#then wife was like 2 text bubbles down and i had wasted my time
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So I'm still salty we don't have canonical malewife Gonja and did a thing
#please i spent way too long on this#idk what the font is so i had to do this by copying individual letters#then wife was like 2 text bubbles down and i had wasted my time#BUT ANYWAYS#kim gongja#raviel ivansia#canon malewife behaviour/pos#ssscsh#sssrv#sss class revival hunter#sss class suicide hunter#im so tempted to just remake the whole romance arc with malewife/girlboss gonja&raviel#but like idk if it would be rude to upload that after groups have done actual translation n shi
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Addicted to You
Pairing: Mob Boss! Sam Wilson x Reader
Word Count: 932
Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. Angst, Allusions to danger, talk of addiction, but not really. Substance use, partying, fake friendships, toxic parents, a sad, famous life, pining, peeing while on the phone, request for rough sex, Sam has a big soft spot for reader despite who she is, Rumlow! reader.
A/N: No one asked for this, but this is in the same AU as Try a Little Tenderness and The Representative. The AU is called This Thing of Ours.
I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.
I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
——-
You were bored beyond measure.
There was also an indeterminate itch under your skin that you needed to scratch.
It happened every time you were in New York.
Like an addict, proximity to your drug of choice had you quietly feening, even though you’d found some safer, more life affirming substitutes.
The paparazzi swarmed you and your girls, and you gave them face although you were behind your designer sunglasses.
You knew that your body, clad in a skintight exclusive dress, the faux fur dripping off your arms, and the 24 inch weave flowing down your shoulders was what they were paid for.
The photogs called your name, ignoring the beauty of the crew around you as you entered the club.
Despite that, your girls bubbled up at the sight of the exclusive club and the other famous faces that turned to stare at you. The owner came over to greet you and lead you up to the VIP. Once settled, the popping of bottles commenced.
You knew why the girls around you stayed close, but you played the bestie game so as not to be alone.
Because that would mean you’d have to think.
“Damnnn… Y/N! That one guy from TMZ sure was sweating where D was tonight. You’d think he was dating him.”
The way Starr cut her eyes at you confirmed that she was the one sweating your latest beau.
You pulled out the phone that had your face plastered all over Times Square with ads and threw it on the table.
“Well maybe I should have let him answer my phone, because D has been blowing me up all night.”
Starr picked up the phone and scrolled through your notifications as Eve looked over her shoulder.
“Dammmm Son!” Eve shouted. “You got this man quadruple texting and shit, and calling too? Yo! Teach me the ways of that golden pussy.”
You laughed, flipped her off and took another drink of champagne.
You didn’t tell them any of what your other taught you. Ways to get a man and keep him, things to say and what not to say, how to eat, keep fit, but still make it all look natural. And yes, pointers on what to do in bed. Your mother was a piece of work, but she was sitting in a life of ease now. Even if her husband was a grade A asshole.
Your mother worked her way from being a drug runner’s girl to being the famous wife of a celebrated television personality, whom everyone (who didn’t know him personally) loved. He was everyone's uncle, and a multimillionaire.
Once the bag was secured, your mother made him adopt you, even though you were already 19, stating that because your father was dead, it was only right. But you knew it was only to have his powerful last name.
You carried the name around with you like the Hope diamond, and it allowed you access to handsome and talented musicians and rappers and actors for the last 8 years.
You were your mother’s dream, and your stepfather's prize. But you would always be a Rumlow at heart.
You were a gangsta.
Kiki’ing with the girls only fostered your boredom so you got wasted, literally dancing on the tables as the wee hours approached.
Around 2 am, you stumbled to the bathroom by yourself, your girls all wasted or having been picked up by the club’s clientele.
Once safe in a stall, and while you were peeing, you pulled your real phone out of your purse.
You closed your eyes and prayed as it rang. His sleepy voice answered.
“‘Lo.”
He sounded unsurprised at your call.
“Come get me baby. I’m at Knack. In SoHo.”
There were a few seconds of silence.
“What would your man have to say about that?”
You sucked your teeth.
“Now I know you’re not worried about him. Did you mean my brother? Brock?”
“You mean your half brother? Rumlow? Fuck him.”
You wiped and flushed the toilet.
“Why do you always call me when you’re in the bathroom?”
You heard rustling as he asked the question and your heart leapt that he might be getting dressed.
“Because what you and I have is so intimate, baby.”
You used your sexiest, sluttiest voice in him as you checked your makeup in the mirror. Of course it didn’t work. He laughed.
“Or maybe it’s because you’re full of shit. Meet me out behind the kitchen in 20 minutes.”
——
20 minutes later, a black R8 pulled up outside the kitchen entrance. All of the kitchen crew bid you goodnight as you climbed into the passenger seat. You’d spent the time waiting learning how to make risotto.
The car pulled out and headed toward Brooklyn. You greeted your man. Well, your man in your head.
“Damn, Baby. You smell so good.”
Sam’s gap-toothed grin did you in, as well as the side eye he gave you. He looked over at you and shook his head.
“You’re gonna be the death of me.”
You watched the muscles in his arm as he shifted gears.
“Literally.”
“Don’t be like that Sammy. Just take me to your place and fuck me real good. Hard. All night long. Make me forget my name.”
Your hand was on his muscular thigh and moving north. You told yourself that you craved his control, his hand on the column of your throat while he filled you to the brim.
Sam cleared his throat, clearly tempted. Then he moved your hand back to your lap, and again shook his head. He knew what you said you wanted, but he also knew what you needed.
“No. You’re wasted. What you can do is sleep in my bed tonight.”
He glanced over as you pouted and pretended to be mad.
But a night in Sam Wilson’s arms was the fix you’d been needing.
#sam wilson x black!reader#sam wilson#sam wilson imagine#sam wilson x reader#sam wilson x you#sam wilson x y/n#mob boss! sam wilson#mon boss! sam wilson x Rumlow! reader#this thing of ours au
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something angsty with tenya leaving fem reader for the event? ty! prompt: “you can’t leave me. i don’t know how to survive without you.”
“𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞. 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮.” + tenya iida
a/n: bro… i don’t really like angst without the potential for a somewhat happy ending so i hope you’re ok with the fact that it’s not completely sad. i did pull on the heartstrings quite a bit tho, i hope you enjoy! check out the event here
contains: angst (obviously), iida being heavily influenced by his family, tensei to the rescue lowkey, crying, insecurities, mentions of alcohol, ambiguous ending, miscommunication
length: 2.0k
at first things had started off small.
iida worked long hours as the work of his brother’s hero agency fell on his shoulders. he tried his best to make time for you, but it always felt like your schedules could never line up just right.
you tried to work something out, quick calls on break times and cute messages around the house to remind you of one another, but most efforts fell flat.
then things started to get worse.
long and empty nights were spent building up resentment towards the man you had married. he was always doing something, something that took precedence over the vows you made when you walked down the isle no more than three years ago.
you knew his family didn’t like you that much, feeling that a marriage for love was a waste of such a powerful commitment. a commitment that could built them an empire, and boost the rank of their hero agency, solidifying a legacy for them.
tenya defied them for you, boldly declaring that he would marry whoever he wanted and that you were in it for the long haul. you were the girl of his dreams, he said, and anything that got in the way of his happiness was not something he would subscribe to. that only made them hate you more.
so when his texts of encouragement grew shorter and more sparse, and he began to have more special responsibilities bestowed upon him by none other than his father, you knew it was on purpose.
unfortunately, it was an effective strategy to chip away at a young and unseasoned marriage.
“tenya can you please just check your schedule? i really want to spend more time with you.”
he sighed and rubbed his temples as he sat in his office. why were you bothering him with something so insignificant? you knew how important this transition of power was for the iida family, for the legacy of ingenium, but you still persisted.
he could feel the anger beginning to build until he looked in your eyes and saw the sadness brimming in them. his heart squeezed in his chest as he watched you, his wife, plead with him to spend time together. when had things come to this?
“i’ll try my best, but i cant promise anything.”
at this point, that was better than anything you could’ve hoped for.
with a kiss to his forehead you left him alone to get the heaps of paperwork he had to do, spirits lifted at the prospect of spending time with him again. just like the way it used to be.
you checked the time on the microwave for the 9th time. fifty-seven minutes had passed and your husband was officially late.
you should have seen it coming really, empty promises were becoming more and more common amongst the two of you. he would promise to try harder and you would promise to cut him more slack, the constant push and pull never being enough for either party.
getting up from the barstool at your kitchen island you made your way to the wine cooler to get a drink. not even bothering to pick up a glass you slumped on the couch, kicking off your shoes and splaying yourself out, just wanting the cushions to swallow you whole and dull the aching in your heart.
he wasn’t coming.
he was never coming.
you laid passed out on the couch when iida finally came home 2 hours later. he was only stopping by for a quick break, then going back out on patrol and he completely forgot about the things he said, smiling through tired eyes as he thought, this time i’ll make it up to her.
at the very least he could clean you up and tuck you in. he could brace himself for the impending fight later, but he was concerned about you. you never drank, not unless there was something wrong.
iida easily hoisted you up over his shoulder, discarding the various wine bottles and taking you to your shared room, although he wasn't sure if it was still considered shared anymore.
he laid you on the bed softly, changing you into one of his old shirts. his fingers ghosted over your cheek as he watched you sleep, the reality of where he was sitting heavy on his heart.
he loved you and yet there was nothing he could do to help at this moment. he had to leave for night patrol. he had to leave you.
his gentle touches roused you from your sleep and your eyes felt heavy as you tried to blink them open.
“you came?” you breathed, voice sounding foreign even to yourself.
iida gave you a small smile, “im sorry.”
your demeanor did a 180 at his apology. he was sorry. he was always sorry. but sorry couldn’t fix this. not when it had been so broken.
you winced and sat up, “sorry for what? sorry that you broke your promise for the thousandth time or sorry that you’ve been such a shit husband for the past few months?!”
“______-”
“no tenya. you do this every single time! every time i want to spend time with you theres always something more important! what could be more important than your wife?!”
“______ you know my father-”
you laughed bitterly at the mention of his dad. he always had to be such a good little iida child, always on daddy’s beck and call. it made you sick.
“your father doesn’t even want us to be together! cant you see that he’s doing this on purpose! youre a grown man! not a child permanently tied to his mommy and daddy!” you spat
“hes giving more responsibility for the sake of the agency! for the ingenium legacy! why are you always so selfish when it comes to these things?”
“selfish? selfish?” you asked, incredulous. you couldn’t believe your ears.
“yes selfish. do you know how much i sacrificed to be with you? how much i already have on my plate on top of trying my best to make time for you?”
you stared in astonishment.
sacrifice?
what had he sacrificed for this relationship? he got to do what he wanted, come and go as he pleased with virtually no regard for how you felt or what you did. what sacrifice was there in that way of living?
“fuck you, tenya.”
tenya took a deep breath and ran his hand down his face. he chose his words carefully before finally saying, “i cant do this. im leaving.”
you could hear a pin drop in the room. you felt your blood pound in your ears as you stood up quickly, dizzy from the alcohol but still trying to process the words you had just heard.
leaving?
“youre leaving?”
“yes, i have to go. im not doing this with you, not now.”
your heart felt like it had been smashed by a sledgehammer, as you tried to regulate your breathing. leaving. he was leaving.
“w-wait,” you feebly attempted to cling onto him as he gathered a few of his things.
“tenya you cant leave me.”
“_____ i do not want to do this right now,” he sighed, easily shaking you off and moving to collect more things. his words were buzzing around on the inside of your skull. he was leaving.
leaving without so much of a second thought. he had been planning this. still unsteady on your feet you hobbled after him as quickly as possible, desperation taking over every fiber of your body. you didn't want to lose him, you just wanted your husband back, you happiness back.
“y-you cant do that! you cant leave me! i dont know how to survive without you, tenya, please-”
“_____, just go to bed. you’re drunk.”
you trailed him around the house,“no, you don’t get to decide when this is over. i'm the one whos been hurting for months you cannot just leave me by myself.”
iida spared you one last glance before grabbing his bag, “goodbye, _____”
crushed, you sank to your knees, leaning on the couch for support. you felt like you were dying., hell, you probably were dying. you had never had so much to drink in your life, and you were desperate to make the pounding pain in your chest stop.
you cried yourself to sleep that night, waking up to the sunlight coming through the window with a splitting headache. you felt like your skull was trying to crack itself open from the inside but you shakily got to your feet, remembering bits and pieces from your fight with iida.
you could tell he didn't come home last night; everything was exactly the way you had left it last night. the house alarm was still on, and his shoes were gone.
he actually left.
anger bubbled in your chest as you thought about what had actually happened. you would not let him get the last laugh, or be the last one left, the one waiting on him patiently to pick up the pieces after trying to keep it together. you would leave too, as much as it hurt, and show him just how selfish you could be.
in a flash, you haphazardly packed a bag with essentials and had texted your friends that you needed a place to stay for a few days. you didn’t get into specifics- your heart ached too much to relive the events of the previous night- but you told them you had reached your limit and you needed to take some time to cool off.
alternatively, iida did not sleep that night. after finishing patrols, he stayed at his brother’s apartment out of pure convenience, not feeling prepared to face you after everything that had transpired between the two of you.
the dark-haired man laid staring at the ceiling of tensei’s guest bedroom, wracking his brain and trying to pinpoint how things had gone south so fast. he wanted to fix things, but really didn’t know how. he couldn’t even tell you what was broken, let alone how to begin to fix them.
his brother had tried to give him advice after listening to the entire story, but there was only so much he could do. he knew that you were right, their father was keeping him from you on purpose, slowly making tenya think that he was in the right in an attempt to break you up, but he couldn't be the one to tell him.
tenya had to come to that conclusion himself. he needed to be the one to set boundaries and save your relationship, but from the looks of it, soon any attempts would be futile.
“_____? darling?” iida called as he came into your home. immediately noticing your missing shoes, he moved to the bedroom in a flash, checking to see if you had just moved them or something.
the room was a mess, drawers left open and clothing strewn across the bed and floor. the bathroom had been cleared of almost all your essentials, and a note was left on the dresser. gingerly, iida picked it up and read it, offering up a silent prayer that it didn't say what he thought it did.
i don't know when you'll see this, or if you ever will. if you're reading it, that means you came back home but you will not find me there.
im tired, tenya.
im tired of always being the one to extend the olive branch or bend over backwards for you.
i refuse to be in that position any longer. i love you… i love you so much it hurts sometimes because i know this isn't the way things were supposed to be. but you left, and so i decided to leave too.
if a way to fix things exists, i want us to find it, but right now i need some time to reevaluate us and what that means. i hope you understand, i know you will.
if you want to reach out, im open to talking about this further, but for right now i need to think.
goodbye.
--------
#peachiileaf50!#[🍑]peachiimilquetea#[🍑]peachiiwrites#scenario#tenya iida#mha iida#iida angst#angst#tenya iida x reader#iida x female reader#peachiileafsfw
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Take care of you.
Prompt: it's your husband's first long travel since your wedding. You both just can't wait to see each other again.
Warnings: teasing, unprotected sex, breeding kink all over it, daddy kink, a bit of size kink maybe, 2 smuts in one, degradating and praising, multiple orgasms, overestimation.… I know, but its still fluffy, I swear
Fluffy warnings: Jake wearing THAT^ outfit. You washing his long hair. Like... him loving his wifey sm.... I'm unstable
Like 3k words.
---
You were living a never ending honeymoon. Even after you and Jake came back home from your official one, nothing changed. Still had that same sweet energy.
And that only made it even harder when he had to say goodbye. Yeah, it was only for a month, and he definitely had been away for longer periods of time, but right now… it was painful because you both had to admit to yourselves that your honeymoon was over and real life started.
You missed each other so badly. You cried on the phone more than once. But you knew he loved his job. And you loved to support him.
Felt like it took ages, but the day of his return finally came. You barely slept the night before it. You missed his sleepy voice in the morning. His jokes and his weird behavior, cause he just felt so comfortable around you. And you obviously missed the fact that everything always turned into sex these days. Wherever you looked at in that house, Jake had already fucked you there. Your heart craved his presence and your body craved his touch. You didn't even know which one was more urgent... all you knew was that it all together was making you desperate.
---
Jake felt the same way. He wanted to hug you and he wanted to shove his cock inside you so bad, all at once. He texted you from the taxi, saying he was 20 minutes away.
'I can't wait, tell the driver to hurry up, please.' You texted him back.
As a reply, all you got was a pic of the bulge in his pants. You shivered. You couldn't believe that would be inside you in a few minutes. You decided to tease him back:
'If you're already that hard, imagine how you'll feel when you see how fucking wet I am right now. So much, daddy… it's running down my thighs, I swear… need you here quickly, I promised you I wouldn't touch myself, but...'
He groaned frustratedly and decided to stay off his phone for now. You were already making him throb painfully, and he knew pretty well how wild the teasing could get between the two of you.
---
He planned on fucking you hard even before he opened the front door and found you in nothing but his shirt.
I said nothing.
You knew he was coming and there was no time to waste, so…
You ran towards the door for a hug that quickly became a messy kiss. His hands were everywhere, like he was trying to find out if you were real. The truth was that he just didn't know where to touch you first.
Jake pinned you against the wall and you grinded his thigh while he was unzipping his pants, whining loudly cause you were desperate like that.
He grabbed your waist and lifted you a little, so you automatically wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck. You pulled him as close as possible and all you felt was him. His warm embrace, his soft lips on your neck...
He held you against the wall with one hand while he grabbed his cock with the other
He shoved it at once inside you, groaning wild and loudly.
Your face couldn't hide the pain as he started thrusting mercilessly the second his was in.
"What is that, babygirl?" He cooed, and his sweet voice didn't match the eagerness of his hips. "Did you forget how it feels to have daddy inside you? Forget how big I am? Well, I'm back now, so I gotta stretch this tight little pussy open for me again."
You couldn't say anything, all you could do was take every single thing he gave you.
The way his body was pressed against yours made it impossible for him to avoid brushing your clit with his lower abdomen.
"Jake, I'm gonna cum." You told him desperately. You didn't want to do it so fast, but it was impossible to hold it at that point.
"Yes, pretty girl, as loud as you can, I missed hearing you crying out my name…"
Your fingers wrapped around his hair, that was a messy bun at this point, and you came, screaming his name, hoping it would make him cum too.
But not so soon.
Your orgasm only made him want you more. Only made him harder, if that was even possible.
And he didn't give you a second to recover, he kept fucking you like nothing happened, maybe even harder than before.
Your clit was hurting from overestimation, your hips bucked trying to escape the constant pressure, your legs were shaking so much around his body. It felt so good that you had to beg him to stop, you couldn't take all of it.
"Cum inside me, daddy, please, give me your… fuck." You felt the tears in the corner of your eyes as your second orgasm approached.
"My what? You weren't going to say cum, were you, princess?" He smirked. "You were gonna say babies, you want me to knock you the fuck up, huh?"
You weren't even sure what you wanted anymore, but you nodded, moaning loudly as he pounded you through your orgasm.
"I barely came home and you're already begging for my children again, you little slut." He mocked you, but you could tell he was getting close. His movements became messier.
And like he wasn't already absolutely abusing your clit and saying things that could make you cum untouched, he just started hitting that special place inside you that made you dumb for him.
He used all the strength he had left to thrust DEEP and HARD inside you one last time.
Maybe you came for the third time, but you weren't even sure anymore. All you knew was that it was lot.
It was so relieving when his hips stopped and you felt his warm seed filling you up. Fuck, there was SO MUCH of it, it had been so long… you didn't remember ever feeling that full before.
But when he was done, he cursed himself for not doing that in bed, cause he was exhausted on a level that he could barely stand. His legs were weak and he was still buried inside you, his arms on each side of your head on the wall, supporting his weight.
Fuck it, he knew there was no time to get in bed. His cock was too hard, his balls were too full and you looked too hot with his shirt barely hiding the fact that your pussy was free for him to use.
And you were absolutely wrecked. Your pussy was so sore that you were afraid to touch it, even to remove his cock from you.
Maybe it was the post orgasmic bliss, mixed with the feeling or being so close after being separated for so long… but the energy of that moment was unmatched. Unexplainable. You both were feeling that way, and somehow you knew it.
But after Jake caught his breath, he removed himself from you, helping you stand on your feet again, but he still kept one hand on the wall to support his own weight, just in case.
"Babe…" You laughed. "Look at how exhausted you are, it's almost heartbreaking."
He sent you a tired smile.
"Come on, I'll run you a bath, what do you think?" You suggested, kissing his cheek.
"Sounds wonderful." He agreed. "As long as you join me."
"Jacob, you can barely stand, how are you still horny?" You rolled your eyes.
"Didn't mean that." He chuckled. "Just wanna stay close to you. Missed you, baby."
"Missed you too." He brought you for a tight hug and you melted in his arms.
---
When the two of you managed to get upstairs, Jake sat in bed as you prepared the bath.
You walked into the room and found him going through his phone.
"Sorry." He said, without looking at you. "I'll be there in a minute, I'll just…"
When you approached him and realized he was working, you sighed and grabbed his phone.
He looked at you with a confused expression.
"Enough work." You sent him a sad look. "Work kept you away from me for WEEKS. Now it's all about us. Let me take good care of my husband, just for today?"
He couldn't resist you. Anything you asked, the answer was always yes. Specially in this occasion, when there was absolutely nothing he would rather do than spend time with you.
You grabbed his hand and guided him to the bathroom.
He removed his clothes and sat on the warm bubble bath
You only had his old shirt on, so you were able to do the same and join him in a second.
The kind of non sexual intimacy of your naked bodies touching was so relaxing. Jake walked into the house almost an hour ago, but nothing made him feel at home quite like that exact moment.
He closed his eyes for a moment. Just to enjoy the warmth from the water. To wrap his arms around you and feel like the happiest man alive.
But, suddenly, his peace was interrupted by the sound of the water moving and the loss of contact with your body.
You turned around and now sat down facing him.
Watching him with a sweet smile on your face.
You bit your lip and placed your hand on the back of his head, gently undoing the bun his hair was in.
"What are you doing?" He chuckled. "I thought this whole thing about you being eager to have a baby was only kinky stuff, honey. I know how to take a bath."
"Shut up." You laughed, taking a hand full of water to the back of his head, wetting his hair. "I'm just taking care of my husband."
He didn't say or do anything to stop you. So you grabbed the shampoo bottle and applied a little on your hand, proceeding to massage his scalp very gently with the tip of your fingers.
He closed his eyes and relaxed again as you finished washing his hair. You took your time and enjoyed the moment. Jake's hair was soft and he looked absolutely breathtaking like that. Relaxed. Humming softly. His wet golden chain caught your eyes as you watched his chest going up and down slowly. So beautiful. Beautiful couldn't even describe it…
"I love you." You whispered to him.
