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#i really need to rethink how i sign my pieces
knowthenationyoukeep · 10 months
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i drew the babygirls
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dipolardruid · 1 year
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your Yandere content is something I look forward to, they’re so good!
I have a request if that is fine?
reader’s father got full custody of Y/N when they were very little, and never got to see their bio mom. This made reader resentful and view bio mom as a selfish deadbeat. Which is why they latched onto betra when she entered their life. Years after, Bio mom goes to court for 50/50 custody which ends up happening. But reader despises her and does not hide it, and one day even asks bio mom to sign away her right so that betra could adopt them.
I am just convinced at this point y'all just love seeing Betra and Bio-Mom duking it out.
TW: Unhealthy Platonic relationship, Slight manipulation against reader.
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"No." Is all you hear before you see her pause the movie she's watching as she stabds up "I'm not sure what's gotten into you or what she and your father have been putting into your head but I'm not signing any of my rights away."
She walks towards you "you are my child not hers, for six long years I waited to be able to talk and hold you to be able to regain a relationship with you again." She pauses for a quick moment before continuing "but couldn't because your father refused to let me even be near you." Her breathing starts to speed up.
"It's hard to believe that when you couldn't even send a simple card or even a small message saying hi...all you did was leave!" You begin to feel your eyes water but fight it.
As your mother goes to respond you keep going "I still remember waiting by the door waiting for you to come back having three small bowls of snacks you and dad would eat with me as we watched my favorite movie but I was always left disappointed...and the times I even did hear about you were when i'd hear my dad crying on phone to my aunt about you." You finally stop to take a breath.
"While you left me behind always having me wonder what was so wrong about me Betra was there, she never left even when I would ignore her existence when I felt as if she just wanted to replace you, when all I thought about was how she was taking dad away when I would push her away thinking she'd end up leaving to, she never did...." your shoulders begin to shake as you continue fighting the urge to cry.
Seeing this your mother goes to comfort you "I'm so sorry I really am, I'm trying to make it up to you for what I did please believe me when I say that's all I want nothing else."
"If you are as apologetic as you say you are just sign your rights away and let Betra adopt me already." At this your mother doesn't say anything and stays silent staring blankly at the wall behind you not acknowledging you as try to get you attention "we both need to cool down let's both just take some time to ourselves..." she says in a winded before heading into her room.
Seeing this you head to your room closing the door behind you as you start to rethink everything you said to her feeling guilt at seeing her reaction to your statements.
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The moment your mother hears your room door close she immediately starts destroying and throwing things she can reach not leaving nothing untouched but your pictures.
She only stops when she is too out of breath to continue going on all fours gripping at a piece of frabric in anger.
"You bastard...it's all your fault if you hadn't brought that damn woman into your life...this wouldn't have happened." She mutters under her breath roughly her jaw clenching so hard her teeth hurt from the pressure "I'm losing you....I can't losing you...she needs to go...she HAS to go..." your mothers mutterings becoming repetitive.
Your mother sits up her legs under her the tip of her thumb in her mouth biting it so hard she draws blood "yeah...she has to go...." At this your mother stands up making sure her room door is closed heading towards your room knocking on your door.
"I'm having some food delivered it's already paid for so just be sure to get it." Once she says this she quickly grabs her car keys and head on out.
You watch through your room window as she pulls out of the drive way driving so fast you hear the tires of car scrapping against the road.
You don't see your mom until the next day when you leave your room seeing her pacing, she stops upon seeing you "Hey are you hungry? Want some take out?" She asks "No Betra or dad should be picking me up in a little." You see her jaw clench at you saying that.
"About that I'll explain about what's happening as of now but come on let's go out to eat for now."
Throughout the day your mother seemed to keep you busy that you even failed to realize the normal time your father or Betra pick you up past but the weirder part was when you didn't receive not even a single message it wouldn't until you both got back home that she'd finally sit you down.
"You're going to be staying with me as of now there was an incident with your dad and his wife." She says watching as your face switches from curiosity to confusion.
"Why?" You look at your mother completely confused "They've both been arrested." You feel a heavy weight drop down into your stomach feeling bile go up to your throat.
She was vague in her answers but all she said through out all of it is that as of now you will be sticking with her until everything is done with.
"As of now you and I are all we truly have remember that go on and take a breather I'll be here if you need anything."
Once your mother ensured you were in your room she couldn't help but smile trying her best to hold in her laugh "He has no one but himself to blame for this." Perhaps this could be a lesson learned on his part if he's smart he'll be able to figure out who was behind all this.
At least now she has you to herself while temporary this is all she needs to finally break through your walls while you're vulnerable to be able to be the only mother in your eyes, she knows all your pain will be worth it in the end.
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Request are open!
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Drafting The Adventure: Hitting a Wall
I know the signs before I really start to feel them, I start trawling through my notes looking for validation, I find it hard to concentrate on anything even if it’s pure entertainment, my thoughts become slippery and recursive as I think through the same few phrases or sensations on loop.
By the time I realize that I’ve hit a creative block I’ve usually been spinning my wheels for two or three days, letting everything else in life distract me from the fact that I haven’t put words on the page or made progress on one of my current projects. Then I feel guilty for not being productive and angrily stare at a blank page for the remainder of my freetime slowly making myself worse, and still getting nothing done.
It’s a cycle that I’ve been fighting for years, and one of the predominant sources of despair in my early life once my brain had associated creative accomplishment with self worth. I now know mostly that I’m not any better or worse a person because of my rate of output, but that doesn’t change the fact that I really LIKE the feeling of being creative and clever and creative blocks stand in the way of that feeling.
Lets use my most recent block as an example: I wanted to write a player home type adventure prompt where after doing a solid for the local nobility the heroes are suddenly bestowed with a knighthood and a keep overlooking the town they’d been adventuring out of. I found a really solid piece of art that captured the mood I wanted for the prompt ( sometimes the hardest part of running this blog) but when it came to actually detailing ideas for what the castle was like my brain just sort of... stopped. Sure I had a couple of ideas but they didn’t really form into anything actionable, and those concepts that managed to make it into the page were long, rambling, and frankly uninteresting.
I’d hit a wall, and it wasn’t until I was honest with myself that I had an actual problem that I could start doing something about it. Lets look at some of my solutions:
Back to the Drawing Board: While I’ve now spent several years attempting to surmount my creative blocks, it’s only recently that I’ve come to realize that blocks occur not because I’ve just run out of creative juice/have gotten stupider/angered my muse, but because I’ve committed to a flawed idea and I need to back up and plot a new way to act on my inspiration.  if I’m having problems finishing a sentence, I go back to the start of the paragraph, if I’m having trouble with a paragraph I go back to the start of the whole document, If I’m having trouble with the idea, I go back to what made me think that Idea was going to be fun in the first place.
Recognize the learning opportunity when it hits you in the face: No one is born inherently creative, it’s a process of refining your skills over time so when you encounter challenges in the future, you’ve already developed the tools needed to overcome them. Each problem then becomes an opportunity to improve, until you can gladly flaunt the things that would have stopped a younger version of yourself dead in their tracks. In this instance, figuring out how my creative blocks affect my brain will not only let me avoid them in the future, but get past them when I inevitably make a misstep.
Give your brain something else to chew on: I was already half way through thinking “maybe I should analyze why I run into walls and how I get out of them so I can implement that strategy on a wider scale” when I realized I was drafting this post in my head. Making it has not only helped me formalize a few strategies I’m going to use going further, but given me enough distance from the project that was stonewalling me that I can begin to rethink it, rather than try to “solve” what I’d already put down.
Why isn’t this working?: I’ve asked myself this question many times when I feel like I’ve run into a creative dead end, but it wasn’t until this most recent hurdle that I realized I’d never defined what “working” meant. comparing this prompt against several others that HAD worked made me realize that when I’d given the party a place to stay, I’d always paired that with a significant quest that came before/after, which I neglected to do for this particular prompt because it was already intended as a followup.  Using the fort as a launching point for a new story is going to give me all the inspiration I need.
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majaurukalo · 14 days
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We should really rethink the phrasing “being a burden”. And I don’t mean in a sweet-flowery way/soft talking to hide a harsh reality like “no, you are not a burden. You just have different needs”.
Because we are a burden. All human beings.
We are a burden on the planet and the ecosystem, for starters.
And we are a burden on one another.
Unless you live alone on an island and grow your own food and build your own stuff then you are a burden to someone or something in order to have your needs met.
We all take up space and time and energy from someone else.
That’s how we can survive as a society, as a community of people who live in interdependency with one another.
You need to buy food so you go to a supermarket who someone else put up so it can be easier for you to have access to food and someone else has made possible for you to have your salad or your bacon or your apple.
You live in a house that someone else built for you.
You enjoy a piece of art that someone else created for your enjoyment.
We rely on other people for food, housing, clothing, even entertainment.
And some of us rely on other people for showering, eating, going out, etc..
The Western society teaches that only through self-achievement and personal labour we are valuable and worthy of praise. That’s a toxic mindset that we must unlearn because it’s bound to fail in the long run.
Even our dreams and goals can only happen if we rely on someone else’s work, time and effort.
You want to be a singer? So you write a song. Sure, this comes out from your own effort and talent but then you need to publish it so you go on Bandcamp or Soundcloud. But those platforms exist because someone else built them. Then there are people, your audience, who listen to your song and share it. You rely on them. A record label signs you? That’s other people you are relying on to make your dream come true.
Nothing in this World is achievable through individualism and single effort.
At the end of the day we are tired from all this interdependencing but we also feel more connected and satisfied and even wiser.
Once we understand this we can see as a total “normal” thing the reliance on someone else for the completion of daily tasks.
The “I’d kill myself if I had to have my ass cleaned by someone else” will become nonsense.
And you can tell me that doing music is not like wiping someone else’s ass but both things are products of human labour and we all should learn to put aside our egos and be more humble and compassionate.
And since we all can end up having to have our asses be wiped by someone else maybe you can change your attitude as a gift to yourself. Or someone you love.
(Or maybe I’m just naive. I don’t know. I wish there was more empathy and connection among humans instead od selfishness and egotism).
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potatotomatopomato · 1 year
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Fuck NT culture. (Not being NT, but the assumption that everyone can, and should, perform the same way as an NT does in every sphere of life.)
Why does being ND have to be so stigmatized? It goes to the point where some of us who can live independently but still need accommodations refuse to get themselves or their children a diagnosis.
My sister's teacher told my mother she displays signs of ADHD. During dinner, she told her the following line:
"I don't think you have ADHD, I also struggle with focusing on things that disinterest me, but I can focus on something I like for HOURS in a row. You know what I would do when I lost focus in class? I would take a piece of paper and roll it and unroll it over and over. It really helped!"
Wait... did she just describe hyperfocusing and stimming?
Now that I rethink about it, it's jarring how little we learn about neurodiversity in our current education system beyond extreme cases.
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Fall out of love
Succubus jinx x gn!reader
Summary: y/n was feeling lonely so they decided to do the only thing they could think of to feel better. Summon a demon.
A/n: thought this concept was cute so I went with it. Thanks for the support @eternal-armin 💖💗💓😊
CW: fluff, talks of witchcraft I guess, mild swearing (no f-bombs), Talks of sexual activity.
Jinx had been doing this gig for years. Being a succubus was far from an easy job, but damn was she good at it.
She'd gotten used to the usual summonings, guys who wanted a cheap thrill, teenagers who were curious in more ways than one, and the odd cultist. But she never expected you.
She'd been pulled out of hell for the millionth time and expected the usual request, so she prepared the usual greeting.
"greetings mortal, how may I be of service to you this evening?"
You just stared up at her with the dopiest grin on your face. You'd done it, you actually summoned a demon. Feeling rather proud of yourself, for a moment you forget that there is a literal hell spawn floating in the middle of your living room.
