfortable and it gave you time to focus on regaining feelings in your limbs.
"I never knew that you took the bus," Jungkook starts, turning your face away from the flurries that fall outside the window and landing on the side of his face as he feigns concentration on the road.
"It's my only option since I don't drive," Jungkook's jaw fell open. He tried to catch it in time but it was too late, "Yeah yeah I know. I'm 25 and I don't drive." He takes advantage of the red light to face you, "There's no shame in that. I didn't mean to come off as judgy I was just surprised."
"No, I know. I'm not mad, I'm actually used to it. " The silence resumes, "Is there a reason why you don't drive?" He immediately regretted asking, he felt like he was prying and didn't want to make you uncomfortable. You were already in his car for god's sake.
"You don't have to-"
"I was 19." 
Never mind, he thinks. You seemed more than ready to share.
"I was coming home from school, I had just finished my first exam of many, the roads were dark and I was tired. I thought I saw something run across the street but I told myself I was seeing things. Suddenly there was a thud. My car rocked over and over again, so finally, I stopped. I got out and I was terrified to see the trail of blood that ran behind my wheel. There was a black cat that got caught on my tires and kept getting dragged and rolled around for 20 yards."
Jungkook's hand had somehow found its way cupped over his mouth throughout your story, nothing could have prepared him for a story like that.
"I'm a monster. I know. I've never driven since that day. It's best for the world If I simply don't drive." Now resuming his driving, he took one hand off the wheel to place on your shoulder. "Don't talk like that. You're not a monster. It's not your fault. It's not like you did it on purpose. I'm sure the cat forgives you."
You shake your head, "It doesn't change what I did."
Somehow the conversation had taken a brighter turn to the long weekend. "What are your plans for the weekend?" You ask him as he turns into the parking lot of the daycare.
"Same as always, Ryan and I will probably watch movies, cook and do some crafts." Your heart warmed at the engaged weekend he had ahead of him. "That sounds so sweet. I'm sure you guys have loads of fun." He nods, "How about you?"
You laugh sadly, "My parents decided to ditch the cold weather this year and headed to Florida a few weeks ago, so I'll be thankful for wool socks and gossip girl." he laughs.
"You know, It'd be a shame to spend the holidays on your own. You're more than welcome to join our festivities." you looked out the window, not in disinterest but so that he couldn't see the way your cheeks tinted pink.
He parks, "No I wouldn't want to impose on-"
"I insist. You wouldn't be doing anything of the sort. it would be nice to have you." You smile. "Okay, I'll be there,"
The hours flew by faster than you could even realize. Practically startled to see a parent walking into the classroom ready to pick up their child, and just like that, the day was over.
There were no more than a handful of kids left, but no more than the usual 5 or 6 whose parents had signed them up for aftercare due to their schedules, including Ryan who you just watched offer his crayons to his classmate Lia.
Vanessa was quick to acknowledge his kindness and gave him a sticker, you would have loved to have been part of the moment but unfortunately, you were just pulled into the hall by another teacher being asked to supervise another class while she used the bathroom.
By the time you returned, you saw Jungkook and Ryan packing up the last of their things getting ready to go, but he seemed almost relieved to see you.
"I never got the chance to give this to you earlier this morning," He hands you a small bag. You were stunned at what was inside. "In the spirit of thanksgiving, I wanted to show you my gratitude." He smiles.
You pry the bag open delicately moving over the tissue paper to see a hardcover novel. You knew the cover anywhere. "I've been trying to get my hands on this book for months! It's been sold out everywhere how did you get it?"
A sly grin slowly works its way across his features but he doesn't say. "How did you even know I wanted this?" You were trying your best to resist the urge to hug him. "I'd only seen you with the previous book laying on your desk wide open a dozen times, and all the sticky notes you'd have sticking out. It was a lucky guess that you were a fan of the series."
Stunned to silence, you let your smile speak for itself. "I love it. Thank you so much." His hand raises to his chest as a sign of relief but it is actually him trying to calm his racing heart. He was afraid you wouldn't like it; but what was there not to like?
How couldn't you like it?
-
Why couldn't you find anything you liked? Nearly half your closet was on your bed, quickly falling to the floor over time as you searched high and low for something to wear. This would be the first time Jungkook would see you outside of your workloads so you wanted to look good, but not too good of course.
You didn't want to seem like you were trying too hard. Being effortlessly flawless was the look you were trying to go for but you fear you've passed that point as you started to break a sweat a few minutes ago.
Unsure of how much time has passed, feeling stuck in the endless fashion time warp continuum. The pit in your stomach suddenly grew three times larger once you'd realized you had no more than 30 minutes to get ready if you wanted to catch your bus.
Begrudgingly, you finally picked something to wear. A minimalistic brown crew neck with your black Lulu leggings and beige wool socks that would match perfectly with your Uggs. You wanted to look cute but still put together, so you decided to slick your hair up into a neat bun.
Scrambling to grab your bag and your house keys before you paced your way down the street to the bus stop.
Watching the apartment buildings slowly become more narrow and shorter as you saw more and more modern condos. Only 20 minutes had passed on your commute until it was time to begin your 7-minute walk to your destination.
With one last sneak peek into your bag to make sure the desserts you'd brought were still in order and weren't dishevelled at some point during your journey.
Looking back up to the door, ringing the bell and waiting no more than 10 seconds before an over-eager Ryan swung the door open, out of sight but not out of earshot, you could still hear Jungkook's sweet voice scolding his son.
"Ryan, what did I tell you about opening the door?" Finally, he comes into sight from around a bend inside revealing an entirely new Jungkook.
He looked, good. Better than good. He looked hot.
Wearing an army green Essentials hoodie paired with beige cargos and a silver chain that hung around his neck.
Oh, and his hair was blonde.
Surprised that your eyes hadn't fallen out of their sockets at the sight of his freshly bleached locks with his naturally dark roots. God, he was so fine.
"Hey! Come in, come in. " He steps to the side and Ryan is gently nudged over by his dad's leg to make room for you and your things as you step inside.
Your senses are immediately welcomed by the scent of mahogany, carefully chosen as it mingles with the comforting aromas of a Thanksgiving feast in the making.
"Hi, Ms. Hill!" Ryan shouts, loud enough for you to hear from 50 feet away. He was just the cutest, "Hi, Ryan!"
Jungkook smiled, "I'm glad you could make it," instinctively reaching out to take the bag from your hands so you could focus on taking off your shoes and jacket. "I brought this for you guys." You say, prompting Jungkook to peek into the bad, grinning at the sight of the mini chocolate cupcakes.
"I can't guarantee these will make it to tomorrow."
Once your boots were off and sat neatly near the door, Jungkook offered to take your jacket from you, entrusting Ryan with the duty of holding the bag with the desserts and sending him off to place them somewhere in the kitchen.
"Your hair." You finally say, giving your neck a minor strain as you look up to the man as he leads you further into the house. Everything was styled so neatly.
The colour palette consists of soft whites and beige with a splash of greens and turquoise. The fireplace was lit, emanating a gentle warmth throughout the open concept. It gave the living room a cozy feel along with the brown fleece throw blanket that was placed carefully over his sectional couch.
"Yeah, I got pretty sick of the blue, I thought it was time for a change." With a mind of their own, his hands run through his hair before he gives it a shake. "Do you like it?" He knew the answer, you're sure he did.
It's like a demi-god asking if they were attractive, the answer was obvious. "It would be a lie if I said I didn't." You leaned onto the kitchen island, your line of sight landing on the four-year-old who busied himself with the pile of crayons and paper on the carpet.
You hated how easily the two of you fell into natural conversation almost forgetting that it was Thanksgiving if it weren't for the sudden waft of a delicious meal in the making hitting your nose. "Something smells delicious." Your nose twitched cutely as you sniffed; your curious brown eyes watching Jungkook as he rounded the island closer to you to check on the food in the oven.
"Hmmm... It'll be about another hour or so, I hope that's alright?" You'd decided to finally plant yourself down somewhere, inwardly unable to decide where since there were so many options, the big comfy couch, the table or the barstool chair that you finally decided to go with.
"In the meantime, do you want anything to drink? I have water, champagne, white wine, red wine, apple cider, coffee, milk- oh! and Apple juice." you can't help but giggle into your hand as he lists off what seems to be a never-ending list of beverages.
"Apple juice is fine, thanks." Or at least you thought it was the safe choice until you heard a loud objection bubble out of Ryan's throat. His voice was absolutely enraged. "No! That's mine!" His little steps quicken over to your feet, reaching for the juice box from your hand.
"Ryan. What did I tell you about sharing?" He doesn't listen, his face becoming more and more frustrated the longer he goes without your (his) juice box in his hands. His small hands reach out for you.
One could blame it on your background of teaching when you had an idea. Reaching for the child-sized cup on the counter as you popped open the juice box.
"Is it okay if we share it? You can have some and I can have some." He still didn't seem entirely convinced but he calmed down a little watching you squeeze half of the box into his cup before handing it down to him.
Holding the cup securely with his two hands he looks down into the cup with an inquisitive look, as if questioning your motives behind your generosity. "What do you say to Ms. Hill for being so nice and sharing?" He looks up at you, with no emotion on his face for an uncomforting amount of time, scanning you.
"Thank you, Ms. Hill!" He beams with a big smile and scuttles back to his drawing station, but Jungkook can't risk the little adventurer ruining his carpet and orders him to drink it in the kitchen. At least that way any spills can be wiped away from the tile.
Jungkook couldn't get over how patient you were, but he supposed it to be expected. You worked with dozens of kids every day for a living. You must be a saint. He's sure he would've lost it.
Jungkook groans, letting his head fall onto his arms as he leans onto the counter with a long sigh, one that lifts a bit of exhaustion from within him. "Everything alright?"
He nods, "'Jus' never thought being a single father would be this difficult. Every day it's eat sleep work repeat, on top of being a dad to a child who just can't seem to share with others, and it makes me wonder if it's my fault."
Maybe it was the hazy scented candles getting to your brain, the toasty fireplace nearby giving you warm fuzzies or maybe the apple juice had a little kick to it but you took a leap of boldness to place your hand on his shoulder.
Watching his eyes trail from your short manicured nails to your big brown eyes that looked at him with the utmost sincerity. Like a pool chocolate kindness. "He's a great kid, Jungkook. Every child goes through a rebellious stage at some point, it's practically inevitable. I've seen this over a thousand times, it doesn't take away from how special he is, just look at him."
The two of you observe the preschooler as he hums the tune to an incomprehensible song with his tongue slightly poking out as he coloured his papers passionately. "Thank you, Y/n." Your head whips around at the warm contact of his hand on yours, it didn't feel alarming at all, it was nice if anything.
-
"Wow. I don't think I could eat another bite, that may just be the best meal I've ever had." You groan, a limp hand on your stomach as you lean back in your chair, sitting across from Ryan whose placemat was covered in various foods and sauces that he was told to stop playing with half through dinner.
Jungkook grins from ear to ear, "Thanks, it's nice to hear." You sigh, "No seriously, where did you learn to cook like that? And more importantly, when can you teach me?" His head falls back as he laughs right from his chest. You couldn't help but think how much you were enjoying yourself.
"Funny you should say that," Jungkook picks up the empty plates from the table, putting them in the sink before walking out of view briefly leaving you with Ryan who stared at you with a grin.
"Where did your dad go?" His smile grew even wider if possible before bringing his gravy-covered index finger to his lips making a 'shush' noise. No more than 5 seconds passed before Jungkook returned with a pumpkin about the size of your head.
"Who wants to make pumpkin pie?" You laugh, unable to take him seriously.
-
"No I can't Jungkook- NO!" You shout, afraid you'd collapse from the lack of oxygen that was reaching your lungs from so much laughter as Jungkook was currently holding your hand trying to get you to scoop out some of the pumpkin seeds.
"You can do it, Ms. Hill!" Ryan cheers you on as your fingers make contact with the guts against your will. They were slimy, and soft, and triggered your sensory issues in every way imaginable. You gagged while Ryan laughed until his face was red.
Scooping out the last of them and placing them into the bag that Jungkook would dump into the compost later.
The three of you popped the pumpkin pie into the oven together and transitioned into your next set of activities. Soon the three of you made your own custom turkeys out of construction paper and googly eyes.
Which led you to now. The three of you snuggled up under the big brown blanket that was once just decoration but now provided warmth along with the crackling fireplace.
Now halfway into the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving movie, you looked into your side where Ryan had nestled himself comfortably, soft snores leaving his mouth with each breath.
"He's just the cutest." You say, moving one of his hairs out of his face, watching him while Jungkook watched you. Nothing is more appealing to him than watching you care for Ryan. "When did you know you wanted to start working with kids?" Jungkook asks, prompting you to think endlessly but you couldn't come to a conclusion.
"I don't know honestly. Maybe it's because I grew up in a pretty big family. Even though my immediate family is just me and my parents I was always the unspoken babysitter at family events, watching over all my younger cousins all the time."
"Well if no one has told you, let me be the first to say you're amazing." You turn to him, it was long past sunset, leaving the living room with a darker ambiance than when you'd first arrived but the warm glow of the flames on the side of Jungkook's face paired with that look in his eyes tempting you.
He leaned in ever so slightly but you looked towards the boy that was stirring uncomfortably in his sleep as if you were bothering him. With his still closed he flipped around to lay his head on the couch cushions instead.
It was impossible to contain your soft giggles at his sass even when he was sleeping. "You want something to drink?" Jungkook offers, "Please." you chuckle, unravelling yourself from the tangle of blankets and following him to the kitchen.
He poured you both a glass of wine, resuming your previous conversation from where you stood in the corner of the kitchen against the counter near the oven that radiated a glorious smell of pumpkin spice and cinnamon.
The tension could be cut with a knife. The way the two of you were looking at each other, practically stripping the other down with your eyes. Before you knew it, Jungkook was leaning into you and this time you definitely could blame it on the wine.
Placing your glass down on the counter behind you without thought and pulling his face to yours before finally pressing your lips against his own. Putting your heart into it before he pulled away, looking minorly dishevelled and flustered, "I-I was just reaching for my phone," He points weakly, his joints feeling as though they could fail him any second.
Your head rotates in horror to see his phone was in fact behind you and buzzing-- "Oh my god--" You held your red face in utter embarrassment, turning to walk away from him in shame but Jungkook would never allow that. Instantly grabbing you by the arm and pulling you back into him.
Your hips pressed flush against each other as he initiated a deep kiss, the kind you see at the end of a romance movie, nothing but passion and pent-up feelings. Feelings that he's held for you since the day he saw you.
He backed you up into the counter, your hands scrambling to brace yourself on his firm chest and he groaned softly into your mouth causing your knees to go weak. The kiss lasted longer than you thought you could hold your breath for, never wanting it to end.
"Wow-" you puff out a breath of air after the best kiss of your life. "A great cook and an even better kisser-- What can't you do?" For the first time, Jungkook's cheeks tint a rosy shade of pink but there's no time to respond as he hears Ryan complain.
"Daddy, I'm tired." You see his little head pop up from behind the couch with a bedhead of hair as he rubs his eye. "Yeah? You wanna get ready for bed little man? Come on let's go." Jungkook urges, turning to you with apologetic eyes, "I'll be right back, keep an eye on the pie for me?" You smile and nod.
Watching him disappear down the hall almost in a trace. A trance that was interrupted by the ceaseless buzzing of his phone. Buzz after Buzz after Buzz.
You shouldn't.
But the buzzing wouldn't stop.
What if it was an emergency?
You peeked at the screen.
Hana
-Where are you?
-I can't stop thinking about our night together.
-Pick up, I want to talk to you.
-When will I see you again? :(
Your stomach twisted, and you were certain it wasn't because of the wine. The oven timer goes off. How comedic. You shake it off, using the oven mitts to place the pie on the stove but ultimately deciding you wouldn't be able to stay any longer.
You didn't want to be the other woman, or the 'main' woman for that matter. You wanted nothing to do with someone who was possibly seeing two people at once.
Quietly you grabbed your things and made your way towards the door. Slipping into your Uggs and slinging your side bag over your shoulder when Jungkook sees you about to leave.
"Wait, Y/n. Where are you going? What's wrong?" Nothing but concern and confusion was written all over his face.
"I had a really great time tonight, Jungkook, Thank you. But I should really get going." Already twisting the door open and stepping through it, letting the frosty air nip at your cheeks and sweep by Jungkook's feet.
"it's dark and it's freezing outside, let me give you a ride." You object, "It's fine, it's only a 15-minute bus. I'll be fine. I'll see you tomorrow."
Like a whirlwind, you spun his world around and by the time he blinked you were gone.
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Thanks for Reading!!
Let me know if you wanted to be added to the taglist <3
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fxirybun · 16 days
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🪷 PAC: your platonic soulmate’s personality
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this is a collective reading ! take what resonates and leave what doesn't. i cannot guarantee 100% accuracy. take the pac reading lightly ჱ̒ ー̀֊ー́ )
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ෆ⸒⸒ pile one 🥀
hello there pile one ! your platonic soulmate is someone who's giving a bad bitch energy and doesn't allow themselves to be taken for granted. whoever this person is i feel that they have a powerful energy within them , it's like if someone wants to bully you your platonic soulmate is more than ready to throw their hands at them lol.
i can see that their tongue is as sharp as a knife , a metaphor for how direct their words are and how others would think that your platonic soulmate is very harsh or domineering. they're outspoken and aren't afraid to voice out their opinions since they believe that their statement holds truth in it.
this person has a confident presence within themselves and i'm getting that they may be into manifestation. it's as if they can turn all their ideas into tangible plans because they have this inner willpower to create those opportunities and they have the right equipment to turn their desires into a reality. due to them having a wide variety of skills , people are jealous of them and would do the means to bring your platonic soulmate down.
this doesn't stop them though 'cause they're the kind of person who seems to thrive in a competitive environment. it allows them to exert more bold effort since your platonic soulmate wants to prove their enemies wrong.
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ෆ⸒⸒ pile two 🪻
hi , pile two ! i'm getting a hint that your platonic soulmate may have gone through a terrible heartbreak in their life and how it brought them a baggage of emotional pain. this experience made them more cautious when letting someone enter their life. regardless of past wounds , they know how to deal with this lingering pain through means of healing. it also allows your platonic soulmate to be wiser and more empathetic.
i feel that they're someone who has a layered personality , similar to an onion. in addition , this person is presumably able to face any havoc that will come their way. they can be both compassionate and courageous simultaneously and how they are being perceived as a source of support for others due to their encouraging words.
they seem to be the kind of person who appreciates forming a mutual connection with others. i sensed that your platonic soulmate is currently in the process of learning to let go of the heaviness that they've been carrying in their back. whoever this person is , they seem to tend to take too many responsibilities that lead them to overcommit.
the good news here is that this person is releasing all this pressure that they're feeling because they're striving to create a balanced life where they are not overwhelmed. they garnered the strength to withstand the mist.
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ෆ⸒⸒ pile three 🦋
hello , pile three ! i can see that your platonic soulmate is someone who just goes with the flow. their personality reminded me of that one student in class who's labeled as the "joker" due to how unhinged or funny their jokes are lmao. they love to spread positivity to the people around them including the environment itself , making them the kind of friend who is fun to be around.
this person is not afraid to explore the unknown just so they can go on board for new experiences , not allowing fear to gain control over them. despite their carefree personality , your platonic soulmate knows how to be serious when it is needed , especially in situations that are not for the fainted heart. this person is aware of balancing their free-spirited nature and their mature side when it comes to confidential matters.
i feel that your platonic soulmate is someone who cares deeply about their loved ones , especially those who are considered dear to them. they have this gentle approach and seem to know how to comfort someone in troubled times. this person is an expert in trying to connect to someone on an emotional level.
i kept hearing the lyrics "you've got a friend in me" from the movie toy story and how it resonates with this reading about your platonic soulmate. you can always rely on them , pile three ! as i'm getting this ride or die , bonnie and clyde , best friends for life dynamic.
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Kinda oddly embarrassed to send this but oh my god your art is so pleasing to look at for some reason
I think it's just the soft shapes you use and how amazingly 3D everything tends to look?? Like the angles and proportions are just so perfect that I find it easy to imagine most of what you draw as a 3D model or something
And like I don't think I could nail it like you (maybe with time!!) But I am definitely taking inspiration from it because it DOES get me thinking about how you use shapes and angles and wonder if I could practice that because oh my god I wish I could absorb your art
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Do you have methods or techniques to make it look so 3D? if you know what I mean? I tend to use grids to try and map out the shapes in a vaguely 3D plane, so I was wondering if you had tips kinda like that to share with the class? or if you're just winging it and it's a lot of practice?