He smiled and opened his eyes. "I love you too. So much that sometimes I just can't believe you're my wife. Just too good to be truth."
You smiled like a fool and wished that moment could last forever. But the water was getting cold. So you stood up and wrapped a towel around your body.
"Where are you going?" He protested.
"Come on, let's put some clean clothes on, I miss movie night and cuddles on the sofa." You suggested.
---
Jake was sitting on the sofa in his grey sweatpants and sweatshirt. You always told him that was his softest outfit and it was just perfect for cuddling. Heaven couldn't compare to that feeling... your head resting on his chest, his arms wrapped around you.
The tv was only background noise, cause he was actually looking at you. When you felt his gaze, you looked back at him, your eyebrows furrowed.
"What?" You asked. "Jesus, looks like you haven't seen me in like... a month?"
"I could spend my whole life looking at you and I still wouldn't have enough." He said, caressing your cheek with two fingers.
You stood like that for a while, looking at each other's eyes while he stroked your cheeks softly. Then his fingers started to move down to your chin. Then to your lips. You parted them a bit and Jake slid his fingers inside your mouth slowly.
You nibbled them gently with your front teeth until he moved them deeper inside your mouth, placing them on your tongue. He started moving them in lazy circles. All without losing eye contact. It was so intense that you left out a moan without even noticing it.
"What's on your mind, babygirl?" He smiled.
You grabbed his wrist and removed his fingers from your mouth, sucking them on the process.
"What you said earlier in the bathroom." You admitted. "And by the front door too. Thinking about you getting me pregnant, wouldn't that be nice?"
"Fuck, y/n..." He smirked. "Is this still only kinky stuff?"
"Yeah, for now it is." You said, straddling his lap. "Just wanna make you hard. Be the only one who gets to call you daddy just for now."
Those sweatpants weren't only good for cuddling. It was also amazing to feel his hard cock through them.
"Yes, pretty girl, I love it when you call me daddy." He kissed you passionately, while his hands traveled your body, ending up on your clothed core. His fingers barely brushed your clit through your panties and you left out a little "ouch".
"You still didn't even recover from how good I fucked you last time and you already want more, my greedy little slut." He chuckled.
"Yeah, I fucking missed you." You shrugged. "And we're not gonna fuck again, we're gonna make love now."
"Who said that?" He raised his eyebrows. "What if I want to fuck you?"
His fingers insisted on touching your clit until you started getting used to it.
"Be gentle with me, daddy, please." You begged. "Need your love, not just your cock."
If he wasn't convinced already, the way you asked made him change his mind.
"Okay, baby." He pulled his pants down and grabbed his cock, beautiful hard again. "Why don't you ride me nice and slow, then?"
You nodded, raising your hips a little, so he could help you remove your panties. He tossed them on the floor and his fingers went back to your core, spreading your folds and running his fingers through them until you were wet enough. He slid two fingers inside you and you started rocking your hips softly. He removed his fingers from you too suddenly, and your pussy automatically clenched around nothing.
You sent him a pleading look, but he was too busy licking his fingers. You waited. But your suffering didn't last very long, he quickly grabbed his cock and gave it a few strokes before aligning it with your pussy. He held it dangerously close and teased your entrance a bit. When the head was in, he left you do the job.
You lowered yourself on his cock slowly. Inch by inch like you didnt want to miss a single detail, a single vein. Your tight hole embraced all of his thick length. The last time he stretched you up wasn't that long ago, but you still needed to adjust to his size. You held on to his hair, that was still wet, and started moving your hips.
"Just ike that, my angel." He whispered, placing his hands on your hips and guiding them up and down slowly. "Nice and slow, good girl."
You managed to keep that slow sensual pace with him praising you and telling you that you were the love of his life every 10 seconds. But only until he was getting close. His words turned into incoherent moans and his fingers digged into your hips, which you understood as a sign to go a little faster.
Your 4th release that night was approaching. You felt like you would fall apart when you reached it, but you still needed it. After all… what's the problem of falling apart when you're in your lover's arms?
You two came almost at the same time. You were connected just like that. He held your body close and you fell on his chest, completely weak. But, one more time, Heaven couldn't compare. Sitting on his lap, his cock still inside you, after barely coming down from your high. Your head resting on his chest, on his soft sweatshirt, his cologne mixed with the smell of sex in the air.
He didn't want to leave that place. Didn't matter if it would be for a month again, of even for a second. He was fully aware at that moment that you were the most important thing in his life.
He gently removed you from his lap, placing you on the sofa, and fixed his clothes before standing up. You were absolutely exhausted and didn't move a muscle, just sat on the sofa on the exact same position he left you. He chuckled and leaned close to you, placing one arm on your back and the other under your legs. Your arms automatically wrapped around his shoulders and he picked you up.
"What are you doing?" You yawned and rested your head on his shoulder.
"It's my turn now." He smiled and kissed your forehead. "I'm taking care of my wife."
#jake gyllenhaal#jake gyllenhaal x reader#jake gyllenhaal x you#jake gyllenhaal smut#jake gyllenhaal fanfic#jake gyllenhaal x y/n#jake gyllenhaal imagine
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Biggest Fan 2
Part 1
Warning: coercion, blackmail, porn, nonconsent sex, cheating
It was a long, silent walk back to the office. You rubbed your palm with your thumb as you struggled not to think of the feel of him in your hand. The hardness still barely concealed in his pressed pants.
He opened the door for you and you walked ahead of him. He followed you up the stairs and you felt his gaze on your ass, realising too late your mistake. As you reached your floor, you rushed over to your desk and he let you. He went to his office. It was as if nothing had even happened. As if your hand hadn’t been on his dick only fifteen minutes before.
You took a shuddery breath and logged in to your computer. Most of your work was transcription or shadowing Andy. Nothing overly complicated. Even so, you found it hard to concentrate on your work. You rubbed your forehead and leaned back in your chair. You glanced towards Andy’s office, his door was open, he was watching you, his pen pressed to his bottom lip. He tore his eyes from you and grabbed his phone.
You wanted to be sick. You drew your attention back to your screen and forced yourself to type. The buzz of your phone distracted you but you ignored it. It vibed again and you slid it out of your blazer pocket onto your desk. You positioned it just under your monitor and unlocked it.
‘Today. After work.’ The first text read and the second hovered above. ‘I can’t wait for the real thing’.
You swept away the bubbles and blinked at the computer screen. He was like a teenager. This man you’d looked up to, this man you’d admired for his professionalism, his veracity, were just like those boys in your program who tried to talk you into one of their stupid red cup parties. And he was married. The thought made you want to sob but you just forced down the bile and kept typing.
Though the morning had dragged by, the rest of the day seemed to fly. You looked at the clock and your phone lit up. Another message from him. You packed up your things before you dare to grab your cell and reluctantly looked at it. ‘Got a meeting with Canavan. Meet me at Joe’s down the block, 20 min.’
You looked over and found his office empty. You’d been so determined to ignore him, you hadn’t even noticed him leave. You grabbed your bag and headed out. Joe’s was a coffee place just down the block, you always grabbed Andy a small coffee when you got yours. Wait, had you led him on? With coffee?
No, no. He was a forty year old man and you were just a college student. This wasn’t your fault. Well, those were your pictures on the internet. You had put them there.
You barely recalled making your descent onto the street or hurrying down to the little cafe. You ordered a bottle of juice so you could sit in the corner. You picked at the unbroken seal and your leg shook nervously beneath the table. What were you doing? If you just ignored him, would he really send those pictures? Andy was a good guy… or so you thought.
You were startled as the table shifted and he sat across from you. He smoothed the front of his suit and smiled at you then looked around.
“We shouldn’t stay here long,” He said. “Too close to work.”
“You can’t be serious about this?” You kept your voice low. “Andy, I--”
“Shhh,” He raised his hand. “Look, we don’t have time to waste.”
You stared at him and gulped.
“First thing, delete your account.” He said.
“What? I can’t-- That’s how I--”
“I told you. I’ll take care of you.” He interrupted. “Delete it. Now.”
“You’re married,” You whispered. “Why--”
“I know what I am. What I want.” He turned his hand down onto the table. “Ten seconds or I add your professor to the CC.”
“Goddamnit,” You bent and reached into your bag.
You sat up with your phone and keyed in the code. You opened the app and he took the phone before you could hit anything else. He placed it on the table between you and went to settings. You watched as he scrolled through the settings and finally found the option to delete. He accepted several warnings before everything just disappeared. He turned the phone back to you and slid it forward.
He stood and sighed as he checked his watch. “Alright. Laurie’s taken Jacob to his tournament so we should have some time. Let’s go.”
📚
Andy’s house was nice. Much nicer than your small apartment near the college. You felt out of place as he drove right into the garage and let you in through the side door. You hated that you were sneaking around. Hated that you were doing this at all.
You entered the kitchen and he turned to you. He took your bag and set it on the counter. You shuddered as you lifted your foot and he stopped you.
“Keep the shoes on,” He smiled. “I like ‘em.”
“Are you… sure about all this?” You lowered your foot slowly. “My account is gone, you made sure of it.”
“That’s not what this is about,” He grabbed your arm and wrenched you forward. He took your hand in his and pressed it to his crotch again. “Feel that. That’s what you do to me. Every fucking day.”
“Andy--”
He spun you and pushed you against the island. You saw a flowered notebook on the other side. That was probably hers, just like the man behind you. He leaned his weight against you as he gripped your waist and purred.
“I can’t help but think of you on my desk as I’m sitting on it but this will have to do,” His hand went to your ass and he slapped you hard. “Oh, fuck.”
His hands crawled up to your shoulders and he pulled your blazer off. He dropped it on the floor and reached around to unbutton your blouse. You grabbed his hand and he brushed you off.
“Don’t make this difficult, baby girl,” He warned. “Don’t tell me this isn’t what you wanted all along?” He tore your blouse open and forced it down your arms. “Posting those pictures.”
“Please--”
“Shhh, don’t want the neighbours to hear.” He flung your shirt. “They always are so fucking nosy.”
You hung your head as he unzipped the back of your skirt, pulling back to let it slip past your hips. It pooled on the tile and he stepped on it until you lifted your feet one at a time and he kicked it away. You regretted your ridiculous choice not to wear underwear. Well, it had been more a dare and earned you a smooth fifty on your paypal.
“Fuck.” He rubbed your ass as his other hand fought with his belt.
You smelled his woodsy cologne as his fumbling grew more frantic. You heard the soft metallic clink and his zipper as he pushed it down. He wiggled as he shoved his pants down. His hand went around to your stomach and he guided himself along your ass his foot between yours as he urged your legs apart.
You slapped your hands on the island as he dragged his swollen tip along your folds and found your entrance with a hum. He pushed inside you and jolted your hips into the edge of the counter, nuzzling his head into your neck as he leaned into you. His hot breath was wet against your skin as he forced himself to his limit.
“Shit,” You swore as you stretched around him.
“Mmmm,” He hummed and thrusted hard, lingering inside you as he basked in the feel. “God, you’re even better than I could have--” He rocked his hips again and choked. “Jesus.”
You scratched your nails against the marble island and pushed your head back against his shoulder as he moved his hips steadily, each tilt coming quicker than the last. You gritted your teeth as you tried to fight off your own arousal. Despite your reluctance, your core burned hot and you could hear how slick you were with each thrust.
He withdrew his hand from your stomach and grabbed your shoulders. He pushed you down until you were bent over the island and your feet left the floor. He held you down as his motion picked up and he slammed into you with dusky grunts. With each jolt of his hips, yours hit the marble and you held your breath to keep from moaning.
You closed your eyes and pressed your cheek to the cool counter. Your lips formed an O as you came quietly, covering your face with your arm. He crashed into you harder than before, you felt your juices spreading along the open v of his pants and the tails of his shirt. He gripped your hips and his thumbs dug into your flesh.
He pulled out of you sharply and swore as he spilled down your thigh, stroking himself along so that his tip rubbed his seed over your skin. Breathless, he spread his hand over your lower back then dragged it down to your ass and squeezed.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” He rasped.
He drew his hand and backed away. You slid off the island and your feet wobbled beneath you, your heels almost perilous as your legs buzzed. Andy leaned against the other counter as he wiped himself with a paper towel and put his cock away. He zipped up his pants and buckled his belt before tucking in his shirt and straightening his collar.
“Whew,” He took a breath. “Baby girl, that was worth every last penny.” He looked you up and down and bit his lip. “Better get dressed before the wife gets back.”
#andy barber#dark andy barber x reader#dark andy barber#dark!andy barber#dark!andy barber x reader#andy barber x reader#drabble#sequel#biggest fan#defending jacob
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Angels to Devils
Summary: A possible assassination attempt success.
A/n: My headcanon Supercorp family. With the twins Lucas and Liam, and you the oc Lauren. Sorry in advance
Warning: Blood, Heavy Injuries, ANGST
Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Reader, Lena Luthor x Reader
Word Count: 2136
Lena usually loved waking up to mornings, Kara by her side and the world so still and quiet that nothing can ruin it. The past few days have been rough. It was another reminder that Lena had something someone else couldn’t have. Another day.
Lena’s eyes filled with tears, her stream of tears flowed into her ear and soaked the pillow. Kara wasn’t awake but Lena held onto her like she was a lifeline. Kara stirred and was immediately awoken to hug her wife.
The casts she wore restricted her movements. Kara was careful to not hurt Lena.
“It’s today isn’t it.” Lena nodded as Kara fought her tears.
You didn’t have a normal childhood, anyone with a Luthor and a Super as parents wasn’t normal. Although it wasn’t normal you knew you were loved.
You were every bit like Lena whereas Liam and Lucas were every bit like Kara. It never really bothered you that you didn’t have powers because without their powers you can easily defeat them in hand-to-hand combat.
To say Lena was proud is an understatement, she was on the sidelines raising her fists, and screaming “Go get Em’ baby!” While Lucas, Liam and Kara flushed red.
It was midsummer before your first quarter at M.I.T , you were partaking in Lena’s work days. Paperwork, meetings and your favorite lab times.
“Ren, I need you to raise the levels to 80%.” Lena watched with a tablet in her hands.
“It is actually on full power already.” You smiled.
Lena faced you before moving her head towards her tablet. “Normally I would lecture you on testing protocols but it works!” Lena placed her tablet down and squeezed you in a hug. “We have successfully made a new renewable and efficient energy source.”
“We also very much stole technology from Argo,” you laughed.
“Don’t ruin the moment.” Lena chuckled, moved back and held your head in between her hands. “My little scientist, you will do great things in the future.” Lena kissed your forehead.
“I think I’d have to start with preventing grey hair without dyes.” You joked.
Lena glared. “Okay smarty pants. You can write the report.”
You groaned as Lena smirked. “Do I have to?”
“This is only practice for the future sweetheart. Plus I have to make sure all the Pauls don’t pull out of any mergers.”
“Ugh those skeezebag lawyers, sometimes I wish I had heat vision.” Your hand shook as if you were preventing yourself from choking someone.
“Careful there,” Lena raised an eyebrow “you sound like a Luthor.”
You grabbed the tablet out of your mother’s hands and pulled the stool in front of the computers. “I hate to burst your bubble but I’m a Luthor and a Super, if you have a problem with that the door is behind you.” You replayed with a teasing tone.
“Okay I really have to go deal with Paul now, behave.” Lena sighed.
“C’mon mama I’m not Lucas.” You began to type several results into the computer.
“Good thing your brother didn’t hear that.” Lena hugged you before heading towards the door. “I’ll see you later. Love you.”
“Love you too mama, more than I love Jeju.” Lena’s heart melted. That was something she was going to brag to Kara about.
Lena sat in the conference room, calm and collected when she really wanted to rip her hair out. She could tell that the other females in the room were feeling the same. The CEO was glad that Sam spoke up about wasting time and had ended the meeting with the final merge successful.
Sam and Lena walked out of the conference room towards the elevator. When the door dinged opened they were met with a smile and an armful of Lena’s things.
“Hi baby, did you finish the report?” Lena hugged you and grabbed her purse.
“I got bored,” You shrugged “And Aunt Sam said you were close to ripping out hair that wasn’t grey.”
“So you texted my daughter?” Lena raised her eyebrows at Sam.
“For someone who is a genius you’re missing out on the fact that your daughter just said I contacted her.”
“She texted the Spoiled group chat.” Lena gave a questioning glance at the group name.
“The group chat with Aunt Sam and the rest of the Superfriend’s Legacies.”
“I’m the cool Aunt,” Sam smirked. “But now go have fun with the rest of your day off, promise you’ll tell great stories?” Sam hugged you. “And keep your mom away from work, this was really meant to be her day off.”
“Of course! Bye Aunt Sam!” You waved as she left the elevator. “Do I get to drive home?”
“Absolutely not!”
“So I get to help in the lab, but I can’t drive home.” You reasoned as you both walked to the underground garage. “I get to pick the music then?”
You raced towards the passenger seat. You closed the door behind you and locked it immediately. Lena pulled on the door handle and pressed on the keys to unlock the car. You once again locked the car which earned the famous Luthor eyebrow raise.
Lena entered the car as you laughed at her. You knew she wouldn’t be able to keep the silent treatment for much longer.
“I’m sorry, it’s fun to mess with you and Jeju. I’ll make it up to you by playing your old music.” You said as you placed your phone on a magnetic Bluetooth connector and played an *NSYNC song.
“*NSYNC is not old!” Lena drove out of the underground packing.
“Mama, you’re 51. NSYNC is 49 years old. Half a century! It’s old.”
“I’m gonna pretend like you didn’t say that!” Lena said as she raised the volume and belted out the lyrics.
It doesn't matter,
'bout the car I drive or the ice around my neck
All that matters,
Is that you recognize that it’s just about respect (oh)
“It’s all about respect mama,” you teased.
“It better be, I’m a Luthor.” You both laughed.
The car came to a stop at the intersection on Main Street and Cordova. Lena drummed on the steering wheel and sung the chorus. You grabbed a water bottle and held it as a mic.
“Do you ever wonder why, this music gets you high?” The two sang.
The car jolted forward with a loud crash. You groaned at the burn at your neck. A sharp hiss rendered quiet with screeching tires and a horn.
A huge blow hit the car. Suddenly the car tilted towards the ground. An immense weight thrown onto you, with glass sprinkling down. Yours and Lena’s heads whipped side to side as the car flipped several times.
Shallow breaths threatened the immense silence that floated through the street.
~Lena’s POV~
A warm liquid bounced off my cheek. The cold cement acted as my bed. I didn’t have to look to know my left leg and left arm broke. I looked around trying to register what had happened.
My heart threatened to jump out of my chest, as I witnessed my daughter’s soft hand stained red and dangled limply above me. She was suspended above me, a bone or two protruded out of her side. The only thing that stopped her from falling was the seatbelt.
“Lauren baby,” My own voice unrecognizable and unsteady.
I turned to the watch on my left arm, there it sat shattered. I reached towards Lauren’s bloody hand that had her super watch. I flipped open the watch, relieved when her pulse thumped faintly.
A soft thud landed in front of the windshield. I knew it was Kara and J’onn.
“Lena! Lauren!” I heard my wife call.
The car lifted and more of Lauren’s blood flowed onto the seat, compartment and my clothes.
“Wait no no no! The car is applying pressure to one of Lauren’s wounds.”
“I can phase in, apply pressure and get her out. Where are her injuries?”
There was a moment of silence before Kara answered. “Two of her ribs are broken, her right forearm fractured, lower back spinal injury, her other arm is dislocated, broken ankle, t-the seatbelt cut her stomach.”
“I’ll get her to the D.E.O.”
J’onn glowed red and flew through the car. The Martian lifted my daughter like a feather and vanished through the top.
The car flipped up right and I could only groan in response.
“I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” Kara carried me delicately.
~3rd POV~
Supercorp landed on the D.E.O balcony. Kara guided Lena into the MedBay. However they were met with teary eyed Superfriends. Alex had tears pooled in her eyes, Nia sobbed, as J’onn stared into space. Brainy was left to share the bad news.
“You may want to sit down for this.” Brainy waited for Kara and Lena. “Lauren’s injures were very...severe, she also had internal injuries. She didn’t make it.”
Lena froze, she pushed off the bed. “No, no she can’t, she can’t be dead! Where is she?” She stepped with her broken leg and collapsed into Kara’s arm.
“Mrs. Luthor-Danvers we need to tend to your wound.” Dr. Hamilton said from the door.
“You will not! Not until I see my daughter!”
“Bring her a wheelchair,” Alex ordered.
In the D.E.O morgue, a few morticians cleaned Lauren’s body. Two stitched up her body as one cleaned the blood off the youngest Luthor-Danvers’ skin.
“Give Lena and Supergirl space.” The three morticians stepped out of the room.
Lena was wheeled onto one side and Kara stood on the other. Lauren was still warm. Kara held onto her daughter’s hand. She didn’t realize how deafening it was to not hear your heart.
The two parents sobbed. Lena caressed her daughter’s cheek. “I am, I am so sorry baby. You... you had so much more to look forward to. Jeju and I will always love you. Always.” Lena whispered and kissed your forehead. “Always.” Tears rolled down Lena’s cheeks.
Dr. Hamilton rolled Lena into the operating room.
“Little one,” Kara sobbed. She remained there until Lucas and Liam walked through the doors.
The twins were off on a college baseball retreat, and wore their red sun braclets. They received a call from Alex and had to realistically take a 2 hour plane ride back.
“Jeju,” The two boys whispered and hugged Kara. “Is mom okay?”
“She’s okay.”
“Kara, Lena is in recovery.” Alex said from the door. Kara nodded and headed back towards the MedBay.
“Lauren,” Liam whispered. “How I wish you were just sleeping.”
“I love you, Ren. Thank you for pushing me to the best I could be. Wouldn’t have been able to be Lucas Luthor-Danvers without you.” Lucas cried.
“Don’t worry about us okay, we will be okay.” Liam wiped his tears away.
Everyone of Kara’s friends and family sat on top of a hill that looked over National City. The Legends, Team Flash, Team Arrow, The Bat Family, Lucy Lane, Kal-El’s family, Sam and Ruby, Superfriends and your cousins were there.
Eliza flew in from Midvale a couple of days ago, Alura landed on Earth an hour ago and even Lillian was there in honor of her granddaughter.
Lillian was furious that your death was cause by an assassination attempt on Lena. She had pulled up security cameras and tracked the man who purposefully hit Lena’s car.
Lauren laid in a red pod and floated next to her designated tree. Everyone was given a chance to say something about you.
Kara talked about hearing your first heartbeat, Lena on helping her in the labs. Liam about how you were able to keep him and Lucas out of trouble. Lucas focused on the last midnight talk the two of you shared. Alex shared how you were a fighter.
J’onn shared your last thoughts, he shifted into your form. “I’m scared to leave this world not because I am afraid of death but because I’m scared of leaving everyone I love behind. I don’t regret anything because of everyone I had in my life.” Other cute moments were shared before Kara started The Prayer for the Dead.