"ahem, um hello, succubus waiting for orders over here." She said sounding kind of annoyed. "Oh sorry, I got kind of excited. I've never done this before." You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
"yeah yeah, I get it first time summoning a demon, I've seen it before. So you gonna give me a command or am I gonna have to guess whatcha thinkin?" You get a bit shy for a second. " Well I was feeling kind of lonely, s-so I was hoping we could like...hang out or something."
She just stared at you completely confused as to what you just requested of her. "Hang out? like just- sit around and talk or somethin? or do mean the other kind of hanging out?"
"What other kind of hanging out?" You asked, feeling confused yourself. She responded by simply making an ok sign in one hand and putting her finger through the circle. "WHA- no none of that!! I just meant like watching TV and laying on the couch and stuff!!" You answered frantically feeling rather flustered.
"oh, ok um sure I guess." Jinx had never been asked to do something like this, at least not without a double meaning to it. She floated over to the, admittedly comfy looking, couch and plopped down on it. It was just as comfy as it looked.
"so like, whatta we watchin?" She asked still slightly confused about the situation.
"I was thinking about watching this show my friend suggested to me, sound good?" "Uhh yeah sure. Y'know I can do more than just hangout with you right, like you could ask me to do anything and Id do it." She said thinking they'd rethink the "hang out"
"oh, no I'm not really about that stuff, I was just feeling really lonely and had no one to hang out with since all my friends were busy. Though summoning a demon seems like a crazy solution in hindsight."
Jinxed was stunned. This person really didn't wanna do the usual devil's tango, he really did just wanna hang out and she didn't really know how to feel about it.
"oh, um ok, that's cool I guess...SO, why don't we start the show."
The two proceeded to marathon the show, thoroughly enjoying themselves, even the still confused jinx.
After a few hours it was late the contract binding jinx was running low on time. "Thanks for watching this with me, it was nice having someone around." Jinx felt her cheeks burn as y/n smiled at her, she'd never been thanked before either, what's with this person. "Um, no problem, but as per the contract I kinda need your soul."
"oh right, my soul." Y/n stared at the floor feeling down. Who wouldn't after being told your soul was being taken. Jinx for once actually felt bad for taking someone's soul. Then she got an idea
"Well, I don't technically have to take all of your soul since you didn't ask for that much, so a small piece should do." She said rubbing the back of her head.
Your face brightened up immediately. "Wait really, wow that's a relief thanks." You said again, making jinx's cheeks turn a shade of red. "Whatever... y'know if you want to pay me back you could summon me again, and we could watch more of that show."
Y/n simply stared at the shy look she gave them. It was so cute.
"I'd love to."
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mc-lukanette · 3 years
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Omg I am loving your dreaded string of fate au this is such an interesting take! As always your writing and ideas absolutely amaze me You are such a wonderful writer! If it isnt too much of a bother could we get some more writing for dsaf? Either way I hope you are staying safe, taking care of yourself, and that overall life is doing you good.
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Thanks, everyone! And sure, you can have more!!
—————
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
Luka wasn't sure why Marinette had called him over that day. As far as he knew, she was busy with projects, though he wouldn't complain about spending some time with her.
Still, he found himself tensing and steeling himself up as he walked up the stairs to her living room. The hum of her sewing machine could be heard as he got closer, reminding him of clothes, which led to the thought of thread, which then brought his mind to the red string of fate wrapped around her neck. His last venture as Viperion seemed to have improved his sensing, so now he could see someone's red string even if the person on the other end wasn't nearby.
Needless to say, he wasn't looking forward to it with Marinette.
He closed the living room door behind him, then went up the staircase, knocking to let Marinette know he was there. The sound of the sewing machine stopped, and he heard her footsteps come closer followed by the slight creak of the trapdoor.
Marinette's face was revealed to him, offering him a smile, and Luka tried not to stare too much at the red string still tied around her neck. He swallowed, but smiled back at her, which was genuine enough even if he was uncomfortable.
"Come on up," she welcomed, holding the trapdoor up for him. He nodded and walked up the rest of the stairs, hearing the trapdoor close behind him as he took a look around the room. He felt Marinette's eyes on him, but she voiced her thoughts before he could wonder about them.
"You didn't bring your guitar?" she asked.
He glanced at his back, then at her, having no way of telling her the real reason why he'd chosen not to bring it. "Yeah, I didn't. Sorry, did you want me to play for you?"
"Oh! No, it's okay—I mean, of course I love it when you play for me so I always want—but I understand!" She thankfully dropped the subject there, turning away to return to her seat. "You can make yourself at home or help yourself to the fridge downstairs if you want anything!"
"Thanks," he said with a smile, heading over to her chaise lounge and taking a seat on it. Even with Marinette's chair turned away from him while she used her sewing machine, he could still see the red string dangling off the side, though it faded into full transparency before it hit the floor.
In truth, he'd left his guitar behind to force himself to use less music and more words. He didn't want to hide behind it to try and ease his situation or make himself more comfortable with everything. The situation the love of his life - and more importantly, his friend - had gotten into through no fault of her own was horrible, and no matter how uncomfortable he was, he couldn't have been any more uncomfortable than her being strangled by fate itself.
He watched her, waiting for a lull in her work to ask, "Did you need anything?"
"Hm?" She looked over her chair to meet his gaze.
"I'm happy to be here anyway, but I didn't know if you needed me for something," he clarified.
"Oh." She understood. Waving a hand dismissively, she assured, "No! I just invited you here to hang out—" She gestured to her sewing machine, her eyes a bit shifty. "—with me, while I was busy but totally happy and relaxed and everything!"
Her wording was inherently suspicious. His eyes scanned over the room, noting the projects littered about that seemed so plentiful. He supposed he hadn't exactly been subtle in his concern for her, but he wasn't sure of exactly what tipped her off or made her feel like she had to "prove" her happiness to him.
Besides, he knew better, and he knew her. Even with the smile she gave him, her brows were furrowed and twitching, a tiredness to her eyes that definitely didn't show what he would call "happiness."
He gave her a nod anyway, not wanting to call her out when he was still piecing things together himself, and he didn't want to confirm her worries if she was merely suspecting that he felt that way.
He leaned back while she returned to working, his hand on the cushion underneath him as he considered what to say. If Sass was right in his beliefs, then Luka indeed had the power to change Marinette's fate, though there wasn't any specific method of how. He thought back to all of their conversations, wondering what he would've done differently if he'd known beforehand and trying not to get bogged down by "what if"s or blame himself for it.
He stared silently at the back of Marinette's head, remembering the day at the ice rink when he saw the same thing. She'd been running away, or more specifically running towards Adrien after he'd encouraged her to do so. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but from what he gathered from interactions he'd either seen or heard about, it hadn't gone anywhere. Maybe it hadn't even gone well at all.
Maybe he'd made a mistake?
Luka's mind grew heavy with the thoughts, his body falling back to lay down on Marinette's chaise. He didn't regret doing what he felt was right, but now he wondered if his wording could've been better.
"You should probably go over and talk to him."
He hadn't exactly been thinking at the time - a lot had happened that day - but he noted that he could've asked her how she felt. He could've questioned her on if she really wanted to go after Adrien. It was possible she'd wanted to go home on the subway with him, but was convinced to chase Adrien when he brought it up. Luka just imagined Marinette seeing Adrien and Kagami together, the red string tightening around her neck and then loosening when she was presented with the prospect of going after him.
He felt like he was the one being strangled, just thinking about it.
"Luka?"
He looked up, surprised, seeing that Marinette had stopped sewing at some point and had come to sit on the chaise lounge with him. She hovered over him, concern written across her features and the red string taunting him with its mere existence. Luka knew by now that she was very worried about him, and trying to wriggle or half-lie out of it wasn't going to convince her. He'd just really thought that she would've been sewing for longer.
He also jolted up into a sitting position upon realizing that he probably looked like he was making himself too comfy on her chaise lounge. She didn't seem to mind at least.
"...Marinette," he said slowly, trying to put his thoughts in order. She leaned closer as a sign that she was giving him her attention, and he continued, "Do you know why I let you go that day?"
She tilted her head and he belatedly caught that he hadn't been specific, still too lost in his own head. He opened his mouth to clarify, but realization struck Marinette before he could speak, her brows raising in recognition.
"Oh!" she gasped. Though the conversation was sudden, she didn't seem to mind rolling with it. "Um, yeah, I wondered about that sometimes. I mean, I knew that you knew that I—but I didn't know that you—but if you didn't back then, I—"
"No, your song was definitely in my head, even back then," he confirmed casually, smiling as he added, "Since the day we met, remember?"
She blushed at the mention of his confession, but nodded. "Y-yeah." Then, seeming to rethink the moment with that information in mind, she asked, "...Why did you let me go then?"
His eyes flickered to the red string, then back up to her face. "I want you to be happy, Marinette, no matter who it's with. I thought that Adrien would do that, but I hope I didn't make you feel like you had to go after him."
She blinked, the thought having seemingly not even occurred to her. She averted her gaze, her eyes darting around at nothing in particular. "Is...is that why you were looking like that?"
He didn't answer, but that was answer enough for her.
"Oh, Luka," she murmured sympathetically. "I—well—" She shifted uncomfortably. "—I shouldn't be talking to you about this. It'd be wrong when my feelings are so messed up. You..."
He shook his head. "You can talk about Adrien if you want. I'd be happy if you relied on me more."
He meant it. Even regardless of his fate sensing, he wanted Marinette to feel comfortable talking to him, even if it was about her love problems. He didn't want their relationship to be changed because of his feelings for her.
"Even more?" She raised a brow, the concept confusing her, but she didn't question him further. She hesitated, rubbing her cheek in thought, then dropped her hands to her lap and twiddled her fingers. "I-I don't know; about Adrien, I mean. I—" She sighed, giving a halfhearted shrug. "—he's not interested in me. He likes Kagami, but the girls kept telling me that I shouldn't give up on him because of how hard I tried." Then, stiffening, she waved her hands and rapidly assured, "N-not anything against your sister, of course! That's just what happened—and—" She huffed in frustration. "—it feels like I hit a wall, and I'm not going anywhere. Adrien doesn't notice me and I can't talk to him and... I'm tired."
Luka nodded silently to let her know that he was both listening and sympathetic towards her plight, also not wanting to interrupt her.
"Of course I tried hard, but Adrien and Kagami seem like they're good for each other and they should be happy together. Just, whenever I think of giving up or not trying, I..." She raised a hand to her neck in a gesture that he immediately understood. "It hurts, and Alya's always trying to get me together with Adrien no matter what I say. Maybe she knows best and maybe she's right, and that's why I always end up in crazy situations with him. Plus, everyone..." She looked away, her voice not having the enthusiasm one would imagine her next words would go with. "...everyone keeps saying we're made for each other."
Luka clutched his leg to ground himself while struggling to keep a straight face. He'd certainly never heard that one before, but it stung like his neck did just thinking about it. His lips pressed together, trying to contain his emotions, but he couldn't help blurting out, "No one's made for anyone."
She blinked at him, shocked, but he didn't take it back or apologize for saying it so suddenly. He recognized the fact that he was talking about destined love being nonexistent when he himself knew that "fate" was very much a real thing, but his actual opinion on the subject hadn't changed. As far as he was concerned, fate's "opinion" was about as valid as anyone else's when it came to someone else's relationship.
"No matter what Alya, or even Rose, say about you and who you love, Marinette, all that matters is you and who you want to play for. You deserve someone who makes you happy." He paused, lamenting the reality that she really hadn't gotten to think about it. "Does Adrien make you happy?"
He saw the string tighten, Marinette opening her mouth to respond before she seemed to stop herself. He felt like apologizing, but knew she wouldn't understand even if he did. She frowned, staring down at her lap and appearing conflicted with herself, so he reached out and carefully hovered his hand over her shoulder in a show of comfort. She glanced at his hand, noticing the gesture, but didn't immediately give him any sort of permission.