Thank you so much!!! It really means a lot to me when others take inspiration from my art, it reminds me of all the artists I used to look up to and emulate when I was first starting out on MSPaint with a broken trackpad for a pen, you don’t have to be embarrassed! You’ll definitely be able to harness 3D space and create fantastic work, you’re already well on your way! Having passion and a desire to learn will take you far :)
My biggest focus whenever I draw is to make the characters feel real, as though you could reach out and enter the space they’re in to sit next to them on the couch. I’m so glad that I’m able to pull it off! Thanks for the rose, I’ll be sure to cherish it :)
As for my methods and techniques…
Drawing on a 3D grid plane is definitely something I do! Its perfect for comic panels or storyboards, to set the scene and ground characters or props to their environment.
I did a lot of classical study, that is life drawing and still life drawing, but simply using reference for buildings and anatomy also helps a lot and is a lot easier to find. I’d also sketch my hands, plastic animals, and my surroundings, as well as people watch for inspiration for character mannerisms or fashion. It’s useful to know a little bit about the inner workings of anatomy, as there are places were bone makes a person inflexible, while places with more muscle or fat are affected by things like gravity or pressure that change their shape. Drawing a flour sac to act out different emotions is a great way to practice weight and character acting!
Having studied animation, I did a lot of turnarounds to get characters consistent and able to be rotated in 3D space. It can be pretty tedious for some people, but it really does help solidify the characters’ shapes and design, and serves as great reference to look back on if you need it! If you don’t want to do something so stiff as a turnaround, simply drawing expressions and poses from dynamic angles helps too. I’ve found that breaking a character down into basic shapes that are easy to draw in a 3D plane also can help my anatomy and foreshortening be more accurate.
Most importantly, find something that brings you joy to draw! Every “traditional” method of study can be applied to things you like, so don’t feel the need to burn out thinking you can only draw the Mona Lisa or whatever. I’ve done anatomy studies on the Rise turtles to figure out their skeletal structure, and friends of mine have painted some mind blowing concept art inspired by Sonic and D&D!
I hope this helps some? Best of luck, and have fun! :D
Below are a couple of examples of some of my studies:
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vivalabunbun · 2 years
Text
Late Spring Blooms
Summary: Not even one word had been spoken between the two of you
Word Count: 5.1K (this was supposed to be short...)
Tags: Alhaitham x gn! reader, slow burn, fluff, just a lot of fluff, slight angst, Akademiya setting, toxic academia environment, mentions of bullying, both of you are students, mutual pining, when you just stare at your crush for like 4 years but never talked to them. 
Authors note: This was supposed to be a short feel-good fic, but I guess my brain just wanted to be a nerd. So I included some scientific theories that are kinda in debate, I just gave it my best shot. I write fiction not peer reviewed studies please forgive any mistakes
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“A voltage is applied to two electrodes immersed in a solution of heavy water…”
All throughout the lecture hall there were the frantic movements of quills as desperate hands penned down every word that left the lecturer’s mouth. The fluttering of paper as students rushed to continue recording every detail, spurred by the fear of a question on exams yet to be announced. 
Rather than immerse themselves in the lecture, they’d rather save the details for a stressful night before said hypothetical exam. Frankly, it was a waste of time. 
“When the SuperWave Principle is applied, with raising and falling nested oscillations…”
Yes, this is a waste of time. A waste of his time. Alhaitham’s notebook and quill remained untouched on the desk in front of him. This course was nothing more than an elective to him, it had nothing to do with his own darshan. A class his late grandmother had listed in her well wishes to her grandson. However, Alhaitham would much rather prefer to be reading in the House of Daena. 
“And that is the discovery behind cold fusion energy production. This achievement rewarded me with much academic praise and my position as a researcher. As it innovated a new path for clean and unlimited energy. Thank you.” 
Applause erupted in the lecture hall, hands clapping together as forged looks of amazement masked ulterior motives. Alhaitham remained still, bored eyes continuing to observe the scholarly man as he stood at the podium. Even from the ashen-haired student’s perch among the upper seats, he can still see the swell of pride in the elder scholar’s chest. As the sea of green uniforms finally abated their praise, the professor step up to the podium. 
“Are there any questions for our honored guest lecturer?” 
The once bustling mob stilled. No quills moved, no papers rustled, and not a single student dared make eye contact dreading the thought of an unintentional invitation to speak. Of course, this was all expected. After all, which person would dare expose their own shortcomings? 
Each and every person in the room was once praised to be la crème de la crème, the cream of the crop, the valedictorians that spoke prepared speeches to their peers they viewed as mediocre. They were all once the top one percent, showered with empty words such as ‘talented’ and ‘gifted’. However, at the Akademiya, where the best of the best had been vetted and admitted. How can everyone be that ‘one percent’? 
It’s a simple answer. They can’t. Instead of spirits learning humility, they were crushed under the realization of reality. And just like a curious hand that had reached out towards a burning stove, their egos wounded and withdrew. If they cannot stand among the few slots at the top, then they’d rather hide among the ninety-nine percent. Listlessly carried by the flow of life, throwing their hands up to ‘fate’. 
Once again, as Alhaitham’s bored eyes surveyed the room, he is reminded why he had put off attending the Akademiya until recently. It was quite ironic for such an esteemed institution to have such pathetic levels of academic spirit. People didn’t come here to learn, they came here to ‘know’ and for a decorated piece of paper to hang on their walls.
However, on the basis of the last part, Alhaitham saw himself as no different. This was a crucial stepping stone in the preplanned path he laid out for himself. Even if it was tedious, it must be done. 
From the still crowd, one lone hand raised above, peeking out from the sea of green berets. It seems that even the professor didn’t anticipate this as a wrinkled hand gestured for the young budding scholar to speak. 
“I’m amazed by your discovery, sir. However, does it really work? I don’t think I’ve seen a recreation of your experiment.” 
The air in the lecture hall stilled, as hundreds of eyes honed in on the gear that dare squeak. The ego is quite fragile, and there is a positive correlation between the fragility of one's ego and the higher up their position is on the hierarchy. The scowl that formed on the guest’s face was predictable, as his haughty eyes glared at the fresh-faced student. 
“It seems that some people are suffering from selective hearing, or perhaps you just couldn’t grasp the concepts I’ve spent the past two hours explaining.” Offense drip off of every word. 
“But, according to standard practices, an experiment has to be rep-”
“Did the Akademiya just allow anyone in this year? My theory and discovery have already been entered into the akasha. Even a child can see the validity of my research.” The lecturer tapped one finger rapidly against the solid wood of the podium. 
“Still, I beli-”
“Did you not hear me? My research has already been entered into the akasha.” He snapped, the peak of the microphone rang through the air. 
“Sir, I-”
The professor raised his hand to silence the student, putting an end to this sorry excuse of an academic debate. The student’s figure sunk down in their seat, their seat neighbors scooting away as if there was something contagious. The show that had piqued the ashen-haired scholar’s interest had been abruptly halted. What a pity. 
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“Can you believe them? Who would ask such a stupid question?” 
“‘Does it work?’, it’s been entered into the akasha for archon’s sake!”
“If I were them, I’d never show my face again at the Akademiya.”
Mindless gossip made his ears ring as a sigh left his lips, snapping the book closed in his hand. Alhaitham thought it was an unspoken rule that one must be silent in the House of Daena, guess common courtesy isn’t practiced much anymore. Carrying the book in one hand as he swung his bag over his shoulder he exits the library doors. 
His academic journey at the Akademiya had only begun about a month ago with the start of a new semester, but he was already bored. Lectures dragged the same material on for days. Professors gave their unessential anecdotes to slip in their own self-praises, and the busy work they called assignments. 
However, the worst part, for Alhaitham, was how his fellow students and aspiring scholars accepted everything. Sitting there in their seats back straight, hands busy creating a transcript of the entire lesson. Heads politely nodding as if they understood everything even though confusion was clear in their eyes. There were no academic discussions occurring in classes, and there were no attempts to encourage them. 
What’s the point when everyone could just use the akasha for answers? It’s quite depressing to see such a lack of academic spirit.
Alhaitham has decided that he should return back to his own method of self-studying, just as he has done before. He can cut out the unnecessary material and focus on subjects that interest him. Paying the tuition just to learn everything on his own, is truly ironic. 
However, as Alhaitham walks towards the empty pavilion he has to admit he is grateful for the facilities available at the Akademiya. It was a secluded space, quiet and away from chattering groups, students chasing after mentors and professors with half-heartedly written theses, and scholars’ boastful comments on the results of their experiments. Just as he rested his back against a pillar of the pavilion, he heard a muffled whimper. 
Tsk, great, there’s someone here already. Alhaitham readjusted his bag on his shoulder, pushing off the pillar as he began his search once more for undisturbed peace. His teal eyes couldn’t help but wander toward the source of the sound. Sight landing on your crouched figure obscured by the thick trunk of the tree just behind the white structure. For a brief moment, your eyes locked with his, before you jolted your head away from his direction. 
Cheeks stained with tears and face burning with shame. Yes, there is a famous saying that tends to ring true: The nail that stands out will get hammered. He recognizes you as the hand that dare raise a question. 
Everyone at the Akademiya is fueled by their own self-interest, whether it be for greater knowledge, a higher future position at the institution, or to have their name printed on an accredited research project by a renowned scholar.
Weak egos tend to rally under bigger ones, feeding the latter with empty praises in hopes of a return on their investments. If they could find a footing that allows them to climb up the stairs of the hierarchy, then they were willing to step on anyone. 
You just recently have been labeled as such, a stepping stone in order to get closer to a certain researcher. Tearing you down to build the bridges of connection with the reputable graduate. It was low-hanging fruit. How could a naive, freshly admitted student go against a published scholar with wealth and status? 
You were the losing dog in this race. And yet, Alhaitham still wanted to applaud you, if not for your academic spirit then for your courage. However, it is clear from the way you were trying to make yourself as small as possible, you needed your privacy. 
He focused his eyes on the path ahead of him, leaving the secluded space, his lips won’t speak a word of this event. A little further down the path, teal eyes shifted back behind him. Your hands were wiping the tears out of your eyes as you blinked, perplexed by the sudden appearance of a neatly folded green handkerchief. Alhaitham sees it as a fair trade for piquing his bored mind. 
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“Excuse me, do you have a translation of the book: Khaenri'ahan Theory of Nuclear Fusion and Practices?” 
A familiar voice shifted Alhaitham’s attention away from the text he was translating, perhaps his mind took it as an excuse for his eyes to take a break from the barely legible script. You would think with all the funds the Akademiya had, they would be able to provide students with good-quality copies, but the printed assignment in front of him disproves that notion. It’s not good to strain the eyes. 
Once more teal eyes landed on your figure, back straight and head still held up high. You have more courage than Alhaitham originally thought. Despite the mocking sneers that have been thrown your way in the halls, you’ve just faced forward and continued down your way. Currently, you were asking for the assistance of a disinterested librarian. 
She brings one hand up to her akasha terminal, eyes lazily gazing at the information that flowed in front of her. Then after less than two minutes of searching, she stops. 
“No. Never heard of it. It’s not in the system.” 
“It’s an old title, but according to the library catalog, it should-”
“Did you not hear me? I just checked the akasha and it says it’s not here. Maybe you should make use of that terminal collecting dust on your ear before you come wasting my time.” The librarian cut you off rudely. Readjusting the green beret on her brown hair before she turned her back on you.   
The hand you reached out towards her drops to your side, your shoulders slouched a bit. There were now peering eyes focused on you, stressed students viewing your embarrassment and dejection as a welcomed dose of entertainment. Taking a deep breath you quickly made your way back in the direction of the dusty library catalog. Determined to find that book. 
The librarian had stated a blatant lie, how does Alhaitham know? The book Khaenri'ahan Theory of Nuclear Fusion and Practices was right under his resting elbow.
You were right, it is an old book, so old that it seems that someone had forgotten to input it into the updated database of the akasha. Or maybe someone removed it, deeming it no longer academically relevant. His elbow was now resting on the book he had just finished hours earlier, it was a better use of his time than attending mindless lectures. 
You seemed busy flipping through the pages of the library catalog, and the script in front of him is due tomorrow. He’ll finish his assignment, it's the least he could do to just ensure his passing of a class that hasn’t seen his face for some time now. 
It was late now, your eyes were beginning to droop head nodding back and forth. You shook your head, desperately trying to fight off sleep, eyes peeled on the text in front of you. Your attempts to find the book had been fruitless, but you were able to find different academic journals that substituted the same subject.
You didn’t need sleep, you needed to satisfy that itching feeling inside your mind. That inkling that what that lecturer had said was… the words in front of you blurred. 
Maybe a quick nap would help boost your productivity. 
Your eyes snapped open as your body jolted up. How long were you asleep? Your eyes surveyed the library. All around you were either passed out fellow students at their seats, or those running on nothing but caffeine and stress frantically pressing their noses against the books and papers in front of them. There were fewer people here than before you shut your eyes, signaling to you that it has gotten later. 
Your lips pressed into a tight line, did you just lose more precious time? The thought of assignment due dates was pressing against the back of your mind. But you just had to get to the bottom of this, it just doesn’t make sense to you- 
Your eyes widened at what had appeared in front of your seat. Khaenri'ahan Theory of Nuclear Fusion and Practices. But how? You had looked high and low, even breaking library regulations by climbing on the tall ladders to search the very tops.
Your head whipped around, searching for an explanation. Your eyes were just able to catch the slightest glimpse of a familiar shade of grey and green exiting the grand doors of the House of Daena. 
There was a small note on top of the book. 
I had the book you were looking for. There’s a diagram that wasn’t translated properly. On page 520, the diagram says: ‘maintaining temperatures of over 100 million degrees are necessary while regulating pressure and magnetic forces at the same time. These conditions are for stable confinement of the plasma and to maintain the fusion reaction long enough to produce more energy than what was required to start the reaction.’ Hope this helps. 
It was silly really, or maybe your tired mind was just getting sentimental, but your sight began to blur again. Not with sleep this time, your eyes were overflowing with tears. This small note, the neat handwriting, the book you had been searching for.
They were the sweet hands of reassurance you needed on your shoulder. Smiling like an idiot through your tears, you hid your face behind the small note. 
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“How long exactly are they going to continue to deny the facts? Jeez, I wish I had their simple mind sometimes.”
“Yeah, it must be nice to have your head buried in the rabbit hole of ignorance.” 
It was now a new year, a fresh semester had long begun, but unfortunately, reputation and stigma don’t have a simple shelf life of just a year. Once more, Alhaitham found that silence in the House of Daena is not seen as a requirement by some students. Mindless gossip had no place in a sanctuary of high academia, but it looks like his opinion isn’t shared. 
Alhaitham had woken up later than he would’ve liked, meaning he didn’t have time to pick up any coffee if he wanted to get to his test on time. After he had finished, he made an effort to get to the café as fast as he could. But when he got there, he saw a sign announcing the café was closed for the day.
In short, Alhaitham was having a bad day, the grating voices that continued to chatter beside him were only fraying his thinning patience even more. 
Frustrated, his eyes followed their line of sight, to see just what subject was so pressing they had to gossip in a place of study and silence. They lead him to your figure, hunched over a thick book, one finger tracing each sentence line by line and the other detailing notes.
Even with the stacks of books that surrounded your desk blocking some of your frame, he could see your face clearly. Although you were trying to maintain a neutral expression, he caught onto the small quivering of your lips. 
“Like the information is already in the akasha, do they think they’re smarter than the combined knowledge of all of Sumeru?” 
“Yeah, well it’s always the stupidest people that speak the loudest-”
“You two are quite loud.” 
The students that sat beside him snapped their attention towards the man who had returned his eyes back to his book. 
“Excuse me?” 
“This is the House of Daena, the largest library in all of Teyvat, and you’re being loud. Maybe you should immerse yourselves in some books, for the academic spirit.” 
“Jeez, we weren’t even that loud, and the akasha-”
“What poor academic spirit. If the akasha was all you needed, then you are no better than any passing stranger on the streets. Why did you even bother with the entrance exam?” 
It wasn’t like Alhaitham to engage in such unnecessary conversation, nor make any excess problems for himself by getting in the bad graces of strangers. However, he was already having a bad day. 
The two friends sneered at him, before getting up and leaving the library. Finally, he can enjoy some silence. He could feel your gaze on him, but he didn’t look up to see the soft stare of amazement and gratitude you were sending his way. 
Alhaitham had gotten up briefly to browse the shelves once again. He had finished his book and am now looking for another to pique his interest. Really, the akasha couldn’t hold the vast amount of unspoken knowledge that books had.
The blunt facts and figures the terminal provided didn’t stimulate his mind the way shifting through the lines and characters printed on books did. It was truly a pity that the nation of wisdom didn’t appreciate the pinnacle vessel of information. 
When he had returned to his desk, teal eyes took note of the small square of baklava placed gently on a napkin. Beside it was the green handkerchief, neatly folded. Alhaitham had already gotten a replacement for said item.
Yet seeing how pristine the fabric was even after a year of not seeing it, sentiment crept up on him. 
“Excuse me. Food is not allowed in the House of Daena. I’m going to ask you to leave.” 
Ah, of course. Alhaitham was having a bad day today. 
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It’s been a long month. With Summer break quickly approaching, it meant that assignments and exams have been crammed by every professor into a short window. Their long tangents must have caught up to them, as they were now pushing the responsibility of tying up the loose ends onto the students. Pathetic really. 
Still, the weather today was clear and the air warm. The bright sun was being blocked out by the thick foliage present on the branches of the tree Alhaitham rested his body against. He had spent the morning finishing all his most pressing assignments. A break was deserved. 
The soft rustle of leaves as the wind sway their branches were starting to lull the young man to sleep. But the sudden sound of grass getting flattened under shoes snatched that pleasure away. 
Tsk, it doesn’t matter. If he leaves his eyes shut and breaths steady then the other person will sooner or later leave him alone. The steps approached a bit closer then stopped just a bit away. He could hear the rustling of a paper bag and another object getting placed near his side.
As quietly as they could, the footsteps trotted away in a hurry. Once he felt that presence disappear, he lifted his eyelids. 
Beside him there was a brown paper bag, the mouth-watering scent of a shawarma wrap wafted into his nose. And the other object? A cup of hot coffee with a small note taped to it. 
I’m so so so sorry for getting you in trouble that time in the House of Daena! Please take this as an apology! I got the most popular combination at the shop. Please take care of yourself and good luck with your exams!
P.S. I just wanted to apologize again for getting you in trouble!!
Alhaitham could practically hear the sheer panic and anxiety from the piece of paper. Still, his eyes couldn’t help but soften. He was never the type to hold on to pointless grudges, there was no need for you to agonize over such a minuscule event. 
Contradicting his original plans for a nap, he took a sip of the hot coffee. It must be a different blend of coffee beans or a new experimental brewing method, the plain black coffee tasted pleasantly sweet on his tongue. 
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“Did you hear? I can’t believe it.”
“Yeah, he was a fraudster! I heard he got stripped of his title and even his diploma got rescinded!”  
“I… I can’t believe they were right all along.” 
In the middle of Alhaitham’s third year at the Akademiya, the unfathomable happened. A young student that had yet to even graduate, a mere third year in the middle of their studies, had disproven an accepted theory. A theory that had gone through vetting by the top review boards, and even entered into the akasha. 
After years of long nights and shifting through books long forgotten by scholars, you brought all your evidence and conclusions to the Akademiya review board. 
You wagered your entire academic carrier. 
Your gamble paid out in full. Your findings were significant enough that the board called for an investigation, for another independent experiment of cold fusion to be replicated. A team of other esteemed researchers was established.
They followed every strict protocol for peer review, following each and every document step by the once haughty researcher to his experiment and theory to the highest standard of academic rigor. 
Their conclusion after a four-month trial? Failed experiment after failed experiment to replicate his results? There was no cold fusion. 
This caught the attention of the Matra. For all these years where did those experimental results come from? If his research funds were not going toward creating a better and more effective method of using cold fusion to generate unlimited energy. Then where was it? Their findings? 
Back into the pockets of a few seats on the review board. Funds somehow found themselves in the hands of scholars that had ‘peer reviewed’ his theory the first time around. 
A report from the previously mentioned independent review team detailed his offer of exorbitant amounts of mora for skewed results. That was the final nail in the coffin of his academic carrier. 
It was a great loss of face for the higher-ups and for their esteemed institution. They had let fraudulent nonsense enter the akasha, they allowed this nonsense to poison the minds of civilians and students. Punishment was swift. The higher up on the hierarchy of ego you were, the more crushing the fall will be. 
Now it was he, the lecturer who had ridiculed you with his eager followers for years, who was ostracized from higher academia. 
Alhaitham’s eyes followed the noisy crowd as they congregated around your frame. First years watching you with stars in their eyes, questions were thrown your way, asking just how you did it. How did you know? Your eyes light up the same way, as you detailed your research process of debunking that theory. 
