#why did they frame his having a side chick as normal and accepted by the others

[whenthegoldrays]

This is a random thing but I was thinking of Barney and Thelma Lou from The Andy Griffith Show and what a hot mess that relationship was??? Like, beneath the iconic moments where they'd get caught together and Barney would have lipstick all over his face, he was generally an awful, awful boyfriend who never made Thel a priority and actively cheated on her throughout their four years together. Why exactly do people remember them fondly? All I remember feeling during most of their episodes was blind rage toward Barney, and extreme relief when they finally called it quits and Thelma Lou married someone else.

[sunjaesol]

“The simple act of being in love with you is enough for me.”

jiara | post-s2 | pining idiots | title: quote by Pacey from Dawson's Creek

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“Kie.”

“Hm?” The girl’s mop of curls obscured her face as she mumbled out some vowels, clearly still buzzed from the night before. An amused smile ticked up his lips and slapped her calf again. She sighed. “What?”

“Leggo,” he pushed, “we gotta get to Pope’s place.”

“Why?”

Even if everyone else would deny it, JJ swore Kie was as bad as he was: slow and fucking lethargic before eleven in the morning. Sure, she had better grades in school, but he wasn’t gonna give her more credit than that. Speaking of, “Helping him with that new scholarship, remember?”

The girl groaned and rolled over to face him, droopy eyes cracking open to scowl at him. She slept where he used to crash whenever his dad’s place became too much, but since the old man fucked off to Yucatán, he found peace in the quiet walls and cracked windows. Regardless, it was weird seeing her sprawled on this mattress, the boy almost able to envision himself beside her. A dangerous fantasy to linger on, so he pushed it aside and kept on trucking.

“C’mon, Kie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered and sat upright. “How did you even get in the Château?”

JJ grinned and snagged a key chain from his shorts. “Spare key. Duh.”

She rolled her eyes, uttering, “John B’s stupid,” and then pushed him out the guest room, telling him she’d get ready. His mouth opened to make the joke if he couldn’t stay and watch, but the door slammed in his face and that was that.

Having a crush on Kiara was the freakiest thing ever. First of all, JJ and emotions didn’t mesh well — it only led to trouble, a perfect example being his dad and him with the most fucked up dynamic to boot. He preferred to not even think about the man, though one glance in the mirror often betrayed his mind and brought a rush of memories to the forefront, whether it was a shiner against his eye, or the fact that he resembled his father when he was young.

So yeah, he didn’t like anything ‘love’ related. It was stupid. It was more reckless than buying a jacuzzi or trying to steal a golden cross from a boat with dozens of armed men. Friendship, however, was easy. He told the Pogues just that: they were ‘it’ for him, he’d go through fire for them, through hell and fucking back.

But he didn’t think he’d actually die for them, which almost happened when he tried saving Kie on the Coastal Venture — to which she ended up saving him. (A vision illuminated by a golden sun, hovering over him. He’d never forget it.)

While he inspected the contents of the fridge, embarrassingly filled with only beer, eggs, milk and junk food, the door creaked open and revealed a dressed and less-wrecked Kiara. His gaze flicked up and down her frame, quick, and then averted it back to the fridge.

“You got no food, man.”

She chuckled. “I know. It’s not exactly The Wreck type of food…”

“You haven’t gone back?”

“Nope,” she replied, curt, and moved past him to shove a container of sausages aside to grab a bottle of almond milk. Even if she wasn’t with her parents, she still somehow kept up her ‘no dairy’ principles.

Also, Kiara was hella beautiful. He hadn’t let it register when she walked in, but it was true. Her soft-looking, shiny skin, sporting the prettiest smile in all of the OBX, and she was just hot. Especially when she propped herself on the kitchen counter, to which he settled beside her to not look at her legs.

“How many scholarships are there?” she asked. “Like, I’m obviously proud of him, but…”

“He told us last night,” JJ laughed. “You were that fucking high?”

She giggled, “Yeah! You were there, I was just on my ass.” And then, quieter, “And… I don’t know, I guess I’ve been kind of distracted.”

He perked up, surprised. Though the Pogues were family, openly talking about emotions when it wasn’t prompted by anything, remained rare. They were better at talking shit and smoking and napping on boats. Whatever, he took the bait.

“Why?”

She shook her head. “It’s stupid, JJ.”

“Kie, you’re talking to me,” he nudged her shoulder, “throw me a bone here. Is it Pope? You got the hots for our favourite nerd again?”

Taking a sip from the bottle, her brow quirked up as though that was the stupidest thing he ever said, and retorted with, “Why’re you always doing that?”

His hands raised instantly, defensive. “Doing what?”

“You’re always digging, like, when I was with Pope you got all weird.”

“I don’t dig.”

“You do.”

“I don’t. Kie, what’s up?” He kept it moving before she found the core of his problem, and bounced back to the original issue. “Before I start saying shit to Pope.”

She scoffed. “You're full of shit.”

“Oh, Kie,” he drawled with a smirk. “You can do better than that.”

Silence fell. He waited, fiddling with his fingers, and quietly hoped Pope wouldn't be too annoyed when they arrived late — then again, they were begrudgingly coined 'tortoise and tortoise' by the group anyway.

She placed the bottle back in the fridge and sent him a rueful smile, one he often saw her showing Sarah before they went aside and had a private talk. Their eyes locked and she finally spoke.

“Sometimes, I… I miss my parents. And it's like, I don't get how they don't just accept that I'm a Pogue, that I'm friends with you guys, you know? But I still miss them.” She looked down at her feet, crossing at the ankles like a little girl waiting to be reprimanded by the teacher. “I miss my dad's hugs.”

Instantly, his arm swung around her for a gentle side hug, a grateful smile pulling on her lips as she leaned into him. Both knew they should savour a moment like this, as hugging with a twitchy JJ and often irritated Kie happened once every blue moon.

Ignoring the guilty look in her eye — yeah, he didn't understand missing a paternal embrace, rather used to a blow in the stomach or a crude remark, but that didn't mean he lacked empathy — he resisted the urge to encourage her to reconnect with them. Knowing her, she'd just close up and glare at him for the rest of the day.

So no, he wasn't going to ask her. And no, she shouldn't feel guilty. P4L 'til the end, baby.

“Thanks, JJ,” she whispered.

He snickered and pushed her off. “You can't tell the guys I'm becoming soft, dude. Theyʼll give me so much shit for it.”

“They know you're soft,” she teased, “don't even try.”

“I'm tough,” he tried.

“Like Play-Doh.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled and motioned at the kitchen door. “Let's go, Carrera. Before John B and Sarah come back and act all married.”

Now that was fucking annoying. After John B and Sarah faked their death, they got married by a bandana strip and hadn't let that notion go after returning. Sure, there was that small blip when they were fighting the crazy religious chick, but that was old news.

John B made him swear he wouldn't tell a soul, but the guy waxed poetry about Sarah whenever they were drunk and alone. It was hilariously sad. Another man lost to a girl.

(“She wants a beach wedding,” JB sighed a couple nights ago. “Nice, right?”

“I– yeah, I really don't care about this, man.”)

JJ knew that when he got a girlfriend (Kiara unintentionally but also very intentionally crossed his mind), he'd act normal. No mushy shit. No poetry. Definitely no creepy Romeo and Juliet references thrown in as if that shouldn't freak the Pogues out. Their behaviour better not be infectious.

Expectedly, Pope's scowl reached them all the way from the car, Kie and JJ sharing a sheepish look before stepping out.

“Gee, guys,” the boy deadpanned, “thanks for making haste. Really appreciate it.”

JJ's wide grin hoped to salvage it. Slapping his friend on the shoulder, he pushed past him and yelled, “Kie was dead, dude!”

Pope grimaced. “Don't joke about that.”

He watched as Kie stopped beside Pope with an apologetic expression, telling him she overslept and was sorry and that he knew how JJ was — “Always joking.”

His chapped lips pursed, a familiar punch hitting his chest with him then pretending it didn't hurt. She always did this. Even if she claimed she didn't, she always took Pope's side. Relationship or not. JJ knew she didn't owe him her 'side', but it'd be a nice change of pace either way.

Whatever. This wasn't the JJ Pining For Kiara Show. Pope needed their help.

A state-wide scholarship competition gave Pope another shot at winning a huge chunk of money (no gold type of rich though) and getting his ass out of OBX, hopefully launching himself into some fancy college when he revealed to be of Denmark Tanny's lineage. Those hibrow assholes loved a good sob story.

All Pope had to do was score hella high on some test — easy — and impress the panel — not so easy — and he'd be the luckiest Pogue of all.

But that did mean Kie and him had to sit on his creaky bed with a freaky amount of flashcards while a stressed out Pope paced around his room. He was pretty sure the floor was eroding.

Also, he had no fucking clue what any of the flashcards meant. Did Pope's smarts really attracted Kie that much? Was it the brain? Brain over brawl? But where was the fun in that? JJ loved Pope to death, but the guy had to be fully medicated or high before his brain shut off and he acted carefree.

“Pope, do you even know what this all means?” Kie bemoaned, flipping the cards around.

“You got a dictionary somewhere?” added JJ, squinting at the word aberration. It sounded like some weird disease. He showed him the word.

Pope dismissed it. “It means: different from the norm.”

“Dude, why not write that then?”

“Because they want aberration.”

He didn't get it. “No one uses it though.”

“JJ, that's just the way it is,” Pope pressed.

“Guys, stop,” Kiara interrupted. “But honestly Pope, it's so, like, elitist. None of these questions are important to the world, or the well-being of the people.”

“Sorry, Kiara, but unfortunately not everyone cares that much,” he sighed. JJ could tell they were starting to annoy their friend, their tortoise bullshit bleeding through.

Her nose scrunched up, peeved. “Right. Because there's a planet B just waiting to be used by us. Duh.”

“Ooh,” JJ drawled, nudging her arm. “Are there donkeys shitting money?”

Kie laughed. “Yes. All beaches, clean air, no Kooks, and money-shitting donkeys.”

“Nah, I want it to be hella Kooky,” he joked, gesturing wildly. “I want a yacht and tell people someone else does my laundry, or something.”

“You don't even do your laundry anyway,” she bounced back with a roll of the eye. “I know you force John B.”

“He's already playing House with Sarah, might as well wash my underwear, too.”

Oh, man. He could do this all day. Talking shit with Kiara went as smooth as fishing for him. Each time he thought he one-upped her, she threw more on top and kept it going 'til neither knew what the point even was anymore. Sarah dubbed it as 'banter' which he believed was a rich way of saying 'talking smack.'

“I don't believe you even know how to do it,” she challenged.

JJ huffed and crossed his arms. “I can do it.”

A smirk bloomed on her lips as she kept jabbing. “It's kinda cute, how you need John B to be your mom.”

“I don't.”

“You literally said it five seconds ago.”

“Guys,” Pope groaned, followed by an exhausted sigh eerily similar to Heyward. “Can we get back to the flashcards?”

Kie and JJ were too far into their discussion though, jabbing at each other at rapid speed. Then she threw her cards at him and all bets were off. He yelled she should make a goal with her hands, to which he folded up a flashcard and shot it straight between her fingers.

And that was when Pope kicked them out. JJ presumed it was a victory they lasted as long as they did. Kie kept apologising over her shoulder, prompting Pope to ask Cleo for help instead.

For a beat, they were silent stepping out of his place and back into the car. JJ felt a stab of guilt for fucking up Pope's study time, but it was hard to dial his brain to school when his friends surrounded him. Just when he wanted to ask if she felt bad too, she went off about the climate — as usual.

“It's so dumb how there were no questions about the environment or human rights or, or anything like that! It's all science and lit, like, there's more to life than fucking chemistry formulas!”

“I skipped those cards. Didn't get them.”

“It's so fucked,” she hummed. “And I'm obviously glad that you drove to the Château to wake me up and all—”

“Yeah?”

“—but I really wish those questions would matter. We almost died, JJ!”

“No, shit,” he grumbled, quickly starting to lose his patience with the ranting girl. She didn't even realise what the fuck she was saying anymore — what she did to his heart, skipping like some elemtary school girl on the playground, when she slipped some nice words in.

“Died!” she pressed. “Why even care about stuff like that?”

“Fucks sake, Kie—”

“And I didn't want to say it, but did you see how many flashcards there were? How many trees were cut for that? It's like, hello, Quizlet exists!”

“Kie, shut up!” he yelled.

Her mouth fell slack, gobsmacked, gawking at him like his interruption was a slap in the face.

Gesturing wildly with one hand, he exclaimed, “You know, you can just go on and on and I hear you talking and it's like, yeah, we get it, Mother Earth needs to be saved, we're fucked, you don't gotta repeat it twenty-four seven.”

“What the hell, JJ!”

“You have an opinion about everything! A man gets tired!”

“A man?” She scoffed. “You're not even eighteen.”

“Point is you don't gotta act all preachy all the time.” He turned the corner, hands tightening around the steering wheel.

Kie scowled. “Where is this coming from? I'm not preachy, I'm educating you.”

Now that was just fucking with his head. Incredulous, he exclaimed, “You think I don't listen? Kie, I'm the only one that does. JB is on Planet Sarah all the damn time and Pope only did shit 'cause—"

"That!” she yelled, throwing her hands up with frustration. “That's what I mean! You're doing it again! You dig!”

“What?!”

“Every time you mention Pope and I, you dig. You needle!” Twisting in her seat, his gaze flickered to catch her disgruntled expression. “Why do you do that? It's so… sus.”

JJ laughed. “Sus?”

“You don't ask John B about Sarah.”

“'Cause they're fucking obvious.”

“Still,” she pressed. “Did I do something to piss you off? Is that it? Is it me constantly asking you to recycle and yet — shocker! — you never do?!”

“Fucking God,” he grumbled under his breath.

With frazzled thoughts and shaking hands, adrenaline coursed through him as he swerved to the side of the road and stopped the car. If he fought with Kie any longer to this degree of fuckery, they were gonna crash.

She frowned. “What're you doing?”

“You, Carrera, are driving me insane,” he deadpanned, matter-of-fact. Then he slammed the door open and stepped out, desperate to catch his breath.

In the back of his mind, he had an inkling as to why he was so keyed up. Kiara would call him a Neandethal, but fuck it, here was the truth: Kiara was hot as hell when she argued with him.

Following his lead, she got out, her sneakers stomping against the asphalt. The sun steeped low on the horizon, the light hitting the hood and reflecting onto her face; her curls shifting from dark brown to gold. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was so fucked. He almost missed the start of her spiel, too enthralled.

“I'm driving you insane? I'm always getting you out of trouble, because you never think things through! You never see the bigger picture!”

He rolled his eyes. “Bigger picture? The only thing I see, Kie, is you going on about nature. That easy.” And then, before he could stop himself, he spewed out, “And you don't have to do that.”

“What?”

“Getting me out of trouble,” he said, pursing his lips. “That's not your responsibility.”

“Right. Duh. Because after everything we've been through, I can't care about you,” she exclaimed, face twisting up in pure fury. She got in his space, shoving his shoulder, but when he didn't budge, it only seemed to anger her more.

JJ didn't know what was going on anymore. Why was she so mad? Even if she didn't want to admit it, he was telling the truth. Of course all the Pogues had each other's back, but Kiara doted over him more than was necessary. The constant checking of injuries, limiting his day drinking, all that. Like he was some child!

He leaned in and mumbled, “I can take care of myself.”

Kie smirked. “Then do your own laundry.”

It happened naturally. One second he stared at her furious eyes and thought about how much he loved arguing with her despite the bullshit, the next his fingers curled into her hair and pulled her in a fierce kiss.

At first, her hands laid frozen on his shoulders, surprised, but the moment he realised his impulsive decision was a mistake, they slid around his neck and kept him close.

JJ sighed in relief and deepened the kiss he'd been craving ever since they were fourteen and Kie went from gangly to statuesque. Her lips were warm and soft and her hands were soft and she hadn't let go and holy shit — he was kissing Kiara Carrera.

The kiss lessened when her mouth quirked into a smile, their grins pressing flush together, and JJ shivered from delight. Oh, man. He was gone.

“You drive me damn crazy, Kie,” he murmured, voice dropped to an undeniably soft tone.

She bit back her silly grin and whispered, “Good.”

Taking a deep breath, he tried focusing up, but all he could do was stare at her face. A shy hand grabbed hers.

He had to get it out of the way now, or else he'd kick himself later. “I'm… really into you. I'm– oh, fuck, uh–”

“Maybe we can talk about it not on the side of the road?” she suggested, amused.

JJ grinned, elated (What was the word he saw on the flashcards? Exalted!), and kissed her again, because he could.

On the ride back to the Château, he confessed to seeing her in a different light for years, while she couldn't really pinpoint a time or moment, that it just happened. It didn't matter, though he was in utter disbelief that he and Kie were having this conversation. No jokes, no BS, all seriousness. Tomorrow, he'd wake up and it wouldn't be some sick dream. Kie liked him back.

JJ was sure he'd doubt himself or overthink it in the future, but today, he'd bask in the certainty and the major ego boost.

“Okay, but did you ever legit like Pope then?”

A sheepish smile crawled up her cheeks as her gaze averted to the window. “I thought I did. But we have, like, no chemistry, so…” She shook her head. “I was confused.”

“That's okay,” he uttered. He couldn't give her shit for it. Even if he did torture himself with their short-lived relationship, he understood.

How would he react though? John B and Sarah wouldn't care, or Cleo, but Pope? He didn't want one of his brothers hating him. Being iced out by the guy fucking sucked, as it meant he was truly hurt and therefore meant JJ truly fucked up. He couldn't handle disappointing him.

Kie read his mind. “He'll be fine with it.”

“I dunno, man…”

“He will,” she repeated. “We're Pogues. We've all narrowly survived death. And besides…” She turned back to him with a secretive grin. “I think he has a thing for Cleo.”

Whoa. He did not see that coming. His brows shot up to his hairline, mentally kicking himself for being so focused on Kie that he didn't even notice the shift of interest between Pope and Cleo. They made sense, too. Know-it-all's, but well-meaning, and only speaking when needed.

If the idea didn't relief him of worries, he'd be concerned as to why they were all seamlessly coupled up like in some 90s sitcom Big John had on VHS.

“What a player,” he joked.

“Tell me about it.”

They arrived at the house, the Twinkie and Sarah's bike sprawled on the overgrown front lawn. JJ frowned. He had hoped to have some alone time with Kie, not to jump her bones and fulfill a regular dream of his, but to talk. To figure it out. He wanted to do this right. Because after everything, they deserved to have good things, to start on a high note — he deserved it.

Kie noticed it, too. Puckering her lips on contemplation, her gaze trailed from him to the rest of the property, ending on the trusty ol' hammock. She jabbed her thumb at it.

“Let's sit there.”

Normally, they laid on opposite ends on the hammock, if they even shared one to begin with. But now, she pressed herself right beside him and he felt like heaven dropped down on them in the best way possible. He suddenly understood what John B was lamenting about — the company, intimacy, the ease. Nerves rippled through his body like a summer storm, but he figured that was what it cost to lose one's mind over a girl.

He didn't know what to say, so Kiara spoke instead.

“I don't want us, the way we are around each other, to change, you know?” she said. “Like, I don't want you to think you have to act like some mellow ass boyfriend all of a sudden.”

He smirked. “Who said anything about boyfriend?”

“Bye.”

“Hey, wait,” he grinned, latching onto her arm before she pushed herself out. “C'mon, Kie.”

Her nose scrunched up. “I don't do this usually, okay?”

“You think I do?” he asked. His hand softly slid down to wrap around hers, to which she hooked their fingers together. Okay. Wow. It felt so damn nice that it propelled him to say, “I wanna be your boyfriend, Kie.”

The girl smiled and then surprised him by leaning in herself, pressing a gentle kiss on his chapped lips. It was overwhelming having her instigate it, his gut twisting up in excitement like when he was about to backflip from a boat, or cliff dive, or something similar like that.

He let go of her hand to cup her cheeks, only to whisper, “That's a yes, yeah? Gotta get a yes.”

“Yes, JJ,” she uttered back. “Here's to not fucking this up.”

“Cheers, baby.”