She moved her hand over the pod. The House of El symbol glowed and the glass of the pod became transparent. Kara took a deep and shaky breath.
“You have been the sun of our lives. Our prayers will be the sun that lights your journey home.” Kara released another shaky breath and looked towards the horizon. “We will remember you in every dawn and await the night we join you in the sky.” Kara’s eye glistened. “Rao’s will be done.” She finished in Kryptonian.
Alura pushed the pod and it slowly flew higher and further into the horizon. Lena pinned a sign on a tree that read:
Lauren Luthor-Danvers
2027 - 2044
#supergirl#supergirl imagine#supergirl imagines#supergirl x reader#lena luthor#lena luthor imagines#lena luthor imagine#lena luthor x reader#lena luthor x daughter reader#kara danvers#kara danvers imagines#kara danvers imagine#kara danvers x reader#kara danvers x daughter!reader#supercorp#supercorp family#supercorp imagines#supercorp imagine#supercorp x reader#superfriends
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Love Letters
This is the plain text version of an IMAGE SET! Please check out the chapter on AO3 for the visual, or enjoy the plain text here! If you end up liking the visual chapter, make sure to thank @the--descension and their fic, as well as @zk-modernau!
Click here to read the full fic on AO3
Image ID: Screenshots of a text chat between Katara in green chat bubbles and Zuko in white chat bubbles. / End Image ID
[Author’s note, timestamps are not included in this transcript as they were not accurately edited in the app. Texts will be labelled by sender first, followed by the message. Readers using accessible software please be aware that text messages will include extra punctuation for emphasis and misspellings. Emojis used will be typed out as a description.]
Blue text box with the date December 09, 2020
Yellow text box with lock symbol that reads Messages to this chat and calls are now secured with end-to-end encryption. Tap for more info.
Katara: BTFS!!!!!
Zuko: That good huh?
Katara: WHY are there so many earth kingdom cities????
Zuko: Oh, geography class. My favorite.
Katara: Crying emoji. This is worse than anatomy.
Zuko: NOTHING is worse than anatomy.
Katara: True.
Katara: But why do I have to memorize this? I can Booble ALL OF IT.
Zuko: Same reasons as anatomy.
Katara: Three red angry emojis
Katara: I’m making everyone wear name tags.
Zuko: That’s one way to handle it.
Zuko: Have you learned anything about FN yet?
Katara: Why else am I dating you if not for that?
Zuko: I thought it was for my stunning good looks….
Katara: I do miss your face.
Zuko: I miss yours too.
Katara: You’re coming for the coronation right?
Zuko: That’s the plan.
Katara: How is your family being?
Zuko: Terrible, as usual. Who knew a failed kidnapping plot would put them in such a bad mood?
Katara: Straight face emoji
Katara: I still think you should’ve said something.
Zuko: It would just make things worse.
Katara: I know.
Katara: I keep thinking about you during these stupid lessons.
Katara: I can’t believe you already know all this BS.
Zuko: I’ve been learning it since I was a kid. Male shrug emoji
Katara: Sure, but I’ve seen your interviews and stuff.
Katara: You’re really good at it.
Zuko: Aww, are you internet stalking me???
Katara: Shut up!!!
Katara: I feel like every interviewer has a crush on you.
Zuko: Again, my stunning good looks.
Katara: That’s starting to sound like sarcasm. You are aware that you’re handsome, right?
Zuko: Love IS blind.
Katara: I’m serious! You have really nice cheekbones.
Zuko: And you say you can’t be diplomatic.
Katara: You’re impossible.
Zuko: I just don’t do well with compliments like that.
Katara: I’ll have to find other ways to compliment you then. Smiling devil emoji
Zuko: Sounds like a challenge.
Katara: I have to go. Arnook has me working with Pakku on “Courtly Behaviors.”
Zuko: Sounds terrible. Have fun!
Katara: Miss you! Six emoji hearts alternating red and blue
Zuko: Miss you too.
Blue text box with the date December 22, 2020
Zuko: So, by the end of it, Uncle had the guy by his collar and the wife was mortified.
Katara: I cannot believe this happened.
Zuko: Me neither. It only ever happens when I’m home.
Katara: Do you ever wish you stayed in Ba Sing Se?
Zuko: I used to, from time to time.
Katara: Not now?
Zuko: Now I think about how the Water Tribe Queen can’t go around dating a tea server.
Katara: What if we both left and ran off to the earth kingdom interior? We can open up our own tea and herb shop.
Zuko: Training not going well?
Katara: Training is FINE.
Katara: I just really miss you.
Zuko: I miss you too.
Zuko: I think about you all the time. It’s really distracting.
Zuko: I zoned out in the middle of an important luncheon today.
Katara: Why????
Zuko: I was thinking about you.
Katara: That’s dumb. You’re dumb.
Zuko: You like me dumb.
Katara: Hot and dumb, himbos forever.
Zuko: Hey, Thuy’s calling me. I gotta go.
Katara: Say hi!
Zuko: Will do. Talk to you later?
Katara: Heart eyes emoji
Blue text box with the date December 30, 2020
Katara: And it happens every new moon!
Zuko: That sounds like a lot of work every month.
Katara: It’s unbelievable.
Katara: I mean, maybe the South Pole did it before the war. But it’d be news to me.
Zuko: I guess that’s why they really want a Bender on the throne.
Katara: It makes things easier but also, we know the moon is going to come back. Like, scientifically.
Zuko: I think Arnook might be holding on for different reasons.
Katara: Shoot. Yeah. You’re right.
Katara: Crap, now I feel bad.
Zuko: Sorry. I do understand what you’re saying though.
Katara: Maybe I can change it? Make it more about Yue and less like we’re all gonna die if we don’t appease the spirits?
Zuko: That sounds reasonable.
Zuko: You’re really getting good at this.
Katara: I’m good with the tribe stuff. I’m still bad doing all this talking out the side of my mouth.
Zuko: Pardon? Monocle emoji
Katara: It’s an Earth Kingdom expression. When you’re not talking straight and buttering someone up. Or backhanded compliments.
Zuko: Unfortunately, you’ll have to do that a lot.
Katara: Whyyyyyy? I’ll be queen. What are they gonna do about it?
Zuko: Rebel?
Katara: Against the ocean? Eye roll emoji
Zuko: Sounding a bit tyrannical there darling. Fire emoji
Katara: They’re making me do all this stuff!!! It’s not fair!!!!
Zuko: It’ll get easier.
Katara: Can’t I just go visit you? Let’s go to Ember Island again.
Zuko: I wish.
Zuko: You look good on a beach.
Katara: Everyone looks good on a beach. That’s why it’s popular.
Zuko: Fair.
Katara: I can’t believe that was just a few months ago.
Zuko: I can’t believe we’ve been dating for a full season now.
Katara: Do we have an actual anniversary? Thinking emoji
Zuko: Honestly, I wasn’t thinking about it because I don’t want to jinx this.
Katara: Three cry laughing emojis
Katara: Would it be the summit tho?
Zuko: I guess so?
Katara: We wasted SO MUCH TIME this summer.
Zuko: Well…
Katara: It’s not my fault you were dating someone else.
Zuko: If I had been bolder during the war…
Katara: How would that have even worked?
Katara: I hadn’t even hit my peak rage against the Fire Nation
Zuko: Probably wouldn’t have been down for dating the crown prince then huh?
Katara: But it was you. So who knows?
Zuko: You think you would’ve still fallen for me?
Katara: Didn’t I do exactly that?
Zuko: That wasn’t me though.
Katara: Tomato, potato
Zuko: Your brother says that.
Katara: He stole it from ME!!!
Blue text box with the date January 03, 2021
Zuko: Sorry I missed your call.
Zuko: Kat?
Zuko: Are you mad at me?
Katara: Yes.
Zuko: I’m sorry Katara, the meeting ran long.
Katara: I know.
Katara: I’m still mad.
Katara: Today was really rough.
Zuko: What happened?
Katara: I don’t want to talk about it.
Zuko: Hey, did you want to call now? I’m free.
Katara: No.
Zuko: Katara.
Katara: I just really needed you!
Katara: Arnook keeps yelling at me because I keep forgetting names and stupid stuff like that, and Pakku is telling me that I’m going to cause the next world war because I’m rude, and now one will train with me because I’m the stupid princess now and I’m really really lonely!
Zuko: I’m sorry Katara, that really sucks.
Katara: It does suck!
Katara: And when I call my boyfriend when he told me he’d be free, he didn’t pick up!
Zuko: I couldn’t control that.
Katara: I know.
Katara: I’m sorry.
Katara: I really want to see you.
Zuko: We can video chat?
Katara: No, I really want to see you in person.
Katara: We just started dating but I never get to be with you.
Katara: And when we are together, something bad always happens.
Zuko: I know. I’m sorry.
Katara: It’s not your fault.
Zuko: It kinda is though. It’s my family.
Katara: I just wish you were here.
Zuko: Me too. But I’ll see you soon.
Katara: Ugh, don’t remind me. Fed up emoji
Zuko: You’re going to do great. And you’re not going to be taking over right away. Arnook is still around for a bit.
Katara: Promise YOU will be around for a bit?
Zuko: I’ll stay as long as I can.
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Beside you (JJK POV)
Genre: ANGST,SMUT, if you squint fluff
Word count: 4,327
TRIGGER WARNING: NONE
A/N: SO I am writing part 2 but some people were confused on whether or not jungkook had feelings for Y/N so i decided to do his POV to get his side of the story.
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“You may kiss the bride” The words bring disgust to my heart. “um...Jungkook?” She whispers scared as I roll my eyes and place a light kiss on her lips. My lips brush against her ear as I whisper “Just know this will be the last time you ever get to kiss me.” A satisfied smirk displayed across my face as hers falls, as we walk down the aisle as an officially married couple, hand and hand, keeping up appearances for my father. I do a quick glance at him and he gives me a thumbs up. Idiot I think as I shake my head, we rush through the double doors of the church and disappear in the car placed in the front of the building of worship.
Once we got in the car, I retract my hand, disgusted at this stupid plan my father has come up with. I don’t love Y/N. My father doesn’t want the world to know about his losses, he doesn’t want the great Jeon name ruined due to his misdeeds now I'm the one fucking paying for it marrying this spoiled sheltered little rich girl. He doesn’t care, he just wants to keep her stupid father happy. My father probably didn’t realize why no one else, not even her own father, didn’t want Y/N.
At the reception I disappeared as soon as we walked through the door. To the bar, to anywhere farther away from her. “Hey Handsome, what are you having?” The bartender asks as I look around the room. The amount of people that has shown up to this stupid ass wedding is pretty impressionable, Y/N making her way around the room talking to everyone she comes across. “Rum and coke” I look at the beautiful red headed woman across from me at the bar. She hands me my drink “so gorgeous what do you like to get into?” she smiles and says “trouble” a smirk flashes across my face. I down the rest of my drink “well let's go get into some trouble then what do you say huh baby girl?” “Uhm... I honestly really wish I could but I don’t want to get in trouble I’m working” She says nervously. “Don’t worry baby girl it's my wedding. So, I mean technically I am the one paying you, and you deserve a break” I laugh. She nods and runs from behind the bar “I'm Areum by the way.”
After about a few months, I've seen Areum more and more. Her body satisfying my sexual needs, she's growing more and more attached. My irritation with her becoming more and more evident as her calls become more frequent. Ending things is too hard at this point she's threatened to go to my father about our relationship knowing it could possibly ruin his whole scheme. His anger with me growing as he never sees me with Y/N when I visit. So, he made me help Y/N move her things into the home my parents bought for us. Her presence irking my soul every time I hear her melodic laugh from her bedroom. Y/N is a beautiful girl, yet I despise her because of my father. He’s the reason I'm trapped in a loveless marriage expunging this girl of her money. I own my own businesses I work every day but it's never enough to pay off the debts my father continues to rack up. Y/N has taken over the second bedroom and every time she gets out of the shower shed have to pass my room to get to hers, in nothing but a towel, and my heart would stop. My member growing hard at the image of her, the thought of her naked body walking into my room and riding my hard cock, growing harder and harder to push back in my head as the days go by.
After a while I become used to Y/N, her bubbly personality begins to light the whole house when she gets up in the morning. The days I have hard mornings mostly due to Areum, and I throw and break things Y/N doesn’t complain about the items almost attacking her, she smiles at me nods and goes to the kitchen to make me tea. She doesn’t ask about my troubles; she just goes to sooth them with the tea she constantly buys knowing it's my favorite. She doesn’t even drink tea. She doesn’t deserve to be married to a man like me. She's growing more and more a part of my daily routine. Her melodic voice in the shower waking me up every morning with her renditions of Eyes,nose,lips , I am the best, or whatever tune is in her head. Her questions about work after I get home, soon she becomes the only person I cannot wait to talk to Areum slowly growing out of my mind. My words of divorcing Y/N becoming more and more untrue as her aura consumes me.
One morning I woke up the house dead silent. “Y/N-ah?” silence. I jump out of my bed and make my way to her door. She probably slept in; an idea crept into my mind. I make my way to her door “Y/N-ie?” silence. Concern fills me as I open her door “Y/N? I was wondering if-” My words cut off as the sight of an empty unmade bed comes into view. I rush to my room and dial Y/N’s number, a ringing is heard throughout the house. “Fuck!” I shout as I dial Y/N’s fathers' number. “Hello sir um you wouldn’t happen to know where Y/N is would you?” “EXCUSE ME? YOU LOST MY DAUGHTER JEON!?!?” “No, I just woke up and she wasn’t here she said a while ago she wanted to visit you, I just assumed she did” The line ended. Panic took over my body as I dial my father's number. “Y/N is missing” I say to him softly.
An hour later Y/N and my father are sitting on my couch as they lecture me on my irresponsibility, and failure at her disappearing in the first place. I hear the door knob moving and my head whips around.
“Jungkook-ah I’m back is anyone he-” I hear as I jump off the couch and dash towards Y/N. My breathing heavy and a sigh of relief escapes my mouth. “Fuck I thought something happened to you” I state grabbing both sides of her face making sure she's okay. “Where were you? I woke up and tried to see if you wanted to go get breakfast and you weren't answering the door, so I opened it and you weren't there your bed is made where'd you sleep? I called your dad, man. I called MY dad” She gives me a beautiful smile and the worry washes away as she notices the 2 men on the couch and gives them a polite bow. “I'm sorry Kook-ah I woke up really early and chose to go for a walk. I lost track of time and only made it home just now I'm okay”
Since that day I’ve asked her to always keep me informed that she will be going out, my heart cannot take waking up to worry as much as I did that day. The need for her attention builds inside me and one night I can't contain it “Hey, do you want to go out with me tonight?” I ask shyly. “Yes! I mean yeah sure that sounds fun” She beams and my heart skips a beat. She rushes to her bedroom to get ready as I go to my bedroom to get dressed excitement filling me. I wait in front of the door for Y/N as my phone pings with a text from Areum.
Areum<3: Daddy I want to see you I'm going to the club tonight you should come by. I promise I'll be a good girl for you 😉.
I roll my eyes hmm I could definitely use something to get this frustration out.
Me: I'll see you there baby girl.
The sound of heels clicking against the hardwood floor, brings me back to reality. My eyes slowly observing every curve in Y/N’s figure. My pants growing tight as I try to speak “Uhm... Let’s...” She smiles and grabs my hand as she pulls me out of the house “Let’s go Jungkookie” FUCK JUNGKOOK JUST MAKE IT THROUGH THE DAMN NIGHT
Once we arrived at the club, I grab Y/N’s hand and stop her “Look, I know you don’t go out a lot and I want you to have as much fun as you want to okay. She smiles and nods as I release her hand catching sight of Areum. I make my way over to her “Hey stranger” she exclaims excitedly. I nod at her and smile “So...? You invited me here for a reason, right?” She smirks “Of course you know I'd never waste your time just wasn’t expecting to see your ugly ass wife” Anger builds and its evident on my face by Areums next comment. “Okay grumpy boy I'm sorry..... I forgot sensitive subject but don’t worry I'll make you forget all about her come on” She grabs my hand and leads me to the bathroom.
The second the bathroom door closes behind me Areum locks the door. “Jungkook I'm not happy...why don’t you see me anymore? Are you actually going to act on those stupid things you said you were feeling for that wife of yours?” I shake my head, Y/N would never want me to. I press my lips to hers and press her against the sink. She pulls my zipper down and pulls her panties off. “No foreplay, no time just fuck me okay?” she states as she bends over the counter, I grab the condom out of my pocket.
Soon I'm pulling my pants back on and walking out of the bathroom as Areum cleans herself off “CALL ME!” She shouts as the door closes behind me. My eyes scan the club and Y/N is nowhere in sight. I make my way through the dance floor. In need of a drink I make my way over to the bar and order a few shots. Soon I see Y/N laughing in a conversation with some guy across the bar. Her eyes shining like the stars and my heart flutters. Why does he get to hear that beautiful laugh? it should only be for me. She’s MINE, but she's not it's hard to remember she's not. My mind going back to the feeling of her lips on mine at our wedding my need to feel them again growing. This guy is flirting with her, I can tell by the smirk he’s kept on his face. His eyes drifting to her chest, the anger growing in the pit of my stomach. WHO THE FUCK DOES HE THINK HE IS?!?!?! WHY IS SHE STILL FUCKING TALKING TO HIM??? WHY DON’T YOU LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT? I rush behind her and hear this prick say seductively “SO... I hate to be THAT guy but are you here alone?” IM.GOING.TO.FUCKING.KILL.YOU.ASSHOLE. My jealousy growing too strong to contain as I wrap my arm around Y/N’s waist and growl at the prick flirting with the woman I've secretly come to love “No she's here with me...... her husband” I pull Y/N against my chest and she relaxes and presses her ass against me. “And were supposed to be having a good time together...without you”
“Sorry man, I didn’t know she was married. You know...since she was standing here by herself for a while, shit it looked like she didn’t seem to mind spending time with me” The prick smirks sarcastically. The anger is growing more and more within me. “Excuse me?!?” I shout, He rolls his eyes and looks at Y/N “You trying to go somewhere less crowded you look really uncomfortable with how many people are here” YOURE FUCKING DEAD I pull Y/N behind me and punch the asshole in the face. He stumbles back and returns the blow. Hitting him repeatedly I end up on top of him bashing my fist into his face. A large hand lifts me and a man in a yellow shirt begins dragging me out of the club as I try to swing around him at the man. Y/N’s hand grabs my hand and instantly I feel calm. Her head is down as we get into the car on our way back home
I feel her eyes burning the side of my face examining me to see if I am hurt. My anger growing as the concern on her face becomes more evident. “Why was he with you Y/N” My voice laced with sadness and jealousy. Her soft voice whines, obviously drunk “He just came up to and we started talking he bought me a couple drinks that’s all Kookie, I promise.” my heart breaks as she slurs her words, but the questions can’t stop. “Would you have gone home with him? Would you have let him fuck you?” My voice is shaky “WHAT? NO! Jungkook-ah I swear nothing like that would have happened I swear, the only person I actually WANT to fuck me is you. I mean Mark was really attractive and I'm sure he would have shown me a great time but I've never wanted to sleep with anyone but you kookie” I smile her statement makes me hard just thinking about her letting me fuck her “Don’t worry baby girl I'll do that for you.” I smirk as I pull into the driveway. I turn the car off and run over to the passenger side as I open the door she gets out and hugs me “Oh yeah Kookie? Are you gonna make me cum for you?” She smiles up at me. My cock twitching, the world begins to spin and suddenly for the first time all night I feel tipsy I wrap my arms around her waist, grabbing onto her hip pulling her ass against me slowly grinding my hard cock against her beautiful round ass. Her neck leaning to the side resting on my shoulder inviting my lips, I take the opportunity to tease the beautiful woman I'm going to turn into my little slut tonight. My lips spilling one of my deepest secrets “mmm Baby girl, I wanna eat your pussy so bad” I smack her ass seductively and she moans under her breathe. My cock rock hard probably deep red from the need for real relief the relief I’ve craved so badly ever since the first time I’ve seen you in a towel. I turn her around and thrown her over my shoulder and carry her into the house.
I wake up with a warm feeling on my chest, my eyes flutter open. The events from last night reply in my mind and I look down at Y/N. A smile creeps up onto my face. Slowly I make my way out of my bed sure to not wake Y/N to call my friend Jimin for advice on what to do now. “YO what's up Jungkookie” Jimin shouts through on the second ring.”1 don’t call me that 2 stop yelling I'm fucking hungover!” I growl. “What did you want then boy.” I swallow nervously “So, I kind of slept with Y/N last night” “SEE I TOLD YOU, YOURE IN LOVE WITH HER HAHAHAHAHA YOURE SO IN LOVE WITH HER!” He shouts, my head pounding, the untrue words of denial begin spewing out of my mouth “I don’t know Jimin we fucked like 4 times Jimin but that’s all she helped me cum and I helped her that’s all it was” “Yeahhhh, suuuuurrrrreeeee. When are you going to just admit you have feelings for her huh? It's okay you know”
“No I don’t have feelings for her, we used each other Jimin, It wasn’t like that this guy was talking to her at the club and she told me she wasn’t going to go home with him but let's be honest if I wasn’t there she would have went with him and I can't have some slut for a wife” The insults spew out of my mouth like vomit, my pride never accepting that Jimin could be right. “Dude that’s wrong man, but what if she thinks something is going to happen between you guys now? Like was it good enough for her you think?” He asks pointedly.
“No man I just helped her cum so she doesn’t start going out for some rando guy to get her off she doesn’t really expect anything from it. She just wanted to cum that’s how good little whores do it and from last night I know she's one of the best sluts I've ever met so easy to get her to do anything for me cause she's a sub” “Damn well if you're done with her let me -” His words making me regret my big ass ego and words “Look I got to go Jimin before she gets up I got to get he out of my bed before she thinks I want her there all the time-” “I'm just saying if you won't fuck her again I definitely will I don’t care about sloppy seconds” He interrupts “dude of course I'm gonna fuck her again it's one of the best pussies I've ever had......your stupid dude bye” I hang up the phone and hear Y/N’s door close.
I shower and get ready for the day as a text from Areum comes through my phone.
Areum <3: Oppa I wanna see you today, Lets go to the Park.
Me: No Areum I don’t think that’s a good idea
Areum: Why?!
Me: Because I'm married and I shouldn’t be out in public with another woman you know? If some photographer caught us my dad would kill me.
Her suggestion igniting an idea for me rushing to Y/N’s room. I stand in front of Y/N’s door my heart is pounding, as I knock lightly “Y/n-ie?” a small sniffle comes through the door, I knock again and try the handle “you okay?” her soft voice cracking as she shouts “Yeah...I’m fine” I pace back and forth, COME ON JUNGKOOK YOU CAN DO THIS JUST MAKE IT SEEM LIKE ITS NOT A DATE SHED SAY YES TO THAT RIGHT?RIGHT? Scratching the back of my neck my voice shaky “Did you want to go to breakfast maybe we can take a walk to Han River you said you like going there right?”