Overnight, you became a star at the Akademiya. The same people who had once sneered at you were now trying to push their way through the crowd to get your attention. The professors that once viewed you as their most hopeless student, were now asking you to become their mentee. You treated everyone the same without any reservations. Smile beaming as you answered their questions. 
“Well, even though I have disproven his theory on cold fusion. I still think it’s an interesting path to explore. Maybe we were just led astray by a red herring. However, I think the most important lesson to gain from this controversy is that every theory should be viewed with some level of skepticism. Until you see the theory actually be put into practice, how will you ever confirm for yourself.” 
You have a really radiant smile, Alhaitham notes. It suits you.
 It’s too noisy in the halls of the Akademiya. He turns to walk away. Missing the way your searching eyes followed him, lips parted wanting to call out to him. Only to be drowned by the shower of empty words of praise. 
“You’re such a gifted student!”
“Wow! I wish I was as talented as you!”
“You’re just a genius!” 
Words that dismissed your years of sleepless nights, tearful breakdowns from pressure, and aching wrists from penning down pages upon pages of notes. 
Ah, the Akademiya was still the Akademiya. Even your breakthrough that shook the institution isn’t enough to spark a change in the environment that had been solidified in the marble of the building. Your eyes still followed this tall figure even after he disappeared from your line of sight. 
Yes, there still was a gust of fresh air that blew through this stale toxicity. You only knew his name… does he even know yours?
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It’s finally over, the tedious task of attending the Akademiya has been completed. 
Alhaitham can now check that achievement off his list. The collaborative project he had been a part of might have fallen through. But the findings it produced in its short lifespan were fruitful. So much so that it granted Alhaitham a position as a Scribe and a sizable house in the city. More currently, it allowed Alhaitham to meet the last requirement for graduation. 
The diploma he holds in his hands right now was the result of his diligence, of just passing every exam with the highest marks despite not attending the class after the first day. Yes, this is the piece of paper he had ‘worked’ so hard for. 
All around him, there were families hugging, crying, and congratulating their sons and daughters, sisters and brothers, for graduating. Promises of big feasts prepared at home, or for a celebration in the neighborhood. Friends hugged each other as they said their tearful goodbyes. 
Alhaitham stood alone. 
From the very start, he was a loner, he knew this and he liked it this way. So why does his chest feel a bit heavy? The path that he had preplanned had no obstacles lining the way, every piece fell where it should have. Alhaitham already knows the answer, but he doesn’t want to admit it. 
Joyous occasions can really bring out the most isolating sentiments when there was no one to celebrate with. But that is fine, he’s got boxes of books to pack anyways. 
“Um… Excuse me, Alhaitham?” 
A voice halts the ashen-haired man’s step. Teal-orange eyes landed their sights on yours. You were dressed in your graduation robes as well, and a decorated cord hung around your shoulders. Signifying your academic accomplishments during your years as a student. Despite the nervousness in your voice, hands fidgeting with the brown paper bag clutched between them, your eyes looked straight into his. 
“T-this is for you. It’s a pita pocket from Lambard’s tavern. I… I just wanted to thank you for, well, all you’ve done. I-i know we actually haven’t spoken a word to each other these past few years but- but…” You paused, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. 
“Your gestures of kindness and empathy really kept me going. Even during the times when I wanted to give up, your actions really meant a lot to me. So, thank you Alhaitham.” Your eyes were staring back at him with pure sincerity. 
The warm late Spring air blew across your faces, tussling his locks as his eyes shifted from the pita pocket in your hands back to your eyes. The slight quivering of your lips signaled to him the anxious wait for his response. 
“Now’s not the place to eat.”
“O-oh…” The bag in your hands lowered. 
“However, I believe if you were to accompany me to Lambad’s Tavern, I don’t think he’ll deny a paying customer a seat. So, how about it?” The boxes at home could wait. 
“Oh?” You looked at him a bit perplexed at the sudden invitation. But it wasn’t long before a beaming smile broke out on your face. 
“Yes, I would love to!” 
It could have been due to the sweet air, or due to the lustrous look that dawned on your face, but Alhaitham felt that he could breathe easier now. 
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It was a sunny afternoon, the perfect weather to do nothing at all. His justification for leaving his desk, piled high with new proposals and applications. Without even looking up from his book Alhaitham could sense the presence approaching his direction. His free hand reached up to turn off noise canceling, there was only one person who would come to find him at this secluded pavilion. 
“Haitham! I got us lunch from Lambad’s Tavern, the special was pita pockets today!” You held a brown takeout bag over your head, one hand cupping your mouth as you called out to him. 
His expression couldn’t help but soften, seeing your figure rapidly closing the distance between the both of you. Your preppy steps stopped just in front of the tall scholar, a small smile gracing your lips as you hid the bag behind your back. Eyes looking at him with anticipation as your back straightened. 
Alhaitham closed his eyes as a soft sigh left his lips, snapping the book in his hands closed as his back pushed off the pillar. Taking a few slow steps to fully close the distance. Gentle fingers cupped your cheek as he leaned down to place a tender kiss just below your eye. He can feel you getting on the tips of your toes, pressing your face more into his lips, he knows you can feel the small smile against your cheek. 
Pulling his face back, thumb still brushing against your other cheek, his teal eyes observed your smile that rivaled the sun.   
“Thank you for the payment, now let’s eat before the lettuce gets all soggy.” You pressed a kiss against his palm. The brown bag reappears from behind you. 
“Yes, of course.” He wanted to observe your face for a little while longer.
Perhaps you should start researching the energy that radiates off your smile, Alhaitham is willing to wager that this hypothesis holds more water than any dismissed notions of cold fusion. 
Fin~
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tainsan · 1 year
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misfits VIII
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⇥ pairing: ot8 ateez x fem! reader
⇥ warnings: verbal and physical abuse, anxiety, mentions of death, mentions of blood
⇥ word count: 11.1k
⇥ a/n: in this chapter it may be very triggering to those who have gone through abusive situations, please read with care. this chapter is very angsty.
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--- THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ---
“Wait backtrack, you have known them for years?” Jisung questions, extremely confused by the story you are telling him. Jisung's touch on your back provides a faint sense of comfort amidst the storm of emotions that engulfs you. His hand moves in a soothing rhythm, gliding up and down your trembling spine. The sobs that wrack your body become a symphony of sorrow, echoing through the air, and intertwining with Jisung's soft touch. With each tremor that courses through you, he maintains a steady presence, a steady anchor in the midst of your emotional storm. His touch speaks volumes, conveying a depth of understanding and empathy that words could never fully capture.
Sniffling, you answer, “Yes, they were that group I was with in high school, the ones who I got friendly with just before my mom died,” you explain, best you can with tears falling down your face and your voice shaking in your throat.
“Huh? You said they died?” Jisung asks, confused by the sudden confession from you, your words not making sense in his head that the eight you used to love were alive.
“I knew it wasn’t true.” 
“But if the police said they died, then surely it would be true?” 
“I never heard it from the police, I heard it from a guy who claimed to be a family member of ‘captain’. Who is apparently Hongjoong, I guess? It never made any sense, there was no proof, only this stranger’s word.”
“That makes more sense,” Jisung admits, nodding at the information before he realises something, “that’s likely why they changed their name from KQ Fellaz and ‘faked’ their death, so they could have a fresh start.”
“I suppose so, they wanted to start anew,” you conclude, trying to find any excuse or reason for them to have lied to you.
“That’s probably why they didn't tell you then.” Jisung raises his hand to rest on your head, patting it gently in an attempt to comfort you, yet all it does is remind you of all the times Wooyoung or San would do it to you, making your eyes sting even more than before.
“But why would they hide from me? I was their friend, they said I was one of them. How could they lie to me?” 
“I am sure they had their reasons. You likely weren’t that close to them back then.” 
As your gaze meets Jisung's, a profound realisation settles within you. In order for him to truly grasp the gravity of the situation and provide the support you need; you understand that it is necessary to lay bare the entirety of your journey. With a resolute breath, you begin recounting everything, from the very first moment you crossed paths with them to the heart-wrenching instant when they departed from your life. Every memory, every cherished moment, to the painful goodbye.
It all began in the middle of your Senior year in high school.
-
“Okay, class please pay attention we have a new student.” Your homeroom teacher announces, yet you pay zero interest to the familiar lady talking at the front of the classroom, simply continuing to draw in the sketch book you brought from home. 
Immersed in the classroom setting, you find peace and concentration with a single wired headphone nestled in your ear. As the sounds of commotion and chatter from your surroundings gradually fade away, your attention becomes laser-focused on the small details of your immediate environment. The rhythmic strokes of your pencil on paper create a soothing melody, harmonising with the gentle hum of music seeping into your left ear, creating a personalised soundtrack to your inner world.
Positioned near the back of the classroom, you find yourself beside an open window, inviting the outside world to merge with you. The autumn breeze delicately sweeps through the window, gracefully brushing against your skin and delicately tousling your hair. The serene atmosphere in the air instils a deep sense of tranquillity, infusing your being with an irrefutable sense of ease and contentment.
Momentarily shifting your gaze outside, you are captivated by the sight before you. The warm wind, with its tender touch, continues to playfully tickle your face as if inviting you to fully embrace the present moment. Inhaling deeply, you fill your lungs with the crisp and refreshing scent of fall, a refreshing reminder of the beauty and change that accompanies this season. 
“Could I sit here, please?” a soft voice speaks out from your right, if you were even an inch to the left, you would have not heard the boy, who seems to be looking at the chair on which your bag resides. Locking your gaze upon the boy standing before you, a flicker of realisation dawns upon you, and you mentally berate yourself for your sluggishness in comprehending his inquiry. A rush of frustration washes over you as you silently curse your own slowness, your mind now grasping the meaning behind his words. With a mere nod, you hastily seize the bag lying on the nearby surface and hastily tuck it away beneath your own chair, your movements reflecting your urgency. Turning your attention back to your sketchbook, you purposefully avoid glancing at the boy who wordlessly settles into the seat beside you.
Despite the absence of spoken words, you sense an adamant intensity radiating from the boy to your left. Internally, you let out a groan, fully aware that you must address this unfamiliar stranger and request that he mind his business. Tentatively, you direct your gaze towards him, annoyed you have to speak despite, yet before you can utter a single syllable, you are captivated by the sight that unfolds before you.
The boy's face beams with an adorable smile that engulfs his entire face, rendering you momentarily speechless. This unexpected display of pure charm effectively silences your intended retort, leaving your lips tightly sealed.
“I like your drawing.” His voice is incredibly soft and serene, yet the smile on his face speaks thousands of more words. The boy's unexpected compliment catches you off guard, causing a rush of warmth to surge through your cheeks, the telltale sign of an invading blush spreading down your neck. Your expression betrays a mixture of bewilderment and surprise, as you struggle to process this unfamiliar gesture of kindness. In that brief moment, you find yourself momentarily taken aback, incredulous that such a genuinely kind individual exists within the confines of this school.
Observing the boy attentively, you notice a complete lack of any hint of teasing or mockery behind his eyes, further deepening your astonishment. A flicker of uncertainty twinkles within you as you realise that he is carefully examining the paper before you, his gaze fixated on the meticulously crafted sketch of the mesmerising person you encountered during your morning journey to the classroom. A momentary sense of insecurity flits through your mind, as you worry that he will spot every small detail and flaw etched within the artwork. Left momentarily speechless, you can only offer another nod in response, silently conveying your gratitude without the need for words. Exhaustion from the past few days weighs heavily upon you, especially the funeral, leaves you unable to form words. You aren’t sure if it’s from the grief or the exhaustion. 
Returning your focus to the sanctuary of your sketchbook, you resume the gentle strokes of your pencil upon the textured paper, desperately trying to capture and preserve the exact essence of the enigmatic person you encountered earlier. Each deliberate movement of your hand serves as an attempt to etch their features into your memory, ensuring that no captivating detail eludes your artistic rendition.
“I’m, uh… Hwa, by the way, it’s nice to meet you.” The boy called ‘Hwa’ speaks out, his voice is still quiet and you’re somewhat glad that he’s so soft-spoken, not wanting to deal with loud and obnoxious people right now. Once more, your eyes drift towards the right, where the boy sits with an endearing smile that effortlessly melts a fragment of your heart. Despite the warmth elicited by his expression, you find yourself limited to another nod as your sole means of communication. This time, your gesture conveys a silent acknowledgement, silently reciprocating his unspoken sentiment of "nice to meet you too." Without delay, you pivot back to your artwork, realising that this marks the third time you have redirected your attention in the span of a mere five minutes.
Hwa, perceptive in nature, detects your unwillingness to engage in conversation and graciously accepts your silent response. His smile remains untouched as he shifts his focus towards the front of the classroom, where your teacher begins recounting events from your weekend. While he respects your preference for silence, a sense of curiosity lingers within him, compelling him to wonder why someone as captivatingly beautiful as you would choose to remain in the shadows of social isolation.
From that crucial moment onward, it became apparent that Hwa had undertaken some sort of personal mission to forge a friendship with you. Each morning, he would approach you, eager to share anecdotes about his day, all about his close circle of seven friends, and his positive experiences in the new school. Puzzled by his unwavering interest in your life, you couldn't fathom why he found you intriguing, and it began to grate on your nerves. Despite your initial annoyance, you gradually learned that he had recently relocated from his father's home and was now residing with his mother, who he seems to prefer much more than his old man. He would go on and on about how his father was a horrible man, someone who he is very glad to not have in his life. From this information, you find yourself relating to Hwa and you almost feel grateful for his honesty and for the way he trusts you to relay this information. 
As days turned into weeks, then months, Hwa's relentless efforts to elicit conversation and draw you out of your shell continued persistently. Initially, his persistence irritated you, but over time, his endearing gestures and genuinely kind manner began to chip away at your defences. Though your interactions remained devoid of spoken words, you found yourself gradually warming up to him, unable to resist the charm of his sweet antics. Each day, you maintained your steadfast silence, wordlessly lending an ear to his stories and offering the occasional nod to assure him of your attentive presence.
Hwa, driven by an unquenchable desire to hear your voice and witness your active participation in conversations, incessantly peppered you with questions. He longed for the day when your voice would join him in harmonious dialogue, surpassing the limitations of mere nods and smiles.
On a particular day, the sun begins its descent towards the horizon as you make your way home from school, the hour growing later than usual. A detour had become necessary as you sought out one of your teachers, embarking on a conversation regarding an assignment that you had fallen behind on. This particular instructor, well-informed about your personal home situation, swiftly understood the situation and granted you some much-needed leeway, even extending the offer of utilising an empty classroom for writing, while she occupied herself with grading tests. This teacher you trusted fully, her being the only person you speak with verbally. She understands why you are fewer with your words, not prying you ever.  Grateful for the understanding and opportunity, you had seized the chance to make much-needed progress on your assignment.
As you traverse the familiar path home, the ambient noise of your surroundings blends with the music resonating through your headphones, enveloping you in a cocoon of sound. Engrossed in your auditory world, a distant voice manages to penetrate the barrier, capturing your attention. Swiftly turning your head, you catch sight of Hwa, jogging towards you with an infectious smile illuminating his face. The sun, in its gradual inclination, casts a warm glow upon his features, accentuating his sincere enthusiasm as he closes the distance between you. 
“___.” He yells, excited to see you outside of school. When he reaches you, he is panting slightly and you realise he must have sprinted pretty far to catch up with you. Giving him a confused look, you wonder why he is near this area, never have seen him come this way before. Luckily, after months, Hwa has become accustomed to your familiar actions and wordless antics, being able to recognise what your different movements and expressions indicate. Your feelings for the man have developed immensely and you find yourself becoming extremely fond of the guy. Plus, it doesn’t help that the more you get to know him, the more you realise how handsome he is. 
“What are you doing here?” Hwa questions, walking next to you as you continue to head towards your house. 
“Going home.” You mutter your voice nothing above a whisper, you are shocked yourself by the words coming out of your mouth. You suddenly wonder why it is that you can suddenly speak freely around Hwa. 
Immediately, Hwa’s eyes open hugely upon hearing you talk for the first time, he stops walking next to you, his mouth hanging wide open widely. Looking back at him, you giggle at his dramatic reaction, before speaking again.
“What?’’ You say, your body turning fully towards him, walking backwards, and scanning over his every reaction.
Quickly, the male bounds towards you, the smile resuming as he makes his way to you, almost jumping up and down with excitement.
“So, what did I do to deserve the ___ to finally speak to me,” Hwa asks, his voice giddy as he skips next to you. 
“I don’t know, I feel safe around you...” You admit, trailing off and becoming slightly insecure about the way your voice sounds. Hwa seems to notice the turmoil of thoughts running through your head and instantly pauses your walking by grabbing your hand lightly, pulling you to look up at his warm eyes.
“You have a nice voice, please keep on speaking.” His voice is soft and peaceful, like usual, but at this moment, it sounds like music to your ears. Feeling your cheeks getting warm, you turn to look away, continuing your walk home. The both of you turn back to moving forwards and you realise you didn’t reciprocate the question Hwa had asked.
“Why are you here?” You ask, curious as to why Hwa would be in this area, never having seen him before around here.
“Ah, I’m seeing my friends, we are meeting at that abandoned warehouse just around the corner from here. Don’t tell anyone, it’s our secret hideout.” The male explains a small chuckle leaving his throat as he turns to you to put out his pinkie finger. Confused, you look up at him, wondering why he is pointing his pinkie finger at you.
“Pinkie promise that you won’t tell anyone.” For a moment he looks incredibly serious, and you wonder as to why he is so stern about the hideout of his friends. It makes you feel soft that here, an eighteen-year-old boy is so seriously making you pinkie promise something. The innocence of the action has you smiling widely, your heart melting.
“Okay, okay.” You reluctantly say, linking your pinkie with his, the both of you letting out gentle laughs. It is quiet for a while as the two of you continue on your way to your separate destinations when Hwa suddenly asks you a question.
“Would you perhaps like to come with me?” The tall male asks, hoping to spend some time with you outside of school, especially since now you are finally fully conversing with him.
Glancing at the watch on your wrist, you worry as to what would happen if you don’t show up on time home, worrying as to how your father would react. However, you realise tonight he should be out with some of his friends, drinking and knowing he will be out until the early hours of the morning. Today, it seems as if luck is in your favour. Not having any friends, it seems somewhat beautiful that Hwa invited you along to hang out with his friend group. From what you have heard from him, the group is very close and doesn’t usually spend time with outsiders. Yet at the same time, you have heard about how kind and fun they are, which makes it extremely easy to decide.
“I’d love that.” 
So, you met the rest of the boys, and it was almost alien how quickly you hit it off with all of them.
“So, you must be the pretty girl who never speaks.” A cute boy with light purple hair speaks out and you suddenly feel extremely self-conscious as you realise Hwa has talked about you to his friends, even calling you pretty. Feeling your body start to get hot, Hwa places a hand on your shoulder in an effort to let you know that it’s okay and his friend is just teasing. 
A jolt of surprise courses through you as your eyes land on a face that feels oddly familiar, instantly triggering a spark of recognition. It dawns on you that this is the very same male figure you had been sketching on the day you first encountered Hwa. A wave of embarrassment washes over you as the realisation hits home, leaving you acutely aware that Hwa must have noticed you discreetly capturing his friend's portrait. Yet, to your immense relief, Hwa remains tight-lipped about the situation, his mischievous wink the only acknowledgement he offers in response to your stunned expression upon seeing the familiar face.
As you meet each friend individually, a remarkable sense of astonishment washes over you when you realise how effortlessly you connect with the boys. It's as if you're engaging in conversations with Hwa himself, the connection and company flowing naturally between you. Overwhelmed by the sheer number of new acquaintances, you find comfort in only observing their banter, occasionally opting for quiet observation rather than actively participating in the verbal exchange. 
Watching them interact and revel in their shared friendship fills you with inexplicable joy, for it is a feeling you had longed for—an authentic sense of belonging among friends. The ease with which you seamlessly fit into their circle surprises you, and it's not ignored by boys either, they immediately grow fond of you. They sense the immediate connection, as if destiny had intended for you to be a part of their lives all along. 
This remarkable harmony that you effortlessly slot into makes it a natural progression for the boys to invite you to join them in their hangouts. The invitation comes easily as if it were given that you should be included, reinforcing the notion that you have found a place among them—a group of friends who accept and appreciate you just as you are.
There is a pure glow from each of them, yet you notice the blank, pained expressions and feelings on their faces, and it feels as if you are looking in the mirror and it is as if they can understand and relate deeply to who you are without needing to utter a single word.
Many days after this you find yourself spending more and more time with the group, finding yourself loving each of them the way you have grown to love Hwa. Turning up the music and dancing was your favourite part of your hangouts, watching as they all chanted to songs and moved to the beat. It made you feel some sense of belonging, something you haven’t felt in a very long time. Writing and singing to songs was one of the very things you loved most about the hang outs, every time they start a verse having to say the words “fix on”, or finishing it with “passion, young, fever”. The very words starting to feel as if they are engraved in your mind. 
