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arielburrow · 4 months

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So It Goes

Your relationship with Joe seems to be a flame that was never put out.

“I just don’t see how this is ever going to work.” You struggle to get the words out through your sobs. Your hands cupped your face as you sat at the edge of your boyfriend's bed, his figure sulking above. “We keep telling ourselves we can push through but Joe we are miserable, and we aren’t anywhere near the end. You're going to Cincinnati in less than a month and I’m working out of Miami for at least the next three years!” Your cries become heavier as you feel his weight beside you as his head falls to your shoulder. You hear his silent cries as well.

“Your right…I hate it, but your right,” he mumbles into your shoulder. You pull him closer to you, grasping the fact that your relationship was inevitably at the end. “I mean really Joe, before I flew out here we shared what? Five texts in the last month? I barely made it to three games this season,” You whisper towards him. “I know, I know but baby you have to understand it won’t always be like that…just right now life is a whirlwind, and I just have to figure some things out but then-”

“Joey,” you cut him off. “You’ve been saying that for two years now…I mean i’ve accepted at this point your entire life is a whirlwind and I just don’t seem to fit into it.” You lift your head and stare blankly out of the window of his apartment. Thinking back to the first day you stepped foot in here and how optimistic you both were for the success of your long-distance relationship. You and Joe had been dating for two years back in Ohio and you’d be lying if you said those weren’t the best two years of your life. It started with innocent study sessions that eventually led to late-night conversations lying next to each other on his rickety dorm mattress. Before you knew it, he swept you off your feet and showed you what love really was. You remember the tears you wept when he first told you he decided on LSU. He immediately embraced you and you promised him they were “happy” tears and you were just so “excited” for his future. That being undoubtedly true, you never imagined how much Joe's life would change in the upcoming years, and how little you would be a part of it.

“y/n…I’m willing to wait, I promise you I don't care how much longer we’re apart for I’ll wait for the days when I get to wake up to you every morning.” he seemingly pleads as his head rises off your shoulder and you both meet each other's eyes. “Joe I am so beyond proud of everything this year has brought you and everything the next years are going to bring you. But, honey you know as well as I do that we are not the same people we were two year ago unpacking in this very apartment. Joe this is not a bad thing i need you to hear me, it’s just not healthy for either of us to keep dragging on a relationship that is fighting to keep its head above water.” You grab his hand and hold it close to you before you reluctantly stand and head for the door, tears streaming down your face as you reach for the handle.

“y/n…it’ll always be you, I promise even if we never see each other again, we both know deep down we were always meant for each other.”

That was four years ago

and as you stood in the mirror applying final touches to your face, it finally hit you. That gut feeling that you’ve had since you opened the invite but couldn’t quite put your finger on.

He’s going to be there.

There was no doubt about it. Sam was one of his best friends and it was the middle of the off-season. Hell he might even be in the wedding you think to yourself as you notice your face turn in the mirror. You both had lived about a million lives since you last saw each other which you know to be a fact due to your “surprising interest” in football whenever the Bengals were playing as your brother would joke. It was unintentional snooping on a life you swore you were putting an end to as soon as you got back to Florida. Of course your life carried on, you started dating again and made a great group of friends. But no matter what every Sunday you found yourself sat watching Joe through his brutal knee injury, Super bowl attempt, and current list of nagging injuries. Every now and then your mom would mention him over the phone but you were always quick to dismiss him, refusing to admit you still kept an eye on him. Besides the pit in your stomach, you were excited to watch your friend Sam marry his childhood best friend Ava and see all your friends you hadn’t gotten a chance to catch up with since moving back to the Ohio area. You moved back a couple of months ago, finding peace working with a new company that promised a more stationary enviorment for you. It was nice to be closer to family and friends and although it wasn’t considered Ohio, Covington was just under two miles from Cincinnati.

“Have you seen the gold hoops i laid out? I cant find them,” rachel comes into the room in a search. She was your best friend and you were so excited to be staying with her for the weekend, given she lived in down town cincy where the wedding was taking place. “here.” You hand her the earrings as she smiles.

“you look extra good,” she smirks bouncing your curls and flatting your dress once more. You roll your eyes knowing where she was going with this. “C'mon y/n, it’s been like a year since you’ve gotten laid, I just know tonight’s the night.” she laughs as she puts on her heels. “Your terrible, I’m not going to this wedding to get some, I’m going to celebrate our friends and-”

“you know he’s in the wedding right? I just wanted to warn you, Sam said he’s his best man,” she says looking up with a sympathetic smile. You sigh, “that’s good for him, glad him and Sam are still just as close.” You smile trying to brush off the conversation.

Arriving at the venue, you took in how beautifully decorated it was. White roses lined the entire isle and fairy lights were strung from each end of the ceiling. You and Rachel greeted familiar faces as you found your seats. You chatted for a bit with others, greeting both Sam and Ava’s parents. Soon after, silence fell as piano chords began to play and heads turned towards the double doors as they began to open. You watched as the party made its way down the aisle, some new faces, but for the most part, you recognized everyone.

Finally, you spotted him. His dirty blonde locks grown out long, framing his face in a way that brought out his features like no other. His frame was just as tall, just much more muscular in comparison to when you last saw him. He made his way down the aisle, arms locked with a pretty blonde with blue eyes. They walked with a sort of synchronicity, capturing every eye in the room even more than before. You couldn’t help but let out a smile at the fact that his eyes remained glued in-front of him, he seemed nervous. You felt Rachel poke your stomach, making you giggle a little. You hated to admit it, but he looked good, so good.

Finally Ava entered as everyone rose, she was such a beautiful bride and watching Sam’s reaction almost brought tears to your eyes. They looked so happy to be taking this step together and it pulled at your heartstrings knowing how far you still were from this step.

The ceremony started as you kept and eye on Joe, he still seemed to be in a trance just watching Sam, not taking note of the crowd. When they finally kissed, everyone stood in applause. You smiled as you scanned your eyes down the groomsmen once more, only to be stopped by a pair of blue eyes locked directly at you. You felt frozen for a moment, but forced yourself to let out a small smile, only met with a continuous face of shock from Joe. You would have probably stood there forever, however a shove from Rachel got you moving with the rest of the row out to the reception area.

Once everyone made their way to the much more open space with even more white roses and lights, you finally had a second to breath and take in what just happened. Everyone found their designated seat once again and watched as the bride and groom made their big entrance and began to make their way around greeting everyone.

You looked up to the wedding party table and immediately spotted him.

Well, not only him.

The same blonde you had assumed was only Ava’s maid of honor had her head rested on Joe’s shoulder and a hand on his chest. You took in her entire appearance. She was undoubtedly gorgeous and very petite compared to your taller figure. As your eyes scanned up you were met in a deadlock with Joe's eyes once again. His face was expressionless, but nonetheless, he had caught you in some sort of trance once again. Only shaking out of it when you heard Ava and Sam approaching your table. You greeted the two and chatted with them for a few minutes, trying to bury a growing feeling inside your stomach.

Before food was served, speeches were started by both sets of parents. All of them were beautifully worded and carefully thought out to honor the couple. As Joe stood to say his, you latched on to every word, secretly admiring the sincerity he had for his best friend. He kept it short but sweet, and of course, claps seemed a little louder after his. Finally, you watched as the blonde stood, introducing herself as Stephanie, she went on about her best friend Ava and you subconsciously tuned her out. You were brought back when Joe’s name was mentioned, specifically how, “thankful” she was for Sam bringing such a “special man” into her life. She smiled looking down at him and placing a hand on his shoulder as he looked up to her with a small smile. You couldn’t tell if you were more shocked at her words or the twisting in your stomach because of her words. The adoring coos from the audience didn’t help the feeling, and neither did the few glances you picked up from individuals who knew well of your past with Joe.

As the reception continued, the dance floor got more crowded and the music got louder as the night continued. Your mind was in a different place than it was an hour ago, you were actually enjoying dancing with your friends and catching up with people you hadn’t seen in years. “You want a drink?” you loudly ask Rachel over the music as she dances next to you. “No thanks! Still working on this one!” she shows you her drink and you nod, letting her know you’d be at the bar. You hopped up on a barstool greeting the bartender with a smile as you rattled off your order. Turning away only for a second to look at the dance floor, you were startled when you turned back, noticing who had joined you.

“vodka soda please.” Joe orders from the man and slowly turns his head towards you with a smile. You can’t help but giggle a little. “How are you still drinking the same thing from college? Some things really never change I guess.” You raise your eyebrows as you take a sip from your drink. “Hello to you too.” He sarcastically replies making you both smile a little. “I honestly had no idea you were going to be here, I mean i can’t believe Sam didn’t mention it,” he states. “Yeah well it was great timing, I moved to the Covington area a few months ago so I was excited to come see everyone again,” you reply trying to make casual conversation. “Wow…I had no idea you were back, I mean i’m just really surprised to see you after all this time.” His eyes softened a bit and you could’ve sworn he had gotten closer. “You look really great, y/n” his words are quieter and you swear you see a shift in his eyes. You blush a bit at his words and fail to hide it. “Thank you, so do you. How have you been doing?” you reply trying to change the path of the conversation. “I’m alright, just making it through the off-season right now after such a shitty season. Looking forward to some trips and stuff,” he reply’s with a shrug. “That’s nice, I’m glad you let yourself relax a little,” You give him a genuine smile. Your eyes both lingered on each other a little too long, leaving you both in a blushed giggle. “So are you still working the same job,” he questions. “No, I mean technically yeah, but for a different company. I wasn’t happy anymore and felt like I couldn’t move up at all. Now I can stay here and feel a lot more productive with what I’m actually doing.” you stop yourself from going on not wanting to bombard him with a vent. “That’s nice you can stay in one place now, wish it could’ve been like that a couple years ago.” He laughs to himself but immediately regrets his word choice seeing your reaction. You felt a ping of guilt. He was right, things would be so different if you hadn’t uprooted your whole life for a job you wouldn’t even end up settling on. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong.” His hand inched toward yours but he stopped himself, seeming to be fighting an internal conflict. “It’s okay” you give him a reassuring smile.

You two continue to catch up and throw back a couple more drinks which you couldn’t even deny you were heavily feeling. You both watched the movement on the dance floor and your eyes fell on Stephanie who you had caught suspiciously watching Joe a few times throughout the night. Your mind honestly no longer had a say in what your words were. “So…” you press on “Stephanie seems nice!” You say with a clearly high octave in your voice making Joe laugh and shake his head. “Yeah..Yeah you know Sam introduced us, and we basically went on a double date and all and you know, it’s all good.” He finishes off his drink and places it on the bar with a hint of aggression. You watch her make her way off the dance floor and towards you and Joe. She pulls him off the barstool, clearly ignoring you and drags him to dance. He was clearly just as drunk as you which you felt partially at fault for, but decided to go find Rachel. You searched around for a bit but couldn’t seem to find her anywhere. You noticed Stephanie taking a selfie with Joe from across the room which he seemed antsy to get away from. You figured maybe Rachel took a step outside so made your way to the lit-up back patio area. You felt a sharp breeze as you stepped outside, regretting not bringing a coat as you held your arms and began to walk in search of her. After a long walk around the venue, you felt less under the influence and took a deep breath before you were stopped in your tracks.

“you just seem to be everywhere tonight.” You Joke, causing Joe's head to turn from where he was leaning on the railing looking out towards the city. “You look absolutely freezing,” his eyebrows raise as you accept the spot next to him. “just a bit” you joke, not expecting what he does next. You feel his suit jacket rest over your shoulders and a feeling of warmth overcomes you, something greater than just the feeling of a jacket. You look up to him with a smile before looking back towards the city. You both stood there, in absolute silence, for what felt like an eternity. The sun was long set by now, and the city glowed as each building outlined its own unique story. Your eyes traced each one, you felt so in touch at this moment, probably partially due to the alcohol, and partially due to something much greater than that.

Joe was the first to break the silence. “y/n…I’m really glad I got to see you, I really thought I’d never see you again.” he admits keeping his eyes ahead. You take a deep breath before speaking. “Yeah me too Joe, i’m glad everything worked out for us you know? We both got what we wanted in the end.” You said trying to convince yourself your words held truth. Joe seemed happy and like he had it all, you on the other hand felt like a lost puppy. He lets out a breath as his head drops before he turns to you. “Are you happy?” he asks. You freeze at the question, such simple words left you so complexed. Your silence seemingly answers his question. “Y/n…I told you a long time ago how much you mean to me, I just want you to know that hasn’t changed.” You both turn to each other at his words. “Joe-” you start but he cuts you off.

“Just listen. You ended things a long time ago with us and I let you. But I shouldn’t have, I should’ve fought harder and you know, I guess I just wanted you to know I’m sorry, for not fighting harder.” he stares into your eyes in a way you knew all too well. A feeling you hadn’t felt in years crept back into your body as you felt yourself gravitate towards him. You feel him pick up your hand as he moves in. His other hand meets your chin as he lifts your head towards his.

Inches away,

You feel your nose graze his, and in a quick second, you are met with the only lips that have ever meant anything to you.

Part two here

#joe burrow #joeburrow #joe burrow fic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey burrow #joe burrow x y/n #joey b #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow bengals #cincinnati bengals

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sleepingontheclouds · 12 days

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I’ve been getting more and more attached to Jason’s character so please indulge me. I will be having to section these off cause I’m gonna be talking about two pieces of media </3

Titans

I’m watching season three of Titans right now and, it’s a wonder. There’s a few aspects that bother me but overall I’m in love so far.

The season makes a bold choice by literally opening on Jason- a hero- doing drugs. Sure in season two it mentions Hank doing drugs because of Hawk and it does show him in the act of snorting a substance, but the difference is, he’s an adult. Hank is a thirty something year old man who has probably most likely killed people, Jason isn’t.

Yes, Jason is violent. Yes, he did assault police officers, but he never killed anyone. Jason may legally be an adult but he still acts like a teenager because he is one. He’s a traumatized teen having to deal with the fact that he’s repressing so much from everyone he loves. He never gets an outlet to discuss what’s happened to him with people he trusts.

A great example of this is when he’s about to jump off the the Titans tower in season two. He tries talking to Dick, he says how he feels and he try’s expressing himself, he tries so hard to get his brother figure to understand what he’s going through. What does Dick do? He flips it around and unintentionally makes it about himself.

The closest we get to him actually opening up is when he starts trusting Rose, telling her about his upbringing and starting to get comfortable with her, comfortable loving her. Then she reveals that she only met him because she was trying to manipulate him.

The impact of him turning to drugs hits so much harder. He’s just scared, he turns to anything he can to help. It’s so much deeper when it’s shown that the drug he takes isn’t heroine or coke or anything like that. It’s a drug that stops fear.

He literally felt so weak that he took drugs to repress his emotions to the point where he felt nothing, he felt nothing and thought he was better because of it. There’s no doubt that at this point in the story he’s addicted. Jason started using before he died and the madman who gave him the drugs started using them to manipulate him. I’m really interested in where the story is gonna go with it, I really hope it actually dives into withdrawal and how Jason would cope with everything going on around him without the help of drugs.

Comics/Animation

Overall with every piece of media I see regarding Jason and the batfam, it never really manages to depict Bruce and Jason’s relationship accurately, one of the good ones was that single episode of Titans. (in my opinion).

Me personally, I see Bruce and Jason’s relationship in a very complicated light.

When he first gets adopted, Jason views Bruce as a nurturing figure. He sees him like every child sees their parents, perfect. It’s like he can do no wrong. He’s Batman! And he made Jason Robin! It’s a perfect opportunity, he was being helped, he finally had a dad, one that loved him.

Before Jason died, he still very much idolized Bruce but not to the point of thinking he was perfect. He knew Bruce wasn’t perfect, he just couldn’t bring himself to actually say it. Jason couldn’t face the fact that Batman didn’t need a Robin, he didn’t accept that he could still be Bruce’s son without being Robin.

After he died and came back, there was resentment. He hated Bruce, despised him with every fiber of his being. Depending on what canon you’re watching/reading, there’s different reasons for why. Either Jason is mad that Bruce took Robin away from him before he died, effectively taking away his only coping mechanism, therefore resulting in his death. Or, he hates Bruce for not killing Joker. His father didn’t avenge him, he could care less about Batman having an obligation to avenge Robin as his sidekick—fuck Robin. He cares that Bruce, as a father, didn’t kill the Joker to avenge his son. He let his sons killer roam free, putting the psycho in Arkham won’t do anything. Or or, he holds resentment that Bruce couldn’t save him. He couldn’t save his sidekick, his son, his Robin. He failed.

No matter what happens between the duo, Jason always holds self loathing in his heart because of Bruce.

Across all forms of media, he always develops the thought that Bruce hates him. He always thinks that he’s the ‘least favorite/most hated child’ even though it couldn’t be farther from the truth. Bruce loves him, Jason is undoubtedly the favorite child.

(Sneaking a Titans reference in here—) The fact of Bruce caring for Jason more than his other children, (cough cough DICK) is solidified when he takes the Robin mantle away from Jason. He’s trying to protect his son in a way he thinks is best. He saw and heard what being Robin did to Dick, he doesn’t want to put Jason through that. Even the line where Bruce says “I don’t want to make the same mistakes.” Jason perceives it as Bruce calling him a mistake. He lashes out and gets angry because he thinks that he’s being called a mistake. It’s not true, the sentence itself with the context of the episode and the episode before show that it’s not true. Bruce is calling Dick his mistake, not Jason.

Throughout everything, Jason sees anything negative that Bruce says or does as a direct attack on him, when he’s the only one Bruce actually tried to parent. Dick was treated like a weapon. Jason, as a child.

#jason todd #dc robin #bruce and jason #red hood #dick grayson #nightwing #batfam #jason and bruce #daddy issues #dc comics #dc titans #titans 2018 #so much violence #tw drugs #drug usage

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sweetcloverheart · 10 months

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Clover Rants Miraculously: No Victory For The Simple Soul

(Full disclosure - this is a vent post more than analysis so don’t expect anything deep)

I feel the S5 finale highlights the biggest and most glaring issue that this and the last three seasons have had - Marinette (and by extension Adrien and the rest) not being allowed meaningful victories.

The entire point of a finale battle (specifically one that has your main villain giving his Swan Song) is that the character gains something at the end of it. Even if the battle ends with the loss of a friend or the MC no longer having access to their extra helpful powerup/superform, it’s not supposed to be a complete defeat - they’re supposed to learn something and resolve themselves to do better, or gain a new insight into the villain and go investigate their new lead, or promise to never allow another loss like what they faced again.

Miraculous doesn’t have that in their finale battles. All of them always end with Mari and co taking the bigger loss compared to Gabemoth, and it’s never in a way that’s used to either foster character growth or drive towards a meaningful story development. In fact, the loss only seems to happen because the writers need them to lose so Gabe looks like a bigger threat than he is, and then do nothing with it. They do it all the time -

Miracle Queen - Fu’s removal causes Mari considerable stress over having to do Guardian work solo now and needed to reach out to the temps more often as she unconsciously pushes Chat away. Aside from Alya and the Anti-Akuma charms (which are then rendered worthless by the introduction of Mega-Akuma), Mari gets nothing out of his departure except having to accept she can’t date while being a superhero (unless it’s Adrien, and even that still has issues the show won’t address) and constantly having to babysit the Kwami. She doesn’t even get help in the form of backup mentor!Su Han.There’s nothing positive gained out of having to deal with no longer having a mentor to guide her, and eventually, the loss of him is forgotten all together.

Risk/Strikeback - Marinette losing all the Kwami after getting tricked by Felix gets her a mental breakdown, a broken heart after trying to pursue Chat, and even more stress as she basically has the lives and freedom of three characters shoved into her hands with no one able to help her. She doesn’t gain a new power or new ally like last time either, which just serves to further put her against the wall. Hell, her eventual “life saving powerup” doesn’t even come from being directly cornered by the main villain, but from being faced by the spoiled brat bully he’s manipulating and deciding “Actually we aren’t detransforming anymore”. Meanwhile, the peak of her “character arc” for her civilian life is highly reliant on a newly introduced character that wasn’t even built up to and a recton episode that just serves to put every questionable act the writers had her engage in in a bad light just so they can foist responsibility of whatever flaws the fans complained about onto another character (as opposed to just going “yeah, but I got better” and moving on). She lost so much, but got very little out of it in the end.

Even when taking down her minor antags, Marinette gets nothing out of the deal - “Revolution” had her finally get the chance shut down Chloe for good and show she had no power over her, but by that point Chloe had become kind of pathetic in terms of villainy (not to mention her being the pawn of a bigger scheme that allowed the real masterminds to flee judgement) and Mari’s been dunking on her since episode 1 anyways, so it really wasn’t all that satisfying from a cathartic standpoint, nor does she gain anything character wise. Meanwhile, Lila getting exposed did nothing to really impede or harm her, and now she’s out in the wild with her 800+ fake families and the Butterfly miraculous, so what was really even the point of Marinette’s bathroom plan?

And then there’s “Recreation” and Gabriel - who gets to have his wish, his comatose wife alive, his son no longer (rightfully) hating his guts, the city adoring him, a goddamn statue, being credited for the city turning into a “utopia”, and all sorts of praises and perks he didn’t even earn/deserve, all at the small cost of his death and the plot forcing Marinette to keep her mouth shut for him. Gabriel gets to have everything he’s been throwing a tantrum over for 5 full seasons, while Marinette once again gets nothing (actually no, she did gain something - tons and tons of fandom salt aimed at her for the writers choices) as she’s forced to take on the burden of hiding his crimes.

and it just makes me feel we wasted our time with the story because seriously, what was the point? Why have Marinette lose when this should have been the point where all her losses so far helped her achieve victory when it matters most? Why let Gabriel win and reward him for all his abuses and crimes when the entire story seemed to be building up to getting him to either accept Emilie’s death or be forced to face the consequences of his choices? Why be building up that conflict between Adrien and his father about his wants and needs vs Gabriel’s constantly escalating expectations and not have them confront eachother in the end? Why focus so much on the idea of Mari finally getting the butterfly away from Gabriel if you’re just going to just give it to a new (old) villain and render the entire 5 season long battle for it pointless?

What was even the point in Marinette suffering all those defeats if you weren’t even going to let her win at the end, or at least stop Gabriel from getting what he wanted?

I’ll admit the leaks didn’t raise my expectations for this season but DAMNIT, after seeing them actually change stuff like Andre terrible dialogue in “Collusion” (though what he ends up saying is worse somehow), I expected something to prove it was going to be worth it in the end - and yet just like Mari, I’m venomed in the back by the show for daring having some expectation for them to actually care about making their Heroine’s suffering actually matter!

#Clover Rants Miraculously #ML Salt

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clueless-fan-critic · 1 year

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The Owl House Season 3 Review: Embracing Change

Season 3 of The Owl House concluded with an explosion of heartfelt emotions that no human has ever felt. Luz and her friends are sent into the Human Realm on the Day of Unity with Belos seemingly destroyed by the Collector. Now, with him/them free, the Boiling Isles just became a playground from the god child. As the three specials progress, we get to see how Luz, Eda, King, and many other characters are impacted by the story.

My overall impression was that Dana Terrace and the crew did fantastic with what they were given. This made it even more satisfying to how almost all loose ends were tied up. I loved every second of the specials right up til the end. Although that a fantastic show like the Owl House has left us, we won’t forget it for a very long time. Now, with that out of the way, I want to discuss in detail each special and what I believe their individual themes are.

Episode 1 “Thanks to Them”: Moving Forward

The first episode of Season 3 went off with bang, picking up where Season 2 ended with Luz and her friends in the Human Realm. Luz is grappling with the guilt of unintentionally helping Belos find the Collector while Amity, Hunter, Willow, and Gus adapt to their new settings.