“Um...Honestly Jungkook, I'm not feeling too good I'm like really hungover and I'd like to take a shower" Her answer deflates me “Oh....well can I join you then?” I smirk, the thought of last night reappearing in my head, she's silent in return “Y/N-ie? Babe?” The word slipped, it felt so natural. “Um I'm sorry Kookie but I really don’t feel like it” my heart shatters, desperate for her body next to mine I beg “Oh okay, um when you're done can you come hang out and watch a that Invisible Man movie you wanted to see” “Um sure I'll see you in a bit bye Jungkook” I pout staring at the door, confused. What happened? Why are you acting so different? Did you regret last night? Do you regret letting me touch you the way no other man has? Did you hear my conversation with Jimin? No, if you heard that conversation you'd probably leave. My heart cracks at the thought
Did you enjoy giving yourself to me? Did you like the way I ate your tight little pussy? I sure loved the taste of her, the way you took him into your mouth and let me finish there. It drives me fucking crazy baby girl please let me in, I need to fix whatever it is to have his cock back in your mouth. The way her face twisted her orgasm, only thing to escape your lips was my name. My cock twitching as precum flows down. Fuck the feeling of your pussy as he came deep inside you, the smile you gave him when he kissed you as his cum flowed out of your pretty little pussy.
*Last Night*
“Fuck! Yes Jungkook, it feels so fucking good.” Y/N moans loudly. My cock pumping hard into her core, her legs wrapping around my waist. “That's my fucking pussy you got that baby girl” I push her hair out of her face and for her to look in my eyes. She nods “Just yours oppa, fuck, I don’t deserve this amazing cock oppa” Her word disheartening me. I kiss her softly, my tongue exploring her mouth her arms wrap around my neck. I thrust hard and fast into her tight cunt. Profanities spewing from my angel's lips begging me for more. “Never stop I’m yours oppa cum for me please I beg you cum for me”
The familiar knot in my stomach rises to the surface as her climax takes over her and spill my seed in her pussy, she looks at her core and beams at me pulling me back onto her pressing her lips against mine.
*Present*
I rush back to my bedroom with the thoughts of last night, my cock in hand the second I enter the room. Stroking it hard and fast at the thought of Y/N bouncing on my hard cock. Her beautiful tits in my face as she rides my hard cock. “Fuck! Y/N” I moan.
My eyes close, “fuck Y/n your pussy is so tight” The profanities flowing out of my mouth as my climax grows closer and closer. “Y/N yeah baby girl this is your cock, fuck all yours baby girl take it.” A loud thud alerts me I am no longer alone. Y/N’s here and she's heard the foul things he's been thinking about her. My eyes shoot open and my hand leaves my cock I shout “Y/N! I...UM...I WAS JUST....” She smiles seductively and walks toward me. “We’re you thinking about me Jungkook” She teased. I bite my lip and look down embarrassed. “Were you thinking about last night or the fact that you missed fucking me hard into the shower” I nod and sigh “both”. She lifts my face and presses her lips against mine as I pull her onto my bed
The face she makes as I pound into her make my cock twitch inside her tight little pussy. She takes it all moaning begging for more, “Fuck baby girl you take it so good, look at your pretty pussy taking this cock the way you should.... hmmm that’s my pussy baby girl” I praise her
“yes kookie-ah only yours” She tightens around me as her legs shake losing herself in the orgasm. “Yeah oh baby girl I'm gonna cum so deep in your pussy” I exclaim as I capture her lips with mine. “all mine baby girl” I thrust once more into her cumming hard. Jumping up I run to the bathroom, grab a wash cloth and run it in hot water.
“Baby I brought this for you t-” My statement interrupted by the emptiness to my room. “Babe!” I shout to her. Heading to her bedroom, to see if she wants to shower together. My heart warming at the thought of something so domestic. “Baby did you want- what are you doing?!” I shout frozen at her door, a confused look on my face. “I'm leaving Jungkook” she says as tears stream down her beautiful face. My heart races LEAVING?!? NO “why? You don’t want to be here anymore? Did I do something? I can fix it I swear but you can't go...you can't just go when we....” My voice cracking, she interrupts me “Areum misses you and you should focus on one girl Jungkook-ah" AREUM?.............FUCK! AREUM! I run to my room to find my phone. WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY AREUM?!?!? The second the phone is in my hand y/n rushes past my bedroom door.
“Y/N-AH! DON’T GO PLEASE” I shout chasing after her “Areum is just some girl she's not anyone don’t just assume because some girl texted me she misses me that I'm going to run to her” I explain “You were with her last night.....you Fucked her last night not even an hour before you fucked me, my mouth” Shaking my head, pleading with her “No it's not like that I swear like you said I fucked her, Baby girl I can't fuck you. I make love to you please I'm begging you don’t go okay I know we haven't been the best but I can fix this don’t do this not when” ....I freeze you can't leave right not when I tell you how I feel you won't leave me right? “I love you please”
She shakes her head and walks toward the door as the sobs escape from my mouth “Stop please” I rush for the door and slam it shut. “You can't just leave, not after what we just did, not when I love you please” I beg. She smiles up at me and I can tell it’s a sad smile and kisses me. I wrap my hands around her waist kissing her with all the emotion I can to get her to see I'm serious. Soon my lips feel the shadow of her lips as I see her figure rush out the door and into her car. Running after her I grab her passenger car door handle banging on the window “please” I love you “stop” I love you “stop the car” I sob, she looks away from me and my heart completely breaks “get out please stay with me, BABY PLEASE” I shout as she reverses out of the driveway and speeds off. “FUCK!” I sprint after her car “COME BACK PLEASE I CAN'T DO THIS WITHOUT YOU BABY” I drop to my knees the tears streaming down my face as she disappears.
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The Wedding Date
"You're really going to do this?" Your friend asked from beside you.
"It's a little late to back out now!" You told her. "He'll be here any minute."
"Isn't this how people get murdered? Posting ads online and people respond."
"Statistically it's the one who posted the ad that's the killer."
"Of course you know the statistics on something like that."
"Remy, I needed to do this okay. He invited me to his wedding because he wants to see me miserable and alone. I can't let him win." You told her honestly.
"He's winning by you showing up. You should ignore the whole thing and binge watch Netflix with me tonight. What if your fake boyfriend is ugly?" Remy asked you.
"I purposefully didn't ask for a picture of his face. He was really funny over text and that's good enough for me. Someone who can keep up with my humor is more than enough."
"True. That's what was fundamentally wrong with Jon. He was so serious and had no sense of humor."
The girls were interrupted by a knock at their door.
"Can you answer it and I'll be out in a minute?" You asked her seriously, nerves getting the best of you.
"Fine but if I feel any serial killer vibes, I'm sending him away."
~~~
You were thankfully alone for long enough to finish getting ready.
You'd just finished the last touch ups on your hair when your bedroom door burst open.
Remy stood in the doorway looking frantic and awe struck.
"What the hell has gotten in to you?" You asked.
"Um, your fake boyfriend is total real boyfriend material. He's gorgeous, polite, and his smile is the most amazing thing I've ever seen."
"So he's not giving off killer vibes?" You asked, laughing at her.
"You're missing the point!" Remy yelled at you.
"You're missing the point! This is a one time thing. He's here so I can pretend not to be a loser in front of the person who made me this way!"
"Babe, you're not a loser. Jon is a stuck up prick who takes life way too seriously. No one can blame you that you weren't ready to settle down and be a trophy wife. You're free spirited, not a loser." Remy said as she came to stand next to you.
"That was one of your better pep talks." You laughed, pulling her into a hug.
"Alright, well let's go meet your boyfriend."
~~~
Awestruck indeed.
The man, Hongjoong, was a few inches taller than you. He wore an all white suit and his hair was dark and pushed back from his face. He had a few piercings in his ears and was holding a small bouquet of flowers.
When your eyes met his, a wide smile broke out on his face and you were momentarily stuck in place.
Remy was right, his smile was amazing.
"You must be Y/N." He said, walking towards you.
"I am." You said, rooted in your spot.
"You look absolutely beautiful." He said. He handed you the flowers and leaned in slowly to kiss you on the cheek.
You felt your face get warmer as you blushed, but still leaned into him anyway.
"Alright. Well you two should head out so you're not late. See you later." Remy said as she all but pushed you out of the door.
Oh my God she mouthed to you as you turned to shut the door. She gave you a thumbs up before disappearing behind the door.
~~~
The car ride started off quiet but comfortable.
Hongjoong played quiet instrumental music in the background that helped calm your nerves.
"So...is there anything I should know for today?" He asked you after a moment.
"What do you mean?" You turned to him.
"Any nicknames you hate, any details about the ex we haven't covered? Anything that will help us not get caught today."
"Oh....um. Well... Jon used to call me Cookie. I hated that, don't know why but I did. My ex is... pretentious at best. Is very serious, doesn't joke well, and hates physical contact. So just a heads up, I may be real touchy with you. That's what I miss the most, affection. And I swore I'd meet someone who loved showing affection as well as receiving it." You felt instantly embarrassed as you were speaking about affection.
"I think affection is an integral part of relationships for me as well." He said confidently, pulling your hand into his as he rested it on the center console.
You immediately felt the butterflies in your stomach at the contact. It was something so small, but it had made an impact.
"Also" he started, before looking over at you "you do look incredible tonight. It will be harder for me to keep my hands to myself than to show you affection." He told you honestly.
"Fucking hell." You muttered to yourself.
"What was that?" He asked, smirking at you.
"Oh nothing. It's just kind of weird to me, that's all."
"What's weird?" He asked, worrying he'd been too forward
"You...you don't feel like a stranger. I know we've just met today, but we've talked quite a bit before this. I feel like I know parts of you and you know parts of me. Also...you're gorgeous and that may be a problem." You admitted.
"A problem? How is that?"
"I might jump you before dinner is even served."
Hongjoong coughed loudly, surprised by your statement.
"Sorry, just...being honest."
~~~
"Why does your ex look like that?" Hongjoong asked you as you walked past the engagement pictures on the way in to the venue.
"Like I said, he's serious."
"Yeah, but he looks like he's just had an unsuccessful discussion for a peace treaty, not taking pictures with his wife." Hongjoong whispered to you.
You had to put your hand over your mouth to stiffle your laughter.
True to his word, hongjoong had been quite touchy in the last few minutes. He'd helped you out of the car and held your hand as you walked. When he opened the door to the venue, he ushered you in with a hand on the small of your back, which he kept there as you walked.
Throughout the ceremony, his hand either held your or was resting lightly on your leg. You kept stealing glances at him, noticing he was watching you a lot too. You'd both just smile at each other before turning your attention to the front.
Once the ceremony was over, you'd gone to the banquet hall on the other side of the venue.
You found your assigned seats, scoffing when you realized he'd sat you with one of his cousins who was more pretentious than him as well as his stuffy coworkers.
You and Hongjoong were the first to arrive at the table, so you pulled your chairs closer together so you could talk. Within a few minutes, he had his arm around you, giving you an animated replay of his thoughts during the ceremony. You laughed loudly at the end before putting your face into the crook of his neck to try to hide the volume if your voice.
"I'm surprised to see you here." You heard someone say from behind you.
You turned around and came face to face with his cousin Ira.
"Ira. Good to see you as well." You said coldly.
"I can't believe Jon invited you. And you actually showed up." He said, sitting down across from you.
"We were friends for a long time before we dated. Of course I would come support him in his happiness." You replied.
"Yes...but being draped over some man at said wedding isn't really the most appropriate." He said, tone conveying how condescending he was being.
"Oh, where are my manners. Ira, this is Hongjoong, my boyfriend. Hongjoong, this is Jon's cousin Ira."
"Hey man, nice to meet you." Hongjoong said, sending a small wave towards the other man.
You had to stiffle another laugh at the look of shock on Ira's face. Most people got up to greet someone formally, but not Hongjoong.
"Likewise." Ira muttered.
After an award moment, Hongjoong grabbed your elbow and pulled you towards him so he could whisper in your ear.
"So...about jumping me before dinner. Is that still in the cards because this is horribly stuffy" Hongjoong said lowly.
You couldn't have hidden the laugh that bubbled out of you if you'd tried. Though you hadn't tried at all.
"The bride and groom will be arriving shortly. I suggest you look a little more appropriate." Ira said snidely.
"Hey sure man, no problem." Hongjoong said, keeping you close to him.
"So Y/N...still wasting you life doing freelance work?" Ira asked suddenly.
"You mean, doing my job? Yes, wasting my life away earning an honest living." You replied.
"What man is going to be ok with that? You leave for days at a time doing God knows what. Who would accept that?"
"Well, I mean the guy sitting next to her, ya know...her boyfriend, is accepting of it. I think what she does is amazing. She gets paid to travel and write about her journeys. It's better than being in a stuffy old office all day. That's wasting your life away." Hongjoong told Ira.
"And what is it you do for a living?" Ira asked.
"I'm a game programmer." Hongjoong replied.
"Ah, I understand now. You're okay with her lifestyle because you're a bum who plays video games all day."
"Or I'm okay with it because it's not my choice to decide how she leads her life and finds success. I do play games a lot. But I also founded, own and run a multi million dollar company who had the highest grossing game of the last decade so..." Hongjoong said nonchalantly as he took a drink of his wine.
The last part was news to you, but you weren't going to show the surprise in front of Ira.
"Hongjoong...Kim Hongjoong? Of HJ Gaming?" Ira asked, color draining from his face.
"That's me." Hongjoong said confidently, shooting you a wink.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
~~~
Part 2
#kim hongjoong#hongjoong#ateez#ateez scenario#ateez imagines#hongjoong imagines#hongjoong scenarios#fic#the wedding date#jos corner of the world
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All I Could Do Was Cry - Part 2
Word Count: 2,526 words. Prompt: “I’ve loved you my whole life and you’re about to marry somebody that’s not me. I can’t watch you do that” Warning(s): ANGSSTT. Cursing. So much sadness (I’m sorry) A/N: Final part! This had been frustrating but fun to write. It took me a while to get back, and I’m happy with this. I hope you’ll like the ending. Written for @theassetseyeliner ‘s writing challenge.
English is not my main language so sorry in advance. Happy reading!
masterlist
part 1 || part 2 || Epilogue
** Gif is not mine. I found it on Google**
To say you were exhausted was an understatement of the year.
Lying on your bed, you heaved a sigh. Your eyes felt swollen, and you don’t want to check the mirror to see the puffiness rimmed with red, not wanting to see yourself in that state yet. There’s a dull ache in your chest, and you feel like you could sink right into your mattress at the heavy weight of your sorrow.
You’ve lost count how many days you’ve disappeared, fallen into the hole of despair as you ignored the outside world. You didn’t have the energy to do much but lay there, looking up at the white blank ceiling, as the world outside continues to move forward. Thankfully, the office approved your last minute leave as you threw excuses about not feeling well. You hadn’t even bothered looking at the date, overwhelmed by grief of your mistakes.
Should you have told him about your feelings before? Would it have made any difference? These were the thoughts you mostly concerned yourself with, letting your mind roam to new unchartered territory of your feelings about your best friend.
All of which had the same answer: you’d have lost him either way. Because that’s the thing with falling for your best friend, you’ll lose them for having more feelings than the stereotypical framework of two friends who’ve known each other for so long. You’re waging a war with yourself, knowing the outcome wouldn’t be pretty but still battling with your senses and emotions. It’s like playing Russian roulette, with the difference being the chamber is full, but you still can’t stay away. Too captivated by his beauty and kindness.
So you continuously love him, shooting your heart every time you witness him kiss the lips of a girl who isn’t you, firing a round of bullets to your chest each time he tells you how much he loves her.
It’s suicide masked beneath a series of believable encouragements and convincing merriments for them both.
Your phone rings, again, and you let it, not even sparing a glance as it sat on top of your bedside table.
You’ve also been ignoring your friends, not wanting them to see you in this state. Natasha comes by the first night with Bucky when she heard you’d call in sick, bringing an obscene amount of junk food and alcohol that you barely touch. You know they’re just worried, but by the third night (or was it fourth?) you’d ignored their knocking, not wanting company. You texted them a simple reply when neither wouldn’t stop bombarding your phone with calls and messages, telling them that you just wanted to rest, that they shouldn’t worry. That you’d be okay.
But will you ever be okay?
Another call hits your phone, but again you disregard it. You see the bright light of the sun slowly change into a luminescent orange spilling into your bedroom from your high-ceilinged windows, indicating that yet another day had passed by.
Steve smiles at the guests passing by him, trying to put his anxiousness at bay. He’s got his phone next to his ear, another attempt at reaching you. He’s certain you haven’t forgotten about tonight’s rehearsal dinner, raising an eyebrow at Bucky when you didn’t show up at the wedding rehearsals that morning. The simple explanation Natasha gives seems defective to his ears, but Steve couldn’t get more out of her during the whole day, the havoc wreaked from the wedding planner and their wedding crew providing him absolutely zero chance to find answers, to find you.
Soon after, he’s being directed to shower and change for tonight’s event. He should be enjoying himself, a hand wrapped around his beautiful fiancée as they enjoy what is about to happen. He should be out there talking with his guests, thanking them for coming to witness this chapter of his life. He shouldn’t be in the corner, ears glued to his phone as he tries again and again to contact you, worried to his stomach at your missing presence when again his attempts turn unfruitful.
Pocketing his phone with a grunt, he decides to take matters into his own hands. You’re one of his best friends, god damn it, and you should be here.
He looks around and his eyes land on Peggy; she’s caught up with being the hostess as she smiles brightly at people, greeting people with her friendly attitude. If he slips out now, he’ll still make it before everything actually begins. He’ll just say he wasn’t ready in time.
Just as he’s about to step out of the private ball-room, he’s stopped by a firm grasp on his shoulder.
“Where are you going? The party is that way” Bucky says, pointing a finger at the direction behind Steve. There’s a smile on his lips, but it doesn’t really reach his eyes. Steve furrows his eyebrows, looking at his oldest friend with a sceptic look.
“I’m trying to find (y/n). Something’s not right” he responds. Bucky’s grip over him falters as Steve moves, determination now settling deep in his bones to try and settle what was going on. But Bucky stops in front of him again, blocking his path.
“Natasha did say she was tired. Let her get some sleep. I’m sure everything’s fine” he babbled, trying to steer Steve back to the party.
But Steve stood his ground. Something was definitely up.
“Okay. What’s going on?” he asks. It’s rare that he finds Bucky lying or trying to hide something from him, even rare when the subject of concern is you.
Bucky’s about to say something that Steve knows will just waste his time, precious time he could use to find you instead of playing cat and mouse here in this hall. So he cuts him off.
“What’s really going on, Buck?” he asks quietly. “She hasn’t returned any of my calls. Peggy even told me she’s been missing from work for days now. So, please, just tell me what’s going on?”
He’s eyeing Bucky for a few moments, watching the cool exterior of his best friend trying to come up with an excuse plausible enough to get him back inside. But he comes up empty.
Bucky sighed, dropping his head as he ran his fingers in his hair. Natasha was going to have his head.
“Okay” he begins, clearing his throat before looking at Steve again. “Look…” he says, but he can’t find the words to say it. Steve takes in a sharp breath, because nothing good ever follows when the conversation starts off like this. It takes him mere seconds before he’s hailed a cab and telling the driver your address.
His heart is hammering against his chest as he tries to even his breathing, having ran up the stairs to your apartment, the lift taking too damn long for the patience he has right now.
He’s pressed your bell, knocked several times, but there’s just silence from your end. There’s an incomprehensible feeling in his gut, churning his anxiousness into something much more ominous. There’s a sickening sensation bubbling from his stomach when you’ve yet to answer.
“(y/n!)” he yells. He’s thankful that you own the whole floor, leaving him to pounding your door to his heart’s content. He tries repeatedly, screaming your name with each bang. He doesn’t know why he’s riled up all of the sudden.
“I’m not leaving until you open this door” he declares. Again he slams his open palm over your door hard that he swears could’ve made a hole if he’s just balled his fist instead. He’s breaths are labored, not from running up but from this simmering anger inside of him.
He’s supposed to be at a fucking dinner, not bleeding his hands at banging your door. He’s frustrated that Bucky and Natasha doesn’t seem to want to tell him anything. He’s annoyed that you’re doing this to him out of the blue, furious that you won’t open this door and talk to him. You’re on of his best friends for heaven’s sake! You should be able to tell him anything because you trust him.
“Please, (y/n). Talk to me. Help me so I can help you” he tries again, pressing his forehead on your door. He can hear movements from behind the door, the pitter patter of your foot stepping on your floor, pacing back and forth, almost debating with yourself.
The image of you in distress melts his anger, uneasiness creeping its way back to him as he tries to make sense of the whole situation. Did he do something? What happened that made you distance yourself from him? Who hurt you?
He sighs, drained from what the day had entailed. Pulling himself back, he looks at your door for a moment, trying to understand what lay behind them, before slowly backing away. He doesn’t know what else to do but to walk away. every step he took was heavy, demanding him to stop and turn, to try again. That he shouldn’t give up.
His phone rings, a familiar ringtone he’s set up specifically for Peggy, so he answers and tells her he’s on his way.
He’s hours away from being proclaimed as husband and wife, elation coursing through his body as his heart flutters at the image of Peggy walking down the aisle. Steve can’t help but let heat rise from his cheeks because Peggy would be his. He chuckles to himself, realizing that after all this time she still has that kind of control over him.
“You okay?” Clint asks, emerging from behind a partition that gave Steve privacy in his bachelor suite.
“Just excited” he tries to act casual, but he can’t hide his wide smile. Clint pats him with a grin, happy to see Steve in this light because he deserves to have this. “We’ll be outside. Have a drink with us” he proposes, then goes to let Steve be. He’s adjusting his suit, checking his cuffs and fixing his hair. He’s nervous, but the good kind.
“The man of the hour finally graces us with his presence” Tony proclaims, gesturing grandly towards Steve as he steps into the study room where all of his close friends are.
Except you.
A small frown places his smile temporarily when he doesn’t find you where you should be. He asks Sam about your whereabouts.
“Don’t know. Probably helping Peggy” was his answer, handing him a glass before filing it with Brandy. It would make sense since you’re friends with them both, even more sense when he remembers you’re the one who introduced her to everyone.
But there’s a nagging voice in his head, agitation sneaking into him like that night. He’s been restless since leaving your complex, the ride back to the rehearsal dinner filled with him texting and leaving you countless voicemails. Bucky has yet to confide to him what’s happened, leaving a cryptic code of “It’s not my place to say”, a similar response from Natasha when he asks the redhead.