Then, to his surprise, she brought her hand up, gently grabbing his wrist and lowering it so his hand was placed perfectly on her shoulder. She didn't even let go, keeping his wrist held like she needed his hand there.
"...Luka," she whispered, her voice shaking, "I—no, you'll laugh, or think I'm crazy."
He squeezed her shoulder, not hesitating to insist, "I won't. I'm here for you, Marinette."
She finally met his gaze, and he saw a vulnerability there that wasn't there before. She was nervous, whether of his potential reaction to whatever she had to say, or something else entirely.
She took a breath, her fingers tightening around his wrist as she composed herself. The silence stretched, though he could tell that she was steeling herself up.
"The—the Adrien pictures," she began, tossing a pointed look to the wall where they were. "I don't remember putting them there."
He kept his expression schooled, not wanting her to overthink his reactions. Careful and quiet, he asked, "What do you mean?"
"I-I mean, obviously I started putting them there, back when I first met him," she admitted, "but I took them down. They'd been down for a while."
Luka could confirm that. He'd been to Marinette's room before when she'd been sending in their Kitty Section audition to Bob Roth, and the pictures weren’t there.
She continued, "I-it hurt when I did it, but I did, and I threw most of them away. But then—when I wake up sometimes, they're back, and I don't remember putting them up. I-I mean, maybe I did but I just don't remember it? I stay up late sometimes and I won't remember falling asleep, so it might be like that, you know? I-I know you're not exactly like me and I'm sure you don't sleepily put pictures on your wall but..."
He smiled as best as he could, even though he was hurting inside. "I know as well as you do that creativity doesn't have a schedule."
She managed a smile in return, but it returned to a frown as she dropped her gaze to her lap. "A-anyway, I can forget things, but it's never been that bad, and sometimes they'll be gone for a while but then they'll be back a few days later. There's just—there's no other explanation, so it has to be me, right? I-I don't know if it's a sign or what, but if it is then I don't know what it's telling me? Because whenever there are a lot of pictures—" She made a vague gesture with a wave of her free hand, cringing as she added, "—something humiliating always happens. That usually gets me to take them down again, but then... well, you know." She rubbed the back of her neck with a hand, blushing in embarrassment. "Sorry, I probably sound crazy. I-I swear, I'm not trying to—"
"I believe you."
Her mouth halted mid-sentence, hanging open as she stared at him.
"I believe you, Marinette," he repeated, giving her shoulder another squeeze. He didn't need any further detail to know what happened, as there was no way Marinette would take down those pictures and then put them back up the next day, or even the day before that. It didn't make any sense, and while he hadn't seen the wisps of fate move things or brush them aside, he had seen them trip Marinette, meaning they had some level of physical control. It explained it all: the convenience of the pictures appearing and disappearing, as well as the amount of them there'd be.
"T-thank you," she murmured, her lips briefly moving to form extra words but nothing coming out. She looked shy, possibly from admitting something she hadn't told anyone before, but she at least wasn't so nervous anymore.
"You don't need to thank me," he assured, "but you're welcome. Just know that you can tell me anything."
She ducked her head, peeking up at him to ask, "How much do you want to know?"
"Whatever you're comfortable sharing with me," he replied.
"Everything?" She'd said it quickly, as if she'd blurted it out, but she didn't panic afterward. She merely looked at him, hope in her eyes.
He nodded without hesitation, wanting her to be certain that he meant it. She searched his gaze for a few more seconds, one last shred of doubt remaining, but he knew he'd convinced her when her body relaxed and she smiled at him with her whole heart. Her grip on his wrist lightened, her hand sliding off and back down to her side. He pulled back as well, his heart a mixture of emotions but mostly just happy to see her happy.
"I..." She turned away, facing her trapdoor. "I'm going to get some snacks first."
He watched as she pushed herself up, then stood as well to follow after her. "Do you want any help carrying them?"
She looked at him, confused. "You don't have to."
Instead of responding with the obvious - that he wanted to - he simply replied, "You're not alone anymore, Marinette."
He didn't need to elaborate for her to understand. He let himself get lost in the warmth of her gaze, hoping that he might see it more one day if he could ever get her string removed, even if her warm gaze would end up being for someone else.
496 notes · View notes
glowingbadger · 3 years
Note
Hi it’s me, crawling through the window. Would it be possible to get a crumb of arranged marriage w/ Hubert? His line w/ Dorothea about being willing to get married for politics sake has fueled my brain rot for him.
Good God I need to secure my windows-
I mean HELLO FRIEND ANON YES IT WOULD BE MY PLEASURE
Lol actually though, I have been thinking about this for Hubie since we all started chatting about that arranged marriage stuff! I think it's a perfect concept for him~
This like... got weird while I was writing it though?? Idk man hahaha it ended up on the less-spicy side of what I usually write, and with some very weird dialogue in places... Idk, I hope y'all like it. Maybe if there's interest, I'll follow this up eventually with a more smut-focused piece?
I've been traveling and working so much lately that I just don't even know what writing is anymore or how it works hahaha
TW: A brief mention of non-con
Hubert (FE3H) x Reader ("wife," neutral pronouns)
Arranged Marriage - semi spicy i guess?
"Frankly, he's a pain," Linhardt must be able to see your surprise and confusion written across your face. He goes on, "He's reliable and capable, of course, but also the most persistent nag you'll ever meet. Actually, no-" he glances upward as though to cross reference his own thoughts, "No, her Majesty is worse. But Hubert is a close second to be sure. Always on and on about sleep schedules and proper nutrition and etiquette..." He sighs and closes the massive tome on his lap, as though to close the conversation with it, "frankly, he's an insufferable mother hen. Does that help?"
"Well, it's... Not what I expected," you admit with a shrug, "but thank you all the same."
~
It's been several weeks since the papers binding you in marriage to Hubert Von Vestra had been signed- and this alone had sufficed. No ceremony, no grand ball, just paperwork and a handshake with your father. A handshake that ensured that, even under the Empire's unification, he would maintain nominal control over his considerable portion of land, and in return, would swear absolute loyalty to her Majesty. It was a beneficial arrangement for all parties, and you were not ignorant to the part you played. You were hardly even a bargaining chip- moreso, a hostage.
Your new husband had made no secret of what manner of harm may befall you if your family were to renege on their deal. Fortunately, you know your father to be a reliable coward, so you have no reason to believe he would be bold enough to step out of line.
Hubert Von Vestra is a terrifying man. A zealously loyal man of storied cruelty and a frigid disposition. His frame looms over you whenever he's near, and though he's hardly placed a finger on you since you'd been given over to him, his mere presence is... arresting. There's a sort of charisma to him that's equal parts frightening and fascinating. Perhaps it's madness brought on by your circumstances, but you can't help wanting to glimpse just the slightest bit into that brilliant, ever churning mind.
Unsurprisingly, he has been resistant to your attempts to understand him. He hardly indulges you in small talk, and if you were the paranoid sort, you'd think he intentionally makes himself busy when you're around. Eventually, perhaps out of sheer stubbornness, you'd settled on a routine of bringing coffee to his study adjoined to your bedroom in the evenings. He'd been visibly surprised the first time. It wasn't until the fourth night that he'd given a curt "thank you." About two weeks in, he'd actually sat back in his chair and laid down his quill pen to receive the cup from your hands. After a month, he'd leveled his narrow gaze at you and said,
"I cannot begin to fathom what satisfaction you glean from playing 'maid' to me."
"Well, I, uhm," you hadn't expected him to address you so directly, but you managed to say, "You... work so hard, I wanted to do something for you, I suppose."
His expression is inscrutable as he replies,
"You are aware that my work was much the same before you arrived."
"I am," you say softly, "But- all the same..." you trail off, and Hubert seems content to let the matter rest. And so you leave him be amidst his reports and correspondence, coffee at his side on the desk. Yet for as unproductive as your exchange might have seemed, it does leave you with an idea. The thought to learn about the man from those who knew him long before your arrival at the capitol.
~
Your investigation into the true character of your husband does not stop with Linhardt. In fact, his testimony only leaves you with further questions. But perhaps the others would say otherwise; perhaps the United Empire's most up and coming crest scholar simply inspires maternal behavior. This has to be the case- you simply can't imagine that the notoriously ruthless heir of the even more notorious Vestra lineage would be so... Doting.
And yet the more you learn of him, the more contradictory he seems.
Caspar's take is much like Linhardt's- a picture of a man far closer to a school marm than any assassin or master of torture. Ferdinand seems both smitten and incensed by him, oscillating wildly between the two. Then eventually, to your shock, Bernadetta takes the initiative to speak to you about Hubert of her own accord.
"I'm, uh, really so-sorry to bother you!" she approaches with arms drawn close to her chest and eyes resolutely avoiding yours, "I- I just heard that you were... asking about Hubert, so, I, uh..."
It takes some time to prompt her further. You assure her again and again- no, this isn't intrusive at all- yes, you'd very much like to hear her perspective- no, you're not mad at her. In truth, you're endlessly intrigued about what a gentle soul like Bernadetta would have to say about a man feared across the continent. Finally, she manages,
"He's... actually really kind!" she blurts out, as though the words would abandon her if she gave them the window of opportunity. Your eyebrows raise slightly.
"You think so..?"
"Yes, completely-!" she stammers, "I know he's super, super scary, and powerful and spooky and cold and, uh, all of that. But still," her voice falters as she continues, "He only scolds people when they do something dangerous. And he only hurts people to protect others. I... I know he's done some te-terrible things. But... he's always been nice to Bernie," finally, she meets your eyes with an imploring look in hers, "So, uh, I'm really grateful to him. And I think it would be really nice for someone to reach out to him. If... if that's not too weird or anything. For you."
You smile warmly and nod,
"Thank you, Bernadetta. I know it can't be easy for you to come to me with all of this, but... I'd like to try, if I can."
The opportunity doesn't come in the way you expect.
At first, it seems the night will proceed like many others before. You bring a cup of coffee to your husband's desk, setting it down quietly so as to not disturb him. He's silent, but this is common enough, so you head back to the bedroom to undress for the evening. All nights prior, he would lay beside you long after you'd settled in, then rise to resume work in the morning before you woke up- all the while never allowing your bodies to interact in any way.
Tonight, just as you're about to close the door to Hubert's study behind you, long fingers catch around your wrist, visibly startling you.
It's the most physical contact you've had to-date, but he only says,
"One moment."
You whip around to face him, a touch of anxiety evident in your eyes. It's clear in his own that he notices, but if anything, he only seems amused. He steps forward, his taller frame menacing you as he speaks,
"I understand that you have been busying yourself with some manner of investigation as of late."
It takes a moment for his meaning to reach you. When it does, your face burns and you can't bring yourself to meet his scrutinizing gaze,
"Oh, uhm..."
"I assure you, my dearest wife," he says with barely concealed venom, "anything that I do not wish for you to know will be kept from you. Aside from which, your efforts thus far have proven amateurish at best."
Something seems off about his tone. You could understand if he felt uncomfortable or hesitant about your efforts to learn about him, but this seems far more grave, more... business-like. He steps towards you once more, and you step back in turn. Yet before long, you feel your legs bump the edge of the bed. A gloved hand trails a fingertip down your jawline to your chin, then urges you to look up at him.
"Whatever you are planning, my dear, I promise it will be fruitless. You had best rethink how you spend your days before your actions bring you to harm."
"No, I-" your brow creases deeply, your face burns, your body burns hotter and you don't want to consider why, "I've just been trying to learn about you as a person, nothing else. We're- we're married, after all, so..."
He gives an abrupt, dry laugh.
"Ah, so I am to believe that you've been interrogating my allies out of some misguided affection, is that it?"
"Hubert, just listen to me!" for a moment, you feel bolstered, defiant, and you straighten your posture, "You won't tell me the first thing about you- the only way to learn so much as your favorite color is to ask someone who's known you for a decade!"
