#and 'it' is what my brain came up with when I saw xy going through all those sweets | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

bad boy good thing xiv.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 5, 690

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

hello!!!! we’re here at fourteen chapters omg ✨✨when i first started this series it was mostly self-indulgent and now there are people who actually enjoy reading it??🥺 it almost doesn’t seem real T.T

thank you so much for the love and support!!! just so I don't give too much spoilers for this chap - I apologise to my fellow geminis for the potential slander 🤣 this is more of a self-drag lmaooo

anyway, I hope you enjoy this chap!!!

“Ah. I’m getting allergies.” Yena sniffs, scrunching her nose.

You furrow your brows in concern, “Are you okay? Do you need any medicine?”

“It’s just the seasonal changes,” She brushes you off.

You nod in understanding, “I get it. My mom has horrible reactions towards pollen so—”

“I’m not allergic to flowers.” She blinks.

“Then what—?”

“It’s Gemini season. It’s like—literally the worst time of the year.” She blinks.

You gawk at her, taking a whole ten seconds to process her serious tone when she doesn’t waver under your scrutiny.

“I’m a Gemini,” You inform her slowly.

“I mean …” She shrugs all as you scowl at her, opting to throw the closest object you had, which was your favourite pen so you decide against it; simply shooting her the meanest glare you could possibly muster.

“Look, it’s not you,” She sighs, and you’re half-expecting her to finish with an it’s me to make you scoff, “It’s me.” And there you go. “I mean, it’s Gemini’s in general because they’re two-faced bitches who have the worst emotional attachment issues. Like they’re literally what the opposite of glue is. And they’re so over-analytical. How is it like psychoanalysing every person you meet only to hurt your own feelings and sulk about it?”

You blink.

“I mean it’s not you but if the shoe fits.” She says casually, plopping a grape into her mouth that you’re tempted to slap away.

“You’re so mean!” You pout indignantly.

She cackles, throwing her head back as you continue to sulk. You weren’t that bad. You just … you were risk-averse! You liked having the freedom to observe everyone and anyone and package them into tiny compartments in your head so you could understand them better. You weren’t … that Gemini.

“You’re so cute,” She coos pinching your cheeks. “No wonder Beef One and Beef Two like you so much.” She teases.

Your first reaction is to blush because you know who exactly she’s talking about, but you have more pressing matters, like—

“You have nicknames for them?” You ask, baffled.

“Hey, I wasn’t friends with many girls in high school. Don’t girls usually have nicknames for their crushes?” She says through a pout.

You stay expressionless as you try to gauge the level of seriousness you can extract from her tone.

You realise she’s dead serious.

“Yeah, but we’re in college,” You argue, scrunching your nose, “And sides’, it’s not like they’re strangers. We know them.”

She rolls her eyes, waving you off like you were the inconvenience here. Then she leans forward, her eyes twinkling as she takes a complete one-eighty that you try to adjust to.

“So … you Gemini hoe, what’s your plans?” She nudges you.

You raise a brow, “Did you just call me a—?”

“Plans, ___. Stay on track.” She scolds.

You sigh, still fond but you pretend to be annoyed. You really couldn’t get annoyed with Yena. After all, the more time you spend with her the more you realise how much life sucked before you had her in your life. You spent each moment learning more about her quirks and habits, her choice of words that made you giggle or laugh until you were crying.

And you realise that this is how she loves, a little rough but welcomed nonetheless.

“If you’re talking about my birthday then … not much. I’m probably stuck doing admin work for the college’s charity programme.” You shrug, stabbing a fork into your soiled salad.

Yena gapes at you, “Not much—excuse me? It’s your birthday! You’re turning twenty-five!”

You look at her dryly, “I’ve been twenty-five since the year—”

She groans, “That’s not the same! You’re like—officially twenty-five. You’re literally hitting the mark for a quarter-life crisis. Isn’t that something to celebrate?”

“Me going through an existential crisis at the end of my degree is not how I want to celebrate my birthday but okay,” You blink.

She rolls her eyes at your realism.

“That’s not the point. Point is, this is our first birthday together and I want it to be special.” She points out.

You snort, “What? Are we doubling my birthday as our monthsary or something?”

She shoves you with a brute force that has you snickering but she continues to pester you anyway.

“You’re so dumb. So smart, but so dumb,” She shakes her head, “You’re always studying or doing some form of work that requires the use of more than one brain cell. You deserve a break. Besides, you have two dudes to pick from on how you’d like to be wined and dined and—”

“Yena!” You whine.

“—it’ll be like an episode of the Bachelorette! But just with a super cool and smart best friend that’ll make the decision for you. It’s not your birthday. It’s ours.” She emphasises towards the end.

You stare at her for a long second, before the two of you are bursting into laughter at the absurdity of her statement.

It was nice, just to laugh about things without having your heart feel so heavy. Even if it was a mild distraction, it was still wholly pleasant to be able to just talk about mindless things that didn’t require much mental gymnastics to navigate the conversation with.

“What are the two of you laughing about?” Taehyung and Jimin arrive at impeccable timing, sliding into the booth with their own packaged food. It’s very college-student-esque, a cute paper (because no plastic) container filled with an array of assortments.

“None of your XY chromosomes business.” Yena retorts.

Jimin blinks, “You are literally so hostile.”

“Then don’t give me a reason to be.” She sticks her tongue out petulantly.

You laugh, nudging her with your shoulder, “Be nice.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes but manages to keep a civil smile on his face. Always the more rational one between the two.

“Anyway, Yena definitely isn’t going to answer me so, what’s up?” He turns to look at you.

You roll your eyes but it’s half-hearted, “She wants to celebrate my birthday like we’re on the Bachelorette.”

“Like you’re on the Bachelorette.” She corrects.

“Oh my God, our baby’s turning twenty-five!” Jimin coos at the reminder, pinching your cheeks as he coddles you. You scowl and weakly shove him away, even if you preen under the attention.

“I’m literally older than the both of you.” You huff.

Yena blinks, “There’s no way I’m the oldest person at this table.”

Taehyung furrows his brows, “Wait—how old are you?”

She sends him a scathing glare that has his arms raised up in defence.

“Jeez, okay. Don’t answer.”

“I’m going to answer because you told me not to.” She clips. “I’m twenty-seven.”

Jimin blinks, “No wonder you and Yoongi hyung are so alike.”

You almost miss it, but as Yena so eloquently pointed out, you were a sucker for psychoanalysing people (even if you didn’t want to admit it yet) that you notice the way she flushes ever so slightly as she scoffs.

“Him? How dare you compare me to that sorry excuse of a—!”

“Okay, everyone is beneath you. I’m sorry your highness.” Jimin rolls his eyes.

You make a note to ask her about it because you know for a fact that Yoongi ‘complains’ about Yena every hour he can. It’s almost as if he can’t go long enough without mentioning her.

You smile to yourself as you duck your head.

“Exactly,” She flips her hair over her shoulders before turning to face you. “Anyway, back to you—our baby.”

Taehyung nods, “Exactly, the baby.”

You scrunch your nose, “Don’t coddle me.”

He pats your head before cooing at you like he would to an actual baby, “But you’re just so cute. You’re too good for this shitty world. Too good for the likes of mere mortals like us.”

“Not me.” Yena blinks before gesturing to their bodies, “You.”

Jimin sticks his tongue out in retaliation as you sigh at their never-ending bickering.

Somehow … it felt right. You think it most of the times but you don’t know any other way to describe how it feels to be back with your friends, laughing, bickering and just appreciating their presence.

When you and Jungkook had your issues, it was like you made the conscious choice to avoid everyone and anyone as much as you could, and any interaction you had during that period was purely out of coincidences and not the intention. You remember actively avoiding Jimin and Taehyung because it felt too draining to pretend like you didn’t have a battle in your head. Even studying or spending time with Namjoon made you feel guilty, the thought of Jungkook lingering in your mind. Yena was there through it all, but even then you saw her as much as you did with any of your classmates you so happened to share a class with.

In fact, if it weren’t for Yena you’d probably have zero social interactions as a whole because she just knew. She somehow picked up on your internal conflicts but never outwardly shamed you or confronted you about it. All she did was be there for you, offering you her presence and you were grateful.

So, yeah. Things were better, but your heart was still at its core—confused. Your feelings for Jungkook didn’t disappear overnight and you knew that you were the one that asked for space.

You forgave him … you did, honestly. But there are things you can’t forget, and those are the things that you wished you could. The words he said in principle, was outright shitty. But the fact that it came from him only poked at every single one of your insecurities that you developed over the years.

You knew it wasn’t healthy to compare yourself to other women when they were living vastly different lives than you were, but it’s proven difficult when you’re forced to see these type of women every day, at college, in your community work or on the media.

Believing Jungkook’s apparent feelings for you was harder because, well. Jungkook was Jungkook. He wasn’t just another guy, and despite his shortcomings, he had more merits than he’d let on and you knew that people saw that. It was also the fact that Jungkook had a charm that drew all types of people in. He was soft-spoken but passionate, and people loved a quiet achiever.

You … knew about the women. Way before Jennie and way before the thing between the two of you happened. Jimin and Taehyung would always update you about the new fling or girl he had tied to his hip just as he was in his final year in high school. You had to force a smile every single time they’d snicker and joke about how your Jungkook suddenly became a man overnight.

And you noticed the trend with the women he liked. They were … captivating. Beautiful wasn’t even enough to describe them because they looked like they could carry the world on their shoulders and spark immense change with just the movement of their lips. They were confident and charismatic, outgoing and just the right amount of flirty. You were anything but.

It sucked, majorly, because you spent years agonising over the fact that you were already coined with the older sister title in the group because of the way you acted—just a little more uptight than the average woman your age. You were quiet but loud in the right company; you didn’t like crowds, socialising or mingling around with people you didn’t know and based on your observations it seemed like that was the only thing that Jungkook’s been doing ever since he made it to senior year in high school, and even in the first years of college.

You don’t resent him, you think. You couldn’t blame him because you weren’t honest either. You consented, to all of the kisses and touches even if he hadn’t officially had sex with you. You wanted to, but you were terrified. Not at the prospect of penetration but at the prospect of not being enough and the fact that Jungkook was the only person you wanted to have sex with while he had options that were far more attractive and experienced than you were.

That’s why you needed time because at least you could get your shit together even if it was an uphill battle.

“Earth to ____?” Taehyung waves a hand in front of your face with a concerned expression.

You blink, snapping out of your daze as you offer a meek smile and an apology.

“We just asked you if you wanted a small get together at Tae’s and I’s place for your birthday?” Jimin asks.

“Really?” You beam. That was exactly what you preferred.

“Yeah, we know you don’t like clubs and stuff. Just a small and intimate gathering with all your best buds.” He grins.

You nod your head, but Yena beats you to a response.

“By best buds you mean the three friends she has, which is us and the two meatheads duelling for her affection.” She snorts.

You flush, “Y-Yena!”

Taehyung snickers at your embarrassment.

“It doesn’t help that both of them are literally the biggest dudes on the football team. It’s literally like watching King Kong and Godzilla getting into a fight for world domination.”

Jimin throws his back in laughter as you fold your arms across your chest at post at the way your friends are practically crying in laughter at the image. Jimin was clutching onto Taehyung for his dear life because if he didn’t then he’d fall off the chair.

“Stop,” You whine, “you guys are being mean.”

“Oh my God, you’re literally the only person on this earth that would take two people fighting for your attention as an offence.” Taehyung groans.

“I-It’s not that!” You deny exasperatedly, “I-It’s just … awkward …”

Jimin sighs with a small smile, patting your head.

“If it’s any consolation I think it’s offensive that Jungkook thinks he even has the right to breathe in—”

“Jimin!”

“Wow. It really is like King Kong and Godzilla.” Jimin whistles lowly, eyeing the scene before him with amusement lingering in his eyes.

“Do you think they’re gonna start slamming their chests soon or …?” Taehyung trails off in a whisper, leaning into Jimin so that the two other men wouldn’t notice.

“I can literally hear you.” You say dryly.

Jimin offers you a plastic smile, “You’re meant to hear us, babe. How about you try to tame them like Jane did with Tarzan?”

Jimin nearly shrieks when you shove him so fiercely that he topples over into Taehyung’s grasp as the second part of the duo only catches him in the process.

You sigh, completely ignoring the way that Jimin’s muttering curses that were directed to you under his breath. Instead, you were transfixed on the scene before you—which specifically is Jungkook and Namjoon staring each other down through the mirror of the gym. You were lucky that it was just the five of you since Namjoon was able to use his captain privileges to book the gym because you had no idea how to explain the fact that two big-sized men were attempting to outdo each other in their circuit reps as if they were on a suicide mission.

“Listen, when I agreed to help you out with your sets I thought I was meant to help log it in for a report.” You exasperate, but the two men continue their manly lift-off as they huff and puff their exertion away.

“Trust me, you are helping. Being the motivation is more than—”

This time it’s Taehyung who faces your wrath as you thwack him upside the head.

From where Jungkook and Namjoon were, Jungkook can only deliver death stares into the direction of his captain who returns it tenfold. He wasn’t even sure why they were doing this but something a flicked definitely switched in Jungkook when Namjoon (purposefully) revealed that you were helping out with something. At the gym. Supposedly alone.

Jungkook’s primitive side came out because the next thing Namjoon knew was that Jungkook managed to drag himself, and Jimin and Taehyung as a diversion. He still feels his chest swell with pride when recalling the scowl on Namjoon’s face when he entered the gym, all fake smiles and a pep in his step.

“____, could you help me spot?” Namjoon breathes, sitting up from whatever the hell he was doing with the barbell. You weren’t fixated with gym language and you weren’t even sure why he was asking you when there was an entire Jimin and Taehyung right next to you.

“Uh, okay sure—“

“Noona,” Jungkook calls.

You freeze.

“Jungkook … I thought we established that you don’t need to call me that anymore.” You raise an eyebrow.

You miss the obvious glare that Namjoon shoots his bitchass friend, as well as the snorts that leave Jimin and Taehyung’s mouth.

“Pay attention to me,” Jungkook pouts. Like, actually pouts. You somehow flush because he seemed so much like the younger version of Jungkook who used to always coddle you for attention.

“Okay but after I help—”

“Yeah. After she helps me.” Namjoon interjects, and you nearly jump at the way he’s suddenly behind you, more so—pressed against your back with his hands on your hips as he moves you aside to get to another piece of equipment.

Your breath hitches because while you weren’t exactly invested in Namjoon in the romantic sense, he was undeniably attractive and … big. You could salivate in private.

“Oh my God, do you see that?” Taehyung hisses in a hushed whisper.

“Hyung is petty,” Jimin gawks.

“This is Namjoon we’re talking about. Didn’t he steal all the umbrellas from your dorm because you ratted him out to the librarian when he broke a bookshelf?” Taehyung recalls.

Jimin pauses to retract his mind to that moment.

“He’s so petty and I’m living for it. Look at Kook’s face,” He snickers, nudging Taehyung with his shoulder.

Jungkook only can clench his jaw in return because he knew that you wouldn’t be a fan of him reaching out to strangle the shit out of Namjoon. But the older boy seems fine, if not pleased with how Jungkook’s fuming in his own spot.

“Let me just …” You cock a thumb to Namjoon, before releasing a breath of your own and going to help him with whatever he needed in the first place.

“Jimin can help him. I have a more pressing problem.” He complains.

You stop in your tracks before turning around, raising an eyebrow at Jungkook who finally sits up, still staring at you like you held all the solutions in the world.

“Literally wait for your turn,” Namjoon scowls.

“My arm hurts,” Jungkook says, raising his arm to show you.

“I don’t … see anything?” You furrow your brows.

“Because my muscles hurt, Noona,” Jungkook emphasises with a flex of his bicep and you can feel yourself get hot in the way your eyes can’t stray away.

You’re momentarily distracted by the blatant display of muscle by Jungkook that you completely miss the way that Jimin and Taehyung are struggling to breathe because of how hard they’re stifling their laughter or the way that Namjoon is contemplating on throwing the nearest dumbbell into Jungkook’s direction.

You flush, “Okay, you know what? Wait here. Let me get the first aid kit.” You mumble, quickly scampering off to alleviate yourself from the situation.

The moment you leave the room, Namjoon takes two long strides until he reaches where Jungkook’s sat, before wrapping a hand around the arm that was supposedly hurt—and squeezes.

“Ow! What the fuck hyung?!” Jungkook shrieks.

“Don’t hyung me, you brat.” Namjoon seethes, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jungkook gapes, while Jimin and Taehyung watch in amusement.

“Me?! What’s wrong with you?” Jungkook retorts, equally as agitated, “Oh, _____, help spot me! Woe is me! Like she wouldn’t get crushed under you, you meathead!”

“Like you’re any better,” Namjoon snaps, “Oh, Noona, pay attention to me. My arm hurts. You might as well have asked her to change your fucking diapers at the rate you’re acting like a damn child.”

“You’re the one that started all of this!” Jungkook exasperates, “With all due respect hyung, I love you and you’re my captain but I really feel like smashing your head into the wall right now.”

“That’s it?” Namjoon scoffs, “Well I’ll do you one better and let you know that every time you breathe in my direction I feel like—”

“Oh my God will you two idiots shut the fuck up?” Taehyung interjects, snapping at the two boys who pause, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Even Jimin is surprised at Taehyung’s intervention, purely because he was the type that usually let shit slide or let other people put problematic individuals into place. He was the mediator, the diplomat—not usually the aggressor.

“Wha—”

“Another peep and I’m going to smother your body under the dumbbells and leave you here to rot and die.” Taehyung seethes, staring straight into Jungkook’s soul.

That shuts him up.

“Both of you are acting like goddamn children, and for what? To battle out your masculinity to see who gets ____’s attention first?” Taehyung exasperates.

Namjoon clears his throat, “We were just—”

“—acting like a bunch of barbarians who’s never seen civilisation?” Taehyung retorts dryly, “Yeah. Because that’s exactly what this looks like. The two of you are so petty and for what? You two are literally rubbing the last remaining brain cells you have with each other but nothing is coming out from it. Like—nothing. Do you think she’d give a shit which one of you can lift more reps? That means absolutely nothing! She’s already freaked the fuck out at the prospect of her childhood best friend being in love with her and now we have Big Tit Number One and Two battling it out like you’re in the Greek Olympics.”

Jungkook blinks, and Jimin is mildly impressed.

“So before she comes back and tends to Jungkook’s hurt muscle,” Taehyung sneers, eyes narrowing at a guilty-looking Jungkook, “Both of you better sort your shit out.”

Namjoon flushes, embarrassed at the prospect of being called out, all while Jungkook is avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“Oh my God, do you have a crush on each other or something? Apologise!” Taehyung gestures towards the two boys who awkwardly blink at each other, feeling much like reprimanded children.

It’s Namjoon who breaks the silence first, clearly the more mature one in the situation.

“Look … Jungkook,” He sighs, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to … drag it out like this. I don’t mean it maliciously and you’re my friend and teammate, so I’d really hate if a girl got in the way.”

Jungkook nibbles on his lips, eyebrows still scrunched; and the irrational part of him tells him to ignore the apology. But with the way that Taehyung is glaring him down, with Jimin’s expectant gaze, he knows that he doesn’t have much of a choice.