“You’ll just need to hear from her, okay?”
It was wearisome the way you’re silencing yourself. He’s bear witness to your breakdowns before, has experienced this sudden push from you, but never to this extent. You would always tell him beforehand, that you need space to clear your head. But the reasons behind those breakdowns were always told, never was he ever left in the dark like this. It was unlike you and the more he thought about it, the more he wants to go and find you.
“Cheer up, man. You’re getting married” came the voice of Sam, bringing him back to the present. He downs the drink in one go, before placing the glass on top of a mahogany table. Sam’s right, he should be because today was his day.
So he ignores the restlessness that continues to plague him, talking and laughing with his friends before the ceremony begins.
Wanda knocks on their door, her had popping out from the gap when she opens it, announcing that it was near time, throwing Steve’s phone at him.
“You left this downstairs. It’s been beeping nonstop” she tells him, before leaving them. He checks it, and upon seeing only your name on his screen he moves out of the study, needing to hear from you before he completely loses to his nerves.
He clicks the voicemail you left him.
“Hey Steve”. Your voice permeates and he’s glad to hear your voice.
“I’m sorry I didn’t answer you. I just needed to be sure with myself that this is something I wanted to do”
You exhale shakily, and his heart wrenches in his chest, as if telling himself to prepare for the worst.
“I can’t go to your wedding, Steve” you croak, pausing for a moment to regain some control. “I can’t go because it pains me to see you with someone who isn’t me”.
An emotionless expression sweeps his facial expression, realization gradually dawning on him. It can’t be he thinks to himself.
“I’ve loved you my whole life” you whimpered, “and you’re about to marry somebody that’s not me” you manage to continue. Steve is standing rigidly, trying his hardest not collapse at your words in this moment.
“I can’t watch you do that” you sobbed, the emotions unable to be contained anymore, your struggle to remain collected breaking like a dam.
“You deserve this. And I am so happy for you, really I am, but it absolutely breaks my heart every time I see you together. I’ve tried to suppress these feelings since junior high but it keeps coming back stronger than before” you manage to blurt, inhaling a shaky breath before continuing “I knew I fucked up the moment I decided to cower behind my door that night, but what right did I have to destroy your chance at happiness? What right do I have to ruin something so great for you?”
“So be happy, Steve. Be happy with Peggy, and treat her with the kindness and devotion you have, because you both deserve it. I’m praying for the best for you and her, because at the end of the day you’re both my friends. You’re my best friend, Steve”
“But I cannot continue living like this. I’m telling you this because I can’t face you, and I don’t think I will ever face you again” you pause, gasping for air to flow down your throat.
“Live your life, continue on and never look back. I’m sorry Steve”
He still has his phone next to his ear long after the voicemail ends. His throat is dry and he can’t seem to move, stuck in this spot as the shock washes over him.
This is not happening he tells himself. He didn’t just lose his best friend over the phone right before he gets married. No, this was a nightmare, a vivid delusion that stemmed from his fatigue, his restlessness from worrying so much, from the stress of work and the planning.
He doesn’t register the voices of his friends behind him until Bucky grabs his shoulder.
It’s then that Bucky realizes what you’ve done.
tagging: @hellomissmabel @@alphaabucky @captnbarnesrogers @barnes-heaven @heartmade-writingbucky @minervaem @rotisserierogers @buckyywiththegoodhair @barnes-heaven || @iamwarrenspeace @memoirsofafangirl @lovely-geek @sarahp879 ||
taglist is open. send an ask if you want to join (: or to scream at me
#erinswritingchallenge#marvel au#marvel fanfic#marvel imagine#steve rogers#steve rogers au#steve rogers angst#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x reader angst#angst#angst royalty network#jabd writes
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[Miraculous Ladybug]: feed your focus
a little birthday present to myself :) apologies in advance since this one might be a bit of a rough ride ^^;
--
[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4]
Link to Archive of Our Own: [AO3]
--
Title: feed your focus
Summary: “It took a little over a week for Mayor Bourgeois to finally agree to an interview, but what he failed to do was confirm the identity of the other woman his daughter was pressing against the wall and kissing to within an inch of her life.”
Marinette befriends Chloe after a particularly shocking scandal that Chloe would much rather forget. Besides, the past is in the past, and there are much more fun methods to be used to distract each other.
Part 5
“Can I pick your brain for a second?”
Marinette looked up from the beat up moleskin she was writing in and saw Chloe staring out the bathroom window with her cheek pressed up against the lip of the clawfoot tub. “Sure. What’s wrong?”
Chloe shook her head, scooping up a handful of bathwater filled with salts, oils, and bubbles and pouring it over her bare knees. “Nothing. I’ve just been thinking about some things, and I thought you might add some perspective.”
“I mean, no promises, but I’ll do what I can.” She reached over to place her sketchbook on the windowsill and turned on the taps to the tub to add more hot water. “Want more bubbles?”
“Nah, I’m good. This oil you put in here is great though. And the bath salts.”
Marinette shrugged and nudged Chloe’s foot with her own under the water. “You looked miserable when you came over. Thought they might help. Besides, Sunday morning baths are a ritual in my house.”
“You seem like the overly romantic type to love reading and sketching while soaking in a bath on a sunny day. Talk about an Instagram aesthetic.”
Marinette splashed Chloe’s knees with a wave of soapy water and smirked. “You wanted to ask me something?”
Chloe nodded and stared down at the water for a few moments while she chewed on her words. She reached over to shut off the hot water and asked, “What happened when you came out to your parents?”
Marinette blinked and leaned back against the porcelain. “What do you mean what happened?”
“I mean, how did they react? When you told them. What happened right after?“
“I don’t know if you’d want all the details.”
“I’m asking, aren’t I?” she replied. “I’m curious.”
Marinette sighed as she leaned her elbows on her knees and scratched at the bun piled on the top of her head. “I don’t know where to start…”
“Was it the kind of thing where you sat them down in the living room, paced for dramatic effect, and dropped the bomb on them?”
Marinette laughed. “No, nothing like that. I was twenty and I guess one of the neighbors saw me making out against the door to my apartment with this girl I was seeing on and off. He asked my parents about my new girlfriend and needless to say they were very shocked and confused. When I came back from classes that day they confronted me and asked me what was happening. So….I told them.”
“Shit,” Chloe breathed out.
“Yeah. I mean, I was going to tell them soon. I wanted them to know, I just wasn’t sure how to start the conversation. But it’d been started for me, I guess, so I sort of just had to roll with it.”
Chloe was leaning closer now, mirroring Marinette’s position and reaching in between them to link pinkies with her. “How’d it go?”
Marinette gently swung their hands back and forth and kept her gaze towards the window. “Papa took it just fine. His sister has a wife, and he’s the type of person that doesn’t think he has a right to pass judgement on how people live their lives so long as they’re happy. He kissed the top of my head, gave me a hug, and didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to, I knew that he was alright with it.”
“And your mother?”
Marinette bit the inside of her cheek and squeezed Chloe’s finger. “She was quiet for a long time. She looked at me like she couldn’t hear me and asked me to say it again. So I did. And….then she looked at me like she couldn’t see me.”
Chloe’s other hand immediately came out of the water and rubbed Marinette’s calf. “Fuck, Marinette….”
“Something shifted is what I mean,” Marinette explained. “Like suddenly I was a stranger to her, because I had been hiding this huge secret from her all these years and now she was seeing me in a whole new light. When it finally hit her, she just started crying and couldn’t look at me.”
“Why?”
“She kept saying it wasn’t what she wanted for me. She was worried about what people would say and about how people would treat me. Don’t misunderstand, Maman has never had an issue with it where it concerned other people. But the moment it was me, she was terrified of how her side of the family would take things. What they’d say about me behind our backs and how they’d treat me at reunions, things like that. She was afraid of the judgement. For all of us, but mostly for me.”
Chloe nodded. “Family talks.”
“Exactly,” Marinette said. “It was more than that, too. She was afraid I was going to get spit on in the street for holding hands with a woman, or that I’d walk into a gay bar and never come out or something like that. And I get that. I really do think she just wanted something easier and simpler for me and this complicated things. But Papa was there next to me having my back, and the three of us talked for hours after that. And once the tears were shed and the air was cleared, Maman hugged me and said that I was her daughter and that she loved me with her entire soul. There was nothing that I could say that could ever make that untrue.”
Chloe smiled softly and brushed Marinette’s cheek with her knuckle so that she could turn to face her. “You’ve got great parents. They’ve always adored you, even I could tell.”
“Your father adores you too,” Marinette told her. “And he loves you, even if he has a funny way of showing it lately. You should never forget that.”
“I know,” Chloe mutters. “But sometimes it feels like there’s a conditional there somewhere. Like it only took one thing for that to all come toppling down. Like I had the power to completely break his heart. Now he’s treating me like a criminal, and I don’t feel like I even deserve to say anything to him.”
Marinette frowned. “You know that’s not true.”
“I can’t have him angry at me, Marinette,” Chloe whispered, her voice sounding thick at the end. “He’s the only family I have.”
“His head just needs time to catch up with his heart. And then you two can talk, really talk. And things will start to fix themselves.”
Chloe laughed. “Your optimism is really annoying.”
Marinette smiled and pressed a kiss to the back of Chloe’s hand. “You’ll be okay. And if you need anything, I’m right here.”
Chloe ran her thumb over Marinette’s knuckles. “I know. I don’t forget it.”
Marinette hadn’t really bothered to go through the trouble of truly getting to know someone for quite a long time. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that she had never wanted to go through the trouble until very recently. Either way, being out of practice had made her forget what a sluggish process it could be and how much frustration had the potential to build in up in response to such a steep learning curve.
Learning Chloe was like learning a new language from scratch. Marinette had a decent collection of words and phrases that she could recall with ease. Chloe drank her coffee black in the mornings and with a splash of cream in the afternoons. She liked sleeping in her underwear and in the oversized t-shirts she stole from Marinette’s drawers. She often wore rings on most if not all of her fingers. She didn’t give off much body heat and always woke up with cold toes and fingers that she always warmed up against Marinette’s skin. She preferred candles and fairy lights to lamps and overhead lights. She was a beautiful singer who hummed songs in the shower every day.
The problem came when Marinette was forced to consider Chloe in larger contexts, and that’s when comprehension consistently failed her. Marinette knew that Chloe had folded up polaroid photos in her wallet that she smiled fondly at whenever she pulled them out, but Marinette didn’t know why she only did it when Marinette was sleeping or when she thought Marinette wasn’t looking. Marinette could easily tell when Chloe was in a mood where she didn’t want to be bothered and didn’t like to be touched, but she couldn’t tell if it was because she was angry, depressed, distracted, or distraught.
Marinette knew that Chloe had disappeared and didn’t want to be contacted while she was gone. But she didn’t know why, didn’t know where she could’ve gone, didn’t know if this was normal behavior for her, and didn’t know if this was the time for her to leave Chloe be or somehow intervene.
Something about the suddenness felt off and re-reading her succinct text did nothing but fill Marinette with more unease. But Marinette didn’t know Chloe well enough to know what she was meant to do — what the best thing to do was. So she cut her losses early and turned to Adrien.
Adrien tended to shut his personal phone off while he was handling Gabriel related business, which meant that Marinette wasn’t able to grab him on the phone until about five days after Chloe had said she’d be gone. The moment Marinette mentioned Chloe’s three week trip, Adrien seemed genuinely confused. Apparently he’d been on his way to meet her for a lunch date they’d planned close to two weeks ago. It wasn’t until he looked through the mountains of unread texts that he hadn’t yet gotten around to checking since he came back from dealing with his business that he realized Chloe had sent Adrien the same text she’d sent Marinette. Back in three weeks. Don’t call.
It seemed she was right to worry, because Adrien wasted no time jumping on the train and making his way over to Marinette’s boutique, bringing lunch from the restaurant he and Chloe were supposed to eat at and insisting that they needed to talk. Marinette offered up no resistance as she put on a pot of coffee in her office while Adrien sat at her desk and started frantically swiping through his phone.
“This is so bizarre,” Adrien said under his breath a few minutes later as he scrolled through Chloe’s Instagram, letting his food go cold next to him. “All of her social media’s been dead since she texted us. Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, everything. She even turned all her locations off.”
Marinette sat on top of her desk and stared at Adrien’s phone from above. “Has she ever done that before?”
“No. She doesn’t unplug. Ever,” Adrien emphasized. “Whenever she goes on vacations or trips by herself, she always brags about it and posts constantly about it. I’ve never seen her go off the grid like this. The only time she’s ever come close was when that tabloid piece dropped.”
Marinette shook her head. “I already thought of that. I’ve been googling her for the past couple of days and all the big celebrity news sites and tabloids haven’t said anything about her. If there was something juicy she was running away from, they would’ve ran it already.”
Adrien laced his hands on the back of his neck and hung his head. “For fuck’s sake,” he mumbled. “Never a dull moment with her, I swear.”
“It must have been a last minute decision,” Marinette guessed. “Otherwise she wouldn’t have forgotten to cancel her plans with you before she left. Maybe that means something happened just before she texted us.”
“I’ve been so busy dealing with father’s finances that I haven’t really been checking up on her for the past couple of weeks,” Adrien said. “She seemed fine the last time I saw her. If anything, she seemed in a better mood than she had been for the past few months.” He peeked up at Marinette through his bangs. “Did she say anything to you recently?”
“Why would she tell me anything?”
“Don’t be modest. She spends just as much time with you as she does with me. She told me so herself. It’s not a stretch to think she’d confide in you about something that was bothering her.”
Marinette set her jaw. “Well, in this case it is. I don’t know anything.”
“Was she acting differently?”
“I mean, maybe there were some days where she had a lot on her mind and she was more quiet than usual. But like you said, she’s been in a really good mood for the most part. I thought things were getting better after all the drama with her and her father. So for her to just drop off the face of the Earth like this makes me think something’s seriously wrong. That’s why I called you.”
Adrien spread out his hands as if they were physically devoid of answers. “I don’t know what happened to her if that’s what you’re asking. But if you want a seasoned opinion, I’d say it was so bad she just needed to check out.”
“What do you mean check out?”
“She does that sometimes,” Adrien explained. “Chloe isn't easily bothered. But when she is, she doesn't react well. We got into a huge fight our last year of lycée, and she was absent from school for five days until she got up the nerve to apologize. Then when that scandal happened, she holed herself up in the hotel for close to two weeks and would only talk to me over the phone. I think the worst was when we were nine though.”
“What happened?”
Adrien sighed and hesitated for a few moments as he leaned back in his seat. “You have to promise you won’t talk to her about this until she decides to tell you herself. It’s a really sore topic and she hates when I bring it up.”
“That bad?”
He started fiddling with one of Marinette’s pens. “You know Chloe’s parents are divorced, right?”
Marinette shrugged. “I sort of assumed something like that. She never talked about her mother, not even when we were kids.”
“That’s because she really didn’t take the divorce well,” Adrien continued. “Her mother had been having a lot of affairs here and there before her father finally put his foot down. I’m not really sure what the reason was, but Chloe’s mother decided she just….didn’t want to be bothered with taking care of Chloe anymore. So her father kept full custody and her mother sort of just left. Promised she’d send gifts and visit her on the holidays, but that was about it. I don’t think Chloe goes out of her way much to call or visit her anymore. She’s become so indifferent she doesn’t see the point.”
“But I imagine she wasn’t indifferent when it happened,” Marinette said.
Adrien winced. “Definitely not. She was fine for a couple of days, but then I guess she couldn’t hold it in anymore because she wound up running away.”
“Like actually running away from home?”
“I don’t think she was gone for more than a day. But yeah. She left the hotel one day and didn’t tell her butler or her driver where she was going. She left a note in her room saying she was okay, but that she wanted to be left alone for a while. Once her father found it, he realized that one of her suitcases was gone along with a bunch of her clothes. The only reason I knew about all this at the time was because Chloe’s father had called my mother in a panic and she had to sit me down and ask me a bunch of questions. We were best friends, they thought I might’ve known something.”
“Where did she go for a whole day if she was only nine years old?”
“Well, that’s why she was only gone for a day,” Adrien explained. “They found her outside a bus depot crying because they wouldn’t sell her a ticket to leave the city. She’d just been wandering around at first — sitting in parks, looking through museums, that kind of thing. But I guess she had every intentions of leaving the city if only she was old enough to buy the tickets.”
Marinette swallowed. “Was she going to see her mother?”
Adrien shrugged. “I don’t know what she was thinking. Chloe never told me where she was planning on going that day. All she told me was that she missed her mother, and that she was just too sad to see anyone anymore. She was going to come back once she finally stopped crying whenever she didn’t wake up to see her mother making coffee in the kitchen.”
“So that’s what you think this is? A reaction to some hypothetically fucked up situation that neither of us knows anything about?”
“That’s all I’ve got,” Adrien replied helplessly.
Marinette snorted. “Yeah? Well I’ll put money on this having something to do with her father.”
“You don’t know that….”
“Don’t I?” she countered. “Did you know she’s been coming to see me at my place these past few weeks?”
Adrien’s eyes widened in interest. “You mean at your house?”
“On the weekends, she’s there almost constantly,” Marinette explained. “When she has time during the week, she comes over right after I close up shop and stays for as late as she can before going back home. She tells me that when she’s not with me, she’s with you.”
“Well, yeah,” Adrien answered. “Before I got busy with work I guess she was coming over more often. And we’ve been going out a lot more, too. What’s your point?”
“She’s barely home, Adrien. That’s probably why she’s been in such a good mood, because she’s been avoiding him. There wouldn’t be a need to spend so much time away from him if things between them weren’t two seconds away from exploding. Whatever happened to her to make her bolt like this, it had to do with her father. I’m positive.”
“Look, even if you’re right, what are you going to do with that information?” Adrien asked. “Confront him? Ask him what happened? You and I both know that’s not going to end well. It doesn’t matter why she ran off. We just have to keep an eye on our phones and the Internet to see if any news pops up. If she reaches out or we find out she’s not safe, then we can figure out what to do from there.”
Marinette raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Wait a minute….so we’re not going to try and look for her?”
“Did you think we were?”
“ Aren’t we?”
“No,” Adrien said shortly. “She doesn’t want us contacting her, which means she probably doesn’t want us looking for her. That’s a clear enough message to me.”
“This doesn’t sound like a cry for help to you?”
“It doesn’t matter if it is or if it isn’t. She’s not nine years old, Marinette.”
“I’m not infantilizing her,” Marinette glared. “I’m just worried. Three weeks is a pretty long time to spend clearing your head alone. A lot can happen and a lot can go through your head in that time without someone to pull you out of it.”
Adrien scowled and turned his chair to properly face her. “Maybe she doesn’t want anyone to pull her out of anything. I get you’re concerned, but if Chloe needs space, then she deserves to have it. This has nothing to do with us, so it makes no sense for us to start meddling.”
Marinette gripped the edges of the desk and glared into her lap. “It involves us….” she muttered.
“Just because she’s been confiding in us doesn’t mean we have permission to go poking our noses into her business if she doesn’t want us to.”
“You don’t get it!” Marinette insisted. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“Then uncomplicate it for me! Is there something I don’t know?”
Marinette snorted weakly at the irony and swallowed back all the secrets that Chloe had only given to Marinette, right along with the sordid details of a relationship that Marinette hadn’t ever tried to put into words. The weight of it all settled thick and heavy in her stomach, and she hoped the worry it was etching onto her face wasn’t obvious enough for Adrien to think she really was hiding something. She rubbed one of her eyes and quickly jumped onto a separate train of thought. “All I’m saying is that you know better than anyone else how terrified she is of disappointing him. He’s the center of her world, and he’s always given her everything she asked for because he adores her. How else is she going to react when he pulls all that out from underneath her and tells her that he suddenly doesn’t give a shit about her feelings?”
Adrien softened his gaze and bit the inside of his cheek as he reached out to lay a hand on Marinette’s knee. He waited until she was looking at him before he spoke again. “I’m not denying that, okay? Trust me, I know exactly what kind of nonsense he’s been feeding her ever since he found out about that woman she was with. I’m not trying to trivialize what she’s going through.”
“I know you’re not,” Marinette said. She sighed and looked up at the ceiling, smirking at the absurdity of it all. “She hurts , Adrien. I’ve gotten so used to her that whenever she lets things fester or starts to shut down, it makes me feel sick. Like I have to do something about it for her sanity and for mine. I feel like I got tricked into this, but now it’s too late because whenever I think about her having to wade through her father’s bullshit after she did nothing wrong….I don’t know, it pisses me off. She’s spent enough time alone.”
There was an inside joke that Marinette had with herself about Chloe — the only times where Chloe managed to be pleasant and approachable were the times when her father was around. He came to all of her concerts to record her acapella solos, he sat in the audience and held up decorated signs with Chloe’s name on it when she had a ten second speaking role in a play, and some days he’d surprise her outside of school by pulling up in his own car and coming to pick her up instead. The days where she jumped into his arms and hugged him — telling him how she loved him and laughing sweetly when he told her how much he loved her back — managed to soften how Marinette saw her for a few moments before Chloe slipped right back to her antagonism. Her love for her father was one of the more beautiful things about Chloe, and seeing it have to come face-to-face with his intolerance was like watching her slowly suffocate while her father looked on, thinking her growing silence meant compliance.
“It’s not just you,” Adrien promised her. “It makes me angry too. But sometimes Chloe doesn’t tell you things and doesn’t involve you in things even though you think she should. That’s just how she is. I’ve never really seen the point in stepping on her toes about it. That’s why I think we shouldn’t intrude.”
Marinette gave him a small smile. That certainly sounded like Adrien. He was very careful with his friends and wasn’t the type to pry or go against someone’s wishes even if he felt that it could be helpful. Unfortunately, Marinette wasn’t that passive. “Then who does she tell everything to?”
“No one,” Adrien chuckled. “Chloe doesn’t give all of herself to anyone.”
It was annoying how much the silence of Marinette’s apartment bothered her now. Before it had simply been an unfortunate side effect of living where she did, which Marinette gracefully accepted for the sake of taking advantage of the practical location and the beautiful view. Now it just felt uncomfortable, like the aftermath of a raucous celebration that left the space cluttered with an uncanny stillness after all the noise and excitement had been robbed by the late hour. She hadn’t realized how accustomed she’d become to sketching and going through bills in the kitchen while Chloe watched television in the living room, her running commentary turning into a calming hum in the background. It was hard not to laugh at Chloe when she got particularly shrill, and it actually put her in a better mood as she plowed through all the work she was forced to take home with her.
Now she couldn’t even pick up a pen without being distracted by the ringing in her ears and the echoes that pounded through the living room every time she so much as set down her coffee mug. It was less that she missed her and more that she’d become Marinette’s new normal, and having her so violently ripped out of her weekly routine made everything feel tilted. It made her spend more hours in her office and pile herself on with more work just so that she could push herself just enough to keep her mind from focusing on anything else but her job.