Briefly, he does seem to consider your words. But his eventual reply is as aloof as any prior,
"If you're no spy or politician, then you're worse- a fool." he says, and before you can respond, he's seized both of your wrists and pushed you back onto the bed. For a moment, the room spins and your voice leaves you. A shrewd eye watches you with cruel condescension as he pins you against the sheets.
"I should think that you'd be well aware what I'm capable of," he nearly whispers, "I personally ensured that the rumors spread through your father's territory and further still. Do you think that anyone would even dare lift a finger to help you if I chose to seek retribution for this recent behavior?" He draws nearer, his grip tighter at your wrists, "Perhaps as punishment, I'll simply take my pleasure from you by force."
Your lips tighten, you take a breath. Then, meeting his gaze directly, you reply,
"You won't."
His visible eye narrows.
"And what evidence do you have to prompt such unfounded confidence? Perhaps you have crafted a flattering falsehood of me in your mind," a mocking smirk curls his lips, "Am I a misunderstood sentimental sort to you, then? A sad, lonely man for you to save?"
You scowl, though you suspect it looks more like a pout to him.
"I don't know what I think of you yet- not completely. But I don't pity you like that, and I don't think you're sad or lonely. I know you're not."
For the first time, it seems that you've caught him off guard. That frigid mask falters for just a moment, and you go on before he can replace it,
"You're surrounded by people who care about you. I've seen it for myself. Whatever you've had to do in the service of your ideals- it hasn't kept the people around you from wanting to know and understand you, even if it's despite you."
Hubert is silent for a moment. His gaze bores into you like he thinks he'll discover some hidden layer if he can just keep digging. Then, he sighs,
"How did I ever become bound to such a troublesome spouse..."
When you wrest your arms from his grasp, his hands fall away with little resistance, and you think that perhaps he had never truly intended to keep you in place by force to begin with. He moves to leave the bed, but your fists find the front of his clothing and tug him back down to you.
You press your lips to his without hesitation, and you can feel him inhale sharply, his entire body rigid above you. His lips are surprisingly soft, his scent like coffee and old parchment, and though your heart threatens to burst from your chest, you hold firmly to him by his clothes. Near imperceptibly, he leans down against you, and your fear, along with any remaining doubts, begin to dissolve. Knowing he won't pull away, you let your hands relax against him, running up his chest where you can feel his own pulse pounding. It's so human, so entirely reasonable and normal. Now, at last, Hubert Von Vestra is merely a man of flesh and bone.
Your tongue meets his naturally, your lips parting in time with his as your kiss deepens to a fevered pace. One hand reaches that sharp, handsome jawline, reveling in the erotic sensation of his mouth moving against yours. And yet, all the while, his hands remain staunchly on the bed beside you. He doesn't touch you- doesn't even let his body meet yours.
It's impossible to tell whether passion or madness drives you to bring your teeth to his lower lip, a single insistent bite communicating desire mounting faster than you can contain. And for a moment, you sense something new; a sound catches in Hubert's throat, a reaction he fights to stifle. Then, he pulls away. His pale skin is tinted a rare shade of pink, and his hair is ruffled out of place enough to reveal both narrowed eyes. His cloak has spilled around his frame to surround you both, and somewhere in your frazzled mind, you imagine that you're caught in some beautiful, velvet-lined trap.
"I- must... return to my work." Hubert says stiffly. He pushes up from you and turns away, leaving you still flustered on the bed behind him. You sit upright, holding your arms tight around your body as you watch him straighten his hair and clothes.
"You, uhm..." your face reddens still as you search for the right words, "you could... join me in bed, if you liked."
Hubert turns to the door of his study, speaking without daring to even glance your way,
"Anything that you offer to me now will be born from the impulse to survive. I have been bargained with before." His shoulders slack just slightly, his voice low and sober, "The proudest nobleman will even sell off his own child to a monster if he feels it will spare him its teeth."
You open your mouth to protest, then shut it without a word. You feel that you know your mind and heart, even in this moment, but you lack the words to convince a man like this. In a feeble attempt, you murmur,
"You don't frighten me, Hubert. Not anymore."
He half turns toward you, though his hand remains on the handle of his study door.
"You yourself said that you do not know what you think of me," he says, "As such, I will not lay a hand on you until the day that you do."
You stare down at your hands in your lap, barely registering the sound of the door clicking shut as he leaves you in the bedroom. No matter how you try to sort out your tangled thoughts, the memory of his lips on yours won't leave them. If anything, it eclipses any sense of reason, standing resolutely in the way of your path to clarity. Letting out a groaning sigh, you fall onto your back on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as if it could offer you any advice.
What do I think about my own husband? You wonder, the thought nearly enough to make you laugh. Well for one, he's a pain.
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iamburdened · 3 years
Text
Reader’s Masterlist #6
Not my stories. Just my favorites from other writers. All credits and support to the original artists.
IMPORTANT: like and REBLOG all the fanfics you read to support the writers, please.
If you liked the fanfic, tell the writer. They will be in cloud nine with your compliment! Show support!
* = NSFW
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Link to all my masterlist (+Din, + Marcus, Ben Solo/Kylo Ren, Draco Malfoy, Loki, Shawn Mendes, Tom Holland, Peter Parker, Angus McGyver, Newt Scamander, George Weasley)
DIN DJARIN X READER     (THE MANDALORIAN)
Your gentle touch   @certifiedskywalker
Summary: Dyn is forgetting his old ways but, with clear eyes, he finds something he didn’t know that he was missing out on.
Hopes and dreams    @certifiedskywalker
Summary: She’s literally a pure angel and they’re in love with each other. She holds the baby and he says mama and inside his helmet he’s thinking about marrying her.
Dating Din Djarin would include    @certifiedskywalker
Summary: what the title says, baby
NSFW Alphabet *    @no-droids
Summary: ya know
Touch it softly    @dindjarindiaries
Summary: When you invite Din to play with your hair, you both get a little more than lost in the moment. (iamburdened's note: it's so cute you will die)
Everything I wanted   @dindjarindiaries
Summary: You’re trapped inside a Din x Omera love triangle, struggling to get to your lover who’s entranced with your new host. (iamburdened's note: we all have read some angst shit with Omera, so I assure you this is worthy your time and the pain it will make you feel)
Masterlist    @dindjarindiaries
Summary: this is paradise, bitches. Jump in head first!
The War    @thisisthe-wayson
Summary: Din, baby Yoda and reader in a snow ball fight? Sign me the hell up!
The Ghost    @evendeadlmthehero
Summary: you are a blind assassin who was sent to capture a 50 year old target. You then become the target’s number one guardian, protecting him from bounty hunters like The Mandalorian himself. (iamburdened's note: you HAVE to read this, I don't even care! This is the most badass reader I've ever read.)
And he is one with me    @softpedropascal
Summary: soft shortie one about the face reveal we all love.
Hold me while you wait   @ohwaitimthewriter
Summary: Din is in love, Din is the best, blind!reader, first kiss. Have I convinced you to read it yet?
Masterlist   @ohwaitimthewriter
Summary: absolutely amazing!
The Artist    @no-droids-allowed​
Summary: Din is after a bounty, a force sensitive artist. When he finds her, surprise! All her painting are his face. Turns out they are soulmates!
Untitled omega!Din x alpha!reader *  @mikeisthricedeceased​
Summary: this is a part 2, BUT this is where the spicy stuff is so I am recommending it. Come on, it's omega Din Djarin. You want to see what happens. 
Gone and fallen in love   @propertyofdindjarin​
Summary: Din being a cute dad, accidental confession.... if I tell you I think about this from time to time will I convince you to read it? So cute!
Cyar'ika and brown eyes *  @thedevilwearsbeskar​
Summary: din’s always had a nickname for you - and thanks to your new friend miggs mayfeld, the mandalorian now has one too.
Everything I need   @thedevilwearsbeskar​
Summary: din has to rethink his life plans how that you’re by side - not that he’s complaining.
Mine   @thefanbasewhore​
Summary: Din says goodbye to reader and Grogu but once they are reunited Din has mixed feels about the situation, jealous of Luke.
Mine part 2 *   @thefanbasewhore​
Summary: Din shows you who you belong to just to discover something life changing.
Masterlist    @absurdthirst​
Summary: I recommend everything here.
More Din Djarin recommendations here
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Get used to this gif because it's one of the only 5 we have of Marcus and all fics use it!
MARCUS PIKE X READER     (THE MENTALIST)
Just say yes *   @heatherbel​
Summary: LISTEN UP! This is a MUST READ! I am pretty confident that the internet was invented jut so ART like this could be shared to poor humanity. I wish I could read it for the first time every damn day! No, it's not a proposal fic, the title has other meaning (super cool also). How to summarize it? Marcus goes on a vacation on Italy months after the Lisbon disaster and he finds you. Go read it!
Say you want me * @heatherbel
Summary: it’s the second part of the piece of art above. Another masterpiece worthy of your time and obsession. I want to die after reading something so good. Sweet Lord! (Dear, author, you own my heart)
Dreams *   @absurdthirst​
Summary: this is the classic "I had a sex dream about you and now I am awkward" BUT the way it's done makes it perfect. God, I think about this one more often than I should.
Apples & lattes *    @forever-rogue​
Summary: 7k words of pure fluff with agent Pike. First meeting, first dates... oh, to live a cute life with Marcus....
Missing Piece    @aerynwrites​
Summary:  baby talk with our favorite FBI agent. 
A love in bloom   @opheliaelysia​
Summary: The flowers mean ‘good morning’, and so much more.
What's in a name?   @ficsilike-reblogged​
Summary: The five times Marcus Pike tries to learn your name and the one time he actually does. (iaburâened's note: so cute and amazing how they progressed and Marcus nickname for her???? Just kill me already!)
Apple Pie and Chai   @artemiseamoon​
Summary: it's smolders and it is precious. Marcus being insecure and getting validation is what we need in this fandom. 
A good thing   @mellowswriting​
Summary: cute pregnancy reveal.
Masterlist    @dindjarindiaries​
Summary: I recommend absolutely everything here. 
Little things Marcus loves    @dindjarindiaries​
Summary: things you do that Marcus loves. AKA Marcus getting the love he fucking deserves.
Gold    @uselessbiwrites​
Summary: Your favorite mornings were always the ones where Marcus woke up first. (iamburdened's note: artist!Marcus! I repeat! Artist!Marcus!) 
Heaven   @mellowswriting​
Summary: dad!Marcus, happy!Marcus, getting what he deserves!Marcus. 
We'll always have Paris   @fromthedeskoftheraven​
Summary: sap moments with the cliche romance thing king. 
Like magic   @mellowswriting​
Summary: Marcus being showered in love (ha, did you get it?) just how he fucking deserves!
Ring *   @say-al0e​
Summary: Marcus Pike really enjoys being married. One of his favorite things? Seeing the ring on your finger. But what he doesn’t seem to realize is that you’re just as happy to see the ring on his finger. (AKA literally just smut that involves fingering and rings.) (iamburdened's note: this is the most canon kink for him, isn't it?)
Masterlist    @absurdthirst​
Summary: yes, again!
The portrait of love   @writings-of-a-hufflepuff​
Summary: When Marcus takes to you a work gala for the first time, he just expects a nice night chatting with colleagues and being proud to have his partner on his arm. He’s in truth a little bit worried that you’ll get bored hearing him talk about the latest art recoveries, truthfully, there’s nothing you enjoy more than listening to Marcus talk passionately about something.
As time goes by *    @absurdthirst​
Summary: After Teresa, Marcus is hesitant to jump back into the dating world, so you propose a friends with benefits situation that works, until it doesn’t. (my note: 7k of Marcus Pike. Paradise)
More Marcus Pike recommendations here
930 notes · View notes
quickspinner · 3 years
Text
Oops - Part 2
Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3
(See part 1 for summary and warnings)
Marinette was having a hard time keeping her mind on girls’ night. Rose and Juleka had just signed a new lease to move in together in the coming month, and it should have been exciting, but somehow she just couldn’t get into the discussions about decor and whose couch they should keep and how many dishes they really needed.