What I love about this special is how the gang adapts to the Human Realm with Hunter thriving to become himself while Luz struggles with her own guilt. We get to see some levity for the gang before jumping back into the realm of chaos that will eventually come. Willow, Amity, and Gus acknowledge that their friendship took time to get there, implying their past experiences before. Halloween itself plays a roll in how we, as the audience, gets more backstory to Caleb and Phillip in the 1600s and their encounter with Evelyn. The holiday also has significance with how it’s a time where the veil between different worlds is at their weakest, thus playing into the gang finding a portal back to the Demon Realm.

Hunter has the most development with him finally accepting himself as his own person (due to being a Grimwalker) while letting people into his life. His confrontation with Belos possessing him makes more impactful about how he wants to learn to carve Palisman and be a normal student at Hexside. I liked that Hunter was given more agency to his character and flesh out how he’s adapting to his life outside of Belos’ influence.

Camilla gets more context to her reasons for sending Luz off to camp as she wanted to encourage Luz’s more eccentric traits, but felt that the people around her didn’t have their best interests at heart. In the flashbacks, it was revealed that the principle influenced her decision by bringing up that she had a hard time growing up and fitting in.

Luz’s guilt and trauma over what happened during the Day of Unity doesn’t exactly hinder her ability to enjoy her time in the Human Realm. In fact, she even teaches Camilla what she learned about Glyphs. But, she feels that she’s undeserving of her happiness and keeps messing things up. This prompted her decision to stay behind on Halloween. This is pushed aside when her friends encourage her to come with them to stop Belos. While not immediate, Luz does develop to overcome her trauma and not let that define what she does.

Overall, “Thanks to Them” was a fascinating and lovely beginning to the end of Season 3 and made me excited for what would happen next.

Episode 2 “For the Future”: Understanding Yourself

The gang returns to the Boiling Isles as the Collector “plays” with the residents as puppets while Belos tries to regain his strength. They are still reeling the previous events of “Thanks to Them” and still figuring out what happened with the Collector and the aftermath of the Day of Unity. We discover that the Collector is playing out “the Owl House” with King as a game of pretend using people transformed into life-sized toys. The gang find refuge in Hexside with other students under the command of Boscha manipulated by Kikimura. Belos is scrambling for a host to possess, resulting in taking control of Raine and manipulating the Collector once more. We get a cliffhanger with the gang reaching the Titan’s skull, Luz getting her Palisman, and the Collector starting a new “game.”

King and the Collector both stand out in this special as two different characters with almost identical lives as the children of god-like beings who grew up alone. Unlike the Collector, King found his own family in Eda and Luz, growing more mature and understanding before and after finding out his origins as a Titan. Now he wants to try reasoning with the Collector into freeing the people and without violence.

There are good moments of character growth from various characters like Amity choosing her own path against what Boscha wants her to be and Hunter learning to open up about how he feels. Also, Willow gets some growth (plant pun, ha) to becoming more open with her feelings after bottling her emotions for the sake of staying strong for the group.

Finally, we get to see Eda Clawthorne after recovering from her Owl Beast form as she trapped in the Collector’s castle by the Coven Heads as toys while reeling from Luz leaving the Demon Realm. She doesn’t have a lot to do, but it’s great to see her after a long time.

What I felt was pretty underwhelming were some characters like Odalia being a caretaker for King and the Collector, and even the main antagonist Kikimura felt like a one-off bad guy. I would of liked to see more exchanges between Kikimura and the gang about the state of the Coven system and Belos’ reveal as a witch hunter. Like Kikimura still wants to follow the system blindly and make herself the new emperor in spite of its failings, while the gang make their arguments against it.

Luz finally learns to overcome her guilt by having a heart-to-heart with her mother Camilla about how Camilla was much like Luz as a teen but wanted her to grow up without being bullied. This finally allows her Palisman to emerge from their egg after Luz realizes that she wanted to be understood for who she was and have someone know this and embrace her, flaws and all.

Sure, “For the Future” wasn’t the best overall, but it does get the ball rolling. Now, we finally reached the point of no return. Let’s talk about the final special and episode of The Owl House “Watching and Dreaming”.

Episode 3 “Watching and Dreaming”: Embracing the Future

Luz Noceda must face her greatest challenge as Belos possesses the Titan to destroy the Isles once and for all in the final special and episode of the series. Luz, Eda, and King are trapped by the Collector in nightmares surrounding their fears and guilt, but are freed because of the Light Glyph. We get a sort of victory lap around the Boiling Isles as Luz, Eda, and King show the Collector the places that hold the most significance in their lives while teaching him about making friends. Luz is killed and then revived as Titan Luz by the Titan themselves and defeats Belos once and for all. After a time jump, Luz is attending the University of Wild Magic in the Demon Realm with Eda as headmaster, as well as a glimpse into everyone’s lives as they gather for Luz’s King-ceanera. One final scene ends with the entire party saying “Byyyyeee” to the Collector and the audience.

One of the more impactful scenes comes from Luz’s nightmare created by the Collector when each of her friends tells her off about being the villain and everything happening to them was her fault. The ones that hurt the most was Gus saying Luz is a hypocrite for getting her back to the Human Realm while their families are missing and Hunter for how Luz got a Palisman while he lost his own. These details seem like the kind of ideas in Luz’s mind that she make herself feel guilty over. I liked the part that Luz recognizes the trick by hearing “Witch’s Battle” instead of “Witch’s Duel” to cement her fan girl nature of spotting small details from the Good Witch Azura.

Another scene is when Luz, Eda, and King tell the Collector about how they’ve felt alone, abandoned, and misunderstood, but now want to show him how they became friends and a family. They lead him all over the Boiling Isles to have him understand how to make friends without forcing people. First to the Owl House where Luz tells the Collector about meeting her friends and then to the Knee where Luz connected with the Titan. She finally tells him that people are complex and need some kindness and forgiveness. I liked that she tries to teach the Collector about her time because it really did make a great deal of change within her.

The Collector gets major development as we find out he doesn’t understand the concept of death and is using the games he plays as a way to “pretend” to have friends who won’t lie or trick him. Luz taught him about empathy and understanding in order to make friends, only to fail with Belos killing Luz. This leads up to The Collector finally understanding what he’s done as he breaks down in tears while Eda and King turn monstrous from grief. He tries to make up for it by saving the gang in the castle from falling. In the end, he returns to space in order to “grow up” but not before a farewell gift from King.

I loved that Raine Whispers gets a much more significant role in the final special by breaking free from Belos’ possession, trying to stop him, and as a part of the team who takes out Belos. This is great for nonbinary representation to go beyond and become more than just flat cutouts and more fleshed out.

We finally meet the "King and Queen, best of both things” themselves Papa Titan when Luz ends up in the In-Between realm. They explain to Luz, thinking she’s just like Belos, that their feelings to protect their families are genuine while Belos’ desire to save humanity stems from his need of control.

The final death of Belos caught my attention because he does the exact same tactics of manipulating people into getting what he wants and Luz basically being done with his games. This gives us that Belos hasn’t even tried changing his tactics even on the brink of death. We are also treated to the best scene with Eda, King, and Raine curb-stomping Belos to death, treating his death less epic and more hilarious.

“Watching and Dreaming“ was an epic series finale, the animation, story, and characters just flowed almost perfectly with a few nitpicks like the Light Glyph Deus Ex Machina. It almost felt like something that was part of an episode between specials. But that’s nothing with the incredible finale we got out of it.

Conclusion

After watching all of the season, The Owl House gave an uplifting end to its run. The ending was a perfect sendoff to all that Dana Terrace and her team did for the show and what it has given us as an audience. The animation was a major treat with Titan Luz fighting Belos with all the flashy blasts and the smoothness of the movements. That wouldn’t matter if the story wasn’t almost flawless with everything that happened behind the scenes, which is honestly a miracle with most shows that ended abruptly. Most of the characters feel as if they came full circle in their development. I loved every moment of this show (with some exceptions but that’s not important) and hoped for another show like this in the future as an example for years to come.

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rachelbethhines · 2 years

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Tangled Bonus Marathon - Hair-Raising Adventures (Tangled: the Series Comic)

Introduction

You know the drill. This is the third graphic novel collection of the IDW Tangled the Series comic. It’s more of the same... but also not. We see a bit of a shift this issue with longer, plot heavier stories, that attempt to connect to the main show’s on going story arc more. With ‘attempt’ being the key word here. Let’s dive in.

Content

Repeat if Necessary

The ‘Summer Sun Festival’ is going on, (which doesn’t make a whole lot of sense given season one’s timeline, but whatever) and Rapunzel wants to have the most perfect day. So she plans everything out to a tee... only to keep messing things up because she won’t go with the flow.

A mysterious old woman gives her a magic lantern that will send her back in time for just one day. What follows from there is basically a Groundhog’s Day scenario, where Rapunzel keeps repeating the festival over and over, only to make things worse and worse the more she tries to control things.

It’s not until she finally learns to accept things as they are and to be adaptable that she manages to have a fun day out with her friends and so refuses the gift, ending the time loop. We later find out that the old woman is unnamed Zhan Tiri supporter.

It’s a far better time traveling episode than what the show actually gave us. In fact this story is better than a large chunk of episodes from the main show. It’s not anything astoundingly amazing, but it functions better as ‘a filler’ story than most.

There’s clear set-up and resolve. The main character actually learns something! *gasp!* And there’s hints to the wider story arc and series lore, that while it not necessary, adds a level of interest and intrigue. Sadly, it doesn’t actually connect back to the show due to Season three’s re-writes, but it’s prove that once upon a time, Tangle the Series used to have writers involved that actually cared about decent continuity.

The Madness

The second story also does a lot of things more successfully than the main series as well.

For one, we get an actual mother/daughter adventure. Even though the idea that Frederic would allow Rapunzel to travel outside the kingdom on diplomatic visits kind of undermines season one’s main conflict. (She wants to travel, so find her ways to travel doing princess things with the body guards you want her to have, meh)

The second thing it does better, is that it pulls off whole ‘girl is driven by jealously and mommy issues to conquer a kingdom at the encouragement of a mean girl demon with ill defined goals using a powerful magical object to subjugate people, but all she really wants is a ‘friend’ (i.e. Rapunzel) and is brought to reason with some love and understanding’ plotline than season three, mainly because they make the girl in question a seven year old!

It makes far more sense for a child to lash out like that than a grown ass woman, Chris!

Anyways, Rapunzel and her mom go to visit one of Arianna’s friends in another kingdom. There they find the young princess is kind of spoiled and orders everyone about. Turns out she wasn’t raised like this, but was given a magic wand that forces people to be mind controlled by her. Said wand was given to her by her ‘handmaiden; who turns out to be another Zhan Tiri supporter.

However, Rapunzel’s hair, for ill-explained reasons, can release people from the mind control and the wand’s power doesn’t work on her. After talking to the little girl she realizes that the child is just super lonely because her mother is too busy working to give her the attention that she needs, so after a heart to heart the young princess apologizes.

Which is when the ‘not-handmaiden’ reveals herself and her manipulation, but is easily defeated when Rapunzel destroys the wand.

I think I like this story a little less than the first, but it’s still a strong entry.

Save the Date

This one is pure fluff, but it’s good fluff.

Rapunzel has the day off and Eugene has a whole bunch of romantic things planned for them. (including hiring Varian to build a chocolate fountain.) Only their date keeps getting interrupted by various mishaps as Rapunzel keeps stopping to ‘help’ people. And to be fair she does help, but nothing she does majorly changes anything and only furthers to make Eugene’s day more miserable. In the end though they have a heart to heart while dancing in the alone in the town square.

This is literally some of the best writing for New Dream I’ve ever seen. In fact it’s so good that it’s borderline out of character. They’re actually having a mature conversation about themselves, about their relationship, and what they can both do to improve upon it!

Seriously, where was this in the actual show!?

The only complaint I have, and it’s very minor, is that Rapunzel should have offered to compensate the fishermen for his lost catch. No, it wasn’t her fault that he lost it, but as a ruler, it’s kind of her job to take care of her people and their livelihoods. And if she’s so focused on ‘helping’, than that would be a far better way to do it, because she’s fucking rich!

Misadventure’s in Camouflage: Hide and Seek

The two page shorts return in this mini-anthology focusing on Pascal.

Pascal and a young Rapunzel are playing hide and seek in the tower. Pascal gets the idea to hide in plain sight among a bunch of paintings of himself that Rapunzel drew earlier.

It’s cute, but there’s nothing else beyond that. It’s the weakest of the three shorts.

Misadventure’s in Camouflage: Humble Pie

The second story is slightly stronger, with Pascal trying to steal a freshly baked pie from under a young Rapunzel’s nose. Only to fail when he falls directly into the pie itself.

This is one is also fluff, but it at least has more of a set up and resolution.

Misadventure’s in Camouflage: Up a Wall

This is the strongest of the Pascal’s shorts, probably because it also double’s as a Max story too.

While teaching a sword fighting lesson for the troops, the Captain entrust Max to hold his helmet. But when Max loses it, it’s up to Pascal to retrieve the hat before Cap notices its missing.

This one has like actual stakes, and a real conflict. Plus there’s more character interaction instead of relying on Pascal’s supposed ‘cuteness’ alone to maintain interest.

Presentation

The artwork inside is of course superb as always and on the same level as the previous IDW comics. However, as an added bonus this issue features variant covers as well, which is a nice addition.

Would I Recommend It

This is the best bunch of comics so far. The IDW graphic novels only keep getting better and better. Of course this gets a strong recommendation from me.

Next Up

We got another activity book, Tangled the Series: Magical Adventures.

Also the salt marathon is winding down. We only got two more streams to go, tomorrow and next week.

#tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #tangled #idw comics #tangled comics

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starguide61 · 2 years

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gifted-burnout-archive · 4 years

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Who Would’ve Thought

Requested?: yes! so this is a mashup of sorts. I got three separate requests: the first being an interview scene with a bitchy reporter, the second a y/n x luke with some enemies to lovers and an argument, but the actors get on really well, and the third was for a similar teasing, y/n x luke concept. This doesn’t quite cover every part of each request, but it gets a bit of all of them in, ya know?

Word count:

Author’s Note: i think this is the point where i just accept i am a jatp smut writer, right? i mean, it was only a matter of time before it happened... i liked this, writing it was so much fun, if you like this and want more send it in to me!

Warning: this became fluffy smut, you’re very welcome.

the masterlist is here, because i have more stuff like this.

“Ok, ok.” The laughs around set subsided after Madison’s joke, the reporter sitting up a little straighter and coughing to compose himself. “I have to ask, and I have to know since that trailer dropped last week… Y/N, I think everyone watching wants to find out a bit more about you and the character you’re bringing to season two?” He asked, turning his attention from the show’s star to the young woman sat beside her, who was wiping tears from the corners of her eyes, trying to stop laughing.

“What is it you want to know?” She asked, sharing a smiling with Madi as she too sat up straight in her chair once more, running a hand through her hair and crossing one leg over the other, all triggers to help her subside the giggles waiting to erupt from her chest, to calm down and get back to the professionalism she had practiced in her bedroom mirror.

“Well, for starters, what’s it been like, joining the Julie and the Phantoms crew? Am I right in saying this is your breakout role, just like it was for Madison last season?” He asked, and Y/N nodded, gripping Madi’s hand in hers.

“Yeah, it is. And I’ll tell you something, I wouldn’t have known what to do on day one without Madi. The closest I came to acting, to television, before this was when I played a tree in my kindergarten school play.” She explained, glancing past the reporter’s shoulder to see Kenny stood watching them with a grin, sending a thumbs up her way. Her body relaxed a little. “Yeah, I auditioned as a dare from a friend at college and, well…” She smiled wider. “Seems like the best decision I’ve ever made.”

“And from what I can tell, the rest of the cast sat in on your audition?” The reporter asked, looking to both girls for an answer.

“Not the first one.” Madi cleared up. “But Kenny and the casting team loved Y/N, and wanted to make sure she was the perfect fit. They had her perform on the sound stage, and the rest of us just sort of snuck in to watch.” She explained, letting go of Y/N’s hand to gesture as she spoke. “We were all just blown away, and Charlie was the first to shout out after she finished. He called out… What did he say?” Madi asked Y/N, who was laughing to herself at the memory.

“Kenny, will you hire her already?” Y/N answered, and the reporter chuckled again. “And from that moment on, I was Grace.”

“Yes, Grace, our mysterious new rebel child. What can you tell us about her?”

“Ok, so, we’ve got Kenny on standby in case I mess up and give away too much.” Y/N prefaced. “So, Grace is the new girl at Los Feliz High, Carrie’s cousin, and coming in with a bit of reputation where we left off season one. I think the best way to describe would be a musical influencer?” She glanced to Madi, who nodded in agreement. “Bit of a rebel, bit of a spanner in the works for Juke despite her and Luke quite adamantly disliking each other.” She added, and the reporter was nodding his head feverishly.

“Yeah, the trailer seemed to show it. Is that the character’s big goal, breaking up our OTP?” He asked, and Y/N bit her lip as she thought for a moment.

“I think she’s a character with a lot of growth, you get a lot from her in the season, which I was so honoured to bring to the table. We’re doing some reshoots tomorrow, finalising one of the big scenes the trailer didn’t show. I can’t say a lot, but Grace is definitely causing some tension this season, throwing in some music of her own too.” Y/N added, quick to change the subject of discussion to something she knew she was safe to talk on.

“What was it like, working with the rest of the cast on the new season’s album?” The reporter quizzed, taking the hint. “Madi, we heard you and Y/N singing together on the trailer, saw it in one of the stills, I can only wonder how two such talented singers get into each other’s rhythm, especially with the difference in genre. Obviously, Madi you have piano, but with Y/N on guitar, I just wonder how it all worked out while filming?”

“We actually wrote the song for the trailer, along with Charlie. The three of us brainstormed the thing for the first few weeks of filming, just like Charlie and I did with Perfect Harmony last season.” Madi explained. “And you know, we all come from very different musical backgrounds, and it allowed for this amazing mixture of pop and rock and grunge that just works. You only hear a snippet of our song, but just wait until you hear the full thing.” She was beaming, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile and nod along.

“The day we recorded it, man, we were all just electric. There’s this section with the guitars…” Y/N paused. “That I won’t spoil… You can tell this is my first press junket, right?” She laughed, earning chuckles from the studio. No-one blamed her for being new, she was learning quickly enough that it wasn’t a problem.

“So, on the topic of Charlie, who is waving at us right now from behind the camera,” The reporter paused as the girls laughed and waved past the camera recording them all at their co-star. “I have to ask about Julie and Luke, and now this new dimension of Grace.” The girls nodded, a question they both had expected and prepared for. “Madi, are we getting a Juke kiss this season?”

“I really can’t spoil it. It’s not fair… But their relationship does take a few turns, it’s a really interesting subplot.” She said with ease, a rehearsed line.

“And what about Grace? What are her feelings around Juke? Jealousy, perhaps?” The reporter questioned, and Y/N glanced over his shoulder to Kenny, who nodded for her to go ahead.

“Oh, she’s definitely jealous, though it might not be the reason you initially think of.” She said with a smile, quite proud of herself for keeping the answer vague enough, a light switching on on the camera to alert of their time finishing. Y/N smiled, getting herself ready to stand up, glad she had ended the interview on a good answer, when the reporter held up a hand for her and Madi to pause.

“And I mean, that chemistry seems to be translating off-screen too, no?” The reporter pressed on forward with his questions. “I mean, the chemistry you and Charlie have off-screen, Madison, is pretty clear. Is there jealousy off screen from you Y/N?” He asked, the questions turning from family-friendly to gossipy rather quickly. The executive producers stood behind the reporter had lost their smiles, Ortega and Becker ready to march forward and end the interview themselves.

But then, Y/N burst into uncontrollable laughter as a response, Madi quickly joining in one the sole base that Y/N was a rather infectious person. Soon, the whole cast was laughing along, the reporter left in the dark as the camera shut off and the girls left the press set stage in giggles, the crew suddenly moving quickly to start packing up for the night, the reporter being led off by assistants as the girls made their way over to their waiting friends and castmates.

The interview had been Y/N’s first and the team’s last of the day, and with the next day being their final shoot day for the season, the younger cast members had decided to celebrate and go out to dinner together, a pre-celebration to the wrap party the next day.

Stood by the studio’s exit was the rest of the dinner party: Jadah, Savannah, Owen, Tori, Sacha, Jeremy, Booboo, Tori, Kyra, Sofia, Halle, and Charlie, the last of whom swung his arm over Y/N’s shoulder as she and Madi joined the group, starting out for a restaurant on the far side of the lot.

“Not bad for a rookie, sweetheart.” Charlie spoke with a teasing tone, earning an elbow to the ribs from his friend. The pair had been inseparable for the whole year, since Y/N got the role in fact, and his arm across her shoulders was such a familiar and comforting feeling, that she found herself cuddling into him as they got out onto the lot and the Vancouver wind chill hit hard. Without pause, Charlie shrugged off his jacket and sat it over Y/N’s shoulders, the pair sharing a smile.

“You know, you should invest in shirts with sleeves, Gillespie.” She muttered, rolling her eyes as he responded with a smirk, flexing his biceps as his arm settled back over her, this time Y/N’s hand coming up and their fingers interlocking as they followed the group towards the restaurant. Madi and Savannah were up front with the other Dirty Candy girls, all singing one of the new songs from the show as they skipped their way across the lot, while Jadah, Sacha, Owen, Booboo and Jeremy were in the middle of the group, seemingly discussing what they were getting for dinner, confirmed when Owen started to rave about one of the desserts the restaurant had rather loudly.

Y/N watched the scene with a smile, watched all her friends with a smile. She knew she was lucky, she reminded herself of it every day she spent with the group of amazing people she had come to call her family. The move to Vancouver for filming was a huge shift, and she had initially thought she’d be alone and homesick, spending all her free time at her rented flat reading out scripts to her walls, but it hadn’t been the case. The cast had adopted her like she had been there since day one, they made her feel welcome and at home in the foreign city, Charlie especially. He was the one who got her out of her shell, who made sure to invite her to every dinner and party and hangout in the first few weeks of filming. He was the one who played guitar with her, who came and stayed with her for a week when she was unwell and stuck inside her little flat.

He was the one who was watching her at that moment in time, a dopey smile on his face as he pulled her closer into his side, pressing a kiss to the side of her head as they followed their friends round a corner, their destination that night coming into view, along with some extra familiar faces.

“Gotta be careful, Y/N, Charlie has a habit of passing on his fleas.” The teasing came from Charlie’s sister Meg, who slipped through the small crowd to hug her brother and his best friend hello.

“Don’t worry, I’ve been getting him treated.” Y/N responded with a grin, the pair sharing a tight hug before Meg moved on to squeeze her brother in hello, both girls smiling at his surprised expression.

“I didn’t know you were coming over.” He guffawed, his smile radiating as he hugged Meg tightly, Y/N moving off to greet Carolynn, Jeremy’s wife, who had also surprised with her appearance. By the look of pride on Owen’s face, it was pretty clear who had planned the gift for his friends. Y/N held out a fist to Owen, who quickly pounded his own against it before the girl continued walking, making her way to Savannah’s side as they found their table in the restaurant far corner, the pair getting themselves sat down. With the two playing cousins on the show, they had both made an effort to get closer, an effort Y/N had made with the whole cast, though her and Savannah got on like a house on fire: they were the same age, and had assumed the roles of big sisters to the younger cast members like Madison and Jadah.

“Charlie’s jacket looks good on you.” Savannah commented with a wink, and Y/N rolled her eyes, shrugging the item off just as Charlie and Meg entered the restaurant with Jeremy, Carolynn and Owen.