However, the ironic part about that strategy was that the more time she spent in her boutique, the more her discomfort about Chloe came barreling straight into her every time she saw the occasional customer loitering around in her store and pretending to examine her stock before skulking out the store with no purchases to speak of.
It wasn’t difficult to tell they were sent by Mayor Bourgeois. Every time she made eye contact with one of these customers or offered to help them look for something to buy, they took pains to get out of the store as quickly as possible as if they were afraid they’d been caught. They were often followed by strangers who’d come inside looking for their friends, cousins, or girlfriends while rattling off descriptions that perfectly matched Chloe’s to other customers before Marinette intercepted and gently pushed them out the store. And as if that wasn’t aggravating enough, every time Marinette’s phone rang, she wasn’t sure if she was speaking to a potential customer or gearing up for an interrogation about which local celebrities frequented her shop.
Marinette suspected that the excessive detail was because Mayor Bourgeois was also feeling anxious over the whereabouts of his daughter. Adrien had already told her that he’d been calling him regularly and asking for any information or insight as to where his daughter could have disappeared. Perhaps checking all of the places Chloe loved spending time in and speaking to the people who knew her the best was the most effective and logical strategy for finding information about Chloe, and Marinette really wanted to believe that this was the reason for all of her unwanted guests. But the surveillance made her feel like she was a suspect, and Marinette did not forget how much Mayor Bourgeois seemed to think Chloe was gambling away the rest of her reputation by playing frivolous games with another woman in an attempt to embarrass or spite him. She did not forget the night when Chloe told her that her father seemed to think Marinette was someone to worry about.
Every stare one of the mayor’s spies sent from the corner of their eyes felt piercing. Like they knew how close Chloe and Marinette had gotten. Like Chloe’s father knew. Like maybe this wasn’t just him indulging his paranoia, and maybe this was just a way of confirming for himself what he already knew for sure.
It bothered her so much during her walk back to her apartment at the end of the day that Marinette drew all of her blinds and checked the locks on her doors three times as if she were afraid that someone from the outside was peering into her space with malicious intentions. The fear had always been there since the morning after their first night together — what if Chloe’s driver wasn’t as discreet as she hoped he was, what if Chloe wasn’t careful enough, what if Chloe’s father was just a bit too nosy? A bit too perceptive?
After all, news that his daughter was amusing himself with another woman would be enough to infuriate him, and that anger directed at Chloe seemed like exactly the sort of thing that would make her react the way she did.
It didn’t matter that it was just a theory built on little proof. Marinette’s mind was already morphing the idea into a slew of negative aftermaths that were enough to make her feel like she was physically buckling under the pressure of the past few days. A week and a half with no updates. Adrien was just as clueless as she was. She was dreading doing to work tomorrow to face more of Mayor Bourgeois’s nonsense. She had so much work she needed to do and so much sleep that she needed to catch up on. And her apartment was still so fucking quiet that she couldn’t calm herself down long enough to think .
It wasn’t until she’d chased down one too many painkillers for her migraine and curled up on the couch with the warmest robe she could find that her cellphone, sitting innocently on the coffee table, began to look tempting. Marinette dismissed all of her work notifications and scrolled through her recent calls until she found Chloe’s number. She could already hear Adrien scolding her for the slip up, but she just needed to know. She needed to know what Chloe was thinking, what Chloe needed, and what Marinette was supposed to be doing. Perhaps Adrien thought that all this wasn’t his business and that he had no reason to get himself involved, but Marinette felt differently.
The dial tone rang five times while a dull ache began to press against the back of her throat. When the other line finally picked up, there was a long silence on the other end. Only the white noise of the air around the receiver and the dull sounds of what might have been traffic in the background were audible. Marinette could hear the phone shifting, but she didn’t dare break the silence first. Instead the two of them sat together and listened to the muted sounds of their breathing before Chloe spoke through her hoarseness. “ Is that you, Marinette? ”
Chloe didn’t sound angry. She sounded tired and quiet, and Marinette could tell her lips were close to the mouthpiece, as if she were cupping the phone close while she spoke. Marinette cleared her throat. “Yeah. It’s me.” She bit her lip and tried to smile. “Hi, I guess.”
Chloe snorted weakly. “ Hi .”
“I, uh….” Marinette began. “I’m sorry. I know you didn’t want me to call. I wasn’t going to, so I’m not sure why I did.”
“ To be fair, I knew the minute I sent that text you weren’t going to fucking listen to it. You never listen to me. I’m surprised you lasted this long.”
Marinette laughed, grateful that her tone didn’t sound harsh. “I think I did pretty good.”
“ By your standards, I guess.”
“An accomplishment all the same, though, right?”
“ I’ll mark it as a win for you in my diary later .”
The familiar banter was like a wash of relief and Marinette clung to it if only to convince herself that Chloe wasn’t as worse off as she knew she was. But Chloe’s soft laughter was short lived, ending with a long sigh that trembled at the end and made Chloe sound impossibly small. Marinette swallowed and figured she shouldn’t waste the phone call with things that weren’t important. “I just wanted to check on you. See how you are.”
“ I’m alright,” Chloe said. “ Just trying to get some fresh air. ”
“You’re outside?”
“ Sitting on the sill. Windows open. ”
“Where are you?”
“ Living room.”
“No I mean where are you?”
Chloe immediately clamped down. “ Somewhere. Don’t worry about it. ”
Marinette withered. “I can’t help but worry about it.”
“ Well I’m telling you not to ,” she replied, her voice developing a slight edge.
“Okay,” Marinette quickly amended. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”
Chloe hesitated. “I just….needed to get some air. Clean air. That wasn’t….touched by anything, you know? Everything was clogging up around me and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. That’s all.”
“‘That’s all’?” Marinette echoed. “You make it sound like that’s normal.”
“ Yeah, well ,” Chloe muttered. “ Welcome to a day in the life.”
Marinette hung her head. “Chloe, you can’t just say things like that.”
“ Who says I can’t?”
“I….I just mean that when you say things like that you make me worry even more. And then I wonder if you’re really alright.”
“ I told you I am .”
“Oh, stop it,” Marinette frowned. “You sound miserable.”
“ I’m tired, Marinette. It’s late. It’s been a long day, and I’m just trying to rest.”
“I know you better than that. You know I know you better than that.”
“ I don’t know what you want me to tell you, Marinette,” Chloe said.
Marinette took a few seconds to carefully order the words in her head so that Chloe wouldn’t react too sharply. “I want you….I only want to know what’s wrong. I know you say you’re okay but I know something’s wrong. Or that something happened. And I just want to know what it is so that I can help you.”
The line stayed silent, and then Marinette heard the sound of the window closing. “ I’m going to bed, Marinette.”
Marinette covered her face with one hand. “Chloe, please, don’t hang up. Please don’t hang up, I’m not trying to pry, I just want to understand.”
“No, but that’s the thing, you are trying to pry,” Chloe explained. “You didn’t call because you wanted to comfort me, you called because you hate being left in the dark. You wanna talk about how well you know me? Well I know you. And I know it kills you when you can’t be useful in a situation. That’s all this is.”
“I’m not trying to fish for information to soothe my own curiosity, and if you really think that’s why I would do this, then you don’t know me as well as you think you do,” Marinette said. “I’m not stupid. You’re hurting, I know something happened to make you feel like you had to run away from it and hole yourself up in a place where no one could find you. I just want to — ”
“ Help, I know,” Chloe interrupted. “ That’s all you want to do. Trust me, I’m very familiar with your M.O. Marinette the helper, right? Always have to involve yourself in everything because you’re so fucking sympathetic to everything. You’re so confident that you’ll understand everything. You’re so positive people are just going to open up to you and dump their worries onto you so you can swoop in and just fix everything. ” She laughed bitterly. “ You can’t fix shit just because you want you. Wanting isn’t enough. If it was, we wouldn’t have so many miserable people in the world.”
Marinette swallowed and set her jaw. “This coming from the person who had to bribe me to help her when things started to look sour, huh?”
“Fuck you.” Chloe snarled. “ I didn’t ask you to call me to check on me. I certainly didn’t ask for your help.”
“So why did you answer?” Marinette asked. “If you didn’t ask me to call and you didn’t want me to check on you, why did you answer?”
Chloe had nothing to say to that. She cursed loudly and Marinette could her her stomping around the room she was standing in, probably pacing or going for a walk like she tended to do when she was heated up. Marinette pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to bring the conversation back before it was lost.
“I’m not trying to force myself into anything,” Marinette defended.
“ Good, because you shouldn’t. This isn’t any of your business, have you ever thought of that?”
Marinette blinked. “...I think it’s partially my business, Chloe.”
“ Enlighten me. ”
Marinette scoffed. “Do you want a list? A discretion policy that you almost bribed me into, protection detail from the press that you didn’t want to face, making me lie to your father’s overpaid interns and assistants who are fucking crawling all over my place of business trying to catch you in something, thank you very much. And coming to my place to take cover from your father because you’re bored or you need a fuck or you’re too scared to talk to him. Trust me, I’m plenty involved in whatever bullshit you have going on in your life because you forced me into it. So excuse the fuck out of me if I feel like maybe I deserve an explanation when you decide to pick up and leave while I deal with the mess you handed to me.”
“ Oh, don’t pretend like you didn’t happily agree to it,” Chloe snapped. “ You didn’t have to say yes to any of that. You didn’t have to do anything. Everything you’ve got yourself wrapped up in, you wanted to do. Why do I suddenly have to wear my heart on my sleeve for your sake just because you decided to turn me into a charity project? Not everything about me concerns you .”
“No, it does concern me!” Marinette insisted. “It concerns me because you’ve put me in a position where it can’t possibly not concern me. We’ve spent months concerned with each other. You promised me you’d tell me things that were important because we both had stakes in this. You promised me you’d come to me if something happened. You were taking cover from your father in my house and you were sitting in my house , when you promised me that you’d tell me when he slipped something stupid into your head again. God forbid I care enough about what’s happening to you to believe in those promises.”
Chloe didn’t respond right away, and for a moment Marinette thought she’d finally volleyed her an argument she couldn’t return. But she always underestimated Chloe’s inability to sit with the possibility that she was wrong or that her feelings were the ones that were misdirected. It left her vulnerable to a type of scrutiny that Chloe had historically fought like hell to avoid, so she took Marinette’s words, sharpened them, and thrust them back with the intention of causing her harm. “ You make that sound awfully romantic. Is that what you think? We had sex a few times so now we have to tell each other everything because we care so much?”
“Screw you,” Marinette muttered. “That’s not what I meant.”
“ I think that’s exactly what you meant.” Chloe laughed. “ I don’t love you, Marinette. None of what I did was because I loved you. Me telling you what I’ve told you and confiding to you what I have wasn’t love. Don’t make the mistake and fit romance into this.”
“You’re the one bringing up romance, not me.”
“ You’re the one who told me you’re constantly pining for something consistent. Your exact words, right? I have no doubt you’re adding sentimentality where it doesn’t belong. You need to stop reading into things. You wanna know why I ask you for help and why I tell you things? The real reason? No bullshit and no sparing your feelings?” She paused for effect and enunciated carefully into the phone. “ I know you can’t say no to me.”
Marinette felt her eyes narrowing. “You’re awfully conceited.”
“ It’s not conceit,” Chloe clarified. “ You wanna know what happened after that tabloid piece dropped? I left my house to go for a walk to clear my head and figure out what I was supposed to be doing and I happened to pass your shop. And I hadn’t thought about you in years, but then suddenly you were appearing to me right when everything felt like it was going to shit. And then I remembered how you were in school. That despite how fucking infuriating you were, you thought yourself a goddamn superhero. If someone needed your help, it didn’t matter what kind of a person they were and it didn’t matter if they deserved it. You cut yourself open and bled dry for people because you enjoyed it. So I walked in. And I made you bleed dry for me.
“I knew I could get you to feel sorry for me,” she continued. “ I knew I could get you to do anything for me. I liked the fact that if I told you something, you’d pour your heart out for me, and if I asked you to do something, you’d do it no questions asked because you only wanted to help. That’s why I need you. So don’t mistake this for some half-baked love story where I suddenly owe you things because otherwise you’d be severely deluded. It’s a convenience arrangement. Is that clear enough for you?”
Marinette let her words hang and marvelled at how strange it was to be able to feel the volume of Chloe’s words, but not feel their impact or their heat. It made her feel numb to what she knew would have shaken her had Chloe been here in person, nose two inches away from her own, eyes betraying no hesitance or affection, and no way to force a chasm between them and use miscommunications as a crutch for avoiding the truth. Chloe’s voice was mechanical — something that faded when Marinette pulled the phone away from her ear, and that made everything roll off her skin so that she was left feeling nothing. But then Marinette imagined what it must have been like to yell into a cellphone while standing in an empty room, in an empty house, absconded in what was probably some far off location not worth disclosing for fear of someone trying to come find her. Everything would be echoing against walls and bouncing right back, and there would be nowhere for that pain and hurt to go other than straight back into her. Perhaps that was why Chloe’s voice sounded broken when she finished — like had she been weaker, she might have accidentally let herself cry.
Adrien was right. She shouldn’t have called.
But now it was too late because Marinette had trained herself to absorb Chloe’s cruelty and fire it back. It was mostly for self-protection, but Marinette couldn’t deny the sick satisfaction of being able to control the same sort of detachment and disregard for another person’s feelings and use it to tear Chloe down to Marinette’s level. That’s all they’d ever done — take turns yanking each other down by the hair until they were both ragged, bloody, beaten, and equal. In hindsight she knew that such childishness had no place here, but Marinette’s compulsions were strong ones, and she was already pulling out awful half-truths that she knew would sting.
“It’s funny. It’s always easier for you to paint me as the one who can’t read a situation or always feels too much. I’m starting to think it makes you feel superior to know what you’re the one who feels less and has the least to lose. And hey, maybe I get that seeing as how you had a rude introduction to what it was like to care about someone more than they cared about you. But if it makes you feel better, let me assure you right here and now that the two of us feel exactly the same way. Because I don’t love you either. We’re not married. We’re not dating. Like you said: no sentimentality.”
She gripped the phone tight enough to hear the plastic casing creak. “I’m not calling you because I’m some simpering little girl who can’t wait for you to come home. I’m calling because I’m worried about you like a normal human being should be, and I’m calling you because you don’t get to pull me right into the middle of your swirling shit storm and not tell me what’s going on.” Marinette tipped her head back towards the ceiling. “And you know what? Since you brought up the topic? You want to know the real reason I helped you specifically? Because how I treated everyone else when I was a teenager never applied to you. You bullied the shit out of me for seven years, so maybe when the opportunity presented itself, I fell in love with the fact that you needed me for once. I was your only hope, and I thrived off that.”
Chloe’s laughter sounded forced and hollow. “ God….you’re such a bitch. ”
“I’m being honest,” Marinette said. “You don’t know how satisfying it is to know that you are what a person needs . You’re central. Inextricable. Important. I became important to you, and not only was it such a perfect dose of irony after all these years, but it made me feel powerful. And maybe that sounds selfish, and maybe it is, but you sought me out specifically because you knew I’d let you push my kindness as far as it would go, and you’d get to benefit from it. That’s selfish. We’re both selfish. Is that what you want to hear?”
Chloe didn’t answer, and Marinette didn’t expect her to. She wasn’t sure how the conversation got away from them so quickly, but instead of answers and closure all either of them had to show for were handfuls of rot. Marinette felt like an addict constantly on the brink of relapse because it seemed like, when you took away all the excess and reduced the two of them down to their common denominators, they were always going to come back to this. In the context of each other, they were incapable of being selfless. It was always about gratification, and it was always about maintaining the upper hand. The reality was so depressing that now Marinette was feeling herself sink right into the cushions of the couch while the pressure behind her eyes grew. This was them. Chloe and Marinette. Butting heads. Never seeing eye to eye. And it felt fucking awful.
Chloe inhaled through her nose. “ You know before you called? I had gotten off the phone with Daddy. Suffice it to say it didn’t go well, because it never fucking goes well. So I broke a few wine glasses and screamed everything out until I was just sitting in the middle of my living room dry heaving and feeling like I was losing control of everything.” Marinette could practically hear the smirk in her voice. “ And then you called. And, you know, maybe that’s my fault for picking up and thinking that it was a sign or that it was going to make me feel better. I told myself not to answer but I did it anyway because….I’m used to you. You’re familiar and you don’t bite back. But hey. Next time I’ll know better. We’re both selfish, and normal people don’t fuck around with selfish people. Lucky us.”
It felt like the world had gone still. Nothing was moving, everything felt dead, and Marinette suddenly realized how much worse she had just made everything. She shouldn’t have called. “Chloe, wait a minute — ”
“ Don’t call me again Marinette ,” Chloe instructed. “ And this time I mean it.”
The line hung up before Marinette could get another word in.
#miraculous ladybug#ml#chlonette#chloenette#chloe bourgeois#marinette dupain cheng#chlonette fanfiction#miraculous ladybug fanfiction#my writing#feed your focus
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In Conversation: Sabrina Cates on Thrifting, Social Media, and Freedom
Sabrina Cates,
born and raised in New Orleans, is fly as hell and giving me a read on purpose and freedom. We heard of one another through word of mouth and met via Instagram. What started as polite exchange of compliments turned into a discussion about leaving corporate America to build on our dreams, brands and our own businesses. That, is why I chose to sit down with this wonderful woman. Sabrina is a gorgeous, compassionate, light of a human being who finds value in doing what she wants to do, be that blowing bubbles, case managing or channeling her mother at the thrift store.
My conversation with Sabrina will be the first in a series of conversations and interviews with creative, inspiring folks around New York and beyond. In wanting to learn more about relationships, imagination and the world, I also want to give these people a chance to tell their stories in hopes that they’ll reach and touch some of you. I want to expose us all to the way some of us are living out their imaginations and the ways they are trying to love, move, work and what they really think about the world.
Sabrina Cates: I have this thing, I know what my purpose is. I’ve known what my purpose was since about college.
What’s your purpose honey?
My purpose is service. I’m here to serve people who have less than me. To help them, to build them, to work in communities and to grow them.
I went to college originally for sport journalism. I loved sports, I played sports in high school, I had all brothers and I wrote. It made sense. My sophomore year, I started going to counseling for some things I’d gone through in the past and it just hit me. So I was like, I want to do this. I want to help people. Kids who'd gone through what I went through. So I switched my focus to social work.
Right out of college I worked a few corporate jobs. First, with Verizon then as a flight attendant. At a point I felt like I was just living my life for fun. I was flying, I had money, I was never home, but what was I really doing? Who was I really helping? I had to find something more meaningful.
How long did it take you to come to the conclusion that what you were doing didn’t align with your life’s purpose?
Maybe three months before I quit flight attending I realized like wow, I am not doing anything, I’m helping people, but not really. So I went to the internet looking for jobs that would let me use my degree. I hadn’t really gotten into case management since college. I figured, I got this degree and spent four years doing case management work, so why not try to use it.
Eventually, I found a case manager position at AmeriCorps. I applied, interviewed, and they gave me 2 weeks to move to Paterson, New Jersey. They gave me a housing stipend but that was really it. It was more of a volunteer project than a job.
Earlier, we talked about shying away from corporate America. When you are building your own business and stepping away from corporate America, what does that actually look like?
I wouldn’t do case management anymore. I’ve done social work for so long, and I loved it. I do love it. What I would do now is be in the community, volunteer and tutor after school programs. Things like that. I want to step away from case management a bit because coming here, I’ve realized I am more in-tune with myself in tapping into my creative side and that’s like the thrifting brand that I own.
"“When you no longer are moving in a way of worrying about what other people think and feel, especially in regards to you, that’s when you’ll truly know freedom.""
Lets talk about that, because we just shot and you are stylish as fuck, I’m like, who could give a look like this?
So, I didn’t like thrifting growing up with my mom, we were very poor. I used to have to go to thrift stores with my mom and brothers. She’d pick out all our shit under a certain amount. I would complain the whole time worried about getting teased at school. And we did. We got teased a lot. I hated it, but when I got to college, everybody looked the same. Everybody shopped at Forever21. I remember going to the club one day and this girl and I had on the same exact outfit, from the skirt to the top. Ever since that day I decided to shop at the thrift store. And so when I went, it was like everything my mom taught me just kind of came back. All of her lessons.
Was mom fly?
Yes, she was fly! Apparently, to my family, I’m an exact mold of her when she was my age. I can go into a thrift store and can find anything. I can create these ideas and outfits in my mind and I can go and find everything I want. Everything. My mom taught me that.
It is a skill. A lot of people just cannot thrift. Did mom even teach you the styling part?
She didn’t teach me the styling part. She just taught me what to look for. She dressed us pretty fly as kids, for what she could afford. But when it comes to styling, I guess it’s naturally in me. I can’t even explain it.
That just comes from being a creative.
It comes with freedom and really being able to find out who you are. I feel like once I found out who I was and became in-tune with that, my creativity just amped; it’s not complicated. After a while friends would start asking me if I could style them and I’m like “nope! I just know how to dress me.”
So do you ever style now?
Yes, I have my own Vintage Brand called Vintage Austerity. I launched it April of this year. I started the brand because my friends, line-sister, and my favorite cousin Roni started asking me to style for them. Once I started, it showed me that I truly have talent. Now, all I have to do is work on making it a skill. I started selling my thrift items on my Instagram, soon I’ll be selling it on my website. My partner gave me the idea to start these wardrobe parties, to sell my things and so when I chose to do them, I decide to have people really dress up. At the last party I had about 20 vintage items up for sale on this name-your-price basis, and I did not have to negotiate at all. They are quality things that I thrift so people were really into it.
You’re like the middle man, it’s like personal shopping.
Yeah! I am going to start selling other items too. Vintage furniture, antiques, and things. My whole home is thrifted. I love vintage things, from items to clothes.
I want to be full out with my thrift line. I’ve always had this vision of taking a school bus and flipping it into this travel store and taking it to festivals. So that’s my project in a couple years.
It sounds like you’re taking all of the steps to getting there. With your management experience, your thrift parties and such. You’re even working for a start up and not some huge corporation so I imagine there is more room to grow, learn, and practice even more skills, right?
Yeah, definitely. I am currently building their customer service presence on social media.
""Social media, to me, is creating this microwaveable-instant-popcorn-ready-society.""
What do you think about social media?
Social media to me is creating this microwaveable-instant-popcorn-ready-society. It is building up this generation of people who think that their dreams and everything should be ready in 3 minutes, like popcorn.
I do see the positives, though. I've seen people with brands grow and make money. Even looking at my partner, building her brand on social media, selling merchandise. It’s great for marketing and business, if you really put in the work and don’t expect it to happen over night.
What ways do you use social media?
I use it for business and for fun. Keeping up with relationships, but also researching other businesses and things creatives are doing. That's really all I use it for, I try not to take it too seriously.