Marinette had other things on her mind. 
Her phone buzzed in her hand and she glanced at the others quickly before turning it over. 
Sorry, babe, I’ve got a gig that day. Wish I could.
Marinette bit her lip, trying not to be upset. She started to type a reply, when another set of messages came in. 
You could come if you want We could go home together after Just go easy on the drinks this time ;)
Marinette giggled, but sent back You sure? I won’t be in the way?
I’d want you there even if you were. You’re small, we can stick you in an instrument case if we need to
Marinette laughed aloud at that. 
Should I dress up? she typed.
Anything you wear looks good on my floor. Do what makes you happy 
Marinette pressed her legs together, bouncing her knees, and then sent, before she could rethink it, Doing you makes me happy.
There was a long pause before his next message, and then it was just an address and a time, followed by Can’t wait to see you Friday . And Saturday morning. Don’t make lunch plans. 
Marinette gave a little squeal, hiding her face in her hands. 
All of the girls were looking at her with varying expressions. Juleka and Alix looked amused, Rose excited, and Mylène just looked happy for her. 
Alya was looking at her with a slow spreading grin. “Well weeeeell,” she drawled, leaning on the counter between them. “Let me guess. Setting up your next booty call with your new boytoy?”
There was enough truth in that to make Marinette blush deeply. Alya cackled. 
“Details, girl,” she said, slapping the counter. “You’ve been doing this guy for weeks now, what’s the story? He must be good to still put that dopey look on your face after all this time.”
“What—n-no!” Marinette spluttered, looking at the rest of the girls. Juleka was rolling her eyes while Rose and Mylène covered giggles. Alix had that same amused expression as she shook her head slightly. “I’m not gonna talk about that,” Marinette insisted. “It’s none of your business!” 
“Come on, Mari, spill,” Alya said, leaning forward again. “It can’t be that embarrassing. Does he fuck you up against a wall with all your clothes on and call you a naughty girl?” 
Marinette choked, and Alya laughed. 
“Oh, Marinette, you’re such an innocent,” she chortled, sitting back with a smirk like she had gained some kind of victory. 
Marinette’s face burned with both shame and...anger. How dare Alya dismiss her just like that? Like they were still silly teenagers and Marinette couldn’t even talk to a guy, let alone take him home and—suddenly she realized she was tired of Alya’s patronizing, and on top of that, she felt insulted on Luka’s behalf. Taking a breath, Marinette straightened her shoulders and put on the best air of nonchalance she could manage despite her red face. “He probably would, if I asked him to,” she said airily. “But he really likes to take his time for that part.” Summoning up every ounce of the boldness Luka inspired in her, she blurted, “If he wants to make me come fast and hard, he uses his hands.” 
The entire room went silent as they all stared at her. Pretending like she didn’t feel like she was going to throw up from nerves and embarrassment any second, Marinette added dreamily, “He has amazing hands.” 
Alya raised her eyebrows, clearly amused and at least half disbelieving. “Not his tongue?” 
“He’s a great kisser,” Marinette smiled, deliberately misunderstanding. Alya grinned wolfishly. 
“No, girl, I mean when he e—“
“Oh, he’s great with his mouth on me too,” Marinette interrupted, eyes widening innocently. “It’s just, when he uses his hands, he can still use his voice. Mm, he has such a sexy voice.” The shudder that went through her was entirely real. “It makes me so…” she couldn’t quite bring herself to say it, and took a sip of her wine instead.
“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I can’t believe that you like this guy dirty-talking you,” Alya accused, narrowing her eyes as she set her cup down with a slam. “Little miss sweetness and light. You can’t even handle it when we talk about fucking.”
Marinette shrugged as if she was completely indifferent to what Alya believed. “You don’t say it like he does,” she commented, and took another sip of her drink, staring off into the distance as if she’d completely forgotten Alya was there. She was stretching the truth a bit, she knew. It wasn’t dirty talk, not really, not the way Alya was thinking. Luka didn’t have to be filthy to work her up; he could recite phone listings in that hot, growling voice, and it would be enough to put her over the edge, so when he told her she was beautiful, that he loved the way she smelled or tasted or felt or sounded, or asked what she wanted, or suggested something he wanted her to do for him, or panted out how close he was…
She shivered again. 
Alya didn’t need to know that though. Marinette flicked her eyes around the others, a little nervous about their reactions. Mylène was smiling, Juleka was smirking, and Rose had her hands clasped together and was practically vibrating with excitement. Alix was snickering behind her hand.
“Aw, did Marinette just shatter all your illusions, Alya?” Alix laughed. “You just can’t handle that your oh-so-innocent bestie has a hot side piece.”
Marinette frowned. “Can you have a side piece if you don’t have a...a main piece?”
Alix patted her shoulder. “You can be your own main piece.” 
“Marinette,” Alya said, putting her drink down, suddenly serious. “This isn’t like you. Just who is this guy, anyway? Does he even have a day job?” 
“Yes,” Marinette frowned. “He’s a teacher.” It wasn’t a lie; Luka did teach private music lessons in addition to his performance work, but with Alya giving her that judgemental look, Marinette didn’t intend to give her any details. 
“Ooh, hot for teacher, nice.” Alix reached over and, though feeling a little foolish, Marinette met her high five, but Alya looked unconvinced.
“Well, just be careful,” Alya cautioned her. “You’re still on the rebound—” Am I? Marinette found herself wondering. It didn’t feel like it, actually, when she thought about it. “—and I know you’re feeling pretty vulnerable right now and I don’t want this guy taking advantage of you. If you wanna have fun with him, whatever, but be careful what you tell him and don’t loan him any money.” She sighed. “And especially, don’t fall in love with him. He’s a good time, and that’s it, and he’ll only break your heart if you start wanting more.” 
Marinette just stared at her, mouth hanging open slightly, as Alya turned away. There was a tense moment and then Rose piped up, “All right, are we ready for the movie? Let’s get started!” The girls all murmured agreement and began moving toward the living room.
Marinette put her drink down, 
“Hey,” Alix said, leaning over her shoulder. “Alya’s just trying to look out for you. She didn’t mean it how it sounded, you know that. If you say this guy is cool, I believe you, but it never hurts to watch out for yourself, right?”
“Y-yeah,” Marinette managed a weak smile. “I get it. Sure.” 
***
Marinette was having a shit day. One of her underlings had screwed up at work, which meant, to the bosses, that Marinette screwed up, and then she had to smile and take in the teeth from her bosses while soothing her horrified intern and trying to deal with the problems he’d caused. She’d complained about it to Alya when she got home, and stupidly, she’d mentioned that knowing she had a date with Luka tonight was the only thing that got her through the day. That earned her another well-intentioned condescending talking-to about being careful and not getting invested in something that was clearly only temporary. “I know you, Marinette,” Alya insisted. “He’ll say something sweet just trying to get you naked and you’ll get infatuated and start planning your whole future while the whole time he’s got one foot out the door.” Nino, who’d showed up to pick up Alya in the middle of it, had grudgingly sided with Alya over the whole thing. 
“It’s not really like you, Nette,” Nino said with an uncomfortable shrug. “I mean, I don’t want to be all judgy and weird. I just…well, you’ve...” He’d trailed off and hustled Alya out the door when he saw tears in Marinette’s eyes, leaving her at least with the dignity of breaking down in private. 
She flopped over the arm of the couch and sobbed until her phone beeped a reminder at her. Luka , she thought, touching her swollen face. She couldn’t go out like this. Honestly, she wasn’t sure she wanted to anymore. She just wanted to crawl into bed and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.
But she had this date, and…
Alya’s words flooded back and fresh tears fell down her face. Maybe Luka wouldn’t care if she canceled. Maybe…maybe she shouldn’t be feeling so sick about that thought. Maybe Alya was right and she was on the road to another heartbreak. Luka had never said anything, after that first day, about wanting anything more. They weren’t always having sex when they were together, they did other things, but they did always end up in bed eventually. But that didn’t mean anything! Right? Maybe—Marinette sighed. Maybe she didn’t need anything else to spiral about tonight, thanks so much, Alya. Why wasn’t she allowed to just have fun without Alya telling her what was best for her? She enjoyed spending time with Luka, and yeah, he made it clear he enjoyed all the... intimate things they did, but that didn’t mean— 
Focus , she reminded herself, wiping her eyes again. She still had a date tonight that she was in no condition to go to, and if she didn’t call soon Luka would already be on his way to meet her. 
She took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself and called him.
“Hey, beautiful, what’s up?” Luka asked, his smooth voice light and cheerful.
“Hi,” Marinette squeaked, and then gulped down a sob. Shit, she should have texted, she sounded awful.
Luka’s tone shifted immediately. “What’s wrong?” he asked. 
“N-nothing major, I just...I had a really bad day and...I don’t think I’m up for our date tonight. I’m so sorry, I know it’s really last minute, I hope you haven’t left yet, I just—” She caught a tear on her hand and wiped it away, trying not to sniffle into the phone.
“Of course it’s okay,” Luka said, his voice low and soft. “Don’t force yourself, it’s fine. Do you want to talk about it?” 
“No,” Marinette choked, her throat tightening again. 
“Okay. Well, how about if I grab some takeout and bring you dinner? I can pick up something for your roommate too if you like.”
“Oh, you don’t—you don’t have to do that. Alya’s out with her boyfriend, I’m not sure she’s even coming back tonight. I mean, you don’t have to pick up anything at all, I can just scrounge something, I'll be fine, I think we have some...some ramen or something I can make…I’m not very hungry right now anyway.” Ugh, she was a babbling idiot, why hadn’t she just texted him.
“Late lunch?”
“No…” Marinette frowned, trying to think. “I don’t think I ate lunch.”
“Thought so,” Luka chuckled. 
“B-but—I—“
“I don’t have to stay if you’d rather be alone,” Luka told her, his voice so full of sympathy that she wanted to cry all over again. “But at least let me bring you something to eat. It’s not like I had other plans. What’s your favorite food to cry into?” His tone turned teasing. “I can at least bring you some real ramen instead of the instant stuff, if that’s really what you want.” 
Marinette bit her lip, picturing for a moment the congee she used to get at the shop by her old office. She loved it, because it reminded her of her mother’s, but she hadn’t had in in ages because they didn’t deliver to this part of town, and—
“Anything you want,” Luka told her softly. “Come on, what are you thinking about?” 
“It’s out of your way,” Marinette said, shifting on her couch. “I...give me just a second, I’ll think of something, um…” 
“Marinette,” Luka said, a touch of amusement in his voice. “Just tell me what you want. I’m all over this town for gigs all the time, a few extra subway stops won’t kill me.” 
She told him, and gave him directions. 
“Okay. I’ll go pick it up and be there as soon as I can. You take a nice long bath or a shower, or at least wash your face, okay? Get comfortable for a night in.”
Marinette smiled a little at his prescription, and whispered, “Okay.” She sat there a few minutes longer after they hung up, trying to gather enough caring to get up and do as he suggested. Finally she made it up off the couch, and drifted into the bathroom.
She cried more in the shower, but she did feel better after standing in the hot water, which at least relieved some of the stiffness and stinging of her face and eyes, and helped her breathe easier. She sat on her bed wrapped in her towel for a long moment, feeling limp and languid, but if she was sitting here naked when Luka showed up, he’d probably think she wanted some other kind of comforting, and she just wasn’t sure she felt like it tonight. She dug out one of her more modest nightgowns, made of thin, soft fabric that fell to her calves, with wide straps and a shallow scoop neck that covered most of her chest. It was still pretty, because Marinette liked pretty things, but it wasn’t seductive or anything like that. 
Not that she was in any condition to seduce anybody, she thought, as she pressed her fingers below her aching eyes. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to let Luka come over. Would it hurt his feelings if she made him leave the food at the door?