“I’m sorry … too,” he winces at his own voice, “But just to let you know … I really …” He shuts his eyes, feeling his chest tighten when he tries to force the words out, “She isn’t just … a girl to me, hyung. I really, really like her. And—I know you like her too but … I fucked up and I really want to make things right and seeing you—”

Jungkook is flushing while he rambles on, fully aware that the rest of his friends are listening intently to him speaking his heart. But a hand rests itself on his shoulder, and when Jungkook opens his eyes he sees Namjoon offering him a gentle smile.

“I know,” He says, “I know I said I wouldn’t back off …” He trails off and Jungkook recalls the conversation he had with him in the very same gym just a few weeks back, “But I don’t think I can compete with a decade long love story.”

Jungkook scoffs, though his ears are flushed.

“It’s really not—”

Namjoon waves him off, clasping a tight hand onto his back that tells him it’s okay, and whatever that was going on would get better. And Jungkook feels marginally better and allows himself to let out a sigh of release.

“So are the two of you gonna kiss or what?” Jimin asks in the midst of the silence.

Namjoon glares at the boy, “Don’t make me give you an extra ten laps.”

He backs down immediately, raising his hands up in defence. And at that moment, you return, all smiles and with a pant as you raise the first aid kit up.

“Your arm?” You smile sweetly, and Jungkook can only offer a weak on in return.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Depends. Will I have to run from the government if I answer you honestly?” Yena ponders out loud.

You roll your eyes but shake your head anyway. The two of you were meant to be cooking dinner but you’ve surrendered yourself to Netflix and Yena’s witty live commentary on horrible films you were scrolling through an hour earlier. Though, your head wasn’t quite in it, to begin with; your thoughts drifting to other aspects, ones that you thought too hard for and didn’t necessarily know the answer to.

It was frustrating, the way that you wanted to have a solution for everything but overthought every single case that happens to pass by your mind.

“No one’s hunting anyone down, your anarchist,” You say, “This is a little … personal.”

You didn’t have any girl friends prior to Yena, and that was your first mistake. You weren’t the person that actively avoided having girl friends because you thought they were dramatic or overly emotional but purely because you never knew how to befriend women. It was weird—being a woman yet being muddled with your own sense of femininity that suppressed your ability to form meaningful friendships with your women peers.

Throughout most of your childhood and teenaged life, you only had Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook. While they were more than enough to keep your memories cheerful and filled with laughter, there were more personal things that you couldn’t quite approach them with. They had each other to confide in their ‘manly’ discussions, small talk that you’d often flush at—but you couldn’t ask them the same things you wanted to.

You knew, that on a fundamental level that your personal things were just … things. It wasn’t that deep, nor did it require a PhD in Gender Studies to fully understand the nuance of periods or apparent ‘girl’ problems; you just needed to listen. But you were timid, and you got embarrassed super easily—so that never boded well whenever you’d want to approach them with a question of your own.

But now, you had Yena—debatably the most open and understanding person you’ve met in your life; and you owed it to yourself, and her—to be honest, to live yourself vicariously in your girl best friends eyes—and ask:

“How do you have sex?”

Granted, there was definitely a smoother way of peeling off the bandaid, but you supposed if you were going to be discussing this one way or another, you’d go big or go home.

“I’m sorry,” She coughs, “What?”

You blink.

“Sorry, I guess I should’ve asked if you were a virgin first …” You mumble.

Yena stares at you with a stupefied expression as she gapes at you.

“Hey, repeat after me: candy, tree and cat.” She grabs you by your shoulders.

“I’m not cerebrally compromised, Yena,” you say dryly.

“Repeat,” She glares.

You huff, shoving her hand off your shoulder.

“Candy, tree and cat. There, happy?” You huff.

She eyes you weirdly as you sigh.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes!” You exasperate, “So like … how? Do you just? Penetrate?”

Yena blinks one more time, her eyes trailing to the ceiling as she asks for a higher being to give her strength before she returns her gaze onto your figure.

“Babe, that is literally the unsexiest way to approach sex.”

“Penetration?” You furrow your brows.

She scrunches her brows, “No.” She gestures to you, “That.”

You scowl.

“I don’t know how to approach sex! That’s why I’m asking you. I literally don’t know who else to approach. If I went to Jimin or Taehyung I’m pretty sure they’d just stare at me and cry. Namjoon is out of the picture because he’d likely approach sex textbook style and I don’t need that level of detail right now. I definitely can’t ask Jungkook because he’s the guy I wanna have sex with. So yeah. I’m here because you’re a woman and the only person I can have a full conversation with without losing my will to live.”

Yena gawks at you, jaw slack as you finish your ramble; ears flushed.

“… you …” She begins, wracking her brain for the words that seem to fail her, “… okay. You know what, the fact that you’re here and putting your big girl pants on and asking me this is a feat in itself so I’m going to just ignore the fact that you said you wanted to have sex with Jungkook.”

You flush, “I was word vomiting—”

“Ah,” She holds her hands up, levelling you with a knowing glare, “If you want honest, you be honest too.”

You slump in your seat, sighing as you nod your head defeatedly.

“Firstly, I’m not a virgin. I could never be a virgin.” Yena declares, “Granted, I’ve slept with three people and two of them were women. But the idiot I lost my virginity to was, unfortunately, of XY chromosomes so … I guess I can answer your questions.”

“I mean … I know how sex works but … approaching it …” You mutter.

“And sex isn’t this groundbreaking act that requires Einstein’s IQ to partake in. It’s both intimate and not, and that’s definitely a personal preference. You can know the semantics of how people have sex, for hets in this case, which is just the classic ol’ penetration method where the penis enters the—”

“Your point?” You exasperate.

“—okay, I got a little carried away. But really, sex isn’t … difficult. It’s scary, I’ll give you that. But you don’t go into your first time thinking you’ll be great at it. Hell, you won’t even like sex that much your first few times unless your partner is a sex demon or something.”

“I mean when Jungkook …” You shudder, “When he … I … you know, did things … it felt …” You fiddle with your fingers. Your ears were undoubtedly on fire, and you were so embarrassed saying these things out loud because it was just so awkward!

“Good? You know I’m not going to judge you for it,” she says pointedly, “That’s what friends are for, right?”

You flush, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment. You knew that Yena would never judge you for something as trivial and as unimportant as your sexual endeavours, but this was still a road you’ve yet to properly navigate yourself.

“I … came,” you wince at your breathy voice, “It felt good. And … he’s experienced, you know? I just don’t want to …”

Yena looks at you inquisitively.

“You don’t want to …?”

You sigh deeply, considering your next words with a soft murmur, “I don’t want to not live up to his expectations, you know?”

She frowns at you, “Jungkook’s made some mistakes but you said it yourself. He’s in love with you,” she says softly, “There’s no pressure to have sex with him just because it’s out in the open now, you know?”

You nibble on your lips.

“It’s … more than just that,” you tell her, “I told him I needed time, and really, I do. But it isn’t because I’m confused. I mean, kind of—but really it’s because I don’t want to walk into something and disappoint him … I’m just … scared.”

Yena holds your hand in hers while offering you a gentle smile.

“It’s valid that you’re scared. But there really isn’t anything that can come out of being scared right now. The two of you worked through an obstacle, and here you are creating another one that doesn’t quite exist yet. Trust me, when the time feels right, it does. And you’ll feel ready. Will you still be scared? Maybe. But it’ll feel like it’s meant to fit within your timeline.”

You nibble on your lips, “Is it bad that I’m overthinking this?” You wince.

Yena shrugs her shoulders, “Like everything else in your life?” She teases.

You whine, shoving at her shoulder playfully where all Yena does is snicker in response. You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting out of the conversation, even if it was vaguely about the ins and outs of sexual exploration. And she was right, you’ll always be afraid of something, whether it’ll benefit you or harm you because that’s what change does. It shifts your comfort zone into a space that may be unfamiliar but necessary.

You lean into Yena’s shoulder, and a wave of overwhelming emotion washes upon you when you look at her. You really didn’t know how you survived a time without Yena in your life. And as if she’s noticed your glassy gaze, she raises an eyebrow at you.

“What are you looking at?”

You grin at her, all teeth and gums on display as you hug onto her arm like a koala.

“I’m just really happy you’re in my life.” You sigh wistfully.

She pauses for one whole second before she snorts.

“Wow, talk about sex once and suddenly you’re in love with me?” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, “Tell Jeon and Kim that you’re mine now.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes.

“They’re not even competing in the same league as you are,” you assure her.

She smiles.

“So … does that mean I don’t need to get you a birthday gift?”

That earns a thwack on her shoulder.

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blank-space-daisy13 · 3 years

Text

Why I won’t invite my biological father to my wedding.

I wanted to post this on Instagram or Facebook but I don’t want to deal with people saying I’m “drama.” But I wanted to write this out just in case someone is ballsy enough to ask me.

Let’s start off with the fact that after he got with my step mom, he wasn’t really around. He also never really cared or tried to take care of us (my brother and me) unless he absolutely had to.

Before my step mom and when we still lived in the apartment, On nights he had us my mom would drop us off already fed, he’d turn the tv on and go play on his computer until we had to go to bed. If he had us on a weekend, same thing. We’d wake up and he’d feed us breakfast, then tv with him in his room on the computer, lunch, tv, dinner, tv, and bed. When we moved from the apartment we stayed at his buddy’s house where he rented a room but guess what? He’d send us down to the basement all day to watch tv, and let us up for meals.

When my stepmom came into the picture, we started going to Canada. On every single one of his weekends. She was nice, at first. Sooner or later everyone shows their true colors. But she started slowly to get a hold of my dad. (My dad had no boundaries with us and she wanted to “help” my dad learn to discipline, but she’s a little extreme.) I once got punished for saying the word “butt” because we only say, “bum” and he yelled at me. Yelled. I was about 7 or 8. Then I heard my future step mother telling him how good he did. Also while we were there, I remember very few times we actually hung out with my dad. It was always being shoved into the playroom with my brother, future stepsister, and sometimes future stepbrother. (Step mom never had full custody of stepbrother.) We’d never leave the playroom other than for meals like the TV. But at least we weren’t rotting our brains, I guess.

After awhile he decided he wanted 50/50 custody. My stepmom at this point could be brutal emotionally. I remember getting yelled at for not knowing any of my immediate family member’s birthdays. I was about 8 or 9. Kind of shitty don’t you think? Going back to the wanting 50/50 custody, he didn’t actually want us. Looking back I understand this now. He just didn’t want to pay as much child support, and that’s probably the only reason my step mom agreed to this. They treated us (my brother and i) horribly. He moved close to my mom’s to prove he’d be willing to do the 50/50 custody, and at that point it was hell. If we did something wrong, immediately we’d get soap in the mouth. My brother later on was getting hot sauce. It would be for things such as, “not sharing with your step sister,” (which she would’ve lied about) or “talking back,” when as a kid I was asking a simple question about their rules. They had so many rules to the point you didn’t realize you were breaking a rule until they told you it was one. My *fondest* memory was when they’d send us kids to the basement for a few hours during the weekend and then got mad when we went through boxes and such to find toys to play with. Because when they first sent us down there, they sent us down there with nothing at all. Sure we probably shouldn’t have gone through boxes, where my brother and I found our toys that they never put with our step sister’s toys, but they sent us down there with nothing at all. They expected us to “imagine” things with no toys. I also got yelled at one weekend because they asked us to clean our bathrooms. (Step sister and I shared a Jack and Jill bathroom and my brother had his own bathroom as well.) We went and picked things up and went back to play. They both yelled at us and said, “If I had meant pick up I would’ve said pick up. I said CLEAN.” At this point I had never cleaned a bathroom in my life. They gave us the cleaning supplies and we went to work. I did what I thought was the best I could do and then my stepmom yells at me, “That wasn’t nearly long enough!!!! Haven’t you ever cleaned a bathroom before?!” Uh no ma’am, I was literally 10. But that was her favorite way to make us feel like shit. To yell, “Haven’t you done XY&Z before?” Or “You don’t know (blank)?! So disrespectful! You should know these things!” (That was said about the birthdays. Again I was a decently young kid.) But going forward, towards the end of them living there, they had a baby together, my other brother J.

Luckily for my brother and I, he eventually gave up going for the 50/50 custody. But with doing this, he left and we didn’t see him for a long time. 5-6 years approximately. I was 15 when he decided he wanted to see us again, and because of everything we had gone through before, we didn’t want to. I had a choice but my brother didn’t, and I was forced to go.

At this point he had married my stepmother, and was living in the same subdivision, and one road away, where had had a house with my mom when they were married. Kind of awkward but ok.

And I have to say, they were better. To a point. They wanted us to feel bad that we didn’t want to be there. At the time I had a really old phone, not a smart phone, that didn’t lock, but they expected my phone to be on the counter at 9pm every night. They read my texts and held them against me, but when I called them out on reading my texts, they told me I was crazy. I would text my friends that I didn’t want to be there, and that I was uncomfortable. They asked me, “Why don’t you want to be here? Why are you uncomfortable? We understand what we did in the past was wrong, but the past is the past and you have to forgive us!” (One wrong thing I was always taught was you always have to forgive. You don’t always have to forgive for things that hurt you.) Finally at the end of this period, they sat us down and tried to make us feel bad by saying, “If you don’t want to be here, we don’t want you here. We want you to want to be here.” At 15 I tried to explain why this was hard, but they didn’t care. It wasn’t their way so they weren’t ok with it.

Fast forward to my Senior Year of high school, I don’t remember how, but my father and I got in touch. My step mom wanted nothing to do with me because of a dumb YouTube video I made at 14 where I “talked shit” about her daughter and herself. Yes, I did, but who didn’t do something dumb at 14? I wasn’t allowed around their house because HER son had a “drug problem.” (Marijuana) Whatever, I didn’t care. Slowly we lost touch because I was the only one calling, and I got sick of it. I was done. But I was still young.

Fast forward to me being a sophomore in college. I was 20 or 21. My brother had an issue that got the police and CPS involved. My father decided to text me and ask me what was going on. I called him and told him that he had “no fucking reason to know what was going on” because he was never around. He gaslighted me into feeling bad because I cussed him out for 10 minutes. But we kept contact after that because I had thought about it and I wanted to get to know my little brother J more. We did lose contact again but then we gain it back later on.

Skip forward a couple years and I’m talking to my cousin, (another thing was he kept us from his side of the family and I had lost contact with most of them until I was an adult.) my cousin told me he was going to MY little BABY sister’s 1st birthday. My father had been talking to me for a few months at this point and NEVER mentioned I had a baby sister. He told me, “I thought your aunt posted about it. I saw it on Facebook and assumed you knew!” It doesn’t matter whether I saw it on Facebook or not. He should’ve told me. But whatever, I let that go too.

Here is where I get frustrated. I wouldn’t call for a couple weeks because I didn’t think about it. I’ve only seen him twice in the past 9 years. But he would blame me for us not talking, when he’d never call or try to talk to me. It drives me crazy when people think like that. It’s not just my responsibility and mine alone.

Skip forward to a few months ago when he brought up politics. I hated this because I’m mostly liberal/democrat and he’s 100% republican. He called liberals “libtards” and goes, “you’re not a libtard are you?” And when I tell him it’s offensive he says, “It’s just a joke!” But now we’re here and yet again it’s been 2 or 3 months since we’ve spoken because he’s blocked my number. It goes straight to voicemail and my texts aren’t going through as iMessages. I’ve decided after trying for over two months, he’s uninvited to the wedding. He’s never met my fiancé, ever. We were only inviting him to be civil. But if he can’t even speak to me, I feel it’s not my problem, and it’s one less drama issue to worry about at the wedding.

My family can believe what they want. There are so many things left out of this 15 year drama circle of my father just disappearing. And I don’t care anymore. I hope someone asks why he wasn’t invited because I know for a fact he’ll be at least telling the whole family that he wasn’t invited. And I don’t mind sending them this so they can know why.

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mariaiscrafting · 3 years

Note

yo i saw your post to canon about gender studies and stuff and i ran out of asks ages ago so I couldnt send this until now, but feel free to go off about gender and stuff, i would love to hear it- maybe tag me in it if you do? - evilglitter (canon's canonical spouse)

Heya, @evilglitter! Lol yeah, I saw canon’s reply and I was just gonna ask, like, what exactly y’all would like me to go off about. It was kinda an open-ended sorta reply where I can really talk about anything y’all are interested in/questioning about, I guess.

If y’all don’t have any specifics you wanna know about for now, that’s cool, too, I can go off about what’s been bothering me lately and helping me along my own journey to pin point my gender identity.

The first thing my brain’s been hung up on is the difference between gender identity & expression. So, just as people say pronouns /=/ gender, I’m of the belief that expression /=/ gender, either. To explain this to people and better-conceptualize it myself, I always return to the kind of example this trans lady on Youtube (Contrapoints) goes back to. She brings up various examples of people who wear makeup: First, there is a cisgender man who might be mistaken as a woman when he wears feminizing makeup but is still a man nonetheless, whether wearing makeup or not. Then there’s a cisgender man who uses he/him pronouns when out of drag but she/her pronouns and a female name when in it, but still identifies as a man in and out of drag, almost like he’s playing a character. There are non-binary, genderfluid people who will identify as men and use he/him pronouns out of drag, while identifying as women and using she/her pronouns in drag; they identify themselves as women and men depending on their expression. And there are transgender women who identify as women in and out of drag, regardless of their expression. I’m not sure if I’m articulating this example too well - it’s much better-articulated in video format, I think - but that’s basically how I see gender identity and expression. They are two separate things that draw from each other and might have links to each other, depending on each individual’s view on their own gender, but don’t have to match at all. Butch lesbians can have a more masculine gender expression, and yet identify as cisgender women. Transmasc people can also have a masculine gender expression, and yet identify as trans men, non-binary, or anything else. Gender identity does not have to equate with expression, and that’s a really difficult box that I’ve had to learn to break out of, for my own sake, and through the gen & sexuality studies I’ve been doing at uni. Like, as a presumed cis woman my whole life, I’ve just assumed that to be perceived as a woman, I need to express myself femininely, and that if I fit into that feminine gender expression, I do not deviate from the identity of a woman. But lately I’ve been grappling with the idea that maybe I don’t identify as much as a woman as I once thought, that when I look inside myself and question the role I want to fit into in society, how I want my peers and colleagues to treat me, and my own characteristics/tendencies, I might not be as binary a woman as I always was taught to believe, and none of these things are affected by the fact that I’m curvy or wear skirts and heels or wear makeup; I can be as feminine or as masculine as I like, but to me, those do not equate my gender, and it’s okay if they don’t.