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[kpop-fanatic-lover16]

Go ~ Wong Hendery ~

Words: 2375

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings: violence, achohol, bullying

Sweaty bodies and loud shouts of cheering drowned your ears as you stood on your tippy toes, trying to see the football field and the activity playing on it. Within several minutes, you finally got a glimpse of the star football player crossing the touchdown line, winning the last game of the season in a perfect winning streak. The crowd erupted into cheers again, proud of the team for doing their best. This however, was not your top priority, as you were practically bolting down the steps of the bleachers to get to the field. Soft grass hit your sandals when you jumped onto the plane field; your boyfriend turned away from the huddle of football players and spotted you running toward him. It didn't take him more than a few seconds to realize what your intentions were making him pull off his helmet and open his arms. He accepted the bone crushing hug, lifting you into the air with the happiest feeling he's had all season.

"You did it!" you cried, pulling back to look at him. His face was sweating from the hard playing he had been doing and his breath was ragged. His arms dropped you gently onto the ground and his lips came down and kissed yours in a sort of grateful way. It didn't last very long, because some of his friends broke it off. The action made you pull back from the wild boys; you didn't mind the excitement because they had worked for it all year. Someone to the left of the field caught your attention, as they were slumped down on the bench, looking emotionally torn. Discarding the wild group, you made your way over to the person and plopped down right next to them.

"I know what's bothering you." you said, looking at his dropped head.

Yang Yang sighed deeply and straightened up to look at you. "Then tell me what you do."

"I already have," you replied, referring to the many times this conversation as come up. "Ask her out. She won't hate you, I know."

"Y/n, I'm too scared."

"You know," you began, thinking back to when your boyfriend asked you out. "When I was asked out, do you know what he said?"

"What?"

"He told me he was absolutely terrified to ask me. But he also said he was even more terrified about waiting too long and losing me forever."

"Wong Hendery has the bravery to follow his guts, I don't," Yang Yang sighed, linking his fingers through the face grate on his helmet. There was zero hope in trying to convince him to relieve his stress. At that moment, Hendery came running over with a huge smile on his face.

"Hey," he murmured, leaning down and kissing your lips, before he knocked Yang Yang in his shoulder. "There's a celebration party being held at Taylor's house, let's go!"

Yang Yang got up from his seat and jogged over to the locker rooms to shower and change, disappearing around the stone hall by the bleachers. Worry rippled through your chest. You wanted Yang Yang to just go and ask the girl he liked so much out on a date. So what if it didn't go as well as he would like? He'll never know until he takes the leap. Hendery squeezed your hand, telling you that he'd be back soon and then ran after Yang Yang to go shower as well.

A little while later, you were starting to feel bad. Your stomach had decided to play cramps on you and your head was spinning, but your condition wasn't bad enough to need the comfort of home. Currently, you were standing outside of the boy's locker room, waiting for Hendery to finish up. When he did, he was wearing a pair of ripped blue skinny jeans, a black men's silk blouse with gold designs and a leather jacket with black cowboy ankle boots. His hair was damp, his bangs, that parted down the middle, fell into his eyes as he looked to the right down the hallway and then left trying to find you. His eyes landed on you and another sun catching smile lit up his face as he made his way over to you, engulfing you in a hug.

"Are you ready? he asked, kissing your forehead sweetly. A nod was the confirmation before he pulled his duffle bag of gear back onto his shoulder and took your hand. The walk to his car didn't take very long and before you knew it, the car was driving on the road to Taylor's house for the after party.

Music was blaring from inside and out through the windows and there was already drunk kids on the front lawn. At this point, even Hendery was having doubts about attending this party; something just wasn't settling with him and it was almost like it was subtly giving him a warning. Unfortunately, you both ignored this warning and proceeded to walk into the party, even when that unsettled feeling was still boiling in the pits of your stomachs. It was loud inside and difficult to see where everything was. Hendery gently grabbed your waist and guided you over to the living room area where half of the football team was stationed. They all cheered when they caught sight of Hendery.

"The star player has arrived!" one of them smiled, proud to have Hendery as a teammate. Hendery nodded his head in a 'cool' way at the kind comment. One of his best friends, Lucas, was also sitting on the couch laughing and enjoying the celebration.

Hendery turned you slightly, speaking into your ear, "Sit with Lucas while I go get drinks. I don't want to loose sight of you."

The trust worthy bond you had with Lucas gave you no hesitation to go sit next to him. Once Hendery was satisfied that you were safe, he wiggled his way through the crowd to find drinks. With a happy smile, Lucas opened his right arm and offered one of his famous hugs. It made you feel slightly better, but not by much. This is when Lucas caught on that you seemed sick.

"Hey," Lucas's tone turned serious. It caught you off guard when he set his drink down on the coffee table in front of you and put the back of his hand to your forehead. "You are warmer than normal. Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah," you replied, telling him the truth. You didn't feel good, but you weren't in a horrible condition. If the feeling got worse, you would take action. Lucas decided to keep an eye on you, but went back to enjoying himself. Hendery came back with two bottles of water and a random cookie. Of course, he couldn't control himself. You laughed mentally.

"Hendery!" one of the football players called over the music. It caught Hendery's attention right as he finished giving you the water. He let you curl into his side and rest your head on his shoulder. "We should go out on the town after this."

"Hey, you know I don't do that anymore," Hendery rejected, wrapping his arm around your frame and holding you close like he didn't want to ever let you go.

A little back story on this topic. At the beginning of your Senior year in high school, you met Hendery and his friends. The interesting thing about this story is that Hendery was actually abusive and a delinquent within the school. When Yang Yang met you in the library one day, he wanted you to have lunch with him and his friends. It was surprising to say the least that Yang Yang was friends with the most feared kid in school.

But things quickly started to change the more you hung out with Yang Yang and his friends. Hendery, hated you with a passion for starting to change his friends perspectives on life. It raged him so much that one day he cornered you planning to beat you up, but something stopped him. Something deep inside of him struck at his heart and all of the things you had taught and told him and his friends about kindness and the world, flooded his brain. He let you go, having no intention of hurting anyone ever again. This is why he was so afraid to ask you out after months of him being a changed person. He thought you hated his guts and would never want someone like him. But there was that voice again telling him that if he didn't make a move soon, he would loose you...forever. Since then Hendery has tried to be a better person for you. He stopped drinking and smoking, as well as putting a stop to violence.

"Oh come on, just one night." the guy started pushing the situation a bit harder, making you worried. "Why is it that once you get a girlfriend you change? Those of us who have girlfriends didn't change."

"Those girlfriends didn't change your life for the better good like mine did." Hendery defended you without missing a beat. That's just how he was now.

"Well let's hope Yang Yang doesn't get a girlfriend," the guy joked, slapping a hand on the youngest. Yang Yang's mood went down another forty percent after that comment, making you angry.

"Packer that's enough." Ten warned, kicking Packer's knee. This made a light go off in Packer's head.

"No," he began coming to terms with what he was thinking. "Let's see if the old Hendery is still in there."

Your eyes widened at the sentence. No, this could not be happening. Packer stared at Hendery for a moment and then decided to strike when he saw Hendery clench his jaw. "Your girlfriend –no, side chick– is a bit of a drag. I'm sure Mommy and Daddy would let her stay home when you feel burdened."

"Enough." Lucas warned, catching on to the conversation very quickly.

"Hey," Packer looked at Lucas with his eyebrows raised. "Hendery is a big boy. He can fight his own battles."

"You better not," Ten threatened, already knowing that Hendery would immediately go back to his ways to defend you. There was no doubt in his mind that Hendery would kill someone if it meant protecting you.

"I mean look at her she just leans into you all the time. She actually looks pretty sick right now. Sickeningly, clingy."

Hendery tore out of his seat and jumped over the coffee table before attacking his oppressor. Horror struck your body as you watched Hendery beat the living soul out of his fellow teammate.

"What do you know about her?!" Hendery bellowed, grabbing the guy's collar and pulling him close. "She bends over backwards for everyone! But one thing is for certain, I wouldn't let her do anything for you because you don't deserve it."

At Hendery's words, you began to cry. Everything you had done to change Hendery had been washed away by his anger. Ten and Lucas immediately knew why you were crying and proceeded to remove you from the party. Now you were feeling worse and just wanted to go home. Sobs rocked your body as you held onto Lucas who held on tight to you and right then and there, you wished you were at home.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of your bathroom sink running. You glanced behind you to see Hendery washing his face and slowly recovering from his hangover. When he finished up, he came back into the room and startled at your awake figure.

"Good morning." he mumbled, climbing on top of the bed and kissing your forehead gently. Last nights events came flooding into your mind and you immediately sat up and grabbed Hendery's knuckles.

"I didn't hurt him or myself, my love." Hendery promised, watching you examine his hands and face.

"Hendery you scared me!" you scowled, dropping his hands and rubbing your face with a huff.

"I know I did and I apologize for that. But I wasn't about to let him talk trash about you." Hendery defended, squeezing your shoulder. "I love you too much."

"I love you more."

"Yang Yang asked out your best friend last night." Hendery spoke on a lighter note. Joy filled your sleepy body at the news. Finally, Yang Yang had gotten the courage.

"What did she say?" you gasped.

"She said yes." Hendery smiled. "They're having a coffee date this morning to get to know each other better. Yang Yang texted me before he went to go pick her up."

"I'm so happy for him." you sighed, falling into Hendery's chest and closing your eyes.

It was silent for a while, just the two of you. Hendery apparently had come in through your window last night and slept on the couch just to protect you from any harm and to also avoid the last night arguing at his own home. No matter what you had gone through to end up with Hendery, moments like these were worth that long fight. Even nights like last night weren't enough to tear the two of you apart. Hendery told you the story after the party when Yang Yang had said he was tired of people making fun of him for not having a girlfriend. His main motive for dating was not however the pressure and poking from his friends, but a true liking towards that beautiful girl in his history class.

"Hendery." you whispered.

"Yeah?" he whispered back.

"I love you."

"I love you more."

"But...we have to get to that Scollarship Brunch you agreed to go to."

"Oh crap!" Hendery yelped, jumping up from your bed and rushing over to the couch to snatch his shoes and get them on his feet. "Do I need to wear a suit?"

"Just wear something nice." you urged him to hurry since he still needed to shower and get dressed back at his house which was fifteen minutes away.

"Do I come pick you up?"

"Hendery, GO!" you laughed, accepting the air kiss he sent you before ducking outside of the window and climbing off the roof to his car.

"Goofball." you whispered under your breath.

[pezberry-week]

So I have to admit this is a little bit of a cheat for my Pezberry Secret Santa fill for @angel-hummel - as in, it’s both my present fill and a prompt fill for my 25 Days of Christmas (AO3) fic collection. As it is, I have plans to revisit this someday, but I hope you enjoy this self contained bit anyway. Happy Pezberry Secret Santa, angel-hummel!

*

Day 21: Character A is pretending to be their friend’s lover for the sake of the friend’s family. Character B is said friend’s sibling.

*

“Santí! Come down and meet your brother’s girlfriend!”

“That’s really not necessary.” Rachel smiled at Maribel, hoping the woman wouldn’t see her unease. “If she’s busy we can always meet later.”

“Nonsense. It’s time for her to come down anyway.” Frowning, Maribel sighed, saying under her breath, “That girl,” before taking a step on the staircase, rapping harshly against the wall. “Santí! Get off the computer and come meet Rachel! Your brother’s girlfriend!” She turned her head, smiling at Rachel, “I’m so sorry. She’s always playing around with those music programs of hers.”

“Puck did tell me that she worked for Big Machine Records…” Rachel tried to placate, starting to feel even more awkward than she originally had when she’d first walked into her friend’s father and step-mother’s house as his fake girlfriend. “Perhaps she’s busy mixing and can’t hear you?”

Maribel huffed. “That would be just like her. Here,” she turned, descending the step she’d taken, “Can you be a dear and fetch her for me? I have to check on dinner, and this way you can introduce yourself.”

Blinking, feeling a little blindsided, Rachel barely had the chance to agree before Maribel was hustling her up the stairs, calling out a thank you as she turned to make her way back to the kitchen. Figuring there was no point in pausing in the middle of the stairs, she finished her walk up, pausing and wavering at the top before sighing and squaring her shoulders, turning to the hall of doors. About to start worrying about which she should knock on, she relaxed when she could see a door proudly proclaiming, “Santana’s Room Keep Out!!!” from where she stood. That was lucky.

The door opened after Rachel’s second smattering of hesitant knocks, Rachel still pulling her hand away. “I told you, Mamí, I have a deadline I have to – – you’re not mom.”

Beautiful brown eyes blinked down at her. Framed by thick, curly bangs and above a thin nose and plush, red lips, Santana Lopez practically took Rachel’s breath away. When the striking eyes narrowed, Rachel realized she was still staring, and she took a step back, shoving her hands behind her back so they wouldn’t fidget in front of her. “I’m Rachel. R-Rachel Berry,” she stuttered, “Puck’s… Girlfriend.”

“You don’t sound so confident about that,” Santana smirked at her, leaning against the side of her doorway.

Red slashed across Rachel’s face. “Oh, no, I am. I, er, just…” Trailing off, she remembered herself, standing forward to offer her hand, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Untangling her arm from the doorway, Santana accepted the handshake, and suddenly long, warm fingers were wrapped around Rachel’s. “Rachel, eh? Puck’s bandmate?” She made vocal bunny ears, “The tiny fellow Jew hottie?”

More red bloomed on Rachel’s cheeks. “Ah, yes, that’s me. Apparently…” She’d have to have a talk with Puck about how he described her in the future. Not wanting to relinquish the handshake, but knowing she had to before it became weird, Rachel pulled her hand back, Santana’s grip briefly tightening before releasing her, sliding her hand into the pocket of her skinny jeans. Following the motion, Rachel wondered why she’d thought it be a good idea to wear one of her ‘best impression wholesome girl’ dresses when she could have worn something like what Santana was and have given her an extremely different impression than what she was probably giving her.

“Seems like a pretty accurate description,” Santana smiled, bringing Rachel’s attention back up to her face.

Rachel laughed self-consciously. “You should hear how he describes you.”

Fine eyebrows rose. “Oh, you’ve gotta tell me.”

“Well, you know…” Taking a second to come up with a response, Rachel affected her voice lower, “’Santana Puckerman? My totally pain in the ass step-sister.’”

Rolling her eyes, Santana shook her head, a smirk still curling her lips up. “He just never stops complaining about when I almost castrated him with a s’mores fork, doesn’t he?”

“What?”

“We were eight.”

“Wait, his pain is literal?”

“I’m sure you’ve seen his ass. Is the scar still visible?”

“That’s… Actually not something I would know.” Thank god.

“Really?” Santana’s eyebrows shot up again. “Normally bro’s faster with getting his chicks naked. Boy does not know how to do the romance.”

“And you do?” Rachel immediately lobbed back, both out of curiosity and automatic defense of her friend.

Santana smirked. “I’m sure you’ve heard the tales about me. What do you think?”

Opening her mouth, Rachel was saved from making some obvious and pathetic attempt at not being flirty by the loud racket of Puck loping up the stairs. “Babe,” he called out carelessly, swinging himself around the banister, “Stop flirting with my sis and come make me look good. Mom’s wantin’ us all down there.”

“Puck,” Rachel snapped, not bothering to hide her mortification at his words as Puck wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side.

Puck smirked at Santana. “Ain’t she hot?”

Again, “Puck,” and Rachel elbowed his side, using his indrawn breath and flinch to disentangle herself, stepping aside and straightening her dress.

Santana surveyed them curiously, a lazy tilt of her lips showing her amusement. “At least this one seems to know how to handle you,” she teased, shaking her head; disappearing into her bedroom – Rachel getting a glimpse of black and white and a sumptuous looking bed – she called over her shoulder, “Give me a sec to save my work and I’ll be there.”

Once Rachel was secure she was far enough away to be able to hold a furiously whispered conversation, she rounded onto Puck. “You,” she jutted her finger at him, “Didn’t tell me how… Attractive she was!”

That elicited a loud, full-belly laugh, Puck even going so far to pretend to wipe away tears. “You’ve seen pics, haven’t ya?”

“Those were crazy, unflattering ones, and you know it!”

Still laughing, Puck shook his head, urging Rachel down and in front of him, meeting his mother in the kitchen. “Well now you know, eh?”

Giving Maribel a calm, benign smile, Rachel elbowed him again the second she was turned away.

*

A couple of hours later, gathered at the family table with a mug of spiked eggnog and reams of awkward, fake relationship comments behind her, Rachel couldn’t look away from Santana.

“You’re being obvious,” Puck teased, breath hot against her ear, lips curled up.

“Not caring,” Rachel lilted back, raising her mug in a toast when prompted, her tongue lapping up foam when it clung to her upper lip.

A strong finger poked her side. “Have you forgotten you’re my girlfriend?” he prodded.

Rachel grit her teeth. Turning her head, angling back to glare at him, she humphed. “Shhh. You, grateful, me going to ogle if I want to.”

“You do so criminally rarely ogle,” Puck hummed agreeably. “Should I let slip that you’re an out and proud bisexual?”

Rachel didn’t feel bad about the strength of the kick behind the side of her foot impacting her bandmate’s shin. She took a sip of her eggnog to cover the proud smirk at his fumbling of covering up the reason for his squeak. As her eyes traveled along aimlessly, she had to stop and blink, a blush covering her cheeks at the dark eyes smirking at her. Well. At least it was only Santana who had seemed to catch on. Rachel softly cleared her throat. “Dear, you alright?”

“No thanks to you,” Puck hissed, but gathered himself. “Hey, sis,” he abruptly burst out, motioning at Santana when both Abby and Santana looked at him, “Now that Show and Tell’s done with me n’ Rache, how ‘bout you? Got any hot tail in LA?”

“Noah,” Maribel sighed from her spot down the table, lowering her mug to the table, “Must you speak like that? I swear, I don’t know where you and Santana got it.”

Santana and Puck exchanged grins. “Lima Heights Adjacent,” they chorused.

Maribel closed her eyes. “We never lived in Lima Height Adjacent.”

“Tell that to the jocks and nerds who were terrified of Santana in high school,” Puck laughed. He affected his voice, lifting his hands, “’I’m ‘bout to go Lima Heights Adjacent on your ass if yous don’ts. Step. Offs. Afores I ends you.’”

Santana grinned. “You forgot the razors ‘all up in my weave’.”

Abby tched, rolling her eyes. “I went to William McKinley after you guys and heard nothing. So I think you’re lying. Or exaggerating.”

Grinning, her teeth biting lightly on the rim of her mug, Rachel watched the play-by-play. She jerked, cheeks glowing bright as Santana suddenly winked at her.

“Puh-lease. Puck was the one exaggerating,” Santana grinned, tossing her hair and adopting a teasing tone, “Who was the one who was a ‘sex shark’ who died if they stopped having sex?”

“Ay Dios mio and the Mother Mary!” Maribel groaned, her palm slapping on the table, stopping Puck’s retort, “Who raised you children? Have you no tact? Do I need to hear this, hmm?”

Santana snorted. “Ask your son, Mamí. He’s the one who used that excuse.”

“Oh, and you didn’t use tricks to get the girls into your bed,” Puck snapped, looking actually insulted, his chin and chest jutting forward.

Santana clicked her tongue at him. “Unlike you, I didn’t need to.”

“Oh god,” Abby muttered, hands covering her face, “Stop! Forget about need, I don’t want to hear this!”

“I agree,” Rachel chimed in, steel filling her voice as she pressed her hand into Puck’s thigh, stopping him. “Noah.” She didn’t actually really care, having made peace with how much of a horn dog her friend was years ago, but she figured his girlfriend probably wouldn’t be amused at all.

Puck frowned at her. “Why do you care? You’ve always listened to me talk about girls…” he asked, Rachel’s eyes widening as she figured out, before him, what he was saying.

Rachel didn’t dare look at the stares she could feel until, taking a deep breath and pasting a large smile on her face, she looked up with a, “We… Have a very open relationship.”

The first person she looked at was Santana, who quirked her eyebrows at her. “How open?”

“Santana Maria Puckerman, please stop antagonizing your brother’s girlfriend.”

“Who’s antagonizing?” Santana asked ‘innocently’, hands raised, “It’s a legitimate question.”

Though obviously a little uncomfortable with the confession, Maribel helped (made) the conversation pivot, and with only a few moments of grumbling and heated glares at his sister, Puck settled down. Doing so as well, though expressing it with a dark smirk instead, Santana hummed, turned to Rachel, winked again, and only turned away in satisfaction as Rachel’s ears heated up.

Rachel had a week more of this. Of Santana.

Rachel’s teeth bit lightly into the rim of her eggnog mug.

Oh god.