Marinette had almost decided to do just that when she heard him knock. She paused with her hand on the doorknob, and then sighed. Well, if her puffy, blotchy face and stuffed up nose grossed him out and he didn’t want to see her anymore, then at least that would be one less thing for Alya to bitch at her about, she thought as she opened the door.
Luka’s expression shifted from concern to sympathy as soon as she came into view. “Aw, come here,” he said, reaching for her as he stepped inside. Marinette let him wrap his arm around her and leaned into him as he squeezed her. He kept her under his arm as he walked to the table, where he put the bag of food down and then turned to embrace her fully, folding her in a tight hug, as he swayed slightly and rubbed her back. It felt amazing, actually, and Marinette pressed her face into his chest, inhaling his scent and enjoying the firm feel of him, warm and solid. 
“You want to eat at the table or somewhere else?” he asked. 
“Couch?” she mumbled into his chest, and he steered her over to it. 
“Sit down then, and I’ll get it all ready.”
He brought her the bowl a few minutes later, sitting down next to her as he made sure she had a grip on it before he let go. “Do you want me to go?” he asked, tucking a damp lock of hair back from her face. “Or would you rather have some company? I won’t be offended, if you’d rather be alone.” 
Marinette looked up at him and opened her mouth, and then changed her mind, looking down with a blush. “Actually some company sounds nice,” she mumbled. 
Luka smiled, and leaned forward to kiss her temple gently. “Let me grab my food then.”
When he returned with his plate, he sat next to Marinette and put his arm around her shoulders. Marinette cuddled against his side, tucking her feet under herself. She admired the ease with which Luka balanced his plate on his knee as he ate, but then from some of the stories he’d told her she supposed he was probably used to eating in weird places
The congee felt good on her raw throat, and she ate almost the whole bowl before she sighed and set it on the coffee table to snuggle more firmly against Luka’s side. He’d already finished, and he put both arms around her. She told him a little bit about her day, leaving out the details of the argument with Alya, and Luka made sympathetic noises and kissed her forehead. 
Alya’s wrong about him , Marinette thought, tucking her face against his neck. He’d never treat anyone the way she thinks, even if it was only physical. He’s too sweet. And I don’t...I don’t think that’s what this is. I think...maybe he really meant what he said at the cafe. Maybe he still does. She took a shaky breath, and Luka’s face turned a little closer to hers, so she knew he was listening.
Marinette chickened out. “Could we...maybe get in bed and watch a movie?” 
“Sure, I’d love that.” Luka smiled. “What’s your favorite thing to watch when you feel crappy?”
Marinette blushed. “You’ll laugh.”
Luka grinned. “So what if I do? If you like it, that’s all that matters. Be selfish tonight, Marinette.” 
Luka followed her to her bedroom, and his eyebrows shot up when she produced a dusty old DVD with a picture of a bus on it. “Speed?” he said, sitting on the bed, and then bit his lip. He held up a finger, turned away from Marinette, and buried his face in her pillow as he laughed. Marinette grabbed her other pillow and whacked him with it. 
“I told you you’d laugh,” she pouted as Luka pushed himself up and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I love Keanu Reeves.” 
“Give it here, and get comfy,” he told her, getting up. Marinette gave him the movie, and he put it in as she tossed the blanket back to the bottom of the bed and got under the sheet. Then she had an internal panic attack as Luka kicked off his shoes and socks and shimmied off his jeans. Oh, maybe she should have—but he’d never have been comfortable if she made him stay dressed, and it didn’t mean they were going to…Stupid, they could have stayed on the couch, why did she invite him to bed?
Barely thinking, Marinette caught the hem of his shirt just before he went to pull it off. “Can you...leave it on?” she asked, and blushed when he looked at her quizzically. “I really like cuddling with you but I...I just—”
“Just?” Luka asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Never mind, it’s stupid,” Marinette sighed, letting go, and feeling like an idiot. “You should be comfortable.
“So should you,” Luka said, sitting back down on the bed. “I can wear a shirt if you want, it’s no big deal.” He reached over and smoothed back her hair—now mostly dry, thankfully. “Is something wrong? You know you can tell me if I ever make you uncomfortable.” 
Oh, she was the worst. He was so kind to her and she was the worst , and how could she admit anything like this to him? Marinette hung her head, and told a truth that wasn’t the truth. “I just...don’t like it when our skin sticks together,” she confessed, and then put her hands over her face. “I’m so sorry. Forget I said anything. I’m being stupid.”
“I’m not forgetting anything,” Luka laughed, sliding under the sheet beside her. “Why are you acting like you did something wrong?” 
“It’s...not very romantic,” Marinette sighed, wrinkling her nose. 
Luka rolled his eyes. “I’d rather you be comfortable than preserve some imaginary aesthetic that no one but us would even be aware of. I don’t mind wearing my shirt or keeping the sheet pulled up if it makes you more comfortable.” He slid down a bit, and stretched his arm out towards her.  Marinette snuggled up next to him again, and sighed contentedly as she rested her cheek against his chest, glad that he wore a soft, slightly worn t-shirt instead of a crisp dress shirt. 
“Comfy now?” he asked, his hand sliding up to massage the back of her neck. 
“Mm,” she agreed, and leaned into his touch with a hum. Eventually they slithered down to lay flat in the bed, Luka curling against her back with his head on her pillow, murmuring sly comments about the movie every now and then that made Marinette giggle, and occasionally reach back to elbow him when she thought he was getting too far out of line. No one, she told him, dissed Keanu in her bed. 
“Yes ma’am,” he agreed, laughing into her hair before he kissed the top of her head. Marinette smiled. 
It was nice, having him snuggled up against her, his teasing voice in her ear, and Marinette’s mood was lifting with each passing moment. She found herself focusing on his broad hand resting on his stomach, his breath tickling the back of her neck, and the warmth of him behind her, the brush of his chest against her back when he breathed. Heat began to pool low in her belly, and her breathing quickened. She pressed back a little, just enough that her back was resting against her chest now, and Luka nuzzled her neck, placing a little kiss below her ear before settling again. Marinette sighed, annoyed with herself. Here she had been worried about giving him the wrong idea, but now that she was comfortable and relaxed, she was starting to change her mind. 
Marinette sniffed experimentally, and found she was breathing much better. She shifted slightly, biting her lip, and then rolled over to face Luka. He blinked at her a little sleepily, and then he smiled. “I’m glad you didn’t revoke my bed privileges. I’m really comfortable right now,” he murmured. “You look like you’re feeling better.” . 
“I am,” she said, and wiggled a little closer, her body already warming at the thought of his touch. She leaned up and kissed him, and any hesitation she’d still been feeling vanished at the soft feel of his mouth against hers. It seemed to wake Luka up too, because his hand went to her face and he returned her kiss with equal enthusiasm. Marinette caught hold of his shirt, and tugged him closer when he would have leaned back. “Can I be selfish, Luka?” she breathed, and felt him shudder as she kissed him again. “Even after all you’ve done for me? Can I ask for more?”
“Always,” he rumbled, rolling up onto his elbow to follow her as she kept tugging on his collar, wiggling to get beneath him. She gasped as he pressed against her, and arched her body up into his, suddenly feeling desperate. Had he been turned on this whole time and said nothing? Alya is so wrong about him. 
“Comfortable , huh?” she teased, and Luka grinned sheepishly.
“I was,” he defended, “Mostly. I can ignore it when I have to, and you didn’t seem like you were up for much.” He kissed her softly.  
“I wasn’t,” she admitted, and then rolled her hips up into him. Luka groaned, his forehead dropping to her shoulder as he grabbed at her hip, and her own eyes closed in pleasure. “I am now,” she sighed. “Please, Luka.” She shivered as she felt the fabric of her nightgown bunch under his big hands, the hem sliding up her calves and over her knees. 
Alya was wrong about him, Marinette was sure, looking up into his eyes as he bent down to kiss her gently, but thoroughly. He only broke the kiss when he finally found the hem of the nightgown. “Can I take my shirt off now?” he asked teasingly as he dragged the nightgown up over her head. Marinette made a muffled sound. “What?” he laughed, but his laugh cut off when she pressed her hips up into him again. 
“I said, yes please,” she told him smugly as he reached back for his collar.  
Marinette settled her arms around his neck and pulled him down into her, eager now for the press of his skin against hers. Luka’s hands carded into her hair, tipping her face to the perfect angle as his mouth descended on hers again. She spared one fleeting thought fr Alya’s warnings before she gave herself up to the moment.
Alya is wrong about Luka...but she might be right about me. Maybe I am falling in love with him. 
***
The movie menu screen had been playing for a while when Luka finally picked up the remote and turned the tv off. “I’m going to grab a drink,” Luka said, kissing Marinette’s jaw. “You want something?” 
“Yes, please,” Marinette sighed. “I don’t think I can move yet.” 
Luka chuckled and kissed her again. “Be right back.” 
Grinning to himself, Luka stopped to pull his boxers and jeans on and made his way to the refrigerator, leaning down to find the water bottles he knew were tucked into the back for him. He’d gotten picky about water on the road, so Marinette, thoughtful as always, kept a few bottles of his favorite brand for him. He grabbed one and cracked it open, taking a long gulp, and then bent to reach in and grab the filter pitcher to make a glass for Marinette. 
“Excuse me?”
Luka jumped and straightened, and turned around to find a woman standing in the apartment doorway, lit from the hall behind. She had one hand on her hip and the other on the doorknob, where a set of keys was still hanging. 
“Hey,” he said, shutting the refrigerator door. “You must be Alya. I’m Luka. I’m Marinette’s—ah—” He’d almost said boyfriend, but he wasn’t, technically, and he suddenly realized he had no idea what word to use. “Friend,” he finally finished lamely, acutely aware of how the word hung between them as he stood there half-naked and disheveled. He lifted the water bottle to his lips again, still parched. “Sorry, we didn’t realize you were coming home tonight.” 
He turned to get a glass from the cabinet, and felt Alya’s eyes on him as he poured the water for Marinette and put the pitcher back. He glanced up and, as he suspected, the look she was giving him was not one of appreciation. Luka had seen that look before and knew that she was seeing the dye and the piercings and the tattoos and not much else. He waited for her to say something, but when she didn’t seem inclined to, he shrugged. “Well, it’s nice to meet you,” he said quickly, and then made his way past her and back to Marinette’s room. “I’ll let Marinette know you’re home.” 
He shut Marinette’s bedroom door behind him, blowing out a breath, and then looked at the bed. 
He forgot about Alya for a moment when his eyes fell on Marinette, looking relaxed and blissfully happy, one lovely shoulder and her feet peeking out of the sheet she had tucked around herself. He could still see the marks of her earlier breakdown on her face, but she looked at peace now. 
If he hadn’t already been sure he loved her, he didn’t think anything on earth would have saved him from falling in that moment. 
Luka brought the water over and set it on her nightstand, then leaned over her to set his on the other one. Marinette smiled dreamily up at him, and he bent down and kissed her gently. She smiled against his lips.
“Your mouth is cold,” she told him, and giggled. 
“Yours is hot,” he teased, kissing her again, a little deeper. Then he sighed. “Your, um...your roommate is home,” he told her, half-regretting it as Marinette stiffened instantly. “I kind of ran into her in the kitchen.”
Marinette bit her lip, looking up at him as a blush lit her face. “Oops,” she murmured, and then giggled in a way that said maybe she wasn’t all that sorry. Laughing, Luka all but tackled her, pressing her back into the pillows as he kissed her messily, moving his lips to her neck and collarbone when she tried to squirm away from him. 
“What was that for?” Marinette giggled, pushing lightly at his chest until he propped himself up on his arms. 
“You are criminally hot,” he told her, smirking when the red tinting her cheeks darkened. “Especially when you blush.” Always when she blushed, but especially now, looking so ravished and yet so sweetly pretty, shy and shameless at the same time. 