Lol the other thing I’d like to rant about for now is different theories of gender. First, I’d like to say that I’m by no means an expert. I’m literally just some second-year G&S minor who’s watched a lot of videos from trans people, learned a lot from Tumblr over the past 7-8 years, and read a couple texts here and there. I don’t know nearly as much as I’d like to pretend, but I’ll give my take on what I do know a little about. There are lots of different theories on what exactly gender is that overlap and contradict each other, at times. There’s the biological perspective that I’m sure we’re all familiar with - the belief that gender = your sex assignment. The problems with this theory are obvious, in that it doesn’t account for intersex people/people with chromosomal/hormonal discrepancies, or binary transgender people. Basically, the theory that XY = man and XX = woman is pretty... antiquated and flawed, imo. Then there’s the theory that gender is a bunch of performances, which I think came from Judith Butler, this well-known 2nd Wave feminist. This theory basically states that gender is this, like, specific, stylized series of actions that we perform everyday to fit into what our society’s roles for our genders are. Butler would probably disagree with me about expression versus identity, because to her, gender identity doesn’t go beyond the performance of one’s own gender. Basically, what we perform everyday, whether it be to act feminine, masculine, or androgynously, is telling of what our gender identity is. If we perform the actions of being a woman, then we are a woman, etc. Finally - and I’m sure there are many more theories on gender, but these are three I’m most familiar with - there’s the theory I personally most agree with - gender as a social construct. This is the idea that gender is constructed by societies, that gender roles are imposed onto us from the external, and that we are then socialized into whatever gender. I don’t totally agree with this theory because I do believe that gender goes beyond just the social roles we try to adhere to to fit into society, and the socialization we undergo from childhood; I do believe there is something at least a little innate about one’s own gender identity. The road social construct theory goes down is this one where, if we created a society free of hierarchies and gender roles and such, gender would cease to exist, which... is that true, I don’t really know. But I do think that gender is at least somewhat of a construct that society first created because it was useful for the creation of an efficient society, but is now just used to justify oppression, and that beyond that, gender as it functions in society is just this illusion that we could 100% do without if we want to obtain equality or whatever.

But anyways, lol I dunno if any of what I’ve just ranted about makes sense or is what y’all were looking for, and honestly at this point, I’m just using this as an opening for me to rant about something I’ve had bottled up for quite a while. I apologize for not being totally coherent since I’m not very experienced in actually talking about gender theory. If y’all want to chat about something specific, feel free to ask anything. :) Hope your journey to figure out your gender goes well, @canonurl

#asks #gender #gender identity #not mcyt #idek what this ask turned into lmfao #Anonymous #canonurl

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gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights · 4 years

Link

Rating: G

Chapter Summary: Adrien and Ladybug skate together. Chloe and Kagami play damage control.

Word Count: 2,809 | Chapter 3/4

XXX

“XY!” Chloé shoved partygoers aside as she stormed up to the DJ table.

“Huh?” Her former-favorite musician looked at her like she was crazy. He was crazy! ...And he couldn’t hear her through those stupid clunky headphones.

She yanked them off of his ears.

“Hey! What gives, Cholera?”

“It’s Chloé. Seriously, we’ve met five times! How hard is it to remember my name?” If she had to call Jean Claude by his real name, the least everyone else could do was give her the same respect.

“Chloé, Coleslaw, whatever. Why are you yelling?”

Chloé pinched the bridge of her nose. XY was probably just too stupid to remember. Just like he was too stupid to follow basic instructions.

“You posted a picture to Instagram!”

“Yeah?” XY grinned and dug his pinkie in his ear. Ugh. His ears had to be clogged if he could stand being so close to the blasting music. “Pretty cute, huh? Lu’s a really good skater.”

It had been a pretty cute photo of Luka lifting XY above his head, while XY spread his arms wide like an airplane. Frankly, it was shocking that Luka’s skinny noodle arms could lift his boyfriend. But none of that was the point.

“No one is supposed to post photos until after the party.” It shouldn’t have even been possible. XY’s phone must have been some fancy model that could get past Max’s data block. “You’re going to bring Adrien’s bodyguard right to us!”

“Pshaw, it’s no big deal. They’ll be too busy looking at me to even notice he’s here.”

Chloé smacked her forehead. She did not get paid enough for this.

“Is something wrong?” Luka asked, approaching Chloé and XY with two slices of passionfruit cake.

“Yes, there is! Your utterly ridiculous boyfriend is going to get Adrien’s party busted!”

Luka sighed at XY. “Baby, we talked about this.”

XY’s bottom lip jutted out. “But… it was just one teeny-tiny little picture…”

“Just listen to Chloé and take it down. You can post it again when the party’s over.”

Finally, someone was taking her seriously!

“Awwww, fine.” XY pulled out his phone and deleted the post. “Happy now, Clooney?”

She huffed, but turned her back before she could say anything she’d regret.

“Excellent work, Chloé.”

She jumped. Kagami was standing right there. How did she always show up like some kind of ninja?

“We will still need to engage our failsafes.” Kagami began typing on her phone. Chloé stood on her tip-toes, looking over her shoulder. She was posting… some selfies with Adrien in a blue wig?

“Hey, I thought no one was supposed to post pictures.” Chloé frowned.

“These will lead Nathalie and Adrien’s bodyguard off our trail. I’ll adjust the lighting to make them appear as if they were taken just now.” She added filters, and the background grew dark. “Now they will believe Adrien is at the juice shop with me.”

“Not bad.” Chloé smirked. “You know, for someone who never lies, you’re awfully good at fooling people.”

“Only when necessary. Adrien’s happiness tonight is my number one priority.”

Kagami’s gaze shifted down to the rink, where Adrien and Ladybug were skating hand-in-hand.

“You’ve done a good job,” Chloé said quietly, leaning against the railing. Over her shoulder she watched Adrien and Ladybug weave figure eights. Even over XY’s blaring music, she could hear their laughter. Two years ago that would have made her jealous.

But it was good to see her oldest friend and her biggest hero make each other happy, even if it was only for one night.

“Come on.” Kagami smiled at her. “No more slacking. Time to learn how to skate.”

Chloé faked annoyance. “Oh, alright. If you insist.”

XXX

Adrien glided like he was in a dream. The soft pressure of Ladybug’s hand in his was the only thing anchoring him to the ground, and even that felt too good to be real.

But she was real. She was here. She cared about Adrien enough to come to his birthday party.

“You didn’t hit your head too hard, did you?” Ladybug giggled.

Oh. He must have been staring at her stupidly again. That was how he’d tripped over Marc and crashed the first time.

“I’m fine. It helps that the ground is a built-in ice pack.”

She laughed again. She never laughed at Chat Noir’s jokes this much. Maybe she was just trying not to hurt his feelings on his birthday, but he’d take it.

“Look at that.” She bumped his shoulder with hers. “Looks like Queen Bee could use an ice power-up.”

He laughed as he saw Chloé wobble onto the rink, Kagami steadying her with both hands. He was glad they were both getting along, or at least trying to. Having so many of his friends in one place was the best birthday gift of all.

“I bet she’d love that.” He wished he could use his ice powers too. It would make it easier to avoid slipping and embarrassing himself again.

Not that she’d laughed at him, really. That would be weird to get used to—not that he should get used to it. As soon as he was suited up again, they’d be back to bantering and making fun of each other like normal.

But for now, he savored the feeling of her eyes on his, of the way her brow softened beneath her mask every time he smiled.

(He was smiling a lot.)

“Hey, Adrien! You gonna kiss her yet?”

Adrien’s face caught fire at Kim’s shout. Kim didn’t just say that.

Please tell me he didn’t just say that.

His eyes darted to Ladybug’s. She’d dropped his hand, and her mouth was stammering wordlessly.

He couldn’t blame her. His brain wouldn’t send a coherent thought to his mouth, either.

Kim turned around and started skating backwards. “I’ve got a bet with Alix. She thinks you don’t have the guts, but I believe in you. Don’t let me down, man!”

He promptly crashed into Nino and Alya, and all three of them wiped out. Normally, Adrien would’ve rushed to help his friends up. But right now, he wanted nothing more to melt through the ice.

“Please just—ignore him,” he said quickly, falling back and clinging to the handrail. “I don’t know where he got the idea that—I mean, not that I wouldn’t—er—I’m going to shut up now.”

She laughed hysterically, eyes darting back and forth. Was she already looking for a way to escape?

Gah, and everything had been going so well too! He could almost believe that Ladybug… that she… what, liked him? Just because she was nice to him and laughed at his jokes and held his hand…

“You know,” she said quietly, “I wouldn’t, um, mind if you…”

His heart sped up. It could’ve done backflips in the pauses between her words.

“If I…?” He asked, trying not to sound too eager. She could’ve been about to say anything, after all.

Like maybe she wouldn’t mind if he left her alone forever. Maybe she wouldn’t mind if he faceplanted on the ice like Kim did. Maybe she wouldn’t mind if he locked himself in a tower, never to see the light of day until a fearless ogre came to save him.

She leaned in closer. Her eyes sparkled as bright as the frosty tips of her tiara.

“If you… got me a slice of cake!”

He blinked, pulling back. “O-of course! Um, did you want me to bring it back here, or…?”

“Uh, yeah, sure!” She said. “Er, on second thought, there’s no tables on the rink, haha, and I’ll probably trip even with my powers if I try to eat down here…”

“There’s tables closer to the entrance,” he suggested, still startled by Ladybug’s sudden shift. The smile on her face looked strained.

“S-sounds great!”

Unfortunately, getting out of the rink meant skating past Kim again. He’d finally made it to his feet with Nino and Alya’s help. Alix sped past, blowing a raspberry at him.

“Just don’t make eye contact and we might be fine,” he said under his breath.

...Or not.

“Yo, Ladybug! How’s my little monkey dude doing?”

Ladybug groaned. “That’s my luck.”

“I thought Chat Noir was supposed to be the one with bad luck?” Adrien joked right before Kim got close enough to sling an arm around Ladybug’s shoulder.

“Hey, King Monkey.” She grimaced. “Xuppu’s doing fine. But, um, Adrien and I were just about to get some cake, so…”

“Aww, come on! I bet my boy Adrien tastes better than some kind of fruitcake. Who even thought of putting fruit and cake together? Gross.” Kim stuck out his tongue.

Plagg was shaking with laughter inside of Adrien’s borrowed hoodie. Couldn’t the kwami Just Cataclysm him and put him out of his misery?

“It’s passionfruit cake,” he corrected on principle. “And Marinette made it, so it’s going to be amazing.”

For some reason, Ladybug’s face only got more red at that. “Right, amazing! Definitely better than kissing Adrien, ha! Ha ha ha…”

Ouch. Now that hurt worse than a Cataclysm.

Kim winced in sympathy before patting Adrien’s shoulder. “Sorry, buddy. I tried.”

“Please stop trying,” he whined.

He and Ladybug finally escaped Kim. Adrien glanced over his shoulder, and saw Nino flashing him a comforting grin. Alya had dropped her head in her hands.

Me too, Alya. Me too.

XXX

“Lesson’s over,” Chloé said while pulling her phone from her pocket. She didn’t slip, even without holding onto the handrail. Despite her attitude, she was implementing Kagami’s lessons well.

“The student doesn’t decide the length of the lesson.” She crossed her arms.

“She does when she has bad news.” Chloé scowled. “Max just texted. That tracker you and Nino put on the Gorilla's car? It’s going off.”

She held up her screen, which showed a map of the streets near their location. A red skull icon flashed towards the ice rink. Not good. Adrien hadn’t even gotten the chance to eat his cake yet.

“We’ll have to deploy the contingency plan.”

“I thought you already—”

“The other contingency plan.”

Kagami grabbed Chloé’s hand and skated towards the exit.

It was time to find Wayhem.

XXX

Marinette’s pulse pounded in her ears. Adrien was still holding her hand, even after Kim had come along and… well, been Kim. But she could take it. She was cool. She was confident. She knew Adrien had a crush on her!

And yet she was still too much of a coward to kiss him.

What if Nino and Kagami were wrong? Granted, Nino knew Adrien better than anyone, and Kagami had probably never been wrong in her life.

But still.

“I hope you like passionfruit.” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck before cutting her a slice of the three-tiered cake. It had taken her two days to fine-tune the recipe, not including the full afternoon she’d spent adding details with icing. It was a pale shade of pinky-orange, dotted around the edges with rosettes of spring green. Just like his eyes.

“Don’t worry, I love it!” she said. It was a bit of an exaggeration, but she had gained a taste for it after eating one passionfruit macaron a week for the past two years. “You’re lucky Chat Noir isn’t here. He’d finish off this whole cake as soon as your back was turned.”

Adrien laughed. “He’s got good taste, then.”

It was too bad Marinette didn’t know Chat Noir’s birthday. Passionfruit was his favorite favor, too; she could reuse the recipe.

They took their cake and some plastic forks and settled down at a table. She sat across from him, but the table was small enough for her knees to bump his underneath. She’d dismissed her ice transformation, so she didn’t have to worry about stabbing his feet with her blades.

“Wow,” Adrien said through his first bite. “I knew this cake was going to be good, but this is—I’ve never tasted anything like it!”

“Really?” She grinned. If he was saying that to Ladybug, then he wasn’t just saying it to be nice. He really liked her cake!

“Really. I shouldn’t be so surprised, though. Marinette’s amazing at everything. She’s designed album covers for Jagged Stone, and won the student Ultimate Mecha Strike Tournament, and even impressed my father.” He sighed wistfully. “It’s too bad she couldn’t make it. I really wanted to thank her.”

Her heart fluttered like a butterfly on steroids.

“I—I’m sure she wanted to be here too,” she said. Should she find a way to sneak off and detransform? Would Adrien have been happier if she’d come as herself? “And I’m sure, if she were here… she’d want to thank you. For being such a good friend.”

He stared at her with soft eyes. A bit of icing still clung to his bottom lip. She tore her gaze away.

You heard what he told Kim. He doesn’t want to kiss you!

Wait. That was what she told Kim. After she’d panicked and blabbered something stupid by reflex. Why had she said that? She did want to kiss Adrien! Now he was going to think that she hated him and probably hate the birthday present she’d brought and—

“Ladybug?” Adrien’s voice finally snapped her out of her spiral. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Huh? Why wouldn’t I be?” She grinned too wide.

He glanced down at her plate. Her fork was stabbed into the thin styrofoam. That wasn’t the only thing she’d stabbed, apparently.

“You, um. Spaced out and carved a broken heart into your cake. Unless it’s supposed to be an upside-down spade…?”

She hurriedly shoved forkfuls of cake into her mouth. Ugh, she was a mess without Alya here to help her keep cool. How would Alya feel about getting her miraculous back for the sole purpose of wingmanning?

It probably wouldn’t work. There wasn’t an illusion strong enough to cover up Marinette’s spazzing.

She swallowed her cake. “I’m sorry, Adrien. I just got distracted for a second. What were you saying?”

“I was just talking about Marinette… you two are friends, right?”

“Friends? What—what makes you say that?” She blinked.

“She helped you fight the Evillustrator and Kwamibuster. I guess I just assumed, but—”

“Wait.” Marinette dropped the fork back to her plate. For once, her mind whirled for a reason other than proximity to Adrien. “You—how do you know Marinette helped with Kwamibuster?”

Had Chat Noir gone around blabbing about Multimouse to everyone? No, there’d never been a trace of her on the Ladyblog. And Chat wouldn’t reveal heroes’ identities like that, even if she’d already told him that “Multimouse” couldn’t hold a miraculous again.

“Um… because, she… told me?” Adrien shrugged. A tentative smile graced his lips.

Her brow creased. “No, she didn’t.”

This didn’t make any sense. How did Adrien really know, and why would he lie about it?

Unless—?

Before she could follow that train of thought, Chloé’s hands slammed down on their table.

“Sorry to interrupt, but you two need to go. We’ve got company.”

“What?” Marinette blinked. “Is there an akuma? I’ll—”

She shook her head. “Worse. Kagami’s backups failed. Nathalie’s here.”

“What?” Adrien stood, nearly kicking Marinette’s shin in his haste to get up. “I have to stop her before she tries to have Nino arrested again!”

Marinette grimaced. Yeah, Adrien’s sixteenth birthday party hadn’t exactly worked out. But she wasn’t about to let this one get ruined, too.

“No way, Adrikins.” Chloé blocked his path. “Kagami’s handling her. She told me to make sure you get out before you’re grounded for life.”

“But—!”

“Ladybug, I know you’re smart.” Chloé turned to her before he could protest. “Take him out the window before he pulls one of his little self-sacrificing stunts again.”

Self-sacrificing. That would be like Adrien.

(It would also be like a certain partner of hers, who also liked passionfruit, knew about Multimouse, and had a crush on Ladybug.)

“I can’t just leave you—!”

Marinette stood and wrapped an arm tightly around his waist. He cut off, blushing at their proximity.

“You heard Queen Bee.” She winked at Chloé, who smiled. “Let’s trust your friends. And trust me, too. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

He looked down into her eyes, then hesitated as if about to ask something.

“Whatever, just take your surprise out there!” Chloé pushed them away from the tables.

“Right. Hold onto me,” Marinette told Adrien before grabbing her yo-yo.

“You don’t need to tell me twice,” he mumbled into her hair, his arms firm around her shoulders.

This is fine, she told herself while trying not to melt into an ecstatic puddle. Then she cast out her yo-yo and swung through the distant window.

She and Adrien had a lot to talk about.

#mirauclous ladybug #fic tag #chloe bourgeois #chloe #luka #xy #luxy #kagami tsurugi #kagami #ladrien #kim #hopefully thats enough tags for you to decide if you want to read it or not lol #tali writes #what an ice surprise

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quickspinner · 4 years

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I’ll Give You the Stars - Ch 2 Rise to the Challenge

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Out of chaos comes creation. Or at least rock concerts. Still, there was a flow to the madness backstage, an order that defied observation but still worked towards a common goal. Penny somehow located an eddy in the swirl of people where Luka and Marinette could both sit in relative safety and have a clear view of the stage. She had tall stools relocated from somewhere for the two teens to use, and advised them to plant themselves and not move lest they cause some sort of mishap (Luka pretended not to notice that Penny looked at Marinette when she said this).

While they waited, Luka took the opportunity to text Juleka to make sure she had connected with their bandmates and gotten in okay. He also gave her a brief account of everything that had happened so far and where he was now. Her response made him laugh so hard he nearly fell over.

“What?” Marinette asked, giggling.

“I think Jules is a little jealous,” he chuckled, turning his phone towards her so that she could see the stream of exclamation points and emojis Juleka had sent him.

Marinette laughed with him then, covering her mouth. “Oh, poor thing. But it’ll be easier to bring her in once you’ve got your foot in the door, and I know she knows you wouldn’t forget about her.”

Luka smiled, because she was absolutely right. He teased Juleka for a few more messages before he admitted it to her though. Then he put his phone away.

The opening act was good, blending rock music and classical instruments in a really interesting way. When they left the stage he found himself tapping out a rhythm on his knee as he listened to a new melody unfold in his mind.

He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there staring into space when Marinette nudged him, but when he looked at her she was holding her sketchbook and pencil out to him. She’d turned to a blank page and lined it for him. “I know that look,” she smirked. “Write it down before you lose it.”

“You’re the best,” he said, taking it from her. It was so nice to be with (next to, not with, they weren’t together no matter how comfortable they’d been today) someone who understood, he thought absently as he scribbled his thoughts into the staff she’d drawn for him. The lines weren’t perfect but they were much better than what he could’ve done freehand.

“Just promise you’ll play it for me later.” She patted his arm and he glanced up with a smile.

“Deal.”

When Jagged Stone took the stage, Luka and Marinette were on their feet instantly. Jagged Stone might be eccentric and impulsive but no one could deny that he was more than a singer, he was an entertainer . Luka spared a derisive thought for that spiritless, passionless “artist” XY. All his flash and special effects couldn’t rival Jagged Stone’s sheer charisma on stage. Standing so close, Luka could feel the music all the way down to his bones. It was exhilarating, he loved it, he’d only ever felt this connected when he was playing himself. Conversation was impossible but he caught Marinette’s hand, lacing their fingers together so that his palm pressed hers and he could feel the music through her body as well as his own. He could feel she was cringing slightly, and he glanced at her. She mouthed the word “loud” at him and he could only grin back at her and mouth back “awesome.” She rolled her eyes at him and he turned back to the stage.