[pessimisticlatte]

Glass Roses - Chapter 3

Miraculous Ladybug Fanfic part 3! ~ MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS

~Marichat ~ Adrienette ~ Lukagami ~ Marigami (platonic/one-sided crush) ~ Alynino/DJWifi

-Eventual Reveal-

~~~~~~~~~~

Marinette and Adrien walked side by side into the foyer of the cinema. Mari’s cheeks were still flushed with red, making the pale smattering of freckles across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose glow like constellations in twilight. Adrien kept sneaking looks at her as they walked, she was so animated as she spoke to Alya, her hands fluttering as she explained something Adrien had long since forgotten about. Her hair was pulled back into her signature pigtails, the midnight strands had grown considerably longer since he’d last seen her in the daylight. Even haloed by the moon, Adrien hadn’t been able to see all the changes both subtle and not that had become so evident in Marinette. He’d scarcely been able to talk to her before; her shyness and the never ending hive of people buzzing around him meant that she became overwhelmed quickly and fled. But she was so much more confident than she used to be, her smile was so much brighter and more open, making her look so much more angelic than she already was.

“What do you think, Adrien?” Mari’s voice cut through this musings. Shaking his head slightly, he met her beautiful blue eyes with an air of confusion. Her smile faltered slightly, the corners of her lips unable to decide if they wanted to keep her face positive or slide into a negative mask. 

“He wasn’t listening, Mari, don’t take it to heart,” Nino laughed, coming around Adrien’s side and placing his hand on his best friend’s shoulder. “How about you girls go pick a movie and we’ll hang here and wait for you?”

“I thought you guys had already chosen a movie?” Marinette’s forehead wrinkled beneath her wispy fringe and the corners of her moth dimpled with confusion.

“We hadn’t, it was just an excuse not to check online for what was showing,” Alya rubbed the back of her neck with an uncomfortable chuckle before grabbing Mari’s arm and dragging her toward the ticket counter.

Nino rounded on Adrien, checking that the girls were out of earshot swiftly before continuing. “You got distracted by her, didn’t you?” Nino’s voice took on a sing-song tone as he teased Adrien. Adrien felt a blush rising in his own cheeks, rolling up his neck in strange waves, making the hair at the base of his neck tingle.

“Uh...is it that obvious?” Adrien hung his head and looked at his feet.

“Well, to me, your bestest bud in the whole world, it’s so obvious, man. You’re like a preschooler with a crush,” Adrien raised his head and held in a laugh at the look on Nino’s face. The other boy had pushed his bottom lip out to an extreme level and was making an expression with his eyes that Adrien could only describe as ‘gooey puppy dog eyes’. “But she definitely didn’t notice, man, so I think that you’re all good in keeping this lil’ crush a secret.”

“You don’t think she noticed?” Looking over at the girls at the ticket counter, Adrien’s heart skipped a beat. The fluorescent lights of the foyer were catching the dark highlights of Mari’s hair as she tipped her head back to look at the digital screen showing all the movies on offer today, he could almost hear her voice as she turned to Alya and suggested something. The redhaired girl bumped Mari with her shoulder and whispered something to her, sending her into a fit of giggles.

“Marinette exists in her own world, man, sometimes she...misses things, but if you keep up making lovey eyes at her, she might catch on before you have a chance to tell her,” Nino was looking at Alya as he shrugged toward Adrien. Alya had wrapped her arm around Marinette’s shoulders and was pointing to something on the screen, both appeared to finally agree on something as they walked up to the clerk. “Mari didn’t realise that Alya and I were dating until Al and I had been together for six months, man. She’s a smart girl, a wonderful girl, but perceptive she tends not to be.”

Adrien nodded his agreement and hoped that she wouldn’t decide that today was the day to be more perceptive. The girls began walking back over to them, tickets held in one of Marinette’s hands as the other one swung, clutching Alya’s, between her and the other girl. 

“Did ya pick a good movie? No chick flicks, I hope,” Nino put his arm out and Alya walked into it, letting him wrap her into a one armed hug as she slipped her arm around his waist. 

“You love chick flicks, Nino, don’t lie,” Alya bumped her shoulder up into Nino’s armpit as he let out a loud laugh. “You made me watch the notebook! You turned off Doctor Strange because it was ‘too scary’ and put the notebook on!”

“Alright, alright, I’m not gonna lie to ya, Al,” Alya smiled like a cat who had just gotten the cream it had been begging for and began to lead the group toward the cinema. Walking side by side, Mari and Adrien followed them, both of them felt a heat rising in their necks as they avoided eye contact with each other and anyone else. Their hands were so close to each other that Adrien had to stop himself from grabbing her hand and holding it. His pinky finger rubbed hers for a split second and sent a jolt up his arm. Unaware, Marinette felt the same jolt and immediately crossed her arms across her stomach; she was still unsure if Adrien knew of her crush on him so she chocked the small touch up to coincidence. 

“So...how have your holidays been, Mari?” Adrien slid his hands into his pockets, he kept the disappointment from his voice about Mari crossing her arms as he spoke.

“Um...they were good…,” She shot him a small, slightly embarrassed smile. “I hung out with Alya and Nino a lot...how was New York. I mean, I know how New York was, we spoke about it a lot, but...was it good spending time with your dad?”

“It was great spending time with him. Since Maman died he hasn’t been the same and had really thrown himself into his work. I know it wasn’t my fault but Nathalie told me about grief and how different people cope with it so I guessed that Dad has just been healing differently. Everyone has always said that I look a lot like Maman, so I can understand why he would have had trouble spending a lot of time with me,” Marinette didn’t exactly understand. She hadn’t lost anyone like Adrien had lost his mother and she’d always been lucky to have parents who would drop everything to spend time with her; she tried to empathise as she heard the slight quaver in his voice. The thought of grief and healing brought her back to the thoughts she’d had the other night about Hawkmoth. 

Adrien couldn’t possibly be Hawkmoth but it made Marinette wonder if the supervillain could possibly be someone like Adrien who had lost one parent after losing another and just wanted that time back. The way Adrien spoke about grief and how his father dealt with it didn’t seem like something a power-hungry villain would do, even in their civilian form. 

“Y’know, I’ve missed spending time with him and I’m thankful for the time I’ve gotten but I wish we hadn’t lost her,” Even as Adrien whispered those solemn words, Marinette knew, deep in her heart, that the neglected boy walking beside her wouldn’t have it in him to tear the rest of the world apart for a parent he barely knew. “He’s my dad and I’ll always love him, when he’s reached the end of his grieving process I just know that he’ll make up for the lost time.”

“I’m sure he will, Adrien, even if he doesn’t show it often I know that he loves you, and that he loves you enough for both himself and your mother,” Mari placed a gentle hand on Adrien’s bicep with a sincere smile. “And, even if she isn’t your mother, Nathalie loves you too. She’d be so proud of you, Adrien, just like your dad and Nathalie already are.

Adrien and Marinette walked down the aisle into their seats behind Nino and Alya. Nino was on Alya’s right and Marinette was on Alya’s left, leaving Adrien to sit on Marinette’s left. Nino opened up his backpack and pulled out a couple of packets of lollies and chocolate as well as some cups and a bottle of iced tea.

“Why iced tea, Nino? You’ve been drinking soft drink religiously for the last few weeks,” Marinette accepted the cup Nino had poured and handed to her before she carefully passed it onto Adrien, accepting the next cup passed by Alya. 

“I told him that he could die of a heart attack if he kept drinking so much so I’ve put him on to tea and this is one of the few iced tea brands he doesn’t argue with me about drinking,” Nino took a sip of the iced tea with a grin as Alya rolled her eyes with a silly smile. 

“I’ve been telling him to cut down on his caffeine intake for months and he only listens when you say it?” Adrien feigned a look of betrayal, his hand pressed over his heart with his mouth dramatically agape. Marinette let a laugh out through her nose, trying not to send the iced tea she’d just taken a sip of spurting out her nostrils. Alya patted Mari gently on the back as the dark haired girl began to choke slightly.

“You know I love you, boo,” Nino reached his hand out toward Adrien behind the two girls backs, Adrien took the other boy’s hand, mimicking the face of a newly engaged woman from a Victorian era movie. “But you’re not a gorgeous redhead with a rockin’ bod and my balls in a nutcracker.”

Alya’s laugh echoed through the slowly filling cinema as Mari began to choke, yet again. A couple of the new people walking into the cinema shot them some very strange looks; a hysterically laughing girl, a choking girl, and two boys holding hands over said girls didn’t look like something they’d expect to see in the audience of a movie. The movie itself was a different story.

Adrien let go of Nino’s hand and patted Mari on the back as the lights in the cinema began to dim and the curtains framing the screen slid away to reveal a larger screen than they had entered to. Once all the lights were off, Mari’s coughing subdued and her breathing returned to normal, the film began to roll on the projector screen before them as classical music filtered through the speakers surrounding them. Marinette had placed her arm on the armrest between her and Adrien, her long fingers tapped along to the melody of the music and her head swayed slightly from side to side with the harmony. He was so distracted by seeing her careful fingers matching the piano chords that the rest of the world slipped away and the room was reduced to him, Marinette and her delicate fingers flowing like water between them.

She’d sat at his piano with him once and listened to him play. It had felt so different then. Adrien hadn’t been aware of the feelings he had for her and having Marinette beside him as he poured the music from his wounded heart into the piano hadn’t felt so intimate. She had been his best friend, a calming and steady presence in his life, and nothing more. But here, in this cinema, surrounded by people, they could have been in the middle of a stampede and it would have felt achingly intimate. Adrien wanted to take her hand and teach her the chords of his favourite song on the piano, he wanted to listen to the music they could make together and know that it wasn’t coming from a wounded heart anymore but a steadily healing one, a heart finally ready to look beyond Ladybug and her dismissal of him as well as the parental influence he’d lacked for so long from his only living biological parent. 

Adrien’s eyes flicked upward and caught the profile of Mari’s face. The screen was illuminated in her eyes, Adrien could almost see the cogs turning in her mind as she processed the story and began to tell one of her own in the beautiful tapestry she called her head. Absentmindedly, Marinette reached up to a loose lock of her hair and tucked it gently behind her ear, the dark strands seemed to absorb the flickering from the screen. For the first time in his life, Adrien found himself inspecting her earrings. They looked strangely familiar but Adrien couldn’t put his finger on why; if his mind hadn’t been so full of thoughts surrounding the slight wave of her hair, the soft plumpness of her lips, the thick curls of her lashes, then maybe he would have been able to dredge up the memory of where he’d seen them before.

~~~~~~~

Mari felt his eyes on the side of her face before he turned away and focused on the movie playing above them. She felt so much more comfortable beside him now than she had before summer had come; she couldn’t place why or what had changed but she was grateful not to be a dorky, blubbering mess in front of him anymore. In the back of her mind, Marinette tucked away the memory of this moment; how it felt to sit beside him in almost complete silence and just exist in his presence. She hoped that she could relive this moment with him again one day, just the two of them though, maybe with their hands clutched together on the armrest between them.

She held in a secret, joyful smile but knew that the slight movements in her lips meant that she hadn’t done as good a job as she thought.

~~~~~~~

After the movie, the friends went and got ice cream together and walked down the Champs-Elysees until they reached a nice, sunny spot and sat on a bench looking out over the park and the Fontaine de la Grille du Coq. The days were long but the time they’d spent together felt short, Adrien had his chauffeur drop Marinette home first, then Alya, leaving Adrien and Nino in the back seat of the limousine together.

“So, did ya have fun?” Nino elbowed Adrien in the ribs.

“Yeah, I missed you guys while I was away,” Adrien pressed a button that closed the partition between the back seat and the driver in the front.

“Missed Mari, you mean?” Adrien glared at the smirk on Nino’s face in the shiny, black partition now close before them.

“Shut up,”

“You know it’s true!” The car started to pull to a stop and the boys heard the driver’s door open, then close. “Well, looks like that’s my cue. Adios, amigo.”

“Adios,” Adrien and Nino bumped fists as the door on Nino’s side opened and the Gorilla waited patiently for him to get out. Nino slid along the seat and climbed out of the car, saluting Adrien a joking goodbye, the Gorilla closed the door and left Adrien, all alone, in the back of the car. Resting his head on the back of the seat as the car slowly began to roll back into motion and race toward the Agreste mansion.

The design of Marinette’s earrings was still puzzling him, out of the three piercings she had in her ear, the one furthest down on her lobe had caught his eye. The tiny ladybug shaped stud in the upper cartilage of her ear and the small golden hoop next to the studs that had confused him were new and foreign. He hadn’t paid attention much to the piercings punched through her ear but he had paid enough to know that she only had one in each ear when he’d seen her last. He hadn’t noticed them when he’d visited her as Chat either, but her hair had been out then. 

Picturing the earrings in his mind’s eye, Adrien didn’t gloss over a single detail as he assessed what he remembered. They seemed so unassuming, a glinting black-brown with tiny, single coloured, matte circles on them, almost like the little black dots on the body of the ladybug stud in her cartilage. Adrien was still exhausted from the trip home from New York but he tucked the analysis he’d gone through into a pocket of his mind to come back to later.

~~~~~~~~

Mari was leaning on the railing of her balcony, her hair loose around her shoulders again. The long, midnight strands tickled her bare shoulders with feathery softness; she’d let it grow longer than she wanted to over the holidays, she’d been meaning to cut it for days now but just hadn’t gotten around to it. She’d swapped her pyjama shirt from last night out for a loose, spaghetti strap singlet, Alya had bought them both a matching set of pyjamas years ago and while Ayla had outgrown them in height and breadth, Marinette had not and she still loved the pyjama set as much as the day Alya had presented them to her. The breeze caused the legs of her three-quarter length pants to rub against her legs and send goosebumps prickling across her skin. Her feet were bare on the concrete of the balcony, but she wasn’t cold. Spending time with Adrien and Alya and Nino today had left her heart warmer than black plastic in the height of summer, the heat of the day that was still branded into the floor helped keep her warm too.

Footsteps thudded behind her but she didn’t turn to see who had joined her on the balcony. Her mother or father would’ve announced their presence as they came through the trapdoor up to her room and she knew that their footfalls wouldn’t have been as heavy as those of the visitor she was expecting tonight.

“You are just as beautiful as the sun setting before you, purr-incess,” Chat Noir leaned beside Marinette on the railing, the wind ruffled his golden hair and separated the delicately curling strands as they blew across his forehead. Mari rolled her eyes.

“It’s good to see you too, Kitty cat,” Mari nudged his elbow with hers, though she held both her elbows in her hands. Almost effectively crossing them but not as severe as fully crossing them might have been taken. “Did you have a good day, Chaton?”

The way Marinette said ‘Chaton’ suddenly sent a deep shock of deja vu thundering through Adrien’s body. The lilt of her voice and the playfulness in her tone was so...so...Ladybug. When Ladybug had first called him Chaton she’d sounded just how Mari did now; so joyful and sweet and carefree, different to the Ladybug he’d patrolled with before he’d gone away. Ladybug had been stressed and overwhelmed, that much had shown in the brittleness of her demeanor when they’d last spoken.

“Chaton?” Marinette’s beautiful, big blue eyes met Adrien’s with concern. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, princesa, I was merely lost in a thought for a moment,” Adrien gave Mari an assuring smile that had her pressing her lips together in mild concern before returning to their full cupid’s bow shape. “I had a wonderful day but I’m not sure if Mi’lady would be overly happy with me spilling the beans and juicy details.”

He wanted to drop hints now. His gut told him that, if what Nino had said to him earlier today about Marinette’s perceptiveness (or lack thereof) was true, she might give away how she knew Ladybug without saying it outright. The amount of time Adrien had spent alone meant that he had become something of an expert in wheedling information out of people without them needing to be blunt, when it came to emotions though he’d never been good at deciphering those.

“Why would Ladybug be unhappy if you told me about your day?” The wind blew Mari’s fringe over her face and obscured her vision, with careful fingers, Chat swept the strands back behind her ear. The hard plastic claws on the tips of his fingers grazed the soft skin of her cheek with gentle precision, he didn’t want to hurt her or mark her, he just wanted to touch her but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to place his uncovered palm on her cheek. Not now anyway.

“Well, she’s your friend, and I know that Mi’lady cares very deeply for her friends, so much so that she and I don’t know who each other outside our masks so we don’t accidentally put our families and friends at risk. If I give away too much, you could be put at risk,” Mari’s head cocked to the side slightly at his words.

“I understand her worry about me, if I was a superhero like her, I’d want to keep my loved ones as safe as I possibly could,” She turned her face away from him and looked back out over the city. His eyes snagged on the round stud in the lobe of her ear again, the light allowed him to inspect them better. The shiny surface of the stud between the matte black dots had an almost red sheen to them. That red sheen looked like it could be so much more vibrant if the earrings were given some attention with some jewellery cleaner.

“Then you’ll have to take my word on how good my day was,” Adrien let some classic Chat Noir mirth seep into his voice as he nudged Mari back.

“I have to admit that I’m curious as to who you are behind that pretty black mask and interesting green contact lenses,” Adrien let out a rich laugh. That was his Marinette, curious but careful. She had more curiosity in her pinky fingernail than Adrien had in his entire body but she was more careful about it than he was, if she wanted to poke around in things she tended not to get herself into deep trouble.

“Of course you are, princesa, I wouldn’t expect anything less from the best friend of Alya Cesaire,”

“How do you know Alya?” Marinette faced him fully again, taking her arms off the railing and leaning against it with her hip.

“Does anyone not know the world’s first and best Ladyblogger?”

“Of course, you’d know about her from the Ladyblog,” A soft laugh escaped Marinette’s lips, almost sending Chat’s heart beating out of his chest. “I didn’t expect that you’d follow a blog about you and Ladybug.”

“Well, I can’t possibly follow a blog about you, can I, princess?” The smile on Mari’s face as Chat said those words was brighter than anything he’d ever seen in his life. To say that the sun dimmed when her smile appeared was far too much of an understatement; the sun wouldn’t need to shine ever again if Marinette never stopped smiling. “Or is there one that I’m not aware of?”

“You flatter me, Kitty, but I’m not that interesting, I wouldn’t have anything to post on a blog solely dedicated to me,”

“I beg to differ! You could tell the world about our chats and they’d still be the least interesting part of your life,”

“I wonder what you actually think I do in my daily life, Chaton,” Mari stuck her tongue out at Chat and giggled. “I think you are making me sound like I do so much more than I actually do.”

“An amazing aspiring fashion designer with designs to rival Gabriel Agreste himself,” Marinette blushed and ducked her head. “A sweet, kind and wonderful friend with boundless love and advice to give. I couldn’t imagine someone I’d want to stalk online more.”

“Oi!’ Mari whacked him in the ribs with her elbow at that comment. “Creepy Chaton.”

“Aww, you love my company, princess, don’t deny it! And I’m sure that you’re very flattered that I, the great Chat Noir, would go out of my way to stalk you online,”

“Think whatever you want, Kitty Cat, I’ll neither confirm nor deny your suggestion,”

“By neither confirming nor denying my suggestion, you’ve inadvertently confirmed it,” Marinette shook her head with a laugh and pulled Chat to sit beside her on the large, round daybed she’d been lounging in last time he visited her.

Chat crossed his legs beneath him on the daybed and fiddled with the end of his tail, curling and uncurling it around his baton as he and Mari sat in comfortable silence.

“I did miss you, you know,” Chat stopped playing with his tail and baton, meeting Mari’s eyes in the now completely dimmed light of day.

“Miss me when? When I was gone today?” 

“No! Not today, Chat! When you went wherever it was you went, I missed you a lot and Ti-,” Mari stopped herself. “Timena, a friend I made online who lives in New Zealand, said that I should tell you.”

Adrien had caught Marinette’s pause before she said ‘Timena’. He’d met the Ladybug Kawmi when he and Ladybug had fought Reflekta. Plagg hadn’t been unable to find him and Tikki hadn’t been able to find Ladybug so they’d swapped Kwami’s for the battle and discreetly swapped back, without seeing each other, after it was over. The pause after she said the first syllable added yet another layer of suspicion to the growing in his mind.

“Timena sounds like a smart guy,” Chat shot Mari a dimpled smirk.

“Timena is a girl, or she was last time I asked her, so I’ll trust her preferred pronouns over your assumed ones,” The sarcasm in Marinette’s voice was thicker than a concrete slab.

“You wound me, princesa,” Chat placed a hand over his heart and pouted at Mari, the pupils of his jade green eyes expanding in an almost comical way as they reflected the twinkling pinpricks in the sky behind her.

“Oh, your poor pride,” Chat ran his hand through his hair, brushing against the cat ears perched on his head as Mari teased him.