One peculiar aspect that strikes you is the fact that none of the boys have ever shared their actual names with you. Instead, they refer to each other solely by their unique and endearing nicknames. Yet, strangely enough, this detail doesn't bother you in the slightest. The absence of birth names becomes inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. What truly matters is the profound contentment you feel, having finally discovered a group of individuals with whom you can fully be yourself with. 
In their presence, you experience a rare sense of comfort, as if you've known them for a lifetime. Walls crumble, masks fade away, and you can simply exist as your authentic self. The love and acceptance that enters the air create a seemingly unbreakable bond. The absence of formal introductions and conventional names becomes a trivial detail, dwarfed by the depth of connection and genuine affection that binds you together. As your relationships with each of the boys deepened, an unexpected shift occurred within your heart, surpassing the boundaries of familial affection, and evolving into a profound form of liking. You were well aware of the impropriety of harbouring such feelings for all eight of them, understanding that it was highly unlikely any of them reciprocated those same emotions. Yet, you couldn't help but acknowledge that your heart seemed to act independently, beyond the constraints of reason.
What made matters even more complex was the knowledge that two of the boys were nursing shattered hearts, their pain etched deeply upon their souls due to a girl you had never met and who, in all likelihood, you had no chance against. The stories that circulated among the group painted a picture of a messy and agonising heartbreak that had left them both broken in its wake. Despite the overwhelming depth of your feelings for them, you made a conscious decision to suppress your own desires, opting instead to provide solace and support as they navigated their heartache. Every time you witnessed their tears, mourning over the faceless girl who had captivated their hearts, an ache resonated within your own chest. It was an ache born from unrequited emotions, an emotional reminder of the distance that separated you from the love they sought. Nonetheless, you steeled yourself, pushing those yearnings aside, focusing on being the shoulder to lean on, the one who offered unwavering support and understanding during their darkest hours. It was a choice fuelled by selflessness and a desire to ease their suffering, even if it meant struggling with your own unspoken longing.
-
The warehouse was an unusual sanctuary for you, a place of solitude amidst the hustle and bustle of daily life. With its towering shelves of empty boxes and the faint scent of cardboard, rust and moss, it offered a kind of comfort you couldn't find elsewhere. It was where you escaped to when you needed a break from the world.
Today, you arrived early, finishing school ahead of schedule due to a teacher falling ill. Alone in the vast expanse of the warehouse, you found peace in the quiet, engrossed in the pages of a book. The soft rustling of paper and the distant hum of the outside world being the only noise surrounding you. 
As you turned another page, lost in the world of words, a sudden, screeching noise sliced through the calm. Startled, you look up just in time to see the massive metal door at the far end of the warehouse creaking open, a thin beam of sunlight piercing the dim interior.
The sudden blast of light makes you squint, shielding your eyes with one hand as you try to discern who or what had interrupted your solitude. Your heart raced slightly, a mix of curiosity and caution welling within you. The warehouse wasn't a frequented place, and the unexpected visitor had piqued your interest.
Slowly, you closed your book and set it aside, rising from your makeshift reading spot. As your eyes adjusted to the newfound brightness, you made out the silhouette of a person framed by the open door.
Recognition washed over you like a gentle wave, replacing your initial unease with a sense of relief and surprise. The person at the door was someone you hadn't expected to see in this unlikely place.
“Oh sorry ___, I wasn’t expecting you to be here.” Yeo’s voice reaches your ears and you see his cute face pop around the corner as your eyes get used to the sudden flash. 
“Tiny is here?” The man you know as Woo follows behind Yeo with a wide smile on his face. 
“What are you doing here so early?” He jumps up to you and lays on the couch, nuzzling his head onto your lap, the action sending a rush of butterflies into your body. 
“I finished early, sorry for not letting you guys know I was coming.” You apologise, feeling bashful for intruding in their personal space without their knowledge. 
“It’s okay, you are always welcome here.” Yeo smiles as he says quietly and makes his way over to you and Woo on the couch.
Smiling back at him, you observe as he pushes Woo’s legs to the side before sitting at the other end of the couch. 
“So what are you doing here?” Woo asked from underneath you. 
“Oh I just needed some peace to read my book, this is the only place I actually feel calm.” 
“I also have that.” Yeo exclaims, a bigger smile on his face, “when we are here it feels like the outside world doesn’t even matter.” 
“Exactly.” You smile at him, his relatable statement causing your chest to swell for some odd reason.
“I’m going to sleep, school was far too much today.” Woo's announcement about his exhaustion draws a soft giggle from you, a gentle sound that fills the room with a sense of warmth. He snuggles further into your lap, seeking comfort after a long day. His actions create an intimate moment that's both endearing and heartwarming.
The soft giggle that escapes your throat is like music to the ears of the two men beside you.
“Where do you guys go to school? I’ve never seen you at mine.” 
“Oh we go to the one just around the corner, only Hwa goes to your school.”
“I see.”
Gazing down at Woo nestled in your lap, a fond smile graces your lips. Your feelings for him have also grown deep, and his flirtatious nature has become both endearing and exhilarating, adding a touch of excitement to your interactions. His playful personality has woven a unique bond between you, one that's filled with affection and a sense of familiarity.
With a tender touch, you reach out to brush a stray strand of hair from Woo's face, your fingers gentle and caring. The small gesture elicits a soft grin from him, a silent acknowledgment that your action made him feel delighted.
Turning your attention to Yeo, you find yourself captivated by the subtle details that make him unique. His gaze, focused on the two of you together, holds a certain warmth and depth. 
Yeo and yourself engage in a quiet conversation, and you find yourself relishing this rare opportunity to connect with him on a personal level. In the larger group, he often keeps to himself, a quiet presence in the midst of the lively discussions. It's exciting to finally have a one-on-one conversation with him, a chance to peel back the layers and get to know the person behind the reserved exterior.
The hour or so that you spend chatting is a revelation. You discover a shared interest in books, a passion that he's clearly enthusiastic about. Yeo's eyes light up as he shares recommendations from his personal reading choices, and you're captivated by the depth of his knowledge and his love for literature.
As the conversation flows, you delve into the world of books, exchanging thoughts on favourite authors, genres, and memorable reads. The exchange of recommendations feels like a treasure trove of new adventures waiting to be explored. It's a conversation that transcends the boundaries of the room and opens a door to a shared passion that you both cherish. In this moment you get an overwhelming feeling of deja vu, as if you have been in this position before, or have yet to be in this situation.
During this intimate moment, you realise that beneath Yeo's quiet demeanour lies a wealth of knowledge and a genuine enthusiasm for the things he loves. The connection you share through your shared interest in books is a testament to the richness of human connection and the beauty of discovering common ground with someone you might not have expected. It's a reminder that there's always more to uncover about the people around you, and that even the quietest among us can hold hidden depths waiting to be explored. 
-
Immersed in the creative haven of your bedroom, you find comfort in the rhythmic strokes of your pencil against the textured paper. For the past week, you have poured your heart and soul into a meticulously crafted drawing of your eight friends, their features coming to life with each delicate line and shading. It has become your labour of love, a tribute to the cherished connections you've formed with each of them. As melodic tunes echo through the room from a speaker perched on your desk, the dulcet melodies provide a gentle backdrop to your artistic activities. The song, suggested by Woo himself, serves as a bridge, connecting your creative energy with the vibrations of the soundscape. You find yourself instinctively bobbing your head in time to the rhythm, your body swaying with harmony.
However, the tranquillity is abruptly shattered as the front door slams shut, the unexpected noise jolting you from your reverie. Your heart skips a beat, a surge of both dismay and fear coursing through your veins. The unmistakable thudding of footsteps echoes up the stairs, sending a shiver down your spine. It is your father's arrival, a presence that always harbours an air of tension and unpredictability.
With nimble urgency, you reach over to the speaker and swiftly silence the music, plunging the room into a weighted silence. The absence of melodies only amplifies the unease that lingers in the air, adding an oppressive weight to the atmosphere. Your sanctuary, once filled with the joyous sounds of music, is now stifled by the solemn hush that envelops it.
A palpable tension fills the room as you desperately hope for a stroke of luck, silently pleading for your father to bypass your closed door, his footsteps continuing down the hall to his own room. In the stillness of the moment, you remain frozen, your very breath restrained in anticipation.
But, as fate would have it, luck turns a deaf ear to your silent wishes. The door creaks open, swinging inward with a reluctant motion, revealing the formidable figure of your father standing on the threshold. His presence alone fills the room with an air of trepidation, his imposing stature and crossed arms creating an impenetrable barrier that demands attention.
Struggling to maintain his balance, you notice the slight wobble in his stance, a sign of the tumultuous emotions that brew within him. His arms remain tightly folded over his chest; a physical shield that matches the sternness etched onto his face. The weight of his gaze, intense and unyielding, seems to pierce through the silence, weighing heavily upon the room and those within it. A mixture of apprehension and anxiety coalesces within you, causing your heart to race in your chest. The air hangs heavy with unspoken words as if any attempt at conversation might trigger an unexpected tempest. You hold your breath, awaiting the next move, your entire being poised on a precipice of hesitation. 
“What are you doing?” He questions, his voice slurred and unclear.
“Drawing,” With a sense of urgency, you respond hastily, your words chosen carefully to minimise any potential escalation. The desire to avoid the volatile whirlwind of his unpredictable moods propels you to seek a rapid conclusion to the interaction, hoping that your brief responses will prevent the conversation from lingering any longer than necessary. The burdensome weight of the situation and the fatigue that grips your spirit urge you to retreat, seeking solace and respite from the tumultuous presence of your father. You are caught off guard by your father's presence and the disconcerting aura surrounding him, you find yourself yearning for a swift end to the interaction. Your own emotions, a mix of weariness and apprehension, compel you to seek an expedited resolution. The weight of his unpredictable and volatile emotions, amplified by the telltale signs of his consumption of alcohol, looms heavily in the room, intensifying your desire to disengage from the conversation.
“When are your exams?” The man asks as he stumbles into your room, clearly fumbling around on his feet, unable to find balance on his feet, very clearly a side effect of the heavy consumption of alcohol.
“Next month.” 
A wave of unease washes over you as your father's brow furrows once more, his expression shifting into one of annoyance. The subtle creases on his forehead deepen, forming a stark contrast against the lines of tension etched upon his face. At that moment, your heart sinks, a heavy weight settling in the pit of your stomach. The intensity of his displeasure, evident in the way his features contort, sends a surge of apprehension through your veins. Your own emotions waver on a cliff, poised between a desire to appease and a need to protect yourself from the potential fallout. As his annoyance penetrates the room, you brace yourself for what may come next, keenly aware of the precarious nature of your current situation. 
“Then you should be studying.” He booms, his voice echoing off the walls of your small bedroom. 
“I was going to study when I finish this.” 
“Do not back talk to me.” The sound of your father's voice reverberates through the room, amplified by the alcohol coursing through his veins, causing you to flinch involuntarily. Avoiding direct eye contact, you shift your gaze downwards, unable to bear the intensity of his drunken rage. The urge to roll your eyes at his exaggerated and unjustified behaviour becomes nearly irresistible, as you struggle to comprehend why he is directing his anger at you for such a trivial matter. A sense of exasperation builds within you, fuelled by the stark contrast between the magnitude of his reaction and the insignificance of the situation at hand. The weight of his misplaced frustration leaves you bewildered, questioning the logic behind his anger. It feels like an unwarranted attack on your being, leaving you grappling with a mix of resentment and confusion. Yet, mindful of the volatile nature of the situation, you tamp down your instinctive response. Instead, you silently navigate the treacherous waters, attempting to maintain composure and seeking a swift resolution to this senseless confrontation.
“I’m sorry.” In a desperate attempt to defuse the escalating tension, you respond, your words laced with a mix of pleading and a longing for tranquillity. Your desire to return to the serene solace of your artistic endeavours intensifies, fuelling your efforts to restore a sense of calm. However, your heart lurches upward, lodging itself in your throat, as your father takes a step closer, intruding upon your personal space. A shiver snakes its way down your spine as his hand reaches out, settling heavily on the back of your neck. The weight of his touch feels oppressive, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil that engulfs you. 
Fear dances within your veins, mingling with a sense of vulnerability. The boundaries that should protect you have been violated, leaving you acutely aware of your powerlessness at this moment. Your instinctive longing for escape intensifies, urging you to seek refuge from this dangerous environment and the touch that sends chills down your spine.
“Don’t forget who is in charge here.” Your father's whispered words cut through the air, a chilling undertone accompanying them, as his nails dig into the delicate skin of your neck. The sharp pain shoots through your body, an unwelcome reminder of the power imbalance in this unsettling encounter. Tears gather in your eyes, threatening to spill over as a mixture of pain and anxiety churns within your chest, constricting your throat. A knot of fear tightens in your stomach, intensifying the overwhelming sense of vulnerability that envelopes you. The weight of his grip and the raw discomfort that courses through your body serves as a stark reminder of the control he applies, amplifying the helplessness that grips your being. You yearn for release from this distressing moment, desperately seeking an escape from his oppressive presence and the escalating pain that continues to coil around you.
A lump forms in your throat, constricting your voice as you manage to summon a weak response, uttering a subdued, "Yes, Dad." The weight of fear and anxiety threatens to overwhelm you, making it difficult to find the strength to speak or express yourself fully. 
The knowledge of past experiences with your father looms in your mind, serving as a reminder of the potential consequences that could follow even the slightest provocation. The disparity between the magnitude of his reaction and the seemingly insignificant trigger leaves you confused, the fear of setting off his anger further stifling your genuine thoughts and feelings. The urge to voice your true thoughts, to stand up for yourself, simmers within, but the fear that accompanies it serves as a heavy muzzle, silencing the words you long to say. In this suffocating atmosphere, you decide to bite your tongue, for now, choosing self-preservation over the risk of inciting his explosive rage. 
“What is this shit?” Your father's voice cuts through the air with a biting edge, his disdain is evident as he questions the worth of your drawing. His harsh gaze fixated upon the paper on your desk, the discarded pencil serving as a silent witness to his disapproval.
“Just something I’m working on.” In an attempt to diffuse the situation, you reply with a hint of defensiveness, your words laced with an eagerness for him to cease his interrogation and retreat from your sanctuary. The desperate plea for him to leave you be, to preserve the sanctity of your safe space, hangs heavily in the air between you.
As he snatches the sketchbook from the desk, your nerves intensify, your pulse quickening as his scrutinising eyes peruse the paper. The tension in the room becomes almost suffocating, amplifying your anxiety to new heights.
“Who is this?” His bitter and slurred voice reverberates, the words barely coherent. 
Fear floods your veins, and knowing the truth would lead to misunderstanding and potential danger. Hastily, you weave a web of lies, your words rushed and unsteady, hoping to divert his attention away from the genuine connection you share with the boys.
The man's anger escalates, his words morphing into a piercing yell that reverberates within the confines of the room. The intensity of his outburst pierces your ears, each syllable hammering into your consciousness. The weight of his disdain for your artistic talent lands heavily upon your heart, his belittlement serving as a painful reminder of the limitations he imposes upon your aspirations. 
Panic grips you as your father's hand inches closer to the paper, and a sense of dread fills every fibre of your being as you realise his malicious intentions. Frantically, you reach out in a futile attempt to stop him, but your efforts prove futile as he ruthlessly rips the page from the book, tearing it down the middle. Tears well up in your eyes as a profound sense of disappointment and pain courses through your body, your hard work treated with callous disregard, tossed aside as if it were nothing. With a surge of determination, you rise from your chair, driven by an instinct to protect what remains of your creation. However, your resistance is met with ruthless force as your father forcefully pushes your body, causing you to crash onto the floor, the impact jolting through your hip and radiating pain throughout your entire being. The anguish of your shattered artwork pales in comparison to the physical and emotional pain inflicted upon you at this moment.
As you lie on the floor, a broken mess of tears and anguish, your father's rage reaches new heights. He towers over you, his face contorted with anger, grabbing the back of your head painfully once again. The proximity of his enraged face leaves you trembling, his piercing scream reverberating through your ears, assaulting your senses with an intensity that feels unbearable. In this horrifying moment, you are forced to confront the painful reality of his control, the overwhelming weight of his anger eclipsing any semblance of safety or peace. 
“If I ever see you sketching again, I will not be as forgiving.” Spit flies from your father’s mouth, his breath reeking of alcohol, making you even more disgusted. Tears fall freely from your eyes as you try to maintain your composure, so as to not enrage the man even further. Your father continues his words, “Clean this mess up. I’m going to sleep.” 
With an abrupt exit, the man stumbles out of your room, his unsteady footsteps resounding on the wooden floor, echoing the turmoil that lingers in his wake. You can only surmise that he retreats to his own bedroom, likely collapsing onto the bed in a drunken slumber. The abruptness of his departure offers a temporary respite, but the emotional scars and residual fear remain, haunting the air within your room. Weeping silently, your trembling hands pressed against your face, you struggle to contain the overwhelming surge of emotions that threaten to overcome you. In the midst of your despair, you survey the scattered remnants of your destroyed drawing, yearning for a miracle that would restore it to its former glory. Each torn piece becomes a painful reminder of the shattered gift intended for your only friends.
With shaky resolve, you begin the arduous task of collecting the fragmented remnants, moving them from the floor to the bin next to your desk. Each movement brings fresh waves of tears, your heart aching at the irreparable loss of the heartfelt gesture. The realisation that the memento meant to convey your appreciation and friendship now lies in ruins only amplifies your sense of devastation. As you meticulously dispose of the torn pieces, your tears fall even harder, tracing a sorrowful path down your cheeks. The weight of the ruined gift presses upon your soul, a profound sense of loss mingling with the lingering pain of the recent encounter. In this moment of vulnerability, you find solace in your tears, allowing yourself to grieve the destruction of your artistic expression and the shattered connection it represented.
As the silence envelops the house, you breathe a sigh of relief, realising that the man who instils such terror within you is finally lost in the depths of sleep. Drawing strength back into your trembling legs, you hastily slip on your shoes, a desperate urgency compelling you to escape the confines of the place you dread most. 
Stealthily, you navigate the familiar hallways, your movements shrouded in silence, driven by an intense need to distance yourself from the haunting presence that lingers within those walls. The weight of your fear propels you forward, guiding your steps towards an uncertain destination.
In your frantic search for solace, you find yourself stumbling upon the empty warehouse, its vast expanse providing a sense of respite and comfort that you yearn for. Though devoid of human presence, you know deep within your soul that the very atmosphere within this cavernous space will envelop you, granting a momentary reprieve from the overwhelming emotions that threaten to consume you.
Stepping into the familiar warehouse, the sound of the large metal doors scraping against the concrete floor reverberates through the cavernous space, creating a symphony of echoes that dance along the walls. The rhythmic noise seems to announce your entrance as if beckoning invisible spectators to witness your raw vulnerability. Yet, amidst the vast emptiness, the absence of your friends accentuates the solitude that envelops you, amplifying the bittersweet comfort of this cherished sanctuary.
Staggering towards the worn-out couch, its faded fabric hinting at the countless memories shared upon its cushions, you allow your body to collapse into its familiar embrace. The soft cushions yield beneath your weight, conforming to the contours of your tired form. You lay down sideways, finding comfort in the familiar haven that holds so many cherished moments. The tears flow freely from your eyes, tracing glistening paths down your cheeks, as if the very fabric of the pillow beneath your head absorbs the weight of your sorrow. Every sob that escapes your trembling lips reverberates within the expansive metal room, each one a witness to the depth of your pain. The echoes reverberate through the space, intertwining with the ethereal remnants of laughter and friendship that have painted the walls with a subtle warmth. The traumatic event that has left you bruised and broken resonates within the vastness of the room, its hollowness a haunting backdrop to your vulnerability.
Time becomes a fluid concept as you lose yourself in the catharsis of your tears. The exhaustion weighs upon you like an invisible burden, the weight of the world pressing down upon your weary shoulders. Each sob drains your energy, leaving your eyelids heavy and your body craving a respite from the relentless ache. Gradually, the exhaustion takes hold, its grasp tightening around your consciousness. The drowsiness seeps into every fibre of your being, your mind and body surrendering to the lullaby of weariness. As the golden rays of the setting sun filter through the cracks in the metal walls, casting an ethereal glow upon your tear-stained face, sleep claims you, offering a temporary escape from the harsh realities that haunt your waking hours.
As the coils of sleep begin to loosen their grip on your consciousness, you are jolted awake by the sensation of being gently shaken. Blinking groggily, you try to push away from the source of the disturbance, a low groan escaping your lips. To your surprise, the sound is met with a soft chuckle, a deep voice calling your name with tenderness. A hand comes to rest on your head, its touch gentle and soothing, patting you in a comforting rhythm.