He leaned down and kissed her again, more gently, and she hummed against him, kissing him twice more when he would have pulled away. 
When she finally let him sit back, he asked, “Do you want me to leave?” 
“No,” she said with determination, slipping her hand around the back of his neck and pulling him back down into another kiss. “Come get back in bed with me.” 
Not at all unwilling, Luka shimmied out of his pants and crawled over her, slipping under the sheet and tucking it around his front before laying an arm down in invitation. Marinette shifted over to him, and Luka shivered when she moved the sheet away from between them. Instead of settling her head down on his shoulder, she kissed his chest, and his neck, and pressed herself up against him. “I don’t think you’re as done as you led me to believe,” she whispered with a teasing smile. 
“Well not anymore.” Luka grinned up at her, shifting onto his back in answer to the press of his hands on her shoulders. “Feel like scandalizing your roommate?”
“Believe me, it’s her turn,” Marinette huffed, climbing on top of him, and looking up at her pretty face with smiling lips bruised from his kisses, haloed by mussed black hair he couldn’t wait to tangle his hands in again, Luka promptly forgot anyone else even existed. 
Later, he was nearly asleep, curled around Marinette with the sheet tucked between them, when she whispered, “Luka?”
“Hmm?” he blinked his eyes open, though he couldn’t see much. He felt her tense, though, and moved a hand to her arm, rubbing his thumb along her skin. 
“I think I’m falling for you,” she finally said, the sentence half a sigh as the air rushed out of her. 
Luka froze for an instant, completely awake now, and he felt Marinette flinch and tense. Quickly he pressed his lips to the back of her neck, and slid his arm around her waist. “Let me know when you’re sure,” he murmured against her skin. “I’m waiting at the bottom to catch you.” 
He felt her sigh and relax, and then she rolled, scooting up close against him and pillowing her head on his shoulder. Luka held her, rubbing her back softly, and turned his head to bury his face in the pillow to keep himself from screaming. 
On his way out in the morning, Luka gave Alya a broad grin and a two-fingered salute.
***
“Girls, we have a problem,” Alya announced, plopping into a chair and slamming her to-go cup down on the table.
“Good morning to you too, Alya,” Alix muttered, face propped on her fist. “What the hell is it that you needed to talk to us about this early?”
“I met Marinette’s boytoy last night.”
Blank stares from around the table. Alya sighed. “The one night stand? The guy she’s been fucking every night she had free for the last month and more?” 
Alix raised her eyebrows. “Still not seeing the point. So Marinette’s getting laid. A lot. Good for her. Wasn’t it your idea for her to get back out there in the first place?” 
Alya slapped the table. “That’s just it! She’s not out there! She’s hung up on this dude and my point is that this isn’t like Marinette. You know she can’t just do random hookups. This has been going on for a month straight and you know she’s going to catch feelings, if she hasn’t already. And that guy, he—he’s not Marinette’s type . He’s got tattoos and piercings and dyed hair and his clothes are practically rags!” 
“Sounds hot,” Alix observed, and Alya rolled her eyes. 
“It’s not Marinette , and he’s definitely not the type who’s looking to settle down with one girl. He’s going to fuck her until she starts wanting more and then he’s going to break her heart. If we’re lucky. If we’re not, he’ll string her along with a bunch of promises, probably cheating on her the whole time, and then really break her heart. This isn’t the kind of relationship Marinette wants!” She waved her hands around for emphasis. “Marinette wants a house and a picket fence and a—a hamster. She needs husband material .” 
“It does seem like Marinette wouldn’t be satisfied with a purely physical relationship,” Mylène said hesitantly. “But are you sure this man is no good? What if he does like Marinette?” 
“They could totally fall in love! Opposites attract, you know!” Rose added, hooking her arm through Juleka’s with a giggle. “Maybe all Marinette needs is somebody a little bit different to take her mind off...you know. Him .” 
“Rose, there’s different and then there’s different, ” Alya sighed. “Some different is okay, but picking up punk guys in nightclubs is a little extreme, don’t you think?”
“Mkay,” Alix sighed. “Even supposing we agreed with you, and I’m not saying we do, what would we even do about it?” 
“What we need is a distraction,” Alya said, tapping a finger on the table as her brow furrowed in thought. “Someone who can get her mind off of her fuckbuddy and back to thinking about kids and hamsters.” 
For a moment the girls sat in silence. 
“Well,” Juleka said slowly, as heads turned toward her. “There’s my brother, I suppose. He just got back into town a couple months ago.”
“Oh, that’s true!” Rose exclaimed, laying a finger alongside her cheek as she thought. “Ooh, that could work, Juleka. I mean, if Marinette and this guy are in love, then she’ll just be making a new friend, right? And if Alya’s right, then there’s no harm in just introducing Marinette to someone else.”
Juleka shrugged. “Hard to say with him though, whether he’ll be into Marinette. He’ll either get bored or fall hard. He likes creative types—“
“That’s definitely Marinette,” Alix said dully.
“People who are honest—transparent, even.”
Alix snorted. “Also Marinette.”
Juleka was looking even more thoughtful. “People who don’t back down, who think outside the box...yeah, we could try it.” She shrugged. “Don’t know what Marinette’ll think of him, though.”
“He is very handsome,” Rose pointed out. “Not much like— you know , but that might work in our favor after everything. He looks a little bit like Keanu Reeves, and you know Marinette loves him.” 
Juleka snorted. “He wishes he looked like Keanu Reeves.”
“They have the same vibe,” Rose defended. 
Juleka just shook her head. “Well, if Marinette’s into ink and piercings and the whole bad boy look right now, it shouldn’t be a problem, anyway. Dumbass looks like the rough type but he’s a total teddy bear. Best of both worlds, I guess.” 
“Okay, I’ve heard enough,” Alya declared, clapping her hands. “Plan A. Juleka and Rose are throwing a housewarming party.”
“We are?” chorused Rose and Juleka.
“We’ll invite Marinette, Juleka’s brother will be there, we get them together, and they hit it off, and she kicks her loser booty call to the curb. Problem solved.” Alya nodded firmly. 
Alix dropped her head onto her arms. “What’s plan B?” she mumbled. “Seems like this whole plan could fall apart if they end up not liking each other.”
Alya waved a hand dismissively. “We’ll figure that out after we see how this one goes. I’ll have thought of something before the party.”  
***
“This is a pleasant surprise,” Marinette said, tucking the phone between her shoulder and ear as she folded her laundry. “I didn’t expect to hear from you today. I thought you had plans tonight.” 
“I do,” Luka replied. “I just have a few minutes and I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Oh?” Marinette frowned. “What?”
“Well, I had a very interesting conversation with my sister today,” Luka told her, and she could hear amusement in his voice. “She invited me to a party later this week. Said there’s a friend of hers she’d like me to meet. Thought we might hit it off .”
“O-oh,” Marinette managed, dropping the shirt she held. “Really?” Insecurity flooded up and threatened to drown her. Aside from that one late night conversation, they hadn’t really revisited their relationship status. She hadn’t had the courage to bring it up again. If Luka wanted to meet someone else, he was still technically free to do so, but...but she’d thought...
“Yeah, maybe you know her,” Luka laughed. “She’s in your field, after all. Some hot-shot, up and coming designer named Marinette Dupain-Cheng .” 
“Oh. Oh. ” Marinette’s eyes widened, and then she frowned. “Wait, do I know your sister?”
“Well, that’s what I called to find out.” Luka snorted softly. “Know a Juleka Couffaine by any chance?” 
“Juleka?” Marinette shrieked. “You’re related to—how did I not know that? Why didn’t she ever say anything? Why didn’t you?” She racked her brains, thinking back. 
“Mm, generally we’ve been busy not saying other things. Gotta say Jules hasn’t exactly been on my mind when we’re together.” His low chuckle made Marinette blush. 
“Right.” Marinette blushed. “And I suppose I never mentioned your name to her, and Alya just calls you—” She stopped, embarrassed.
“What?” Luka asked, humor in his voice.
“My, um...boytoy.” Luka laughed uproariously, and Marinette began to giggle again. “Or sometimes things that aren’t quite so nice. She thinks you’re not good for me. Because...because of how we met, and all. Um.” She took a breath, hesitating, but then remembered that awful feeling just moments ago when it seemed like the floor had dropped out from under her, and decided it was time to put everything on the table. “She thinks you’re just in it for the sex, and I’m going to get invested and end up getting hurt.” 
“Oh, I see.” Luka drawled. “As if I haven’t been head over heels for you since the moment I saw you.” Marinette blushed, and bit her lip, but Luka went on before she could say anything. “I get it. Sounds to me like your roommate’s trying to set you up with someone who’ll take care of you. Get you away from that sex-crazed loser that’s seduced her poor little innocent bestie.” 
Marinette buried her face, phone and all, into the throw pillow next to her and giggled until her sides hurt and she was gasping.
“Are you done?” Luka asked, still sounding amused, when the giggling finally subsided. “Or do I need to send someone over there to administer oxygen?” 
“I’m fine,” Marinette snickered. “Listen, Luka, my friends are having a party next week and I’ve got this weird feeling they’re trying to set me up. Will you come be my date to Juleka’s party? Maybe—“ She steeled herself and took the plunge. “Maybe if I introduce them to my boyfriend , they’ll back off.
There was a moment of silence. Marinette forgot to breathe.
“I’m going to need you to say that again when we’re in the same room,” Luka said, voice deliciously deep and husky, “So I can kiss you properly. Can you come over?”
Air rushed out of her. “Aren’t you busy tonight?” she asked, and smiled at the sound of his laugh. 
“Not anymore.” 
“Are you sure?” she teased. “I thought you had plans.” 
“Consider them cancelled,” Luka told her, “Get your gorgeous ass over here.” 
She did, and after she had said it again, after the kissing and the other soft words, after the more-than-kissing, they cuddled close, happy, sated, and basking in their newly upgraded relationship. Marinette felt Luka stir and prop himself on his elbow.
“You know,” he said, his breath washing across her cheek. “I’m thinking about this party the girls are planning.”
“Do you still want to go?” Marinette asked, reaching up 
“Absolutely,” he said, and then his voice dropped, making her shiver slightly as he nuzzled her ear. “But why don’t we make things a little interesting.”  He whispered his plan in Marinette’s ear, and she began to giggle. 
***
Juleka sighed as she looked at their new apartment, cleaned and decorated without a scrap of cardboard left in the place, and gazed with exasperated fondness on all the little finger sandwiches and appetizers Rose had spent all day making. Luka had better appreciate this, she thought, as she pasted on a smile and started letting in the guests that began to arrive in ones and twos. Well, at least Rose was happy. Any excuse to bust out the glitter and craft paper and try out all these super cute recipes she found on Pinterest.
Juleka was genuinely happy to see Luka, though, when he finally knocked on the door. Her schedule had been packed lately, which was great from a career standpoint, but she hadn’t seen as much of him as she wanted to since he’d come back from his travels. She felt a little guilty that it had taken Alya’s plotting to get her to make room on her schedule to see him. 
Well, hopefully she was about to make up for it.
“Hey, Jules,” he said, kissing her cheek and then Rose’s. “Congratulations on the new place.” 
“Thanks,” Juleka half-smiled, all the admission she was willing to make that she was glad to see him. She was pleased to note that he’d listened to her admonishments and dressed up. He looked nice, in a black dress shirt open at the collar and jeans that were mostly intact. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing the tattoos on his arms, and the dye in his hair was bright and fresh. Good. Maybe he had half a shot with Marinette, if he didn’t open up his big mouth and screw it up. 
“We’re so glad you could make it, Luka!” Rose squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. Then she drew back with a dismayed expression. “Oh, but she’s not here yet.”
Luka shrugged. “That’s okay, I’m in no hurry. I meant to tell you, I’ve...actually been seeing someone, to be honest.” He had the grace to look sheepish, and winced at the way Juleka’s eyes widened.