“You need to stop; you know Kenny has started commenting on what a good couple we’d make thanks to you?” Y/N questioned, and Savannah nodded with a proud smile. “I suppose you actively put the idea in his head?” She quizzed further, receiving another nod.

“We’re all just waiting for you to get together at this point.” Savannah said with a shrug, a few sets of eyes looking over.

“What, Y/N and Charlie?” Sacha asked from across the table. “Oh, yeah, definitely.”

“Every three months we start a pool and bet on specific dates for you two finally giving in and dating.” Booboo said through a mouthful of bread. “Whoever gets closest is going to be so, so rich.”

“How many people are in on this?” Y/N asked, wide eyed with raised eyebrows. It was new information, at least to her it was, but the rest of the table had heard it all before.

“Sixty three.” Tori answered, sending over a wink as the table burst into laughter, quickly shutting up as the final members of their party started sitting themselves down, Charlie sliding himself along the booth chair to sit beside Y/N, Meg on his other side.

“What’s the joke?” He asked with a cocked brow, and Y/N shook her head, warning him to not venture any further. “Better not to ask, got it.”

“So, we’re thinking of karaoke later?” Kyra spoke up from the top of the table, earning nods from around the table. “Perfect, I’ll book the room.” She said quickly, typing away on her phone to set the group’s plans for the evening in stone.

“Maybe Y/N and Charlie can give us their ABBA medley.” Jadah suggested with a wiggle of her eyebrows, sat on the other side of Savannah. Y/N gave her the finger while Charlie chuckled, throwing an arm over her shoulder.

“Come on, it wouldn’t hurt you, would it Y/N?” Charlie asked, using his best puppy dog eyes on the girl, who reached to grab a slice of bread before Booboo finished it all, chewing it thoughtfully.

“Only if Sacha is our Dancing Queen.” Y/N said with a happy sigh, the blonde boy across the table nodding quickly.

“Happy to do it. Yes. Yes.” He nodded fast, feigning a bow as the table cheered, Charlie looking over at Y/N with a soft smile. She smiled back before resting her head on his shoulder, a part of her still recuperating from the interview. How these guys had done multiple that day, how Madi had sat through almost every single one, Y/N couldn’t figure it out; but the thoughts faded away as menus were brought over and drinks ordered, setting the evening off on the right foot.

By the time food was placed down, the topic of conversation was focused on Carolynn and Jeremy’s dogs, the pair quite happy to show off photos of their fur babies as castmates ate around them, with brief interruptions to talk about the upcoming wrap party the day after, and discussions of the season two premiere plans the following month. With the filming almost finished up, everyone was making plans to head back home to families as they all awaited the news of renewal for a third season. Apartments in Vancouver were being packed up, Y/N herself had started the process of boxing up the life she had made over the past year in the city, with her friends, to ship back off home.

“You alright?” A whisper came into Y/N’s ear, pulling her from her zoned out state as she twirled spaghetti mindlessly round her fork, blinking a few times before looking over at Charlie, who watched her with concern in his eyes. She nodded a little, setting down her fork and taking a sip of her soft drink before shaking her head, lifting up Charlie’s beer and taking a swig, frowning at the taste but swallowing anyway.

“Just thinking about leaving is all.” She muttered back, shrugging a little before trying again on her pasta, eating a mouthful before continuing. “Just, what happens once we wrap for the season? What happens if the show doesn’t get renewed?” She asked quietly. “I don’t want to lose all you guys… I just got you.” She tried to make a joke of it, but the thought had been weighing on her mind for a while. Would they all stay friends? Keep in contact even though they would be spread over the globe?

“I can assure you, sweetheart, no-one will be losing contact with you. If any of these guys love you half as much as I do, they won’t be able to say goodbye to someone as awesome as you.” Charlie whispered in her ear, his hot breath fanning over her neck, and Y/N blushed a little, taking his free hand in hers and giving it a quick squeeze to say thank you.

“How’s it all going, everyone?” The server broke apart the moment and halted the rest of the table’s conversations, Y/N and Charlie quickly dropping their hands and turning back to their own meals as the rest of the table chorused compliments of the food, Booboo and Jadah insistent that dessert menus be brought along as soon as possible. A quick glance around the table revealed that Y/N was extremely far behind the rest of the table in finishing her meal, but her appetite had suddenly disappeared, most likely from the melancholy.

“Could I get a triple vodka coke?” Y/N asked the waiter before he left, smiling up at him as she closed her cutlery.

“Of course, miss. Anymore drinks?” He asked, jotting down a cocktail for Halle and another small glass of wine for Jeremy, disappearing back into the main body of the restaurant as the last few party members finished their meals, drinks arriving with dessert menus.

“A toast.” Jeremy raised his glass, prompting the rest of the table to follow suit. “To Julie and the Phantoms, to found family… And to another season.” He thought over the words as he spoke, Carolynn watching him with adoring eyes, their hands linked atop the table. The toast was met with cheers, Owen letting out a rather loud ‘Whoop!’ as glasses were clinked and drinks were sipped, the night only just beginning.

Kenny Ortega was rather glad he had left Y/N and Charlie’s big confrontation scene for their last day of shooting, and after walking into work the following day and finding, quite literally, everyone glued to their phone screens, he decided to check his own Instagram.

The night before had been a success for the young cast, and after dinner the group had travelled into the centre of town for a night of drinks and karaoke, the evening’s highlight being the video that was circulating that morning, of Charlie and Y/N sharing a mic as they sang ‘Waterloo’ by ABBA: Owen had caught the whole thing and put it on his story.

That video was also followed by a photo of Y/N and Charlie sleeping on the couch together at Owen and Charlie’s place later that night.

There was a level of professionalism that had to be maintained in a workplace for productivity, but the ‘something more’ friendship the two guitarists shared had caught the attention of the whole team. It had started betting pools and conspiracies and a game amongst the team to catch pictures of the pair acting like a couple. The kids had started it, of course, but seeing the way the two interacted both on and off-screen had gotten the rest of the crew involved. There was an undeniable connection there, and the waiting game was part of the fun.

And so, as the cast started to arrive for the 12 pm call time on location at the garage, all the reshoots that day needing midday sunshine, no-one was surprised to see Charlie carrying Y/N into work on his back as the pair shared a joke. In fact, they were quite excited to see how they would react to the final scene they had to shoot.

Kenny had given them both the script the week before, but refrained from discussing it with the pair until that day, partially pressured by the likes of Savannah and Owen, simply because an authentic kiss, without the practice or specific instruction from the director, would make for better tv. The plan was to get some close ups, positioning them for certain moments, then run it through once, getting as many extra shots as possible, with the hope being they could do it in one take. At best, it would work, and at worst, both Charlie and Y/N were still actors, and could make a kiss look real.

It took about an hour or so for the cast to get through the makeup, hair and costume departments, and Kenny pulled in Jeremy, Owen and Madi for some reshoots first, leaving Y/N wandering with a bottle of water in one hand and her script in the other, pacing back and forth as she ran the lines over and over again in her head.

The scene was an important one, the start of Juke’s conflict for the season, of Grace’s and Julie’s friendship being tested. From what else the girls had filmed over the past few months, it was clear that the season would leave their friendship on a cliff-hanger, this scene being the catalyst. And it was funny for Y/N, to go from her friendship with Charlie to being Grace, the girl that hated Luke. It took her a little while to get into the right headspace, though it wasn’t easy with all eyes on her, nor with the teasing she was receiving from friends about the night before, and her crashing at Charlie’s. It wasn’t news, Y/N sleeping over at Charlie’s, or vice versa; it was common place actually, after the first few months of friendship it just became a norm for them.

Grace’s character arc was one of reckless abandon, and she almost becomes a bad influence on Luke’s bandmates with her risky ideas and rebellious attitude. They had shot the previous scene, in which Julie falls down the school bleachers while with Grace and twists her ankle badly, the character very lucky it wasn’t worse. And Luke, already disliking Grace, confronts her when the girl comes looking to apologise. The tension that they had built over the season boils over, and Grace kisses Luke, the first time either of them have touched before.

Y/N was a little nervous about that last part.

She was an actress, but it would be her first on-screen kiss, and while the thought of it being with her best friend should have eased her mind, it did anything but. Kissing Charlie, whether she wanted to admit it or not, was probably going to be awkward, cause a rift between the two for at least a little while. And that would have been fine, if they weren’t all heading off home to separate corners of the world for however long.

“You look worried.” It was Owen’s voice that pulled her from her thoughts, the girl turning to find him leaning against the prop table nearby, arms folded and a look of concern on his face. “You alright?” He asked, glancing back over at the set. Jeremy and Madison were still getting some reshoots done, and Charlie was with Savannah and Booboo over in costumes, chatting away as the seamstress sat his clothes just right.

“I don’t really know…” Y/N admitted, looking back at Owen with a shrug. “I mean, I just…” She paused, letting out a sigh. “I’m worried things might be weird? Worried I might suck at the whole kissing thing, ruin the last scene we have to shoot?” She explained, glancing back down at her script as Owen watched on, thoughtful.

“Y/N, you’re a good actress. If the last year has proved anything, it’s that you are meant for this role. You’ve just gotta… You’ve gotta embody Grace, don’t think of it as you and Charlie anymore, because I know that’s what you’ve been doing for the past week. It’s Luke and Grace, yeah?” Owen stopped to make sure Y/N was following, and she nodded. “We need to get you into that headset before we start, alright? You know how to be Grace; you need to get into her before the cameras start rolling. I mean, you’re already dressed like her.” Owen gestured to the clothes she was in, and Y/N smiled.

She did already feel a bit like Grace in the outfit, style choices she had helped to make at the start of the season. To contrast from Carrie, she offset her cousin’s pink and preppy wardrobe with dark colours: Y/N was currently in black jumper with red detailing, paired with a short, tight black denim skirt and a belt that pulled in her waist, plus the fishnet tights and sturdy doc martens her character would soon be known for. Those shoes were the only pair she had worn all season. The makeup and hair team had left her looking flawless, with her hair curling and her eyeliner in a perfect wing.

The more she thought about Owen’s words, the less anxiety she felt.

The more she felt like Grace.

“Ok, ok… We’re getting somewhere.” She informed her friend, Owen holding out an arm for Y/N to link with, the pair beginning a sure march over towards the set, watching Madi finish the last few takes.

“You need anything else?” Owen asked, raising an eyebrow to the shorter girl when she nodded, watching her take a deep breath.

“Put on some music? Just… Something fun?” Y/N asked, having faith that music would completely rid her of her nerves for the scene. Kenny called cut, Madi and Jeremy making their way off set with smiles as they headed towards Owen and Y/N, the blonde boy connecting his phone to the nearby Bluetooth speaker while the set was changed for her and Charlie’s scene.

“I can’t believe this is the end of season two… Y/N? You ok?” Jeremy commented then questioned as he came over with Madison, the latter reaching a comforting out to Y/N’s arm.

“She’s getting in the zone.” Owen explained, finally deciding on a song, the music playing around them and earning a few cheers from the other cast mates, Charlie looking over from where he stood with Savannah and Booboo, his eyes landing on Y/N, who had begun swaying along with the song. She had a habit of this, using music to get into character, though it was usually through headphones in some far off corner.

“Loving you isn’t the right thing to do.” The speaker sang out the Fleetwood Mac hit, Booboo and Savannah beginning to dance along by Charlie as he watched Y/N from across the room, curious as to what she might do. “How can I ever change things that I feel?” Lindsey Buckingham’s voice resonated around the room, and Charlie took a step closer to his main castmates, watching as Madi held Y/N’s hand, quickly realising why the music was blaring.

Y/N was nervous.

“If I could, baby I’d give you my world.” The tracks vocals were overshadowed as Charlie began to sing, heads spinning to look at him as he spun himself around and started his way towards Y/N. “How can I, when you won’t take it from me?” He sang, holding out a hand for her to join him. They were both well aware that two things in particular made Y/N feel better: the first was music, the second was Charlie. With a push from Madi and Owen, Y/N could no longer hide the smile that was forming on her face, taking Charlie’s hand as he led her into a space in the room’s centre. While the crew set up for their scene, cast and producers watched on as the pair got into character.

“You can go your own way!” Y/N sang out, spinning under Charlie’s arm with a grin that scrunched up her nose and made Charlie smile right back, singing the response harmony of the chorus. “You can call it another lonely day!” The pair sang together, Kenny himself starting a clap in time with the music, the whole set soon joining in, cheering the pair on as they got themselves into character.

“Tell me why, everything turned around. Packing up, shacking up is all you wanna do.” Charlie sang scowling at Y/N with his rather adorable grumpy face, and Y/N held a hand out to stop him from coming any closer, playing the part of Grace.

“If I could, baby I’d give you my world. Open up, everything’s waiting for you.” She sang, bouncing a little as she sang, shaking away the last of her nerves as the second chorus came in, the whole room singing along now.

“You can go your own way, go your own way. You call it another lonely day!” As the crew finished setting up the garage for their scene, Charlie grabbed Y/N’s hand as squeezed it tightly.

“We’ve got this, alright?” He reassured, and she nodded, the pair getting into places as the music slowly died down and their fellow castmates and crew members cheered.

“Feeling better?” Kenny asked as the two got into positions, Charlie sat inside the garage as Y/N stood just beyond the doors, being handed a bouquet of flowers by the props manager.

“A lot, yeah.” She smiled, and Kenny gave her shoulder a pat.

“Just go for it, alright? Give it everything, give it electricity, you’ve got this.” His motivational words brought a smirk to Y/N’s face.

“I know I do.” She answered with a nod, Kenny walking back to behind the cameras and taking a seat, Y/N taking a one more moment to focus herself before Kenny yelled ‘action!’.

Grace wasn’t used to feeling guilty about anything, it just wasn’t a part of the life she enjoyed: she wasn’t an inherently bad person, though it could be argued she was a bad influence. As she stood in Julie’s driveway, a bouquet of flowers in hand, she felt like a bad influence. No, worse than that.

She felt like a bad friend.

Julie wouldn’t be in this mess if Grace hadn’t convinced her to go out with her the night before. Of course, she should have known that this time of year, with the uncommon rainfall and milder weather, that the bleachers would have been slippery. Grace should have suggested going somewhere else, shouldn’t have rushed up the steps and forced Julie to follow.

And while flowers weren’t going to help a lot with the twisted ankle, she hoped they’d lift Julie’s spirits a little. The doctors said it wasn’t serious, just a week or so in a pressure sock to stop anymore damage, and Julie had promised her the day before she was fine, but even so. Grace had picked out dahlias, Julie’s favourite, and was hoping to bump into Alex or Reggie or Carlos, leave them with her apology for Julie without much confrontation.

Instead, heading up the driveway and pulling open the garage door, she was welcomed by the sound of an acoustic guitar, and a frown settled on her features. Of course, of all the people it could have been, Luke was the one at home.

“What are you doing here?” He asked quickly, jumping up from the couch and setting down his guitar. Grace sighed, a roll of her eyes causing Luke to scoff.

“You know, I’d punch you if I could ghost boy.” She muttered, setting the flowers down on the coffee table. “I just wanted to leave something for Julie, alright? Don’t get your…” She paused, thinking for a moment. “Do you have underwear? I mean, ghost clothing isn’t exactly my specialty.”

“You’ve got some nerve showing up here after what you did to Julie.” Luke said coldly, arms folded across his chest as they stood at opposite sides of the room. He took a few steps to the side, lifting himself up onto the piano. Luke liked to have the high ground.

“What I did to her? Luke, she fell over. It was an accident!” She exclaimed in response, already riled up just being in the boy’s presence. She wasn’t quite sure why she had been cursed with the ability of being able to see Luke at all times, but she wasn’t going to let her annoyance with the guitarist go unsaid.

“An accident that could’ve killed her!” Luke snapped back. “What if she had hit her head instead of just twisting her ankle? Can you answer me that Miss Influencer?” He asked, and for the first time since the pair had met, Grace didn’t answer him back. Luke scoffed; quite certain he had won. “I don’t know what voodoo you put my friends under to make them like you, but I promise I see right through you. Through the clothes and the Instagram followers. All of it.”

“Do you think I wasn’t scared for her? Huh, Luke?” Grace snapped back. “I was the one there, watching her fall down the bleachers, the one who rushed after her and called her dad. Where were you, exactly?” She asked, a smirk settling on her lips. “You know, Lover Boy, if I remember correctly, you were off moping because I’m a better guitarist.” Her tongue came out to graze her bottom lip as she smiled, walking over to Luke’s electric that sat on a nearby stand.

“First off, you aren’t. It’s quite clear who’s better between the two of us.” Luke fought back, jumping off the table and marching over to pick up his guitar before Grace touched it. “And second, I wouldn’t have left her if you hadn’t been there. Because actually, Grace, it’s you that’s the problem!” He had raised his voice as he walked back across the room, setting his guitar atop the piano. Grace scoffed; he just didn’t want her touching his things.

“Right, because Julie can’t have friends if it’s not you, right?!” She was almost yelling now as well, but it was to be expected of the pair. Every conversation they had had was building to this argument. Every conversation they had shared was just bickering. “Hey Mr Invisible Man, news flash! Your crush is allowed to have relationships outside of you! I realise being dead is probably very boring, but Julie’s alive.”

“I just don’t think my friends should be associating with someone as infuriating as you, Grace!” Luke turned to face her again, all wide eyes and gestures. “I didn’t think I could hate people before I met you! I’ve had my music stolen; I’ve almost been enslaved for eternity; I died! And yet, the person I despise most in this world is you. Congratulations!”

“I take it as a compliment! You know, I’m honestly proud that I’m not friends with a self-centred, arrogant, inconsiderate, overbearing jerk. If anyone is fooling our friends Luke, it’s you.” The words were quick and cold, and Luke found himself marching forward until the pair stood about a foot apart, Grace forced to to look up at him, keeping big her chin high.The words were quick and cold, and Luke moved a few steps closer, and Luke moved a few steps closer, the pair a few feet apart, glaring one another down.

“They aren’t our friends, Grace. My friends are just too nice to leave you hanging.” Luke voice had lowered in volume, but the venom was still there as he took a step closer, then another. “You act all mysterious, but you’re an open book, Grace. You’re a lonely girl with a taste of relevance. That’s it.”

“Like you aren’t the same?” Grace asked, stepping forward so the pair were no more than a foot apart. “Quit pretending you aren’t still the lonely kid who ran away from home in 1995, give up the high and mighty act.” She paused, looking him over with a smirk. For a moment, she forgot he was just air.

“I know who I am.”

“Do you?” Grace asked. “That’s not what I see.”

“You don’t know anything about me.” Luke countered.

“And vice versa, ghost boy.”

“I know you’re manipulative, and cold. I know you’re insufferable to be around.” Luke stated firmly, his voice low and laced with malice.

“Anything else to share?” Grace asked. “Or are you done?”

“This is exactly what I mean.”

“You don’t know me!” Grace answered back. “You don’t know why I’m here or where I came from, or what I came from. You don’t get to tell me who I am or what I do or how I act when you have made zero attempts to check your information. I know you because I ask about you! I can call you an arrogant, self-serving halfwit because I actually have tried to figure out why you hate me so much!” She paused for a second, Luke watching in surprise. He didn’t quite feel bad for Grace, but something was building in him, something foreign he had buried away. “If you knew anything about me, you would know what I’m about to do next.”

“What? Leave?” He guessed, his tone still harsh and hostile, but his answer was incorrect. It was quick, something Luke couldn’t process fast enough; but within a second of his reply being given, Grace had somehow managed to touch him, holding her hands to his neck and pulling him down to her level before pressing her lips against his.

—

Y/N and Charlie both had plenty of experience kissing people, but neither of them had felt like that before.

The moment Y/N’s lips were pressed to Charlie’s, it felt like a thousand butterflies had exploded to life in her stomach, the feeling of his lips on hers making her lightheaded. Charlie’s hands immediately came to Y/N’s waist, pulling her so their bodies were flush and her fingers found their way into the curls at the back of his head.

There was a moment there, as the pair held one another, as they kissed one another, that the rest of the world melted away. One of Charlie’s hands moving from Y/N’s waist to her cheek set the skin on fire, had her heart pounding like it was trying to break out of her chest, had her knees going weak that the only way to stay upright was to pull back, to rejoin reality.

It was only as she looked up at Charlie, still dress like Luke, her peripherals reminding her where she actually was, that a shaky breath left Y/N’s body, and she took a step back. Out of Charlie’s embrace, towards the garage doors she had entered the scene through.

“Make sure Julie gets the flowers… I…” She spoke as Grace, shaking her head in disbelief before exiting out of the garage, leaving Luke, or Charlie, dumbfounded. She couldn’t tell anymore if it was real or acting, the lines had blurred a fair amount.

“And that’s a wrap!” Kenny yelled from behind the cameras, the deafening sound of the cast and crew cheering forcing Y/N to slow her pace, to quickly get accustomed to the noise before joining in. A rather large part of her head was telling her to run and hide, to disappear and never return, to book it for the airport and save herself the embarrassment of her flushed cheeks, of seeing Charlie after what she just felt with his lips on hers.

Her eyes eventually travelled up to see Charlie coming off the set with Kenny in one side of him and Jeremy on the other, Madi and Owen walking over to meet them, the latter waving her over quickly with a grin.

“That was amazing to watch!” Kenny was raving when Y/N arrived over, hands clasped behind her back as the director turned his attention to her. “What did I ask for? Y/N, you nailed it! You both did! The whole place was just electric.” He complimented, Charlie letting out a breezy chuckle as he raised a hand to rub the back of his neck.

“What can I say? You hired some great actors, Kenny.” Charlie felt off saying the words, glancing over at Y/N as he said them, the pair sharing a weak smile. What Charlie had felt while the cameras rolled was definitely not something he faked for the screen. His stomach was still in knots, trying to untangle itself after the way Y/N had kissed him left him speechless.

What exactly was he supposed to do? That information had the ability to ruin the friendship he and Y/N had, he couldn’t risk losing her so permanently. He knew Y/N, if they talked about how he felt kissing her and didn’t feel the same way, Y/N would distance herself from any and all contact, and with them all heading home by the week’s end, it was the last thing Charlie wanted to happen.

“That I did.” Kenny agreed, glancing at his watch. “Right, I’ll let you all go and get out of costume. Wrap Party begins in an hour.” He said with a nod, patting Y/N lightly on the shoulder as he left.

There was a moment of silence between the five of them, an uncommon occurrence, no-one quite sure who should speak first. Instead of speaking, Y/N gave Madi’s arm a squeeze before heading off to the costume department to get out of Grace’s head. Maybe the thoughts of Charlie would clear up once she was back in her own clothes, her own headspace.

The four friends watched her walk off, waiting until she had rounded a corner before Charlie received three pairs of hands punching his arms playfully and shaking him, all their of his on-screen band mates barely able to contain their excitement.

“What, what?” Charlie asked, taking a step back to avoid further battery.

“What?!” Madi exclaimed. “That kiss! Charlie, we all know that wasn’t acting.”

“I’m pretty sure everyone in Vancouver could tell that wasn’t acting.” Jeremy added with a grin, nudging his friend who was slowly getting some colour in his cheeks.

“You guys are all insane.” He said quickly, starting his way over towards makeup, but his friends were hot on his tail, none of them letting this budge. Not again: Charlie and Y/N had gotten away with their flirty behaviour plenty of times before, but this was different.

“You should at least talk to her about it.” Owen said with a grin, hands stuffed in his pockets as they entered the trailer and Charlie sat down, helping himself to makeup wipes and removing the thin layer of foundation on his face. “Charlie, come on… I know that your eyes were closed, but we watched you two kiss. If you’re feeling something, Y/N is feeling it too. There’s no way you both faked that.”