Startled, your heart skips a beat, your body tensing at the unexpected touch. The fear of encountering your father floods your mind, sending waves of anxiety coursing through your veins. In a swift motion, you sit up, the blanket slipping from your shoulders, your eyes scanning the dimly lit surroundings of the warehouse. It takes a moment for your vision to adjust, and when it does, you realise that you are still in the familiar confines of the warehouse, resting on the worn-out couch. The realisation washes over you, relief mingling with lingering fearfulness.
Peering around, you notice that darkness has descended upon the space, replacing the golden hues of the setting sun with a blanket of shadow. It dawns on you that you must have been asleep for several hours, the passage of time slipping by unnoticed as fatigue overcomes you. Your gaze then falls upon the source of your awakening, the boy known as 'Yu,' crouched on the floor before the couch. His soft grin illuminates his features, his dishevelled brown hair partially hiding his eyes, his cheeks adorned with a gentle blush. 
“Are you okay? What are you doing sleeping here?” Yu asks, looking you tenderly in your eyes, causing your heart to flip in circles.
“I needed to get away from some stuff.” You answer truthfully, not being able to find the strength to lie to the boy in front of you. 
As Yu's concerned gaze meets yours, the worry etched on his face, the smile that had adorned his features fades away. The depth of your distress is evident to him, and he can sense the heaviness that weighs upon your weary soul. It's as if he can see through the facade you wear, peering into the depths of your eyes to witness the pain and exhaustion that lies within. 
At this moment, any trace of anger or frustration that had accompanied him to the warehouse dissipates entirely, replaced by a newfound tenderness and empathy. He is drawn to you, compelled to offer comfort and relief in the face of your evident struggle. Moving closer, his larger hand finds its way to rest gently atop yours, a gesture that sends a cascade of butterflies fluttering within your stomach. The warmth of his touch seeps into your skin, offering a respite from the coldness that had entered the warehouse. It's a simple act, but it carries a profound weight, communicating a silent message of support and understanding. In this shared moment of vulnerability, you feel a glimmer of hope and connection, as if a lifeline has been extended to you in the midst of your despair. 
“What happened, Tiny?” 
The nickname was bestowed upon you by the boys when you first joined their group, a playful teasing inspired by the absolute height difference between you and Yu. It quickly became a term of endearment that all eight adopted, using it to address you with affectionate familiarity. However, at this moment, as Yu's tenderness envelopes you, the meaning behind the nickname takes on a new layer of complexity, evoking emotions that elude your grasp. It's an unfamiliar sensation for Yu to display such genuine care towards you, considering his infatuation with another girl that has kept him at a distance. Yet, at this moment, you can't help but yearn for his tender presence to be a constant, for him to act as if no other girl holds his attention. The conflicting emotions swirl within you, torn between the desire to keep this fragile connection intact and the fear of revealing the recent traumatic events that unfolded hours ago, uncertain of how Yu would react. 
Your attention shifts to where your hands meet, and your heart lurches at the sight of gashes and blood staining Yu's knuckles. Concern overtakes you, the worry carved upon your features as you contemplate the cause of his injuries. Questions buzz in your mind, begging to be asked, but the fear of intruding upon his personal struggles holds you back. The realisation that pain has marked his hands, mirroring the pain that has scarred your own being, intensifies your sense of worry and empathy.
In this delicate moment, a silent exchange of emotions hangs in the air, unspoken words lingering between you. The weight of unspoken truths and shared vulnerabilities creates a bond that is both fragile and powerful, leaving you uncertain of what course of action to take next. 
“What happened to your hand?” you inquire, pulling his hand into your lap, and observing the wounds on his pretty hands.
Peering up at Yu, concern etched across your features, his heart skips a beat, an unfamiliar sensation stirring within him. It's a feeling he struggles to decipher, a gentle tug that seems to pull at the depths of his being. His eyes lock with yours, and at that moment, time seems to stand still as he finds himself captivated by the curiosity and vulnerability reflected in your gaze. There's a tenderness in Yu's eyes, an almost loving quality as he studies your appearance. His gaze lingers on your swollen eyes, evidence of the tears you've shed and the burden you've carried. The worry radiates from him, manifesting as a protective instinct that seeks to shield you from further pain. It's a sentiment that surprises even him, the depth of his concern far surpassing the bounds of friendship.
In this silent exchange, a subtle shift occurs within Yu, as if the barriers he had carefully constructed around his emotions begin to crumble. The walls he had built to guard his heart start to crack, allowing a glimmer of something deeper to emerge. Though he may not fully understand the extent of his own feelings, the way his gaze lingers on you with tenderness and compassion speaks volumes.
In this moment, a connection forms, the unspoken understanding between you deepening. It's as if a silent agreement is forged, promising support and comfort amidst the challenges you both face. The weight of unspoken words and shared empathy fills the space between you, laying the foundation for something more profound and transformative. 
“Have you been crying?” His voice is gentle and calming, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable by the inquiry, wishing for you to answer.
“Why is your hand hurt?” you retort, his hand still resting in your lap, you trying to wipe away stray pieces of dirt in the cuts. Your hand lingers atop Yu's, a gentle touch that he usually guards against, he finds himself pleasantly surprised by the ease with which he allows you to maintain the contact. It's a rare occurrence for him to let others freely touch him, his personal boundaries carefully shielded. Yet, at this moment, he feels a sense of comfort and acceptance in your touch, as if a barrier he didn't know existed has been effortlessly breached.
The surprise intensifies as he realises that he enjoys the sensation of your hand resting upon his, the warmth of your touch bringing a sense of connection that he hadn't anticipated. There's a certain serenity in your presence, a quiet assurance that draws him in, inviting him to let down his guard and allow himself to be vulnerable. His gaze remains fixated on you, his attention solely focused on your interaction. The world around him seems to fade into the background as he becomes absorbed in this shared moment, his own emotions swirling within. It's unfamiliar territory, one he hadn't expected to find himself in, yet he can't deny the pull that you exert upon him, the magnetic force of your presence.
In this newfound vulnerability, Yu begins to question his own reservations and the walls he has built around himself. Your touch, your unwavering attention, opens up a space where he can explore and discover a different side of himself, one that embraces connection and allows himself to be seen. Hands remaining touching, a silent understanding passes between you, unspoken words painting the canvas of this intimate moment. The depth of your connection holds the promise of something extraordinary, an exploration of emotions and possibilities that neither of you could have foreseen.
“I asked first.” Yu teases, trying to lift the mood, wanting to see the smile he has grown to adore appear on your features.
“I don’t want to bother you.” You reply, your voice shaky and quiet, answering truthfully, not sure if he would be able to handle the information you so desperately need to disclose to someone. 
“You never bother me,” As Yu contemplates his next move, a surge of courage courses through him. Without hesitation, he uses the hand that rests in your lap, gently interlocking his fingers with yours. He takes care to avoid smudging his dried blood on you or your clothes, a subtle gesture of consideration that doesn't go unnoticed.
The unexpected act of affection catches you off guard, your eyes widening in surprise. Heat rises to your cheeks, a blush betraying the fluttering emotions that swirl within you. You meet Yu's gaze, his eyes soft and filled with a tenderness that resonates deeply. A small smile graces his lips, a wordless reassurance that speaks volumes. In this simple gesture, he communicates a willingness to bridge the gap between you, to traverse the uncertain territory of shared vulnerability. It's a brave step forward, an offering of trust and a declaration of his sudden growing feelings.
“It’s okay, ___.” Yu whispers, his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly as his words become more serious, “You can tell me anything.”
Sighing, you decide maybe it is okay to confide in one person. 
“It’s my dad.” You admit, looking down at the hand that Yu has gripped gently in his own, his fingers wrapped around your smaller hand. Yu gives you a puzzled look, not sure what your father could have done to make you so upset. Noticing his confused expression, you continue speaking, “It is dumb, but I was working on this drawing, and he came in drunk out of his mind and started yelling at me for not studying,”
“Hold on, he was drunk?” Yu questions, starting to feel anger build up in his body.
“Yeah, but when is he not.” You attempt to joke, yet the look on Yu’s face doesn’t look amused, causing you to sigh gently, “he ripped up the drawing in front of my face and said if he ever sees me drawing again, he ‘won’t be as forgiving’, whatever that means,” you mumble, the weight of vulnerability settling upon you, you become highly aware of the depth of the information you have just shared. 
A sense of unease and apprehension begins to gnaw at your insides, uncertain of how Yu will react to this newfound revelation. The silence that follows is deafening, and you can't help but lift your gaze from your intertwined hands to meet his eyes.
What you see takes you by surprise, an expression of absolute disbelief etched across Yu's features. His eyes wide, his lips slightly parted as if struggling to find the words to respond. The moment hangs suspended in time, the tension thickening the air between you. Questions swirl in your mind, uncertainty threatening to unravel the fragile connection that has been forged. Doubt creeps in, casting shadows over the vulnerability you have exposed. You find yourself questioning the wisdom of sharing such intimate feelings, fearing the potential repercussions it may have on your friendship. In this charged moment, the world seems to hold its breath, waiting for Yu's reaction. The uncertainty weighs heavily upon you, your heart pounding in your chest as you anxiously await his response.
Preparing to question the impact of your confession on Yu, your words catch in your throat, suspended by the sudden movement of his embrace. In a swift motion, he pulls you towards him, enveloping your body in a tight hug that leaves you momentarily breathless. Your head is gently guided to rest in the crook of his neck, the warmth of his skin against yours sending shivers down your spine. His hand finds its place on the back of your head, his fingers tenderly stroking your hair with a soothing rhythm. Yu's sensitivity to your tense form prompts a fleeting hesitation within him, a flicker of uncertainty about having crossed a boundary or making you uncomfortable. But when he feels your entire body relax and melt into his embrace, a surge of emotions courses through him. His heart pounds rapidly in his chest, swelling with a feeling akin to absolute adoration. It's a moment of defencelessness and connection that surpasses words, forging a bond between you that almost feels unbreakable.
In response to his comforting presence, you wrap your arms tightly around his neck, seeking solace in his embrace. Nestling into the curve of his neck, you revel in the sensation of being held, the touch of his skin against yours grounding you in the present moment. Yu adjusts his position, rising to sit on his knees and drawing himself even closer to your body. Your chests align, rising and falling in synchrony, as he positions himself between your legs. His grip tightens around you, afraid that you might vanish from his embrace.
In this intimate cocoon, it becomes clear that you weren't the only one in need of a hug. The mutual longing for comfort and reassurance binds you together, transcending the complexities of your individual experiences. In this tender moment of shared vulnerability, the world around you fades into insignificance, leaving only the warmth of each other's presence, the solace of a genuine connection, and the promise of healing.
Basking in the comfort of Yu's embrace, time seems to suspend, creating a sanctuary where worries and troubles momentarily fade away. However, your heart sinks when you feel him slowly pull away, a pang of disappointment seeping through your being. Yet, his hand continues to stroke the back of your head, his touch lingering, serving as a reminder of the tenderness you experienced.
Meeting his gaze, locking eyes with him, and at that moment, the connection between you deepens. It's as if the world around you dims, leaving only the intensity of his brown eyes that seem to hold a universe of emotions. Every fibre of your being is drawn to him, falling deeper into a feeling you've been trying to resist. 
A hint of reluctance lingers in Yu's actions as he clears his throat, a signal that the intimate moment must come to an end. He slowly removes himself from your embrace, settling back into his previous position. Yet, his gaze remains fixed on you, unyielding and intense, as if he's afraid to look away, afraid to lose the connection that has formed. You find yourself lost in his gaze, a swirl of feelings and unspoken words passing between you. There's a magnetic pull, an unspoken understanding that something profound has transpired between you. It's a delicate dance of emotions, a dance that neither of you can fully comprehend but are unwilling to let go.
In this halted moment, the air crackles with anticipation, as if the next words spoken could alter the course of your relationship forever. The intensity in Yu's eyes speaks volumes, a testament to the depth of the bond that has formed between you. 
“If something like this happens again, please let me know,” Yu says, breaking the silence, his voice serious, needing to protect you from whatever your father could possibly do in the future.
A meek smile graces your lips, an expression of gratitude that conveys more than words ever could. Deep within, you carry the weight of unspoken pain and secrets, understanding that some experiences are difficult to share, especially the ones involving your father. You appreciate Yu's offer of support, even though you know you can't burden him with the full extent of what you've endured.
In this moment of silent acknowledgement, you convey a deep sense of gratitude for his presence, for the solace he has unknowingly offered. It's a silent understanding that goes beyond words, a recognition of the unspoken connection between you. Despite the barriers that may exist, you find solace in knowing that there is someone who cares, someone willing to extend a helping hand.
“Now your turn.” You exclaim, causing Yu to give you a confused look, “Your hand. What happened?”
Yu lets out a sound of realisation, his expression matching it. Looking down at the gashes in his hands, Yu makes an expression similar to embarrassment. 
“I got in a fight,” Yu explains, his cheeks heating up, realising you might be disappointed in him.
“Another? Why now?” You question, your voice is soft and caring, making him realise you aren’t upset at him, just worried, making his heart warm slightly, despite the war and heartbreak going throughout his entire body.
“The girl that Yeo and I used to like… she has said some stuff, some stuff that isn’t true. It’s tearing us apart, all of us.” Yu’s voice is shaky, and you can tell he is deeply affected by the circumstances.
Immediately, your interest is piqued, and concern envelops your being, you can't help but wonder what could have been said by the girl to have such a profound impact on Yu and the entire group. The realisation that her words have caused a collective breakdown weighs heavily on your mind, triggering a surge of curiosity and a deeper level of concern. Thoughts whirl through your head, seeking answers and understanding. What could she have revealed that shattered their spirits? What truths or revelations could have struck a chord so deeply? You can't help but ponder the significance of her words and the implications they hold for your friends and their emotional well-being.
In the midst of your thoughts, a mix of emotions floods your being, concern, empathy, and a deep desire to alleviate their pain. The bond between you and the group becomes even more heartrending, a reminder of the connection of your lives and the importance of standing together in the face of adversity. 
“What did she say?” You question, your hand coming to rest on his like he did earlier.
“She said we laid our hands on her, we hurt her, physically, sexually. But I swear on everything, I have never put my hands on her, on anyone. None of us have, we have only ever acted in self-defence. I don’t know why all of a sudden, she is making up these stories. It is tearing us apart. Every single person believes her, they are coming after us, with their fists. Someone tried to come at Captain and I with a baseball bat, and it’s terrifying us, we don’t know what to do.”
“Wait what?” Your voice trembles with a mixture of shock and disbelief as you contemplate why this girl would suddenly feel the need to falsely accuse the boys you have grown so close to. In the time you've spent with them, you have come to know each of them as kind-hearted individuals, devoid of aggression or abusive tendencies. Your experiences with them have left a deep imprint, and you find it unfathomable to believe that any of them would ever lay a hand on someone, especially a woman.
The weight of this accusation hangs heavily in the air, and you struggle to reconcile the image of your friends with the words that have been spoken. It feels like a betrayal, not just to them but to the bond you have formed, as your faith in their character and integrity is steadfast. The disbelief fuels a surge of protectiveness and a fierce desire to defend them against these baseless accusations.
When Yu raises his gaze to meet yours, the shimmering tears threatening to escape, your heart aches with empathy and compassion. The vulnerability etched across his face mirrors your own inner turmoil, as you share a profound connection and a shared understanding of the gravity of the situation. At that moment, your heart breaks for him and for the rest of the group, as you witness the weight of their pain and the unjust burden they must bear.
“I don’t know why this is happening, or why she said it was all of us. Only Yeo and I have spent time with her, she has never even met the boys. Plus, we haven’t seen her in over two months, she said it happened last month. It makes no sense.”
“Yu, if it’s not true then you do not have to worry about anything. It will get sorted, okay? You are innocent.” All you can do is bring the man into your arms once again, this time letting him weep into your shoulder, his body limp against yours. It breaks your heart to see him so vulnerable, so broken because of deadly rumours.
“We will get this sorted, Yu. I promise.”
------
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IOTA Reviews: Derision
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Well, here we are. This is the episode you've all been waiting for me to cover. The one people claim is the cream of the crop when it comes to badness, not just for the insane amount of retcons and cases of character assassination, but for how it retroactively makes one of the most criticized parts of the entire show worse by comparison. If you've seen the episode, you know what I'm talking about.
Let's get into the fourteenth episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fifth season: Derision
We start off with Marinette waking up for the day before getting a call from Adrien, who gives one of the clunkiest pieces of exposition I've ever heard on this show, and that's saying something.
Adrien: I was just going to tell you how excited I am that we're meeting at the swimming pool later, and to wake you up just in case you were still sleeping.
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Just as she hangs up, Marinette's hands start to tremble, having visions of a locker, hinting at some old memories resurfacing. Just to get this out of the way, but one thing I want to give this episode props for is the way these panic attacks are portrayed. The colors change, the environments warp around, and it gives off a very uneasy feeling. It kind of reminds me of this one episode of The Twilight Zone, “Little Girl Lost”, which used similar visuals to depict the otherworldly atmosphere of another dimension.
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Marinette meets up with Adrien at the local pool, and has another panic attack. Kim and Ondine seem to notice this.
Kim: Woah, Adrien. That must've been some prank you pulled to make Marinette freak out like that. What did you do to her?
Ondine: It's not funny, Kim! Can't you see Marinette's not okay?
Kim: Oh, come on. She always reacts like that when someone pranks her.
Kim then proceeds to tell Adrien and Ondine (and by extension, the audience) about what he means. I'm going to talk a lot about this, so to make things easier for all of us, I'll give you the short version so you have an idea of what happened.
About a year before the events of “Origins”, we see Chloe was bullying Marinette even more than she did before then, constantly pulling sadistic pranks Megan from Drake & Josh would find to be overkill, while making her late to class. To make things worse, none of her teachers believed her and took Chloe's side all the time, giving her detention on the weekends. Mylene, Rose, and Juleka try to help Marinette, but apparently, Chloe orders them to not talk with her before saying that “she'll be there to make Marinette's life a nightmare”.
The only person with the common sense to help out Marinette is Socqueline, that girl from “Jubiliation”. Socqueline learns that Marinette has a crush on Kim, who is even more of a jerk than he was during the first half of Season 1, and when Marinette thinks about asking him out to the swimming pool after school, Socqueline advises Marinette to be careful. Sabrina tips off Chloe to Marinette's plan, so Chloe goes to give Kim advice to pull a prank on Marinette. At the pool, just as Marinette confesses her feelings to Kim, Kim gives her a box full of spiders, causing her to panic and fall backwards into the pool. Chloe films the thing with the intent to make it go viral, but Socqueline stops her plan before she can upload it. Kim doesn't seem to see what he did was wrong, seeing it as a harmless joke as Socqueline tells him to piss off.
It's here that Marinette determines that if she ever has feelings for a boy ever again, she'll need to be super prepared, explaining how much she knows about Adrien and his schedule in later episodes. Chloe then gets Socqueline expelled from school just a few weeks before the end of the school year. Marinette blames herself for what happened, but Socqueline tells her that sometimes, no matter how dire the odds seem, she needs to muster up the courage to fight the good fight.
Oh, and Marinette was almost akumatized by Monarch again, but it's really just an excuse to keep her away while Kim tells the story.
So... let's talk about this flashback. Clocking in at about ten minutes, almost half of the episode's runtime, this is easily the part everyone (myself included) seems to have problems with, for all kinds of reasons. Let's break down each and everything wrong with this flashback.
#1: The Portrayal of Chloe
Surprisingly, this is the least of my problems. Compared to Kim (who I'll get to later), Chloe is mostly in character with how she's usually portrayed by this point in the series. She's egotistical, she orders Sabrina around, she hates Marinette, and throws her father's name around over and over again like it's a boomerang. My feelings on the wasted opportunities with her character aside, this does make sense seeing how this takes place before Season 1.
But there's the problem. This takes place before Season 1, and Chloe does things she never did in Season 1, or any of the other seasons for that matter. She clearly has the teachers and principal doing what she wants, she can boss the other students around (which I'll also get to later), she pulls sadistic practical jokes on Marinette, and even uses her dad's name to get Socqueline expelled. In the show, she doesn't really do any of this. Sure, she can occasionally use her dad's influence to get what she wants (Lady Wifi, Rogercop, Frightningale, Determination), but it was never to this extent. While she also tried to act like she was better than the rest of her peers, barring Sabrina, nobody ever listened to her or took her seriously. Chloe also tended to focus on bullying Marinette, but she didn't do these kinds of practical jokes. Usually, it was either sabotage (Mr. Pigeon, Despair Bear, Gabriel Agreste) or just general name calling, and she picked on other students too (Dark Cupid, Reflekta, Antibug, Sole Crusher, Penalteam, Deflagration).