“I accept your apology,” Marinette stuck her tongue out at him. They sat in silence again for a little while, the sounds of Paris at night were so melodic to their ears. Snuggling down into the pillows, Mari asked Chat to tell her a story. It didn’t have to be about his life outside the mask, it didn’t even have to be true, but she wanted to listen to his voice. Hearing her ask him to speak to her, just speak and not talk, filled his stomach with butterflies. She liked listening to his voice, she enjoyed hearing him ramble; Adrien didn’t think he’d had a better compliment given to him in his entire life. As Chat spoke, telling a second hand story one of his friends from New York had shared with him, Marinette started to drift off to sleep, she moved around on the daybed and rested her head in Chat’s lap. 

She wasn’t sure why she’d so brazenly put her head in Chat’s lap but it felt right. He kept talking as she gazed up at the sky, her eyes blinking sleepily, reflecting the stars. Chat began to gently massage her scalp with his claws as he spoke, she let out a small groan, almost like a purr, that rattled around in his chest. He felt her breathing slow as she finally, fully drifted into a deep sleep, she looked so beautiful. He didn’t want to wake her up but he also didn’t want to move her off his lap, he was in heaven.

Continuing his story, Chat carefully moved Marinette so he could lift her up and carry her into her room. Holding her like a porcelain doll in his arms, he whispered the story to her as her head rested on his shoulder.

“Plagg, claws in,” Adrien whispered, the Cat Kwami came rocketing out of his ring. Plagg let out a loud yawn which caused Marinette to stir slightly in Adrien’s arms, he wasn’t scared of her waking up though. If she saw him holding her, she may think it only a dream but if she found it as real as it actually was when she woke, he didn’t care that she’d discover who he really was. He trusted Mari with his life, even if she didn’t know it. Ladybug might think her too fragile to know that Adrien Agreste was Chat Noir but something in him told him that Marinette knew who was behind Ladybug’s mask; this quietly strong girl wouldn’t go down without a fight if Hawkmoth came for her and tried to pry his identity from her. Mari hadn’t been akumatized yet and if she was strong enough to resist an Akuma, even with the crappy way Chloe treated her, Hawkmoth would have another thing coming.

Seeing the sleeping girl in Adrien’s arms, Plagg immediately shut his mouth and decided to keep his complaining for camembert until they got back to the Agreste Mansion. A small, red and black plush looking toy was curled on Marinette’s pillow as Adrien got closer to the bed. The small plush suddenly rolled over and blinked as Plagg floated over to Marinette’s desk and accidentally knocked an empty drink bottle off the side of it in his usual, disrespectful manner. Tikki’s huge eyes widened as she saw Adrien holding Marinette in front of her and Plagg, facedown, on Mari’s desk, snoring like the hum of a chainsaw. 

“A-adrien?” Tikki sleepily floated over to Adrien and floated in front of his face. “W-why’re you here?”

“I came to visit Mari...I didn’t expect you to be here,” The sight of Tikki had his heart thundering, his mind refused to accept what he’d been mulling over for a lot longer than the past few days. Marinette was Ladybug, Ladybug was Marinette. The girl that he’d loved for so long, that he’d worked beside and patrolled beside, was the same girl who brought him croissants at school in the morning because she knew he’d skipped breakfast, who had sat beside him in the movie today and who had assured him that his father loved him, was proud of him. Somehow, the thought of Mari keeping her identity as Ladybug a secret from him didn’t make him angry. He thought of how many times she’d told him that they couldn’t reveal who they were for the sake of their loved ones, and it only made the love he had for her grow stronger. Her parents, her grandparents, Alya, Alya’s family, Nino, Mylene, Ivan, Juleka, Luka, Rose, Alix, Max, Kim, they were all so important to her as Marinette, that of course she’d want to keep them safe from Hawkmoth as Ladybug. 

“You can’t tell her you know, Adrien,” Tikki warned, her tiny voice was shaking . “Since Master Fu gave up guardianship, she’s known that she has to reveal herself eventually but you have to give her time. Please let her tell you when she’s ready, Marinette has never wanted to keep this from you but she thought of the people she loved and how devastated she’d be if something happened to them and she didn’t want that to happen to you.”

“I won’t, Tikki,” Adrien balanced Marinette against himself as he pulled the covers of her bed back. “I understand that she needs time and I’ll give it to her, as both Adrien and Chat. She’s done so much for me, the least I can do is do this for her.”

“You love her, don’t you, Adrien?” Adrien gently laid Marinette down on her bed, Tikki floating worriedly beside him.

“I love her as Ladybug and I was developing feelings for her as Marinette, but now that I know that Marinette is Ladybug, I love both sides of her, she’s a very special person,” Marinette stirred slightly as Adrien carefully moved her pillow beneath her head and pulled her sheets up over her. “I couldn’t ask for a better Ladybug, Tikki, or a better Marinette.”

“Give her time,” Adrien pulled back from Mari and watched her roll slightly in her bed, pulling her sheets up around her chin with a soft sigh. “She…..she feels the same way about you, Adrien. But Marinette doesn’t know that it’s you behind Chat Noir’s mask so she’s conflicted; she knows how she feels about you but she doesn’t understand how she feels about Chat. Please, Adrien.”

“I promise you, Tikki, that I won’t tell her who I am until she’s ready. I would want her to do the same for me, if our roles were reversed,” Adrien tucked her hair back behind her ear and pressed a feather light-kiss to her temple. Marinette liked him too, but she’d only accepted him as Adrien. He knew that she’d accept him as Chat too, why wouldn’t she? “Sleep tight, Mari.”