When Jagged took a break, he leaned down to her. “Are you okay? We can find somewhere else to watch if you want.”

She shook her head. “I know you want to stay here. I can see you’re loving every minute of this.”

“I am, but not if you’re uncomfortable.”

“I’ll be okay. I’m getting used to it.”

Suddenly Penny appeared at their shoulders. “Luka,” she said urgently, “Jagged wants you to play when he goes back on.”

“WHAT?” Luka stared at her, too shocked to be polite.

“I tried to talk him out of it but he’s stuck on it. He’ll be out there announcing it any minute but I wanted to give you at least a little warning.” Even as she spoke the members of the small backup band were taking their places. Penny put her hand on Luka’s shoulder. “Miraculous is next up in the set list. I told him this was too much pressure but he said you could handle it. He believes in you.”

He felt Marinette's fingers dig into his arm. “Breathe, Luka!” she said urgently and he sucked in a breath, and then another one, too fast. “Are you okay?”

There was a chorus of screams and Luka looked up to see Jagged walking on stage screaming “Rock ‘n roll!”

Luka shot Penny a desperate look but there was no hope of reprieve in her expression. Apparently this was happening and he was going to have to find a way to deal with it. At least he knew Miraculous, it was one of the songs he’d played with Jagged back in the lounge. But he’d never rehearsed with these people before! It took time for a group to gel, you couldn’t just—but Miraculous was mostly guitar and vocals with a pretty basic bass and drum line, Jagged was a solo artist after all and his backup would be used to following the lead guitar, but still, he couldn’t seriously expect—

Luka saw Jagged look their way, and then turn back to the microphone, and the singer’s next words made his stomach drop through the floor.

“How about we have us a guest guitarist for this song? We’ve got one of Paris’ own young up and coming talents here with us today, let’s get him out here!”

Despite the warning Luka’s lips parted in surprise and his breath quickened again. He looked at Marinette, who stared back at him with eyes so wide they looked like they might fall out of her head. The crowd cheered mindlessly.

Luka looked back just in time to meet Jagged’s eyes across the stage. “Come on out here, Luka!” the star hollered into the microphone, waving him down.

His brain disconnected from his body. He was only dimly aware of the pressure of Marinette’s hand on his bicep, the slide of her fingers as he pulled away, the thud of his combat boots on the wood of the stage, the roar of the crowd as he crossed the stage and took with numb hands the guitar that Jagged handed him. “Whenever you’re ready, kid,” Jagged told him, yelling near his ear to be heard over the massive crowd in the stadium. “Don’t be nervous, show ‘em what you got.”

Don’t be nervous, are you serious?

Luka put the guitar strap over his head and settled it comfortably, glancing back off stage as he dug in his pocket for a pick. He could just barely see Marinette standing in the wings with her hands over her mouth, eyes still wide as saucers. He let his eyes skim once over the crowd, taking them in as best he could’ve with the blinding lights, and then he looked down at his feet again. His head shot back up as four voices (which shouldn’t have been nearly loud enough to reach him except that two of them were Ivan and Rose and one was Juleka, who seemed to hoard all her volume for special occasions like these) near the front screamed “KITTY SECTION” in unison and he grinned in their general direction, though he couldn’t see them because of the lights. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, feeling the stage beneath his feet and the energy of the crowd crawling up through his blood. This was insane but...awesome. The thrill of performing began to push back the fear. Oddly enough, even though this was a far bigger crowd than any he’d been in front of before, this was easier than performing one on one for the King of Rock. After all, he smirked, Luka Couffaine had never failed an audience and he would not start that night. He took one more breath, raising his fist to acknowledge the screaming crowd, and then he flipped his pick, placed his fingers on the fretboard, and nodded to Jagged Stone.

The drummer counted them off, Luka began to play...and he killed it. If this was his fifteen minutes of fame he would die happy. The crowd was roaring, Jagged’s energy was contagious, and it was the best Luka had played in his life.

Luka walked off the stage in a euphoric haze, barely aware of Marinette as she took his arm and guided him back to the lounge and sat him down on the couch.

“Did that seriously just happen?” Luka asked her, putting his face in his hands. “Did I really just do that.” He drew his hands down his face until they were just in front of his mouth as he stared at nothing. “Man, what a rush.”

Marinette let out a little squeal, wrapping both hands around his upper arm and bouncing in place. “Luka, that was awesome!! You just played LIVE with JAGGED STONE and I can’t believe you just did that either, I would have DIED! I swear, I had no idea he was going to call you up there. He must have been so impressed with you.” She squealed again and threw her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him in a quick hug before leaning back again to clap her hands and bounce some more.

The adrenaline was doing weird things to his body and she was doing weird things to his heart. Luka caught her face in his hands, cupping under her jaw, and had just enough self-control left to plant his kiss on her cheek and not her mouth. “You’re amazing, Marinette,” he whispered, face still pressed to hers. “Thank you so much.”

“All I did was introduce you,” she said, blushing hard. Her fingertips came to rest shyly on his wrists. “The rest of it was all you.”

He grinned, kissed her cheek again and let her go. “Amazing,” he repeated, pulling his frantically vibrating phone out of his pocket to turn it off.

“You’re the one who’s amazing,” Marinette insisted, recovering some of her composure. “You went out there with no warning and no rehearsal and you didn’t even look scared!”

Luka laughed breathlessly. “Terrified is more like it.”

“It didn’t show. You walked out on that stage like you owned it.” Marinette’s eyes shone and he was pretty sure if his heart beat any faster he would keel over and die. “You’re so brave, Luka!”

“Tell that to my hands,” he muttered, raising them to show her how they shook. “And I’m pretty sure I couldn’t stand right now if my life depended on it.”

Marinette took his hand and laced her fingers through his. “That’s just the adrenaline reaction. That was a huge amount of pressure Luka and you pulled it off!”

Luka let his head drop and closed his eyes, trying to focus on breathing, on trying to slow his heart and calm the blood still singing in his veins to the beat of Jagged’s music that they could still hear, even back here. Marinette freed her hand from his and he felt her move away, but she was back moments later, pressing a cold bottle of water into his hands. He took it gratefully and threw his head back to drink it. He managed to keep himself from chugging, knowing that it would make him sick, and pressed the cool bottle to his forehead, focusing on the cold and the crinkle of the plastic in his fingers.

When he looked back at Marinette she was staring at him with a slightly glazed expression and a healthy blush that did dangerous things to him. Her blush darkened as he stared back at her, and—look away, look away now. Tearing his gaze away felt like ripping out his own heart.

Luka always felt high after performing but this was a whole other level of intensity. He really needed to be somewhere else—anywhere that was not alone with Marinette in a closed room while she was looking at him like that.

“I’m okay now,” he said roughly, standing and pulling her up with him. “Let’s go watch the rest of the show.” She squeaked as he threaded his fingers through hers and they made their way back to their place in the wings.

The only thing he remembered from the rest of the show was the feel of their hands locked together.

He was still in some weird fugue state as they said goodbye to Penny and she let them out of the security door into the night. Luka’s phone was still off but Marinette had been texting to Rose, and she guided him to the rest of the group.

As soon as he spotted them Luka broke into a run, catching up Juleka and swinging her around while she pounded his back. Rose threw herself on them both, and they were only saved from topping over by Marinette hitting them from the other side. Ivan wrapped his arms as far as he could around the whole group and nearly lifted them all off of the ground.

“Okay, okay,” Luka laughed from the center of the pile. “You guys are crushing me here!”

They all peeled away, giggling, and Luka threw an arm each around Juleka and Marinette. “You guys are seriously the best, I mean it,” he said, addressing the whole group. “It was huge, knowing you were out there.”

“Oh, Luka, this is so exciting!” Rose squealed. “You’ll be famous and you’ll get to go on tour and see so many exciting places and meet so many wonderful new people and—“

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, Rose,” Luka laughed. “Let’s hold off on planning the world tour, okay?”

“You really were great,” Mylène said from where she was hanging back, clinging onto Ivan’s shirt tail. She looked a little shy, being the outsider of the group. Luka smiled at her.

“Thanks Mylène. I thought I was going to die once I got off that stage.”

“Did Marinette give you CPR?” Juleka mumbled beside him, and he immediately shifted his arm until he had her in a headlock.

“Somebody better watch her mouth if she wants to meet Jagged Stone anytime soon,” he grumbled, and then immediately released Juleka when he felt her perfectly manicured nails digging threateningly into his arm. “Okay, okay, not the claws, ow!” He knocked into Marinette in his haste to get away from his sister, and only just managed to twist and catch her around the waist before they both tipped over.

“You better come back to earth before someone gets hurt,” Ivan chuckled. “You’re seriously wired, Luka.”

“Sorry, Marinette.” Luka made sure she was steady and then drew away, hoping he wasn’t too red. He’d been kind of all over her all day, he knew, and while she was an affectionate person and hadn’t seemed to mind, he’d better get his act together.

Fortunately Mylène diverted her attention just then with a question he didn’t quite catch and he had a moment to get ahold of himself. Luka stepped slightly away from the group, digging in his pocket for his pick, aware that Juleka immediately moved to block him slightly so he could have a little space.

When he’d calmed himself down a bit, he returned to the group, flashing a quick smile at Juleka. “Lila?” Marinette was saying, in a tone that surprised Luka. “No, we didn’t see her, why?”

Mylène shrugged. “We invited her to come with us, but she said Jagged had already called her and offered to let her watch the show from backstage. Since you were back there too I thought you would have seen her, but I guess it’s pretty crazy backstage.”

Marinette was clearly trying to keep a neutral face, but Luka could sense something negative going on with her. Her voice sounded all kinds of wrong to him, though all she said was, “It was pretty chaotic.”

“Weird, though,” Luka said with a shrug. “I mean there wasn’t all that much room on the sides, and we didn’t see anybody in the lounge before the show. You’d think Jagged would’ve said something if one of your classmates was there.”

There was gratitude he didn’t quite understand in Marinette’s eyes when she looked up at him, but he smiled back at her reassuringly.

“Guys, it’s been awesome, but we gotta go if we’re gonna be home by curfew.” Ivan put his arm around Mylène.

“You’re staying with Rose tonight, right?” Luka asked Juleka, who nodded. “Text me when you get there, okay?” Juleka just gave him a deadpan stare, but Rose winked and nodded. He turned to Marinette. “Can I walk you home?”

“Oh, you don’t need to, I can take care of myself, it’s fine!”

“I know,” Luka smiled down at her as the others began to walk off. “Can I walk you home anyway?”

Marinette blushed prettily. “Sure.”

As soon as they got to the main sidewalk they were caught in the rest of the crowd leaving the venue. After seeing the petite girl nearly get knocked down twice, Luka pulled Marinette in front of him where he could shield her at least a little bit, keeping his hand on her shoulder.

“Sorry,” he muttered in her ear, pulling her a little closer to him. “I’m afraid you’ll get crushed if I let you go.” He steadied her as somebody knocked into them again. “Let’s walk down to the next metro station instead, it should be less crowded there.” Luka kept his head down, hoping no one would recognize him as the guy who’d been called on stage, but no one seemed to be thinking about anything other than getting ahead.

Things did clear out considerably once they were passed the closest stop, and they both breathed a sigh of relief once the crowd had eased. Just as Luka thought they were free and clear, they passed under the light of a street lamp and suddenly he heard a chorus of “Luka!” from across the street. As soon as he looked in that direction he heard a squeal and a small cluster of people came running across the street, giggling as they stopped in front of him.

“It is you, I knew it!” one of them practically cooed, reaching out to twirl one of his blue tips. Luka took a step back, automatically shifting his arm back to move Marinette behind him.

“Sorry, have we met?” he asked, glancing across the group of four girls. They looked close to his age, but he didn’t recognize any of them.

“We saw you on stage,” another one giggled.

Ah, now he understood. He relaxed and smiled back at them. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed the show.”

“You were awesome,” gushed the girl who had touched him. “Could you sign my program?”

Luka blinked. “Sure,” he said, taking the booklet and sharpie she shoved at him. “Thanks for your support. What’s your name?”

“Veronique!”

“That’s pretty.” He smiled at her and signed her program and then the ones the other two passed him.

The last girl, who looked a little older than the others, pouted and opened her eyes wide. “Gosh, I must have lost mine. I don’t have anything for you to sign. Hmmm...” she pressed a finger to her lips thoughtfully. Luka had a feeling he knew where this was going and he was not about to let it get there. Instead he smirked, took her hand and turned it up, and signed the inside of the girl’s wrist. She glanced up at him from beneath her lashes. “Can I get a phone number to go with it?”

“Ah, I’m keeping that top secret for now.” Luka winked. “But you can follow our band, Kitty Section, on Instagram.” He wrote their handle under his name and released her, stepping back. He reached blindly behind him and felt Marinette take his hand. “You ladies have a good night. I’m afraid I have somewhere to be, but I hope we’ll see you at Kitty Section’s next show.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, just waved and pulled Marinette down the sidewalk. “Well that was embarrassing,” Luka muttered, running his free hand through his hair.

“The price of fame?” Marinette suggested, but her smile looked forced.

“At least it was good publicity for the band,” sighed Luka. “They seemed harmless enough, except the one girl. She didn’t really have a creepy stalker vibe, at least.”

“You didn’t seem to mind,” Marinette replied stiffly, and Luka snorted.

“I’ve been playing in bands since I was thirteen, Marinette, mostly with guys older than me, and I’ve picked up a thing or two about how to deal with fans. Although it’s unsettling to be the focus.” He snickered. “Trust me, when it happens to someone else it’s hilarious. The second band I played with, the lead singer was seventeen and gorgeous, and watching him trying to play up his girl fans without getting molested was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.” He glanced at her and smiled to himself as she relaxed. “Besides, I knew you were there to rescue me,” he teased, squeezing her hand. “You always come up with something.”

“Or maybe I would have left you there. I’m beginning to think you’re as bad a flirt as Chat Noir.”

Luka laughed heartily as they went down the metro steps. “I am so much smoother than Chat Noir. I mean, I have nothing but respect for the guy and what he does for the city, but he flirts like he learned all his lines from bad romcoms.”

“I didn’t realize you were such an expert,” Marinette sniffed as they reached the platform, pulling her hand away and folding her arms.

Luka stepped close to her, and then leaned in just a little. “Marinette. Are you going to make me say it? Again?”

She turned a highly satisfying shade of red. “N-now that I know you’re such a master flirt,” she stammered, “Maybe I shouldn’t believe anything you say.”

“Do you know what the difference is between good flirting and bad flirting really is?” He leaned the tiniest bit closer, and lightly tapped the guitar pick around her neck. “Sincerity. I meant every word I said to those girls, and every word I’ve ever said to you.”

She made a strangled, inarticulate noise, and he straightened, not even bothering to hide his smile. He stood next to her on the platform, and shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting for Marinette to regain her power of speech.

As they stood there, Luka remembered their earlier conversation, and glanced sidelong at Marinette. “So...who’s Lila?”

Marinette’s face twisted in distaste.

“Wow, that bad, huh?”

Marinette flushed. “No, I mean, well, she’s...uh…”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he told her. “But you don’t have to pretend, you’re allowed not to like someone. It doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“Popular opinion is against you on that one,” Marinette grumbled, and then she hesitated. “And...she’s Juleka’s friend…”

Luka smiled, and bumped his arm lightly against hers. “I’m not Juleka.”

Marinette sighed, and chewed her lip for a moment, and then her shoulders slumped and she gave him a tired smile. “Honestly, she’s a liar and a manipulator and I don’t really want to ruin this night talking about her. Some other time, okay?”

“Sure,” he said softly, motioning her ahead of him to board the train. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier but you look really cute tonight,” Luka said as they settled in seats.

Marinette made a face. “Jagged called me a punk wanna be.”

Luka chuckled. “I think it’s perfect. It’s fun and still totally you. You should’ve called Juleka and let us do your hair, you’d have been adorable with pink tips.” He reached out and flicked her bangs.

Marinette giggled. “Maybe next time.”

“That’s a cool bag.”

Marinette brightened as she lifted it from her lap. “It’s hand embroidered! My Nonna Gina travels all over the world, and she brought me a shirt back from her last trip for my birthday, only it kinda didn’t fit, so I used it to make this! It doesn’t match my outfit but it’s bigger than my other one so I can fit my smaller sketchbook in it. Oh, I wish you could meet her, you’d love her. She wears a motorcycle and rides a leather jacket and—“ she stopped with a blush and a giggle, realizing she was rambling. “Anyway. She’s really cool.”

“I’d love to meet her sometime,” Luka chuckled. He folded his hands together and leaned forward a little to rest his elbows on his knees.

The weight of the day was finally starting to settle on him. He came to the unsettling realization hat he no longer knew what tomorrow would look like. Marinette has opened this incredible door for him and now he had to figure out how to walk through and keep going—and he wasn’t even sure who would be with him as he did so. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

“Luka?” Marinette leaned into him a little, trying to see his face.

“I’m okay. It’s just...kind of all hitting me at once.”

“Can I help?” Her fingers curled around his upper arm.

“There’s nothing wrong, it’s just...a lot. This whole thing has been like a dream,” he confessed. “It still doesn’t seem real. And I’m not really sure how I’m feeling, to be honest. It’s...scary, the idea that this big dream you have could actually happen, and…is it completely weird and ungrateful not to be sure that you want it? Or maybe I’m just scared of getting so close and then crashing and burning.”

Marinette squeezed his arm. “No, I think that’s totally natural. It’s easy to overlook all the downsides when it’s just a dream. You got a taste of the reality today, some of the bad along with the good, and it’ll probably be worse tomorrow when everyone sees it online or on the news or wherever. And I think that crashing and burning at the worst possible moment is something that every artist fears.”

“You’re an artist, Marinette.”

Her smile was sad. “And I’m a mess. I doubt myself all the time. How could I not, I’m such a disaster. Half the time I can’t even speak clearly. But then, there are moments...well, you remember Adrien, right? His dad is a super famous fashion designer, one of my idols. He sponsored a design contest at my school, and someone copied my design. So I had to stand there and defend my work to the Gabriel Agreste.” She shook her head, eyes going misty. “I killed it, Luka. I was clear and calm and I destroyed Chl-uh, the copycat designer and I won the competition. And those are the moments where I really believe it can happen. Just like when you were up on that stage today. You could have refused to go out there. You could have tried and choked. But you didn’t.” she squeezed his arm again. “You went out there and you slayed that crowd, and you loved every minute of it.”

Luka’s eyes were on his feet but a slow smile spread over his face. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I really did.”

“So hold onto that,” Marinette told him, and he lifted his gaze to hers, a tight feeling in his chest. “If this is what you want, you can totally do it. And if it turns out that it’s not what you want, that’s okay too. I didn't introduce you to Jagged to make you miserable. This is your dream, you get to decide what it looks like.”

What if it looks like you? he thought, mesmerized by her eyes, her earnestness, her kindness, and those perfect pink lips. It just wasn’t fair for her to have such a sweet little mouth.

Marinette stood up quickly. “Oops, this is our stop.”