“I’m not ruining my friendship with Y/N over a stage kiss.” Charlie said quickly, pulling off his shirt and switching for his own clothes, looking up as the door opened and Sacha came in with Savannah and Tori, the seven all sharing glances.

“Convinced him to go for it yet?” Tori asked after a moment, and Charlie rolled his eyes, jumping out the chair and walking past his friends. “Oh, come on Charlie! It’s clear you both like each other!”

“Tori’s right!” Madi agreed, first in following Luke out onto the trailer lot. “Why are you so hesitant?” She asked, and Charlie came to a quick stop, spinning on his heel to look at his friends.

“I’m going to go see Y/N. Not because of whatever fantasies you all have in your heads, but because I want to make sure my friend is alright.” Charlie explained, though his words didn’t seem to convince any of them. That was fair, he didn’t convince him. “I’ll see you all at the wrap party, ok?” He clarified, but before he got an answer he made his way into the maze of trailers, taking the precise turns needed to get to Y/N’s trailer.

As he turned onto her row, Charlie found himself slowing to a stop about two trailers away, and taking a nervous gulp. Why, why had it taken so long for him to figure out his feelings? Why was it only once they had kissed that he felt all this emotion surging to the surface? For a moment he wondered if it was just his body reacting to kissing a pretty girl, but he knew that wasn’t the truth. Not in the slightest.

The truth was Charlie wanted nothing more than to feel that ecstasy that came with Y/N’s lips on his all the time, and he quickly formed a do or die plan in his head as his feet started back up, bringing him to the steps up to Grace’s trailer. Her name was pasted with gold sticker on the white door, the tension quickly building in Charlie’s chest.

Do or die.

The polite triple tap on the door hurried Y/N’s getting ready, the girl quickly zipping up her dress before slipping on her shoes for the night and answering the trailer door, the butterflies exploding in her stomach as she found Charlie stood in front of her door.

“Got a second? I was hoping we could talk…” Charlie said quickly, hands shoved in his pockets, a nervous smile on his face that had Y/N thinking the worst. This was about the kiss, it was about how awkward he felt about it, no doubt. She knew her anxiety before it was right, she knew that this would ruin things.

“Of course, come on in.” She said with a little smile moving back onto the trailer and allowing Charlie to make his way inside. As Y/N turned to pick up her phone off the table and place it into her handbag for the party that night, Charlie closed the door behind him with a nervous breath. He watched her for a few moments, smiling at her absentminded humming of the song they had sang together while she packed her things away for the party tonight. He took a step closer, running a hand through his hair and straightening his top up, psyching himself up for what he was about to do. She had changed for the party, and Charlie couldn’t help but admire how beautiful she looked in the baby blue sundress. “So,” Y/N asked as she started to turn around. “What is it you want to tal-”

Y/N was cut off when Charlie gripped her by the waist and crashed his lips against hers, not that she minded in the slightest. She was quick to kiss back, her hands coming to his neck as his hands pulled her closer until their bodies were flush. Whatever worry Y/N had been having about what their characters’ kiss would do to her and Charlie’s relationship was evaporated by the heat, the passion, the electricity of his lips on hers.

Charlie was hit with relief when Y/N kissed him back, when she pulled him closer, just thankful that she might have felt exactly what he did on set. He was about to pull away, apologise for what he was doing, for intruding and not letting her ask her question, but as he pulled back to take a breath, Y/N caught his bottom lip between her teeth for a moment, and Charlie was gone.

He pulled her close again, this time his tongue entering her mouth and starting a battle for dominance against Y/N. His hands travelled towards her ass, only gaining control of the kiss when he surprised Y/N by picking her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist as her dress rode up her thighs, hands moving from his neck to grip the front of his shirt, breaking off the kiss for a moment.

They looked at one another, breathing heavy and pressed to one another, both just trying to comprehend what they had done. Y/N was the first to catch her breath, looking up at Charlie with a blush across her cheeks and blown pupils.

“No-one’s ever kissed me like that…” She whispered out, smiling as a smirk played on Charlie’s lips.

“Same.” He responded, walking over and setting her down on the trailer’s kitchenette counter, a hand coming to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “We’re… We’re idiots, right? For not realising it before?” He asked, and Y/N laughed.

“The amount of time we’ve wasted…” She muttered before pulling him for another kiss.

It quickly became heated again, neither of them quite able to control themselves. It was tongues and teeth and moans, and it wasn’t long before Charlie was leaving a hickey on Y/N’s neck and she was pulling off his shirt, quickly reminded of her friend’s body… God, he was hot.

“How long until the wrap party?” Y/N asked through a moan as Charlie pulled away from her collarbones, marks scattered over the skin Y/N would struggle to hide. He pulled his phone from his pocket, checking the time before setting it on the counter beside her.

“About 10 minutes…” Charlie answered, raising an eyebrow when Y/N bit her lip. “What did you have in mind?” He asked, stepping closer, his hands running up the sides of her thighs as he did, pushing her dress up further until he could catch a glimpse of the pastel pink panties she had chosen to wear that day, causing him to groan a little. He could feel his blood rushing down, his jeans becoming tighter around the groin.

“Well, I mean… We’re two consenting adults…” She trailed off for a second, her hands starting on his belt buckle in an uncharacteristically bold move. Charlie’s head fell back as her hand brushed against his bulge, breathing getting heavier once more. “And I’m on the pill…” She added, pushing Charlie’s jeans down slightly, then his boxers, her hand circling his shaft and beginning to stroke it slowly. She was teasing him, waiting for a response, an innocent look on her face that drove Charlie wild. He quickly pulled her panties off, tossing them to the floor and bringing a hand back to her core.

“So wet… And all just for me.” Charlie smirked as Y/N’s expression changed from feigning innocent to one of pleasure: a whimpering moan passing her lips as her eyes fluttered shut, a reaction to Charlie’s thumb circling her clit. “You know, all you had to do was ask.” He whispered in her ear, more of a growl than anything, quickly lining his cock to her entrance and pushing himself inside.

They shared in a moan, Y/N adjusting to the size of his length inside her for a moment, her walls clenched tight around him. They stayed like that for a moment, both adjusting to the feelings, before Charlie’s thumb started up its lazy circles around Y/N’s clit once more. She gave a nod, and Charlie pulled back, this time sinking himself all the way inside her.

They started slow; Charlie enjoying the view of Y/N whimpering in pleasure as she held onto him, begging for him to go faster. He didn’t comply right away, teasing her further with his length, but when she managed to utter out a ‘please’, the bucking of his hips quickened, Y/N’s whole body soon dissolving in the pleasure.

Neither of them had any experience with heaven, but if it was even half as good as the sex they shared, the afterlife would be amazing. Their bodies just worked together, like they were made for one another, each thrust and moan sending pleasure shooting through their bodies. Charlie set the pace, making sure to watch Y/N’s reactions when he changed angle, quickly finding the thrusts that gave her the most pleasure through lidded eyes, and Y/N would tease him further, her walls hugging his cock just enough to have him slipping out curses mixed with her name. It didn’t take very long for Y/N’s legs to begin trembling, Charlie’s hands spreading her thighs further apart as the knots began forming in her stomach, one of his hands moving to hold the small of her back while the other returned to his spot over her sensitive bud.

“Charlie… Charlie I’m close.” Y/N managed to say through breathy moans as the knots in her abdomen got progressively tighter, Charlie moving slightly to find a better angle, beginning to pound mercilessly into her cunt, a smirk on his lips. Her mouth formed into an ‘o’, her eyes rolling back behind hooded lids dusted with eyeshadow for the party that night, the one they were meant to be arriving at 5 minutes earlier.

“Come for me, sweetheart.” He muttered, pressing his lips down on her collarbone as Y/N came undone at his words, the spasms of pleasure bringing forward Charlie’s own release, the smirk quickly fading as he felt his own climax approaching. “Fuck… Y/n, fuck…” Charlie muttered, his thrusts quickly becoming sloppy as he edged on Y/N’s climax, letting out a moan as he shot his load, his head rolling back and his muscles flexing as he filled Y/N, prompting an aftershock to run through the girl, eliciting whimpers from her shuddering frame.

Charlie soon stilled, both of them panting as they came down from their highs, Charlie’s hands on Y/N’s back the only thing keeping her vertical. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead gently before pulling out, letting out a hiss from the over-sensitivity as Y/N giggled through a whine.

“Jesus…” She muttered, taking a moment before slipping off the counter, lifting her panties from the floor as Charlie tucked himself back into his jeans and grabbed his t-shirt, the clothing item having landed on the back of the nearby couch. “I’m… I’m gonna clean up.” She informed him, unable to stop smiling as she disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Charlie to smile to himself and fall back on the couch with a beaming grin.

How had any of that actually happened?

He sat back up when Y/N came out of the bathroom, her hair fixed and her dress straightened again, though the blush on her cheeks and nose still remained. Charlie smiled and pulled himself off the couch, walking over to her and quickly pressing his lips to hers. She kissed back, the action shared between them soft and sweet this time around, though it still caused butterflies to erupt in both of their stomachs.

“I was thinking… I know you’ll need to go back home and visit family, obviously… But maybe you could spend a few weeks at my place in LA?” Charlie suggested his thumb rubbing against Y/N’s cheek as they held eye contact. “Meet my parents, maybe?” He added with a nervous chuckle. They had planned for her to meet his mom and dad at some point, and him hers, more for the fact they wanted their parents to know their best friend, but that had obviously changed… Best friends don’t fuck half naked in a trailer on their filming lot.

“I would love that… But you have to come home with me afterwards.” Y/N said with a smile, letting out a sweet laugh as Charlie nodded vigorously, the pair locking lips once more.

That night, when Charlie and Y/N walked into the wrap party with their hands interlocked, there was a relief that sat in the air for the cast and crew. Finally, after a year of betting pools and theories and who only knew what else, it seemed the two had finally stopped being idiots and acted on their feelings. It was confirmed when during a slow song, Charlie pulled Y/N onto the dance floor, the pair sharing a kiss as the music played.

On the side lines, it was Meg, Charlie’s sister, of all people who stood collecting cash from crew members. She had got herself in on the betting pool last time she visited, and had guessed the exact date the pair would finally take their next step.

The question of Charlie and Y/N’s budding relationship should have been a ‘who would’ve thought?’, but, in reality, everyone knew. From Madi to Kenny to literally everyone on the entire planet…

Except for Charlie and Y/N.

Tags: @lord-of-the-fried @lolychu @deadashcapper5 @aliceinemeraldcity @eries45 @kristencoontz @walkingonshunshine @wxshing-aep @oswin05 @voguesir @delicatelukepatterson @reggieandthereggies @siennanoelle01 @dxsxstxrhxxd @reggiesleatherjacket @a-whole-a-lot-of-fandoms @thetattooink @futuremrsb-r-main @charliessunset @mlt2000 @overlyhypedup @fangirlanonimax @writerinlearning @dxlanhxlland @manaoioahilinai @cocobuttababy @rosiemay02 @crookedoperatoroperagarden @theatricalfangirl @middaydramatic @mloudfish @mps427 @sweetdayme4427 @anagc-09 @feliamtion @ohyoureaqueenbutuncrowned @caitsymichelle13 @amortiff @lovesanimals @crappy-unicorn @avs-hart @ghostlyb1tch @lukeys-giggle @aunicornmademedoit @carleywhittaker @crybabyddl @writella @isabellaskyliner @moonyxnights @dmcfarland1 @kiss-themoongoodbye @kcd15 @ellepscal @bookdealer5 @leahstypewriter

(i’m doing really badly at tagging everyone who asks, so i’ll be sorting out my taglist around halloween to make sure i can keep all of you up to date on my writing!)

#luke patterson #charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie smut #charlie gillespie x reader #luke patterson x reader #charlie gillespie x y/n #luke patterson x y/n #jatp luke #jatp #julie and the phantoms #smut #fluff #fluffy smut #charlie gillespie imagine

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myherowritings · 4 years

Text

Three in the Morning

— You’ve missed your best friend after not seeing him for over a week. To fix that problem, you show up at his window at three in the morning to fill the Iwaizumi-shaped void in your heart.

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x reader word count: 2.9k genre: college/university au, fluff warnings: intoxication (reader is tipsy hghfjsd), jealous reader at one point, cuddling in bed, tooth-rotting fluff

a/n: written for bnha sanctuary one prompt haikyuu collab! :D a bunch of writers wrote their take on the same prompt “it’s 3am why are you outside my window” and this is the fic i came up with based on it! check out the other amazing fics here u won’t regret it ;) xx sof

「 hq masterlist 」

Walking around in the middle of the night just the slightest bit tipsy wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve done in your whole college career, but you could safely say it wasn’t the dumbest— Not that it was something you should be proud of.

You and your roommates had just gotten home from a party and, for some odd reason, you had the sudden urge to see one of your best friends, Iwaizumi Hajime, right at that very moment. He had been studying for midterms all week and you weren’t able to hang out with each other like you normally did, causing a Iwaizumi-shaped void that you wanted to fill. (In a strictly platonic way, of course.)

And when you were half-sleep deprived, half-inebriated, it wasn’t uncommon for you to be rather...impulsive. From ordering too much takeout from any “open 24-hour” restaurant within a five mile radius, to uploading a video of you trying to come up with the perfect pasta recipe, you’ve done a handful of bizarre things during the ungodly hours of the night. But even you weren’t sure what was going on through your mind that convinced you sneaking out of your apartment and heading to Iwaizumi’s nearby was the best course of action while still slightly intoxicated.

The clock on your phone read that it was only a quarter ‘til three and you quickly shrugged on a jacket and sent Iwaizumi a sloppy “i’m omw iwaaaachann” text before stepping foot outside your door, making sure to shut it silently as to not awaken your roommates who had just fallen asleep.

As you made your way through your apartment complex, the thought briefly crossed your mind that Iwaizumi might be sleeping at the moment, especially since he had just finished his midterm exams, but you shrugged it off. You would cross that hurdle when you got there.

And so, when you finally—through some miracle from above—arrived at Iwaizumi’s in one piece, you weren’t sure what else to do other then stare at his half cracked open window. Since he lived on the second floor, it wasn't uncommon for him to leave a window open for air to come through during the hot seasons.

“Iwaizumi!” you yelled in a quiet whisper, hoping the wind would carry your words into his apartment for you.

When you received no reply, you pulled our your phone and began to message him. Although Iwaizumi liked to pretend he was an unsentimental guy who didn’t have time to deal with others’ bullshit, it was obvious that was false. He cared a lot about everyone, especially his friends. Maybe even too much. And one of the ways he showed he secretly cared was always having his phone on full ringer in case anyone needed help in the middle of the night— Something that was surprisingly quite common when you were friends with the chaos that was Oikawa.

Would it be mean to use that knowledge to your own advantage and spam Iwaizumi until he replied?

Maybe.

But in your defense, you were practically having an emergency only he could help with. You desperately needed your Iwaizumi fix after not having seen him in over a week and there was no one better to help you that problem than Iwaizumi himself.

Besides, texting him until he wakes up would be better than Romeo-and-Julieting this and climbing in through his window. Trying to scale a building while tipsy was too idiotic, even for you.

Y/N: are u awakeee?

Y/N: wakey wakey

Y/N: i miss u :(

Y/N: i’m outside ur window wink wonk

Y/N: iwaaa >.>

There was a cacophonous sound of loud text chimes ringing one after the other followed by a deep grunt and stretching sound. You pictured Iwaizumi blearily getting out of bed and checking his phone that he kept across the room (to minimize at-night screen time, he claimed) with a heavy-lidded look on his face.

After a few seconds of unidentifiable shuffles, you heard a strangled cry of, “What the—?!” before you saw the shadow of his head through the window screen.

“Y/N?” he asked incredulously, voice still rough and scratchy from having just been awakened.

You waved, beaming wildly. “Iwaizumi!”

There was a deep sigh as he cracked the glass open even wider. “It’s three in the morning— Why are you outside my window?” He peered down at you almost stumbling on the spot. “And are you drunk?”

“Barely,” you assured, though you still felt a slight buzz in your fingertips. “I missed you so I came here.”

“I— What? I mean— Huh?” he demanded, visible confusion in his tone. He rubbed his forehead before correcting himself. “I mean I miss you too. But it’s three in the morning! You couldn’t wait to miss me in a few hours instead?”

You didn’t know whether to pout because he didn’t grow some Rapunzel hair and let you climb it up to the window and fall into his open arms like you’d imagined, or cheer because he said he missed you too. Blissfully, you chose the latter. “You miss me?”

“Is that really all you heard?” said Iwaizumi with a snort before shaking his head in defeat. “Come up here. I’ll unlock the door for you.”

Your face lit up instantly as you nodded, bounding up the stairs of his apartment building and meeting with him face-to-face at his doorstep.

He had his arms folded over his chest as he waited for you at the entrance and, though he had tired circles under his eyes and still seemed half-asleep, was looking as attractive as ever. Not even the white polka dots on his pajama shorts could talk away from that fact. If anything, it made him all the more adorable.

“Iwa-chan!” you greeted excitedly, but still careful as to make sure you weren’t loud enough to wake up his roommate. You opened your arms out and he begrudgingly accepted your embrace. (Well, he tried to seem begrudging at least. But you saw his hidden smile as you nestled your chin on his shoulder.) “I missed you.”

“You said that already, dumbass,” he said with a tsk. He patted the top of your head before pulling away from your hug promptly. “You’re cold. Have you been standing outside for long?”

Pursing your lips, you looked up at him in confusion. “I don’t feel cold.”

“Because you’re too drunk to register it, probably.” With his warm hand on the small of your back, Iwaizumi ushered you inside and shut the door behind you. “Let’s go to my room so we don’t wake up my roommate, yeah?”

“‘Kay.”

Having visited his place so many times before, you knew it like it was your own apartment— Disregard the fact that your apartments had almost the same exact layout since you lived in the same complex. After sliding off your shoes at the entrance, you led the way to his room with Iwaizumi following closely behind you.

“Did you go to a party tonight?” he asked, eyes trailing down your body that was clad in an oversized t-shirt and fuzzy socks. Iwaizumi took a seat on his bed and patted the spot next to him for you to join.

Laughing at his puzzled expression, you nodded. “Yeah, but I went to my place to change and get ready for bed,” you explained. “Tried sleeping but I missed you too much and wanted to see your face.”

You climbed onto the mattress with him and wiggled around until you found a comfy spot. The comfy spot happened to be side-by-side with Iwazumi, your back against the wall and cold thigh pressed against his warm one. You rested your head on his shoulder and he lazily drew circles onto your knee with the pad of his thumb.

Intimacy like this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the two of you— That’s just how things were. He was warm and comfy and good at cuddling, and you liked that.

It could maybe be considered just normal friendship things you two did with everyone if it weren’t for the fact that Iwaizumi wasn’t typically comfortable with physical touch from anyone other than you. And maybe if you also ignored that you weren’t too keen on the thought of him one day being this close to anyone else. If truth be told, you didn’t like the thought of that at all.

With a small huff, you hooked your left arm with Iwaizumi’s right, hugging his bicep to you in an almost clingy manner.

“You good?” he asked, lightly chuckling as he looked down at you gripping onto his side. “Or something troubling you?”

You hummed unsure how to answer. There wasn’t enough alcohol in your system for you to completely spill your guts with know remorse, though being tipsy did greatly increase your likelihood of being loose-lipped. “I’m just thinking about someone else being with you like this.”

Iwaizumi stiffened, shoulders tensing ever so slightly before he quickly relaxed his muscles again. He prompted gruffly, throat so tight it came out as a murmur, “And?”

“I don’t like it.”

He let out a sharp chuckle. “I see.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw a smile on his face and you continued on. “You’ve been studying a lot with Sasaki-san lately.”

“Hmm. Have I?”

You nodded. “You have your biomechanics class with her, right?”

“Yeah. I guess we studied for the exam together for a few nights.”

There was a funny feeling in your stomach at the thought of him spending his nights studying with someone that then spiraled to you picturing them being compatible and falling in love and spending the rest of their lives together. You winced, trying to shake it off. You were one of his best friends; it’s not like you had the right to feel that way.

“She’s really pretty,” you said, hoping it would prompt him to talk more about her. Even if you had no right, you still wanted to know—

By now, the laughter Iwaizumi was struggling to hold in bubbled out of his mouth, cutting you off mid-thought. His shoulders bounced up and down and you reluctantly sat up from your position resting on top of him to give him a look of confusion.

“Why are you laughing at me?” you pouted. Your eyebrows were furrowed and the corners of your lips were quirked down, cheeks slightly puffed.

He nudged your side gently with his elbow. You nudged him back, but moved away before he could retaliate and start a nudge war. “Because you sound jealous and it’s funny.”

“I didn’t say I was jealous.”

“I didn’t say you said that.”

“I’m not jealous,” you corrected.

“Now that’s debatable.”

Your cheeks flooded with heat, grabbing a pillow off the head of Iwaizumi’s bed to hide the embarrassed look on your face, seconds away from throwing it at him if he started to laugh any louder. You huffed. You were not jealous. There was no way. You just didn’t like imagining one of your best friends with another person doing coupley things that you only wanted him to do with you. But that definitely wasn’t jealousy.

(Okay, fine. You were jealous. But you couldn’t admit that to Iwaizumi.)

“That’s just your lack of sleep talking,” you sulked, lying down on his bed with a pillow still over your face. “Go to sleep now.”

“I was asleep. Until someone showed up at my window unannounced and woke me up.”

“They sound annoying.”

He barked out a laughter and you felt the weight on the bed shift. The compressed springs near your feet where Iwaizumi sat released its tension before you felt a dip beside you. You held your breath, the warmth from Iwaizumi’s body radiating onto yours.

While sleeping in the same bed together wasn’t as common as just cuddling, it wasn’t something that was exactly rare. There were times when you came over to watch movies or a television series with him until you both passed out on his bed. And other times when he was feeling stressed or you were feeling sad and neither of you wanted to sleep alone. You knew if you called, he would invite you in. And it was the same if he came to you.

But that didn’t make your heart beat any less rapidly as you waited in anticipation for Iwaizumi to get under the sheets with you. No matter how many times you fell asleep together, that didn’t stop the rush of nerves and tense air of awkwardness from flooding the room. However, it took just one touch to break the ice and before you knew it, you were snuggling up next to him in complete contentment.

“They’re not annoying,” he said firmly, large hand resting on the curve of your hip. “Actually, I’m glad they showed up even though it was three in the morning and I was running on two hours of sleep from the previous day.” You winced at his words, the alcohol gone from your system by now and you realized the insensitivity of your actions. Still, your stomach fluttered when he said he was glad to see you. “Because I missed them too.”

You blinked slowly. “You’re talking about me right?”

Through the moonlight from the window, you saw him roll his eyes with a grin. “Is there anyone else you think I’d let into my bed at this hour?”

“Oikawa.”

He considered it. “Well, maybe. But it wouldn’t so much be me letting him than him weaseling his way in.”

You nodded solemnly, as if it made perfect sense. Because it did. “Fair enough. He’s the only other person I’d let into my bed like this too,” you admitted, earning a laugh out of the both of you. “Well, besides Oikawa then, there’s no one else you’d sleep with like this?”

“There hasn’t been since we started college. I doubt there would be anyone to change that. Nor would I want anyone to.”

For the second time tonight, you felt heat rise to your cheeks and had the sudden urge to turn the other way and stare at the wall instead of Iwaizumi. But he held you tight by the waist so you couldn’t wiggle your way out of his grasp— Which did not, at all, help with the flaming face situation.