I went to Chris Rock’s show yesterday and they collected all of our phones, said we’d get them back at the end of the show. I talked with my friends until the show started. Out of the hundreds of people at the show, not one person had their phone out.
I cannot even imagine that.
I hadn't seen that in a long time. Chris Rock even made a point. He said, “I was with my wife for 16 years and my parents were together for 40. I talked to my wife more in that 16 years than my parents did in their 40.” And that's because there were no phones to call and text. When his dad would go to work at 6:45 in the morning, he wouldn’t get back until 8 at night. There was no communication during that time. When he would get home, they’d sit and talk. There was actual conversation. Now, with texting, Instagram and Snapchat, by the time you get home, there is nothing left to talk about.
In that sense, his marriage kind of couldn’t have lasted 40 years. We get so burnt out, in many ways being in our phones.
Yep, and everyone thinks they can have Cardi B’s outcome, coming out of social media. But we don’t get to see the work she put in and so people don’t think they have to work hard to get success. People can't even imagine a life without Instagram.
Being a photographer, especially, I can’t imagine deleting it. I actually get sick being on it so much, but because of my line of work, I can’t be without it. I get lost on there, spending hours doing non-work related shit. Killing my self-esteem and wasting my time.
Exactly, that’s why I try to stay back as far as I can. I still write letters, I journal by hand. I like to read and sit in the park for 5 hours blowing bubbles. I am about not being limited to one thing. If you’re a photographer, take your pictures. If you’re a poet, write your poems. If you wanna flip around and hula hoop, do it. When you no longer are moving in a way of worrying about what other people think and feel, especially in regards to you, that’s when you’ll truly know freedom. For me, I don’t care what people think. At my age, I do what ever I want.
I remember having a conversation with this girl and she goes, “You’re 30, and blowing bubbles and dancing in the street? What about a career and work? What about family? You don’t want to be serious about that?” Why do people think life is so serious? I work, I have a full time job, I have a savings, I am learning about investing. The adult part is figured out. But that’s not all life is about. I want to be free.
I learned that people define you by what you do.
They really do. After I left corporate life I stopped getting pats on the back. People aren’t as impressed that I am trying to build my own thing. People seem so concerned about finishing school and getting a salary with health care and it's exhausting trying to convince people that this is valid way of living.
It’s not your job to convince people that what you’re doing is important and has value. It stems from how they were raised. Older black people were taught that you work hard in school to get a degree to get a good job, to buy a house and car, to have a family, to retire. That’s life for them. That’s what they were taught, that’s what they teach you. I can’t fault them completely. It’s a generational thing. They won’t be as open minded to see it differently. You have to accept those people for who they are and trust that eventually they’ll see your light.
I'm probably the weirdest person in my family and they are still super supportive. Coming out to my brother, who is my best friend but who I also look at as a father figure, I was super nervous. When I told him he responded with "oh, so you like the same thing I like!" My brother has a favorite line: "if people don't like you, fuck them." "if they have a problem with who you are, what you do, who you're fuckin', fuck them." It's not their job to like you, it's not your job to make them. My family accepts me for exactly who I am. They don't understand me all of the time, but they still love the shit out of me.
That's how I support my friends, that's how I support my partner, that's how I support anyone. Do what you want to do. It won’t always be easy, but stay true to your self, and find out who you are. Spend your time discovering and creating you, stay true to that, love yourself first, and fuck other people’s opinions. To thine own self be true.
This interview has been edited and condensed.
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Day 1 - Asheville (2 of 2)
We got to The Mothlight around 6 and loaded in our gear. The sound guy is kind, learns or names, gives more bass mix in the monitor when the singer asks for it. I see our band name on the big movie broadsheet sized monthlong show poster and feel excited. In Asheville we take a walk and make fun of the murals, I tell the band about the Asheville 11 riots and the vegan restaurant that used to hook us up and memories of the anarchist scene that fees antique on my tongue. Kabir passes the rose water spray and so I take off my glasses and spray my face.
There’s a green room beneath the stage floor with a ping pong table and two dozen Battle Star Galactica VHS tapes and two water bottles with pee and an abandoned rocks glass. I beat Kabir in ping pong, Jeremy beats me, I think about the basketball game I quit last month because I habitually got too competitive and hurt or upset someone every week for weeks. I’m still on the group text for that game but I have it muted but I still read the texts.
We go upstairs and I read the first chapter of The Left Hand of Darkness over the course of an hour on a dusty velveteen mustard colored couch. Labor and Jeremy and John socialize and I’m happy to be left with my book, the sunset comes, the bartender arrives with a fuzzy jacket on, turns down the lights, puts on a playlist, takes plastic wrap off of limes. I’m able to get my friend from Carrboro who’s visiting in on the guest list which is nice. I get to share the kit of the headliner which means nicer than usual gear and mic’ed drums too which sounds so solid and big when I kick. I bring my own breakables though: snare, cymbals, sticks.
I find out there’s a few arcade cabinets in the back, make a b-line to the 1989 Atari Tetris cab. It’s not my favorite Tetris iteration but it’s a good one, joystick and two rotate buttons, kind of a soft high score situation because you can feed the machine quarters and prolong a game indefinitely. The longer the game goes the harder it gets though, and I’m rusty so it’s still a challenge. It’s a joy to play. The ecstasy of order, the familiar grid and cascade; the solid thunk of the joy stick isn’t unlike the satisfying fullness of a mic’ed kick drum. With a dollar I put up a casual second place high score and stop short because the opening band, Yeller, is playing. The lead singer is a femme with a merit colored crushed velvet cape, exaggerated mascara that I would call ‘corpse paint lite,’ dainty lace socks, torn fishnets, middle length brown hair that’s pretty but that has split ends. They remind me of how I looked when I dressed femme in Philly in 2015. I miss the way my girlfriend used to treat me when I dressed like that; I don’t miss the way most other people treated me. I miss feeling superior to boys who dress the way I dress now. I think about whether or not I’m much of a feminist as I was since I have conceded the battleground of the aesthetic, since I won’t show up for that fight anymore. I feel a wisp if fear and I am very comfortable. Earlier Jeremy Sharéd his kimchi with me; he said sometimes he just eats a whole jr in a sitting. Their band is hard to describe, it is rock, there is some bass solos. It does not sound like black metal or power pop or glam rock which are the genres my mind assumed the singer’s outfit signaled. The vocals remind me of folk punk, which in my narrow experience tracks with Asheville. Here are people in the front of the crowd bouncing around to the music and they look like they’re having so much fun and I try to let myself dance how they are, I find myself stiff but not too stiff to bounce a little. My body hasn’t done this movement pattern in a long time. In 2010 I would’ve called these people ‘muppets,’ a derisive epithet used primarily to excoriate such people for their putative positivity, lack of dourness, loud outfits and their bubbly interpersonal comportment, something like crunchy twee. Or is it deportment? I’m unbound by rigor typing with my thumbs in the van on the way to Knoxville. It’s nice to write slower and imperfectly.
The opener mentions us before finishing up which fees nice. We set up, slapdash soundchceck, I set up the breakables, change into shorts, fill up a water bottle, settle in to the cage of hardware, make it to the throne only after nearly falling over the cables slopped over the stage like black spaghetti. Big black electric udon, and is it the amps or the guitars who eat the noodles?
Before I know it Kabir has done his intro banter and my body knows it’s time to start the set, and it’s my responsibility as drummer to count off the first song and luckily we practice plenty and so my body knows just what to do and we’re playing and it’s smooth and tight and I let myself loosen up and I head bang and make faces and bounce all around. I know I don’t need to but I think the crowd likes it and I know the band likes it and as long as I don’t get too carried away and forget where we are in the song then it’s a great way to drum as so fun and exhilarating for me. I’m not so nervous like I was last tour. The set is smooth, over before I know it. I pack up quick and try to be courteous by coming back on the stage to ask Kabir if I can help him break down and I carry his combo off stage and get some water. The set was 20 minutes and my shirt is soaked with sweat, it’s a little gross but I feel proud like I have proof I worked hard for my band and the crowd.
I go back to check out the headliner, Yawpers, mostly to be polite and not at all because I am interested in hearing them play. I catch up with my friend from Carrboro before it gets too loud to talk, he tells me about when he was in his early 20s trying to teach his daughter to potty train and not doing a good job because he didn’t understand, anatomically and ergonomically, how exactly girls peeing worked. I like hearing about the story and when the band cuts the conversation short it feels like a mercy because I don’t have to respond or find a way out of the conversation. I wish that I didn’t treat conversations like a trap. I want to not be scheming for a way out of connecting with people. It’s something I can work on improving. I bounce around to the headliner, they sound like Led Zeppelin I guess, no bass at all, cool effects on the vocals modulated by a hdand-operates effectsbpedal mounted on the mic stand. After ~2.5 songs I slip into the back room where he Tetris cab is, pull up a stool, feed the machine 3 quarters and settle in. I push earplugs in and wipe sweat from my palms onto my jeans. I feel really really happy. I love playing Tetris so much. I forbade it for the most part in the last two years, one of dozens of activities I associate with a less stable past, a throwaway activity in a life where nowadays I believe my time is valuable, where I avoid ‘wasting’ time, which is the only way I used to spend my time. It is silly and pointless to play Tetris and I am the best at, here and now. I’m in the zone, my mind feels sharp, the joystick is responsive, I shake off the rust and I am knocking pieces around and finessing rotations in a groove, in the pocket, rhythmic and precise ad drumming, plus with visual proof. I lose track of time! That never happens lately anymore it seems like. Out of the corner of my eye I see Jeremy has trickled in and is spectating from a respectful distance. I love this, I love showing a small audience my curious pointless skill, I play harder and focus and do well. I get out of tight jams with ease. My play is a silk tightrope, or like watching a diligent curling pushbroom operator and the stone slides just exactly right into place. And I do that over and over and when I see my score surpass the high score I point to the score on the screen and later I find out Jeremy captured this on his phone and that makes me feel special and talented and seen.
I finally die but only after I’ve beaten the old high score by 100,000 points, a solid and respectable showing of ~488,000 over 3 credits and about an hour of play. I’ve gotten more than a million points on this same cabinet at the Quarter Horse in Durham but it took more than Han two hours and closer to $5 in quarters if I remember right. I get off the stool and Kabir is losing his mind in that warm exited way he does over my play, tells me I’m incredible, he kept thinking I would die and I kept not dying. This reminds me of how I felt about myself almost exactly two years ago. I feel happy and healthy and hale and held and whole, Kabir gives me dap and somehow Yawpers has not finished yet. There’s a weirdly long spoken word soliloquy from the frontman about his cocaine habit, ex wife, their divorce, some other stuff. Evidently this band had a write up in Pitchfork describing their sound as ‘an expansive vision of Rock.’ Expansive is the watchword as their set tips the scales at about 75 minutes and mercifully ends. I get to introduce my friend from Carrboro to Kabir and watch them connect which is lovely.
We get our cut of door plus extra plus we sold merch so we leave in the black which to me is a shock bc im used to playing show costing money. Our band is good and people really liked it and danced and came up to us after and gave what get to me like sincere earnest praise.
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Day & Night - ch 1
Genre: Angst, AU, eventual smut and dare is say specks of fluff.
Pairing: BadBoy!Yoongi x Fran, ChildhoodCrush!Jimin x Fran
Count: 3311 words
Summary: She was the girl everyone wanted, people would stop in their tracks when she would pass by, she wasn’t oblivious to the desire that radiated from men who wanted her and women who wanted to be her. Even with her wealth and title she still felt like she wasn’t truly living, so when he moves back home and brings back an unexpected friend, her already fragile world would surely fold in on itself, creating a chaos even her pure heart couldn’t handle.
She walked with an undeniable amount of grace, her gentle steps smooth and delicate. It appeared as if she were gliding along with the soft wind that blew loose stands of platinum hair against her sun kissed face. Men stole glances but wouldn’t dare to stare, they knew better. This beautiful creature wasn’t only out of their league; she was out of their world.
She adored the attention, it made her feel even more beautiful than she knew she was. A beauty like hers could drive a man to insanity and whomever she would chose to be with would be living with a curse and a blessing; a paradox love.
And you would think, a beauty like this would surely be snatched up in the blink of an eye, right? But no, her loneliness loomed over her like a dark cloud awaiting to unleash it’s unwanted rain. Why?, you might be wondering? What’s stopping the most desired woman from being truly happy? You see, It all comes down to a distinct last name, loved by many but feared by all. A name that holds so much power and demands endless respect harbours a soul that wants nothing more than to be free. She isn’t you’re ordinary belle, she’s the daughter to a high standing man, a loving yet overly protective father who wants nothing, absolutely nothing but the best for his kin.
But he didn’t know that. And when he did, it didn’t stop him either.
“Miss.” A voice called out, smoother than silk. Her brows raised at the sound that appeared so foreign for it was rare to hear someone speak to her when she was out. A gentle palm was resting on her bare shoulder that only occupied a slender strap from her dress. She froze at the touch but used the rest of her will power to turn and look at whomever would be idiotic enough to touch, let alone speak to her in their life.
Her set of eyes attached to another’s and she swore she could feel herself slowing being drained of life.
“You dropped this.”
Even though her pulse was drowning out any sounds around her she still managed to hear his intoxicating voice over the booming sound of her rapid heart beat.
Her eyes casted down towards his hand that was holding out a piece of folded paper. She squinted as she tried to notice any familiarity but it wasn’t recognizable, not right away at least.
“Fran?” A voice called from a distance and panic striked in her eyes. She knew he saw it too but she couldn’t risk any extra seconds right now.
“U-uh, thanks.” Fran mumbled quickly and grasped the paper from his hand, turning and rushing away without hearing any refusal from the man who watched behind her
“Who was that?” Jin growled as she finally approached him.
“I don’t know, he handed me something I dropped. I didn’t even realize my purse was open, silly me.” Fran awkwardly giggles, moving to step in front of Jin’s curious gaze that was set on the male who was behind them. His stare was now placed on Fran who was acting oddly strange to him but he didn’t press any further, he knew that this was the least of her worries for the day.
“Wait - Jin, why exactly are you here?” She asked suddenly when she realized that today was supposed to be a personal day without any supervision.
“Your father sent me to collect you, let’s go.” He informed, turning and walking away without another word.
Fran stood worried, obviously unsure of what might lay ahead for her. Whenever her father requested her home it was never good. She took one step before remembering the foreign object that was held in her hand. She lifted her clenched fist and opened it to look at the paper that slightly crumbled in her grasp. She took it between her fingers and opened it hoping something familiar was inside to help her remember what it was, but there wasn’t.
It was a number, with one simple word written below it and her eyes widened as she saw it.
889-6754
Yoongi
“Dad?” Fran called outside of her fathers office door after a brief knock.
“Come in.” His deep voice answered and she exhaled before turning the knob and slowly entering the room. He didn’t look up when she walked in and Fran gulped as her nerves began to increase.
“Sit.” He instructed with a stern tone and she did as she was told and plopped down onto the chair before him. Fran folded her palms and just as her head began to bow, preparing herself for whatever scolding she had to endure until his voice spoke again.
“You’re not in trouble Franny.” Her dads voice spoke calmly and her head snapped up to look at his face soft features staring right back.
“Oh?” She breathed out a sigh of relief and he smiled when she began to relax. “Than why did you get Jin to come bring me home?”
“I have something important to discuss with you.”
“Mhm?” She hummed growing curious as to what might be so important that it had to interrupt her personal day.
“The Park’s are back in town.”
Her eyes grew at this piece of information. The Park’s, a name she hadn’t heard in ages.They were once Fran’s neighbours, back when she was a much, much younger. Their family was quite close until Mr. Park’s wife passed away with cancer and soon after her death they moved away, making their best efforts to keep in touch for a while but it died off in the previous few years.
“We’re hosting a party here now that they’re moving back into their old residence in celebration for their return.”
Fran inhaled deeply.
That meant, the eldest son, Jimin would be in her house once again. After all of the years of no communication he was back and Fran wasn’t quite sure how to take it. Should she be happy about his return, he was her childhood crush after all. Or should she be upset, considering he hadn’t even called or sent a text after 7 years. But regardless, she knew that it wouldn’t be appropriate for her to spoil the night with mixed feelings about his return, so she pushed the thoughts to the side and returned back to the conversation.
“When?” She asked giving her father her full attention again.
“Tonight at 9.”
She almost choked on air
Tonight?! She thought silently, I figured I’d at least get a day to digest this, especially if I'd have to see him again. She mentally panicked but there was no arguing this decision with the man before her, if her father said tonight than it was happening tonight. No exceptions. She looked to the clock and it read 2pm, she had enough time to prepare for the evening and still get more stuff done. If she spent 2 more hours out and came back before 5 she’d still have plenty of time to prepare with no need to rush.
“Okay, I’ll be ready. Am I free to go?” She asked looking to her father who consumed himself in his work once again. He waved her off and she stood to her feet and exited the office with no delay.
Her driver took her back to the city so she could continue with her affairs and she even picked up a dress for later that night. When she finished she returned to the house, stealing a glance at the once unoccupied Park residence that now was hosting its previous owners. Cars parked in the driveway, 3 in total, one more than enough for the 2 men that would now be living in the property again and she wondered whom it might be that would be visiting them already. Shaking away her curious thoughts she focused only on looking her best later since it would be the first time seeing Jimin after so long. She wanted to prove that she wasn’t still the kid that he always thought of her to be. Their age only being 3 years apart but, her 20 and him now 23, she was a woman and she would show him that.
••
“Miss. Francesca they’re waiting for you downstairs.” Her maid Nani called from outside her door. But she didn’t move. She stood frozen in front of her mirror, eyes raking over her appearance for the hundredth time in what might only have been 5 minutes. She normally wasn’t like this, she knew she was beautiful but the thought of Jimin seeing her for the first time as a full grown adult, a fully blossomed flower, she wasn’t sure what he would think for himself. Her self confidence was slowly decreasing by the minute as she stared at herself with so much intensity trying to see what he might see. Any bits of flaws he might detect or would he fall for her looks like most men did, appreciating her most admirable features.
She brushed a hand over her perfectly straightened hair, the once brunette colour bleached to a whitish blonde that Jimin had yet to see her with and also ran her palm down over her beige dress that hugged her curves perfectly. She was completely different than who she was before. The once petite girl with dark brown hair had filled out and died her long locks. She toyed with a strand of her bleached locks, wondering if he would approve of the change.
Fran turned from the mirror, realizing how ridiculous she was being over someone who might’ve forgotten she even existed. She pushed the exhausting thoughts to the side and rekindled the courage she normally had to exit the room and join the party that was now in full effect for 20 whole minutes. She could already hear her father scolding her for being late and regretted wasting so much time stressing about something that didn’t even truly matter.
Low music was heard from down the hall as voices filled the already buzzing atmosphere. The reality of the situation was creeping in with every step she took and her nerves she were bubbling back up to the surface but Fran used every ounce of inner strength to push them down.
With a long deep breath Fran pushed open the doors to the massive hall that would occupy the family’s closet and dearest friends.
After a few seconds Fran thought her arrival would go unnoticed until her wandering gaze settled on Jin who had been waiting for her to make her appearance, shooting her a warning stare at her tardiness. She sent an apologetic smile his away but he shook his head in disapproval.
Her eyes studied the group of estimated 30 people, the number being a lot more than she expected, all mingling and eating hor d'oeuvres when she saw him. Eye's bluging and jaw slacked as she watched his sip his drink causally. He was standing in a corner with a group of familiar faces, all chatting and laughing, enjoying each other's company.
She felt dizzy.
He was here.
Why was he here?
The man from the street.
Yoongi.
“Fran?” Her fathers voice spoke from behind her and she turned to see him standing with a very familiar man.
“Mr. Park!” She cooed when she realized whom it was. Joyed to see the man who was such a positive impact on her youth but she still couldn’t get over the fact that the guy, Yoongi whom approached her hours ago and gave her his number so confidently was now standing in her house, metres away. So many confused thoughts running through her mind but she put on her best smile, hiding her burning curiosity that swelled inside of her knowing the stranger was just in the other side of the room.
“Fran, You’ve grown into such a beautiful young woman.” He greeted her before bringing her into a long hug. Fran always loved his hugs, he was a lot more affectionate with his kids than her father, the younger version of her always selfishly wishing he could be more like his friend because when he would hold her in his embrace, a warmth consumed that she barely received from her own blood. Mr. Park had a calmer, more carefree personality than her father, taking the girl under his wing many times as he began feeling sympathy for the kind girl who was sheltered away for majority of her youth.
“Thank you Mr. Park.”
“Have you seen Jimin yet?” He asked his eyes raking the crowd obviously looking for his son.
“No, I haven’t.” She answered but the presence of someone standing beside her dawned on her seconds later.
“Fran?” The voice spoke and she looked over to see a slightly taller but much more grown up version of the boy who stole her heart all those years ago standing directly next to her.
“J-Jimin.” She smiled up at him, her stomach in knots as she took in his manly features. His face a lot more slimmer, the chubby cheeks that filled filled his features chiseled down into prominent cheek bones, his once blackish brown hair died to a much softer brown. Toned arms showing through his rolled up black button-up shirt that was barely able to contain the bulging muscles. He used to be a scrawny boy but now he’d grown into the complete opposite and Fran found herself, once again, completely and utterly taken with him.
“You’ve changed so much.” Jimin commented and Fran wasn’t sure if he was complimenting her or not.
“Uh -” she trailed off only for him to flash his perfect teeth whilst placing his hand on her bare arm. She stiffened under his warm touch, he didn’t notice and yet something inside her wished he did.
“Let’s leave these old ones to mingle and head over to the real party to catch up, yeah?” Jimin suggested and before Fran could reply his hand slipped down her arm until fingers were laced together, the action causing Fran to feel an overwhelming sense of desire to pass out right then and there. He dragged her away without hesitation and lead them over to the area where she once saw Yoongi standing earlier. If her nerves were bad before they were surely ready to explode now but when they neared the group she finally was able to breathe when he was no where to be seen.
“Fran, you remember the guys right?” Jimin asked from beside her and she looked around at the familiar faces that she hadn’t seen since they’d graduated a few classes a head of her own.
“Fran? Where's the little cupcake?” Taehyung cooed, looking directly past the girl whom Jimin was introducing as he didn't recognize the woman before him. Fran giggled and gave a small wave and smile in his direction, allowing Taehyung's jumping gaze to settle onto her, his eyes bulging from his head at the sight of the not so nerdy Fran he was expecting to see. The last time any of Jimin’s old friends had seen her was 5 years ago when they graduated from her school. She was still a brunette than and her taste in style was quite lacking too.