He spent the rest of the walk out of the metro and up to the bakery trying to talk sense into himself. Sure, she liked him, but she wanted someone else, and yeah, she wasn’t dating Adrien yet, but she didn’t want to date Luka either, and he’d be putting her in a tough spot but he wanted it so badly, and he liked her and she liked him and couldn’t that be good enough for just one minute, it wasn’t like he was proposing marriage—

He opened the side door of the bakery for her and followed her into the relative privacy of the stairwell, still balanced on a knife edge of indecision.

Then she smiled at him. “Thanks for walking me home, Luka.”

Screw it.

“Marinette, can I kiss you?” he asked.

Marinette squeaked, blue eyes wide.

“Listen, I know you’re not ready for anything to change between us,” he continued quickly, “and you might not ever be, and I’m cool with that, I really am. And you can say yes or you can say no and either way it won’t change a thing. I know I’m being selfish asking, but I’m feeling so much after everything today, and I just…” He swallowed, “I just really really want to,” he finished huskily. His whole being hummed with tension. He was too much, he was too intense, he was completely going to freak her out but he couldn’t look away. He reached out to grip the stair rail beside her because he needed to feel the cool metal and the way the edges cut into his palm, but he made sure not to lean into her space, leaving her plenty of room to get away from him if she was uncomfortable.

And then she was looking at him with those soft eyes, the ones that sang to him of “really?” and “why me?” and that heart-stopping “maybe…”

“Okay,” she said quietly, cheeks perfectly pink and shoulders slightly hunched, but smiling.

“You sure?” he couldn’t help asking as he brushed his thumb against the perfect bow of her lips, a thrill skittering through him when she didn’t pull away, only nodded shyly.

He leaned down and kissed her, eyes closing as soon as he felt her plush lips under his. He kept it soft and slow, breath catching slightly when she curled her fingers in his shirt and kissed him back, following his lead easily. His free hand came up to rest against her neck, and Luka felt her shiver at the feel of his fingertips stroking lightly at her nape, his thumb just brushing her jaw. He guided her a little deeper, still slow, still tender and innocent. He was a little shocked at how good it felt. He’d kissed girls before and never really thought it was a big deal, but this…I am in so much trouble. Even caught up in her he could hear the music they made in the mingling of breath, the meeting and parting and meeting again of lips, the flutter of her pulse against his palm. He lingered, lips moving over hers until he felt her begin to pull away, and then straightened with a sigh, stroking her cheek once as he let his hand fall away.

“Wow,” she touched her lips. “Now that...that was a first kiss worth remembering.”

“Yeah,” Luka cleared his throat. “That was...really, really nice.” He raised his eyebrows slightly. “First kiss with me, or…”

Marinette blushed and looked at her feet. “First kiss at all. Um, sort of. It’s complicated? But, yes, if someone asked me about my first kiss, it would definitely be that.”

“I’m honored.” Luka took her hand, cradling it loosely in his, and waited until she looked back up at him. “Thank you for everything today, Marinette. I just...there’s no other words. Thank you.”

The smile she gave him was so full of affection that it hurt. “You deserve it, Luka. You’ve always been so supportive and so good to me, and—well, I’m happy I could do something for you.”

He smiled, and uncurled his white-knuckle grip on the stair rail to back towards the door, her hand sliding out of his as he moved away. “Goodnight Marinette.”

“Goodnight Luka.”

He had to lean against the wall for a moment once he was back outside.

#quickspins #backlog #i'll give you the stars #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #mlfics #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug

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ominousunflower · 4 years

Text

Crazy Composed: Chapter 1

Written for Day 1 (Eye Contact) of @luxyweek

Fic summary: Luka Couffaine is known for his saint-like composure, but five seconds with Xavier-Yves Roth is enough to make him completely lose his cool. And yet, after the two meet again at Le Grand Paris, they somehow find themselves spending more time together—which either means that something is going on between them, or Luka Couffaine has officially gone crazy. (According to his friends, it’s a bit of both.)

Rating: T Word count: 4545

___________________________________

“Thanks for staying to help,” Marinette murmurs to Luka, as she picks up a macaron with a pair of tongs and sets it on a businessman's plate. “I know you only came to the hotel to make a delivery.”

“It’s fine,” Luka says. Pouring another glass of punch, he smiles awkwardly at the businessman, then sets the glass alongside a dozen others. “You needed help, so I’m happy to be here.”

Normally, Luka would stay as far away from a catering event as possible. These sorts of things are always crowded and cramped, loud with chattering, and he tends to prefer quieter, emptier spaces. But the moment he’d walked into the hotel and seen Marinette off to the side wearing a half-smile-half-grimace, he’d resolved to stay and make her job easier.

So far, nothing too bad has happened. From what Marinette has told him, it’s some sort of business conference, which would explain why everyone is wearing suits and ties. Luka feels woefully underdressed in his hoodie and sneakers, but Marinette has assured him that no one will notice what he’s wearing underneath the apron.

The calm shatters when a familiar magenta-haired woman rushes up to the table, slipping between two people in line.

“Oh, Marinette,” Penny says. “Thank goodness. I thought I saw you down here earlier.”

“Penny!” Marinette says, eyes wide. “Um, what is it? Does Jagged need something?”

“There was a meeting earlier with some music folks. Somehow, Jagged and XY ended up in the same room, and…” Penny sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Well, Bob Roth is in another meeting, and neither one of them are listening to me. I assume since you’ve dealt with both of them before…?”

Marinette offers Penny a strained smile. “Say no more! I’ll see what I can do.” She glances at Luka. “Do you want to come? I know you’re a fan of Jagged, but…”

But you got akumatized the last time you spoke to Xavier-Yves Roth and his father. That’s probably what Marinette is too nice to say out loud.

Luka clenches his jaw. “I’ll come with you. Maybe the sight of my face will remind XY to watch himself.” Belatedly, he remembers that Penny is still standing there. He clears his throat. “I’m not going to cause any trouble, I promise.”

Penny just smiles. “I’m sure you two can handle them. Oh, and here—give me that apron, Marinette. I’ll take over while you deal with the problem upstairs.”

Marinette slips off the apron and passes it over to Penny. “What floor?”

“Fourth,” Penny says. “Room 412.”

“Got it.”

Marinette takes off at a sprint toward the elevators, leaving Luka to throw his apron on the table and follow her. They stick to the perimeter of the room, avoiding the crowds of people milling around the center.

“You don’t have to help, you know,” Marinette says, as they wait for the elevator. “I know you and XY aren’t on great terms.”

Luka folds his arms across his chest. He’s used to people thinking that he’s calm and collected, so he doesn’t appreciate the implication that he can’t handle a confrontation with someone who has two letters for a name.

Well, technically it’s just a stage name, but still. How does no one else see how stupid it is?

“I’m fine,” Luka assures her. “I know I didn’t handle things well last time. But I’ve learned from that mistake—I won’t let the Roths get under my skin.”

The elevator dings, and he and Marinette step inside.

Silence falls between them. Now, of all times, Luka is reminded of the fact that Marinette never really responded to his confession. He hasn’t exactly retracted it, and she hasn’t explicitly rejected it, so where do they stand, exactly?

While he’s sure that he still has a crush on her, anyone with half a brain can see that she and Adrien are a perfect match. (Of course, anyone with half a brain could also see that the two of them are probably Ladybug and Chat Noir, so maybe the people of Paris just aren’t that smart.) Luka has a feeling that any romance he starts with Marinette will ultimately lead to her realizing that Adrien is the one for her, and he’s not too interested in being a relationship catalyst.

But Luka is also someone who says what he means, so he’s not going to take back a confession that’s still technically true. Unfortunately, that has resulted in the current awkward silence, where Luka can feel the anxiety rolling off Marinette in waves. No doubt she’s worried that he’ll try to make a move.

Should he say something? No, because what if she’s not thinking that? Then he’ll just seem weird and anxious.

Luka sighs to himself. He wishes that people were easier to understand. Do they really think that his musical talent makes up for the fact that other human beings are a mystery to him? It’s a good cover, he supposes: being able to play a few bars based on a person’s aura, in a smooth way that makes them think he understands them. Why, yes, fellow human, I completely understand you! Listen to this G-major chord! I heard it in your heart.

It’s not a lie, though—Luka does understand emotions. He just doesn’t understand the thoughts that come with them.

Fortunately, Luka’s musings fill up the time it takes to get to Room 412, sparing him from any awkward exchanges with Marinette.

“Yeah, Fang!” an accented voice—unmistakably Jagged Stone’s—yells. “You want this cell phone? Been a while since you had some crunchy technology, huh?”

“Give it back!” another voice whines. Luka rolls his eyes. There’s no question that’s Xavier-Yves Roth.

Marinette glances at Luka, then knocks on the door.

“Why should I give it back?” Jagged snaps. “You were going to post a picture of me with the caption Ragged Stone. I’m not a has-been! I’m rock-‘n-roll!”

Luka sighs. “Is he always like this?”

“Pretty much,” Marinette says. Her foot taps rapidly against the carpeted floor, and she knocks again. “Uh, Jagged! It’s Marinette Dupain—”

The door flies open, and Luka’s sort-of-idol Jagged Stone is standing on the other side, signature guitar slung over his shoulder. “Marinette!” he says, his accent butchering the r in her name. He grabs her shoulder and shoots her a finger gun. “Great! I’m so glad you’re here. Deux-letters here is trying to harass me with his Instagram or whatever. Do me a favor and keep an eye on him? I’m all fired up now, so I need to get a drink or something.”

“Um.” Marinette leans around Jagged and peers inside. “You didn’t actually feed XY’s cell phone to Fang, did you?”

“Nah. I’ve got it right here. I only destroy my property, you know? I’m not a vandal.” Jagged pulls the phone from his pocket and drops it into Marinette’s hand. Then his eyes fall on Luka. “Oh, hey! You’re Marinette’s guitar friend. Luka, right? Sorry for arguing with your mom that one time. You’ve got talent. We should work together sometime! Any friend of Marinette’s is a friend of mine.”

He pats Luka on the shoulder, then squeezes between him and Marinette. Grabbing his guitar, he starts playing it as he walks toward the elevator, filling the hallway with the sound of rock ‘n roll.

Luka stares after him, slightly dazed. “Did he just say he wanted to work with me sometime?”

“He did!” Marinette says. “And he’ll keep his promise, too. Jagged is a good guy.” She purses her lips and puffs out a breath. “But we’ve got a bigger problem.”

“Right,” Luka says, sighing. “Babysitting XY?”

“And Fang,” Marinette says. “Jagged left him here, and I doubt he and XY get along.”

Grimacing, Luka looks through the doorway at Jagged’s pet crocodile. Fang is lounging on a sofa, yellow eyes fixed on XY, who’s draped across an armchair on the other side of the coffee table. XY looks every bit as infuriating as Luka remembers; his lazy pose makes Luka’s fists clench involuntarily.

“Stupid crocodile,” XY says, pouting. He grabs a pillow from behind his back and chucks it at Fang.

Fang growls and catches the pillow in his mouth, his large teeth instantly ripping it to shreds. Soon, all that’s left is a few shreds of fabric and stuffing that have fluttered to the ground.

Luka glares at XY. “Why would you throw something at a crocodile?”

XY shrugs. “It’s just a dumb lizard. Hey, are you room service? I want something to eat.”

Luka deeply inhales through his nose, calling on years of meditation to keep himself calm. “No, I…” He trails off as Fang crawls off the couch and starts plodding toward XY. “Uh.”

Marinette presses XY’s phone into Luka’s hand and rushes forward. “Fang!” she says, in the high-pitched way a person might talk to a puppy. “Hey, there! Who’s a good crocodile?”

Bizarrely, Fang stops and almost seems to smile at her. The song “Never Smile at a Crocodile” plays in Luka’s head, and even though he trusts Marinette to handle things, he can’t help but be slightly concerned.

Marinette pats her thighs and beckons Fang toward her, then starts backing toward a door off to the side. “Fang, do you want a bath? Some nice water? I bet that would feel nice. Why don’t we get you in the bath while we wait for Jagged?”

Apparently bath and Jagged are two of the words Fang knows, because he changes course and walks after Marinette to the bathroom.

“That was unbelievably stupid,” Luka tells XY.

“What do you mean?” XY says, waving a hand as he stares at the carpet. He doesn’t even have the decency to make eye contact with Luka when they’re talking. “Your girlfriend’s got it handled. I figured she would.”

“She’s not my—never mind. I’m not talking to you. It will just make me angry.”

Luka folds his arms across his chest and scans the room, waiting for Marinette to finish drawing Fang’s bath. He can hear the sound of running water echoing from the bathroom, though the noise isn’t as soothing as it could be when he knows it’s for a crocodile bath.

“How am I making you angry?” XY asks. “I’m just sitting here.”

It’s the WAY you’re sitting, Luka almost says, before he realizes how dumb that sounds. Instead, he just shrugs and stares at what little he can see of the bathroom through the open door. All he can make out is Marinette’s shoe and a giant crocodile tail, but it’s better than looking at XY’s face.

“Hey, can I have my phone?” XY asks.

“Why are you asking me?” Luka snaps.

“Because you’re holding it?”

Luka glances down at his hand, where sure enough, he is holding the phone Marinette gave him. The case is covered in some sort of obnoxious bling that makes Luka’s eyes burn. “Oh. Sorry.” Luka crosses over to XY’s chair and holds out the phone. “Here.”

XY grabs it from his hand without looking at him. “Thanks.”

Immediately, XY’s phone starts beeping, and a second later, an alarm tone goes off on Luka’s own cell phone. He digs it out of his pocket and sighs.

“What was that?” Marinette asks, running out of the bathroom with water dripping from her hands.

“Akuma alert,” Luka says flatly.

If his suspicions are correct, he knows exactly how this is about to go.

Marinette squeaks. “I, um—have to—macarons! Penny has no idea how to hold the macarons, and I…need to…go teach her.” She sprints across the room and pauses in the doorway, shifting from one foot to the other. “I’m really sorry, Luka. I hate to leave you two—”

“Go ahead,” Luka says, trying not to sound too resigned. “I know the…uh, macarons are important.”

With a nod, Marinette runs into the hallway and pulls the door shut behind her.

Luka wanders across the room to glance out the ornate hotel window. From this spot on the fourth floor, he can see part of the Place des Vosgues, along with some familiar houses and stores.

As he looks outside, though, he can feel eyes on him. It’s hard to describe—similar to when he senses a person’s mood—but someone is definitely staring at him.

Praying that it is not a hungry crocodile, he slowly turns around.

XY’s blue eyes are fixed on him, staring out from beneath his ridiculous blond hair. His brow is creased ever so slightly, almost with an expression of trepidation. But, well, why would XY be afraid of Luka? Luka’s the one whose career could be ended in an instant by XY’s capricious father. Luka doesn’t have the power to do anything to XY.

Luka stares back, hoping that XY gets the message. Don’t mess with me or my friends.

XY nods slowly and goes back to fiddling with his phone.

Luka’s fingers itch for his guitar, but of course, he didn’t bring it with him, since he thought this would be a quick delivery stop. Mirroring XY, he pulls out his own phone and pulls up his contacts. Surely there’s someone he can text to pass the time…

Adrien Agreste’s name stares back at him from the top of the list. Luka considers it—Adrien is pretty fun to talk to, and would definitely sympathize with Luka’s current plight—but then he realizes that if Adrien is Chat Noir, he’s probably busy fighting the akuma right now.

XY clears his throat. “Uh, you play bass?”

Luka scrolls further through his contacts, because surely XY isn’t talking to him. But when he glances up, XY’s eyes are fixed on him again.

“Me?” Luka says. “I play guitar.”

“Right,” XY says. “That’s the one with six strings.”

Luka barely resists rolling his eyes. “Yeah.”

XY doesn’t respond, so Luka goes back to his phone. He pulls up the Ladyblog and skims it for updates: apparently the akuma is some sort of food-themed monster stomping throughout the city, and Ladybug has yet to summon her Lucky Charm. Based on past data, Alya has projected the battle to last twenty minutes, and advises civilians to stay inside to avoid being trampled.

Really, though, wouldn’t it be better outside? XY isn’t outside. Luka will gladly risk getting crushed by an angry hamburger man if it means escaping this awkwardness.

“And you, uh,” XY says. “You’re in that cat band?”

Luka sighs, keeping his eyes on his phone. “Kitty Section, yeah.”

He braces himself for some taunt about the name—which Luka will fiercely defend, because cats are excellent, thank you very much—but instead XY just says, “Oh, that rings a bell.”

“It should,” Luka says, gritting his teeth, “since we’re the band you and your father stole from.”

“Stole is kind of harsh,” XY says. “I prefer inspired by.”

Luka glares at him. “Is that a joke?”

XY shrugs.

“Have you ever had an original musical thought?” Luka asks, before he can stop himself.

To his frustration, XY gives another shrug. “Eh. Everything’s unoriginal, you know?”

Technically, that’s true, and Luka would agree if the phrase was coming from an actual artist. But it’s coming from XY. Scowling, Luka says, “There’s a difference between unoriginal and plagiarized, you know.”

In Luka’s head and in front of his bathroom mirror, he’s played out this scenario dozens of times, and in those imaginary conversations, he has said much more insulting things to XY. Of course, Luka would never actually say any of those cruel things…but XY is testing his patience.

When he thinks about it, though, XY hasn’t done anything wildly offensive today, except make very unwanted small talk. And that’s infuriating in its own way. Luka wishes he would do something bad, so that his irritation felt more justified.

“Yeah, sorry,” XY says. “I didn’t realize that was illegal.”

“It’s not the illegal part that bothers me,” Luka says. He wonders if he should even bother trying to explain what’s actually wrong. “It’s that my friends and I worked hard on that song, and Marinette worked hard on those costumes, and your father threatened us and undermined our work. But it makes sense that legality is all you two are concerned about. After all, you can’t make as much money if your father is in jail.”

He bites down on his tongue the moment the words are out. Does XY just bring out the worst in Luka? Or does Luka have less self-control than he thought?

“I mean, yeah, we wouldn’t want to get sued,” XY says. He’s now tossing a TV remote up and down, catching it with one hand. He won’t meet Luka’s eyes, which might be for the better; if he did, he’d see Luka’s brief moment of guilt over snapping at him. “Besides, coming up with stuff is hard.”

“So you understand why we were upset,” Luka says slowly.

What, exactly, did he do to deserve this conversation? Is it the fact that he’s flirted with both Marinette and Adrien? Is the universe somehow blaming him for keeping those two apart? Because, if so, that’s wildly unfair. Marinette and Adrien could be the last two people on earth, and they’d still find a way to be oblivious about their feelings for each other.

“You could have been flattered,” XY says. “We thought your stuff was good enough to steal—um, borrow. Or…yeah.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” Luka asks in disbelief.

Maybe XY is wearing noise-cancelling earbuds that Luka can’t see. Maybe that’s how he manages to be so utterly tone-deaf.

“Yeah,” XY says. “Why? Am I talking too loud?”

Luka sighs. “You’re surrounded by music. You perform all the time. You must be able to come up with something on your own.”

Distantly, he thinks maybe he should give up on this conversation. He’s wasting his energy on XY. There are some people who just don’t get it, and this wouldn’t be the first time Luka has exhausted himself for a lost cause. (For instance: trying to convince his mother that maybe some laws are worth following for the public good, and that it might be a bad idea to install actual cannons on the Liberty.)