He only wanted you? There was a euphoric feeling in your chest when you realized he felt that way, and you felt the same.

“Someone’s bold tonight,” you managed to choke out, softly pressing your shaky fingers to the center of Iwaizumi’s chest. You felt the outlines of his toned pectorals beneath your palm and you had to remind yourself to keep on breathing.

“It’s from the lack of sleep. Sorry.” He didn’t sound apologetic. In fact, he seemed the opposite of apologetic when he brought you almost imperceptibly closer to him. If you weren’t so aware of the spatial distance (or lack thereof) between the two of you, there was no way you would have noticed. But you did. And you didn’t mind it. “I don’t have my usual filter.”

“Maybe I like you like this,” you said without missing a beat. Your initial reaction was to be embarrassed about the words that just left your mouth, but when you saw his growing smile, you felt a rush of assurance coursing through you. “I always like you, I suppose.”

“Like me?” he prompted, almost teasingly. “In what way?”

You gulped. Was this Iwaizumi being flirty?

Sure, it wasn’t uncommon for him to compliment you and occasionally play around— But if you thought your heart would ever be ready for him to actually flirt, you certainly thought wrong. You weren’t ready at all.

“L-Lots of ways,” you stammered out. “But in particular, the ‘I think you’re cute and I maybe want to date you’ way.”

“Funny.” His voice was a low whisper that rasped in your ear. “I think I like you in that way too.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

“Huh. Well, if we both like each other in that way…maybe we should…” you trailed off, feelings of timidness suddenly overcoming you. “You know…”

“Date?” he supplied with a knowing grin. You nodded bashfully. “Tomorrow.” There was an air of promise and sincerity in his tone. “Let’s get some sleep and then when we wake up we can go on our first date.”

Tranquility spread through your veins as you let out a happy sigh, your muscles growing lax at your calmed state. Although your heart was beating out of your chest at the prospect of actually dating Iwaizumi, his comforting embrace was enough to lull you into sleep. Your senses were flooded with him—his touch, his smell, the quiet sound of his steady breathing—and you realized there was no other place you’d rather be.

“Are you sure you won’t be too tired from exams?” you said before sleep overtook the both of you. “And from me waking you up in the middle of the night? Which…sorry for that again, by the way.”

“Don’t apologize. It was worth it,” he mumbled, lips brushing against your forehead as your eyelids fluttered shut. “I’ll always be here when you need me. Even if it’s at three in the morning.”

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makeste · 3 years

Text

some follow-up thoughts on BnHA 306

mostly Deku angst, but also a little Baku angst (and some TodoBaku angst) mixed in for good measure. because there’s plenty of angst to go around.

1. “if I’d only been stronger...”

I’ll talk more about Deku later in this post as well, because there’s definitely plenty to talk about; this is the most character development he’s gotten in almost 200 chapters. but for starters, I want to discuss the possible parallels between Deku’s current character arc, and what is arguably the most iconic moment of angst/character development in the series.

remember how this kid, who up until this point had rarely seemed to give two fucks about the world around him, suddenly revealed that he blamed himself for being the downfall of All Might? remember how it came almost out of nowhere? how he’d been hiding it, and trying to suppress it? “but even if I try to forget... sometimes it all just comes rushing back.”

yeah. so anyway, I got to thinking -- if being the cause of one hero’s downfall could affect someone this badly, what about being responsible for the downfall of all heroes?

what if a boy who wanted nothing more than to keep people safe suddenly found himself at the epicenter of a disaster that killed hundreds, possibly even thousands of people?

now obviously, this is not the sole thing that’s troubling Deku right now; this kid has a whole array of traumas as of the War arc. like, you know it’s bad when Society As We Know It Coming To An End Partially Because Of You is the least of your problems. but still, I think this is worth bringing up, because the hero kids blaming themselves for things that aren’t their fault is hardly anything new. and yet, what with everything else that’s been going on -- all of the Todoroki drama, and Vestige revelations, and hospital antics, and political strife -- I feel like it’s easy to forget or overlook this little detail.

the fact is that AFO put this entire plan into motion solely in the hopes of finally obtaining OFA. every single thing that happened at Jakku -- Tomura powering up; Machia waking up and going on his rampage (after being ordered to do so by Tomura); and even Dabi/Touya choosing this moment to finally strike (because he knew this was when the reveal would do the maximum damage -- when people’s faith in heroes was already wavering) -- every last bit of it can ultimately be traced back to AFO’s desire to steal OFA. which, obviously, makes it AFO’s fault, not Deku’s. but then, Kamino wasn’t actually Katsuki’s fault either. it wasn’t his fault the villains went after him (but he blamed himself anyway), and it wasn’t his fault that people got hurt in the ensuing battle to save him (but he blamed himself anyway).

just. I think we’re underestimating just how strong of an impact all of this likely had on Deku. we haven’t really had the chance to see him process it yet. he’s been too busy, and there have been too many other things going on. but I’m telling you guys, that empty look in his eyes in the final page of the chapter? I can all but guarantee you that at least some of that emotional weight is coming from this.

sure would be nice if he had a friend who knew exactly what that was like, and could help him process the guilt and all of the other associated emotions, just like Deku once helped him. unfortunately I’m not so sure things will be that easy this time around. anyways though let’s move on to a couple of other thoughts and speculations.

2. “...and I bullied him.”

one of my least-favorite BnHA fanfic tropes is the one where the rest of class 1-A somehow finds out about Katsuki and Deku’s history -- i.e. that Katsuki bullied Deku throughout most of their childhood. mind you, it’s not the concept itself that I dislike; it’s mostly how it’s used. a lot of times it’s just an excuse to have all of the other kids turn on Katsuki and ostracize him; either because the author thinks that’s what he deserves, or else so that Deku can eventually come to his rescue and defend him and shame the rest of the class for not seeing how much he’s changed. either way, it’s usually pretty awkward to read, and more often than not the characters are pretty OOC (especially Ochako and Todoroki).

however! there’s a big difference between fanfic and canon, and just because I’m not a fan of this trope in the former doesn’t mean it couldn’t be executed well in the latter. and lately I’ve been thinking about this a lot. mainly for three reasons:

the recent (can we still call it recent?? well whatever) scene where Katsuki confessed to All Might that he used to bully Deku is now one of my favorite scenes in the entire series, and proof that this can be executed well.

both Todoroki and Deku have finally had their respective big secrets revealed to the rest of the class. so like, idk. feels like it just might be secret-revealing season now, you know?

and lastly, as a result of Deku’s secret about OFA finally being revealed, the rest of 1-A now either knows, or can extrapolate, that he used to be quirkless.

and from there, I feel like it’s not all that hard to put two and two together with how terrible Kacchan and Deku’s relationship was when they first started at UA. that’s not a terribly difficult puzzle to solve. so I feel like it might come out anyway, and if so, I’d prefer Bakugou telling them himself, and taking responsibility as part of his atonement process. because we know that he regrets it. we know their relationship has changed. we know that he has changed. and so I think I might like to see this.

alternately, if confessing to the entire class is too much, at the very least I could see him confessing to Shouto, because I’ve always felt like this was one of the big things that made Katsuki so resistant to letting Todoroki call him a friend. because I feel like there’s a part of Katsuki that saw the parallels between Endeavor’s abuse of Shouto and his own bullying of Deku, and thought, he wouldn’t be so quick to call me his friend if he actually knew the truth. and so there’s actually been this roadblock wedged between them this whole time that Shouto doesn’t even know about. because Shouto hates Endeavor. and so it’s not such a leap to assume he’d hate Katsuki too if he knew just how terrible he’d been to Deku when they were younger.

not that I think he actually would! actually I don’t think either of those things is actually true (because Shouto clearly doesn’t hate his father either, in spite of everything that’s happened). but the point isn’t what I think -- the point is what Katsuki thinks. and I really do think there’s a good chance he’s worried about Shouto hating him, and it’s one of the things that’s made him so reluctant to accept his friendship. anyway, so I’m really just rambling now, but you get my point. I don’t know if this is actually going to happen, but it’s a scene I would like to see if Horikoshi decides to indulge me.

3. “...so when you wake up, please give him my best.”

and now, as promised, back to Deku.

ngl guys, when I first saw this image, my immediate thought was that Gran must have died. because I mean, hello, leaving U.A.?? donning himself in his teacher’s old cape?? empty, exhausted look in his eyes?? what else were we supposed to think lol.

but maybe that was an overreaction. because when I think about it more, Gran’s death isn’t strictly necessary in order to push Deku over the edge. first of all, there’s already the whole “hero society is in ruins now because of you” thing I mentioned earlier. but also, there are just so many other things. like, let’s just list them here because omg. what a rough couple of days this kid had.

he was forced to battle TomurAFO and was terribly injured in the process (most of which was his own fault, but he wouldn’t have gone that far with OFA unless he felt like he had no choice)

and it wasn’t just him that was injured, either. in fact, even though he tried to act as bait to keep everyone else safe, he wasn’t able to stop three of the people closest to him from nearly being killed right before his eyes

and of course that last one was especially traumatic, because it was Kacchan, and because he had to watch Kacchan nearly die just to protect him. out of all the things that Deku witnessed in this arc, this might be the one that had the biggest impact on him

he was also basically helpless to do anything to protect Shouto and Endeavor when Dabi showed up. so again, we have this running theme of people he cares about being hurt and him not being able to save them

and he also got sucked into the OFA Interstellar Dream Vortex for a brief spell during the battle, during which he learned that AFO had possessed Tomura. more importantly, he learned that Tomura was Nana’s grandson, a fact which was only briefly touched on during that scene, but which I think wound up being the trigger to the whole avalanche that ended with Deku leaving UA. but more on that in a moment

anyway so just to wrap this all up, the battle eventually ended, Tomura got away despite all of their efforts, and then Deku wound up comatose in the hospital for two days. which brings us to the most recent chapters, during which

Deku learns that he will be the last wielder of OFA, whether he likes or not

Deku learns the identity of the last two mystery OFA users

and then at some point, he wakes up and presumably talks to Gran, and winds up with his cape

something happened during these last two scenes which helped to push Deku over the edge. I won’t delve into the matter of the Second or Third users for now, although most of you already know my suspicions regarding that, and I do think that would fit into the general pattern here (that is, the pattern of Deku feeling more and more strongly that he is putting the people around him in danger, and his fear of losing them becoming so overwhelming that it eventually pushes him to leave).

but that’s not what I want to talk about for now. what I want to talk about is Gran. specifically, what it is that Deku discussed with Gran. and this is where we come back to that reveal I mentioned earlier -- that Tomura is Nana’s grandchild.

basically, what I think happened is that Deku mentioned seeing Nana in the OFA Zany Psychedelic Spirit Void, which led to the topic of Tomura, and the fun fact Deku recently learned about him being related to Nana. this, in turn leads to Gran divulging his various regrets about everything that happened with him and Nana and Kotarou. his intent is to apologize to Deku for placing the burden of their failures on him. unfortunately, the part that Deku actually gets fixated on instead is this:

All for One hunted down and killed Nana’s son (and probably her husband as well), and stole her grandchild and psychologically tortured him into becoming a mass murderer, for no other reason than that Nana had once held OFA

in other words, AFO can and will hurt and kill anyone Deku is close to, anyone who has any kind of connection to him at all, without mercy, and regardless of whether it actually gives him any kind of tactical advantage or not. he’ll do it simply to hurt him. no other reason necessary.

I don’t know about you, but for me that would be a terrifying realization. and for Deku, I think it just might have been the tipping point.

so, let’s recap.

Deku learns that AFO is after him

AFO/Tomura very nearly kills several of Deku’s most important people, including Kacchan

and then he learns that this is just the tip of the iceberg, and realizes that all of their lives are still in danger and will continue to be as long as Deku is AFO’s target

and then add to all of this the misplaced guilt about society already being shambles, and the heroes already having more than enough to worry about. they’re barely holding things together as it is. and we already know how Deku feels about being a burden to them:

and so instead, he leaves. of course he does. in hindsight, I think this was inevitable.

the question is, did anyone else also put the pieces together in time to realize what Deku was planning before he actually left? specifically, did Katsuki, who understands Deku’s self-sacrificial nature better than anyone else, see the signs and put two and two together? like he did back at Jakku?

and if he did, would Deku have been willing to accept his help again?

somehow, I can’t help but think it might not be that easy this time.

anyway, so that was a lot of rambling, lol. sorry about that. I JUST HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS about all of this angsty shit. tired nomad Deku needs hugs and comfort and someone to reassure him that he doesn’t have to face this alone, and that everything is going to be all right. HE IS JUST A LITTLE BOY. this is too much, and I cannot handle any of these feels, and oh my god, somebody please help him.

#bnha 306 #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #todoroki shouto #gran torino #bnha meta #deku meta #bakugou meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #long post #bakudeku #todobaku

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sweetchup · 3 years

Text

Bi•valve

Noun

an aquatic mollusk that has a compressed body enclosed within a hinged shell, such as oysters, clams, mussels, and scallops.

AKA

The Most Common Seashell in the Ocean

————————

Vol. 2: Into the Deep // Ch. 9

Type: Poseidon x reader

Word Count: 2,000+

⚠️Warning⚠️: Mature Content

Masterlist

————————

Minutes, perhaps hours went by as the scenes continued to shift in front of you. Some scenes were consistent, such as Triton’s bedroom, the main hall or the back garden, while others, not so much.

After seeing Triton’s and Poseidon’s first meeting you haven’t made a peep. Choosing instead to listen carefully to the grand voice that controlled this plane or what was happening in the scene in front of you. You wanted to take in all that was happening.

Soon, perhaps too soon, the final scene appears. Just like where they had met, this final scene took place in Triton’s bedroom.

Triton, now 1 year old, was alone with Scylla as she attempted to teach him how to walk. Hoping to get him to walk a little bit before his father stopped by for the day.

“Come slowly to me, Master Triton.” Scylla coos out at the child. Shaking Triton’s favorite toy in the boy’s direction to get his attention. “Try to lift—“

“Scylla!”

Scylla is startled as suddenly Maria, a laundry maid and her friend, comes barreling through the door.

“Maria? What’s the matter?” Scylla asks the younger woman as she picks up Triton and makes her way over.

“Y-You need to hide! Lady Amphitrite caught wind of you spending time with Poseidon-n when you were taking care of Lord Triton and took it the wrong way. She’s on her way right now.” Maria frantically explains as she wipes the sweat off her brow. Instantaneous getting to work to hide Triton’s toys. Knowing that if Lady Amphitrite found such nice things she would get suspicious of Lord Poseidon’s feelings for Triton.

All of a sudden a long crashing noise rings out from outside, frantically Scylla runs to the window to look outside. It was Amphitrite. She didn’t have much time.

“Maria. Take Lord Triton and hide him under the clothes in your basket as you make your way to the Laundry room.” Scylla frantically explains as she hands Triton off to the younger woman.

“B-But what about you?”

“I can’t worry about myself right now. If she comes here in her current state of mind, even Triton won’t be protected from her wrath.” Scylla mumbles out, fear dripping in her veins as she pushes Maria out of the room. Making sure no one was near, she grabs the basket and, with Maria’s help, carefully covers Triton in the dirty sheets. “Please be safe, my Lord.”

“Be safe yourself, Scylla. Try not to anger Lady Amphitrite more than she already is.”

“I will try.”

And with that, Maria leaves. Running away from the scene as Scylla shuts the door to Triton’s room. Accepting her fate.

“Please, Lord Poseidon. Make it back in time. For Lord Triton’s sake—“

“Where is she?!” A booming screeching voice resounds from out in the hallway. One that even sent shivers up your spine as you watched on.

It only takes a couple of seconds for Amphitrite to find Scylla. Breaking down the door to Triton’s bedroom in the process. Her usual neat fiery red hair was a mess, tangled and astray in every which way. Her eyes were mad and furious, looking crazily at the nymph who kneeled on the ground before her.

“YOU.” Amphitrite booms out, furiously stomping her way over until she stands inches away from the Nymph. She scans the room, seeming to attempt to find something before turning to the guards, “Go find the Child.”

“Yes, My Lady.”

“M-My Lady. I beg of you, let me explain.” Scylla sputters out as she shakes in fear in front of her master. “Ah—“

Scylla quickly bites her lip to stop herself from screaming in pain as Amphitrite digs her heel into the back of Scylla’s hand.

“Explain what?” Amphitrite venomously spits out at the nymph.

“I-I was only trying to get Lord Poseidon to become closer with Lord Triton.”

“Trying to get them to become closer?” Amphitrite repeats through gritted teeth, digging her heel once more into Scylla’s hand before pacing away. “As if that asswipe would care about his own son. He doesn’t even look at his own wife. His beautiful gorgeous wi—“

Amphitrite’s rant comes to a screeching halt as Poseidon barges into the room. His eyes are cold and hard as he stares down his wife, his trusty trident clutched tightly in his fist. So tightly, you could even see his knuckles turning an unsightly white.

“Oh, if it isn’t Lord Poseidon. Here to save your whore?” Amphitrite bitterly spits out to her husband before laughing maniacally to herself as she tugs at her hair.

It was official, she had gone even more bad shit crazy than she already was.

“Enough. How many times have I told you to cut it out with that shit—“

“Poseidon!” Scylla shouts out as she makes her way to her feet and runs over to Poseidon. What in the world was she doing? Was she trying to anger Amphitrite?

“Maria. Maria has Triton.” You overhear Scylla murmur into Poseidon’s chest as she leans against the god. Poseidon seems to freeze a little and you understood why.

He either had to fight Amphitrite here, which could take a while, or go try to grab Triton before the guards find and take him.

“Poseidon, I love you. Please protect me.” Scylla shouts out as she pretends to weep. However, from where you and Poseidon were standing, you could see her mouth the words ‘Go’ and ‘leave’.

You feel your stomach drop. Scylla was putting up an act in front of Amphitrite so the attention would be on her. Giving Poseidon an excuse to leave and enough time to save Triton.

Poseidon seemed to know this as well as his grip tightened even more on his trident as he shook his head at the elder servant in front of him, “You fool.”

“We are caught. Do what you must.” Poseidon's voice booms out as he lowers his trident and walks away. Choosing not to even spare a second glance as he turns the corner.

“You…. YOU FUCKING COUG—“

As Amphitrite lungs at Scylla a blinding light over takes the room, officially ending the scene. The spirit of the mirror seemed to have done you a favor by sparing the gory and curse details that would happen only moments later.

Shaken up, you collapsed to the floor as you found yourself face to face with the mirror. You were back where you started.

“Lady (y/n)?” Startled out of your trance-like state, you turn to Scylla. The present day Scylla.

“S-Scylla I—“ You stutter out, scrambling to your feet. “I-I’m…”

“It’s fine.” Scylla states out with a sigh, seeming to already understand what you were trying to say. As she had already heard it many times before, “You don’t have to feel bad for—“

“Could I give you a hug?”

The elder woman pauses for a moment, “A hug?”

“A-Ah sorry. Is that disrespectful in any way? I just felt like you really needed a hug and…” You take a pause as you anxiously rub the back of your neck, “…I really need to give you one after seeing that.”

It’s silent for a moment as Scylla ponders your offer.

“…Fine.” Scylla sighs out as she massages her forehead. The wrinkles on her face smoothing slightly as she does so.

At Scylla's confirmation, you throw yourself into the sea monster’s arms. Being extra careful not to squash the Pomeranians that were attached to the front of her body as you do so.

Scylla lets out a small sigh before eventually wrapping her arms around you as well. What was she going to do with you?

She was old. Having been born around the same time Lord Poseidon and Zeus’ mother was born and she had seen many souls in her lifetime but…never like yours. It seemed normal when she first saw it, like any other human.

But, perhaps that’s what made it so special in the first place. For the simple fact that you were a normal human. Caring, empathy, weakness. Containing so many things higher beings are repulsed by.

Yet, you seemed to wear them with pride.

“What am I going to do with you, Lady (y/n)…” Scylla whispers lowly under her breath as she finally relaxes into your touch.

—.—.—.—.—

“Lord Poseidon. I just got the files from—“

“Put it over there.” Poseidon mutters out to his attendee, not even lifting his gaze from the paperwork he was working.

“Of course, sire.” The attendee, quick and quietly, places the papers down before exiting the room. Knowing not to disturb his lord longer than needed. As soon as a small thud of the door closing resounds, Poseidon’s pen stops and he finally lifts his head up.

He should be getting all this paperwork done in preparation for the upcoming cold season but he just couldn’t seem to focus.

What was it….

Poseidon usually wasn’t one to ponder on trivial things. After all, he was a god. If need be, all he had to do was say something and the problem would be taken care of swiftly. But, he couldn’t do that in this case.

Poseidon rubs his temple with a small grunt as he attempts to shake out the scene from last night out of his mind.

That blasted scene, again.

Shaking his head one last time, Poseidon stands up from his seat and walks over to the couch nearby. He needed to figure out what to do about you and, especially, Triton.

Foolish Brother.

If Zeus hadn’t egged Amphitrite on so much, he wouldn’t even be pondering this right now. He would simply just ignore the boy until those annoying feelings went away once more. But, he couldn’t do that with all those assasination attempts being made from Amphitrite.

Three Maids have already been caught trying to sneak weapons into the premises and Five more have been caught trying to poison your food. And that didn’t even begin to cover all the number of poisonous and deadly sea creatures that were sent into the area.

“What if our only Heir tried to eat her food, you blasted Woman,” Poseidon scoffed as he poured himself a glass of wine. He needed it after all, with the sun already setting and tons of paperwork still needing to get done, it was going to be a long night.

A loud knock suddenly comes at the door.

“Come in.”

“Hello, My Love.” Poseidon feels his eyebrow twitch in annoyance at Amphitrite’s sugary sweet tone. Great. It seemed another distraction had come knocking at his door.

“You should rest. Look at how tired you are.” Amphitrite coos out as she makes her way towards her husband, taking a seat on his lap before he could argue or shove her away. Gently and slowly, Amphitrite takes her fingers and traces Poseidon’s jaw line. “You're so tense. Let me help you relax.”

Poseidon grunts out in distaste as Amphitrite places a kiss on his throat. Slowly, beginning to place more as she goes on.

This woman…

Poseidon sighs out lightly as he shakes his head. Let her do as she pleases for now. If she causes a tantrum now, it will only cause more trouble later.

As Poseidon takes a particularly deep sigh this time, he accidentally catches a wift of Amphitrite’s perfume on her neck.

Jasmine and Sandalwood, He can’t help but note. Two very strong, sexy scents. Ones that even more solidified Amphitrite dominate and Sultry personality. Any other man would probably be drooling on the spot from such a scent but not Poseidon. Never Poseidon. To him, it only overwhelmed his senses so much that it was starting to give him a headache.

What a pain.

As Poseidon tries to slip deep in his thoughts to ignore the oncoming headache, his thoughts accidentally slip back to you. As if summoned, the warm scent of cedar wood and vanilla overtake his senses. The same exact scent he caught on you when you were leaning against his shoulder while he was carrying you yesterday.

Damn it. Poseidon grits his teeth. Why can’t he seem to get her out of his head? He definitely needed to investigate this more. For this wasn’t normal. Just hours prior, he was reimagining her ghost-like touch on his hand.

“Tch.” Poseidon lets out as he is broken from his thoughts. Instantly grabbing onto his wife’s hand that, while he was lost in dreamworld, had travelled down much further than he appreciated. “Enough.”

“Don’t lie, My Lord.” Amphitrite purrs out, as leans more into her husband, “I could feel how hard you were starting to get for—“

“Enough.” Poseidon repeats again, this time pushing Amphitrite off of him so that she falls to the floor in front of him. “You are foolish to think I don’t know what you are up to.”