“Wow -" Hoseok let out a long breath, eyes subtly checking out the new version of the girl he'd once been close with. "You look good Francesca, how have you been?” He asked after his orbs finished their approving sweep one last time. Unaffected by the blatant staring by not only Hoseok but Taehyung who's gobsmacked expression had yet to leave his face, Fran shrugged before replying, “I’ve been good. I just got back from visiting mom in Australia for a year not to long ago.” Conversation was always easy with Hoseok since he was the one who kept speaking with her the most after Jimin left. Even though she was always seen as the girl who followed them around as kids they still looked out for her and treated her kindly. She never really had friends growing up due to her inability to hold a conversation for long but the guys always made sure to watch out for her and she adored them for it.
“Australia? When did she move there?” Jimin asked curiously, he knew of her parents divorce but not that her mother moved to the other side of the world.
“A-about 3 years ago.” Fran answered hesitantly, still not able to speak to him without feeling like her heart was about to burst whenever he said something to her. She was starting to feel like an absolute fool, this inability to form a decent answer without sounding like she were in the cold with chattering teeth. The girl mentally face palmed herself, her old timid self shining through and it wasn’t helping her prove to Jimin that she had grown up like she wanted to.
“That must be awesome, Australia is such a cool place to live.” Taehyung said and received a nudge from Hoseok which cause Fran to chuckle.
“Oh, uh, I mean, that must suck due to the circumstance and all?” Taehyung stuttered not realizing how bad that sounded considering the divorce was what caused the move.
“It’s fine, I’m over it now so it doesn’t bother me anymore.” She informed and Taehyung raised his brow at Hoseok, silently proving his words were quite alright to say.
“Where’s Jungkook and Namjoon?” Fran asked noticing the missing members of the group.
“Probably huddled up together in their studio writing love songs about each other.” Taehyung mused finally regaining his ability to function and everyone laughed, Fran recalling how passionate the males were when it came to their music.
“What are we laughing about over here?” A familiar voice rang through her ears, sparking a feeling of recognition.
Yoongi.
Eyes were now planted on the young man perched beside Jimin, the new member giving the group a quizzical look as he took a drink from his glass.
Fran was the only one who stared longer than 5 seconds.
He was stunning. She finally got to look at him full on and he was absolutely breathtaking.
Blonde locks that were previously covered by a hat was now on display, the locks partically covering his eyes as they looked down upon her, the dyed strands framing his perfectly structured face, the colour on his paler complexion standing out shockingly, the contrast between the two shades was a beautiful combination. His dark orbs were sparkling and lips pulled into a warming smile were the shade of a ripe strawberry. His style was perfect for him, a black long sleeve shirt, washed out denim jeans hugging his toned thighs and faded black combat boots adjourning his feet, the simplicity of the outfit really bringing attention to his flawless featureless. He looked like a gift from heaven and she couldn’t help but silently accuse this man of being a lab project because he was undoubtably perfect.
Just when she thought Yoongi didn’t remember her the girls thoughts were shattered when his mouth parted to speak once again.
“Oh? It’s you again.” His voice brought her from her trance and soon all eyes were staring at the pair in question.
“You two know each other?” Jimin asked as he looked over at his friend with uncertainty.
“Not really, I ran into her at the shops this afternoon. But Cinderella ran away before I could even learn her name. Fran is it? Is that short for something?” He asked not even looking towards Jimin as he answered his question. His smirk was apparent as he watched the girl who was visibly in shock from his unexpected appearance at the party. Little did Fran know, she’d be seeing a lot of him than she could imagine.
“Francesca.” She spoke after a long silence and if it weren’t for the men being so quietly observant Yoongi probably would have never heard the name escape her lips.
“Hmm, I like that name. It suits you.” He complimented and Fran couldn’t control the hot flush that settled in her cheeks at his simple words.
She turned away embarrassed by the effect he had on her, today was not a normal day for the young woman. It’s not like she wasn’t used to hearing people compliment her, it happened all the time. But today was going all wrong. First Jimin, now Yoongi; Fran felt faint.
“Excuse me.” She rushed out before turning from the group, ignoring Jimin call after her in concern.
Rushing towards the bathroom she arrived within seconds and locked the door behind her, leaning her head against the wooden frame.
Her breathing was uneasy due to her rush to get away but she knew that her dash to safety wasn’t the cause of her sudden shortness of breath.
It was the intensity of his eyes. The sound of his voice and his intoxicating smile. Once again, the too familiar sense of feeling completely drained by the total stranger consumed her.
And this time Jimin wasn’t to blame.
A strong wave of embarrassment washed over her as she replayed her reaction from moments ago wondering how she could be so easily affected by a complete stranger? She absolutely hated it, cursing at herself for getting so flustered, she was an adult acting like total child.
Only deep, deep down the blonde, who wouldn’t admit it to even god himself, secretly loved it at the same time.
••
#bts#jimin#yoongi#fic#bts fic#bts fanfic#smut#Yoongi#v#chimchim#kookie#hobi#bts smut#au#namjoon#jungkook#taehyung#jin#hoseok#angst#bts angst#yoongi angst#jimin angst#crush!jimin
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Chapter 88: "'Murica!"
#Paula reads SBR#Chapter 88#POLITICIANS. LIE.#Valentine has proven himself scum and should not be trusted#Steel Ball Run spoilers#Part 7 spoilers
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vanderpump rules, season five, episode twelve: i think james only owns one outfit
WELCOME BACK, WEIRDOS!
So happy to see you! You look amazing!
This week’s intro music is a threat - “I don’t want to hurt nobody, don’t get me started.” It feels ominous, but we see Lisa pretending she still dictates how things work around Sexy Unique Restaurant and Brittany torturing Jax by telling him she needs two raspberry mojitos and a vodka soda. She delivers this line with the amused smile of someone who knows she’s torturing someone - despite being a bartender, Jax hates to muddle things. Jax is working in the wrong bar, certainly.
Scheana talks to Lisa about how Kristen’s upset at her and was violently texting her all night long. I don’t understand what these girls’ issue with calling someone on the phone is. Anyway, the bridal shower turned out to be a few thousand - I repeat, thousand - dollars, including $1500 just to rent the house, and apparently Kristen and Stassi assumed Scheana would help split the cost between the three of them. Lisa doesn’t want it to get back to Katie, but completely glosses over how fucked up it is to assume something of someone else’s money. I really don’t understand why Scheana wants anything to do with these people. Then again, she’s no better than they are.
At Tom and Ariana’s terrifying apartment, they’re getting ready for Tom Sandoval’s birthday, which is apparently a “fund-rager”. Shockingly noble coming from Tom Sandoval. The most shocking part of this scene: learning Tom Sandoval and Ariana both have braid people, and those braid people are different people. Have these two never heard of YouTube? After Tom’s birthday comes Jax’s birthday roast - inexplicably hosted by Kristen, of course - and I can’t wait because I’d love to hear what comedy was like in the 1800s. Sandoval invited Kristen and Stassi, too, despite Ariana getting into it with them at Katie’s bridal shower1. Ariana’s point: If Stassi skips this out of a personal vendetta toward Ariana, she’s piece of shit. It’s a charity event. Ariana has been crushing it in the fashion game this season and wears a denim jumpsuit. It sounds like I’m being sarcastic. I’m not.
We go to a paint store with Baloney and Schwartz2, where, after having all of her paint swatches rejected, Katie looks for “dirty pink” paint. She’s confused by this, but I know exactly what color that is. It’s also the name I’m totally going to use if I decide to open a burlesque club. Basically, Katie sucks at her job but also I gasped when Sandoval insinuated that pink is just pink. Pink is not just pink, and if you saw her perform Glitter in the Air at the Grammys in 2010, you would know. Don’t be frontin’, Sandoval. Katie’s mad at Tom because apparently he didn’t want to help her bring gifts from the car after her bridal shower, and I hate agreeing with Katie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am immediately redeemed, though, because I vehemently disagree with the torrent of abusive texts to Tom that followed. Remember last week when Tom said the only reason he was marrying Katie was to make her happy? These two are so determined to do what they’re “supposed to do” that they’re ignoring the China-sized red flags. These two are literally bickering in a home improvement store. And mind you - Tom isn’t back in my good graces, because he promptly calls Katie a bitch, exasperatedly, and says it THREE TIMES after that. I don’t disagree with him - Katie is being nasty - but men… shouldn’t use the term bitch. Even in a sassy “biiiiiitch” kind of way. I openly gasped when he said that and didn’t blame Katie for walking out. If my boyfriend said something like that to me, we’d get into fisticuffs. That’s a great way to get slapped across the face. Katie drives away, leaving him there, and Tom is so hungover he has to lean on a pole to deal with all of this.
I just wonder if Katie realizes Tom isn’t as over the moon about her as she is about him. It originated out of her digging her claws in when the rest of The Group’s relationships imploded - Stassi and Jax, Kristen and Tom. They stayed together even after Schwartz cheated on Katie, primarily because she was trying to prove something, that she had something special because she and Schwartz were the last couple standing. And I think once you’ve spent your formative years with someone, it’s hard to let go. But Katie is unrecognizable now - even compared to the Katie we met in season one. Katie is miserable. Katie is the villain in their relationship and yet can’t seem to figure out why (hint: it’s because you’re trying to be Old Stassi, even Stassi isn’t Old Stassi anymore).3 And Tom Schwartz, unfortunately, is too weak and hates letting people down so much that he’d never end it. It’s sad because I’m sure they could actually be friends - they might just be better together than apart.
Because he looks like what a drawing of a husband should be, Katie believes that’s what Tom will be. No. But then again, she doesn’t really care - all that matters is that Katie Is Getting Married. She’s going to get whatever she wants and bathe in all the glory and attention The Bride gets. Who she marries is an afterthought - it’s just Katie’s Wedding. And I’m sure she loves Tom or loved him at some point, but it really just seems like she feels like because she’s invested so much time in him, and the fact that she’s 30, to not result in a wedding = time wasted. When Schwartz cheated on her her main point was “well, I put all this time and work into you, and this is how you repay me?” And she’ll use that as leverage for the rest of time. Tom and being excited to be his wife and spend the rest of her life with him is kind of irrelevant now - she’s getting The Wedding. Nothing else matters other than The Wedding. Fuck off, Katie.
The most perfect assessment I’ve ever heard about this was “When you marry primarily for the day, what comes after is probably even harder to swallow.”
I am simply horrified by Tom Sandoval’s look for his Birthday Fund-rager, which I can only describe as Sisqo. That’s the only description I can think of. He arrives with a giant check, and The Gang’s all here! James doesn’t know how old Tom is - 33? 34? Peter/Ray Romano arrives with Brittany and Jax, and Brittany’s mom. For real, I’m sad I skipped last week’s recap because I would have just talked about Brittany’s mom. Our new president is one orange motherfucker and he would be offended by how orange Brittany’s mom is. Brittany’s mom is so Kentucky and so burnt KFC is suing her for copyright infringement. Brittany’s mom was the inspiration for Ellen Barkin’s character in Drop Dead Gorgeous. I bet Brittany’s mom wears wigs. Brittany’s mom is… a lot. A lot to handle. Like a basketball you’ve left on a concrete playground in the summertime and then it’s time to go inside for lunch and you grab it and immediately throw it away because it’s burning your hands off.
Scheana approaches James and his underage girlfriend and is like “I’m glad you’re still together considering James fucked half of the restaurant.” The whole Elly situation is brought up - Scheana is so desperate for camera time she’ll bring up drama from ten episodes ago - and the whole conversation is awkward. AGAIN: SCHEANA. DID YOU FORGET WHAT YOU DID AND WHO’S HUSBAND YOU SLEPT WITH IN ORDER TO GET THE VERY SHOW YOU ARE ON? But... Scheana’s kind of right, James’s girlfriend must be obtuse or something to pretend like she’s cool with him sleeping around LA while she’s in school. Queen Lisa arrives and gives $500 to the charity - which is interesting, because we immediately lead into Scheana talking to Kristen and Stassi about Katie’s bridal shower, and how unfair it is to assume she would split $1500 three ways.4 She’s also right in that it would be a lot cheaper if all the bridesmaids chipped in - there are eight of them, JFC5 - but Kristen and Stassi are about to go in about what they paid for the event when Katie arrives, bursting the hateful bubble. Kristen and Stassi immediately start kissing her ass and saying she looked “chic as fuck” at the bridal shower and I just rolled my eyes and gagged. The way Kristen says it is so kiss-assy, it’s horrific.
Jax is trying to make a $200 donation to the charity when his card is declined, and everyone laughs at him. Is that what happens when you keep all your money in gold in a safe? Brittany points out that she works more than he does, and her card goes through. She then demands that he make her a sandwich.
Brittany is the hero we all deserve.
Tom’s birthday cake is about 12 donuts, which is weird considering there are hundreds of people in there. Schwartz greets Brittany and Stassi with Jager bombs, and a shudder went down my spine just at the thought of it. Jager bombs taste like high school. Any alcohol mixed with Red Bull tastes like high school to me.
What occurs next is a montage of Lisa Explains It All: Tom and Ariana talk to Lisa about Lala, and apparently Lala has a problem with showing up to work, and whereas in any job where you no call/no showed you would be fired, Lisa’s just offended. Katie tells her that Tom called her a bitch, and Lisa’s like “why are you two not working your stuff out?” MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY LISA. Lisa always takes Katie’s side, though - it drives me crazy. Tom is usually in the right, and yet Lisa has a vendetta against him for walking out in the middle of a shift at PUMP. Tom sounded overjoyed that things were seemingly back to normal with him and Baloney but really? They just threw another thing under the rug. Their relationship is so dysfunctional.
Oh, goody, we get to see the first fractures in Scheana and Shay’s marriage! Shay’s been staying out late at the studio and lashing out at Scheana, which makes Scheana sad. She doesn’t feel like she can talk to Stassi/Kristen/Katie about it because when they get drunk, they’ll throw it back in her face. Scheana feels like they only want to talk about Katie and Katie’s wedding and Katie’s stuff - uhhhhhhh, Scheana, have you forgotten what a Bridezilla you were or how thirsty you were to be in this very wedding? Ariana makes the valid point that if your friends don’t support you, then fuck them. Meanwhile, Stassi’s mad at Scheana for not sticking up for them when Ariana was telling them she doesn’t give a fuck about them but feels like they can’t go to Scheana about it, either. These people and their communication issues, god damn.
Tom’s fund-rager raised $8,600 for charity. Not too shabs.
We’re at the Redbury where James literally pushes a button, plugs in his iPod, and he’s set up to go for his “residency”. This whole scene is pointless but James needs a paycheck this week.
At Sexy Unique Restaurant, Peter is freaking out because they’re understaffed, as per usual with Peter. Lala’s not back and yet that bitch STILL HAS A JOB. Scheana and Katie are talking about Katie’s fight with Tom, and Scheana brings up that the two of them fight like crazy when they’re drunk, and Katie flat out tries to deny that. She’s like “yeah, he’s crazy.” and Scheana’s like “No. You have a massive drinking problem that’s affecting your relationships and should get help.” She doesn’t actually say that because Scheana doesn’t know how to help people with problems, like her husband! What’s more uncouth is that Scheana brings up to Katie about Kristen’s torrent of drunken abusive texts about the bridal shower. That argument should have stayed between Kristen, Stassi, and Scheana. It’s gross to tell someone how much you spent on them. What’s worse is that apparently, Kristen is angry at Scheana for talking to Ariana. Oh, come on. Are we rehashing this again?
Jax, Brittany, and Brittany’s mom all go to dinner before Jax’s birthday roast, where they order ribeyes and Brittany’s mom isn’t used to the fast pace of their LA lifestyles. Sometimes I feel like people from the south really are caricatures, and then I remember I’m an asshole. Jax feels the need to prepare Brittany’s mom for whatever could be said about him - and there’s a lot of things. Will Channing Tatum6 be there? Jax refers to his actions as “silly”, which is hilarious because he’s actually done some terrible things in his life - cheated on his ACTs, put ChapStick on his scantrons in college, stole a pair of sunglasses from a Sunglass Hut.
At Scheana and Shay’s, Tom Sandoval comes in to brainstorm ideas to break Jax, and to talk about how Kristen and Stassi enable Katie’s shitty behavior because they’re afraid of her wrath. Very true. What’s ironic is when Scheana, after her weird views on addiction last year, now she wants to suss out Katie’s drinking problems? I have never been nice to Scheana in this blog - in fact, I would consider myself to be rough on her at times, especially after last year when she completely bungled Shay's issue with drugs - now she’s the Voice Of Reason when it comes to people’s alcohol problems? Shut up, Scheana.
Now for a part of this show that I can relate to - Katie and Stassi are at a pot dispensary! Katie’s looking for something to make her less irritable, Stassi’s looking for something to help her sleep. They qualified for their medicinal marijuana card - who doesn’t in California, right? - and then they get to explore all the fun things that come from dispensaries. Man, I hate being envious of these people7, but this would be the only reason for me to move to California8. Katie and Stassi talk about Scheana bringing up how much it cost to have the bridal shower. I don’t care about this, I literally only want to know what they bought from the dispensary. LITERALLY. SHOW ME THE GOODS. I bet Katie is that girl who gets all falsely “inspired” when she’s stoned and talks about colors and emotions. I don’t think Stoned Katie would be an improvement on Tequila Katie.
Sidebar: getting a marijuana card isn't going to solve the Tequila Katie problem. If she wants to continue drinking, she really needs to head to therapy and figure out what's bothering her that can only come out while she's drunk and what's she's going to do about it.
Kristen comes over to Brittany’s apartment so she can help Brittany prepare for the roast because Brittany’s far from a comedian and Kristen is still pretending to be one even though she's not funny. Brittany, you make me laugh and bring me joy on a regular basis - you do you, girl. We’re unworthy of being in your presence. They make jokes about how Jax asked Brittany to move in within the first 20 minutes of knowing her - I guess when you’re 9000 years old you move quickly because Death Looms Ahead - and Brittany finds out that Tom Sandoval is going to bring up Kentucky Fried Cunnilingus 2016 at the Roast, and Brittany’s mom’s like “oh, what? That’s not cool.” Brittany’s mom is clearly uncomfortable with the notion of homosexuality and her daughter, and it’s just the tip of the iceberg.
Jax’s roast/500th birthday party starts, and the whole gang’s here! Honestly, I really don't understand the reasoning behind Brittany bringing her mom to the roast. I get her not wanting to leave her mom out, but I would be mortified if my (homophobic) Christian conservative mother heard all of these things about the man I moved across the country for. So uncomfortable. Kristen makes a joke about Ariana and her sleeping with the same man, and her intro is uncomfortable.
But it’s okay because Ariana gets the best slam in: “Thank you for the intro, Kristen, you might want to wipe your mouth, there’s still a little bullshit on the corner. Also, why are you MCing this? At least when Jax fucked you, it was so bad that you kept your mouth shut for once.” And Kristen gives her this look:
It is amazing. Ariana is amazing. Ariana jokes about shoplifting, how he got a stripper in Vegas pregnant, and calls him a “horrible warning.” Katie’s punchline delivery can only be considered to be Cookie Monster-lite, she sounds like she’s burping and growling. Scheana points out how Jax is full of non-sequiturs and doesn’t know how to speak. Shay calls Jax fat because coke bloat is real and Jax Taylor is the perfect example of that. Sandoval mentions that it’s always “allergy season” with Jax, because more cocaine jokes, and then makes a joke that if he had been better in bed, Brittany wouldn’t have had to jump into bed with Kristen, and Kristen covers Brittany’s mom’s ears. Sandoval reveals a portrait of hungover, coked-out Jax done in Andy Warhol style, and it’s marvelous.
Stassi just tells a story about how she met Jax when she was single, and Jax showed up to meet her with another girl. For Stassi, it’s weak, but it’s a good effort. Lisa gets her digs in via video, mostly that she wants the stuff he stole back and tells him not to send people pictures of his dick. Brittany rocks - she makes a dig about how Jax is a baby, and how he stole her heart like he stole her a pair of sunglasses. Four out of seven of Katie’s bridesmaids have slept with Jax, apparently. Tom Schwartz brings up the rumors about Jax sleeping with men9 and Jax definitely isn’t happy about that one being brought up in front of Brittany’s mom.
After the roast is over, Kristen and Tom Sandoval get into it because Kristen asked Tom not to mention Kentucky Fried Cunnilingus 2016 and Tom did anyway. Brittany’s mom was a good sport about everything - except the homosexuality part. She literally says “ nothing bothered me except the homosexual part,“ which is easily one of the most homophobic sentences I’ve heard in a while. It doesn’t matter where you’re from, homophobia just won’t fly anymore.
Next Week: Tom’s trying on suits! Katie’s being forced to paint Lisa’s VIP room like Lisa can’t hire someone to do it for her. Katie, Stassi, Tom, and Ariana get into it at a ‘drink and paint’ thing. Brittany’s mom confronts Jax about being a homosexual and Jax walks in. Scheana crashes James’ DJ set with Elly, and it looks like shit hits the fan again with Dr. DJ James Kennedy, Esq.
See you tomorrow for The Bachelor!
Random Assessments from the Desk of Amanda:
Katie does not know how to dress her body. She’s looked nothing more than frumpy every episode this season.
Katie is literally incapable of admitting she did anything wrong.
James doesn’t know that “infiltrated” is a word.
I truly believe the "Katie and Scheana" talk at Sur scene was filmed before Tom's party. Their hair and makeup was EXACTLY the same. I'm becoming convinced they just show up at Sur, put on the outfit, film their scenes and leave.
Ever since someone pointed out that Tom Sandoval looks like Clea DuVall, I cannot unsee.
What is wrong with me that I find Shay hot now? He’s looking damn good lately. Have I written that on this blog before?
Of course Brittany’s mom’s name is Sherri.
Since I didn’t recap it last week - yes, I am on Ariana’s side. As always. Kristen and Stassi are so desperate for camera time now, it’s palpable. ↩︎
This sounds like the name they would put on a sandwich in a “cheeky” deli somewhere in the Village. ↩︎
Make Stassi Great Again, tbh. ↩︎
This line totally doesn’t work but it’s kind of a math problem and I’m cool with it. Segues are not my forte. ↩︎
Also, I did the math on this - if half a shift brings in $200 for Scheana and the gang, these servers are bringing in $96k a year. Oh my god. Can I work at Sexy Unique Restaurant, then? ↩︎
Or as my mother calls him, Channum Tating. ↩︎
Anyone else shocked this dispensary allowed them to shoot there, too? ↩︎
Or if I get a job. SOMEONE IN CALIFORNIA HIRE ME. PREFERABLY SOMEONE IN THE ENTERTAINMENT INDUSTRY. ↩︎
A rumor I firmly believe to be true. I think Jax is a “a hole is a hole is a hole” type of guy. No judgment. ↩︎
#vanderpump rules#feels good to be back#damn it feels good to be a gangsta#this blog is so important to me#this blog is also late as hell#i edited this while jamming to kiss from a rose#recap#reality tv
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