“Maybe,” XY says with another shrug. Luka thinks his shoulders must be pretty toned from all the shrugging he does. “But why bother, you know? The computers write lyrics and tunes that people like. Guaranteed success. Seems stupid to write my own stuff.”

If success was all that mattered when it came to music, maybe—and for XY and his father, that’s probably the case.

Luka’s curiosity gets the best of him, and he asks, “Have you ever tried to write your own songs?”

“Yeah, once.”

Luka frowns. Is this the set-up for a joke? Is there a punchline? XY doesn’t seem clever enough to set up a joke, given that Ragged Stone was the best insult he could come up with.

XY stops tossing the remote and holds it in his hand, fiddling with the buttons. “When I was eleven, I wrote a few songs and showed them to my dad.” Luka almost asks, Then why didn’t you keep doing that? but XY answers him in the next breath. “He said they were garbage. And I mean, he’d know, right? He’s, like, a music genius.”

Luka has doubts about how much of a music genius Bob Roth is, but he supposes it makes sense that eleven year-old XY would think that. Even now, XY probably conflates success and money with ingenuity.

But Luka’s mind is hung up on one word, blaring in his ears on repeat: GARBAGE.

Luka doesn’t want to have sympathy for XY. Sometimes, people are just rude and nasty, and they don’t deserve Luka’s pity. Unbidden, though, his brain is conjuring up a scene: a little blond kid with less-ridiculous hair, wide-eyed and hopeful, showing his father his songs—only to be told that they’re horrible.

Maybe that’s not how it went down. Maybe XY didn’t care about the rejection. But Luka has a feeling that, deep under XY’s blaisé exterior, he still remembers the pain of being told that his creations were worthless.

Damn it. Now Luka has sympathy for XY.

“That’s ridiculous,” Luka says. He tells himself that he’s just angry on behalf of a fellow musician—because technically, XY is a fellow musician. “I can only imagine if my mom told me that my songs were garbage when I was eleven. I mean, they probably weren’t that good, but—”

“Your songs?” XY interrupts. Luka’s sympathy ebbs, replaced by the irritation he feels every time XY opens his mouth. Luka shouldn’t have mentioned his own music; now XY is going to criticize it, and of course his opinion doesn’t mean anything, but Luka will still be annoyed. “Nah, I don’t believe that. Your music’s good.”

It’s certainly not the most glowing compliment Luka has ever received, and it’s delivered with a shrug—and yet, Luka finds his cheeks warming slightly at the comment. Maybe because he never expected XY to actually compliment someone besides himself.

“Have you…heard my music?” Luka asks.

“Just the one song you played on that broadcast. The one we tried to…” XY trails off, and Luka stares at the side of his head, silently demanding him to finish the sentence. “You know.” Frowning, XY tosses the TV remote onto the sofa where Fang was previously sitting. “At least my dad thought your music was good enough to use.”

Luka winces. “I’m sorry.”

The moment the words leave his mouth, he can’t believe he said them. Did he just tell XY that he feels sorry for him?

“Don’t be sorry that you’re good,” XY says. “He knows talent when he sees it, right?”

“But that’s—that’s stupid,” Luka says, taking a step toward the couch. XY doesn’t look up at him. “Your father should have encouraged your music, or helped you to make it better. He shouldn’t have just—” He growls. “I’m not a big fan of him, so of course I’m not surprised, but that’s still unfair.”

XY tilts his head toward Luka, though he still doesn’t quite make eye contact. “So you’re a fan of me, then?”

“No,” Luka says flatly.

XY nods, seeming unbothered. “Anyway, that’s cool. No one’s ever gotten mad for me. Well, my dad yells at people to make them do things for me, I guess. Does that count?”

Luka resists the urge to facepalm. The way XY says such spoiled things so casually—is this how Adrien feels, dealing with Chloé all the time? Then again, Adrien and Chloé are friends, and Luka and XY certainly aren’t.

Although, if Adrien can be friends with Chloé, does that mean Luka could befriend someone like…?

No. Luka refuses to consider it. He’s not getting involved with someone this rude and high-maintenance. People might think Luka has the patience of a saint, but in fact, he does not. And why would he take XY under his wing, after he and his father tried to screw over Kitty Section? XY’s personal issues aren’t Luka’s problem, and it’s certainly not his responsibility to nurture XY’s creative side.

Xavier-Yves Roth is young, Luka’s conscience says. Of course he makes mistakes. His brain isn’t fully developed yet.

Neither is mine, Luka thinks back. Which is probably why I’m even considering something this stupid.

“You know,” Luka says slowly. “If you…did write another song, and wanted to run it by someone…”

XY is silent for a moment, and then he finally looks up at Luka with a quizzical expression. “You? You’ve never sold albums or topped a chart. You wouldn’t have any useful feedback.”

Ah. Yes. This is why Luka wasn’t going to get involved with XY. Luka sympathized with XY for having his father tell him his offerings were worthless—and then XY turned around and said the same insensitive thing to Luka.

So what if Luka hasn’t topped the charts with an album full of banal, soulless songs? At least he makes music he’s passionate about.

It occurs to Luka that XY isn’t looking at him with scorn in his eyes. He just looks confused, which means he doesn’t even realize that what he just said was insulting.

Since Luka is feeling charitable—and XY’s words are meaningless—he decides to shrug off the comment. “I’m not interested in songs that sell,” Luka says. “I was just offering a second set of ears.”

“Oh.” XY blinks. “I don’t really see what’s in it for me…but, yeah, I guess it could be good practice for you. You know, learning how to work with someone in the industry.”

This is not worth it, Luka thinks. You will gain nothing from helping him.

Be a charitable person, his conscience insists. Do something good without expecting anything in return.

Luka snorts to himself. He’s already helped Ladybug and Chat Noir save Paris several times as Viperion. Isn’t that enough charity for the year?

“What’s so funny?” XY asks.

“Nothing,” Luka says. “I was thinking of something else. I’ll…keep your offer in mind.”

“Sure,” XY says, going back to his phone. “I’m not usually this generous, so, you know—it’s a special offer. I bet a lot of people would be jealous.”

Luka sighs. XY might not know much about music, but he’s certainly talented at infuriating people.

Before Luka manages to think of a response that doesn’t involve scathing sarcasm, there’s a loud knock on the door.

“Luka? XY? It’s Marinette!”

Luka rushes over to the door, checking his phone as he does. According to the Ladyblog, the akuma was defeated about a minute ago.

He opens the door and Marinette runs inside, panting. “Sorry, the, uh—the…”

“Macarons,” Luka supplies.

“Right! Yes,” Marinette says. “But then I got distracted, and, uh—there was an akuma, did you hear? Crazy! I mean, not crazy, because Paris has had a lot of akumas, but, you know…”

“I’m glad you’re back,” Luka says.

Marinette nods, then leans forward and whispers, “How was XY?”

Luka shrugs. “About what you’d expect.”

That feels a bit disingenuous, though. Because XY isn’t quite what Luka expected. Yes, his attitude is infuriating, and he oozes upper-class shallowness—but Luka’s starting to realize that there might be a reason that XY acts the way he does.

Not that Luka intends to stick around long enough to find out.

XY groans and stands. “I guess that lame rock star isn’t coming back for his dumb lizard. You two can watch him. I’m going downstairs to get food or something.”

He crosses the room and brushes past Luka and Marinette without a word. His eyes meet Luka’s as he leaves—and there it is, again, that look of almost wariness.

Then he shrugs and leaves, and Luka and Marinette are alone with a crocodile in a bathtub.

“Thanks for not feeding him to the crocodile,” Marinette says.

“Yeah, well.” Luka shrugs. “I didn’t want to give my favorite rock star’s pet indigestion.”

A second later, they hear a grunt and a crack, followed by a tidal-wave splash; and for the moment, at least, Luka’s thoughts of Xavier-Yves Roth are forgotten.

#luxy #luxyweek2k20 #ml fic #ml fanfiction #luka couffaine #xy roth #xavier-yves roth #miraculous ladybug #my fic

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wardencommanderrodimiss · 4 years

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baratrongirl replied to your post “Really do not understand why GameFreak took out the Hall of Fame...”

I'd be interested to hear what you don't like about Sword/Shield. For me, it's quite the opposite. I played the hell out of the 3rd and 4th Gens, then struggled to finish White and didn't buy White 2. Didn't finish SoulSilver, or whichever of X or Y I got, and became completely bored about 10 hours into Alpha Sapphire despite being all motivated to play the game with my original Sapphire team only now I know what I'm doing. Didn't even BUY Sun/Moon.

Then I hung out with my Pokemon friends over Sword/Shield launch weekend, watched them playing on the TV, and had to immediately borrow a spare Switch so I could play too. By the end of the weekend I'd bought the Switch and paid to download my own copy of Shield. I have a few issues with it, mostly relating to the lack of clothing options for male characters, but otherwise I'm finding it the blast of fresh air that I needed to get back into the Pokemon games.

I’ve heard a lot of people say something similar, that SwSh was a nice upgrade from the past couple gens. I started slipping around XY - didn’t wanna buy a 3DS and didn’t until Omega Ruby came out, since Ruby was the first one I’d played - and after I finished the Team Flare plot of X I just gave up for three years and only last year finished the 8th gym and the league. I honestly don’t remember much of playing OR. I think it was a weird kind of frantic nostalgia-fueled haze but I genuinely cannot comment on what I liked about that game. It’s a blank in my memory. Really enjoyed Sun and Moon, like Sword but get bummed the longer I think about it. But I did buy it because I did see a ton of people saying it was a change they were enjoying, quality-of-life upgrades, fun new features, etc. Different strokes and all.

My biggest gripe on Sword is that the world feels pretty empty. Besides the Wild Area, and its few secluded corners, though it’s really a straightforward place, there’s nothing to explore. The plot grabs you by the hand and pulls you to every location. There’s nothing off-the-way that you don’t go to for the main plot. There’s nothing like Kanto’s Power Plant, or Alola’s Power Plant - which I didn’t even realize was there on my first pass through, and then I was like “hey what’s this little place, OH MY GOD WHAT THERE’S MORE STUFF HERE.” The region is a linear loop. There’s no weird little caves that aren’t plot relevant that you get scrambled up in. There’s nowhere that’s locked until you beat the League, like the other half of Poni Island or those last upper bits in Unova or the Battle Frontier in Sinnoh. I had canvassed the Wild Area for everything by the time I went to the final tournament. There’s nowhere else to go. Sure I went back through the Wild Area to catch more stuff to fill out my Pokedex, but new places? Nothing. There’s nowhere to go back to once you can cross water except the little lake by the professor’s house. Not like in Sun/Moon where there’s bits on prior islands to go back to with Lapras. That cave underneath the starting island to go check out I’m thinking of. Galar is a pretty bare-bones region and the Wild Area doesn’t fully compensate.

Which ties to my other biggest gripe, which is, there are three legendary Pokemon in the game and one of them is the opposite version’s exclusive that you can’t get. Two legendary Pokemon! Two legendary Pokemon you can catch! And you catch them both in the course of the plot! There’s nothing like the Regi trio hidden by batshit puzzles, or Cobalion/Terrakion/Virizion tucked in out-of-the-way corners. No wandering Lati@s or beast trio. No Tapus or anything. You can catch two legendary Pokemon.

I think we really peaked back in Gen 3 with its visual Braille puzzles and Gen 4 with whatever the everloving fuck the Turnback Cave was on about. The weird locations that hurt your brain. I miss those. I miss the tricky caves you get lost in and spend time figuring it out. Galar didn’t have caves. The mines were basically a straight shot, yknow? When I’d like to go deeper and have more to explore instead of feeling like I’m taking a walking tour of the whole region.

And the DLC looks like it’ll deal at least with that point with more legendaries, which really grinds my gears. In all the discourse about whether or not the DLC is good or bad or neutral, whether the price of video games has needed to go up or the DLC is cheaper than a third version but some people wait for the third version, which I didn’t seek out said discourse but saw pass me by on Twitter, I saw no one mention that we’re paying to get more than two legendary Pokémon and I felt like I was losing my mind for a little while there. I feel like I’m paying extra for something that’s been in every game since the beginning of time, that being more than two legendary Pokémon that I can catch.

And my lesser little gripes: level balance of the game felt a little wonky with the wild Pokemon toward the end higher leveled than all the trainers except Leon, and the always-on exp share made it worse because when I dragged out the plot by catching everything in the Wild Area, my team got way overleveled for the back half of the game and I could curbstomp everyone that passed me. Team Yell were an egregious roadblock and while Pokemon has always had those, the prominence of Team Yell was exasperating. I prefer environmental roadblocks, like water and back when we used to have other HMs, those feel a little better than two dudes standing in the middle of a wide road.

And why, oh WHY, did GameFreak downgrade after XY and only have fitting rooms in boutiques instead of also in Pokemon Centers? I don’t want to fly to another town to change my clothes! Not every town has a clothes shop but everywhere has a Pokemon Center! I was crusading on this point through Sun/Moon and I will not be stopped until GameFreak puts changing rooms back in Pokemon Centers! (They will probably never do that but I refuse to stop. Forget Dexit; this is the real issue of our time.)

I didn’t mind the limited Pokémon at release because I never transfer my teams thru the games anyway - I’m a sentimental anxious idiot afraid of decisions and commitment and I can’t commit to the one-way transfers to move my teams up to new games. And that plus the Wild Area having trade-evolution Pokemon walking around made me feel like completing my pokedex was actually attainable. So I did!

I don’t hate the game, but I am disappointed by it. I’ve never been a Battle Tower or shiny-hunting person, but I’ve ended up doing those because I don’t know what else to do.

So that’s my opinion on why SwSh has bummed me out more as time goes on, since you were curious.

(Joker from Mass Effect 2 when you ask him for gossip about your teammates voice: “But that’s just my opinion, no need to go spreading it around.” ;) I’ll gladly chat with friends but the poke-discourse got too intense on twitter and I am not inviting that kind of bad energy into our lives. None of us deserve that.)

I’ve still got a lot of endgame stuff for Sun and Moon, UB hunting and I haven’t made it to the Battle Tree yet because my Moon team is getting its ass kicked by everything because I turned the exp share off and overcompensated in the wrong direction and am chronically underleveled. There’s a certain charm for me in being underleveled because I used to have endless patience to overlevel my team to extremes because my childhood anxiety was something like “if I die in the game I die in real life???” and I was terrified of losing and now I’m like “blacks out twice in a row in Moon as I go toward the postgame stuff yolo”. So when I feel like playing Pokemon I’ll probably spend more time in Alola, when I’m not trying to hatch that damn shiny Rookidee because I accidentally committed to that.

#baratrongirl #replies #the thing swsh did REALLY well is the characters. lots of memorable gym leaders #......-stares at hundred screenshots of leon on my switch- no i dont have a crush its FINE

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andrewmoocow · 4 years

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Steven Universe: The Fantastic Mutants Chapter 1: Fantastically Uncanny (originally posted on January 1, 2020)

AN: After going back to the past to explore the history of Thanos, we finally jump back to the future with this latest and long-awaited installment of the Marvel Gems Universe in the all-new Heavy Metal Trilogy! I'm your darling author Lightyearpig, and we're finally back in business baby! Just as a disclaimer, this takes place a few weeks after Change your Mind which unfortunately means no references to the movie or Spinel. Tragic, I know. But without further ado, let the return of the Crystal Gems commence!

"So nice of you to take us in professor." Rose Quartz thanked a young Charles Xavier as they, along with Garnet, Amethyst & Pearl strolled through his mansion home in Westchester County, New York during the year 1963. "I empathize so deeply with your desires for harmony between humans and mutants. Both your kinds are just so intriguing to me." "And I find Gems a peculiar topic as well." Xavier remarked with a smile. "I have to admit, I find myself endearing to your plights against those Diamonds thousands of years ago. Do you believe they could strike again?" he asked. "I don't think so. Ever since the end of the rebellion, Earth has been in relative peace for millenniums." Garnet responded adjusting her shades. "However, they could strike again if any deeper knowledge of the Crystal Gems reach them." "So Xy, got any cool stuff to show us? Or are we just gonna keep walking around and talking about junk?" Amethyst asked casually. "Amethyst, be polite!" Pearl gently scolded the smaller Gem, but Charles laughed warmly. "No need to be so concerned Pearl." the professor stated. "But there is one thing I've been working on for the past few years. Please, follow me." Xavier lead the Gems to his office, where he pressed a button hidden inside a bust of Martin Luther King Jr. and opened a secret elevator hidden behind a bookshelf. "Right this way now girls." he commanded stepping into the elevator and the Gems followed. The lift slowly creeped down the passageway and then finally stopped at a sub-basement inhabited solely by a helmet and computer-like device, both connected to a large electronic brain hovering above them. "This is what I call Cerebro." Xavier explained. "It's still a work in progress, but one day I can use this to search for mutants around the world and take them in as both my students & future heroes." "Mind if you give us a demonstration?" Rose asked. "I never thought you'd ask." Charles proclaimed sitting down at the computer and putting on the helmet. -- Years later, a far older, wheelchair-bound Xavier took off the helmet in a more modern looking Cerebro room while Wolverine and Mister Fantastic stood by him. "You sure this is still the one Logan?" Professor X asked the Canadian mutant. "I'm sure of it Chuck." Logan replied. "Just say the word and we'll all be there in a jiff." "I would like to research this boy sometime." Reed Richards commented gazing at a video image of Steven Universe conjured up by Xavier's machine. With a press of his temple, the professor telepathically gave out his orders. "To me, my X-Men!"