“Am I not allowed to spend t—“

“I’ve already heard from the servants about how you’ve been drinking and consuming things to boost your fertility recently.” Poseidon reveals as he swirls the wine in his glass, “If you think I’m going to knock you up once again with a child, you are gravely mistaken.”

Taking his gaze away from the wine, he glares down at Amphitrite, whose mood has now greatly soured. Practically foaming at the mouth from anger.

“If you are going to have a pathetic temper tantrum then leave.” Poseidon orders out, closing his eyes as he decides she is not worth looking at.

It is only at the deafening sound of the door being slammed that he opens them again once more. Amphitrite was long gone, her only traces being the cracks left on the wall from the door and a lingering scent of Jasmine.

However, Poseidon couldn’t care less. She could throw all the tantrums she wants but he would never have sex with her. For the one, and only, mistake he ever admits to making was accidentally getting her pregnant.

And, he has no intentions of making that same mistake again.

Author Note: As I warned before, Poseidon scene is a little weird. Like Bro, pull yourself together. But at least now that the reader nows what is going on from Scylla so Plans and events will be in motion. Especially since reader has to decided if should hate or possibly help Poseidon with his relationship with Triton. Onto the next chapter :)).

Also Decided to post this Chapter earlier since the other one got posted late yesterday’s

Taglist: @angeli-fucking-cat @marixxhq @sproutcorner @orophaea @anime-lover-forever-1127 @fortuna-stella @icy-spicy

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #snv poseidon x reader #snv #snv poseidon #record of ragnarok #bivalve

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testudoaubrei-blog · 3 years

Text

“I’m loyal, that’s my whole thing.” - Scorpia, Season 4 Episode 6, Princess Scorpia

“Everything they taught us in the Horde about loyalty is meaningless” - Lonnie, Season 4 Episode 5, Protocol

Rewatching Season 4, I just finished Princess Scorpia. This is an episode that has always stuck with me, especially the A plot of Scorpia realizing how badly Catra has treated her and everyone else and deciding to leave. One thing I’ve been thinking about since I finished the series, though, is what this episode is telling us on a larger level. Looking beyond the character arcs and more at this show’s larger themes and message. Because this show is very much a show that says things, made by people who believe them. That earnestness and depth is one reason I keep coming back to it.

In the pull-quote above, and throughout the episode and before it, Scorpia defines herself in terms of loyalty. It is her identity - as she says, that’s what Scorpions do, they’re loyal. Her actions for three and a half seasons bear this out. When she first shows up, she tries to position herself as Catra’s new best friend, the one who won’t leave her and will stick by her no matter what. And that’s what she does, until this episode. She sticks by Catra through Catra’s increasingly villainous plots and erratic behavior. But she doesn’t just stick around. Until the portal, she barely contradicts Catra, and even afterwards, does so only furtively and immediately backs away as soon as Catra pushes back. For more than a year of show time, Scorpia has not just stood by Catra, or supported her, she’s actively assisted her in her most villainous and destructive acts. Scorpia is fighting by Catra’s side, eagerly carrying out her orders, and doing her utmost to see that Catra succeeds. But her loyalty goes beyond this practical help. Because for all that Catra loudly declares that she doesn’t need a new best friend, she consistently seeks out connection throughout the show, even when she’s at her most isolated in season 4. She needs moral support, and connection, and to know that she isn’t alone. Scorpia provides that, and keeps Catra going. Though Scropia isn’t initiating Catra’s various misdeeds, she’s assisting and supporting Catra throughout. On a personal, psychological level, the only word that seems adequate for this is ‘ennabling’ - Scorpia, sweet as she is, is Catra’s enabler. We see in the next few episodes what happens when Catra doesn’t have Scorpia’s support - she breaks down, and realizes that her actions really do have consequences, and that the affection she took for granted for so many years is something she can’t live without. But as long as Scorpia’s still around, Catra can’t make that realization.

Now I’m not going to say that Scorpia is morally culpable for Catra’s own actions. She’s not. Catra is solely responsible for her various betrayals, manipulations, violent outbursts and assorted murder attempts against...most of the rest of the cast (though being raised by Shadow Weaver sure as shit is a mitigating factor). But while Catra is obviously being a bad friend to Scorpia throughout, Scorpia isn’t actually being as supportive or helpful to Catra as she thinks, because Catra doesn’t actually need unconditional support, she needs people to be honest with her and express to her how she’s hurting them. She needs people who will stand up for themselves just as she needs to take responsibility for her own actions. This is part of why she and Adora have such a healthy dynamic in season 5 - Adora doesn’t take her crap, and Catra takes responsibility for her crap.

However, Scorpia -is- responsible for her own actions. And as I said above, she’s been with Catra every step of the way as Catra has attacked just about everyone and made war on Etheria. On a larger, political level, Scorpia is a willing participant in upholding the Horde’s oppressive system, and executing a war of aggression and colonization against innocent people. Speaking of colonization, perversely, she’s loyal to the very organization that dispossessed her and literally stole her birthright, then discarded it like a useless trinket when it was no longer useful to them. No one ever suggests ‘why don’t we let Scorpia connect with ~her runestone~’ until Glimmer does (and Glimmer’s motivations and arguments aren’t exactly forthright). Scorpia’s loyalty makes her an accomplice in her own oppression (like a bunch of the themes in this show there’s some interesting post-colonial stuff that the show doesn’t fully explore, probably because Noelle and the crew felt self-conscious about telling a post colonial story, or just didn’t know where to go with it). Interestingly, Scorpia’s loyalty to the Horde here parallels her loyalty to Catra, which has made her completely disregard her own wellbeing, which is the most obvious take away from the episode.

But I would argue that everything above shows that for Scorpia loyalty has been a way of avoiding developing her own moral compass. Scorpia repeatedly shoves aside questions of right or wrong in favor of being loyal to her friends and to the Horde. Loyalty has made Scorpia not only willing to accept her own mistreatment, but to willingly mistreat others, and to keep herself from asking any hard questions about what she’s doing or why. This is despite the fact that Scorpia is, by inclination, an incredibly gentle, kind and compassionate person. She’s willing to silence the best parts of her nature out of loyalty to Catra and the Horde. In the end, she also commits acts of violence and perpetuates the oppression of Etheria. And this is so insightful, because we see this sort of thing in our world all the time. So many oppressive institutions depend upon the loyalty of their members to keep them ‘just following orders’; so many abusive systems depend upon loyalty to stifle dissent and silence potential whistleblowers before they even speak. We see this in some of the most oppressive institutions and the worst scandals in our own society, and looking back through human history we see it in some of our nation’s and our species' most infamous crimes.

And when we look at the Horde as a system that Hordak has built in imitation of his elder brother’s empire, we see just how central loyalty is an ethos. Hordak himself is motivated entirely by loyalty to Prime - being a former clone, he spends the entire series not fully capable of accepting himself as an autonomous being (even when he acts like one and enjoys it, there’s some fucked up religious shit there that I won’t get into). He seems to have instilled this in his followers. The Horde Trio, Catra and Scorpia all hold loyalty as one of their highest values. Catra clings to it as her biggest accusation against Adora - that she was disloyal, as expressed in Catra’s perception that Adora broke her promise and abandoned her. Loyalty keeps the Horde Trio together and fighting for the Horde, and Scorpia with Catra. I think we can read between the lines and say the Horde runs on loyalty (as well as fear) and this is a very insightful portrayal of oppressive military and paramilitary institutions like armies of conquest and occupation and other instruments of state violence.

There’s another, related way of looking at how a sole reliance on loyalty as a moral framework has stunted Scorpia’s moral growth, and I think that brings together both the ways that it makes Scorpia willing to accept her mistreatment and participate in the mistreatment of others. Namely, loyalty in the Horde style isn’t just sticking with someone or something, but subsuming your own will into theirs. Following orders. Supporting your friend in what they do no matter what. Whatever you call it, it’s about turning off your own self - your self preservation, your self respect, your conscience, whatever other things you value - and just going along with what the person or institution you are loyal to wants you to do. And this is where Horde loyalty goes full circle, back to its origin - Horde Prime, the narcissistic self-made god who wishes to control or destroy everything that is not himself. Loyalty as Hordak conceived of it and as the Horde believes in it is a reflection of Prime's absolute control over all his domain.

In a way, self-determination is one of this show’s highest values (together with love). It’s at the heart of Adora’s 5-season, 3 year struggle to become her own woman and her own hero as she shrugs off one imposed destiny and then another and finally embraces what she wants. In a more negative form, it’s at the heart of Catra’s arc, as she finally accepts responsibility for her own actions and their consequences and starts working to make a world that she actually wants to live in, as well as admit to herself that what she really wants is love. And I could go on. This self-determination is existentially, obviously threatened by Prime chipping people, but it is also stunted by horde-style loyalty that demands unquestioning support and obedience.

Both the Horde Trio and Scorpia reject the Horde’s ideal of loyalty and walk away, but I think it’s interesting how they do it. Neither rejects loyalty entirely (not on the way Adora does) - the Trio, realistically, remain loyal to each other and simply walk away and walk out of the war (this might save their lives), joining the other disillusioned cynics in the Crimson Wastes. They reject loyalty to the horde and embrace a more supportive and respectful form of loyalty to each other. Scorpia leaves, but she actually comes to her crisis and makes her decision out of loyalty, and because it’s clear that her loyalty isn’t returned. The immediate situation - loyalty to Emily and Entrapta’s memory on one hand and Catra’s orders on the others - creates the conflict between loyalties that forces Scorpia to actually make her own choice rather than deferring to Catra. But she also reflects how Catra betrayed her loyalty to Entrapta, and thus how all of her friends’ loyalty to Catra is not returned.This is another point about horde-style loyalty - it’s one way - Hordak or Catra will demand your loyalty, but they feel no obligation to return it, which reflects Prime’s view of every other being in the universe as disposable. It’s only when she’s with the Princesses that Scorpia starts to find a new moral center, though sticking up for and protecting her friends remains important to her. In neither case, though, are these kinds of loyalty coming at the cost of either the Trio or Scorpia’s autonomy or ability to make moral choices of their own. In the very next episode, she says she wants to 'be A good friend' which is how the Princesses typically describe sticking together, which is a much more active and holistic concept than 'loyalty'. Scorpia confesses that she doesn't even know how, but she wants to learn and thinks the princesses can teach her.

There's another interesting counterexample to Horde Loyalty. Adora repeatedly breaks with the people around her to do what is right. First she leaves the Horde, then walks away from Catra by stages when it is clear that Catra is going to continue to harm other people and Etheria. Then she walks away from Glimmer, defies Light Hope and breaks loyalty with her supposed destiny and purposes as well as loyalty to the homelans she has never known. By season 5, Adora is loyal only to herself and the people she cares about, but she isn't constraining her will to anyone else's. For all that she seems like a rule follower Adora has a rebellious streak a mile wide, and she will do what is right, no matter what. This is what allows her to save the universe 3 times.

So the show’s argument is that loyalty is not a good moral framework to base all of our actions around. I don’t think it goes so far as saying that loyalty has no place in our ethics (being a good friend, which is such a huge part of the show, certainly includes loyalty, especially sticking with people when the going gets tough), but the show stresses time and again that being loyal to something or someone shouldn’t make you disregard yourself and what you think is right. Because it’s only by living out our own values and taking responsibility for our own actions that we can come into our own as moral beings. Moreover, if we insist on maintaining loyalty to institutions that oppress us and others, we can’t dismantle the systems of oppression that are holding us and other people down. (Yes, this is a pretty radical message, but I suspect that Noelle is some kind of anarchist? Anyway, it’s a thing.)

Okay, so that’s what I, a 35 year old, get from this kids show. I think it’s also worth pointing out that this lesson applies to younger viewers too, in their most immediate lives. Younger viewers will have had friends who didn’t treat them well, or might not have treated other people well, and who might have pressured them into participating in the mistreatment of others (this is kind of how bullying works a lot of the time). I think it’s important that younger viewers see how being a good friend never means disrespecting yourself or other people and it means a lot to me that She-Ra shows this in such a nuanced and realistic way.

#she ra #she ra spoilers #spop #she ra netflix #she ra and the princesses of power #meta #analysis #scorpia

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daloy-politsey · 3 years

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On my first date with Yehoram, I offered him a sip of my prosecco at the hip Tel Aviv bar I had brought him to. He tensed, paused and quietly replied, “I’m not sure if I can. I don’t know if it’s kosher.” I immediately recognized his confession for what it was: a coming-out. I told him that it’s fine, that we can ask the waitress if the wine has a certification, that I grew up in an observant family too. He finally breathed.

I already knew that Yehoram is female-to-male transgender. In fact, it was the only thing written on his dating profile. Over the course of our year-long relationship, and then our seamless transition into friendship late last year, he explained to me that the queer community will often accept that he is trans but not that he is religious. But the same is not always necessarily true of the religious community – and particularly of his family.

There are many preconceptions about his family. The matriarch Mazal, 74, and patriarch Yehiel, 78, were both born in Sana’a, Yemen, and immigrated to the newly-declared State of Israel in early childhood. (Haaretz is honoring their request not to publish the family name.) They are visibly Haredi: Mazal wears long skirts and tucks her hair into modest black caps; Yehiel trims his salt-and-pepper beard, and wears a uniform of crisp dress shirts, black pants and a black velvet kippa.

They speak with heavy Yemenite accents – which have been at least partially adopted by their seven children – and their speech is seasoned with religious aphorisms and allusions. People are surprised to learn that Yehoram, 32, is accepted and supported by his parents, to a degree that is rare even in the secular homes of Tel Aviv.

At their kitchen table in a town near Rehovot, central Israel, Mazal has set out water, juice and a homemade cake. Yehiel has set down a voice recorder of his own, to make sure he isn’t misrepresented. They have a story to tell about being the parents of a trans son, and they have decided that I am allowed to tell it.

Before we begin the interview, both are apprehensive. After much deliberation, they decide that I can publish their names but not their images. Yehiel is a respected figure in religious circles: he serves as his synagogue’s main cantor on the High Holy Days, is a mezuzah scribe and kashrut supervisor for the Chief Rabbinate. He spends his free time poring over religious texts, with Yehoram often alongside him. His son no longer attends the local synagogue in which his father plays so large a role; the congregation knew him before his transition, and it could hurt his family’s reputation.

If someone goes to the rabbi with this article in hand and tells Yehiel that he’s out of the fold, “at our age, there’s no fight left. There’s nothing you can do,” he says. “It would destroy me.” When he thinks I cannot hear him, he says that he suspects that one of his contracts as a kashrut supervisor was not renewed for this exact reason – because of his unconventional family.

But if getting his story out shows religious parents that they can embrace their own LGBTQ children, he wants it published. “I want to help,” he says.

Mazal chimes in. “Both of us do. You hear these stories about parents throwing their children out ... I don’t understand it. I don’t understand how you throw out your child.”

She recounts going to the shivah of a friend of Yehoram’s – the transgender queer activist DanVeg, who took her own life in 2016. “I saw them all in the living room, with their heads on each other’s shoulders. I started to cry. I wanted to hug them all, to go one by one. And they came to me; they saw the look in my eye. There was a man who had become a woman, who came to hug me. And a young girl, and more. I couldn’t take it,” she says, wiping away tears that are coming faster and faster. “More and more of them told us that they’re alone, abandoned by their parents. How can you throw out your child? The child of a human being!”

I get up to hug her, and she cries into my back: “Why? Why would you throw your child out of your house? Why?”

They say they never suspected that Yehoram was different before he came out to them, if not unconventionally, as queer at the age of 18, some 14 years ago.

He did not employ the usual lexicon: “I told them, this is how I am – I’m wearing pants from now on and I’m not interested in men,” he recounts. In Yehoram’s absence, Yehiel recalls it as well. Yehoram sat his parents down in the living room and said his piece, and then asked his parents for a response.

“We got up immediately, as if it were coordinated,” Yehiel says. “We hugged [him] from both directions … and we told [him], ‘You have nothing to be afraid of, no need to worry. You’re our daughter, it doesn’t matter what you do.’” Yehoram then opened his backpack to show a couple days’ clothes inside. “If you didn’t accept me, I would have killed myself,” he told his parents.

From there, they worked to make sure that their son wouldn’t, for one moment, forget that he is loved and cared for. They also made sure that he could live a normal life. “It was important that he be self-sufficient, have a respectable career, be able to build a life without us,” Yehiel explains. “Every day, I’m afraid that he won’t be here. I think about how he can build his life so he’s not dependent on anyone else.”

Mazal and Yehiel tend to refer to Yehoram with female pronouns when he isn’t in the room, and occasionally slip into them when he is. To her, Mazal says, he will always be their daughter. “It’s hard for me,” Yehiel concurs. “[He] should be patient.”

Mazal calls him by his chosen name – an anagram of his birth name – to make him happy. “And to connect with [him] – what can you do? We love [him] either way. [He’s] our daughter.”

There have been difficulties in accepting him along the way, she concedes. But like many parents of LGBTQ children, they are mainly rooted in concerns that he will be able to live a safe, fulfilling life.

No one should mistake their acceptance for liberalism – they repeatedly note that the Pride Parades, with their scanty clothes and glitter, are unsightly. “The left brings it in,” Mazal says. “Non-Jews from abroad, with all their tattoos and whatnot.” However, their embrace of their transgender son and the many queer people who have passed through their doors does not come in spite of their firm religious beliefs, but is the direct result of them.

Yehiel, a lifelong religious scholar, has poured over sources biblical, talmudic, rabbinic and kabbalistic. The kabbalistic concept of the soul provides a simple explanation for the transgender phenomenon, he believes.

“We have the knowledge that Jewish souls can be reincarnated into anything – into non-Jewish families, into animals, even into food,” Yehiel explains. “We were taught that the soul of a man can be reincarnated into a woman, in order to remedy something he had done in a past life.”

When Mazal was pregnant with Yehoram, she had already given birth to five daughters and was hoping for a son. The couple went to a respected rabbi, who told them to buy a bottle of wine for the circumcision ceremony and to come see him 40 days into the pregnancy. Yehiel says that when the time came, it was hard to get hold of the rabbi to schedule an appointment, and they were only able to see him eight months in. The rabbi gave them the blessing regardless.

“The body was already formed female,” Yehiel says, but the prayers had worked: “The soul was male.”

And there is scripture to back up the existence of LGBTQ people within Judaism. “You’re not different, you’re not strange,” Yehiel says. “This [phenomenon] has always existed. It’s in the Torah, and it’s in the mystical sources.” Mazal adds: “It’s a shame that we don’t lay this out these days, to have everything written up and organized to say that it’s all there in scripture.”

At 26, Yehoram told his parents he was transitioning. He underwent top surgery – a double mastectomy – without informing them. “On the one hand, it hurt us,” Yehiel admits. “For us, it meant that’s it – it’s sealed. If he’d told us in advance, we would have told him to wait. Maybe the situation would change.”

But what’s done is done, Mazal says. “What hurt me is that [he] underwent the surgery and I wasn’t there. That ate at me.”

Both loudly agree that the important thing is that he is happy and healthy. “We hope just for success – and thank God there are many successes, so everything is alright,” she says. “I’m just waiting for children,” she laughs.

Yehoram, who has taken a seat next to her, smirks. Mazal jokes about him coming home pregnant one day. He’s slightly irked, but jokes along. A couple of years ago, he froze his eggs through Ichilov Hospital’s fertility clinic for transgender men, and hopes to one day become a father, no matter how he has to do it. His parents strongly supported the move. They have 31 grandchildren and two great-grandchildren.

Yehoram asks a question of his own: Whether his parents want to talk about the time they took him to an esteemed rabbi in Tel Aviv, after he came out at 18.

“After he told us everything, we consulted with a rabbi,” Yehiel relays. “I remember that he got angry and yelled at him. I didn’t like that. He hurt him, and I couldn’t stay any longer, so we left.”

“The rabbi told me that I had lapsed, deteriorated in my spirituality,” Yehoram explains. It’s clear that he remembers it vividly. “That I had fallen.”

After that, the rabbi told him to leave the room, and for his parents to stay. “I heard shouting, and then you left the room,” he says to his parents. “You didn’t say anything, I didn’t say anything. We were quiet all the way home.”

No one discussed the incident for days after, and they barely spoke at all. After three days, Yehoram says, he asked his mother what had happened after the rabbi told him to leave the room.

“I didn’t know what happened, I assumed the worst. You told me that [Dad] got very angry and told [the rabbi], ‘How dare you hurt and belittle a Jewish soul?’ You said you had to give him however much money, and that you just threw a small bill onto the table and left the room,” Yehoram tells his mother. “It really surprised me. I thought you were on his side, and then I suddenly heard that you were on mine.”

When he is with us in the room, Yehoram sometimes seems agitated by his parents’ insistence that their acceptance has always been complete. He tries to direct them toward other instances, other rabbis they don’t or won’t recall. It is often difficult for parents to acknowledge the pain or discomfort that their actions caused their children, even if they were accidental. Mazal brings out a picture from Yehoram’s bat mitzvah, of them embracing the young girl he was. They look almost exactly the same, 20 years later, beaming. Young Yehoram, in a long-sleeved, high-necked dress, is smiling, but the smile does not reach his eyes.

Elisha Alexander, co-CEO and founder of the transgender advocacy and information organization Ma’avarim, says that even though Yehiel and Mazal’s acceptance of their son may seem unique, he would like to think it’s more common than we assume.

“There are religious and even ultra-Orthodox people who accept their trans family members, but it’s usually in secret. The main problem in these communities is the leadership,” he says.

But if more of them realized that embracing their children was a matter of pikuach nefesh – the Jewish concept that saving a life supersedes most religious commandments and norms – they would be more inclined to find a halakhic solution to integrating transgender people into these communities.

There is also a misconception that acceptance is a binary choice: That any parent who does not kick their transgender child out of the house or disown them has, by default, accepted them. “This could not be further from the truth,” Alexander says. “Accepting your child means accepting every aspect inherent to them, including their gender identity, pronouns and so on.”

When parents refuse to do so, their child may seek acceptance elsewhere. He adds that studies show that acceptance within the family drastically reduces the suicide rate among transgender people.

Knowing this, Yehiel says that any parent in his position must continue loving and supporting their child. “This child can fall,” he says. He does not mention it, but he is aware of the stories and statistics: trans youth who find themselves on the street face high rates of abuse and exploitation. Thirty to 50 percent of transgender teens report suicidal thoughts and behaviors – a rate three times higher than for teens overall. But that figure falls to 4 percent when families accept and embrace them, says Sarit Ben Shimol, manager of the Lioness Alliance for families and transgender children and teenagers.

Yehiel adds that it is the duty of parents to give children the support they need to thrive. “As a parent, it is your responsibility to tell your child: You are my child and you are my life. My life depends on you. Watch over me so that I can watch over you,” he says.

As we get up from our seats, Yehiel looks at me for a moment and asks, “If it’s not too personal – since we already opened up the topic – what is your relationship like with your parents?”

I tell them that I talk to my parents, and especially my mother, almost every day. That it was difficult for them to come to terms with my sexual orientation as well, and that sometimes I have an inkling that it still is, even if they won’t say it outright. But I try to be patient.

“Good,” Mazal says. “It’s important to be patient – they’re learning too.” She embraces me again, and Yehiel rests a hand on my shoulder. They invite me to come again, whenever I like. “After all, you’re like our daughter, too.”

#lgbt jews #transgender #judaism #jumblr #transphobia cw

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anasticep · 3 years

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Why Julie and the Phantoms is a masterpiece of a show. Part 1 of 3

· NOTE: if somehow you happen to like my gifs, please, feel free to use them. But, please, don’t crop or change.