The point I'm trying to make is why the hell did Chloe stop acting this way? What caused her to stop being as bad as she is here? I get the whole point of this episode is to show how terrible Chloe is, but you're showing off all her bad moments in a flashback and never considering the other things she's done that would be just as effective. Wasn't the main idea behind Chloe's “damnation arc” that she started to change, but went back on her ways and became worse than before? If that's the case, I have to reiterate, why was she even worse in this flashback?
I also have an issue with making the cause of all of Marinette's trauma because of this prank by Chloe. Yes, the prank was terrible, and trust me this isn't me once again going “GRR! CHLOE STAN ANGRY BECAUSE RICH GIRL IS EVIL IN FLASHBACK!”. It's more along the lines of “Really? We're really doing this?”. While I'm glad that after Chloe's betrayal at the end of Season 3, the show is finally considering the idea of making her more than just comic relief as a villain, it feels like a case of too little, too late.
After so many years of making Chloe out to be harmless unless she screams her daddy's name, now you're treating her like a serious threat who traumatized Marinette for life? Chloe is the cause of Marinette's trauma? This is like if the person who killed Bruce Wayne's parents turned out to be a joke character like Egghead or Crazy Quilt. Just because a serious villain does something important to the story, it doesn't automatically make their prior unfunny antics go away.
But my main gripe with the portrayal of Chloe here is that this flashback fails to do something that still hasn't been done in almost five seasons and eight years: Explain just why Chloe hates Marinette so much. Chloe is unusually cruel here, and doesn't even have a reason to torture Marinette like this. Usually, Marinette gets in the way of what she wants, but here? Marinette doesn't do anything to warrant this level of dedication. You would think for a flashback sequence focusing on her and Marinette's history, they would actually explain why Chloe likes to single out Marinette, but they don't. The writers would rather take time out of the episode to remind the audience of why Chloe is the way she is, and why it isn't acceptable, than clarify what Chloe's deal with Marinette is.
Rose: She’s this way because her mother left her when she was young.
Mylene: So did mine, and you don't see me having fun bullying Marinette.
Gee, I wonder if Astruc himself had a part in writing that exchange or not.
If you're willing to acknowledge previous episodes while also discussing how poorly Chloe treats Marinette, it would help if you finally did something to inform the audience about why Chloe likes to torture Marinette in the first place. Did Marinette show Chloe up at a fashion show? Did Marinette impress Chloe's dad one time? Did Marinette just spill coffee on Chloe's shoes? I will take literally anything, no matter how stupid the explanation is, over getting nothing after eight years.
It's also pretty rich that that scene was trying to say that what happened to Chloe doesn't justify her actions when not only do we never get a scene like that pointing out how creepy Marinette obsesing over Adrien was, but later in the episode, Marinette specifically pins all the blame on Chloe in one line.
Marinette: Adrien! I know what's wrong with me! It's not my fault, and it's not your fault, either! It's all Chloe's fault!
So remember kids, just because bad things happen to you, it doesn't excuse your unflattering actions... except when it does, and in that case, it's all the fault of the person who wronged you in the first place.
#2: The Portrayal of Kim
I'll admit, I'm not really the biggest fan of Kim as a character. I don't hate him, but it feels like after Season 2, he just became that guy who really loves to swim, where even characters like Max, Marc, and Nathaniel had more depth to them. This episode however? Yeah, I couldn't stand Kim here.
Just like with Chloe, Kim is sort of in character as the same eccentric dude who has a habit of being insensitive and accidentally upsetting people (Animan, Syren), and I need to emphasize the “sort of”. Just like Chloe, this goes against his characterization in Season 1, where he was shown to be a bully like Chloe was (Lady Wifi, Timetagger, Origins) before later episodes made him a nicer person. However, unlike Chloe, the show sort of tries to retcon Kim's rude behavior to be more in line with his Season 5 self by portraying him as more of a bully who simply isn't aware of how harmful his jokes are, but it doesn't work because of how cruel he seems, and he doesn't have the excuse of knowing how terrible he is like Chloe does.
There's also how easily he goes along with Chloe's prank when she literally insults him and Marinette to his face.
Chloe: I heard Marinette asked you to go with her to the swimming pool.
Kim: Yeah, we’re going swimming together. Cool! 'Cause I love to swim!
Chloe: That’s not why she asked you, dummy!
Kim: It's not? Then, what are we going to do? Chloe: She wants to declare her feelings for you! Kim: For me? But why?
Chloe: Probably because she's utterly ridiculous, and so are you, which makes you two perfect for each other!
Kim: Oh? You think so?
There's not being aware of how insensitive of how you are to others, and then there's not being able to comprehend basic insults. Chloe doesn't even try to give Kim a backhanded compliment or secretly insult him (“You really like swimming, don't you? Good thing you can swim better than you do in class.”). She just calls him a dummy, and Kim still falls for her trick. If you want to have Kim fall for Chloe's plan, don't make her so obviously cruel. For God's sake, you're making the class in the Lila episodes look smart by comparison.
And even after retelling the story, Kim still thinks Chloe highly, not only saying how pretty she is right in front of his girlfriend, but he still thinks the joke was the funniest thing ever. After five seasons, Kim of all people should know about how mean Chloe is, given he was literally kidnapped and brainwashed into serving her while she sided with Hawkmoth (Miracle Queen).
The worst part is that Kim has nothing to do with this story at all. You could literally replace him with any other guy, even a nameless background character with no lines, and nothing would change. Hell, I'd argue it'd be even better as having Marinette be embarrassed in front of some rando would highlight the impact it had on her self-esteem when she tries to go after someone of a higher social class. It would also better justify the spider prank if someone else pulled it because “Darkblade” established that Kim was afraid of spiders.
And if you think I'm talking about Kim after this part, believe me, there's more to this schmuck than meets the eye.
#3: The Way Everyone Just... Lets This All Happen
Look, I get what the episode is trying to go for, narratively, and realistically. Sometimes, teachers and other authority figures just don't do their jobs when someone gets bullied. Hell, I was bullied for years by someone who liked to take advantage of my anger issues, and it wasn't until my last year of middle school that the faculty finally decided to do something about it. I also get that this entire flashback wouldn't happen if the teachers realized how cruel Chloe was and got her expelled. What I don't get is how the flashback portrays anyone who was there as unwilling to do anything to help.
First off, Marinette claims that the reason none of the teachers believed her was because they're all too afraid to stand up to Chloe, since she can call her dad and cost them their jobs, but that's far from the truth. The only time we see anyone actually being afraid of Chloe was when Mr. Damocles went back on refusing to expel Socqueline before Chloe threatened to call her dad and get him fired. Other than that, while we only see Ms. Mendeleiev and Mr. Damocles in this flashback, neither of them really show any signs of being afraid of Chloe. They just go along with what she says, and they don't even try to take Marinette's side. Just like Kim, this would be more understandable if these were different characters who were never shown to be this cruel to Marinette in earlier episodes.
Second, while I can sort of buy the teachers not caring about Marinette, the fact that her classmates don't do anything is another story. We saw Mylene, Rose, and Juleka trying to help Marinette, but right after they talk to her, Chloe just orders them to go away, and it's never explained why. Marinette said the teachers were afraid of Chloe, but does that mean the students are too? Again, later episodes would establish nobody takes Chloe seriously as a bully, so this part of the flashback makes no sense. What changed to make them stop being afraid of Chloe anyway? Once again, if these were a bunch of nameless characters who were more apathetic to Marinette's situation, that would make sense, retroactively showing how much Marinette's friends care for her. Instead, it's like that scene in RWBY where the main characters watch a student being bullied by a racist classmate, and all they do is say “Wow, racism really sucks, huh? Anyway, not our problem.”
Third, you're telling me that Marinette came up with multiple excuses not to go to school even with a few weeks left in the year, and Marinette's parents didn't see anything weird about it? They didn't think that something must be making Marinette want to do anything but go to school? I don't think they were even informed about the situation at school, unless you want to be generous and say they knew Marinette got detention. You can't even make the excuse that it would work if these were different characters, but these are Marinette's parents. You know, the same characters the show portrays as loving and affectionate to their daughter? You're telling me they didn't even think to look into the situation, much less talk to Marinette about school?
The problem with all the other characters in this flashback is in order to make what happens possible, they have to be as apathetic as possible. There's being unaware of a situation or being too afraid to stand up (which is unfortunately something that happens when people bullied sometimes), and then there's just not caring about the bully victim at all. It's ironic how even though a big part of the flashback was to show how awful Chloe was, it unintentionally make everyone else in Marinette's life seem just as cruel to let her suffer like that.
But I know what you're thinking. “What about Socqueline? She was there to help Marinette, so why didn't you mention her?” Well...
#4: Where the Hell Has Socqueline Been All This Time?
Like I mentioned in my “Jubilation” review, Socqueline is yet another unnecessary addition to the already overcrowded cast of characters in this show, and it seemed like this episode was meant to justify her inclusion, but it only raised more questions.
Just to remind you, this flashback establishes that Marinette was constantly bullied by Chloe until a nice girl in glasses stood up for her, and inspired Marinette to be more confident.
SOUND FAMILIAR?
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Yeah, this flashback is pretty much the same as Marinette's arc in “Origins” was, only with Socqueline in Alya's place. We get it, writers, Season 1 was good. Constantly repeating stuff like what happened in “Mr. Pigeon 72” isn't going to win you any favors.
This really highlights how pointless of a character Socqueline is, as despite supposedly being a really important person in Marinette's life, Marinette herself never thought to tell anyone about her, and judging from how Marinette described her to Tikki in “Jubilation”, I don't think she even stayed in contact with Socqueline after she was expelled. It's not like left Paris afterwards. All we know is that she went to another school and got a job at a local arts and crafts store, so why did Marinette just stop talking with her? Even with Felix and Zoe, they had the excuse of being in different countries, but you can't say that with Socqueline.
Also, this was something I just realized, but if Mr. Damocles got her expelled, why the hell did Socqueline treat him like he was any other customer at her job, much less compliment him as a principal?
#5: The Handling of Trauma in General, and How This Impacts Marinette as a Character
Like pretty much every other serious issue it tries to tackle, Miraculous Ladybug has always had a poor understanding of mental health. When it comes to portraying characters who struggle with some form of grief of trauma, like Adrien, Felix, Chloe, Zoe, and even Marinette, the responses usually amount to some variation of “Grow a pair and get over it, you big baby!”.
With Felix, Chloe, and Marinette, even if their actions are partially motivated as a response to either losing a loved one, trying to emulate their neglectful parent, or as a defense mechanism to avoid repeating an already traumatic experience, they're all proven to be in the wrong, and it's not to teach a lesson about alternative coping mechanisms or support systems. The show just says that they're automatically wrong for what they do, what causes them to act the way they do is never acknowledged, and instead, we're supposed to just act like they're being jerks for no reason. Compare this to Adrien and Zoe, who both had rough lives losing their mother at a young age or living with an abusive mother respectively, and rather than go into detail how it affected them or how they managed to become decent human beings in spite of it, the show just says that they're nice people, so people like Felix, Chloe, and Marinette have no reason to be mean to others.
This is honestly why I feel like this episode's depiction of mental health and dealing with trauma falls flat. In case you didn't know, I asked my followers who had to deal with some form of trauma to share their experiences and how it compared to what Marinette went through in the episode. For the most part, the common consensus seems to be that while the symptoms of Marinette's trauma and her reactions to it are very believable, a lot of it is contradicted by previous episodes, and it seems like it was only there to do a story about dealing with trauma.
So many episodes across Seasons 1 through 4 show Marinette dealing with Kim and Chloe without really any issue, and she showed no problem with starting relationships with Luka and Cat Noir, to say nothing about Nathaniel's brief crush on her in “The Evillustrator”. If Marinette was so traumatized by this prank, why did she want to go swimming in episodes like “Gorizilla” and “Mr. Pigeon 72”? Why did she bother to help Kim confess to Chloe in “Dark Cupid”? Why did she team up with Chloe to sabotage Kagami in “Animaestro”? Why did she suggest Chloe could change for the better throughout Seasons 2 and 3? Why did she continue to let Chloe and Kim use the Bee and Monkey Miraculous respectively, even after they got them from outside sources? This flashback is desperately trying to tie previous events of the series together together, but it only works if you ignore all the times Marinette has interacted with Kim and Chloe without having a panic attack.
Then there's how the flashback tries to connect this to Marinette memorizing all of Adrien's schedule to make sure he won't hurt her, an obvious attempt to rebuff one of the biggest criticisms of her as a character. Here's why it doesn't work.
First off, the setup doesn't work because while Marinette vows to do a better job getting to know the next person she falls in love with and how, in her words mind you, “He isn't friends with Chloe”. Putting aside the kindness he's shown her in “Origins”, she kind of failed to really consider her choice to pursue him if he stayed friends with Chloe if we're going to believe Chloe traumatized Marinette so much.
It also doesn't really explain the more predatory actions Marinette has taken whenever another girl tries to get close to Adrien (The Bubbler, Volpina, Animaestro, Oni-Chan, Heart Hunter), or how she tries to rig up situations to get closer to him (The Gamer, Gigantitan, Backwarder, Party Crasher, Felix, Psycomedian, Glaciator 2, Simpleman). And that's not even getting into how obsessive she is with him in other areas, like repeatedly playing a commercial he was in (Gorizilla), making a bunch of presents for him in advance (Christmaster), trying to kiss a wax statue of him (The Puppeteer 2), sniffing his pillow (Cat Blanc), or all the other times she's creepily obsessed over him.
But of course, you've probably noticed that I've forgotten to mention one key thing about what this flashback means: You know how Marinette tends to act nervously and stumbles a lot around Adrien when she isn't meticulously documenting his schedule? Yeah, they were essentially panic attacks brought on by her PTSD, and the episode tries to act like Kim did to her wasn't funny afterwards. Here's the problem with this.
YOU MADE MARINETTE'S TRAUMA YOUR PRIMARY SOURCE OF COMEDY FOR THE PAST FIVE FUCKING SEASONS!
You do NOT have the right to act like what happened to Marinette was bad when you were constantly playing her anxiety up for laughs for almost EIGHT YEARS at this point!
In addition to all the other examples I mentioned, we had episodes like “Psycomedian”, which confirmed that the same behavior that this episode is trying to say is connected to her trauma was hilarious to Adrien, as well as “Backwarder”, which thrived on playing up Marinette's anxiety towards Adrien and was said to be one of the funniest episodes of the show to work on by Astruc himself.
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THIS IS WHAT THOMAS ASTRUC ACTUALLY BELIEVES
#6: Why This Flashback Is Ultimately Pointless
But above all, the biggest problem I have with this flashback is because of how pointless it is. It's trying to better go into detail about why Marinette acts the way she does around Adrien, but did we really need to do that?
This flashback doesn't really reveal anything that we didn't know already. We know Marinette was bullied by Chloe, we know she was a lot more meek and needed others to stand up for her, and we definitely know that we're not supposed to like Chloe. Adding to my earlier point, if we actually got more insight into the origin of Chloe's obsession with Marinette, that would have at least made this flashback important to watch, but once again, despite being a flashback episode, we learn nothing about the characters that we don't already know.
But this flashback is also meant to explain why Marinette is so hesitant to embrace her new relationship with Adrien when we already got a reason for that last season. The first half of the season has made a big deal about how much her feelings for Adrien cost her the Miraculous, so why not focus on that? This flashback just feels like it's here to give more Marinette angst instead of focusing on the things they've already established. And that's not even getting into what she saw during “Cat Blanc”.
Why couldn't we just have a story about Marinette's own insecurities causing her to doubt she can make her relationship with Adrien work, seeing how poorly things ended with Luka? Have her worry that something could go wrong as a result of her need to overcompensate, or worry that Adrien could betray her. That way, you could have Adrien supporting Marinette in a way that reflects their partnership as Cat Noir and Ladybug respectively.
But no. Instead we have this flashback that's taken me about ten pages to fully dissect. And the worst part is that I still have the rest of the episode to talk about. God help me...
So after Adrien and Ondine explain how this prank could have done a lot of damage to Marinette's psyche, Kim decides to find Marinette, and apologize for being so—Ah, I'm just messing with you guys. After all, that would actually make Kim likable. So what does he say instead?
Kim: Come on! Loosen up, you guys! It's like you can't even speak your mind these days.
Ondine: That doesn't give you permission to hurt other people!
Kim: Whatever! I'm the way I am and I'm fine that way! It's not my fault you guys have no sense of humor!
Yep, rather than having Kim realize the error of his ways and maybe be akumatized out of guilt, Kim just whines about how everyone else is just a humorless pansy these days. The writers pretty much made Kim's motivation boil down to “It's just a prank, bro!”. Even Monarch seems to go along with this, as he refers to Kim as “A free spirit feeling unjustly rejected”, when this was right after he called Chloe the prettiest girl in front of his own girlfriend's face. So Monarch sends his Akuma to Kim's goggles, akumatizing him into Dark Humor. Yes, that's really the name they're going with.
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Dark Humor is a pretty forgettable recolor of Dark Cupid. Other than inverting the red and black color scheme and giving him a targeting scope on his right eye, there's not much else to say other than the incredibly on the nose name they gave him. His powers are sort of like Dark Cupid's, only now, instead of turning people heartless, they now share his soulless brand of “humor”. At least, I think it is. His Alliance power is the Monkey Miraculous's Uproar, but it's not really clarified if he's only using Uproar arrows or not, judging from the use of the rubber ducky that we've seen King Monkey use before.
Marinette and Adrien transform into Ladybug and Cat Noir respectively, but once they meet up, we get the most controversial part of the episode that isn't connected to the flashback scene: Cat Noir gives Dark Humor the beatdown of his life and is about to Cataclysm him, for pulling a bad prank on Marinette a year ago. Yeah, a lot of people have pointed out that Adrien felt a lot of remorse for Cataclysming Monarch earlier in this season, yet here, Cat Noir looks like someone told him that Kim just shot the Pope. For God's sake, writers, you're five seasons in! How hard is it to determine whether or not you want your hero to be okay with killing people or not?
And of course, this bites him in the ass, as Dark Humor stabs Cat Noir with an arrow, not only changing his Cataclysm into something that creates a bunch of balls from his hand, but also making him just as insane as the rest of Dark Humor's victims. You know, I'm this close to starting a “Remember Season 1” counter, because this is just glorified fanservice.
Ladybug tries to summon her Lucky Charm, but is stopped by Dark Humor, so Ladybug transforms back into Marinette, transforms into Ladybug again, and summons her Lucky Charm for real this time, getting... a toilet. Of course, the only way to combat Dark Humor's bad jokes is by using even worse jokes! Genius! Ladybug places the toilet over Dark Humor's head and breaks it along with the goggles, freeing the Akuma.
Ladybug de-evilizes the Akuma, uses Miraculous Ladybug to fix the damage, gives Kim a useless Magical Charm, and Cat Noir apologizes for murdering Kim by saying his emotions got the better of him, which is like saying OJ Simpson and his wife had a minor disagreement.
Kim apologizes to Marinette for traumatizing her, and I guess that's enough for Ondine to forgive him for saying another girl is prettier than her.
After Marinette sort of explains what happened to Adrien, he goes over to tell Chloe to apologize, and we get... this scene.
Adrien: I know about everything that you did to Marinette last year, Chloe. You're going to go and apologize to her and prove to everyone that you can change. I'm sure she'll forgive you.
Chloe: (laughs) Forgive me? What do I care about her forgiveness? I couldn't care less about Dupain-Cheng's feelings! She and the likes of her only exist to suffer for my entertainment. Why bother having power if you can’t use it against those who don’t have any? You’re the one who’s getting things wrong, with your baker girl! You’re a prince! You belong with me, the princess! You’re in this world to shine! To make fun of all the losers who are only good enough to be used as doormats!
Adrien: You're nothing like a princess, Chloe. I supported you. I gave you multiple chances to become a better person. Everyone reached out to you, including Ladybug and Cat Noir when they gave you the Miraculous of the Bee again. But all you ever think about is yourself.
Chloe: And what else IS there to think about? Losers and nobodies? The little bees? The planet?
Adrien: We will never be friends again, Chloe. You and I are done.
Chloe: Traitor.
Okay, first off, “She and the likes of her only exist to suffer for my entertainment.”? That's the line you're going with? She sounds like a dark lord in an RPG game. How is this the closest thing we ever get to an explanation to why Chloe hates Marinette so much?
Second, ignoring the fact that we already had Chloe end her friendship with Adrien last season (Queen Banana), it's pretty weird that this is the breaking point in their friendship. Adrien doesn't mention all the other times she's bullied people or when she sided with Hawkmoth even when he brought up her time as Queen Bee. He saw her being mean to so many people over five seasons, yet only when he learns Chloe did something to his girlfriend that he decides to finally confront her. If we at least got a line where Adrien acknowledged that he essentially enabled Chloe for so long by thinking she could change, that would have at least sort of worked. Instead, he makes it about how she refused to change herself. Dude, you had the chance to stand up to her for years, and you even did so in one episode before you went back on it (Despair Bear). You have nobody to blame but yourself.