-- "So what was that Universe child like Logan?" the field leader of the X-Men Scott Summers, aka Cyclops asked Wolverine while the mutant team flew out to Beach City on the Blackbird. "Real energetic little squirt who sees the good in a ton of people, even Thanos." Wolverine answered. "Got a bunch of crazy friends too, like this big square lady who's literally just a pair of tiny girlfriends in a trenchcoat, a purple midget with a whip, some bird woman who had the hots for his dead mom when she was alive, etc." "My stars and garters, what an interesting bunch." the beastly researcher Hank McCoy commented. "Heads up gang, we should be landing in Beach City any moment now." their current pilot Angel, aka Warren Worthington III, announced as the jet got closer. "Please keep arms and legs within your seats as we begin touchdown. Okay Wolvie, where to?" "Just be on the lookout for a beach house jammed into the big statue of a giant woman near the beach, that's all." Logan ordered sitting down in his seat and looking out the window. "See, there it is!" he exclaimed pointing at that very beach house in the distance, only it was very different from when he last saw it. Since he last departed Beach City after the battle with Thanos, the house now had a second floor in construction process connecting to a barely-finished crystal dome, larger windows at the front and two flags outside of it. When the X-Men touched down on the beach close to the beach house, he got a better look at the flags to discover that one of them symbolized Earth while the other was colored yellow, blue, white and pink. "Whew, talk about a chic place!" the cryokinetic Bobby Drake, better known as Iceman, whistled while gazing at the house. "You told us he was just some kid with crazy alien powers!" "Bob, there's so much you don't know about these Gems yet." Logan declared placing a hand on his comrade's cold shoulder when the door opened and out of it came Steven himself. "Hi Wolverine! We weren't expecting you to come back after helping us stop Thanos!" the half-Gem boy greeted the savage mutant. "And are those the X-Men?! Awesome!" "We just need to talk squirt!" Logan hollered back from below the front porch. "And also, WHAT THE F-" -- "You're just worried that I can survive that." Wolverine snarled while hand soap slowly dripped out his mouth. "So you were saying that your dead mom was secretly a space warlord who ditched her home planet for Earth because she was sick of the other Diamonds treating her like shit?" "That's basically it, yeah." Amethyst commented. Also since Wolverine first left Beach City, the Crystal Gems had changed in appearance as well. Garnet's visor had turned orange while the top part resembled a star, the bottom part of her torso was split between red & blue and had copper & tin wedding rings on her fingers. Amethyst now had a black top exposing her gemstone, jean shorts with black stars on them and her boots were white. And Pearl had gained a cyan blazer with shoulder-pads over a teal blue top, indigo leggings and pink flats. But it was the newer members of Crystal Gems that changed the most. Peridot's visor was now a larger butterfly shape, she proudly wore her stars on her chest & knees and her socks were now chartreuse yellow boots. Lapis had doffed a skirt entirely in favor of dark-blue sweatpants held up by a gold ribbon, her top had the upper portion of a star on it and she now had golden sandals on. And Bismuth was now clad in a black vest-like garment over a strapless red apron while her boots & pants remained unchanged. "Well, good to know." Cyclops stated standing at attention before Steven. "Greetings young Mr. Universe. I am Scott Summers, also known as X-Men leader Cyclops." Scott introduced himself. "My team and I have arrived at your homestead with an offer to better your skills under the tutelage of our superior Professor Charles Xavier." "Wait, you mean Chuck?!" Amethyst exclaimed. "Aw, it's been ages since we last saw him! How's he been?" she asked. "Since he last met you Crystal Gems, he took us in as his students before becoming paralyzed and confined to a wheelchair." Cyclops's lover & second in command Jean Grey responded. "I'm Jean Grey." she introduced herself as well. "These are the rest of our graduating class; Iceman, Angel and Beast. And I'm sure you're already familiar with Wolverine." "Anyone wanna tell me who this newbie is?" Logan asked standing next to a green one-eyed Gem with white hair and a pink diamond on her chest dressed in light green coattails. "Forgive me sir, my name is Nephrite." the new Gem introduced herself. "Honorary member of the Crystal Gems at your service!" "She was the first corrupted Gem we fought and as such, one of the first we fully healed." Garnet briefed Howlett. "She's here today because we're in the process of building a place for all former Gem monsters to call home, just like her." "So kind of like our headquarters, where we train mutants from across the globe to become the next generation of heroes." Jean stated. "Wait, there's more of you?" Bismuth asked the telepath quizzically. "I suppose you must've been unaware for some reason." the scarlet-locked mutant guessed correctly while using her mutant powers to read the blacksmith's mind. "Oh you bet I was!" Bismuth replied. "Just a simple case of being bubbled and stuck in a lion's mane due to...disagreements, shall we say." "You mean this creature?" Beast asked observing Lion as he sniffed his blue fur. "How can it be possible? Surely the mane of a normal lion cannot contain anything at maximum length!" Steven however answered Dr. McCoy's questions by sticking his hand inside the mane. "My word, I must learn more!" "Hey Steven, just came by today to help with construct-" Connie announced stepping into the beach house expecting the Gems to accept her help. They were present, but were too preoccupied by a group of mutants investigating them including a blue-furred man holding Lion by the sides. "Not even going to ask." "Am I the only one getting some weird deja vu?" Lapis pondered. "Oh you bet! All we need now is a black hole bomb made out of kitchen things!" Peridot replied with a snicker. "Oh hey Connie, I'd like you to meet the X-Men." Steven introduced his swordfighting friend to the merry mutants. "You must be the friend of Steven I've heard Logan talk about." Cyclops commented shaking the girl's hand. "I am Cyclops. Me and my teammates are here today to test Steven and see if he's got what it takes to be a student of Xavier." "Oh cool! Let me guess, you have a flying machine outside on the beach to take us to your HQ?" Connie asked. "That's how the last few superheroes came to see us." "You are very spot-on young lady." Beast declared opening the door for everyone to leave. "Come now, we have much to discuss in Westchester!" The Crystal Gems exited the beach house where the Blackbird awaited them on the sand outside. "Oh my gosh, your ship looks so cool!" Steven cried out in excitement. "Can I sit in the front?" "Surely. Anything Steven." Scott kindly accepted when they boarded the X-Men's jet and allowed the boy to take one of the front seats closest to the pilot's section while the other Crystal Gems, plus Lion, simply stood around. "Well aren't you just a lucky boy?" Amethyst quipped while leaning against Iceman's seat. "Getting to ride shotgun with the big cheese of the X-Men." "Though I'm not sure if we're ready to let Steven leave Beach City to better his powers." Pearl stated with concern when Beast put a hand on her shoulder. "Do not worry my dear, he's in good hands." Hank declared. "Or maybe not." Garnet announced adjusting her shades. "I fear something bad could happen to him while at your mansion." "Yeesh, Captain Ominous here. Am I right?" Angel snarked as the Blackbird finally took off, heading towards Westchester and zooming away from Beach City. Down below, Greg was ready to drive up to the Temple in his van when he saw the Blackbird flying overhead. "I wonder what bizarre adventures Steven is getting into this time?" he muttered as the jet vanished from sight. -- "And that, children, is how you land a fastball special." the metal-skinned Russian mutant Piotr Rasputin, aka Colossus, declared to a classroom full of young mutants in the Xavier Institute of Higher Learning for Gifted Youngsters. The school was established by the genius to better the skills of the young mutants, build them to be the next generation of heroes and inspire his motto of peace between humans & mutants within them. When the X-Men were not fighting the forces of evil, many of them spent time teaching classes, and Colossus, the leader of the Gold team of X-Men, was no different. "Now then, any questions?" Piotr asked his pupils when one of them raised his hand. "Yes, Mr. Collins?" he stated. "Have you noticed that Kitty's head is poking out of the board?" Russell Collins asked, bringing attention to Rasputin's fellow X-Man Kitty Pryde popping her head out with her phasing abilities, inciting giggles from the class. "Bozhe moy!" Colossus exclaimed in surprise. "I didn't see you there Kitty! What brings you here?" "I came because Emma told me to tell you that Cyclops and the others are coming back." Kitty announced. "Uzhe?!" Piotr muttered before turning to his class. "My apologies students, I have other matters to attend to." he apologized to his pupils as he walked out the door. "Be sure to keep studying everyone!" -- In the foyer of the mansion, the X-Men assembled to welcome back their six famous teammates and gemlike guests. On one side were the Blue Team of mutants. Aside from Cyclops, Jean, Hank, Angel, Iceman & Wolverine, they included the weather-wielding Storm, power-stealing Southern belle Rogue, charming card-tosser Gambit, implike teleporting Nightcrawler, fireworks-tossing Jubilee, the disappearing Shadowcat & her pet dragon Lockheed and the tracker Warpath. On the other side was the Gold Team led by Colossus. By his side were the beautiful telepath Emma Frost, Wolverine's clone daughter X-23, Colossus's younger sister Magik, the fire-wielder Firestar, solar-powered Sunspot, pop singer Dazzler, wisecracking shapeshifter Morph, living rocket Cannonball, lava-generating Magma and the other teleporter Blink. Professor Xavier psychically lifted his wheelchair down the stairs and planted himself on the floor to look at the Crystal Gems. "Today my fellow mutants, we welcome some old friends of mine into our school." he announced. "I'd like to thank Logan here for pointing us in their direction." Wolverine simply rolled his eyes before lighting up a cigarette to smoke. "Without Wolverine, our eyes wouldn't have been opened to the potential of young Steven Universe here as both a student of my school and a potential X-Man as well." Xavier finished his speech with a grin. "Now then everyone, introduce yourselves." "Yo Chuck, it's been ages! How ya been?!" Amethyst excitedly greeted the professor. "Why Amethyst, so good to see you again too." Xavier replied tousling the smaller Gem's hair. "It seems that all three of you have changed quite a bit since we last met." he added looking at Garnet and Pearl. "Along with new additions to your ranks as well." "Astounding! Some humans can choose not to use their gravity connectors!" Peridot exclaimed gazing at the mutant's wheelchair. "And they can also choose to not have hair as well!" Xavier gave a warm chuckle and patted Peridot on her three-sided head. "Quite an observant one, isn't she?" "So what's up with the whole no-hair business?" Lapis asked Charles. "It's just old age my dear." the professor stated while gazing at Steven and Connie meeting the rest of the X-Men. "So you're basically Wolverine's clone?" Connie asked X-23. "Yeah, pretty much." Laura replied deadpan. "And I'm also sort of his daughter as well." "Whoa, you have a pet dragon?!" Steven gasped in amazement while Lockheed perched himself on his shoulder. "Well, Lockheed is more of a weird alien dragon, but you get the point." Kitty replied earnestly. "Which reminds me, can I get a look at your lion?" Without Steven even asking him to, Lion walked towards Kitty Pryde and stared at her for a few moments before bowing his head, allowing her to pet him. "Aw, he's a real cutie." she cooed at Lion. "When and where did you get him?" "It was when I was starting to go on missions with the Gems, I found him in a desert one time." Steven explained. "Ah, sometimes I miss the simpler days when I was just an excitable tagalong to them. Just a new monster with no drama related to my dead mom or other Gems in sight." "Kinda reminds me of when I started out as an X-Man." Kitty regaled. "I was just another student of theirs until I happened to save their lives from the Hellfire Club and that's how I became a full member with both Storm & Wolverine having my back." "Wow, you two are surprisingly pretty similar." Connie observed. "You mean like how we were once eager young sidekicks to more experienced heroes who soon grew into our own?" Kitty responded. "Yeah, that's basically it." Connie replied. "So what can all of you do?" "That's just what I needed to hear young lady." Professor X stated. "I want to see how skilled you and Steven are on the battlefield. Come now, to the Danger Room everyone! Reed and company should be down there waiting for us." "What's that?" Steven asked Wolverine. "It's what we call our training room. Able to simulate any situation that requires any of our abilities." Logan explained. "It's been rebuilt God knows how many times, but it's still the same old room through and through." As the Crystal Gems were led by the X-Men, a female student of the Academy watched them depart and her eyes turned yellow as she eyed Lapis in particular. "Ah, she seems easy to replace." she muttered to herself while her skin slowly turned blue. "Let the mission proceed." -- Happy New Year everyone! I sincerely hope 2020 and beyond brings us more fond memories together, and I also hope I don't procrastinate on every chapter like what happened towards the end of both Secret Wars & Gravity Soul. With that said, just who is that mysterious student and what does she want with Lapis Lazuli?! Well if you know your Marvel, then I suppose the yellow eyes and blue skin should give it away. Anyways, be sure to leave a review and I'll see you next time!

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kyunsies · 3 years

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I'm FINALLY here!! Thank you for being patient with me 💖

I'm sorry your day was less than spectacular yesterday :( but hopefully this week can be better!!!

I wanted to clarify something about the whole US vs English album thing ! It doesn't bother me that they refer to it that way at all! I could definitely be reading into it way too much (I tend to do that!) but it feels intentional: they might be trying to appeal to a US audience specifically rather than an audience of any English speakers/listeners - of course all the things you said about their team and the label (maybe) being from the US could also be the explanation. I just think it's really interesting that there is a distinction at all! I'm also from the US, so I don't know that I can really say much about it either.

I will definitely consider making posts on my blog about music more seriously hahaha.. I'm slowly but surely working my way through mx's discography, I just want to find time to dedicate to listening. I did listen to Blue Moon! It surprised me a little bit, with the really thin texture under the opening rap (and when the rap returns), but with a little more stuff going on under the melodic lines texturally. Definitely got lofi vibes with the... directionless harmony. Which is not a bad thing! Just a certain style. AND THE LIL AD LIBS AT THE END IN THE BACKGROUND? My sister and I were listening to it in the car last night and when that bit came on we both just like... swooned?? It's so incredibly clear and smooth and lovely and just goes straight to the heart!

cravity is so so cute 😭💖 and honestly took me and my sister by storm. We didn't have time to gradually get into them, we just... were suddenly big fans?? We watched like one video, and it was game over.

Anyway yesterday a friend of mine that I hadn't talked to in a while asked me what I've been up to and I mentioned that I've been getting into kpop lately and she goes "yeah kpop is amazing haha, who do you listen to?" And I've been so shook since she sent me that and I asked if she listens to kpop and she hasn't replied yet!!! Like, this friend and kpop are two completely separate worlds in my brain, and they just collided! I might have another kpop friend and I'm so excited !!! 💖 dkbtho

hi angel !!!!! im so sorry i'm getting to this only now ;_____; i had an exam today and then i went to the gym and i've just been trying to get ahead on assignments lol :') i hope u have been having a good day love <3

about the english album stuff LOL i'm glad u weren't upset about my words ;______; i was just trying to be conscious of the situation bc you really never know someone's true feelings about things, so just trying to explain everything best i could felt like the right thing to do !! and now i know we are both from the US and we probably can share similar perspectives on things <3 so thank YOU for clarifying too !!!!

also sldfkjsdlkfj i know blue moon isn't for everything (esp with the la la's) but to me there is just something so impressive about it idk ;_____; boo's opening rap is incredible he always has such a way of displaying his confidence AGAIN ON A DEBUT ALBUM ,,,,,, god and it's not aggressive too just ,,,,, so strong and powerful and u can tell he means every word just like changkyun too !!!!! not to be me and i know changkyun was just a lil babe but i think he sounds so s*xy in this too LSDFKJLSKJF i'm so cringe i'm sorry :')))))) it's just such a cool song, one of many many cool songs by them !!!! and i'm so excited to hear from you about other songs you love from them as u dig thru their discography :D

and like i said i really don't follow gravity at all but they seem like really sweet kiddos !!!! that ep i saw them on for midnight idol really melted my heart lol i think their chemistry with mx is cute <3 ALSO THAT IS SO INCREDIBLE THAT UR FRIEND LIKES KPOP AND IS INTERESTED IN WHO U LIKE AHHH !!!!! it's the best feeling isn't it?? i remember my sophomore year of uni i was listening to 'thanks' by seventeen in my room with my speakers and my next door neighbor knocked on my door and said "are you playing seventeen?" LKDSFJS and to this day she is one of my besties <3 it's always so fun to share this experience with in real life friends !!!! that's so cool <3 anyways angel thank u again for being patient with me !!!!!!!! :( i know i was late to this :( and as i said before i hope u are doing well this week, it's always nice to hear from you <3

#asks #dkbtho

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frustratedcastingdirector · 6 years

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Mark Ruffalo Steps Behind the Camera

By Jenelle Riley (Backstage Magazine)| Posted April 20, 2011, 6:25 p.m.

Mark Ruffalo and Christopher Thornton met 20 years ago when both were students at the Stella Adler Academy in Los Angeles. "Mark was the hot young actor at the school," Thornton recalls. "All I can remember is, every girl I had a crush on he'd either already dated or was presently dating. So it was a little competitive in the beginning, but we became fast friends. And you knew immediately he was a fantastic, very instinctive actor." The pair would see each other through many hard times, from financial struggles to career frustrations. But perhaps nothing was more devastating than a 1992 fall while rock climbing that left Thornton paralyzed from the waist down. Ruffalo and two friends—Tim McNeil and Milton Justice—helped convince Thornton that this didn't mean the end of his acting career. Six months after the accident, the trio informed him that they were going to mount a production of "Waiting for Godot" in which Thornton would play Estragon. "I told them they were out of their minds, but they wouldn't take no for an answer," Thornton says. "It turned out to be the best therapy I could have ever done. Suddenly, I'm not focused on my injury for the first time in six months. And the play opens and it's a big hit, and we won awards and sold out and extended the show." Another pivotal artistic moment was born five years later. While having their annual lunch on the anniversary of Thornton's fall, Ruffalo attempted to offer encouraging words to his friend. "I told him that I knew him before and after his accident, and the man he was now was so much more than the man he was before," Ruffalo recalls. "And I said, 'Maybe there is a gift in this. Maybe this has made you a stronger, better person in some ways.' " Thornton's response? "You be the saint in the wheelchair; I'll be the shallow asshole walking around." Ruffalo laughs when he recounts this story—which Thornton verifies—and adds that from this starting point, the seeds were planted for what would become Thornton's script for "Sympathy for Delicious." The film tells the story of Dean O'Dwyer, aka "Delicious D," a paralyzed and homeless DJ who discovers he has the ability to heal others—but not himself. Ruffalo stars as a dedicated priest who tries to help O'Dwyer, but the actor also makes his film directing debut, while Thornton portrays O'Dwyer in a magnetic, unsentimental performance. After a 10-year development period, a dramatic premiere at the Sundance Film Festival that saw the movie go from reviled to revered, and a lengthy battle to find distribution, "Sympathy for Delicious" finally makes its way into theaters this week. It is, in Ruffalo's words, "the greatest roller-coaster ride I've ever been on in my life." A Winning Season It's two weeks before "Sympathy for Delicious" opens and Ruffalo is trying to relax. He has been doing publicity nonstop for his passion project and, despite the exhaustion, claims to be enjoying himself. Being a recognizable actor with a recent Oscar nomination—for playing the sperm-donor dad in "The Kids Are All Right"—has its perks. He breaks into a wide smile when he reveals that earlier that morning, he got to work with a very special co-star: Elmo, from "Sesame Street." Ruffalo has been a journeyman actor for most of his life. He quit the business three or four times before his friend Kenneth Lonergan cast him in his 2000 indie film "You Can Count On Me" as the goodhearted but unreliable brother of Laura Linney's character. Hollywood quickly caught on to Ruffalo's raw talent and leading-man looks, and for the next 10 years the actor constantly seemed on the verge of major stardom. He was cast in several projects that looked prestigious on the page ("In the Cut," "All the King's Men," "Reservation Road"), yet none connected with critics or audiences. Then there were the big-budget rom-coms opposite major female stars ("Rumor Has It," "Just Like Heaven," "View From the Top"), in which he was underutilized. Instead, he tended to shine more in small indies or ensemble pieces, like "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" and "The Brothers Bloom." While he was doing stellar work in little-seen films like "XX/XY" and "The Last Castle," it's the 2004 comedy "13 Going on 30," he says, that he is most often recognized for in public—all of which is fine by Ruffalo, who has always preferred to disappear into his characters. "I still have people say to me, 'Who are you? I'm sorry, am I supposed to know who you are?' " he says with a laugh. "So they'll ask my name and what I've been in, then go, 'Oh, yeah, yeah, you're that guy.' And I like that." Even after he landed his Academy Award nomination for "Kids," a small film he worked on for only six days, his career didn't change much. He admits he's glad the days and nights spent campaigning during Oscar season are over and he can get back to work. "Honestly, the whole awards thing was so abstract to me," he says. "It's so different from what we actually do. And aside from a few people, I don't think anyone places too much importance on it. I think your work speaks for itself more than titles or awards." One advantage of his raised profile, however, is Ruffalo's ability to get certain projects off the ground. More than 10 years ago, Thornton brought him a 198-page script for "Sympathy for Delicious," and Ruffalo says he "instantly knew" he had to direct it. Though he had helmed his share of stage productions, he was unproven as a film director and knew it would be an uphill battle. Then there was the added difficultly of casting an unknown actor in the lead role. Thornton reveals, "There were several times over the last 10 years where people said to Mark, 'Stick Colin Farrell in a wheelchair and we'll give you $7 million right now, because we really like the script.' One time, late in the process, I said, 'The hell with it; just do it. I'll take the writing credit; I just want to go home.' But Mark was insistent. He wouldn't make the film without me in the role." As Ruffalo puts it, "It didn't interest me without Chris in the part." Thornton and Ruffalo worked on approximately 40 versions of the script, and over the years the project changed for them in personal and professional terms. Ruffalo admits that the story took on an even deeper meaning for him when he was diagnosed with a brain tumor in 2002. Though he's resistant to talk about that experience, he says it informed the story in a new way: "When I had my brain tumor, I tried everything. Because who doesn't want a fix? And my face was partially paralyzed. I was still working on this script and thinking about the questions the film raises. After that, I looked at this from a whole new angle." The pair's salvation eventually arrived in the form of Joanne Jacobson, a friend from their theater days, who signed on in 2008 to executive-produce the movie. It was shot on a micro-budget in 23 days in Los Angeles, with Ruffalo working behind and in front of the camera. "For me, acting is a very secret and insular process," he says. "Directing is very different—it's far more inclusive. I had to be in touch with everyone from production heads to extras. It was a challenge, to say the least. But I'd waited 10 years for this and wasn't going to let anything stop me." To round out his cast, Ruffalo called upon various actors he'd met over the years, such as Linney, his "Windtalkers" co-star Noah Emmerich, and fellow "Zodiac" player John Carroll Lynch. "I've sort of been collecting people as I go along," he admits. "It might come from my theater background, where I'm building a repertory company. I would work with these people and start looking for places where I could use them." Though he had never worked with either of them, Orlando Bloom and Juliette Lewis signed on to play members of the rock band O'Dwyer performs with. Ruffalo's wife had suggested Lewis, who initially hesitated at taking on the role. "She told us, 'I've sort of played this; I'm in a rock band in real life. I just don't know,' " Ruffalo recalls. "But after coming in and talking to me and Chris and hearing the story, she said, 'Well, you guys, I have to do it now. I'm being guided to do this movie.' " By contrast, Bloom wasn't someone Ruffalo thought of as the arrogant lead singer of the band. "I had another actor in mind, but he had some schedule changes and I lost him," the director says. "Orlando expressed a real passion for it, and anyone who puts themselves out there like that, I have to meet. And the first thing he said to me was, 'You know, Mark, I really need an experience like this. This part scares me, but I'd like to try. I'll do anything you want me to do, but I need a healing myself.' " Bloom so transformed his appearance for the role, many viewers don't recognize him at all in the film. "He was a revelation," Ruffalo says. "He was there, totally egoless, no attitude, and he worked his ass off. And I love when people come up to me and say, 'I thought Orlando Bloom was in this movie. Where is he?' " Critical 'Sympathy' "Sympathy for Delicious" made its debut at the 2010 Sundance Film Festival, and the immediate critical response was not kind. "Some of those first reviews were harsh and mean, and particularly mean to some of my cast members," Ruffalo says. "And I really took umbrage with it." IFC.com called it "a gangly mess of a movie." "It looked like it was going to be a disaster," he says. But then things began to change. "A rebuttal review came out in USA Today that essentially said, 'I don't understand these mean reviews; they totally seemed to miss the movie.' And then Manohla Dargis of The New York Times came out with a rave review." By the close of the festival, the film had walked away with the Special Jury Prize. "It was harrowing, it was heartbreaking, it was exhilarating, and in the end, totally exalting." As for the harsher critics, Ruffalo says the ones that really got to him were those that criticized Thornton's performance. "Let me put it this way: I'm in the movie, working opposite Chris. And Chris steals every scene I'm in," Ruffalo says with a laugh. "Damn him!" Still, the film didn't instantly land a distributor out of Sundance. Though they had a few offers, Ruffalo and Thornton wanted to hold out for a theatrical release. "Thank God the producers said, 'This movie is too special, and we believe in it, and something good is going to come,' " Ruffalo says, adding that he then wasted months on "a real crackpot" trying to solidify a deal. Eventually, Maya Entertainment came along with plans to distribute the film in theaters. "I've been collaborating with them every step of the way, on marketing, cutting a trailer, designing the poster, everything," he says. "It's been a great experience working with them, but it's been a long haul." As for how audiences will embrace a film about a disillusioned faith healer that dares to ask questions about people's belief systems, Ruffalo believes there's something in the movie for everyone. After screenings, he would find himself approached by Christians who thanked him for not mocking their beliefs, and by atheists who congratulated him for exposing faith healing as a sham. "But ultimately it's not a religious movie; it's a movie that has religious people in it," Ruffalo says. "What it's really about is how you sometimes don't get what you want in life, but you get what you need. And sometimes you're handed a bag of shit in life, but out of that, something can grow. Something good and beautiful.