· NOTE 2: This meta has been flourishing in my mind for quite a long time, but it was @catty-words meta on Perfect Harmony that inspired me to actually put it all on paper

· NOTE 3: I planned two parts of this, but ended up with far more gifs than a post allows. I dunno. Not sure if anyone will actually be interested in this rumbling. Probably it won’t even be a new and outstanding thinking. I’ll see how it goes.

What sets a good show apart? I’ll tell you exactly this: the pilot and the finale.

Whether it’s a season finale or a grand finale, it doesn’t matter for a scenario. People tend to forget the middle, that’s why all we remember about LOST is this weird full of dead people church that simply left the fans heartbroken. But frankly speaking, LOST ended so much better then most modern shows. And honestly I get why it’s so hard to keep track on things after 6 years and such a long row of characters. That’s why making a season in one take is so much better, when writers do not depend on what the fans think or like or ship. They simply do their job.

Do I need to say that our brain clearly remembers everything we throw at it? We think we forget, but that’s not quite true. That’s also the reason how we distinguish what we like and dislike – we remember all the small things and foreshadowing. Also that’s why we keep re-watching the shows we love: we simply acknowledge what our brain already knows. We simply find that thread that links everything together.

And they can be simple things. But first on what made this script a masterpiece for me: first and last scenes in the studio (+some things from 0102 band circle scene of 0109).

1. The Studio Intro

In 0101 Julie hesitates to go in the garage. She was reluctant to go in the first place. It signifies everything she’s lost: mother, music, voice. She inhales deeply, steadying herself. She can do this.

In 0109 it’s quite the opposite. She wanted to go there even though she knew the guys had already crossed over. Now this place signifies everything she gained back and more: music, voice, friends and, of course, a way back to her mother. She did it.

And this is a perfect visual explanation of the line “It’s not what you lost, it’s what you gain raising your voice to the rain”

2. The Band Intro

Can you see it the way I see it? It’s not a coincidence, it’s been done on purpose. Julie is mortified both times but for completely different reasons. In 0101 she is scared OF them. In 0109 she is scared FOR them. It’s so heartbreakingly beautiful it even hurts.

3. Personal space

In 0101 Julie and Luke are both scared of each other. See that extra step she did to push him away? Or the way he acts as if Julie is really a witch that could curse him? And who needs any personal space in 0109? These scenes show their journey in the best way possible.

4. You have to leave

In 0101 after accepting the fact that she was sane enough and these three ghosts really existed Julie is simply annoyed. She orders them to leave. She doesn’t what them to exist in her life. She has no time to deal with these dead cute boys. She wants them gone.

In 0109 after acknowledging that their plan has failed she also wants them gone. She orders them to leave again. But she wants to save them and for now that’s the only way she can think of. It’s better than not existing at all, even if it means not existing in her life.

And just look at the directing. The shots are almost twins! Julie mimics the scene from 0101 almost entirely, although it hits on a different level. I don't exactly know why it makes me so excited, probably I'm just very tired of mediocre scripts.

5. Maybe she’s a witch

I’m sure she is at least to some extent. It’s such a wonderful foreshadowing. I hope in season 2 we'll find out more but I think the perception on this in "Feels like I’ve opened my eyes again" by @pink-flame is very close if not almost entirely accurate to what I thought about season 2 and all this magic thing. Such a masterpiece of a fanfiction btw, I wish I found the show sooner and was reading it chapter by chapter. One of the best things I've read so far in any fandom.

6. Attached to our souls & 7. She's warming up to us

Do I need to say much? That’s the magic Julie has: her love for these boys. They are attached to her soul.

8. We had nowhere else to go

To think about it, they didn’t need Julie’s permission to stay in the first place. Like… How on earth would she even get rid of them? But that’s what defined these friendship from the start. They asked for permission in 0101 and in 0109 Luke’s words are almost apologetic that they ended up in her garage again.

9. I'm sorry we came into your life

Again, look at how both episodes have been shot. 0101 they stand apart, not knowing anything about each other yet. They both are not very comfortable with the whole situation and Luke voices what Julie might be thinking: why me? In 0109 Julie answers her past self that it was a blessing and a miracle. They are the closest they've ever got to be and the most sincere.

10. I have space for only one more gif and I'm simply fond of this parallel. We need a Witch!Julie AU)))))

________________________

Due to the pics limit I have to stop here. But there is so much more to say. So stay tuned to see Parts two and three if you liked this one. God, I hope you did

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson #reggie peters #alex mercer #my first real post here #jatp meta #jatp analysis #my gifs #my edits #don't crop #please be nice

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1kook · 4 years

Text

youtube & use lube

part 7 of my netflix and chill collection!

summary: You can’t believe this is Jungkook’s preferred sick day treatment; YouTube, cuddles, and an ugly amount of lube. warnings: smut in the forms of nipple play, handjobs, spit kink, face riding, unprotected, flavored warming lube, riding, praise kink, soft femdom, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, tit sucking, more jk has an impreg kink, oh and this is all subby kook rating: mature (18+) miscellaneous: domesticity baby!! fluff, soft scenes /.\, jk is sick:((, doyeon is A Doctor, yn sees an opportunity and she grabs it, surprise ending <3 word count: 8.7k

notes: finally…. 7 parts later and we get ~✨💓sub kook💓✨~ this was honestly my fave to write I think because I was obSESSEDDD with his softness and yn leading hehe /.\ also yeah we time jumped 6 months bc uhmmm 😎 story progression also here’s [ THE KOOK U SHOULD IMAGINE FOR THIS 😡 ] also if see a typo ummm no u didn't .

let me know what u think! a simple ask goes a long way <3

Despite what past experiences may dictate, Jungkook’s body is actually quite resilient. It’s due in part to his obnoxiously healthy lifestyle; avocado breakfasts, gym rat tendencies, and a normal person’s circadian rhythm (you could never relate). He lives the life health professionals can only dream of writing down in their notes, so careful of his well-being that it’s almost annoying. Of all the habits you help him break, the rituals he sometimes forgets, his health is never one and it’s actually one he ropes you into quite often. The ladder accident last summer had truly been an odd occurrence, and for a while after, you doubt anything else will ever happen to him.

And then winter comes.

Now, Jungkook, with all his superior bodily systems and strict lifestyle, is still not immune to the common cold. So when he comes down with a stuffy nose, a saggy frame, you’re not too surprised. It’s right after New Year’s, which you had spent it at one of Taehyung’s classic overcrowded parties this year, shivering on a rooftop as he kissed you silly under the fireworks, so one of you was bound to get sick. And you were sick for Halloween, so it’s only the universe’s way of leveling the playing field when he gets sick after New Years.

What does surprise you is when he doesn’t bounce back right away. Usually, Jungkook’s high caliber immune system has him in tip top shape about two days later. But this time around, it takes a while. In fact, it takes longer than usual, and you don’t realize until you’re coming over on a Friday night, met with an unusual silence at the Jeon household.

As you slowly grew accustomed to your life out of school, you and Jungkook accepted that you didn’t really have time to be glued to each other’s hips at all hours of the day. It was only natural that sometimes you had too much work, were too tired, or were just not in the mood to visit each other. That was fine, and you’ve come to quite appreciate this new routine, because it only made your heart flutter faster than before when you did see him next. You don’t have to see each other everyday, and that was fine; it was part of growing up together (and growing old together, your sappy heart says).

But today, this separation ends up being your downfall. Jungkook first showed signs of a cold on Monday, and now it was Friday and you hadn’t heard from him in two days. You’re beginning to suspect he’s come down with something severe— maybe that strain of the flu that he forgot to get vaccinated for this year —or even worse, dead.

Luckily, Jungkook isn’t dead, just sadly slumped across the end of his bed, nose a bright red and hair a tangled mess. “Oh no,” you frown, but there’s not an ounce of distress in your voice, because boy, was he cute.

He groans at the sight of you. “Don’t look at me,” he whimpers, hands fisting the sheets. “I’m ugly.”

You bite down on a smile, hang your bag on the hook behind his bedroom door. He’s barely making an effort to stay on the bed, clinging to the side with such powerless hands. “Absolutely hideous,” you play along, arms wrapping around his middle. Registering your touch, your support, he immediately releases what little grip he had and almost sends the two of you tumbling to the ground. “My poor baby,” you croon, manhandling him back into the comfort of his sheets.

Perhaps the reason you believed Jungkook was so immune was because, well, he never let you see him sick.

He was picky about his presentation to the world, always wanting to show his best side. And well, you were in that world. Hell, you were probably the main person he wanted to show off for (not to toot your own horn), so he avidly avoided showing you his unpleasant sides. Even in college, when you had been practically stuck to his side, he had always made a big deal of pushing you away when he was sick, calling off dates and hiding away at his house.

You sort of knew why. Namjoon had told you once that Jungkook when drunk was the equivalent of a needy, whiny baby. You could attest to that because wine drunk Jungkook and vodka drunk Jungkook were quite the experiences to haul home. And apparently Jungkook when sick was more or less the same. He was all doe eyes and pouty lips, magnified by his weakened appearance. He was adorable.

He’s wearing a lot of layers, but it’s still winter so you don’t think too much of it. Dark long sleeve sweatshirt, the front tucked into some cute brown and black checkered pants. You see it as just some casual at home attire until you reach for his covers, hand brushing his hair from his face, only to find it ice cold.

“Oh, you’re freezing, honey,” you frown, for real this time. Jungkook whimpers, snuggles into the sheets you pull up to his chin. He dozes off soon after, pouty lips chapped to hell and back. You reach for your chapstick, deciding to get one good use of it on your own lips before contaminating it with Jungkook’s sick germs. Even in his sleep he’s a good boy, rolling his lips together after you’ve applied it on him.

With Jungkook knocked out, you pad back downstairs and into his kitchen. You can more or less infer that he’s come down with something a little more intense than a cold. His skin was cold, and his nose was runny, but, oddly enough, he wasn’t sweating. You decide to consult a professional.

“The little gremlin is sick?” Doyeon repeats, a comforting buzz in your ear as you get to work making Jungkook your famous Get Better Soon Soup, idly waiting for the water to boil over. You confirm. Doyeon, legend that she was, accidentally sat an entire physiology class one semester (and passed), so this is the closest you’ll get to a doctor friend. “Hm,” she says, “what’re his symptoms?”

You press your phone between your ear and shoulder, clattering around Jungkook’s kitchen for ingredients. “Runny nose and colder than your ass that one time you passed out in the snow,” you supply. “Oh, but not sweating.”

Doyeon hums over the line, tells you to give her a second, and disappears. “WebMD is saying fever, but you said he’s not sweating?” You confirm again. “Throw him in front of the heater and make him sweat then. He has to burn it out somehow.”

“I can’t do that,” you sigh, pausing when you hear some vague sound from around the house. It’s not Jungkook, so you return to your call. Anyway, Jungkook’s house is, like, perfect. Always warm when need be and always cold as well. You don’t even think he knows what a space heater is. “He’s sick sick. Like, can barely hold himself up sick.”

She scoffs. “And I care why?” You huff, go to scold her for their weird rivalry, but then she’s moving on. “Babe, just give him some pain relief and call it a day.”

“Fine,” you mumble. “Wait, can you look something else up for me?”

Anyway, Jungkook probably has a fever, except it’s weird because he’s not sweating it out. He wakes up about an hour later, but this time he’s more self aware. He eats his soup and takes the medicine you offer him. Afterwards, he can’t go back to sleep so he huffily asks for his iPad and begins watching some weirdly specific YouTube videos you don’t think you’ve ever seen him watch before.

You have absolutely no idea what he’s watching, some niche videos of guys in Singapore turning random forest areas into underwater pools? You don’t know. Jungkook seems interested, though, for all of ten minutes until he falls asleep again.

He’s still cold, poor baby, nose like an ice cube that just won’t melt. You find a heating pad you left over in his closet and place it on his chest. Your thought process is that if his heart, the source of all energy, was warm, then certainly the rest of him will warm up soon enough. Yeah, you missed the last three seasons of Grey’s Anatomy; you were a little rusty.

So with Jungkook fast asleep and nothing else to do, you assume the age-old, patriarchal task of cleaning around the house.

His house was usually neat and tidy, mostly as a result of Jungkook’s virgo manifestations, but even those varied. His living room tended to be spotless, but his personal office was a different story. But with him having been out of it this past week, the entire house is littered in tiny garbage that would make Normal Jungkook burst a blood vessel.

There’s a pile of Reese’s wrappers in the downstairs bathroom, on the sink next to his toothbrush. The sight makes you sad, because your poor boy must have been struggling if he was eating candy in the bathroom, where he… uses the bathroom. And then that thought makes you even sadder, thinking back to all the times he was sick and alone, fending for himself out of his weird embarrassment of showing normal body functions.

You had thought he was cute when you first arrived— he still was —but he was also so weak and frail, bulky muscles rendered useless by whatever bacteria was attacking his body, making him sleepy and in pain for god knows how long. With a resolute nod, you sweep all the wrappers into the trash and decide to do your very best at helping Jungkook get through this sickness and bounce back better than ever.

Before leaving his bathroom, you ransack his cabinets, deciding he probably keeps most of his antibiotics here. It’s a spot you never really snoop around, because Jungkook always keeps a fully stocked basket in his closet filled with your typical necessities— from conditioner to pads to nail polish remover, he kept it all. And furthermore, you always tended to use his upstairs bathroom anyway, so that’s where your toothbrush and the like were kept. There was really no need for you to ever look through the downstairs bathroom’s cabinet. So the downstairs bathroom cabinet is practically the other side of the world to you, a culture shock so strong it has you plopping down in front of it to thoroughly sift through.

He’s got a disgusting amount of hair products, none of which you actually think you’ve ever seen him use, and a maniacal amount of tooth stuff. Now, you were quite possibly the biggest proponent for dental care, but this was ridiculous. Four packs of floss on reserve, and about three cases of those dental picks. A whole family pack of toothbrushes and one of those cute little cases for his retainer you’ve seen a few times.

So overwhelmed with his ungodly stash of dental hygiene utilities, you almost miss the pretty pink tube hidden in the very back corner.

You’re thinking it’s some makeup primer you left before that he mistook for moisturizer, probably dumped it with all his other things, only to find out you are very, very wrong.

Sensation Warming Lubricant: NOW! in strawberry flavor

You blink.

Lubricant? Jungkook was using lubricant? Strawberry, sensation warming lubricant?!

Somewhere in your mind you had convinced yourself that Jungkook was a simple man, a lotion at his bedside drawer type of man. He had you for the last one and half year, and you two fucked like rabbits, so you hardly doubt he was jacking it alone these days. And even if he was, why on earth was he so specific about the type of lube he uses?

You turn the bottle around, eyes scanning for an expiration date or something of the like, only to find that the copyright symbol was under this current year. The year that had just started, like, two weeks ago.

Oh, so this was new.

You turn it over, eyes scanning over the warnings like it’ll tell you something about your boyfriend you don’t know yet, some other hidden secret that he’s maybe held from you. Granted, owning lube isn’t really a big deal, but the fact he’s got it so hidden away (not really, it was casually sitting beside his sunscreen) was definitely something to zero in on.

Strawberry flavored, you read again, warming, stimulating, edible? Forget his weirdly extensive floss collection, you had stumbled upon something amazing in here, the goddamn Hope Diamond among snooping girlfriend finds. You’ll confront him about this later, you decide, when he’s back to normal and not whiningly calling your name from upstairs. You pocket it for now, tucking it into your cardigan pockets for said later interrogation, and bound up the stairs to him again.

He’s sitting up in bed like a very angry and confused toddler, brows furrowed sharply like he’s mad. Actually, he just can’t see, the light from the hallway blinding him, so you shut the door and flick on his bedside lamp for him instead. “Hi, honey,” you coo, sitting down on the edge beside him. He’s still waking up, leaning a little too heavily into your palm when you cup his face. “How’re you feeling?”

“Terrible,” he rasps out, but he’s definitely looking better than before. You don’t know if you imagine it, but there’s this slowly accumulating sweat that forms along the base of his neck. “Please don’t leave again,” he says softly, droopy eyes glassy.

Something shoots straight to your heart— an arrow from Cupid himself! —that makes you stroke his cheek tenderly until his eyelids are fluttering shut again. “I won’t,” you promise, feeling around for his iPad. He doesn’t seem like he’ll fall back asleep, sitting up with more strength than he had that morning.

You end up climbing behind him, let him be the little spoon you know he secretly craves to be, as he watches his weird YouTube videos again. His body is so warm against yours, but his skin is still so cold. If what Doyeon had said was true, it’s no wonder he’s kept the same sickness all week. The rhythmic sound of machetes hacking at the earth and water trickling through bamboo pipes grows on you, makes you fall into a sense of comfort behind him, arms tracing circles over his chest.

It’s a mindless habit, one you actually do a lot. Most of the time, it’s when he’s at his desk and stressed out, your masseuse hands making an appearance to soothe the muscles in his neck and chest from being hunched over for so long. Even now, your fingers unconsciously press into the fabric over his pecks, tickle up his sternum until he’s melting against you.

It takes one quiet whimper from him to let you know exactly how he’s feeling. “Everything alright?” you inquire, halting your movements over his chest. Jungkook nods shakily, head lolling forward. The nape of his neck calls to you, whispers for a kiss that you tenderly bestow upon it. It makes Jungkook jolt, another pretty sound leaving his lips at the press of your warm lips against his sensitive neck.

“No more,” he mumbles, rolls his head around until it’s resting against your shoulder, giving you a clear view down his chest. You slide your hands back up from where they’d gone stiff just around his ribs, let them palm over his pecs. Jungkook’s hips buck, a minuscule movement you almost miss.

His heart thunders like the inside of a horse race track beneath your palm, breath picking up just from the simple motion of your hands on his chest. It’s on the fourth circle around his pecs that you feel your pinky briefly catch on something. “Poor thing,” you sigh, running the pad of your pointer finger over the hardened nipple that peaks beneath his sweatshirt. “Is this what was bothering you?”

A shaky exhale in response, hands tightly clutching at his iPad and beloved YouTube video genre. “N-No,” he denies, but you chance a peak at his face, where his lips are bitten a rosy pink color, its slightly muted sister rushing down his cheeks, over his neck.

You press the lightest of kisses to the side of his neck, and he shivers. “Need me to take care of you?” you purr, trail your hands down his chest towards where the hem of his sweater sits. You run your finger over it twice, before moving to slip your hand beneath. Your fingers brush along his abs, contracted tightly at your touch, and slowly make their way back up his chest.

Fingers find his pebbled nipples, a gasp escaping his lips. “Does this feel good?” you ask softly, pinching the swollen nubs between your fingers. Jungkook groans, body arching just the slightest as you rub his nipples, tug and twist them until he’s a whining mess. “Need you to tell me, honey,” you encourage, lips ghosting over his neck.

The second kiss has him flinching as well, head rapidly turning the other way as you slowly kiss over his neck. “___, please,” he pants, knuckles pale on the sides of the iPad. You're afraid it’ll snap, if not from his grip then from the way he pushes at it, like he’s breaking a wooden board over his knee. It’s still on YouTube, playing another video from the same collection, volume competing with Jungkook’s tiny sounds.

Pressing your lips to his neck, you kiss along it slowly, reveling in the lovely noises that Jungkook produces the more you rub his nipples, lower body squirming animatedly before you. Your kisses grow wet for a short period, suck purple blossoms across his skin until Jungkook is quivering like a leaf. “E-Enough,” he begs, voice a wobbly mess that is so light and airy.

You grin, giving his rockhard nipples one last flick before sliding your hands down his chest, over his stomach to toy with the elastic of his pants. He inhales sharply, iPad nearly snapped in half mid video. Ready to play with him some more (and slightly afraid for the future of his tablet), you reach out a hand to move it away, set it off to the side.

But Jungkook doesn’t release it. In fact, he clings to the damn piece of tech tighter than before. “Hmm?” you murmur, bottom lip brushing against his neck once more. “Not letting go, sweetheart?”

He shakes his head, soft crown of curls bouncing from the movement. “Can’t, can’t,” he shivers. His knees shift back and forth, move between being casually spread and flush together. Like he’s hiding something, using the iPad and the videos on screen as cover. You tug at his wrist and Jungkook shakes his head again.

You change tactics, hand sliding around his wrist instead. The other travels up, up, up, comes curling around the base of his neck. Jungkook whimpers, tilts his head back for you cutely at the first brush of your fingers against his Adam’s apple. “Thought you were my good boy?” you ask, eyes zeroed in on the tremble of his lower lip.

Jungkook exhales shakily, a rather torn expression crossing his features. “I am,” he insists, fingers still tight “I am your good boy.”

You smile, stroking the front of his neck softly as you lean down to press a kiss against his cheek. “You are, aren’t you?” He whimpers. “Then let go, honey,” you murmur, hand on his wrist giving another experimental tug. Still, his grip remains solid. “Jungkook,” you snap, “let go.”

“Y-You’ll laugh,” he cries, yet his grip slowly weakens. It’s with a swift tug that the iPad tumbles to his side, presses against his hip, and shows you the raging hard-on that stirs beneath the front of his cotton pants. Pressed nearly beside your ear, Jungkook shivers.

Ever so slowly, your hands return to their place around his waist. “Why would I laugh, sweetheart?” you mumble, marveling at the way his cock twitches and jumps beneath his pants before you can even touch it. His shirt is hiked up just above his abs, your hands tenderly stroking over the skin beneath his navel, but it’s got Jungkook writhing. “Hips up for me,” you instruct.

He shakes even when he pushes himself up, knees wobbling as you slip your hands beneath his waistband and tug them down his thighs. Afterwards, his legs flop forward flatly, spread out with his beautiful swollen cock on display against his hip.

You trap it at the base and Jungkook mewls, hands fisting the sheets now that his beloved iPad has been snatched away. It’s still playing his videos, interrupting his saccharine moans with corny ads every few minutes. A hand snaps up to join, opposite of yours, until your fingers are entwined around his dick. How romantic, you think, discreetly rolling your hips back against the mattress. “Gonna help me make you cum?” you ask instead, give him a light squeeze that makes him jolt.

“Uh huh,” he responds, feathery.

You reward him with a kiss to his cheek, reaching up to brush away the hair that’s begun sticking to his forehead. In the very back of your head you recognize this as being good for his fever, but the rest of you is more concerned with the pretty pout on his lips. “Hold tight for me,” you smile, releasing his cock to press your finger against the very tip of his cock where a pearly drop of precum has begun forming. “So pretty, Jungkookie,” you praise, teasing the length of your finger over the slit on his head. It has that juicy droplet coating your finger, gliding seamlessly over and over again.

The simple touch makes him buck, has him blindly wrapping an arm around your bent knee that was pressed to his side this whole time. He squeezes around you rather weakly, the majority of his strength going to holding his cock tightly like you’d instructed. He’s such a good boy for you, trying his absolute best, even when you’re very obviously overwhelming him.

You roll the flat side of your finger over him, his mushroom tip slowly growing more and more slick as he produces more precum. It’s shiny, fits perfectly between your clasped fingers when you squeeze around his head. Jungkook’s breath turns labored.

He’s always so well kept down there, skin so smooth and free of hairs, and you know he does it because he wants to impress you. “So pretty, baby,” you hum, acknowledging his efforts. Your praise makes Jungkook moan, suddenly fucking up into his hand. It’s accidental, because he hisses at the drag of his dry palm around his relatively dry dick immediately.

“Hurts, hurts,” he whimpers prettily, lower lip caught between his teeth.