“You should go, Adrien, before Plagg wakes up and starts pointing at his mouth,” With a smile on his lips and a lightness in his heart, Adrien nodded and called his Kwami back into the ring. Slipping out through the open doors to Marinette’s balcony, Adrien glanced at her sleeping form one more time and disappeared out into the night.

~~~~~~~~~TAGLINE~~~~~~

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DM me to be added to the tag line to get updates for when I post :P - I currently don’t have any plans to upload this to AO3 or Fanfic.net just yet but I might in the future so keep your eyes peeled!

I hope you enjoyed this! Feel free to leave me some comments on if you liked it and what you liked about it, I’m more than happy to hear what you think I can do better! If you’d like me to write a one-shot or story for you, DM me too because I love writing things for others and I can’t imagine anything better than helping put your headcanons into text (if you like how I write, of course). I won’t be actively trying to fill fan-service with this story so that’s why I’m offering to do one-shots for anyone with different ships (not just for miraculous fans, but DM me to see if I’m a part of the fandom first and if I’m not I will go out of my way to watch/read it.)

Lots of love, Rosie (@/miidgiemoo)

[emilyplaysotome]

Chapter 6 - Friendnapped

Catch up on Chapter 1 - 5 here! (or just Chapter 5)

It’s never pleasant seeing an ex move on, especially when you’re not entirely sure that you want your ex to be an ex in the first place. Compounded with the fact that his new girlfriend was everything that I wasn’t caused every fiber in my being to want to flee. 

Thankfully, my legs refused to listen.

Instead I stood frozen and watched as she accepted his hand (one that dwarfed her own) and he helped her stand tall once more in a way that reminded me of how he had been there for me. She was far more feminine than I’ve ever been in my life, with a slender frame that complimented Zyglavis’ more androgynous features. Standing next to her, he looked like the God he was in a way that he never did by my side - proud, masculine, and strong.

I forced myself to stay present, assuming that the king was rooting for me to run from such an unpleasant scene, giving him the upper hand when it came to Zyglavis’ new life in this world. At the moment, sharing a kiss with the man I had assumed I’d share my life with only a few weeks ago seemed impossible but I did my best to stay strong in face of adversity.

Instead of running away I apologized further, introducing myself to both of them and handing the woman my business card in an attempt to prove to her that I was a normal, capable woman and not some crazy person off the street.

“Really,” I said again, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok,” she said in a tone that was far less aggravated than the one taken during our initial exchange.

“Please, allow me to pay for your dry cleaning or something.”

“No, it’s fine I…”

“Thea, you should take her up on it,” Zyglavis said sternly.

“Thea?”

“Yes, sorry. I didn’t say my name did I? And this is…”

“Zyglavis.”

He said his name flatly, barely looking me in the eyes. His gaze was firmly on Thea and I assumed as a result that he was checking to see if she was alright. I knew Zyg long enough to know that he could be a bit of a worrywart when it came to the object of his affection, and I could feel the muscles in my chest constrict as it sank in that he might never worry about me in that way again.

Thea tucked a strand of her long, jet black hair behind her ear and with a similarly cold expression noted, “Well, I suppose. Naomi was it?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you Naomi, that’s very kind. Most New Yorkers probably wouldn’t even offer.”

“Oh that’s not true,” I said with a forced smile. “We get a bad rap but we’re actually a lovely group of people.”

Zyglavis kept glancing behind him at the hostess inside and each time he did I could feel my new reality sinking in. 

He and his new girlfriend (a clear upgrade when compared to his last), were going to have a nice dinner and here I was keeping them from it. Seeing him again reminded me of how much I missed him - a fact that the chaos of the past few days had distracted me from.

I missed my best friend. Zyglavis had been a loyal, kind man who was always there for me no matter the circumstance. He was a man who could sometimes be too strict and slightly too grumpy, but underneath it all always had my best interests at heart.

For a moment, everything seemed incredibly surreal and I almost felt as if any second he and this woman would laugh and tell me the past week was all a shitty joke. I wanted so desperately to go back to what was instead of what is, but I knew that I had no choice in the matter once the hostess popped her head outside and called, “Ziggy? Table for 2?”

“We will be in shortly,” he said politely to the hostess, and then with a sigh addressed Thea. “Ziggy? Really?”

She giggled and for the first time I saw how beautiful and blinding her smile was, “I couldn’t resist.”

Zyg shook his head and before she could run away I exchanged contact information with Thea under the guise that I would follow up with her in regards to the cost of her dry cleaning. I then was forced to watch him hold the door for her as they went inside - not once did he even so much as glance back at me.

I stood there dumbstruck for a moment and once I was certain that I was alone again, a maelstrom of emotion hit me with such strength that I was not only caught off guard but found myself rushing to a trash can nearby and vomiting into it. I never thought I was capable of something as dramatic as becoming physically ill over seeing an ex, but the king’s trials always managed to surprise me.

It shouldn’t have taken a meddling king for me to understand what I had with Zyglavis, but far too often we take someone for granted until they’re gone. For ten years of my life I lived having friendships, but never having someone who I could call my own. I never experienced having someone who was able to be there for me the way that Zyglavis always was and now that he was gone I felt adrift. 

Looking back he had constantly been present in the sense that my apartment was always taken care of, and at the end of every difficult work week he’d bring back chocolates made especially for me, as a small token of his love and appreciation for the life we forged together in this world. He was always up for listening to my problems and for laughing at my funny stories or holding me during the difficult ones.

He was a best friend in a way I’d never experienced with anyone else, and even though he proved to be more imperfect than I ever thought an otome man would be, that made him and the relationship all the more real.

By the time I was back at Meg’s I was a certifiable mess with runny mascara, tinged with the faint smell of vomit. I planned to hop in the shower and then to try and pack my things in order to distract myself from what Thea and Zyglavis might be doing together, but when I opened the door I soon realized that I was not alone.

“Omi? What the hell happened to you?”

Meg was standing in the foyer of her apartment hanging her light spring coat up in the closet. Down the hall, I saw her away bag on the floor of the living room and figured she had just gotten back.

“I thought you were coming home tomorrow?”

“I was, but I missed New York and my parents were driving me nuts.”

“Oh. Welcome back. Are you doing ok?”

Meg shrugged and it was clear that my friend and I were in similarly messy places. Even though she hadn’t been gone long I knew her well enough to see that she wasn’t sleeping. On top of that she appeared a good deal thinner than when she’d left and having gotten her through a previous breakup in college, I was well aware of the fact that she didn’t eat when she was stressed or upset.

She crinkled her nose and straightforwardly blurted, “Omi - why do you smell like vomit?”

If I hadn’t had such a difficult day, I don’t think I would have told Meg the truth in that moment. I think I would have made something up or vaguely addressed bumping into Zyglavis but for whatever reason I found myself saying, “You know me well enough to know that I’m not a liar, right?”

Meg shot me a curious look and nodded, leading me to the living room and prompting me to tell her the whole story - the real story. 

I watched as she looked on skeptically as I spoke, occasionally clarifying that I “really believed” that I had gone to the world of my “weird anime games” but ultimately let me tell my tale. I knew how far fetched it must have all seemed to her, but when I got to the part about the games not working, I pulled up the facebook posts as well as old screenshots from Zyglavis’ route that fans had posted online.

It was then that Meg’s disbelief started to wane (in addition to the fact that in all of our many years of friendship I’d never once misled her in any way and I had no tangible reason to concoct such a strange story now). She pulled up a photo she had on her phone of all of us from a few months back (before her breakup or mine) and compared the man by my side to the cartoon man from the post.

“Holy shit.”

“I never told you any of this because, well - I know it’s pretty unbelievable and…”

“There’s more?”

“Well..I was afraid you’d judge me if you knew that I chose to be with a cartoon character from a game. I mean how many years did I watch you guys…and now…”

Meg quickly cut me off, “And now we’re both in shambles thanks to two dudes. Doesn’t get more real than that even if he started as a cartoon character.” 

“His new girlfriend is stupid pretty,” I complained.

Meg hesitated for a moment as she sank dejectedly into her couch and said in a quiet voice, “You know, I didn’t tell you guys this but Noah broke up with me for some chick he works with.”

“What?”

Meg scoffed, “Yeah. If you didn’t already smell like barf I’d have us doing shots or some shit.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because it hurts more knowing that he gets to be happy and I have to be hurt.”

“I’m sorry Meg…”

I could see that Meg was trying to be strong as she fought back tears, biting her lower lip in an attempt to stay in control of her emotional state. I always considered her someone who was pretty tough and resilient and as a result, seeing her in this state amplified the hurt that I was already feeling. She sniffled and tried to shake off her tears as she focused on my problems over hers.

“So wait - this asshole…the king? He just showed up and ruined your relationship?”

“Well, I mean I kinda had a hand in it too. I started to take Zyg for granted and…”

“But you didn’t even get a chance to work it out right?”

“No.”

“Fuck that. And fuck his new girlfriend - if you want him, you’re going to get him back.”

I loved the fact that even though Meg was heartbroken, she was still so angry on my behalf.

“I don’t know,” I said skeptically. “The king said I’ve got to win all my ex cartoon men back and right now 3 are unaccounted for, the one I want most has moved on, another tried to mug me, and the last one I have a date with in a couple of days. The odds are not in my favor.”

“Nah, fuck that noise. We’re New Yorkers - when the going gets tough we’re used to it because so are we.”

“You are maybe…”

“No I’m a mess, but I”m still going to help you. We’ll find your cartoon men and at least one of us will get to live happily ever after, ok?”

“Meg…”

“You’re gonna make me cry if you look at me like that and you still smell like puke so go shower and we’ll come up with a plan after.”

“Meg…”

“Omi! I swear!”

I knew Meg didn’t want to cry but I couldn’t help myself from doing so. Not only did she believe me (or at least was being kind enough to pretend that she did), but she said she’d help me. 

I was immediately brought back to that day during the Revance tweeter takeover where I fantasized about having my friends’ support as I made my final decision on who I wanted to bring back to this world. For the past few days I’d reminded of what it was to be on my own once more and how it felt to have to do everything by myself and bear that burden alone.

Now, thanks to Meg’s generosity I would have a partner in crime and I owed her one for it.

I returned to the living room freshly showered and vomit free, and took out my notebook re-creating a space in Meg’s living room similar to the one in Zyglavis’ bedroom way back when. I even told her about my operation GTFO area and with a dry laugh she noted that was “a very Naomi thing to do”.

Meg also set up a few online profiles in order to help me in my search, and talked me through the fact that we had eyes on 3 of the 6 men. Toshi and Jin were completely MIA and the mystery suitor of mine was most likely not Shunichiro. Meg had me make a list of every otome man I’d met who potentially carried a flame for me during my time down the rabbit hole and when I handed her what felt like a reasonable list based on the information I had, she smirked and noted, “Girl, get it.”

“You don’t understand what it was like - they’re all programmed to want you when you’re the MC.”

“I mean, I’ve seen Zyg so I have a pretty good idea of what this world is like. Perhaps you can take me with you next time,” she joked. “In the meantime, I’ll look out for these names as I swipe and you should call the switchboard to see if Jin is NYPD.”

“Ok…thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

There was a moment where I paused and Meg looked at me with a skeptical expression, “What?”

“You do believe me, don’t you?”

“I mean...do…ish. You have to understand, I can’t really wrap my head around -”

There was a bright light that filled the room, in addition to the sound of a snap and a familiar presence that caused Meg to practically jump out of her seat. The king glared at me, and with a chuckle I found myself muttering, “speak of the devil.”

As I once had, I glanced over and saw Meg struggle to accept the reality of how crazy it all was. It was strange to see my typically eloquent friend stammer next to me, but it was all short lived as the king snapped his fingers for a second time, causing Meg’s eyes to glaze over and her stammers to fade. My friend would have a hard time not believing my story once she returned from her catatonic state, and with a sigh I knew that I’d done something that prompted an IRL visit from the king versus a cheeky text.

“Well I see that you’re up to your old tricks,” the king snapped. “The agreement was that you were able to find them and romance them - not that you’d have help.”

“I don’t believe the issue of having help or not was ever stipulated in your terms and conditions,” I snapped back. “And I hardly have the home court advantage considering what I’ve seen the past couple of days.”

“What have you seen? He was always a criminal - even in my world, was he not?”

“Yes but -“

“And that didn’t stop you the first time around, now did it?”

“It absolutely did stop me!”

“Mmmm tomato tahmahtoe,” he said flippantly with a smile, and I realized that as much as I was a thorn in his side, the king was clearly enjoying himself.

He tossed his long silvery hair back and with an unreadable, etherial smile paced before me as he considered what having an ally in this world might do to his game. It was obvious that I was one of the few people who was capable of throwing curveballs his way and as much as it annoyed him, he obviously relished how unpredictable his life was when I was in it.

“Well,” he said finally, “I guess we’ll do this.” 

He snapped his fingers and Meg disappeared from the couch beside me.

“You’ll get her back once you’ve found them all on your own. I think that’s more than fair. Very generous in fact!”

“That’s not fair at all! You can’t do that you -“

The king threw back his head and laughed, “Oh Naomi. You silly, silly girl - haven’t you realized? I can do whatever I want. You’re lucky I’m even letting you play in the first place.”

And with that, he snapped his fingers and left me all alone once more.

Chapter 7

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[minyoukyung]

BTS Imagine #13: BTS Summer Package 2020 (Part 5)

Word count: 1,660

Members featured: All

Description: The finale. All the loose ends get tied up, all the drama is resolved, and we all return to Korea closer than ever.

“Did you have a good time?” Yoongi asked me as our car started to pull away from the row of beach houses.

I turned my gaze away from the window to look at him.

“Yeah, I did,” I said honestly. “Even with everything that happened, it’s still one of the best memories I will ever have.”

Yoongi smiled at me warmly before his mouth stretched open in a huge yawn. He leaned against my shoulder, his eyes closed.

“I’m so glad I have you,” he murmured sleepily.

“Me, too,” I said, stroking his hair.

While Yoongi slept, my mind replayed the events of the night before. Having toasted way too many things, the boys had performed their own drunk rendition of “Boy With Luv.” I had joined in, of course, accompanying Yoongi during his rap, much to the delight of everyone else.

“Noona is part of rap line!” Jungkook yelled. “Yoongi-hyung, you’d better watch out!”

Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook later ended up chasing each other down the beach, splashing each other and shouting like lunatics. I was standing by myself, watching them affectionately, when Jin came up to me.

“I understand why you did it,” he said calmly, his gaze following mine. “Our family is so precious, not just to you but to me also. I don’t want to disrespect Yoongi and I don’t want to make things uncomfortable for the rest of the members if things don’t work out between us so that they feel they have to choose sides. It makes complete sense and I’m sorry that I didn’t see it at first.”

“Jinnie…” I bit my lip. “What I said… about choosing Yoongi over you… I–”

“No, you were right to say that,” he cut me off, shaking his head. “Family is important and I admire your loyalty. There will always be plenty of boys.”

I reached out and took his hand.

“But there’s only one Kim Seokjin,” I said quietly.

He looked down at our hands and then back up at me.

“We’re doing so well, it seems like this path that we’re on never stops,” he said. “But I know that we’re not going to shine this brightly forever… So maybe… when things slow down… When I’m only Seokjin instead of BTS’s Jin…”

He trailed off, leaving his sentence unfinished, but I knew what he was saying.

“Maybe,” I said.

He leaned forward slightly, then stopped, hesitating as if unsure. Then he seemed to have gathered up all his resolve because he moved closer. I closed my eyes, bracing myself.

When I felt his lips brush my forehead, I felt relieved. I wanted to thank him for understanding but when I opened my eyes, he was already gone.

Now, sitting in the car with Yoongi on our way to the airport so we could catch our flight back home to Korea, I was reminded that I had something very special. There may have been some tense moments during this trip but in the end, we all came out of it as one happy family. That was all I ever really wanted.

I shook Yoongi awake gently when we arrived at the airport. We went through security and then waited to board our flight.

“Are you glad to be going home?” Yoongi asked me as he handed me an iced coffee.

“It’s always nice to be going home,” I said, accepting the cup gratefully and taking a sip. “But we’ll have to come back here for a real vacation someday.”

“I would love that,” he said, smiling as he sat down in the chair next to me.

We still had about half an hour until our flight and the airport had graciously provided us with a private waiting area away from the other passengers. The others were all getting food so only Yoongi and I were in the waiting area.

“I saw Jin-hyung approach you last night,” he said nonchalantly. “How did that go?”

“It went well,” I replied truthfully. “He said he understands where I’m coming from.”

“Did you tell him that you have feelings for him?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “That would only make things harder. Besides, after this trip, I think that he still has a lot of growing up to do. He needs to focus on himself and the group right now. I don’t think that now would be a good time for either of us.”

“You’re so wise, it’s annoying sometimes,” Yoongi teased, taking a sip of his iced Americano.

Soon, the rest of the members joined us in the waiting area.

“Oh! You guys have to wear your penalty outfits when we arrive back home!” I remembered.

Jimin, Hoseok, and Jin all grimaced. As the losers of the game they had played on the last episode of RUN BTS, they had to show up at the airport back home in penalty outfits designed by Taehyung and Jungkook.

We boarded our flight, eager to return to the dorms and sleep in our own beds. Yoongi buckled himself in to the seat next to me before stretching out his legs in front of him.

“I think ARMY will really enjoy this year’s Summer Package,” he said thoughtfully. “We look the happiest we’ve ever been.”

“I hope you actually are the happiest you’ve ever been,” I told him.

“We are!” he assured me. “The happiest.”

I smiled, reaching over and squeezing his hand.

“Good.”

The flight back home was long. Yoongi was asleep for the first half of it, despite having downed a large iced Americano right before boarding. I used the time to work on some new lesson plans for the boys and to catch up on some reading. Having expended so much energy over the past several days, the other members were quiet, making the flight a peaceful one.

Almost sixteen hours later, we landed in Seoul.

“I don’t know how I can go back to working after such a nice vacation,” Jungkook said wistfully, stretching his arms over his head. “All that sun and ocean breeze felt so good.”

“Don’t you guys have to go film a new ad with VT Cosmetics?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s still work,” Jin said. “It’s not easy being this handsome.”

I laughed, glad to see that he was acting like the Jin I knew and loved most. It would take time but things were already on their way back to normal.

After collecting our luggage, Jimin, Hoseok, and Jin disappeared to change into their penalty outfits. As we exited through the sliding doors of the airport, they reappeared at the last minute and I couldn’t help but burst into heavy laughter.

The three of them were dressed in head-to-toe onesies, Jimin resembling a chick, Jin a mouse, and Hoseok a squirrel. We could hear the rapid sounds of cameras clicking as we were greeted by the usual reporters. Hoseok waved enthusiastically at them, his energy unmatched even when dressed up this way. Jimin looked adorably shy as he bowed to the cameras before sliding into a waiting company car. Jin blew a kiss towards the reporters, owning his outfit the way only he could.

We all got into our respective company cars, still laughing as we drove away from the airport.

“I’m a little disappointed that you don’t get to wear a onesie,” I told Yoongi, teasing. “Yours would’ve been a cat.”

“It would’ve,” he agreed, “but I’m not putting that out there just so that ARMY can pull up a picture of a similar-looking cat and compare us side by side.”

I grinned knowingly. He wasn’t wrong–that was exactly what would’ve happened if he had to wear a cat onesie as a penalty.

By the time we arrived back at the dorms, the photos of Jimin, Jin, and Hoseok were already trending on Naver’s home page and were all over various social media platforms. I saw myself in a shot someone had managed to snap of Yoongi and I getting into the car and had to force myself not to look at the comments.

I dropped my suitcase on the floor, not wanting to unpack just yet. I slumped face down on my bed, feet dangling off the edge. My mind started replaying the entire trip, from the moment we arrived to when we left–the good and the bad. My life here in Korea would always be made up of the good and the bad, but as long as I had my family, the good would always outshine the rest.

“Don’t feel like unpacking either?”

I lifted my head to see Yoongi leaning against the door frame.

“No, because then it’ll feel like it’s really over,” I said, sighing.

Yoongi curled up on the bed next to me and started rummaging around in his hoodie pocket.

“I got you this while we were there,” he told me, taking my hand and dropping something into it. “I just wanted to wait until we got back to give it to you.”

Hanging on a black leather cord was a perfectly scalloped shell in a dainty hue of pale blush pink.

“Yoongi, it’s so pretty,” I whispered in awe.

“In ancient times, the shell was a symbol of protectiveness, especially towards someone you love,” he said, once again amazing me with his vast knowledge. “I know I didn’t really go about it the right way while we were in Bora Bora but I promise that I will always protect you from anyone or anything that would hurt you.”

I slipped my arms around him, one hand forming a protective fist around the necklace while the other rested flat on his back as I snuggled against him.

“You’re the best oppa in the world,” I said sincerely, “and I love you more than words can express.”

He shifted so that his chin was resting on the top of my head.

“‘Yoongi-oppa, I love you’ would be a good start.’”

[kinky-bean-buddy-blog]

The Beginning of the Adventures of Frankie and Sage

My therapist told me when I was sixteen that I needed to find a way to “vent” my feelings into constructive energy. Catharsis, he called it. He suggested drawing. The next therapy session I brought in a folder of the same doodle with different colors; a cartoon tyrannosaurus rex, attempting to play a trombone with its tiny arms.

“Your troubles are apparent in what you’re portraying in these. You feel frustrated like the T’rex, because you’ve been given a myriad of what seems impossible tasks.”

“Bullshit.” Then I left. Seventy dollars an hour for complete bullshit. I didn’t go back, but I did take up running. Maybe his advice wasn’t as useless as it seemed. Every time I felt like lashing out,  I started running around our two block street, and sometimes didn’t stop until I was completely exhausted.

That’s where I was now, nine years later, still running. Now it was less an escape and just pure habit. The sweat beaded along my brow, and dripped down my neck. I’d lost track of how long I’d been running, but I was in touch with my body. There was no burning in my legs, a deep ache in my stomach, a taste of dried spit in my mouth, and steady breathing. I could’ve kept going another lap, but the pain in my stomach, caused by my own stupidity of not eating breakfast, was demanding too much attention.

I turned onto Sweets Avenue, and sprinted down the cracked side-walk, extending my stride, and pumping my arms. I closed my eyes and imagined a thick rope  between me and my childhood house. Every time I threw my hand forward I grabbed onto the rough twine and pulled back. My legs were no longer the driving force carrying me to my destination. I drew in a deep breath, lungs burning, heart pumping over time, and took the final steps of my morning jog.

Everything came to a stop. My body hit an invisible wall. I coughed a bit and rested my hands on my knees to stay propped up. Dry heaving wracked my stomach and throat. Then the dizziness hit. I knew I should’ve cooled down properly and walked, or stretched, or something, but I as soon as my stomach decided to reject that morning’s activity I gave literally zero fucks.

I walked into the house. Normally it was well lit and radiating warmth from the kitchen. This morning, as I walked down the narrow hallway, wood flooring creaking with each step, there was an unusual amount of quiet in the Donamaria household. I pegged it on my brother’s bachelor party last night. Although my parents didn’t join us at the “gentleman’s” club, they still stayed up later than usual to make sure my brother, all of his friends, and I got home safely. Anthony was surely sleeping off a hangover, along with the rest of his buddies. I was the designated driver.

I couldn’t let last night’s activities stop me from my morning routine. I made a sharp left, entered the mudroom, and kicked off my worn running shoes. I took off my ball cap and hung it on the wall. Sweaty hair held up by the hat fell into my eyes. I quickly ran my hand back through the mess and pushed the locks back somewhat in place. By feeling alone I was able to tell how in need of a hair cut I really was, and after a quick glance in the mirror I realized chestnut brown roots sneaking through the platinum blonde. On a good day my hair was cut closely to the sides, flopping neatly over the top in a quiff shape.

I could get it done before the wedding.