#mark ruffalo #christopherthornton #sympathyfordelicious #marvel #thehulk #the avengers

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sage-nebula · 7 years

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pokemon (games and anime) and yu-gi-oh

Pokémon:

Games:

There are so many Pokémon characters that it’s honestly hard to pick one . . . though I’d have to say that it’s probably a weird sort of tie between Trevor and Wicke.

As far as Trevor is concerned, honestly, I can’t stand any of the XY rivals. Three out of the four of them (Shauna, Trevor, and Tierno) are pathetic in terms of having a good opponent to battle against, and likewise, three out of the four of them (Calem, Trevor, and Tierno) have awful personalities. Like, Shauna is at least okay in terms of personality. I didn’t mind her as much as I minded the other three. But Calem came off as a fuckboy, Tierno was nothing but his gimmick, and Trevor’s dialogue was painful to sit through due to how redundant he was. “I like trees. In other words, trees are a thing I like.” No fucking shit, Trevor. Can you please piss off and let me get back to my journey now? Christ.

In all honesty, the “rival” squad (can we even really call them rivals when they never have more than half of a team and can’t put up more than a three second fight?) wouldn’t have been so bad if they didn’t show up so often---and even then, I think if you probably pieced the game apart, it’s not that they all show up all the time, but rather that there are so many of them that it feels like you’re being stopped every five seconds so that characters you have no reason to feel attached to can squeal “BFF!1!!!1!! 8D” and impede your journey with dialogue you don’t care about. Because after all, they didn’t all travel together all the time. I think there are only a couple times when they all show up together. Otherwise you were just stopped by one or two of them, but given that there are four, it really dragged things down and aggravated me to the point where I just wanted to push them all off a bridge somewhere and have done with it. They’re absolutely my least favorite rivals in the entire series, hands down. But with that said, as much as I dislike all of them (with the caveat that, again, Shauna is okay, she’s just a pitiful excuse for a rival since she never gets a full team and can’t even begin to pretend to put up a fight), Trevor is hands down the worst, imo. I can’t stand his dialogue. Repetition makes me want to carve out my brain with an ice pick and there is no character more redundant than Trevor. So yeah, there’s a special place of hate in my heart reserved just for him.

As far as Wicke is concerned, my dislike for her primarily comes from how terribly written and bland she was. In canon, she’s nothing more than your standard Sweet Motherly™ stereotype, meant to contrast with Lusamine being an abusive mother. There’s nothing standout about her dialogue; if you read it without a dialogue tag attached, it would read as completely generic. She has virtually no personality aside from “somewhat timid and motherly,” and that’s incredibly disappointing considering the fact that she’s one of the few Aether Foundation members with an actually unique character design, and a somewhat important role in the plot. (Of course, the female characters in general were treated rather horribly in Gen VII imo, and this is part of that, but that’s another discussion for another time.)

But that’s only part of it. In truth, while I really hate how generic she was, and while I feel that it’s a complete waste to not have her be evil as well (though again, with how Lusamine was handled . . . god there’s so much to complain about with the Gen VII plot istg), I also feel that there’s something insidious about her that’s just never touched on or actually brought up. Like, for instance, Wicke knew about how abusive Lusamine was to the twins. Supposedly, she “helped” Lillie somehow. Yet, Lusamine was still able to abuse Lillie (and Gladion, while he was there), and Wicke did nothing. She didn’t actively defend them, and even seemed (in a couple lines) to disparage Gladion a bit for leaving. In fact, she straight up calls him “sheltered” later on, which is complete fucking nonsense considering he was abused and then was homeless for two years. Yet she’s going to sit there and mock him for being “sheltered?” What the fuck, Wicke? We’re supposed to believe she’s this nurturing, kind woman, that she has nothing malevolent in her personality at all, yet she seems to know an awful lot about Ultra Beasts, and seems to have quite a bit of interest in them herself. She didn’t help the twins when they were being abused. Gladion is technically president of Aether Foundation now, but she’s right there running things behind the scenes . . .

Of course, I don’t think she’s actually meant to be evil or malicious. She’s too bland, too much of an afterthought for that. But I do think that while she’s a terribly written character for being so boring, she’s also terrible in what little we get of her. She didn’t help the twins, and she flat out belittles Gladion and calls him “sheltered” despite what he’s been through. Wicke can go fuck herself, tbqh.

Anime:

That fucker Damien from the OS. I’ve ranted about him at length before, so I won’t go into it again, but he can go get fucked. He’s the actual worst for how abusive he was to Charmander (and others, I’m sure). I hope a wild pokémon ate him at some point. He’d deserve it.

If Characters of the Day don’t count, then probably Paul. Yeah, yeah, I know, “but he was such a good rival for Ash!” and “but he learned to thank his pokémon!!1″ Well, one, I honestly wonder if people would think he was ~zomg the best rival~ had Ash lost to him at the Sinnoh League (or if they would instead be salty against him 5ever), and two, I don’t care that he learned to do the absolute bare minimum when it comes to being a decent human being. The fact remains that he was still an abusive fuck to Chimchar at the least, and didn’t treat his other pokémon much better, instead viewing them as tools he needed to win battles. (Which, yes, was the point considering he was supposed to be a foil to Ash, but that doesn’t mean I have to personally like it.) Animal abuse (which pokémon abuse is, in my eyes) is one of my biggest triggers. I have it blacklisted every which way I can in Tumblr Savior and hate when I’m surprised by it on Facebook, et cetera. It’s easier to digest in a show like Pokémon since it’s all animated, but nonetheless, it’s one of the absolute worst things in my eyes. It’s one of the most heinous acts a human can perform in my view. And so the fact that Paul is a pokémon abuser---the fact that he was shown to have “developed” by just thanking his pokémon and that we were supposed to be proud of him for this---is disgusting to me, and something I can’t forgive. I especially can’t forgive it since, again, him thanking Electivire was supposed to be seen as ~zomg development~ when, again, that’s the bare minimum you should expect out of a trainer. The absolute bare minimum. That’s not love, or even care; that’s being halfway decent. I also hate that Paul’s “style” of “training” was supposed to be seen as just “one way to do things,” because no. No. It’s cruel and unacceptable. It goes completely against what the franchise has always been about, and hell, we never even saw the Johto Rival dismiss one of the pokémon he said he was going to, and yet he still wasn’t allowed to succeed until he openly started showing love and acceptance toward his team. Yet Paul is able to make it all the way to the League despite being an abusive prick on-screen? Get out of here. It’s especially ludicrous when you consider that the Johto Rival has an understandable reason for his attitude (i.e. he was raised in Team Rocket where this kind of abusive behavior was normalized---though again, despite his constant threats of getting rid of his team, he never actually does), whereas Paul does not (“wah wah my brother Reggie gave up training to be a breeder instead---” get the fuck over it, that’s not an excuse for abusing innocent creatures). Seriously, it’s beyond ridiculous.

So yeah, either Damien or Paul. I usually hold stronger feelings of hatred toward Damien, particularly openly since I know that Paul is a Fandom Darling™ (and seriously, I don’t want to argue with anyone over Paul, please don’t try to start The Discourse™ with me, I’m not interested), but in truth I don’t like either of them. They can both go get fucked, imho.

(And the fact that people ship Dawn with Paul, like . . . why would you play her like that . . . Dawn, sweetie, I’m sorry they treat you this way, you deserve so much better . . .)

Yu-Gi-Oh!:

“Bandit” Keith Howard. I used to answer Haga for this question, but upon reflection, even though Haga is terrible, he’s only fourteen. He’s a kid. He still has room to grow and become less of a shitty person.

Keith, on the other hand, is twenty-six. He’s the oldest person present at Duelist Kingdom, outside of Pegasus’ employees (since I don’t think we’re given ages for them). I’m not exaggerating, here: Keith is older than both Pegasus and Mai, both of whom are twenty-four. Sure, he only has two years on them, but he’s still older than them both. He should, theoretically, be at least a little more mature than them.

He’s not. Keith is awful. Not only is he a filthy cheater when it comes to games, but he’s willing to assault children (well, teenagers, but teenagers are kids to me and I’m only a year older than Keith at this point) and commit murder over a card game. I understand that Keith wanted to win money from Duel Monsters, but goddamn. He’s selfish, violent, and doesn’t really have any redeeming qualities whatsoever. Keith is, in many ways, written like a school arc villain, albeit with the caveat that he actually has a much longer stay in the plot due to being an antagonist throughout all of Duelist Kingdom (which in turn makes him even worse than a school arc villain, since none of them* really had the opportunity to show any good qualities, whereas Keith did and he still didn’t). Either way, I don’t find anything redeemable in Keith’s character. He is trash from start to finish, and in the end is a grown man who assaults children and tries to murder people over a card game. He’s definitely my least fave, particularly since he’s not even a very creative, compelling, or effective villain.

(*Hirutani has two appearances, and thus he also had some extra time to showcase good qualities, and he still didn’t. This is because Hirutani Kimio does not really have positive character qualities, at least not when it comes to being a decent human being. He is not decent by most people’s standards. He is aware of this. He does not care. However, unlike Keith, Hirutani is an effective and compelling villain, and his second appearance really served to drive this point home with how much clearer his obsession with Jounouchi---which, tbh, was even evident in his first appearance---became. Hirutani has a lot of worth and value as a character, in my eyes. Keith does not. So therefore, while Hirutani is also a bastard, he’s an effective one, and thus I love him for the effective bastard he is. Keith is not effective, or useful. He’s just trash. I have no use for him. Back in the dumpster he goes.)

(Send me a fandom and I’ll tell you my least favorite character in it.)

#least favorite character meme #temptationsofchaos

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rantsbymiriam · 4 years

Text

Once you see you cant unsee

There is one life experience i’ve had that had made me really re-think all my interactions with everyone that I have met in my life.

I can’t recall how this moment happened for me, I assume it was gradually building up in the back of mind, until it reached the surface and a wave of epiphany hits...

Its about curiosity...curiosity of other people...and questions others ask me when they interact with me...

I have come to a realization majority of people are very unconscious beings. This is not something new....I just ONLY realized this...after I was conscious about my own behavior and actions.

In any interaction I have with others, I have now started counting how many times this other person talks abt themselves vs talked about other things (and what others things) vs asks about me. Im analyzing as im being in the moment. A skill that it both a blessing and a curse.

Unfortunately, once I started to posses these super multi tasking powers, i’ve come to realize that many people i meet have little interest or curiosity to know abt me or my life. If I dont ASSERT myself in the conversation, there will be no questions about me and my life.....

Once I “saw” this, I cannot unsee it anymore. And now I see it everywhere.

It relates back to how conscious and self aware this person is when they are talking. Do they realize they haven’t stopped talking about themselves since 30 mins ago? Do they realize they haven’t once asked a question of interest about the person they’re talking to? Have they no interest in getting to know or understanding about what is going on with something/someone other than themselves and their life? These are some of the thoughts that go through my mind in conversations with unconscious people.

I am sure there are many things about me and my life that im still unconscious about.......but this is the one thing that I feel a little blergh abt....

In the beginning it made me very sad. So many people...they like that I like to listen, and ask THEM questions (i am generally a very good listener and always curious abt others) but they do not ask me back in return. Obviously I could just force them to listen to me (like I used to do all my life)....but why would I? I would love for someone to actually show genuine interest and ask me ...instead of me having to assert myself, and demand for their attention...”HEY LISTEN TO ME! I WANNA SHARE ABOUT MY LIFE” Why? Why spend time with people like this? Are they even your real friends if they do not ask about you?

Then I started to realize the dynamics of group interactions. Who really listens, who listens to respond, who talks, who never stops talking..That was hard. I had to witness interactions of a bunch of people screaming to get heard but nobody really listening...I just sat there in amazement and I thought. “Every single person in this group is talking over each other, but no one is listening to anyone” I realized how some of the timid ones just shut down after no one paid attention to their response...how some of the loud ones hijacked the entire conversation to talk about their life in repeat...I shudder thinking about them..I started to avoid all conversation hoggers.....I grieved all my friendships after that.

.....Then I started to get paranoid about what I was saying and everything that came out of my mouth....have I been talking too much? Did I ask back about them? How long have I been talking vs how long has this person been talking? So much so that I preferred to keep quiet and only speak when I really have to speak. I have even stopped going out with so many people because im drained by all these offloads on me.....It was getting a little too hard for me to bite my tongue. Especially to people who like to play victim about their lives “everything is wrong, my life is horrible. its everyone else’s fault” (this is a story for another time)

It became more difficult to date too. Unfortunately, most, if not all, of the dates i’ve been on were men talking about themselves, using me as a therapist to offload their lives and problems onto me. None of them really asked me any questions about my life. Only the first few basic questions were asked “Where do you live” “What do you do” but after that, none. I had to sit there to listen to their life story one after another, without them even realizing they had been talking about themselves for the past hour.

In the beginning, I used to assert myself and volunteer information even if they do not ask, but I stopped. Why do I have to force my stories onto others if they do not ask? Why aren’t these people curious to know about my life? They say they are looking to find girlfriends and companions yet they do not even want to know who I am. Does it not matter what I have to say? Does it not matter what my opinion is about XY and Z? Do they not care to know who they want to get into a relationship with? That was mind boggling for me.

Quickly enough i realized these guys dont really care about my brain or my opinion about anything, they aren’t even self aware enough of their own brain to begin with let alone mine. All they wanted was a pretty accessory, a warm body submissive and ignorant enough to be their girlfriend. Im sure they were nice guys, just very self involved, and definitely not for me. I admire curiosity. I respect men with self awareness. Self awareness in general is rare....but self awareness in a man? Rare find.

All I had to do was keep quiet and listen to the type of questions they asked me. You learn so much from listening, reading between the lines. Body language. I’ve gone on so many dates back in the day and none of them asked me any questions that implied that they were self aware about what it takes to be in a relationship, or even basic self knowledge....

10 years ago, I wouldn’t have realized this. I was so insecure about myself, I needed a man to pay attention to me in order for me to feel “worthy”, “wanted”....but now, it really matters what sort of attention I get from them. Are they asking the right questions? Do these questions reflect how much they know about themselves / or the world enough?

Of course, connection is a tricky thing. Some of my close friends will NEVER ask me interesting questions, yet we are friends, and it works...we have fun together....how does that work? Same with relationships....i’ve dated someone who asked all the right questions yet it didn’t work out in the end....consciousness doesn’t really mean you can or cannot connect to someone (and there is such a thing as selective consciousness) Ive accepted that once you see, you cannot unsee...there is no going back. the best you can do is set boundaries with what you can or cannot tolerate. Some people will never be conscious...but that shouldn’t be the dealbreaker. If you’re gonna cut out every unconscious being.....you’ll definitely end up alone.

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