Finally, Chloe is pretty out of character here. She's way too calm about ending her friendship with Adrien compared to what happened in “Despair Bear” and “Queen Banana”. You'd think if the writers wanted this to be a big moment of catharsis for the audience, Chloe would at least beg Adrien to stay a little. But no, Chloe brushes it off when it could easily justify her getting worse in later episodes, and even Adrien doesn't even consider how much he thought Chloe's friendship meant to him. Because these writers are dedicated to making sure that any identifiable trait Chloe once had is removed so you have no choice but to hate her.
But hey, at least the episode's over. What did I think of it?
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Yeah, it wasn't very good.
I just... what else do you even want me to say here? I spent about ten pages going over why the flashback sequence doesn't work, I've already ranted about Cat Noir trying to kill someone with his Cataclysm in previous episodes (Hack-San, Jubilation), and I think you all know what my feelings on the portrayal of Chloe and Kim are.
I guess I can answer one question you may have: Is this episode worse than either “Penalteam” or “Queen Banana”? Eh, not really. Let me explain.
The problems with “Queen Banana” and “Penalteam” went beyond the treatment of Chloe with the way the stories were handled, with “Queen Banana” being a cheap jab at critics and TV executives while propping up their new character Zoe, and “Penalteam” being an excuse to have a soccer episode while making Cat Noir look like a buffoon right before the finale. Most of the problems with this episode have more to do with how they affect the way we see previous episodes, and why some scenes that were already unfunny are even less funny now.
With this episode, you can at least tell there was some effort being made to tell a more serious story here that went into what made Marinette tick. Yeah, it and the themes of mental health and trauma were handled about as gracefully as a ballet dancer trying to get a bear trap off their leg, but there's at least an attempt here.
Of course, this episode is still awful. The conflict with Kim not getting how much of a jerk he was after a year was dumb (as was him being even more of a jerk as Dark Humor), the fact that Marinette's trauma seemed to come and go when the plot needed it to really showed off how forced it is, and it only ends with you having more questions about Marinette and Chloe's rivalry rather than answering them.
While I'm still not a fan of this episode, and would still place it in my top five least favorites, I don't think it's the absolute worst. Although it's still the worst one so far this season from a technical standpoint.
THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS...KIM
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It says a lot when Cat Noir actually tried to murder someone in this episode, yet not only is he not even considered for the award this episode, the person he tried to kill ends up being the bigger idiot. Not only did he easily fall for Chloe's plan when she insulted him to his face, he failed to understand how it affected Marinette for a year, and when he was told about how bad it was, he refused to take responsibility for his actions, blamed it on other people not being able to take a joke, and only gave the smallest apology after he was almost killed for his attitude. It's honestly funny how he somehow comes across as more unlikable than Chloe, the character this episode was made to make you hate even more.
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twst-drabbles · 2 months
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Jade 6
Summary: By the built of his frame, it’s very easy to think that Jade had little to nothing to him. Laying your head on his lap, however, reminded you that Jade is a creature from the cold sea, and is built as such.
(I was taking coffee to get this near constant exhaustion out of me but the crashes are too harsh for me. So now I’m just sipping on decaf coffee. Also because, as it turns out, caffeine is a coin toss on whether it works or not. And that’s just not worth the crashes. This body is weird, truly.)
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After class, there was always this little slot of time where you and Jade don’t really have anything to do. During that single hour, you and Jade just like to sit in silence. Enjoy the breeze. Take in the scenery while being in the presence of one another.
And what better way to soak it all in than by laying your head on his lap.
“Hmm.” You moved your head this way and that, less getting comfortable and more just feeling.
“Is something wrong?” Jade traced patterns on your cheeks, like he was remembering a map he just finished marking a week ago.
“Nothing’s wrong,” you said, blindly pressing your fingers into the meat of his thigh, “Just surprised at how much leg you have. Length and width wise.”
You always figured him to be a skinny thing. Tall and skinny, especially with the way his uniform was basically tailor-fit to his figure. He certainly never gave off the air that he had extreme hidden muscles under them, but he wasn’t bony thin either.
Either way, you just never expected his thighs to have this much volume to them. Can’t even feel his bones.
“Lot of meat you got there Jade,” you squished his thigh some more, “you going to share?”
Jade laughed. You could feel it through his legs.
“Of course, but don’t take too much of me. I’m afraid I’ll need at least fifty percent of me if I want to survive the environment of my home.” Jade’s hand found yours. You both locked fingers.
“Ah, right.” You remember, for the brief time you’ve been there. If the pressure of the ocean didn’t bother you, the temperature most certainly did. Frigid, and no amount of clothing helped chase it away. Which made sense, since they were all wet with the same cold water. “I remember almost freezing to death there. And then getting sick once I got home. Makes sense all of you would have a lot of fat packed under the skin.”
“Exactly. Though the fat I have is a touch… different. Denser as you can probably feel. Such density allows us to survive without clothing, while humans like you need a potion to keep warm.”
“Very dense,” you turned your head and snuggled deeper, “very nice.”
“If you want a piece of me, then should I get a piece of you as well?” Jade’s voice was suddenly much closer. You blew air in his face.
“You’re going to have to fight for it, Jade.”
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m00nlight-ramblings · 10 months
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AU Halsin College Boyfriend Headcanon
Requested: yes
Actually obsessed with this AU. Halsin as a college student makes me laugh you know he would be the biggest party animal ever.
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This man is playing sports. I see like, football? But could really do any of them. He is a himbo and loves being on a team...his teammates are some of his best friends.
He leaves things in your dorm room, like it's an apartment...clothes, toothbrush, his favorite stuffed bear he loves to sleep with, snacks...
And in turn, he loves having your things at his place. He keeps all of your favorite snacks stocked, and it seems like every time you visit, he has a new little gift for you...slippers, new pjs, etc.
MOVIE NIGHTS. He loooooves watching movies with you, all snuggled in bed after dinner.
If he sees you walking across the quad, he will immediately b-line for you and walk you to your next class, even if it makes him late (its okay, his professors love him).
Be prepared to never carry your books or backpack ever again.
When it's a nice day on campus, he can be found on the lawn with a big group of people, hanging out on blankets and soaking up the sun.
Speaking of "big groups of people"...Halsin is someone who loves to meet all types of people, and is friends with everyone. He doesn't fit in with any clique, and he always invites everyone he knows to sit with him if he sees them in the cafeteria.
You two are known on campus as the College Sweethearts...everyone knows you'll be together forever and live happily ever after.
He somehow has managed to know where you sit every class, and every once and a while, you'll find a little candy/treat/card on your desk when you get into class. Just because.
He is definitely an environment science major.
Halsin throws the biggest and best (definitely most notorious) parties with his friends. I'm talking red solo cups on the lawn, possibly a broken window or two...absolutely wild.
And everyone is invited, of course.
He is not afraid to show PDA to you...stolen kisses in the hallway, holding your hand while you walk...he is proud to call you his partner.
You absolutely have to keep him on track with homework for every class, unless the class involves nature or animals. He has his definite interests, and if it doesn't fall into that category, he thinks there are much better things he could be doing.
Definitely loves weekend naps with you. If he's not at practice or class, he's snuggling with you under the blankets until the sun goes down.
Then, it's date night, which he always plans. Fancy dinners, long drives, the mall, going to museums...he loves doing everything with you.
His favorite drink at a party is a vodka Redbull. It just makes sense.
He makes sure you (and all his friends) have enough water while at house parties. He will NOT let you have a second drink on an empty stomach or without having at least 8 oz of water in between.
He decorates your dorm door for every holiday, to make sure you stay in the holiday spirit, no matter what holiday it is. (And also, just to cheer you up if you're feeling down or stressed with homework).
THE LOUDEST AT GAMES!!! If he's in the stands, he is SCREAMING in support.
You get a "ice cream?" text at least once a week from him at around midnight. Before you can even respond you hear a honk from your window and see him standing outside his car, ready to drive you to Dairy Queen.
Halsin LOVES making you playlists of songs that remind him of you, or ones that he thinks you'd like.
Always reps the college merch - sweatpants, sweatshirts, he loves it. He's proud he's in school!
He definitely chases the ducks at the school pond when he sees them.
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klausysworld · 11 months
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🏖️ w klaus?
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Much needed Vacation
Klaus loves to travel and after a thousand years of being on edge he was more than happy to relax for a while.
Since unlocking his werewolf side he was able to feel temperatures more, he would wear thicker clothes and added layers in the winter and had the desire to go shirtless everywhere in the summer. Not that I'm complaining but his siblings weren't the most fond.
Hope also found that she enjoyed the heat and so when I mentioned the idea of a vacation, the Mikaelsons were very excited. It was rare that the siblings were able to actually enjoy their luxuries but for the past for months everything had been lovely and calm and there was no sign of any threat for the near future.
So we flew first class, hired out a villa and claimed our rooms. Klaus had grabbed my hand and sped us to the biggest suit, bringing our bags and dropping onto the humongous bed with a pleased sigh.
I smiled and shut the door before opening our cases and beginning to put all our clothes on hangers and into the wardrobe. I could hear Klaus removing his clothes and pulling something else on, probably his swim trunks because Hope had been begging for them to go in the pool as soon as they arrived. I put our little wash bags into the bathroom and came back into the bedroom to see Klaus in his navy swim shorts and his wolf tooth necklace.
"You gonna go to the pool or the beach?" I asked as I sat beside him and traces my fingertips against the bare skin of his shoulders
"Pool, it's only the first day, I don't want sand to appear in all of my clothes for the next two weeks" he joked and I smiled widely. He just gazed at me for a moment before glancing to my shorts and t-shirt "are you coming?" he questioned with a tilt of his head
"Not today, it's already getting late and we agreed to cook the first night and to go out for food tomorrow. Elijah said he'd help." I explained and he hummed
"We can always go out for food, today, tomorrow, the whole holiday if you like. Don't stress about house tasks, just come relax, this was all your idea" he stood and tugged me by the wrist to stand which I did and I wrapped my arms around his neck
"I'm not stressing, I just want everything to go well. Besides if we eat out every day then it loses what makes it exciting" I reminded and he pouted
"Or it makes when you cook more special?" he offered and I gave him a look resulting in a sigh and a 'fine' before he gave me a kiss and disappeared out to the pool with Hope, Rebekah, Marcel, Kol and Freya whilst Elijah, Hayley, Davina and I were inside preparing food and inspecting the villa.
The first week consisted of nothing but the pool, snacks and sunbathing. The second week we began doing activities and taking day trips either all together or in groups or couples, plus Hope of course depending on who she wanted to spend the day with.
More often than not it was Klaus and I and whilst it was really sweet and we all had fun, I could see Klaus getting frustrated. We hadn't been intimate the entire vacation so far because someone was always awake during the night due to the heat and usually it was Hope. None of the walls were sound proof and the doors didn't have locks. Although Klaus was willing to risk it, I didn't want to traumatise Hope on her first family holiday.
But I knew he would burst soon. His hard non was permanent and he would press it against me at every possible opportunity, whispering dirty words or quietly begging for me to touch him. Klaus always went one way or the other when he got needy, either he got overly dominant or very submissive. I think this time, because the environment was to calm and everyone was happy, he became more subby and whiny for one-on-one attention rather then when he's agitated all the time and unable to grasp his emotions.
So I decided to check out the beach, people seemed to clear off in early evening for food and the entertainment facilities nearby so I planned to bring Klaus down around then.
I set up a blanket so we didn't have to sit on the burning hot sand and put a bottle of wine in a bucket of ice before going to get Klaus. I dragged him out with the promise of a surprise.
"Trust me okay? You'll like it" I told him as he huffed and puffed about wanting to know before we got there.
By the time we got there the sun was starting to set but the air remained hot, I lead him across the sand to the place I'd set up. His expression seemingly softened and a smile pulled at his pretty pink lips.
I pulled him down onto the blanket and kicked my sandals off. I lifted my dress off and put it on the edge of the blanket so that I was in only my bikini. I looked back to him to see him throwing his shirt away toward the sea and then his shorts so he was left in his briefs. I let out a short laugh and got onto my hands and knees, crawling on top of him and pressing him down by his chest.
His lips were on mine in a second though his kisses were much softer and more passionate than I expected if I were honest. His arms slid round my waist and his mouth opened as though begging for my tongue inside. I obliged of course and deepened the kiss, my knees squeezed his sides gently and my hands stroked at the stubble along the top of his neck and jaw to his face. I sucked gently at his tongue to make his groan. His hands wondered to untie the string keeping my breasts in place, the bikini top fell into him and then his hands moved to my bottoms. He tossed them away and whined into my mouth as he pressed his clothed dick between my legs.
I pressed my mouth firmly to his for a moment before pulling back to look between us and pull his briefs off his legs and to the sand. His hands were already pulling me back down via the back of my neck making me breath out a laugh and kiss at his lips until they were swollen and parted.
My hand stroked the length of his cock a few times to make sure he was ready but it was pretty obvious by now that he was more than ready.
I guided him inside me easily, letting out a relieved moan as he filled me inch by inch. He groaned and rocked his hips gently, his eyes closed and head falling back so our lips detached. I let out a hot breath and pressed against his chest, lifting myself up and bouncing slowly on his lap. I could see the sun starting to hide behind the softly crashing waves and the warm breeze skimmed over the both of us while we moved as one.
I could feel him pulsate inside me as his lashes fluttered against the apples of his cheeks and his swelled lips stayed parted to let out broken breaths of air. I tightened around him every few thrusts to watch his brows pull together. I smiled a lazy seeming smile as I rubbed my thumb in little circles on his sweat glazed chest.
"See? Told you...you'd...like it" I murmured breathlessly and he let out a chuckle and thrusted his hips up.
"mm love it" He whined and I grinned, moving a little faster so that my lower tummy began to twist pleasantly. His hands pulled at my hips to angle them differently, this position caused his tip to brush my spot and my hips to stutter before moving with more need.
He grunted and let out mumbled moans as he moved with more force. My hand fell forward to his side, landing in the sand instead of the blanket making me groan but clutch at the surface regardless. I could feel each grain brush between my fingers as the soft smack of his balls against my filled the air between our mix of panting.
I groaned when I felt my clit tingle and crave for attention. I dropped my spared hand down to where I needed and put my fingertips to use. I felt myself flutter around him and in response heard him let out a low moan. He squeezed my hips and rolled us over so he was on top.
"Klaus!" I whisper yelled when he pushed me into the sand, it all sticking to the pair of us.
"we'll sort it later" he muttered as he thrust his hips with more control and power. His pace quickened and his grip on my hips tightened as did I.
"Oh god" I whispered with a whimper. His face dropped to the side of my face, his soft lips pressing light kisses against my cheek and neck as I felt myself flood with warmth. I kept sliding my fingers over my clit, faster and faster until I felt that I couldn't stop. My sounds became a blur along with my vision as I listened to his encouraging whispers to let go.
"Fuck Nik, please-" I whined and he kissed my lips harshly. I let out a series of gasps when I felt him slam into my spot repeatedly, the heat from the air, the sand and our bodies all seemed to merge as I felt that powerful sensation rush through me and down my thighs as I let out a surprisingly loud cry of pleasure.
My hand slid out against the sand as my body went limp, legs falling to my sides and my face pressed into his chest. His breathing was heavy as thick ropes of cum shot into me without warning. My eyes were closed and I groaned slowly, my thighs trembled gently for a moment before I relaxed fully beneath him.
I could feel his warm hands cup my face and I slowly opened my eyes, smiling up at him as he kissed my lips softly.
“Thank you” I whispered and he chuckled softly
“It was your gift sweetheart, I should be thanking you” he corrected but I shook my head
“You did more” I whispered as he moves his hands under my back and lifted me up making me huff when sand fell from my hair.
“I really didn’t love but it’s sweet that you think so” he teased and I rolled my eyes
“Doesn’t matter” I mumbled and he smiled, holding me close making me wrap my arms around him.
We stayed on the beach for a while, trying to get as much sand off me as possible before getting up and trying to find out clothes.
Eventually we got back to the villa, everyone was in the pool and our food was sat waiting on the side making me smile as we took our plates to our room.
The rest of the week went perfectly and once we returned home we lasted another 3 full days before a major argument broke out and the longing for a holiday was back.
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melodramaticatheart · 5 months
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We Have A Deal - Lyra x Gray
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word count: 1.2k
book: the grandest game series
ship: lyra kane x grayson hawthorne
requested by anon!
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I adjust my crimson dress, the silky fabric whispering against my skin as I glance at Grayson. "You clean up nicely, Mr. Hawthorne," I remark, a hint of a smirk playing on my lips. I’d seen him with a suit on before but never one like this. The color reminds me of stormy clouds, like his eyes. It suits his personality perfectly. I silently chuckle at the wordplay, watching as Grayson parks in front of a valet. The car ride was silent, thirty-five excruciating silent minutes to be exact, it was no wonder why I was going insane making jokes to myself. 
Hawthorne boy had decided to take me out to dinner to discuss the next part of our plan. He’d showed up at my apartment three weeks ago saying he knew who I was and that he wanted to help with my dad’s mysterious suicide, all I want is to go home and regret ever calling him in the first place.
“Ms. Kane, are you going to get out of the car or will I have to carry you out?” I look at my now-open car door and see Grayson extending a hand. I must’ve been lost in thought. “No need Grayson,” I say, staring him right in the eye. I get out of the car without taking his hand. 
The first thing I pick up on is the faint noise of live music. Jazz music. “You like jazz, correct?” I spin to where Grayson is standing, watching me I realize. He looks at me closer waiting for an answer. “Yes I do, I've just never had the pleasure of hearing it live.” I hear the way my voice softens at that last part. I hate how much he knows about me. I was supposed to have the upper hand in this. I quickly dismiss the recurring thought and walk into the club without waiting for him. Sadly he catches up to me in three long strides. I walk beside him silently as he leads me to a booth at the corner of the club. Couples are dancing to the music closer to the back of the club while others enjoy their drinks at the bar to the side. It’s the band that gets my attention most of all. I’ve always wanted to listen to jazz live, but I’d never gotten the opportunity. Vinyls were the closest thing I could get to it. In one word it was electric. “How did you know I liked jazz?” The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. I turn to the blonde boy sitting in front of me looking for an answer. “The day I went to your apartment for the first time you were listening to the Time Out vinyl. I thought it would be better to bring you to an environment you could be comfortable in.” He’d picked up on that? I can barely remember what I had for breakfast yesterday, but he can remember what music I was listening to three weeks ago? I shift in the booth not knowing how to respond so instead I change the subject. “I’m going to get a drink, do you want anything?” I stand up running a hand through my dress. “An espresso martini,” Grayson says, looking at me. My eyebrows shoot up. “You drink?” “Rarely, but I think I’m going to need it if I have to deal with you all night” I scowl at his response, making my way to the bar. I order quickly, making my way to our table to continue our impending conversation. “Ok, Hawthorne boy, why did you bring me here?” I say shooting him a look. He takes a sip before hitting me with a question instead of an answer. “Are your classes starting soon, Lyra?” I straighten not expecting that. “They start in two months,” I respond watching as Grayson takes a sip of his espresso before setting it aside. “You want to know what my family has to do with your father's suicide, well it’s not that easy Ms. Kane.” “Nothing’s ever easy with you, Hawthorne boy.” I retort staring him in the eye. “But I’m assuming you didn’t drive me thirty-five minutes to tell me that” A sly smirk starts making its way to my lips.
Grayson’s eyes glint in the dim light of the club. “Maybe I just wanted to bring a pretty girl to a jazz club.” He tilts his head, looking every bit the white rich boy persona I imagine him to be. But I can’t dwell on the fact he just called me pretty because he’s pulling his phone out of his pocket to show me something. “I found this in my family’s home, I thought you’d find it interesting.” He holds out his phone to a picture of a file named Thomas Thomas. “This isn’t my dad,” I say flatly after scanning the page's content.  
“Are you sure?” 
“Positive.”
Grayson shifts in his seat taking another sip of his espresso. It was clear he didn’t drink alcohol often with the way his eyes watered at the taste. “Your little riddle and this file are our only clues, at the moment.” He says trying to think of something to say.
I’m about to say something when he cuts me off making me shut my mouth once more. “I have a proposition for you. I’ve been debating it but I don’t see any other way I can help you.” He seems to pause a second before sharing with me his idea. “Every year my family hosts some sort of game this year it’s private. That means we can pick our contestants unlike last year-” “Grayson I know all this. What does that have to do with us?” I cut him off confused with where he’s taking this. He only stares at me. 