“Which is..” I mumbled to myself, pulling out my phone to check the date. “In two days.” Yeah, I could get it done. Grabbing a granola bar from the pantry and a water bottle from the frig, I padded up the steps as quietly as possible. I crammed as much of the chewy granola  into my mouth as humanly possible and chomped, washing it down with the contents of the plastic bottle. I took a detour from my bedroom to the restroom, opting for a shower. I adjusted the temperature handles  to my liking and pulled up the plug on the bath faucet to redirect the water to the shower head.  peeled off my sweaty clothes, and stepped under the stream of water that felt cool on my overly heated skin. I closed my eyes and faced toward the water.

I let the events of last night take hold of my thoughts again. The nightclub atmosphere; loud dance music, the smell of sweat and alcohol, careless laughs of the those losing all inhibitions, scantily clad, beautiful women dancing on poles and on other women, gripping their assets. I shivered as  my abdomen heated up.

“Have a little fun, Frankie!” Anthony’s best man, Damien said, hanging his arm around my shoulder. It was a bit of an exaggeration to call it “saying”. Damien yelled, mixed with slurred, over the speakers. I wrinkled my nose at the scent of alcohol on his breath.

“I’m having plenty fun.” I replied, sardonically. “Good, good fun.” Despite his drunken state he remained unconvinced. Less than five minutes later, after Damien had to “drain the vein”, I was being pulled into a secluded room by one of the only fully dressed workers in the place. She closed the door behind me, and not knowing what else to do, I sat in the chair in the middle of the room. The walls were painted black, but there were bright lights shaded pink lining the trim. The shade reminded me vaguely of my himalayan salt lamp back at my apartment in Clifton.

I wished I was there. As I thought about my comfortable bed and cuddling with my border collie, lab mix, Benny, the door behind me opened. The first thing that caught my attention was a gentle wave of long, amber hair that fell down to the middle to a distinctly feminine curve of her spine. I don’t know why I always looked at hair first. Symbolically long, loose hair such as hers was associated with virginity, innocence even, Something told me that was not the case here. She closed the door behind her, and  stalked closer to me.

Next, I took into account her shorter stature and willowy frame. Tanned skin, supple breasts, defined collar bones, accentuated muscles- everything about her screamed sensuality. Her bare leg slipped in between my thighs. I felt her eyes glazing over me, but I didn’t want to make eye contact. I didn’t want to accept I was really letting this happen. She smoothly transitioned into a full straddle across my lap, and gently traced her hands over my chest and onto my shoulders to rest. Her soft touch gave me incredible chills. Her hips began to move and as did her mouth along the crook of my neck. My sweet spot. I couldn’t help it. I melted into it. I let myself go.

“Not quite used to doing this for a lady.” The sultry voice was unforgettable. The words stung my ears and pulled my back and away from reality at the same time. I was no longer in a strip club sitting under a drop dead gorgeous woman, but sitting in Mr. Montgomery’s biology classroom, petrified and on the verge of a breakdown because of one person.

I plucked up the courage to look at my seducer’s face. Striking green eyes stared back at me. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. Then after the shock faded the realization hit me; Sage Watson, the mythic bitch that made my life fucking hell for six years was giving me a mother fucking lap dance.

I quickly pushed her off, and stood. I wasn’t enough of an asshole to just leave her there so I helped her up.

“Hey, Miss. What’s the deal? Did I do some-”

I ran out of the room as fast as I could and spent the rest of the night in the car with the heat up all the way, listening to NPR, as I waited for the rest of my party to leave.

I still couldn’t fucking believe it. I had the opportunity to make her pay for everything she had done, but I didn’t. As I rinsed the apple scented soap from my hair I talked to myself like I was still there, talking to her.

“Serves you right to become a stripper. That’s what you get for cheating on your chemistry final. Fucking hell, Frankie, who the fuck would ever actually say that?”

Exasperated, angry, and horny, I masturbated to that one hot chick off of Game Of Thrones, and then sat down under the falling water. I pulled my knees to my undersized breasts and rested my forehead in between them, my thoughts spinning out of control wildly. Why did I she have to come back into my life now when I had come so far?

[mfmagazine]

Sarah Butler

Article by Michelle Nelson

Photo by Frankie Batista

Sarah Butler is nothing short of hardcore in the role of Jennifer in the remake of I Spit On Your Grave. The original version of this film, released in 1978, sparked a great deal of controversy.  Some viewed the film as a powerful feminist movie that dealt with rape and male sexual violence against women.  Others viewed it as exploitative and unnecessarily violent.  The film was actually banned in many countries until the late 90s.  Sarah Butler plays the role of Jennifer Hills, a writer who decides to spend the summer alone in a cabin to try to get some work done and is brutally raped, attacked and left for dead by a group of men.  Hills’ reaction to this attack was revenge and she went from being a victim to going on a killing/torture rampage against her attackers.  Butler took on this challenging role with courage and versatility and transitioned from being a victim to being an avenger seamlessly.  I was able to talk to Butler about the experience of filming I Spit On Your Grave, the challenges of playing the role of Jennifer, and Meir Zarchi’s motivation for creating the original movie.

Are you a big horror movie fan?

Ahh...the dreaded question.  I'm actually not.   Not that I dislike horror movies, I've just never watched very many.  I get really scared watching them.   Would you like to act in more horror movies in the future?

Definitely.  It would have to be the right role, and the right timing, but I think horror movies can be really fun to shoot.   Being in a horror film seems like it could be pretty emotionally, as well as physically, draining.  Was that the case for your while filming I Spit on Your Grave?

It was more the case with this film than almost every other horror movie out there.  I know that's a bold statement, but I'm sticking by it.  Portraying a character who is humiliated, tortured, and gang raped was the most physically and emotionally draining experience of my life.  And then I had to turn it around and become the avenger, which required just as much effort.  To hold onto that intense rage through the shooting of all the revenge scenes was so unnatural for me.  It really took it out of me.  I went home to visit my family in Washington for thanksgiving afterwards and immediately came down with the flu because my body and mind were so exhausted.   This was your first time being the lead actress in a movie. Were you nervous?  What was it like preparing for the role?

Yes, it was.  And yes, I was nervous.  But I was resolved to do my best, and I had been preparing for a chance like this for a long time, so I knew what I needed to do to carry the film.   Hopefully I pulled it off.  The crazy part was that I didn't really have much time to prep.  I was cast and left for Louisiana to shoot two weeks later.  Unfortunately, when you're that down to the wire, it's hard to make time to prepare for your role.  I pretty much shut myself off to my friends and used every spare moment I had to go over the script.     What would be your dream role to play?

If I could compare to a role that's already been played, Elizabeth Swan from Pirates of the Caribbean.  I love fantasy and adventure films, so that kind of thing is right up my alley.   Also, Keira Knightly got to be beautiful, feminine, smart, emotional, but also, a bad-ass pirate chick!  I'm jealous.  I've heard there's a Hansel and Gretel project out there, and I've got my eye on that.  It sounds like it's going to be amazing.   Before being cast, had you ever seen the original I Spit on Your Grave movie?

Not before being cast, but once I was cast I ran right out and rented it.  The guy at the movie rental shop, a tiny, non-corporate place that went out of business about a month later, went to the back and found it for me.  He was reading the back of the DVD case as he walked up to me, and then he said "I think I'll watch this when you return it.  It looks funny."  I was like, "Dude, I don't think so.  But yeah, watch it!"  It was definitely NOT a funny movie.   The original film stirred up quite a bit of controversy.  Some people thought of it as a feminist film, some thought of it as brutally and unnecessarily violent.  What are your views of the film?  

Well, it was the beginning of a great opportunity for me, so I can't say a bad thing about it.  It gave me the greatest role of my career so far, and for that I will be forever grateful to Meir Zarchi.  I understand every point of view regarding this film.  I can definitely say it's not for everyone.  But it helps to know why this film was made in the first place.  Meir was living in New York City in the mid 70s, and one night, or very early morning, he was driving through central park on his way home.  A woman, naked, bloody, beaten, and almost dead stumbled into the road in front of him, screaming for help.  She had been brutally attacked and raped by multiple men.  Meir put her in the car, took her to the hospital, and then wondered for many months after what she must have gone through emotionally after that terrorizing experience.  I think his original film explored the darkest fantasies of violated women.  As humans, it is part of our natural healing process to dream of revenge, even though most would never really attempt it.  If you can accept this film as a very honest depiction of a sad reality of society, that women are attacked and raped, then maybe it should even be praised for bringing light to a subject that is normally kept in the dark.  Women who are violated in this way shouldn't be ashamed to come forward and seek justice for their attackers.     Do you think that playing the character Jennifer made you have a different outlook on the movie than if you were just someone watching the movie from a totally outside perspective?

Of course!  Totally!  I would have most likely never watched this film, or the original, if I hadn't been cast in it. I probably would have been part of the masses that immediately dismiss it as exploitation without even watching a frame.  That's ignorant.   Becoming Jennifer absolutely brought the subject closer to home and created some of my stronger opinions about it.   The original version of this movie features a good deal of nudity.  How was nudity handled in your version of the film?  How comfortable or uncomfortable were you with it?

Yes, there was an awful lot of nudity in the original, which probably contributed to getting it labeled as "exploitation".  I truly believe that although there is full nudity in our film--and not too sparsely either--there is not one exploitative frame featuring my nude body.  There is a wipe up my midsection as I get out of my car fully clothed in one of the first scenes of the film, and I joked with the other cast members that that shot is the most exploitative in the whole film.  It's true though, when I'm naked, never for a second is it sexy.  It is heartbreaking and sickening, and my skin is shown just enough to evoke the sense of pity that is necessary, and nothing more.  Meeting my director, Steven, for the first time, completely eased my fears about the nudity in this film.  He is such a good man, a family man, and a very normal guy.  So when it came time to shoot these scenes, I felt very comfortable knowing that he would use nudity in only the most necessary and respectful ways.  He outdid my expectations.  He handled it exquisitely.   How does your version of I Spit on Your Grave differ from the original movie?

The biggest change is my revenge on the men.   We've lengthened it, and added some torture elements to even out the cause and effect sides of the movie, and to give the audience something to cheer about in the second half.  It worked!  I don't use my sexuality to avenge the men.  In the original, Camille Keaton's Jennifer actually slept with some of the men before killing them.  Just about everyone on the production team was opposed to this, so instead of sex, I use twisted mind games and rusty gardening tools.  Other than that, we've added a character, a sheriff, played by the brilliant Andrew Howard, and updated the look of the film through the amazing hand-held stylings of Neil Lisk, our director of photography/camera operator.   What were some of the things you did to prepare for your role in this movie?  Did you do any special research?  Any special physical training?

I didn't have time.  But I did practice going to very dark places, almost animalistic, to prepare for portraying the post-rape Jennifer.  Living in the woods, and a very creepy abandoned old house with no windows, doors, electricity or plumbing I think anyone would turn a little strange, not to mention the emotional hell Jennifer went though during that time.   Where was the movie filmed?  Is there anything interesting that you can share about the environment or the set where the movie was filmed?

The movie was filmed in beautiful Shreveport, Louisiana.  There are lots of films being shot out there because of the amazing tax benefits to production studios.  There were at least three others while we were there.  But our film actually should have been made there regardless.  Everything from the run-down houses and trailers of the rapists to the beautifully haunting swamplands were absolutely perfect for the look of our film.  The one location that really sticks out to me is the shack, as we called it, or the abandoned house I performed my revenge in.  That place really gave everyone the willies.   It was very cold inside and genuinely had a bad vibe to it, almost like you could tell something really bad had gone down there.  When the crew was setting up they found dozens of children's shoes out back in the shrubs and vines.  Some of the local crew said they might remember something in the news back in the 60s about a child molester in the area.  I didn't like being there, but I have to admit, sitting in that environment probably helped bring out some of the darkest parts of my nature.   Whose idea was it to remake this movie?  How did the idea come about?

I wasn't really around for that part, but as far as I know, Cinetel films acquired the rights to the original a couple years ago.  Apparently, many had tried to buy the rights from Meir Zarchi over the years, but he didn't trust any of them until he met Lisa Hansen.     Are you currently working on any other projects?  Is there anything exciting you have in the works that you would like to share with our readers?

I wish I could say yes, but I'm currently just waiting for the right next thing to come my way.  I've had some offers but nothing that strays too far from this film.  I started my career with a huge challenge (this film), and I want to keep up that trend.   I'm not interested in fluffy roles, or roles that are too similar to ones I've already played.  Maybe I'm being too picky, but I'm sure something will come soon and sweep me off my feet.   How did you get involved in acting?  Do you have any formal training?

I've been doing it since I was about 10 years old, in my driveway with my best friend putting on plays for our parents, in school plays, and later community theater.  I moved from Washington State to Los Angeles at 18 to major in theater at the University of Southern California.  I left there to act as Belle at Disneyland, and left that to seriously pursue an acting career in Hollywood.  I've taken classes with some of the best, including Lesly Kahn and Harry Mastrogeorge.  It is my life, and I will continuously be studying it.

[citrusrei]

Testosterone Boys pt. 2

Reader x F*ckboi!Yoongi SYNOPSIS: An agreement of sorts is reached. GENRE: Angst, Fluff. WORD COUNT: 8.3k PART 2 OF 2

(Second part to Testosterone Boys)

AN: the italics are a flashback lmao, just a quick head’s up! <3

“I’m not playing, asshole. Give them to me.”  

Around this time is when people surrounding you guys including, Hoseok, Namjoon, and even Jimin started listening in on your conversation but you didn’t mind an audience. Oh no, you wanted the world to see you knock Kim Taehyung out cold.  

“I’m serious, babe. I don’t have your undies. I sure wish I did though, they were fucking adorable.”

“Alright, Tae. Humor me. If you don’t have them. Then who does?” You sighed. Your anger was at the back of your throat now and your fists clenched. You were sure your knuckles were almost white.

Taehyung laughed once again, bringing his fingers to your chin to turn your gaze to his.

“Min. Yoon. Gi.”

"What?" You scoffed, your eyes automatically rolling, "Yoongi doesn't have my underwear. I just talked to him."

"Are you sure? 'Cause, I handed them over to him earlier. Lord knows how badly he wanted those. That pathetic little crush of his. On you! Of all people." He sighed.  

His words might have hurt you if you were actually paying attention to them. But no, he lost you at "Pathetic little crush". Yoongi had a crush on you? Min Yoongi? The Min Yoongi who skipped classes, or showed up high, fucking girls left and right Min Yoongi? Could have fooled you.  

You felt your face heat up. Of course, he was gorgeous and you'd be lying to yourself if you said you'd never thought of him in that light but he wasn't your type... Was he? Did you even have a type? And if you did, did fuckboy fall into that category?

"Aw, don't tell me. You have a crush on him as well? The good girl falling for the burnout. How 2003 chick flick of you both."  

You winced at Taehyung's tone. What happened to the nice, good guy he came off to be? Was that all just a facade? And you didn't have a crush on Yoongi, did you? I mean, yeah, he looked amazing tonight and yeah, a butterfly or two may have fluttered around your chest any time he was near you, but that's not a crush, right? That's just how you felt around Yoongi normally.

You vaguely remembered one of the first times Yoongi spoke to you. You'd known of his reputation because who didn't? Not that it ever mattered to anyways. Honestly, you didn't care if he slept around or smoked pot all day. That was his business and if he treated you with respect, then you'd treat him nicely back. Simple as that.  

It was your Sophomore year, nearly two years ago that you met Min Yoongi in your world literature class. Of course, he was failing and of course you were top ranked so it was a no-brainer to the teacher for you to stay after class and tutor him; everyday.

"Min Yoongi, I know you're not a fan of this whole school thing, but you should at least graduate! Then at least you can be a bum but have a diploma!" Yoongi winced, the choice of words she used not settling well with him.

"If you fail this class, you'll have to take it during summer school. I have no choice but to have this student tutor you."

"But, Mrs. Yoo, I-I have um, basketball practice after school everyday! I can't miss that!" He lied. The teacher rolled her eyes before speaking,  

"Mr. Min, I know you don't play basketball. With how much you smoke, there's no way your lungs could handle it."

Yoongi sighed, accepting his defeat, "Okay, but can you at least tell me who the student is?"  

"She should be here any second, so just take a seat and wait."

It was like he was made out of sighs and eye rolls because that's exactly what he did before taking a seat at the front muttering, "This is so lame."

No more than a few minutes later, a small knock was heard on the door frame accompanied with a "Mrs. Yoo?"

"Ah yes, (Y/N), dear. Come in and sit down. This is your pupil, Min Yoongi. Min Yoongi this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Please. Be nice to her."

Your eyes widened when you saw who you were tutoring, all though you had somewhat of an idea who it could be due to your teachers hinting. She clued that it was someone who never really showed up, so he didn't know the coursework. Which meant it was either Yoongi, Hoseok, or Namjoon. However, even despite their absences you still knew how smart Namjoon was due to the fact that you've known him since elementary, English being one of his fortes and Hoseok; well you weren't sure of his knowledge in other classes but a few months back your teacher paired the two of you up for some Shakespeare project and he could quote and reference him beautifully. It was like he'd grown up in that time period, which really impressed you. But with Yoongi, you really had no idea what his intelligence was like. Did he even know what book you were reading in class?

"Okay, go on and take a seat, (Y/N). I have to go make copies of tomorrow's lesson so I'll be back in 15!"

You watched as her petite frame left the classroom before turning back to Yoongi. He was already face first into the desk, clicking his mechanical pencil until the led dropped to the ground.

"If you waste all your lead, what will you write with?" You joked, trying to ease the tension. His cat like eyes darted up to you before returning to his pencil, starting the clicking again.

You sat at the desk next to him, pulling out your notebooks, extra scratch paper and of course the book you were reading currently in class; Fahrenheit 451.

"Okay, so literally the assignment right now is to go and find 5 examples of foreshadowing and write about it. I'll give you one, and then you tell me one, okay?" You said, opening your notes and turning to Yoongi in your chair.

"You know, I've only read like 4 chapters of the book, right?" A sigh escaped your lips, figuring that would be the case.

"Well, you've read more than I thought you did." You laughed and Yoongi quirked an eyebrow.  

"Okay, well let's get started then!"

Yoongi ended up knowing a lot more than you thought as it turned out he read more than half the book so the two of you breezed through the assignment no issue. Naturally, you worked through some other assignments he was missing and in the end, bumped his grade up from failing to a solid D.  

Even though he gave off that 'cool, idgaf' attitude, you could see right through it. You could just tell that he was happy about the grade, even though he'd never admit to it and if asked, he'd vehemently deny it. You found yourself smiling as his threatened to break past his cool exterior and you decided that tutoring him wouldn't be half as bad as you thought it'd be.  

Over the course of the next couple of weeks, the tutoring continued. He'd show up a little after you but was never later than 15 minutes passed the final bell. You thought it was kind of endearing that he was so interested in getting his grade as high as he could with your help. It made you feel important.  

He even started coming to class regularly. Of course there were the occasional days he'd miss but you'd say 3-4/5 days a week he'd be there. Of course, he'd sit near you cause he was comfortable with you. You'd always answer questions if he had any, you'd laugh at any joke he said and you'd scold him if he was late or didn't show up. He liked that you were hard on him because no one had ever been that way before. It showed that you cared, in his opinion.

"Hey." Yoongi whispered to you 20 minutes into the midterm exam. You side-eyed him as a way to tell him to not talk to you right now. Clearly you were busy.  

"Pssst." He hushed, poking you with the end of his pencil.  

"What." You hissed back, loud enough for the teacher to look up and scan the room. You busied yourself back into the test sheet as did Yoongi. Once you were in the clear, you looked back to him who was already looking at you. You felt your cheeks flush at his obvious stares and your eyebrows knitted together.

"What, Min Yoongi?"  

"What are you doing after school today?" His question confused you. What did he mean? Of course you were tutoring him. He should know that by now, it had been the same schedule for the past 3 weeks.  

"What? I'm tutoring you, stupid." He laughed only slightly, loving how much sass was coming from you today.

"Okay, but what about after? It's a friday night. Have any plans?" His tone was quiet and you weren't sure if it was because he didn't want to get caught talking during a test or if he didn't want to be heard asking you out. Your head turned back to the test as you spoke,

"I think I'm going to a movie with Jimin, why?" You tried to act as nonchalantly as possible. Not wanting Yoongi to know that you were dying to know was he was getting at.

"Jimin? Is that your boyfriend or something?" He scoffed, causing the teacher to shush the both of you. Your face went red in embarrassment and Yoongi snickered at your beet red cheeks.

"So, is he?" He asked again, you taking too long to answer the first time.  

"No." You mouthed, finishing up the last couple of questions and setting your pencil to the side of your desk. Yoongi looked at his test and realized he still had more than half left with only 20 mins of class but still deemed this conversation more important.

"Good." He mumbled, almost too quietly for you to hear but still, you did. What was good? That Jimin wasn't your boyfriend or was he confident in his test answers? What was going on with him today?

"Look, there's a party tonight. You should come." He finally said. You stayed quiet weighing your options. Go to a party where Yoongi will be? Or go to a movie with your best friend? While you loved Jimin and wanted to see the movie, you'd never been to a party before. And never had you been asked by someone like Min Yoongi. You decided you could probably talk Jimin into it.

Yoongi hated that you didn't answer him, not that he asked you a question but he was really dying to have you come to this party. Over the past 3 weeks he found himself having a lot more interest in World Literature and it wasn't because of Macbeth. He hated disappointing you, so he'd show up as much as he could. He'd come everyday to your tutor sessions not because you were amazing at tutoring him, but that he loved watching you get so passionate. He loved hearing all of your opinions about heavy subjects, he loved the small banter the two of you shared, he loved the casual talking about one another's day when he first arrived. The "How was your day?" Question you asked everyday was one of the highlights of his day. He didn't know when he first fell for you. Whether it was the first session or the second or the third or the fourteenth, all he knew was that he did.

He put up with teasing from Namjoon and Taehyung about how "serious" he was about his education now when they thought it only about trying to get into your pants. But that wasn't it at all. He genuinely wanted to take you out and get ice cream or go to a movie or just walk somewhere so he could hold your damn hand and maybe kiss you at the end of the night. It almost scared him to think he had fallen for someone this deeply and even to this day he thought he could deny it and maybe even talk himself out of it, but he knows that he'd be lying. He hated how vanilla he became around you. This wasn't who he was, was it? He wasn't the type to do dates, hell, he didn't even do relationships so why the fuck did he want to go steady with you? He was willing to give up his old ways for you. He'd stop fucking around, he'd stop hanging out with such assholes or in the least stop being so impressionable around them. He'd even give up smoking for you. If that didn't show he was serious about you, then he didn't know what was.  

After the class was over and somehow Yoongi miraculously finished his exam he turned it in and caught up with you in the hallway. You were waiting for Jimin so you could head to lunch as you always did so it wasn't hard to find you.

"So? Will you come?" Yoongi smiled when he met you. Your heart lurched in your chest, secretly loving all the attention he was giving you today.

"Are you asking me out, Min Yoongi?" Right as the words left your mouth, you wanted to bury yourself where you stood. The heat running up the course of your neck could be felt by other people a mile away, but all Yoongi did was smile wider.

"I mean, maybe I am? Why, does it bother you?" Your eyes widened as you looked up to him and he let out a small laugh, his own heart beating like a drum so loud he was surprised you couldn't hear it.  

He was nervous. He'd never really been rejected before and if the girl he was utterly infatuated with denied him, he didn't know how he'd ever live it down.