You frown, slide your wet fingers down the base of his cock until they’re wrapping around his and Jungkook’s little gasps even out. “I’m sorry, baby, you gotta be patie—“

Something presses against your hip, something distinctly hard that you had hastily picked up from his bathroom cabinet earlier, and a whole new door opens before your eyes. “Hold still for me,” you tell him quickly as you release your grip around his cock. Jungkook wails at the separation, but you’re more concerned with wrestling the tube out of your pocket with one hand. It’s heavy in your palm, turning over until that big fat label on front comes into view again.

Jungkook explodes at the sight. “Wh— Where did you find that?” he stammers, cheeks ablaze. “I-I don’t know where that came fro—“

You ignore him, hold the bottle of lubricant over his stomach as you uncap it, a gooey pink substance spilling over into your hands the moment the lid pops off. Jungkook is still rambling away about the origins of the bottle, as if you care. You set the bottle on his tummy, the cold plastic makes him shiver. But you know what’s not cold? The warming lube in your hands that only takes three rubs of your palms to activate.

You latch down like a crazed animal around his cock. With both your hands fighting to grip at his cock, you’re pressed closer against Jungkook, lips against the shell of his ear.

The initial touch makes him sob, back arching and legs kicking at the sheets piled at the foot of the bed as your slick hands track the lube over his dick. “No!” he cries, hands wildly reaching out to grab whatever he can as you slowly get to work pulling him off. “I-I can’t, __, I can’t.”

“You can,” you coo, watching the translucent pink substance coat his cock, join his sticky precum.

Maybe you get overexcited in your efforts, forget Jungkook is the way he is right now because he was still a little weak from his fever, but you go crazy on stroking his cock. One hand lingers around the base, squeezing and rolling over his balls, palm pressing against the hardened sac and squeezing there too. The other focuses at the tip, does most of the actual stroking over his cock. His head is leaking precum now, every stroke and squeeze making him shudder and push out another drop, until it’s mixing with the lube to form a sticky sweet substance that you wanna lick at so bad.

So you do.

You release one hand to curiously bring it up to your face, turning it over and around as you examine the stickiness on your fingers, the fat drop that unintentionally drips onto the front of Jungkook’s sweatshirt. He sobs at the sight of your lips around your fingers, squirms and bucks into the hand still on his cock until he’s embarrassingly coming. “I’m sorry,” he wails, hands fisting the sheets, fucking into your hand like a virgin. “I didn’t— I didn’t mean to.”

You draw your hand away, watching in slow motion the cum that just spurted from his cock come dribbling down the slowly softening length now. “Oh, sweetheart,” you croon, hands on his tummy. The bottle of lube slips to the side, meets the still playing iPad at his hip. It’s sticky and gross to touch him like this, especially when you know Jungkook hates being unnecessarily dirty, but you can’t stop yourself from softly caressing him, soothe him after such a hard-hitting orgasm.

Honestly you had thought he would hold up a little more, let you get in a few more strokes, but he must’ve been more sensitive than you thought. “I’m sorry,” he cries again, head lolling to the side to meet your gaze with watery eyes.

You tilt his head to the side, angle him just right for you to bestow your first kiss of the night against his little pout. Jungkook hiccups, melts against you as you slowly guide him through the kiss. He’s sloppy and shy, moves nothing like your normal Jungkook, and that fact alone has you slipping your tongue past his lips. He doesn’t fight back, just lets you play with him and sighs all delicately against your mouth.

There’s something about this, his soft and submissive attitude, that has you pulling away to look at him. Big brown eyes, glassed over with unshed tears, and plush lips that call your name. And yet.

“Open,” you murmur, hypnotized by the way that tiny mouth moves.

“Huh?” Jungkook flushes, but he’s so good, he’s your good boy, and does so anyway. Lower lip quivers as he parts his lips, stuttering exhales creeping through as you purse your lips, let the saliva collect on your mouth, before rudely spitting into his. He flinches, whimpers softly, and swallows. He looks at you with these expectant eyes, like he wants to hear how much of a good boy he is, so you do exactly that.

You brush his bangs away lovingly. “Aren’t you just so good for me,” you purr, revel in the way his eyes flutter shut at your touch, like you could never hurt him, and you won’t.

As sweet as the moment is, there’s a raging fire in your core begging to be stroked, and your hyperfixation on Jungkook’s mouth lets you know there’s only one way to chase the feeling. “Up,” you tell Jungkook, who whimpers sadly when you finally escape from behind him.

But you don’t get too far, settling beside him on the bed until you’re looking at the damage you’ve caused from the front. His skin is sticky in some places, pink sheen of the lube decorating him from your incessant touching. Pants around his thighs, shirt against his chest. His face is flushed, all the way down to his chest and up to his ears, so rosy and pink all for you. He shies away under your gaze, drops his head to his chin bashfully.

You grin, shuffle forward to turn those pretty eyes back towards you. “Messy little thing,” you tease, slotting your mouths together again. Jungkook moans this time, lazily kissing you back. His lips move in slow motion, trembling hands reaching for your face to cup, your name falling from his lips when you pull away slightly. “Need you to help me out now,” you murmur, hand on his jaw. “Can you do that, honey?” Jungkook nods hurriedly, eyes foggy and on your mouth. “Lay back.”

He does so, rushes to lay against the pillows until he’s flat on his back. You get to work on your clothes, shed your cardigan and languidly tug your top over your head in the way you know makes your breasts bounce. Beneath you, Jungkook whines at the sight. “You too,” you remind him, wiggling out of your jeans. At your instruction, he begins fumbling with his clothes, pants and underwear haphazardly thrown over the edge of the bed.

By the time you’re naked, you’re met with a rather amusing sight.

In his haste to take his clothing off, Jungkook seems to have gotten himself tangled in his long sleeves, shirt awkwardly bunched up around his wrists and twisted over some. You chuckle. “Help please,” he asks so politely, shaking his arms back and forth above his head. But you’re genuinely confused as to what he did, because one of the sleeves wraps around the other, pins the bulk of the fabric to his skin, and then the other wraps around that. A mess you don’t bother dissecting, simply climbing over him. He complains, of course, soft huffs you wave off.

“Don’t need them anyway,” you shrug, can’t help the lovesick look you send him when you brush his hair away for the umpteenth time. Jungkook leans into the touch sweetly, rosy cheek pressed against your palm. “Lemme see your pretty little tongue,” you order, pussy clenching when he does as told and rolls his tongue out for you, tip pressed against his bottom lip. “Good boy.”

A soft whimper, and then you’re shuffling over him, pretty doe eyes watching with amazement when you finally hover over his face. “For me?” he asks so softly, so sweetly.

It’s a question you’ve heard him utter countless times before in similar settings, always with a cocky grin and mean eyes, ready to send you to hell and back with his tongue or his cock. But it’s different now, big shiny eyes looking at you like you’re the greatest thing to ever happen in his life, so pliant and demure beneath your touch like he lived to serve you.

“All for you,” you assure him, get comfortable, and slowly lower your pussy over his face. His eyes flutter shut immediately, pink tongue ready for you by the time your dripping cunt nears his face.

You can’t help the moan that tears itself from your throat, a soft cry as he begins lapping against your folds. He’s so tender, so careful. It drives you crazy. Hands above his head squirming as you slowly grind your pussy over his face, more mindful than usual because he was so delicate tonight, like a baby bird that shivers with the simplest touch.

His tongue is smooth, circles around your clit. He nudges your bundle of nerves back and forth a few times, sends an initial wave of tingles down your spine, before taking it between puckered lips. His slurps it into his mouth, where it’s so hot and wet, it makes your grind stutter. “Oh,” you pant, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair. “P-Perfect,” you mumble.

The praise makes his features twist up cutely, mouth desperate to get more out of you. “You like that?” you gasp, holding his head still as he runs his tongue along your folds. Jungkook nods, eyes glazed over as he messily begins eating you out. “Like when I tell you you’re a good boy, Jungkookie?”

He lets out a broken whine, the vibrations shooting up your spine and making you shiver. Tongue pressed in at your entrance, prods gently like it’s his first time (it’s not) and he’s gauging your reactions. “Oh baby,” you shudder, fingers tightening in his curls.

He looks like an angel beneath you like this, halo of curls artfully splayed across the sheets, arms knotted above his head. Big pretty eyes that make you want to lay down and be his bitch instead, their power just so strong even when he’s whining and whimpering against your pussy like this. His tongue dips into your cunt, makes you buck against him by accident. “I’m sorry, angel,” you breathe, so caught up in your thoughts that the name just slips. It makes Jungkook’s cheeks flush a pretty pink, arms tug at their makeshift restraints. But his brain is scattered, torn between releasing himself, eating you out, and being shy.

He settles soon enough, ends up just sticking his tongue out flat for you to grind against, using the grip in his curls to drag your pussy over his face. His scalp feels warm, sweat clinging to his hairline. He sighs endearingly against you, and it’s that final puff of warm air against your folds that has you coming, cum dripping over his lips and chin sinfully.

When you finish, you quickly get off of him, lay down beside him. Jungkook is panting softly, tongue peeking out to taste the cum that splattered against the corner of his lips. “You were so good for me,” you praise, idly dragging your finger across his skin, collecting your cum on the tip.

Jungkook looks at you with a heavy gaze, knotted wrists slowly returning to rest over his abdomen. “Can you… Can you call me that again?” he asks hesitantly, so shy and polite.

“Hm?” you ask. “Angel?” His lips part, an awfully aroused look crossing his features. You smile, press your cum loaded finger against his lips and he opens, sucks around your finger and moans. “My pretty little angel,” you purr, slowly thrusting your finger in and out of his mouth. Before you can stop yourself, you’re leaning over to kiss him again, swallowing his cries in your desperate need to taste yourself on his tongue. Jungkook is more active this time around, daringly challenging your tongue with his before ultimately giving up, languidly following the pace you set for the kiss. You pull off with a pop, leave him dazed and trailing after your mouth cutely.

You pat his cheek once, offer him a tender smile, before moving to get up and clean up. Jungkook whines at your departure, and it’s only once you’ve sat up that you realize why.

Half hard cock at his hip, fattening slowly but surely. Instantly, it’s like the post-orgasm fatigue is yanked away, pussy throbbing at the sight of your angel and his cock, swelling from eating you out and kissing. He was too good to be true.

“Oh, you poor thing,” you sigh dramatically, shifting onto your knees at his hip to look at him. Something pokes your leg; it’s the stupid iPad playing his dorky YouTube videos that you click off and chuck to the other side of the bed. You had had enough of that by now.

He’s not at full mast yet, and he’s not getting there quick enough for your liking. So you take matters into your own hands. (Besides, what was stopping you tonight? Certainly not this soft, pliant Jungkook.)

Kneeling between his legs, you reach for the forgotten bottle of lube, squirt a fat glob into your hands, then decide that isn’t enough and squirt it directly onto your chest. Jungkook watches with wide eyes, lower lip caught between his teeth. “What— What’re you doing?” he stammers, can’t even sit up with his hands held together. “__, y-you don’t have—“

Squeezing your breasts together, you slip his cock between the crevice, watch as his angry head comes out on the other side so easily, so slippery. Oh, this was gonna be post-work, shower-time, spank bank material for months.

Jungkook sobs, loud and unfiltered at the sight, expression torn as he watches you slowly work your tightened breasts down his quickly hardening member. “T-Too much, too much,” he cries, squirming and bucking beneath you. “I-I’ll come—”

“Don’t,” you snap, stilling your moments to flick your eyes back to him. His head is rolled back, jaw strained, but when he manages to lift it up and look down at you, there’s tears that streak his cute face, trails that glisten when the lowlight of the lamp hits him just right. “Don’t fucking come yet, Jungkook.”

He sniffles weakly, more tears spilling from his eyes. “But I— it feels,” he blubbers, knotted hands reaching down for the base of his cock. You slap it away. “___, please,” he wails, face flushed from all his conflicting emotions.

Ignoring his cries, you get back to work, moving your upper body to and fro to simulate the thrusting motion he is too weak to do himself. He whimpers pitifully, more tears leaving his eyes when you lean down and spit on the head of his cock when it emerges next, make it join the rest of the ungodly fluids painting your chest. Honestly, you’re certain it’s that damned strawberry flavored, sensation warming, edible lube that makes this experience so enjoyable, so mind-blowing.

Jungkook seems to agree, stuttering out a messy whine. “Feels weird,” he snivels, only to be cut off when you release him from in between your tits. Immediately, he begins lamenting the loss.

Slowly, you ease him back in. You’re beginning to understand the intensity of that damned warming lube, because with each glide of his cock between your breasts, it’s like a tingle of nerves sparks within you, insides folding in on themselves as they channel all their energy to that one area of hastily spread lube. It feels so good and wet and messy, Jungkook’s whiny sniffles only fueling the experience. His cock twitches dangerously, and you flash him a glare. “Jungkook,” you warn.

“I’m sorry,” he weeps, thrashing back and forth as if that makes it any easier. “I just— I want,” he chokes, hips bucking into the suction you’ve created between your boobs. Tentatively, you stick your tongue out, let his tip brush against it on the next thrust. Jungkook curses, a feral groan escaping his lips. “Wanna fuck,” he seethes, “now.”

It’s but a slight peek into his regular personality, his normal mannerisms. But something about it now annoys you. In fact, it pisses you off, seeing him be so complacent and sweet just to try and overthrow you at the last second. And it’s with this same train of thought that you release him, climb over him like a crazed sex demon, and press your hand to his throat.

“You're supposed to be good,” you spit, scowl turned on him and it immediately has Jungkook drawing back with his tail tucked, falling into line as he should. “You’re supposed to be my angel tonight, remember?”

Jungkook nods, big round eyes looking at you like you’re insane, but the cock that presses against your ass tells you that he likes it. “I-I’m sorry,” he stutters, shrinking back into the mattress. Sticky hands around his throat, probably make him warm and tingly, but all you can think about is those pretty eyes. Sensing your wavering emotions, he takes advantage by tilting his chin forward for you cutely, pink lips trembling as he silently asks for a kiss.

You release him.

“Stupid angel,” you huff, mouth against his. “Gonna make me mad if you don’t act right,” you remind him, pushing his sweaty curls away from his face. He whimpers against your mouth, let’s you play with his hair as you calm down. He’s a blushing mess beneath you, every inch of him flushed and warm and sweaty.

You shift back and are met with his still rock hard member against your ass. You touch him appreciatively, reaching back to stroke him with a half-assed grip. It makes him moan nonetheless, pulling away from your lips to mewl against your shoulder. “Wanna fuck?” you hum, curling your hand over the tip like he likes, watching his head roll back against his pillow at the sensation. Jungkook groans, doesn’t seem to hear you now. You try again. “Wanna fuck my pussy, baby?”

“Yes,” he gasps this time, jolts when you press the tip of your finger against the slit on his head, plug his cock from releasing any more precum. “Please, please,” he begs, the hands on his chest straining against the shirt he still hasn’t managed to shake off.

One last kiss is delivered to him, a chaste one against his pout that makes him whine. “Whatever you want,” you purr, line him up.

Your hands are still sticky with the lube and so is his cock. Everything is sticky; his cock, you folds, your tits, his neck. It’s a big sticky, slippery mess, but you can’t even be annoyed because everything feels so good. Your tits tingle from whatever they put in that damn lube, nipples rock hard and extra swollen today, like if you don’t touch them you’ll die. You sink back into Jungkook’s throbbing cock, and the second his cock spreads the lube along your walls, you’re jolting because it just feels so damn good.

You can’t believe this is Jungkook’s preferred sick day treatment; YouTube, cuddles, and an ugly amount of lube.

His cock pushes past your folds, fits snugly inside of you just like it belongs. It still feels like the first time, feels like your first day where he was so perfect and sweet. Part of you wonders what would have become of you two if he had reacted like this that day, soft and whiny, when you first prepositioned him. Maybe the sexual aspect of your relationship would be entirely different today, maybe you’d be one the always leading.

But… you’re not sure if you’d want that. Leading is fun— hell, you’re certain this moment will be what you get engraved on your tombstone —but you were a pillow princess at heart with occasional dominant tendencies. You drool over this moment now, but if he asks for this again tomorrow you might actually bend over and die. It was a lot of work, keeping the energy going, and you find yourself having this newfound sense of respect for Jungkook as his cock slips past your folds.

Anyway, when you sit on his cock, fingers teasingly tightening around his throat, Jungkook’s eyes are weirdly focused on your tits. He’s been doing that a lot lately, losing his mind by just staring at your tits. On some occasions he puts them in his mouth, gets possessed by some titty loving monster and sucks on them until you’re trembling. It’s fine because it’s quite frankly a huge ego boost, but something him now makes you want to pick at him for it.

“They’re yours to taste, angel,” you hum, slowly rolling your hips over his fat cock. Jungkook whimpers, softly ruts up into your heat the next time you press down. “Tell me what you want,” you exhale, a breathy moan.

He doesn’t say anything, just drops his mouth open for you with a trembling lower lip. Tongue peeks out, eyes glazed over in his lust, looking every bit like those hentai ads he hates so much. But you fulfill his wishes, help him sit up until he’s flush against your chest. His awkwardly bound hands get squished in the middle, and he says, “m-my hands...”

“I’ve got you,” you soothe, undo his self-made restraints and toss them to the side. Immediately, he’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you flush against him to latch his lips around your breasts. “S-Slow down,” you whine, hands on his biceps as he sucks your tit into his mouth, twirls his tongue around your nipple. He’s good with his tongue even when he’s sick.

He pulls off with a pop, ragged breathing only making you more sensitive as it fans over the thin layer of saliva he leaves on your tits. “Tastes like strawberries,” he groans wondrously, head against your chest. You use the lull to get back to fucking yourself on him, but Jungkook’s got other plans. He rolls the two of you over, pins you beneath him with his hot and sweaty body. “I’m sorry,” he moans as he begins jackhammering his thrusts into you.

Your back arches, legs thrown around his waist as the sudden change of events. “Fffuck,” you heave, “harder, angel— gotta fuck like you mean it.”

Jungkook shudders, hands looped around the small of your back. His cock rams into you over and over, each glide of it against the walls of your pussy making you unravel in his arms. His lips latch around your other boob, suck and suck like he’s expecting something to come out.

That’s when it hits you.

“N-Nothing there,” you tell him, arms wrapped around his shoulders. His lashes are wet, eyes pinching tighter at your reminder. He pulls away almost to protest, but then you’re guiding him up to your face, hot breath mingling with yours. “Nothing there because you haven’t given me a baby yet,” you murmur darkly, watch the emotions flood his features as you tap into that taboo kink of his.

He chokes, grinds his cock into you and holds it there. “I-I didn’t,” he sniffs, “we never— you never said,” he whines, “...you wanted one.”

You cup his face in his hands, feel slightly mean for the pride you get from his tear stricken appearance. “I do,” you purr, lazily kissing him. “Want one if it’s from you. Don’t you?” He nods like an antsy puppy, quivering against you as he slowly and shallowly ruts into you. “Don’t you wanna see me like that, angel?” you egg on, hands looping behind his neck, idly playing with stray waves and curls. “Tummy so big and swollen because you did something bad, because you couldn’t pull out.”

Jungkook sobs, pulls you impossibly closer until the head of his cock is missing your cervix repeatedly. One of your legs is pressed nearly to your chest, hip tight from the force in which he holds you. “I-I want,” he agrees, more tears spilling down his cheeks.

You smirk evilly, kissing the corner of his mouth gently as he slowly picks up the pace of his thrusts. “Then fuck me hard, Jungkookie,” you demand, “fuck me full of your cum.”

Jungkook nods with a sniffle against your shoulder, fingers tightening against your skin as he slowly but surely begins nailing you into the mattress. He’s a good boy, always, because he does exactly what you tell him to. Uses those bulky muscles to hold you down, makes it impossible for you to move as he pistons his hips, cock sheathing itself inside your cunt.

Every drag makes you unconsciously clench, the raw feeling consuming your thoughts. His cock is so big and wet today, certainly due to that stupid lube from beneath his cabinet. Your entire pussy feels like it’s on ecstasy, stupidly geeked up by that lube, and you’re sure Jungkook’s cock feels the same. It makes the glide so much better, so much easier, each ram of his cock feeling so easy. “Oh, fuck,” you whimper, nails digging down his spine. Jungkook is a sobbing, sniffling mess against the crook of your neck, absolute gibberish falling from his lips.

But you’re no better, tongue seemingly set on a chaotic rampage to validate every single one of his fantasies. “Gonna fuck me while I’m pregnant?” you pant against his ear, fingers tugging at his hair. He doesn’t offer more than a strained cry, thrusts momentarily falling out of rhythm. “You would like that, huh? Fucking me when you’re not supposed to. You’re so bad, Kook-ah,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Only pretend to be an angel but really you’re just a dirty, little pervert.”

He wails loudly, slams his hips so hard into you that it makes you sob as well. “N-No,” he blubbers, tears against your skin. “I’m good— I’m a good boy,” he stresses, fingers bruising their prints into your skin.

He presses so close, cock practically making your stomach bulge, but neither of you see. “Dirty angel,” you spit, yank his hair back roughly until he’s forced to look at you with that watery gaze. “So horny you’re willing to get me pregnant.”

Jungkook cries out, snaps his cock into you like he’s trying to break you in half. “No,” he heaves, tears dripping down his cheeks and onto yours. “I-I-I’d do it right,” he defends weakly, hips losing their demonic pace as his orgasm sneaks up on him. “Ma— Marry first… then, b— ba— bab—“

You swallow his words with your lips, kiss him like you’re on the verge of death in a desperate attempt to hide your tears from him. They paint your cheeks in stark strokes, trail down your skin and make everything blurry, but so does your orgasm.

You come first, heart and body trembling at his unexpectedly sweet words, as you become a whimpering, teary mess beneath him. Jungkook follows, cries out your name one last time as he busts inside of you.

Sticky and gross, he falls onto the pillow beside you. Poor baby is so tired, curls covering half of his face, but lips cutely puckered against the pillow. He’s sweaty as hell though, which you now vaguely remember was your original goal with all of this so you count this as a success.

You think he’s fallen asleep, sitting up slowly and reaching for that t-shirt that bound him together earlier to clean up. He shudders when you run it against his skin, obviously still overwhelmed. You shift around the bed in search of today’s MVP. “Where’s the lube?” you mutter to yourself.

Jungkook groans. “YouTube?” he asks, voice dry as all hell.

“No, honey, the lube we used,” you respond, running your hands over the sheets for any signs of the pink bottle.

“Want YouTube,” he mumbles, lets you swaddle him up in the blanket again. You roll your eyes and reach for the forgotten iPad that had long since tumbled to the floor. When it turns on, that same video from before is on pause so you don’t bother changing it as you hand it back to Jungkook. “Nice,” he murmurs, “underground water slide.”

You snort. “Weirdo.” He glares cutely, eyes barely open at this point. “Watch your YouTube.”

“Use your lube,” he sasses back softly, nonsensically, and then rather anticlimactically passes out.

There’s something soft in your chest, something so big and overwhelming, that has you bending over his sleeping figure, mouth brushing against his. “Hurry and get better, angel,” you whisper, wish on it with all your heart.

To no one’s surprise, you get sick two days later. Doyeon laughs and laughs for hours about it, tells you that’s what you get for using sex as medicine. But Jungkook’s back to normal, which means he stays over and coddles you to death.

“Hurry and get better,” he says, spoon feeding you your famous Get Better Soon Soup that you passed on to him. “I have a question to ask you.”

There’s a little black box in his downstairs bathroom cabinet that you swear you’ve never seen, but Jungkook knows you’re lying.

It fits perfectly.

epilogue

She scoffs. “And I care why?” You huff, go to scold her for their weird rivalry, but then she’s moving on. “Babe, just give him some pain relief and call it a day.”

“Fine,” you mumble. “Wait, can you look something else up for me?”

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