That’s when I realize I said ‘us’ as in me and him. A team. I sink back into the booth until he responds. “This year the game is a little different” I watch how he traces the outline of his cup “I want you to be in the games this year.” I can’t help it I burst out laughing, me on an island for two weeks, yeah right “I’m sorry I need a moment, I can’t take you seriously,” I look up to see Grayson’s straight face. The laughter bubbles up again. I wipe at the tears in my eyes before taking a sip of my wine. “No” “Why not? You’d be getting paid, you’d be comfortable, and we would be close so we could work together to figure out more. Plus I’d have more resources there with me.” I watch as he lists the reasons. Good reasons. “Grayson no, I can’t, look they are good reasons but I have a life, I have my mom who would go insane if I didn’t text for two weeks, it won’t work.” I can’t leave my life not when I have her depending on me. “I want to help Lyra I do, it’s been eating at me. And I won’t be able to rest until I’m sure you’re at peace.” He stares at me with those stupid pretty eyes of his. I look away trying to collect myself. 
“If I do this, you have to promise me I'll be able to contact my mom at least once a day.” 
“Deal”
“Ok then Hawthorne Boy, I guess I am one to play games after all.”
⊹‿︵‿୨ི୧‿︵‿⊹
THATS THAT ME ESPRESSO
this is my longest one shot ever but idk i hate my writing 😭
taglist: @heqrtlcss, @reminiscentreader, @urbanflorals, @lyrakanefanatic, @mrswarnerxo
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I'm still here ngl..
*
Listen, I see this and feel so much happiness. Jimin dancing, showing who he is, showing the versatility of his style and giving us just a glimpse into the extensive, vast range of his talent.
There's been some revisionism happening regarding BTS that's ratcheted up in the last three years or so. I can't be the only person who's noticed it. People more forcefully asserting things about the members that are just plain absurd, like saying this or that member isn't that talented, or that xyz member has this massive character failing that's only just apparent now for some reason, or that things they've said and done aren't actually the case. After FACE, I noticed people saying shit like Jimin can't sing and can't dance...
That reminds me, I went to a cup-sleeve event in June for another group and someone told me to my face Jimin can't dance and I almost uppercut that bitch. It ticked me off but I didn't actually assault her. What I did instead was ask her to explain what she meant, told her I disagreed, and showed her why by playing Jimin's Black Swan solo DP. She took back her initial claim and said she'd just been in a k-pop group online and all those people were saying is how none of the BTS members are that talented especially Jimin who apparently can't sing to save his life and whatever dancing he can do is limited to a few moves from 6 years ago.
Plain insanity.
Jimin, out of the kindness of his sweet, magnanimous heart, is giving the amnesia patients a crash course in who he is. He's reminding people he is Park Jimin of BTS. The dancer who joined a nearly bankrupt agency, had the shortest training period in that agency's history, and with the least resources, and debuted as the main dancer and lead singer of what is now the biggest group in the world. The man who critics from all over the world laud as a virtuoso, in voice, dance, and performance. His voice has brought men to their knees, calmed babies, enchanted concert halls, made stadiums full of people cry out in pure joy. There's nobody alive or dead like Park Jimin, and the fact we all get to exist in the same time as him is a blessing too many people (for my liking) take for granted.
ThisIsJimin is a gift I'm thankful to Jimin for giving us again.
*
Anyway, I was watching that clip again with a friend and she pointed out how cool the dance practice room was. Noted how it's a massive improvement from the old BigHit halls that had mold growing on the walls and water dripping on live wires in the back. It's taken years, hard work by the members, good business sense from BigHit/HYBE, and a lot of my own hard-earned money as well as the resources (time, money, otherwise) from ARMYs over the years to get to this point - and I just want to say, speaking for myself, even though I still see massive room for improvement, I feel very happy with the state of things.
HYBE is cultivating a solid roster of talent built on BTS's hard work. The world-class facilities in the building is the first good sign, as well as the talent now being fostered there. I love the quality of the army of dancers Jimin had access to for his SMF Pt2 performances, I love that NewJeans is doing so well that Riot Games sought them to feature on their new World's anthem, I love that a whole new generation of incredible groups are growing in the environment created by BTS's own trials and success.
BOYNEXTDOOR is a group that continues to have my attention because all six boys are just that good. They posted their dance practice for Crying today (my favourite song from a rookie group in 2023), and I noticed they did it in a similar dark coloured dance practice room Jimin filmed his #ThisIsJimin choreo in. And that really just put a very silly smile on my face for a reason I can't pinpoint yet.
youtube
*
Maybe it's aftereffects from the Jimin Effect after streaming his reel as hard as I'm streaming Indigo lately.
I see the asks you send, about Golden, JK in general, jokers, this or that thing happening in fandom, and I'll get to them at some point but I don't want to talk about them right now. Because I'm still stuck on Jimin showcasing himself in that air conditioned, world class dance practice room that's only possible because of his hard work, tenacity, talent, and love for his group.
I'm still stuck on Jimin and legit cannot move on. He's such a beast. Such a calculating, proud, stubborn, and kind beast of a man.
I'm not sure what's going on with me.
We're in Jimtober so maybe his juju is just extra strong and I can't escape his grip no matter what I try. Anyway, it's a good idea to stream FACE, allow yourself to re-experience his album, check out his other solos as well (played Christmas Love over the weekend and realized it sounds even better on low frequency speakers), and eat a lot of spicy food followed by warm/hot drinks because Jimin is curious about such things (and it really does work).
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aibidil · 1 year
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Neurodivergent Design
I've found neurodivergent design principles so helpful in creating a more livable environment. Sharing in case it helps others. The basic idea is that we need to design our space for the brain we have, not the person society tells us we "should" be. Like with everything else, life is better when you accept yourself rather than trying to change or follow scripts that do not fit. Some examples! (I realize this assumes a house/car/life like my middle-class American one, but the same principles apply regardless.)
Store your socks where you store your shoes. Socks live in the garage.
If there's a spot in your bedroom always piled with half-dirty clothes and it's bothersome because it's messy, get a nice basket expressly for that purpose
If you never fold/hang your clothes despite intending to, get open-front bins and intend to store them that way
Always forget your sunglasses? Keep them in your car/bag.
Keep the sunscreen in your car because you'll forget to put it on when you're home. (Likewise, other things that you only use out but are likely to forget--camp chair? Picnic blanket? They live in the trunk.)
Always run out of phone/laptop battery on the couch? Install a permanent laptop and phone cable there. (Mine can be tucked between the cushions when not in use!)
Keep your toothbrush in the downstairs bathroom if you always remember when you're about to run out the door
Never going to use a fancy dining room? That can be a craft room or an office. Who says it's gotta be a dining room?
Keep the workout stuff where you can use it as easily as possible
Trash piles up somewhere? Get a small can, who cares if it's in the middle of the room
Always realize you're thirsty upstairs when you're far from the tap? Get a big water jug up there. Likewise, put plant-watering stuff (watering can, fertilizer, spray bottle) on every floor you have plants...Likewise, keep cleaning stuff next to every toilet/vanity so you can do a quick clean if you notice it needs it
Always leave your knitting shit all over one room? Don't store your knitting supplies in a DIFFERENT room. (Major @ at me for not realizing this for a year+)
Set location- or time-based reminders if you need help remembering any of these
These are all so obvious but often don't occur to us because we don't frame these issues as unsolved problems, instead we think of them as firm evidence of our failures. They're not. They're just a chance to use that awesome, creative problem-solving.
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imagineanime2022 · 5 months
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Your Beautiful
Ayame Sohma X Reader
Word Count: 1744
Requested: @twilightlover2007
Request: I'd love to see Ayame with a plus size bookwormish girlfriend who is a little (or a lot) self conscious about what she wears and Aya will have NONE of that. Perhaps he designs a dress just for her to surprise her and make her see herself as he does. Please and thank you!!
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Ayame had known you since you were in school, you never really crossed paths though, considering his more popular status and your more quiet disconnection from the popular scene. Ayame had always wanted to talk to you but never found the right time, everytime he shared a room with you people flocked to him and all he could do was watch you from afar. When you did talk to someone your eyes cast down to the floor and voice softer than silk. He watched you from afar as it seemed to blossom in your own environment, only catching his eye every now and again, eyes flitting back to the floor or book you were holding when you realised that he was looking right back at you.
Ayame remembered the first time that he was alone with you, you had both been paired for a project, you knowledge on the subject was immense and while you claimed that it only came from the books that you read, the fact that you had finished a book impressed him all the same, especially since at that age you wouldn’t find him sitting still for anyone. This was also the first time that he got an inkling for the way that you felt about yourself, he had at first assumed that you just didn’t like the uniform which was why you seemed so uncomfortable in it, and in most ways he was right. When you weren’t dressed in your uniform there was not that was shown off to the world, you covered your body in baggy clothes he assumed to hide it, though he never asked. Now he thought that those clothes were cute, he loved coming over to work on the project to see you curled up in the large oversized jumper, legging clad legs tucked under you and out of sight but he did look forward to the school days as well, those were the days that he could really appreciate the figure that you hide so often,
After leaving school he lost contact with you for a long while, that is until he opened his shop, he was looking for a supplier of fabrics and stumbled across your small business, he recognised you immediately if not for your appearance but the book tucked under your arm and the way that your eyes flitted to the floor the same as when you were both kids. “Still have trouble looking people in the eye it seems.” He joked, your eyes widened as you looked up at him. “You remember me?” You asked. “Of course, we’ve not been out of school that long, and he had almost every class together.” He reminded you. “Well no but, I’m no one important-” “Nonsense dear, you are just as important as the next person, not to mention you’ll be the one providing the materials I need for my shop… Can I count on you for that?” He asked. “O-of course.” You nodded. “Perfect.” He smiled softly “now could I trouble you to run me through what you have available at the moment?” “It’s no trouble.” You informed him as you ushered him through the shops going through everything that you had, what was easier to get and what was a little harder to acquire given your location, Ayame need anything further he pitched a partnership to get both your businesses off the ground, you accepted much to his excitement and that was where you found yourself now.
You made your way into his shop sample tiles stowed away in a small bag, he had informed you that he was working on a new project and all he needed was for you to bring over your favourite materials, you walked in at the same time as some other customers, one of them barging passed you to get to the counter, you stumbled slightly clutching the sample squares to your chest as you tried to balance yourself “Move.” She ordered. “S-sorry.” You mumbled stepping out of her way, falling back into an old habit of looking at the floor. “Why would you be here, it’s not like you could wear anything that Ayame makes.” The girl sneered as her eyes snagged on the sample squares assuming you were a customer. “S-sorry I’ll just-” “Now what is it that you are apologising for my sweet dove?” You jumped at the sound of Ayame as he stood behind you, when you didn’t say anything you felt him lean down “I’m talking to you dear.” You gave a small embarrassed squeak at the proximity before stuttering out an answer. “I-I, they are your customers you should see to them.” You finally managed to say, he looked at the girls and waved her away. “She’s no customer of mine.” Ayame answered. “You can’t-” “I won’t have you supplying materials for someone who treats you this way and I won’t be sourcing my materials anywhere else.” He explained. “Ayame you can’t-” “I can.” He answered firmly, the group looked at him in shock before being escorted out of the shop. “Ayame, they were paying customers, you can’t do that!” You scolded him, he just smiled down at you. “I own this shop, I can do what I want. I have enough paying customers to turn away those who don’t deserve my service.” He waved you off, dragging you towards the back room gesturing for you to sit on the sofa. “So show me what you’ve brought.” “I brought a couple of options, you know since you didn’t really give me any direction, who is the client this time anyway?” You asked. “That doesn’t matter, she has very similar taste to you, I think that she will love whatever you choose, so of these three which do you like the most?” He asked. You looked at the three samples that you had picked out, one subtle in design and colour, another a little more chaotic but still softly coloured and the last calmer in design but the colours were a little more flashy, you pointed to your favourite one and he nodded as he held it up. “I like this, this will work.” “Are you going to show me what you are working on?” You asked, he smiled and shook his head. “You will see it when it’s finished.” He promised “Now that the business is out of the way, how are you?” He changed the subject, stirring away from work and into more casual conversation.
It was a couple months later Ayame rushed into your shop, you had been restocking the shelves after an eventful first half to the day, you turned expecting a customer and some ways you weren’t wrong but when you looked at him you knew that there was something wrong. “Ayame are you okay? What’s wrong?” You asked, he reached behind him turning the sign on your door to ‘closed’ before pulling you into the back room, it was then that you realised that he was holding something. “Ayame?” “(Y/N).” He said as he turned to look at you, you frowned when you noticed the tears gathering in his eyes. “Your acting weird what’s-” You were cut off by him pulling you into a tight hug, it almost felt like he had been waiting years to do this but that couldn’t have been true, there was nothing stopping him from doing it years ago if that was what he wanted. “Ayame?” “I’ve waited so long to do that.” He admitted and that caused you to truly frown. “I don’t understand.” You decided that admitting it would be easier than trying to figure it out on your own. “I know, I’m sorry but just know that I’ve wanted to do this for years.” He said into your shoulder before finally letting you go, “I have something to give you.” “Give me?” You asked. “Mmm.” He hummed holding up the bag that he had walked in with, you took it from him and looked inside, you recognised the material as the sample that you had picked out months ago. “I thought this was for a client. Why are you giving it to me… Did they not like it?” You asked. “Take it out.” He prompted, you lifted the absolutely stunning clothing set out of the bag. The top was form fitting and the bottom to go with it would sit snugly on your hips and shoe off the shaping of your legs perfectly. “Do you like it?” “It's a beautiful set.” You answered. “Then they liked it, will you try it on for me?” He asked. “T-try it on?” You asked. “I know that you are going to look ravishing.” He said holding the set in front of your body as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Even if you only ever wear it for me, know that you are safe to wear whatever you want and try whatever you want, I just want to see you.” “It won’t be as exciting as you think, I’m not like the other girls.” You answered and he shook his head. “I don’t want you to be like the others, I want you to be comfortable, I want to show you that are beautiful and you always have been whether you dressed down for a days work-” he pulled the outfit away from you to show you the outfit you were wearing “-or dressed up.” He offered you the outfit again and you took his from his hand walking to the bathroom to get changed. You cleared your throat when you walked out causing him to look over at you, the smile that split his face was genuine as he held up his phone snapping a picture before turning it to show you. “That’s me?” It sounded like a question even to you. “That’s you and you are beautiful.” He said softly, hugging you again “please give me the chance to prove it to you.” “You are doing a great job so far.” You smiled. “I’m far from done my dear.” He promised pressing a kiss to your cheek, he knew that he wasn’t going to change you overnight, you could tell by the way that he looked at you, he was proud of you for even putting the new outfit on and it was then that you decided that you would be happy seeing that look for the rest of you life, if he’d allow it.
Request Here!!
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therainscene · 2 years
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The first time I saw this shot from the van scene, I thought, “oh no, Jonathan knows. And he looks troubled. Is Will’s sexuality going to be an issue for him? Is he going to be a dick about it? I’m sure he’d never hate crime his brother, but...”
Then we got the pizzeria heart-to-heart, in which Jonathan wins the Best Ally of All Time Award and gives Will the most cathartic hug I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing. It’s probably my favourite moment in the whole show.
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Because of course this is how Jonathan would react. Of course the guy who always encouraged Will to be himself, who even subtly queer-coded his reassurances on the off-chance that was something Will needed to hear, would be accepting and supportive. Of course that troubled look was because he was angry at himself for being too much of a stoner to notice his bestie suffering in silence.
It was a sobering moment. I knew all this about Jonathan going into the van scene, yet I still walked away from it assuming the worst. I was acting like one of those reddit bros who insist that nothing nice is allowed to happen to the long-suffering gay character because it “wouldn’t be realistic” for a show set in the 80s.
It got me thinking: is Will being similarly paranoid?
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Look at his reaction when Jonathan assures him that he will always love and accept him no matter what... you can see fear, hope, and relief all flooding through him.
It’s like he can’t believe this is really happening, that Jonathan knows what he is and continues to love him anyway.
S4 is the first season in which Will doesn’t have to contend with any supernatural bullshit. Gone are the horror metaphors: his struggles are mundane and depicted entirely literally. But the pizzeria scene still strongly reflects the endings to the supernatural arcs from S1 and S2: with loved ones seeing him in torment and reaching out, reminding him of how deeply and unconditionally loved he is by them.
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(They were extremely unsubtle about this.)
By S4, this boy who’s been targeted by homophobic bullies for as long as he’s been at school is willing to stand up in front of his class and openly identify with a gay historical figure. He even tries to confess his feelings to a boy who (in his estimation) is likely to reject him. Via a portrait with a heart on it! That’s damning physical evidence!
If he can do these dizzyingly ballsy things in a homophobic 80s environment, then surely he’s ready to come out to those trusted loved ones who have demonstrated their love for him time and time again. He could have laid the groundwork for confessing to Mike by coming out to him first, but he didn’t. He could have officially come out to Jonathan during the pizzeria scene, but he didn’t. Why not?
Why is acting gay in a hostile environment somehow easier than coming out to his loved ones?
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I think this is why the GA tend to believe that Will’s arc is about being accepted, rather than about scoring a romance with Mike -- because he really does have issues with acceptance!
What the GA tends to miss, though, is how the platonic love he’s received for four seasons now is not enough. It’s important, to be sure, and it helps for a while... but the demons just keep coming back. He still feels like a mistake.
If Mike rejects him romantically but continues loving him platonically... well, that’s nice, but would it really be any different from all the other times he’s been showered with platonic love? Why would such a bittersweet scenario be the one time platonic love finally defeats his demons once and for all?
Jonathan told Will that it’s okay to be gay... but Mike’s the only person who can show him that it’s true.
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greenerteacups · 6 months
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GTC how could you, this broke my heart 😭
“I had no choice! Are you joking? You’re Lord Malfoy! A real boy, with real parents, a real life! Saint Draco of Gryffindor Tower, always sneering, always lording over the high ground! First man in history to get Snape and McGonagall wrapped around his fucking pinky, with your perfect marks and your prefect's badge and your do-gooder pals — you’ve had a good life all but shoved down your throat, and you still think you have the right to talk about hard choices? Sorry to trouble you, sir, but I’m Theodore fucking Nott, and I broke the world. And you’re free. So don’t talk to me about death sentences.”
also i LOVE that draco has both severus snape and minerva mcgonagall wrapped around his pinky, making this little piece of GTC-canon my whole personality now 🥹
Thank you, beloved. Loved writing that scene, so glad you enjoyed/despaired entirely at it.
While I also am tickled by the concept, you reminded me of what I liked about that tiny little Snape/McGonagall comparison. (This isn't to say it's wrong, there's just Layers to it that I wanted to ramble about.) Contextually, it comes packaged inside a broader declaration about how Theo sees Draco — that is, an idealized lightning-rod for Theo's envy and pent-up frustrations about his own life — which is at a stark contrast with Draco's perspective. While Snape's favoritism is pretty easy to infer from the godfather-relationship and the fact that Snape just... generally is not slick with it (#Slytherin) I think the McGonagall part is way more informative about how transactionally Theo sees student-professor relationships! We don't know exactly what he's thinking about here — is he just assuming that Draco gets McGonagall's favor because he's a Gryffindor, leading off that remark about "Gryffindor Tower"? Or is he talking about McGonagall and Draco's relationship personally, in which case: why? McGonagall doesn't interact personally with Draco (or any particular student) often outside of class environments, and even though McGonagall clearly likes some people more than others, she's not unfair, and she doesn't abuse her power to favor them. Even when she bends the rules to give Harry a broomstick, she makes a point of trying to avoid outright breaking them (though not unrelatedly, Draco strongly believes that Harry is McGonagall's favorite, cf. "Summer's End.") And Theo doesn't even know about that incident!
So if Theo is actually making a remark about McGonagall personally, he's likely basing it on on the fact that (1) Draco is a prefect, (2) plays on the quidditch team (McGonagall's somewhat obvious soft spot), (3) is generally competent in class, or, (4) he's seeing a fondness in McGonagall's interactions with Draco that Draco doesn't. (4) is both possible and likely, considering how often Draco is surprised by the fact that people like him. (He's not good at reading affection if it isn't effusive fawning or communicated by insult.) But it's a far, far jump from that to "wrapped around your finger" by any stretch of the imagination, because: Minerva McGonagall? In what universe?
But to the point, the comment isn't really about McGonagall, anyway. Theo's flattening Draco's relationship with her down to a system of patronage, like the ones he's used to; it's not a mentoring bond between two people, it's just another shiny thing Draco has that he doesn't, and he shows that by describing it in terms of what Draco might be able to get out of it. It's not "she likes you," it's "wrapped around your finger," implying the possibility for manipulation and use. He's envious of Draco because Draco has options, and his access to authority figures who care about him broadens those options even more. Theo, meanwhile, is functionally orphaned, and the only person in the castle he can count on for political support is Umbridge. So there's a sort of emotional underbelly beneath that particular jab.
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