"No, it doesn't." You boldly said, now causing Yoongi's eyes to widen before his face broke out into a gummy smile that had your stomach in knots and your heart singing.  

Yoongi couldn't help it and he didn't care if he was making himself seem like a huge dork. He thought that you'd better get used to it now because he was going to ask you out at the party tonight and if you agreed, you'd never see another side of him. He'd be in a constant state of bliss.

"So, does that mean you'll come?" He pegged on, you giggled a bit and it was music to Yoongi's ears.

"We'll see what I can do." You saw Jimin walking up behind Yoongi so you said a quick 'see ya later' to the dark haired man in front of you, leaving him with a goofy grin plastered to his face that stayed there the remainder of the day.

"So about the movie-" You and Jimin said at the same time.

"You first." He laughed, you laughing along with him.

"No, no. You go ahead."  

"Okay. So, I know you wanted to go see that movie tonight but... There's a party." Your eyes lit up and your ears perked at Jimin's words. Maybe you wouldn’t have to beg him after all.  

"It's at Namjoon's," He continued, "I think we should go. We're sophomores and haven't been to a house party before! I think it'll be good for us."  

"Sure, let's go." You quickly answered, almost too quick that it had Jimin stuttering.

"R-really? You wanna g-go?" He asked, his eyes as wide as saucers.

"Yeah! Why not? I think it'll be fun." Jimin's face lit up as a smile grew on his lips, "You met a girl, didn't you?" You added. Jimin's smile dropped instantly, turning shy and blushy.  

"Ah, that's not it, (Y/N)." He whined, but you could see through his lie. You laughed, ruffling Jimin's natural colored hair, "That's okay, I met someone too."

Jimin became serious again. He had a feeling he knew who you were talking about and he really hoped he was wrong. "You aren't talking about Min Yoongi, are you?"  

Instantly, you scowled. His intrusive tone struck some sort of chord and you suddenly didn't want to talk about it anymore.  

"So what if it is? There's nothing wrong with him."

Jimin sighed, running his fingers through his hair. His gaze ran the course of the hallway before turning to yours, "I never said there was. I've just... I've just heard stuff about him."  

Of course. Who hadn't heard anything about Yoongi or his friends? You understood why Jimin was concerned and it's not like it hadn't crossed your mind that maybe the reason Yoongi was all nice and flirty today because he wanted to get into your pants, but over the past few weeks of you spending time with him and getting to know him better, you couldn't see him doing that to you.  

"Yeah? Well so have I. But I know him and he wouldn't do that." Jimin sighed again and you could tell he was completely not okay with this but you really didn't care. You could trust Yoongi. Or maybe you were just being naïve.

"Okay, I believe you. Let's have fun tonight. Okay?" He smiled and you mimicked him, fully agreeing to let loose tonight.

Tutoring went by without a hitch. Maybe even better than that considering how smiley and giddy Yoongi was the entire time. It was refreshing and you found yourself thinking that you wouldn't mind it if he kept acting like this.

Soon after, you went home and got ready nearly an hour early before the party even started which meant that you still had two hours to kill before you would go. Jimin had said something about how it would seem "uncool" if you showed up to a party on time so you'd have to be "fashionably late". You wanted to see Yoongi though. Would he be excited to see you? What will you say to him when you see him? Will he like what you're wearing? Questions and self-doubt ran through your mind that had you changing your outfit at least 5 different times and trying to decide if you wanted your hair up or down. Eventually you decided on a casual yet stylish outfit consisting of plain skinny jeans and a fitted black long sleeve shirt with your hair down.  

"Hopefully this will be okay. I don't want to seem like I'm trying too hard." You said out loud to yourself, fixing and kinks in your hair and straightening out any wrinkles on your outfit.  

"You look hot!" Jimin said from behind you. You could see him behind you in the reflection of your mirror. He styled his hair a bit differently, showcasing his forehead slightly and you could tell he put a lot of effort into his outfit. It was simple like yours but still made him look like a Greek God.

"Damn, Park! If you weren't my best friend, I'd be jumping your bones right now!" You teased. Jimin wrinkled his eyes together in a cute grin as he got shy, mumbling a "Oh, stop it" causing you to smile as well.

Jimin made himself at home atop of your bed as you finished the minor details. Nerves finally starting to get the best of you. Yes, you were nervous before but you were now only minutes away from meeting up with him. Outside of school. Outside of tutoring. He wanted to see you; apparently.

"Maybe we shouldn't go. I'm sure there's still showings of the movie!" You babbled, Jimin rolled his eyes.  

"We're going to the party. He asked you, right? He'll be happy to see you." It was almost as though Jimin was reading your mind as he knew all the right things to say. You nodded, agreeing with him that your anxiety was unnecessary. He wanted to see you. He wanted to see you. He wanted to see you.  

You replayed the words like a mantra until it stuck in your head. You could do it. It's just a party.

"Dude, you look so on edge, take a hit and chill out." Hoseok said, handing Yoongi the joint.  

Yoongi eyeballed the small cig between his fingers, debating on whether or not he should. Of course, he was nervous for you to show up and obviously this would mellow his mood, but he wanted to be sober when he saw you. The party had been going on for an hour and not once did he drink or smoke. There was also no sign of you.

"What are you waiting for someone?" Namjoon smiled, taking a drink from the beer bottle he had just grabbed from a cooler.  

"No, I'm just feeling a bit off. That's all." Yoongi said, handing Hoseok the blunt.

"Yeah, you're feeling off because you haven't smoked in who knows how long. What are you? A prude now?" Yoongi side eyed the blonde haired man, who only grinned in return.  

"Give me it." Yoongi demanded. Hoseok passed the joint once again and Yoongi took a deep, long puff from it, exhaling the cotton white smoke from his nostrils.  

"There, now you can calm down and wait for whoever you're waiting for." Namjoon laughed. Yoongi sighed, glancing at the time on his phone. An hour and a half already. Maybe you weren't coming.

Disappointment and discouragement coursed through his body. He should have known better than to get his hopes up for someone like you. Someone who's way to good to be seen with someone like him. Someone too perfect in every way to ever associate themselves with someone like Yoongi. A burn out. A loser. A fuckboy. He should have known better to think you really cared. The teacher probably offered you some amazing extra credit to help out the dumb kid, failing more than half of his classes and you wouldn't ever pass up that. No, because that's just how you were. And he decided that if you didn't consider him important, then he didn't consider you it either.  

"You know what? I'm not waiting for anyone." Yoongi hissed, snatching the beer from Namjoon's hands and downing the remains.  

"Whoa, I was drinking that?" He huffed. Namjoon was amused with his friends newfound behavior, however and he wanted to see how far he could push it.

"You want another?" He offered. Yoongi muttered a quick yeah, still finding himself watching the door, just in case you showed up. Not that he cared at this point, however.  

Namjoon laughed, handing his friend another drink, "Hey man, I think Nara has been eyeing you for a while. Maybe you should go see what she wants?" Yoongi's heart sank. Was he really going to give up this easily? He gulped down half of the bottle easily, his sight set on the girl.  

She looked up from her drink, smirking. Her eyes begging him over. He didn't know if it was the alcohol, or the joint but one way or another he ended up in front of her. Minimal words were spoken before her lips her on his. At first he hesitated, his thoughts completely consumed by you until her hand snaked down to his belt and grabbing on to it firmly. Then, he was lost.

"Jimin, we're so late!" You yelled, walking up the steps into the huge house. People littered the porch and front yard, some song that had to have been popular on the radio playing in the background.  

"I'm sorry! You know my car sucks." Jimin said, meeting you at the door. You didn't bother knocking considering the door was already open. It led to the main room that was flooded with people from your school and more than likely people who weren't. Your breath was almost taken away from the sheer amount of people that occupied the room.  

Naturally, your eyes scanned the vicinity, looking for the head of hair that you'd grown so used to seeing everyday. But you couldn't find it.  

"Jiminnie!" A voice called. You looked behind you to see some red haired girl throw herself at your best friend. It was clearly the girl he'd been excited to see before. His smile lit up as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pecking her lips gently.  

"Ah, (Y/N) this is Molly. Molly, (Y/N)." The red head stuck her dainty hand out, a bright smile shown on her face.  

"Ah, (Y/N)! I've heard so much about you. It's nice to meet you!" She gushed, her grip on Jimin loosening ever so slightly.

"It's nice to meet you too! You don't go to our school, do you?" She shook her head, "Nope! I go to East End High. On the other side of town." You nodded knowingly, "Oh, I see. Wait, how did you two meet then?" You asked, your eyebrows scrunching together.

"Oh! We met o-" Jimin's hand covered her mouth, cutting off her sentence before she could finish it. He laughed nervously, making any excuse to get you away from them.

"A-AH, I'll tell you about it later! Why don't you go find Yoongi! It has been like two hours since the party started, I bet he's dying to see you!" He croaked.  

At the mention of Yoongi, your previous curiosity faltered. Jimin was right, you should go and find him and explain your tardiness.  

"O-Okay then! It was nice meeting you, Molly. Stay safe, you kids." You laughed, turning around and walking into the sea of people. He had to be here somewhere.

The living room was held no sign of Min Yoongi and neither did the kitchen nor the backyard. 'Maybe he's not here?' You thought.

The cold air from the night calmed your nerves only momentarily before negative thoughts seeped their way into your brain.  

What if he didn't show up because it was all some sick joke? Your heartbeat sped up and sunk simultaneously, your cheeks heating up despite the chill air.  

That had to have been it. He was playing some cruel prank on you to make you seem like some idiot who thought he could ever be capable of having normal feelings for someone and boy, did you feel stupid.  

Jumping to conclusions, you felt the hot tears brimming in the corners of your eyes, but oh no, you wouldn't give Yoongi the satisfaction of making you cry in front of who knows how many people. So for now, you sucked it up and told yourself that you can cry the moment you entered your bedroom. Jimin would be fine with Molly. You could walk yourself home, it wasn't that far anyways.

"Hey! (Y/N)!" A chirpy voice rang from behind you. You didn't even have to look to know who it was. Seokjin.  

"Hello, Jin." You chided, facing the taller boy.  

"You here alone?" He asked, straightforward with his words. You nodded, not really paying attention.

"Why?" He pestered. Your face contorted as you looked up at him, debating on whether or not to tell him the truth.

"I was looking for someone. I was invited." His mouth opened as he let out a silent "Ah", nodding his head.  

"May I ask who?" You sighed. Boy, was this guy persistant.

"I guess. I was looking for Yoongi. But I don't think he's here, so I'm just going to leave." Seokjin raised his eyebrows at the mention of the troublemaker.  

"Ah, Min Yoongi? He's upstairs. I don't know why you'd be looking for him though, he's trouble! I'd stay away if I were you." You blocked the rest of Jin's words out after he slipped that Yoongi was upstairs.  

You quickly excused yourself, not bothering to give any excuses. You figured Jin would understand.  

Once inside, it took you a second to find your way back to the main living room which held the staircase to upstairs. Was he really up there? What was he doing? Maybe he was nervous too?

Nerves filled your gut again, but not the fluttery kind.

You stepped up the stairs, careful not to bump any party goer even though by the looks of it, they were too far gone to even care. Of course, the house had numerous rooms to choose from and you really didn't want to just barge in on people.

You knocked on a couple doors, most of them were empty surprisingly, that is until you reached the end of the hallway.

"This is so dumb." You whispered to yourself before knocking. You seriously felt idiotic to even be searching for him at this point. You could easily just go wait for him downstairs and he'd show up when he wanted to, if he wanted to. Which you really hoped he did.

Gently, you tapped your knuckles against the white painted door, waiting for anyone to respond from the other side. After a few seconds of nothing, you figured it was empty until a low, guttural groan passed through the door.  

You weren't dumb, but for some reason you knocked again. Even though you knew fully just what was happening on the inside.  

"G-Go away." The voice groaned. You would have stepped away, really, letting them have their privacy, but instead you grabbed the doorknob. You knew that voice and you sent a silent prayer that it wasn't who you thought it was.  

The doorknob twisted easily, and you pushed it open slowly. A sick feeling bubbled in your stomach and you knew you could back out. You didn't need to do this. You didn't even know it was for sure him. What if you were about to walk in on some completely random couple? You could never live that down.

But still, you opened the door. Even though, you wish you never would have.

There he was, as predicted, leaned against the sink, pants around his ankles as some girl kneeled before him.  

"Y-Yoongi." You hushed, wanting to disappear from the world right as the name slipped from your lips.  

His eyes darted open, irritatedly looking towards the culprit that was distracting him from the head he was receiving. But once he saw who it was, his eyes widened. His mouth parted as if he was trying to speak, trying to cover up what you thought was happening even though it was exactly what it looked like. There was no cover up for this.  

Yoongi quickly pushed Nara off of him and pulled his pants up, instantly becoming flaccid as he saw the look on your face.  

"(Y/N), this isn't what it looks like." His eyes closed, cursing himself for that being the first thing to come out of his mouth.  

You scoffed, the tears from earlier fresh as ever as you backed away from the door and leaving immediately.  

You didn't bother to listen to the voice calling for you, begging you to wait, screaming dozens of apologies. You didn't bother finding Jimin to let him know you were leaving and that you'd never go to another high school party again. There was no reason to.  

Yoongi caught up with you right as you reached the front door, latching himself onto your wrist, stopping you from going any further.

"Let me go." You sighed, your gaze falling to the floor.

"No," Yoongi sobbed, attempting to catch his breath, "Just talk to me for a minute."

"There's nothing for us to talk about?" You sniffled, wiping away the stray tear that fell and turning to face him, putting on your best poker face.

Yoongi's breath hitched, nearly choking as his heart fluttered and banged against his ribcage.  Why did he have to be so fucking stupid? Why couldn't he have waited?

"What happened back there with Nara was nothing. It meant nothing." He repeated, as if he were trying to convince you to give him some sort of chance. But that's not the type of girl you were. He fucked up, and you weren't going to let it slide. You had already made yourself look like an idiot once, and that was not happening again. Not with Min Yoongi.  

"Okay? Sorry I walked in on you. You didn't have to stop because of me. I should have listened to you when you said go away." Yoongi's eyebrows knitted together, confused as to why you were talking like this.

"What? No, I shouldn't have done it to begin with! I was fucking stupid and messed everything up."  

"Messed what up? Us? There isn't an 'Us', Yoongi. You're free to sleep with whoever you want," Your words were quick and jumbled and you just wanted to leave, "I'll see you Monday. Have a nice time here." You turned to move, but his grip on your wrist stayed put.

"(Y/N), I'm so so-"

"Yoongiiiii, why'd you push me off?" Nara cooed, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind him. Her eyes fell to his hand on your wrist and her eyebrows quirked, "Oh? Am I interrupting something?" She said wryly, a smirk coming to her lips as she pecked her way up Yoongi's jaw. He winced away from her touches, wanting absolutely nothing to do with her.

"No, I was just leaving." You snatched your wrist back, giving a final look to Yoongi before making your way home.

"Good, she's gone. Let's finish what we started upstairs, yeah?"  

"No, thanks." Yoongi peeled her off of himself. She was obviously flustered and he knew that she'd more than likely start up some dumb rumor about how he'd went soft on her or how he denied her or whatever. But he didn't care. She could spread all the rumors she wanted.  

Yoongi hated himself.  

"So, it's true then? You do? I'm going to take your silence as a 'yes'." Taehyung continued.

"Hey, man. Just stop." Hoseok chimed in, standing from the coffee table and putting a hand on his shoulder. Taehyung just shook it off, eyeing you as you stood in thought.

"Shocked, are you? We all know what he did to you those years ago but in his defense, who could deny Nara? You're so plain compared to her." He snarled. This brought you from your head, your eyes locking on to his. What the fuck is his problem? You thought.

"What's going on?" A voice questioned. It was Yoongi's.

Taehyung smirked, "Oh, my little kitten here would like her panties back but- Oh, no! I don't have them! Any idea where they could be?"

Yoongi's face reddened. He knew you'd think of his as some pervert if it came out that he had your underwear hiding in his pocket, and he knew you already thought lowly of him so, he'd lie to the death if he had to.

"No? You're the one who got them, right?" He convinced, hinting to his friend to keep it on the down low. But that wasn't going to happen.

"Are you that baked that you forgot I handed them over to you? Or... maybe it's that you don't want to seem like some creep for keeping your crushes underwear? Hm?" Yoongi squinted up the man grinning down to him. He wanted to knock him out.

"What the fuck is your problem, Tae?"

"Problem? I don't have one. She just needs her panties back. Give them to her."

Yoongi scoffed, “Listen. I already said I don’t have them.” His jaw clenched. He was seconds away from punching him square in the throat. There was a crowd now. Everyone gathered around the scene as if it were a movie unfolding before them. A few even chanted fight in the background.

This was not good. It was just underwear and you didn’t even care at this point who had them, you just wanted them back. Not that you could put them back on though, that’d be disgusting.

“Really? Then what are these?” Taehyung reached towards the pocket of Yoongi’s jacket to be met with nothing. Taehyung sputtered, his words fumbling in his mouth as he checked the other pocket as well, both turning up empty.

“Where are they?” He clenched, his teeth showing.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I told you. I don’t have them.” Yoongi smirked as he walked away, glancing at you only briefly. 

Your heart nearly stopped from the look on Yoongi’s face. Smug as all hell. What was all this mess? Him making your heart beat again after all these years. Taehyung taking your underwear, lying to you. This night was chaotic.

“H-He had them. I-I gave them to him, I have no idea where he’s hi-hiding them.” You were over this. Fuck your underwear.

“Oh, who cares at this point! They’re just underwear. Let’s go, Jimin.” He nodded, still shocked from the events that just took place. Jimin grabbed your arm, escorting you to the door, but you remembered there was still something you wanted to do. 

“Ah, wait, wait.” You said, unlatching your arm from Jimin’s and facing the asshole who ruined your night.

“Hey... Taehyung?” You asked sweetly. His gaze turned to you, irritation sketched upon his features.

“Wha-” Before he could even finish his sentence, your fist collided with his jaw. You threw your arm towards that handsome, devious face with as much might as you could muster, never hesitating or resisting in the swing. Your knuckles met his face with a loud smack, even cracking a few of your fingers, sending him flying backwards into the crowd that stood behind him. 

He looked up to you, his eyes wide as he clutched the side of his head, a small trickle of blood seeping out of his mouth. He wanted to cuss you out, he wanted to get even but most of all, he wanted to leave. He’d just been knocked down by a girl. A girl that he’d played only an hour before. This was his downfall. The end of Kim Taehyung. People took out their phones, snapping pictures and taking videos, whispering the words that would be on the tongue of the student body for the rest of the year. This was big, and everyone knew it.

“Man, I was hoping to knock you out. Oh well.” You winked, latching arms again with your best friend who stiffled back the urge to burst out laughing.

Even as you were exiting, Taehyung thought of ways to get you back, to do anything to show he was the boss but instead, Namjoon helped him to his feet, holding back laughter of his own. Once on his feet, he scanned the party, letting out a nervous chuckle and booking it to the exit, praying that people would forget this happened entirely. Even though he doubted it.

You said your goodbyes to Jimin, both of you agreeing that you’d had enough fun for the night and made your way to your bedroom. A hot shower beckoned you. You felt grimy from that asshole laying his dirty hands on you.

You gathered all your necessities; including a new pair of undies, and made your way to the bathroom. The steam from the shower quickly fogged up the mirror, relaxing you. Finally, you were in your own home, no distractions, no dumb boys who’d taken your underwear. You were content. You’d knocked Kim Taehyung off his feet today. You considered that a win.

Right as you grabbed the hem of your shirt, the shrill ring of the doorbell could be heard from downstairs. Of course, you thought, of course something would interrupt my celebratory party.

“Coming!” You yelled once the doorbell rang again, turning off the water to the shower.

The doorbell rang once again, an irritated sigh escaping from you as you opened the door, “How can I hel- Oh, you.” Your eyes blinked to the dark haired man before you, an expression of shock etched on his face that matched yours. 

“Yeah, me.” He hummed, a small smile playing on his lips in an attempt to settle any tension in the air. 

“What do you want?” you grumbled. Why couldn’t you just have the rest of the night to yourself?

“U-Uh, well, can we maybe, um,” He panicked, his words not coming to him.

“Spit it out, Yoongi.” 

“Can we talk?” You audibly groaned before shutting the door behind you, stepping out on to your front porch.

“Be quick.” He nodded, swallowing hard as he tried to find all the right things to say. 

“So,” he began, “how are you doing?” You looked at him incredulously. Was he seriously asking that right now?

“Fuck,” He hissed, “No, not how are you doing, ugh, I’m so stupid.” This was new. You were definitely not used to this Yoongi. The usually coiled and stable man was now coming undone, and for some reason it made you nervous. 

“Just, just calm down, Min. Take a breath.” Your choice of using his last name calmed him. It reminded him of old times. Back when you were close. 

His heartbeat rang in his ears. He was done being a baby. He was going to do something he’s been wanting to do for the past 2 years. Something he should have done. With high school being over in just a few weeks, he knew it was now or never. 

“(Y/N), about what happened at the party...”

“Oh, no worries. I don’t even care about the underwear anymore. Taehyung can do whatever with them, maybe even use them to hold his ice pack.” You laughed.

“No, not that party, wait- ice pack? What do you mean?” His eyebrows knitted together. His look of confusion sending your heart into over drive. The way his bottom lip stuck out slightly had your mind slipping into thoughts of what it’d feel like against yours. 

“Ah, I knocked him out. Well, not really. I wanted to. But, I punched him pretty hard. My hand still hurts.” Another giggle fled from you causing a smile to form on Yoongi.

“What, really?” You nodded, satisfied with yourself. 

“Huh,” he hummed to himself, “You’re kind of badass, aren’t you?” His comment had your ego flying, your own smugness finding you as you scoffed. 

“Yeah, it seems like I am.” This time Yoongi laughed and it was music to your ears. Boy, you missed him.

“So, is that all?” You asked. Yoongi shook his head frantically, “No, no! I still have stuff to say. Maybe it’ll be for nothing, but I can’t live with myself if I never do this.” Those nervous flutters reentered your stomach; the same ones from that party those years ago. Uh-oh. 

You urged him to continue. He took a deep breath, gazing up to your eyes that he loved so much. He felt like a loser. Who in their right mind stays smitten with someone like this for more than two years? Here went nothing.

“I want to explain myself. Not that it will make a difference, I don’t think. But, about the party. From two years ago.” Your heart sped up even more, if that was even possible. Why was he bringing this up?

“Yoongi, it was two years ago. It’s long forgotten and forgiven. Not that you had anything to be sorry for.” He sighed, obviously not satisfied with that.

“I haven’t forgotten. I haven’t forgiven myself. I was an idiot. An idiot who thought you weren’t going to come. An idiot who thought the best way to cope was to fuck it and smoke and drink and fucking kiss Nara which lead to that stupid shit in the bathroom and then you walked in and my whole world came crashing down and I was scared to lose what we had and we lost it. I wanted so much more with you, man, I still fucking do. I know that I fucked up, and I mean big time. I was going to confess that night. I was going to ask you out on a date and had every intention of making you my girlfriend. And I messed it up. I know I can’t change the past, even though I wish I could. But... I really like you. Like, a lot. And now I’m rambling and I’m making myself seem like an even bigger id-”

You didn’t know what came over you. You couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol considering how much you’d sobered up but before you knew it, your lips were on his and it felt right. It felt damn right. The kiss had been long overdue and there was nothing more that you wanted to do than kiss the shit out of him.

Yoongi was shocked at first, but once it settled and he realized what was happening and eased into it immediately.

His hands flung to your neck, almost needily. You giggled through the kiss, seeing a desperate Min Yoongi turns out to be one of your favorite things. However, he took the opportunity to snake his tongue into your mouth, not that you minded. One hand stayed put, practically glued to the your neck as the other one traveled to your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

Time seemed to pass in hours, just you and him at 1:00am on your front porch, kissing under the moonlight. It was like a movie, and you didn’t want it to end. But of course, all good things do. 

Yoongi was the first to break away, resting his forehead against yours as he tried to regain his breath and composure but you saw through his facade, and a gummy smile broke out. You smiled along with him. 

“Let’s do that again sometime.” He whispered, his blown out eyes peered into yours. His dark eyes felt like home and you couldn’t help yourself from pecking him again. 

“I meant at another time!” He played, batting your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.” You grinned, your hand finding his and entangling your fingers with him.

The two of you stood there, purely enjoying each other’s presence.

“So, where do we go from here?” He questioned, worry filling his voice. This could very well be a one time thing and maybe the kiss was merely a pity kiss because you felt bad he was confessing after all this time, making him look like a fool.

“Well, how about that date?” You offered. Yoongi’s eyes lit up, and you could have swore you saw tears, but before any could drop, he pulled you flush against his chest. His heartbeat racking against his chest at a speed of at least 100 mph.

“That sounds amazing. Oh, and (Y/N)?” You hummed in response, leaning back to look up into his eyes. 

“Do you want your underwear back? I have them.” 

AN: Finally out! I hope you all like it ;-; I’m almost tempted to make a follow up scenario to this because I really want to write a smut scene between these two and I just felt that it didn’t fit with where this one was going. So, expect that in the future lol. Leave me some feedback! <3

[sheepydraws]

And So They Lived (2/6)

Part 1

On Monday Odd still had a bandage on his cheek. Not because the scabs hurt, but because he had made up an outlandish story about standing up too fast after retrieving his armful of junk food, losing his balance, and smashing his face on the side of the vending machine. It was better to have everyone laughing then asking questions. 

“Do you think someone hit her?” Yumi said when they saw Sissi that morning, stalking across the quad to the science building. She was wearing huge, tan sunglasses with gold tinted lenses. They were perfectly coordinated with her camelskin coat and light brown calf high boots, unlike the enormous bruise on her cheek. It was quite a sight, dark purple in the center, radiating outward into overlapping shades of green and yellow. She looked like she had fallen face first into a plate of moussaka and not bothered to wipe it off.

“If they had we’d have heard about it.” Aelita said, “She would have gone straight to her father and had them expelled.” 

Ulrich shrugged. “Maybe she leaned into the mirror to kiss herself and slipped.”

“Wouldn’t she have covered it up if she got it doing something stupid?” Jeremie said. “She’s been wearing makeup since the sixth grade.”

“Sixth?” Odd asked idly.

“I think so. Ulrich, when was the first time she got lipgloss on your face?”

Ulrich gave Jeremie a shove, and they laughed, remembering how sometimes Sissi would throw her arms around Ulrich and leave a shiny smear on his cheek, or mascara smudges on his temple. Of course, Sissi wouldn’t remember that since it was usually after he had saved her life. 

“Odd?” Yumi said, snapping him out of his thoughts. “You okay?”

“I just don’t think we should kick a dog while it’s down.” 

There was laughter again, and Odd heard what he had said. He opened his mouth, flustered, wanting to correct them, but he decided not to. He had gotten the phrases mixed up. He wasn’t sure where his head was these days. He was thinking of ‘Let sleeping dogs lie’. Something he desperately needed to learn before he wound up at Sissi’s room again, holding a movie and candy.

Oops.

He knocked. 

“Who is it?”

“I wanted to apologize.”

Silence. 

Silence was good, Odd told himself, it meant she was thinking. 

There was the sound of a chair being pushed back and she appeared at the door. 

“Oh.” She said, looking at the gifts in his hands. “You’re serious.”

“Yeah. I didn’t know what kind of stuff you liked, so I just got these.” He held out the glass canister full of chocolate candies. They shined like pearls, or at least plastic beads. They were just fancy m&ms, but he had a feeling she might appreciate them. Also, going into town had given him an excuse to leave Yumi and Ulrich alone, so now they owed him a little. 

“I’ve had them before.” Sissi said as she took them. “They’re good.”

“And this.” He handed her the dvd case.

She studied it for a moment. “Eraserhead?”

“It’s a classic.”

“Kind of looks like a horror.”

“It’s more surrealist, really.” Odd was about to explain the work’s history, but her face was already screwed up. 

“Definitely a horror, then.”

“Only if you find unplanned pregnancy horrific.”

They stood there for a moment, listening to the deafening silence that comes after a terrible joke. Odd shifted from foot to foot. He had been expecting her to say something like ‘apology accepted’ so that he could leave and things could go back to normal between them. 

“You have to watch it with me.”

Odd’s train of thought came to a screeching halt. 

“And if it is a horror, then I get to punch you or something.”

Odd touched his cheek. “I think we’re already fair on that account.”

Sissi rattled the candies inside their glass box. “I said, ‘or something’. We’ll decide once I tell you that this is a horror movie.”

Once they were in her room Sissi took her laptop off her bed and set it on the floor, so that she could sit with her back against her bed. Odd looked around as she set up the movie. He had been in here a few times over the years, but he was usually snooping through her things or trying to save her from being murdered by her own curling iron, so he never really remembered the decor aside from the scent of a million different beauty products and an overwhelming sense of pink.

Odd had thought pink was something you grew out of, but Sissi stuck with it as stubbornly as her nickname. It wasn’t the monotone of a baby girl’s room, but almost everything had a pink accent. The handles on her desk, the trim of her dresser, the tassels on the drawstring of her blinds. Her comforter was a pale shade, her pillow cases hot, along with a few throw pillows ranging from red to almost orange. They could have sat on the bed instead of the floor, come to think of it, but then they’d be sitting on her bed together. Too weird.

As though voluntarily watching a movie with her wasn’t weird enough. 

Sissi hit play and muscled the lid off the candy. The smell of chocolate wafted towards them and Sissi smiled.

“You can have some if you want.” She said, holding them out to him.

“Thanks.” He took a few and popped them into his mouth. She watched him carefully. “They aren’t poisoned, y’know.” He said through his mouthful of chocolate.

“Actually I was thinking maybe you swapped them out with beads.”

“Yeah, poison’s a little extreme.”

Sissi frowned at him and turned to the movie.

“Did I miss something important just now?” She said, as a man The Man in the Machine worked his was across the screen. “What the fuck is going on?”

Odd bit back a smile. “Just go with it.”

To Sissi’s credit, she really tried. She was green by the man-made chicken scene, but she just clutched the candy container and soldiered on. It was when the baby was revealed that she lost it.

“No, no, nononononono.” She said, bashing the eject button. “Jesus christ, no. Oh god.” She shuddered. “Why does surrealism always have to be disgusting? Why can’t it be happy and fun and weird?”

“Oh, come on,” Odd had been kind of hoping she would make it through the whole thing. That or actually throw up. “It’s not that bad.”

Her look of horror was almost better than seeing her vomit. 

“You are a sick, sick man Odd Della Robbia.” She said as she pulled the dvd from her computer and put it back in its case, snapping it shut like she wanted to snap the disk instead.

“Okay, you won. Guess I better be going.” Odd started to stand, but Sissi grabbed him by the sleeve and yanked him back down.

“Oh no you aren’t. You owe me.” 

Odd couldn’t stop from wincing. “You know what you want?”

“Yup.” Sissi threw open her dresser and ran her finger down a stack of dvds. Odd vaguely remembered seeing them before, but the pile had been a lot smaller then. She selected something, twirled on her heel, and plopped back down next to him.

“You have to watch something I want to watch.” She said, holding up the dvd case. “Have you ever seen, When Harry Met Sally?”

“No.”

“I figured.” She slid the dvd in and tapped her computer as it hummed and whirred.

“What’s it about?”

“Two people.”

Odd laughed. “Oh god, it’s a chick flick, isn’t it?”

Sissi looked him right in the eye, “That’s right. It’s in color, and it’s happy and funny, and two people fall in love. It doesn’t even make you want to vomit.”

Odd bit his tongue. She was so serious. It was like he called her mother a whore, and her response was that yes, she was, and she made very good money. Her expression dared him to make a comeback. It said that she would crush him if he did.

Odd fidgeted against the bed and picked up a handful of candy, rolling the little balls in his palm as a couple appeared on screen, talking about how they met. It occurred to him that he wouldn’t be able to cut this short by saying the movie sickened him. No way he could convince Sissi that drivel made him physically ill. At least he had the chocolate to comfort him. 

And then something bizarre happened. The stupid little 90’s rom-com, it was…Good. Odd found himself laughing. He hadn’t even realized that he was enjoying himself until he looked at Sissi and saw that she was watching him instead of the movie. And she was smiling again.  

It wasn’t a song that stuck in Odd’s head that night as he tried to sleep, it was that smile. He traced the scratches on his cheek, trying to conjure the image of the girl who had inflicted them. They throbbed after being stretched out from all the laughing, but Sissi’s bruise must have ached to the bone just from smiling at him. 

It took Odd a moment to remember how bruises like that felt. Jeremie still had electrical burns on his arms from XANA’s last effort to stop them, but all the injuries Odd had sustained that day were well healed. The only marks left was puckered, dusky-pink skin that he knew would take ages to disappear. They would be there long after he forgot the pain of shrapnel slicing into him, or an elevator door slamming shut on his leg. 

Odd’s fingers were locked around the edges of his blanket. He forced himself to relax them. His mind drifted back to the color of Sissi’s sheets. He closed his eyes and tried to remember how many throw pillows she had and what color each one was. It was better than staring into the dark seeing the burn scar that now curled down the side of Aelita’s face, framing her left eye. His chest tight and his breath short, all he could think too close too close tooclose

He woke panting, but he slept through the night.

A/N: Don't look up Eraserhead, it's...the climax is a guy cutting the swaddling cloth off his child to find out it doesn't have any skin. And the rest ain't a picnic. Do not go near it unless you know you can handle stuff like that.

When Harry Met Sally, though, is often called one of the best rom-coms. It's basically just two people, wandering around and having snarky conversations in between trying to live their lives, and probably why people like it because it doesn't require them to believe in fate and perfect timing the way some movies do. It's all about the characters, which is the core of romance. Also, it's hella funny.

Part 3

[kyuu-rereads-umineko]

Ep6, Chapter 11

I forget what happens in this chapter exactly, beyond the next part of the love trial. Let’s get right into it!

On that note, I’m officially behind the Rokkenjima Tea Party, which is great, because I’d still love to join in on the Ep7 podcast. I’d love to just speed through the rest of Ep6 so I can catch up, but we’ll just have to see how things go, I guess. What I’ll probably end up doing is reading through the rest of Ep6 on my own, then reading Ep7 for the podcast, taking notes on things to revisit for this blog later for both Episodes. 

We open on Rosa, alone in the parlour, relaxing during a break in the family conference.

“...A pleasant silence. Now that no one was in sight, Rosa’s heart finally awoke.” Huh, that’s an interesting line. I’d forgotten about it.

The narrative notes that the other siblings would treat her almost like an impartial mediator in their conferences, and she reflects on having to use that status to steer the conversation in the direction she wants. All the political jockeying the siblings end up getting into with each other must be exhausting...

“That [debt] was supposed to be my great commitment, a burden I bore to help support ‘that man’s’ business. [...] If I can pay off my debt... will he call me again?” I forget, do we ever get details about Maria’s father and Rosa’s debt anywhere else? I mean, I’m pretty sure it’s touched on in Ep1, with the whole ALL THE SIBLINGS WANT A LOT OF MONEY RIGHT NOW thing, but other than that...

And then Rosa thinks, “even if you do contact me again after all this time... I’ll be the one to refuse. ...But still... you are Maria’s father, aren’t you? Please come and see her... if only just once...”

That first part in particular is quite interesting. I feel like there’s a parallel to be drawn there, between Rosa and Yasu (what with the latter “moving on” from Battler, only to be devastated when he actually returns), but.

(alternatively i feel like i’ve been doing a shit job with the whole analysis thing and am looking for the tiniest thing to latch onto i’m not really sure)

Rosa’s thoughts are interrupted by Kanon, who... arrived silently without her noticing. lol

Aaaand as usual for this episode, Kanon is extremely forward. “The reason you are currently in pain is because of love, Rosa-sama. ...Am I wrong?”

Interesting - Kanon shows explicit knowledge of Rosa’s financial situation. She brushes it off as him overhearing Krauss from the hallway earlier...

...and the narrative immediately josses that explanation. “Krauss had seen through to the fact that Rosa was bearing a massive debt because she had become a co-signer on a loan. However, he hadn’t said that her partner had been Maria’s father... Why... did Kanon know so much...?”

(Note: this thought is split across a period of like, two weeks, because I just wasn’t in the mood to write anything, so apologies in advance if it’s incoherent) The narrative drawing attention to Kanon like this reminds me of something we talked about a bit on the Rokkenjima Discord server - Namely, the idea that Ikuko wrote Episode 5, while Tohya/Battler wrote Episode 6. It’s true that the two of them together are what makes Tohya Hachijo, but even then, Ep5 and 6 are drastically different in terms of tone. Episode 5 is probably the most ruthless depiction of Yasu we ever see, whereas she doesn’t even seem to be planning a murder in Ep6. Ep5 also presents Erika as pretty unapologetically terrible, while Ep6 has its tidbit with her backstory to humanize her (even if she goes way off the deep end later, but, y’know).

In terms of timeline, I imagine it’d be something like... Between Ep4 and 5, Tohya has his seizure and is hospitalized for a while. During that period, Ikuko writes Ep5 on her own, much to his chagrin (this is also why, on a meta-level, Battler is boycotting most of the 5th game - it’s symbolic for Tohya’s hospitalization). Once he recovers, Tohya starts writing Ep6 on his own, making a point of portraying everyone more lovingly (relatively speaking, of course) than Ikuko had.

Bringing this back to Kanon - in the question arcs - Ep1 and 2 in particular - there’s a pretty strong focus on him as being suspicious. His death is the only blatant fantasy scene in Ep1, and he’s constantly fingered as the culprit in Ep2. In comparison, Ep5 really does brush over him and Shannon almost entirely. Assuming Ikuko wrote Ep5, as a sort of “pure mystery” type thing (i.e. the culprit is a cold-blooded killer intent on framing Natsuhi), Tohya’s Ep6 is, in a way, a sort of “return to basics.” Yasu’s romantic relations take centre stage again, and no one is portrayed as an irredeemable monster (well, except maybe Kyrie, and Erika once the murders start, but).

Anyway, Rosa mentions that she’d considered helping Maria’s father out financially her “responsibility as his future wife.” Which, of course... didn’t happen. “So afterwards... Rosa was always alone. And Maria... never had a father.”

“Maria, who should have been a symbol of their union, just kept growing, almost like a living hourglass measuring the length of the hell Rosa had crawled through...” Hmm. Pretty evocative of Kyrie’s talk to Jessica last chapter. Between this and their daughters, I wonder if there are more parallels between Kyrie and Rosa that we’re meant to see...

Rosa mentions trying to forget Maria’s father several times, but also says, “If I can manage to pay everything off, it’ll mean that I’ve passed the trial of love that he gave me.” 

She’s using a bit of her own magic to keep herself going here, huh... “If she was able to succeed in paying back the loan... he might acknowledge her usefulness as a wife...”

Oooh, I’d forgotten this. The narrative mentions that Rosa viewing the loan as a “trial” “might have been her blindness due to love.” Again, we’re getting the message that love isn’t always necessarily a force for good.

And Kanon wonders out loud if this is the “hell” Kyrie was talking about, lol. Rosa agrees, “though [she’s] not sure what [he’s] talking about.”

“And how can that be put to an end...?” Ouch. Rosa replies, “Who knows? If anyone did... no one would ever be crushed by the disease of love.” 

“That disease is a serious one. ...It sometimes eats into a person for their entire life, spreading to and hurting the people closest to them... That disease was torturing her now as much as it ever had...” And there it is. The heart of many of Yasu’s troubles, and the heart of the story itself.

Erika was right a few chapters ago - the counterpoint to “without love, it cannot be seen,” is that love will end up blinding you to things as well. Vilifying someone and deifying them are both just as dangerous, and just as naive - in doing so, you’re missing “half of the story,” as it were.

At any rate, Rosa expresses... admiration, I guess, for Kyrie and her perseverance. She comments that she’s only waited half of Kyrie’s 18 years, and Kanon asks if she thinks a miracle will happen sometime in the next nine. She responds with, “If I doubt that, it’s all over.”

“In a sense, I’m a ghost. ...I’m already dead. I’m just living on without noticing.”

“...A ghost waiting for eternity for a person who will never come...” The parallel’s pretty obvious here, isn’t it? Rosa finishes with, “I wish someone would just kill me.” are you sure about that

Zepar and Furfur show up, commenting that “losing and dying” isn’t the frightening part - it’s being unable to win, but unable to die, too. Elder adds, “They say the most torturous toxin for humans is made from rotting love.” Bits like this really make my heart ache, because of how vividly they paint Yasu’s suffering.

Elder says something pretty revealing here - when Chick expresses understanding that she needs to either “kill that seed [of love for Battler] or make it bud,” Elder says that the poison of rotting love “is the most fearsome torture in the world, even for us thousand year old witches.”

Back on the board, Kanon kills Rosa quick and painlessly. “Sleep well, Rosa-sama... Your hell... has ended.” He even goes on to cover her with a blanket, to make it look as though she’s just sleeping. Again, Ep6 really makes a point of portraying the family and servants in a much more positive light - this is the same Kanon who’d normally be decrying Rosa as a terrible human being for how she treats Maria, after all.

“Those demons had not exaggerated when calling this trial a battle of love. It was at least accurate on this cruel but unassailable fact: that those who have their love shattered meet with death...”

As Kanon declares his part to be over, Maria arrives and attacks him, screaming bloody murder. “In MARIA’s eyes, though Rosa was the black witch... she was also the vessel of the mother she couldn’t help but love. Her anger at having that stolen from her was near madness.”

Sakutarou appears, preventing Kanon from retaliating, but before Maria can kill him, Shannon appears, declaring Maria as her target for the trial. She uses her barrier to crush Maria and Sakutarou against the wall, since she’s technically not targeting them that way. lol technicalities

Instead of crying, Maria accepts her death, realizing that the parlour would be a closed room. “This might be just perfect for that wannabe detective who’s trying to deny Beato’s magic.” I can’t help feeling that her nonchalance here is meant as a pretty big hint as to what actually happens on the board before Erika gets involved...

Zepar and Furfur acknowledge Shannon and Kanon’s efforts as “truly splendid,” then notice that Chick’s disappeared - she’s off picking a target of her own: Natsuhi.

In her own room, Natsuhi looks into her spirit mirror (that we last saw in Ep2, as I recall, so it’s been a while) and laments her inability to support Krauss by being at his side. 

“It’s tough, isn’t it... waiting for the sake of love...”

And then Chick arrives. “Because of your love for your husband, you couldn’t bear to be made to care for an unfamiliar child.”

It’s funny and sadly ironic - Chick says she isn’t holding Natsuhi’s sin of 19 years ago against her, but the narrative goes on to mention that she does view Natsuhi as an “enemy” because of Battler’s blue truth from the end of Ep5. If only she knew...

(though if she did then I suppose this scene wouldn’t even be happening like this in the first place so)

“...Please do not hold it against me when I kill you for the sake of my love.”

As she goes to strangle Natsuhi, though, the spirit mirror falls to the ground, and she glances at it... which hurts her and breaks her concentration, much as it would against Elder. Both Elder and Chick express surprise over the fact that the spirit mirror has an effect on her, seeing as spiderwebs don’t. I’d forgotten that we actually get clued into  the fact that “Beatrice’s” weakness to mirrors isn’t strictly related to her “being a witch” here.

Natsuhi realizes immediately that the mirror will protect her, and uses it to corner Chick.

“If I lose here... I’ll be the only one... to fail this trial... Just like George-san and Shannon-san... Jessica-san and Kanon-san... I also want Battler-san to acknowledge me... and treasure me...”

Zepar and Furfur tell Chick to “believe,” because “the miracle of love will surely occur.” With that, she realizes that she’s in love with Battler. “I want him to notice me. And I want him to acknowledge and accept my feelings...”

“I was born because I love Battler-san... and I want him to love me back...”

With that, she steels her resolve. “I cannot lose here...! After all... I was born for Battler-san’s sake...!!” And then, in stake form, Lucifer flies into the room, knocking the mirror out of Natsuhi’s hand and breaking it. GO LUCIFER

Chick moves to choke Natsuhi again, and Natsuhi reaches for the door to unlock it. “A closed room is one of the definitions that makes a witch. Just unlocking the door made the anti-magic toxin strengthen a little. Since Beato was at her limit even within a closed room, if Natsuhi undid that lock... Beato’s power would weaken immediately, and Natsuhi would surely escape into the hallway.”

She gets closer and closer to the lock - “The power of the living to live is fundamentally stronger than the power of magic” - but before she can reach it, Battler instructs Lucifer to finish things, staking Natsuhi in the forehead.

“Hey, Zepar! Does this count? Beatrice didn’t complete the trial by her strength alone, right?!” theatrics etc. etc., and the two say in unison, “A pair in love are as one! This doesn’t count as help from outside!”

Battler appears, gently chastising Chick for scaring the hell out of him by almost getting herself killed, lol. Chick apologizes for not staying in her room...

...and Battler apologizes for being so harsh to her. When she slips and calls him Father again, he grins and says, “It’s okay. Call me whatever you like.”

“True, the old you may have called me just ‘Battler’. ...At first, I might have tried to force you to speak to me that way. ...However, that would be pointless. You are Beato... but you’re yourself. You can call me whatever you want.”

She calls him Battler-san again, and he quips, “Can’t say being called Father is really my thing.” ew

“...Now, she was allowed to call Battler by his name. If you just looked into her eyes... there would be no need to describe just how happy this made her feel...”

He muses a bit on the “strange game” that’s started, then throws his hat in the ring... and mentions that he’s already picked his sacrifice. lol game master

“The resolve of all six [of the lovers] is the real deal! Let us test them further in the next trial!” With that, they disappear, leaving Chick and Battler some time to talk one-on-one.

Back in “1998,” Ikuko asks Ange what she thinks of the story so far. this is on chapter 11 out of 18 ffs it’s almost as bad as ep1

Ange is pretty clearly upset that she got so immersed in the forgery, lol. She goes on to say, “Normally, I’d try to skip over all the love and illusions and call them unnecessary, useless scenes for the mystery... but Okonogi-san disagreed with that way of thinking. He thought that, by looking at things without love that way, the truth could never be reached.” are we getting the message yet readers

“After all, she’s used up all these pages talking about love and trials. ...In other words, those are the themes and keywords of this tale.”

And Ikuko says, “And there are many who claim that all words not written in red ink are not worth reading. It is an honour, child of man, that you have read the black letters as well.” loool

“Stories are written because the writer has something they want to communicate. And some writers feel that it’s unrefined to lay everything out too directly.” meta-commentary etc. etc., but I feel like there’s another point to be made here - that some writers, like Yasu, basically can’t lay things out directly, whether it’s due to circumstances, the nature of what they want to say, or not having a voice of their own to speak up with (or in Yasu’s case, all three).

“...All of this about how you’ll never reach the truth without love has shown up many times in the works before this one. This new work makes that even more striking. ...It means that that is the one thing the writer wanted to tell the most... the thing that they want us to think about the most.”

Ange realizes that, even when Beato first started appearing on the board, way back in Ep2, love was a constant theme. Her first meeting with Shannon was all about love.

“Then, in the tale right before this one, where Beato had become like a doll, the scenes shown made it seem almost as though Battler and Beato accepted each other as rivals... or possibly something more.”

Ange challenges that Ikuko’s writing is talking about love from her own viewpoint, which she acknowledges. “That is what I wanted to tell. And it is my own sort of ‘answer’.” Ange replies pretty unhappily.

“Foolish child of man. ...After reading all of this, do you still not understand?”

Though Ange is pretty unhappy with how things are going, she does realize something - Ikuko’s writing really does have “the same presence, the same scent” as the genuine message bottles. “The author is certainly different. However, because it reached the real truth, it had the same scent...”

“If one has reached Beatrice’s truth, they can create a new tale, whoever they are. ...With this new manuscript, I’m sure some other than myself will appear and reach the truth. Those people will be qualified to create new tales of their own.” I’d forgotten that Ikuko makes this point - that the more “Endless Witches” there are who write tales of Rokkenjima, the more people will reach the truth.

“...When that happens, the very first Endless Witch, Beatrice, will finally be rewarded for writing such long letters, packing them in bottles, and throwing them into the sea...”

Ange reluctantly admits that Ikuko’s tale somehow rings true. Ikuko replies, “Very well, child of man. Perhaps, as the final survivor of the Ushiromiya family, it was fated that you would find the truth and become an Endless Witch. ...I exist only as a guidepost to awaken you as the true successor. ...ANGE-Beatrice.”

“...I don’t know the truth even after the two message bottles Beatrice left behind... and I’ve read several tales with hints afterwards. So... these hints are challenges, provoking me to think.” Ikuko agrees.

“Perfect. ...I’ll find this truth you say you’ve reached. ...It’s a good thing I came here. Let the truth I see and the truth you see overlap. Just as you see things with a single eye, so do I. Now that I’ve found you, I can finally look at the truth with both eyes.”

Back in the Meta-World, Erika yawns, complaining about things taking so long again. for once i am in complete agreement. Battler makes a jab at her for sleeping through things, lol.

“As you wish, let’s begin. ...First off, the first twilight.”