“What?” she asked sharply, and then smacked his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Luka shrugged, and Juleka’s heart sank at the stupid grin that spread over his face. “We weren’t really official until just a few days ago. After we talked about this. I don’t think I’ve put my guitar down since then except to pee, so…I kinda forgot.” 
“Gross,” Juleka muttered out of habit. 
“Oh,” cooed Rose, clasping her hands together, before grabbing Juleka’s arm and shaking her lightly. “Ohhh, he looks so happy!”
“I am happy,” Luka grinned. “Really, really happy. She’s amazing, I’ve never met anyone like her. It’s maybe too soon to say it, but...this could be it, you know?”
Juleka felt a little sick. She hadn’t realized she was so invested in setting up Luka and Marinette, but the crushing disappointment she now felt said she was. She liked Marinette a lot, and she loved Luka more than almost anyone else in the world, and the more she considered the idea of them together, the more she thought it could work. Even though she had told herself (and Rose) not to get her hopes up, she absolutely had. 
But Luka was practically glowing, so Juleka swallowed the sick feeling and told him she was happy for him. And she was, really. She had to be happy about anything that made him smile like that. As much as she would have liked to have Marinette for a sister, she wanted Luka’s happiness over all. 
She wasn’t looking forward to dealing with Alya, though. Focus. Luka was looking at her with a little hopeful half-smile on his face and Rose would kill her if she crushed his enthusiasm.
“Well, when you’re sure we won’t scare her off, bring her to dinner.” Juleka punched his arm lightly. “I have to meet the lunatic who would date you.” 
“Sure, sounds good. So, is there a tour?” Luka asked with a grin, and Rose bounced on her toes before grabbing onto his arm and tugging him further into the apartment. She gave Juleka one commiserating glance behind his back before she began introducing him to the small gathering of friends in their modest living room. 
Juleka sighed and stationed herself back by the door to head off Alya when she came in and warn her. 
The next person to show up, though, was Marinette, which was a bit surprising. She was supposed to be coming with Alya, and she wasn’t nearly as late as she usually was. Juleka felt like pouting as she looked over Marinette. She was dressed up too, in a chocolate brown dress that hugged her figure nicely to the waist, covered with a sheer lace overlay that ran up over her neck and shoulders. The skirt hung to her knees in sheer layers edged in scallops of pink lace that were piled thick enough to cover everything important, but thin enough to tease. Her hair was loose and flowing around her shoulders, and she was smiling so cheerfully, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. She’d have been the perfect bait if the trap hadn’t already been sprung. Dammit, Luka , Juleka thought grumpily. You’re missing out, dumbass . 
“I brought cookies!” Marinette said breathlessly, holding up a cellophane-wrapped platter. “You can keep the plate, I got it for you.” 
Juleka mumbled her thanks, smiling at the combination of cookies shaped like roses and black bats on a platter that matched their new dishes. “Thanks, Marinette. That’s really thoughtful.”
“Of course,” Marinette grinned, bobbing on her toes a little. “I’m so excited for you guys!”
She looked so genuinely excited that Juleka had to smile. “Most everybody is here already,” Juleka told her, waving her on into the apartment. “Rose is in the back showing some people around, but she’ll be back up in a minute. Wine?” 
“Please,” Marinette said gratefully, and Juleka poured her a glass. “You did a great job of blending your styles, it looks so pretty in here, but, you know. Juleka pretty and not just Rose pretty. I really like what you did with the curtains—” 
Juleka let her ramble on, glancing at the clock now and again. Alya and Alix were due any minute and she had to head Alya off before she did anything...pushy. Luka didn’t like pushy. Marinette drifted into the living room to chat with some other friends—and damn, the front of that dress might be all sweetness and light but the back was really sexy. “Damn it, Luka,” Juleka muttered with a frustrated sigh. “This girl better be fucking incredible.”  
Luka was just following Rose back from the spare bedroom the girls were turning into a combination craft/music room, when he caught sight of Marinette chatting with a few other people in the living room.
Rose saw her almost at the same time, and gave a little squeal. “Marinette, you made it!” 
Marinette came to hug her, and Luka waited while they exchanged pleasantries, trying to keep his cool so he didn’t give anything away. Finally Rose remembered he was there and turned to him, tugging Marinette forward a little. 
“Oh, Marinette, this is Juleka’s brother Luka!” Rose chirped. “Luka, this is Marinette, the friend we were telling you about.” 
For a moment, they just looked at each other. Just long enough to give Rose pause. Then...
“Hi,” Luka said, grinning down at her. 
“Hi,” Marinette murmured, smiling up at him. 
 “You look good enough to eat,” he told her, settling a hand on her hip and tugging her closer. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Rose’s eyes widen and had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.
“Is that a promise?” Marinette winked, and the tremble in her voice said she was about to laugh too. 
He bent down and she pushed up and they met in a passionate kiss. Her arms went around his neck (she remembered just in time not to dump her wine down his back) and his hands found her back—which was mostly bare, he realized as he felt warm skin under his hands. The noise he made wasn’t very dignified but it would only add to the show; he slid his hands down her back and onto her ass. Just to really sell it, naturally. No doubt she was kneading his chest and shoulders for the same reason. 
Damn, she even tasted like chocolate, the little minx. He’d be willing to bet she did that on purpose.
Beside them, Rose practically had to stuff both fists in her mouth to keep herself from screaming. She looked around and grabbed Mylène’s arm, shaking her as Rose hopped up and down. 
“Rose, what is—oooohhh,” Mylène’s eyes went round as Rose spun her around to face the kissing couple. Rose leaned down and began to hiss excitedly into her ear. “Wait, slow down— what? ” Mylène slapped her own hands over her mouth and looked at Rose. 
“ I know!!” Rose whisper-squealed, reaching up to tug at her short hair with both hands. Both of them looked towards the door, where they could see Juleka letting in Alya and Alix.
“Marinette gave us the slip,” Alya said, rolling her eyes. “Something about needing to pick up a card or some nonsense. She’s looking good, though, which is a good thing for us, right? She’s got this cute little brown dress with pink and she looks like a chocolate strawberry macaroon.” 
“Wait till you see the back,” Alix grinned. “Just these two lace panels that meet between her shoulderblades and the rest is bare. Seriously hot. I’m totally begging her to make...” She trailed off as she looked at Juleka’s face. Juleka sighed.   
“Listen, Alya, I need to tell you—” Juleka began, but Alya interrupted her, her face scrunching up as she looked at something over Juleka’s shoulder.  
“Oh you’re kidding me, I can’t believe she brought him. What is she thinking?” Alya demanded, grabbing Juleka’s arm. “How could you let him in?” Juleka raised her eyebrows, but before she could say anything, Alix had leaned around them to see what Alya was looking at.
“What now?” Alix grumbled. 
“Marinette brought her boytoy,” Alya spat, frustrated. “I can’t believe her.” Juleka nearly laughed at the irony until connections started snapping together in her head. With a feeling of dawning horror, she paused and turned slowly to look behind her, just in time to see her brother sticking his tongue down her friend’s throat. I’ll kill him , she thought. “No wonder she didn’t give me any pushback when I suggested she dress up a little,” Alya muttered, but Juleka barely heard her. 
“Nice,” Alix said, still leaning around Juleka to see, eyebrows raising in appreciation. Then she frowned. “Hold on, isn’t that—” 
At the same time, Juleka blurted “Wait,” and Alix broke off as both she and Alya turned to look at Juleka, who had gone pale. “ That ’ s the guy Marinette went home with? The guy she’s been banging every chance she got since—”  A look of horror crossed her face. “That’s who she’s been telling us—oh, gross. ” She put a hand over her mouth, sure she was about to vomit. “Oh my God, I don’t know what I did to deserve this but I deeply regret whatever it was.” 
“Never mind all that, we have to find a way to get him out of here before your brother shows up,” Alya hissed. 
Juleka groaned and put her face in her hands. 
Alix began to laugh. “I do feel sorry for you,” she told Juleka. “I really do. I definitely wouldn’t want to know any of that about my brother.” She paused, and made a face, turning slightly green. “Oh God, did not need that mental image, and mine’s not even real.” 
“I’m gonna hurl,” Juleka mumbled. “I can’t believe I have to live with this knowledge.”
Across the room, Marinette broke their kiss long enough to ask, breathlessly, “Think they got the point?” Luka glanced up and began to laugh into her hair as she nibbled his collarbone. 
“Juleka’s face is priceless right now.” He dropped his head and licked her neck, before moving his face up to whisper in her ear. “If we don’t get out of here right now I’m going to bust a gut and ruin everything.” 
“Then by all means, let’s go,” she giggled. “Tell me the next time they look over.” 
Luka glanced up. “Now.” 
Marinette slipped her hand between his legs and squeezed, making him jump with a “whoa.” 
“Sorry. Too much?” Marinette whispered. 
“Not if we’re leaving right now,” he grinned back, and let Marinette take his hand, giving him her best bedroom eyes as she backed towards the door, tugging him along. He didn’t even have to feign the dopey look on his face as he stared back at her. As they passed the knot of her friends, all staring saucer-eyed at them, she waved at them.
“Thanks for inviting me, Juleka! Sorry I have to bow out early, but um...I have something to take care of,” Marinette giggled, handing her wine glass to Alix as she kept towing Luka towards the door. He smirked at Juleka and winked.
“I’ll text you about dinner,” he called over his shoulder, laughing, and then grabbed Marinette’s ass just before they stepped out of the door.
“Holy fuck,” Alix muttered, still gaping at the door. “Was that really Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” She began to laugh. “I am so fucking proud.” 
“This isn’t funny!” Alya hissed. “This is a disaster!” 
“Oh, it’s hilarious,” Alix gasped, barely able to breathe, and Rose and Mylène nodded, both giggling. Rose squealed, bouncing on her toes. 
“This is amazing, I can’t believe it, it’s like fate or something—”
“I’m not sure that’s how fate works.” Mylène was trying to hold in her laughter for Alya’s sake. “But they certainly seem happy together.” 
Juleka, still looking a little green, put her hand on Alya’s shoulder before Alya could retort. “Look, it’s fine. You don’t have to worry about her. Luka’s the only person on the planet who’s a bigger sap than Marinette. If he’s into her, he’s all in.” Remembering the way Luka had been glowing when he’d talked about his new girl—when he talked about Marinette —she managed a tiny smile despite her nausea. If Luka got his way maybe she’d have Marinette for a sister-in-law after all. 
It was wiped away a second later as Alix guffawed, “Oh, she loves him being all in,” and Juleka groaned. 
“I need alcohol now ,” she grumbled. “I am going to give him so much shit in the wedding speech to make up for this.”
***
Outside, Luka and Marinette got to the elevators, and then collapsed against the wall in a brief fit of giggles.
“That was brilliant,” Marinette laughed, squeezing Luka’s arm. “I’m so embarrassed but it was so worth it, did you see Alya’s face?” 
“Juleka’s gonna kill me,” Luka chortled. “I can’t wait. Come here.” He pulled her close and kissed her, softer and more carefully than he had inside, and Marinette hummed with pleasure. Not that she hadn’t been enjoying their sloppy makeout, but this was more Luka’s style, and since she loved Luka, she—Marinette paused, and pulled back to look at him, biting her lip as he blinked and smiled softly at whatever he saw in her face. Marinette took a breath.
“I love you,” she said, keeping her eyes on his, though her pulse hammered in her veins. She hadn’t thought his eyes could get any softer, but he looked at her as if she was the greatest treasure in the world as he cupped her cheek and laid a soft kiss on her lips.  
“I love you too,” he said roughly, and gathered her up in his arms, squeezing her tight, lifting her off her feet as he squeezed her hard. 
Marinette giggled into his shoulder. “Poor Alya,” she muttered. “So wrong and so right at the same time.” She pulled back and kissed him again. “Take me home, before someone catches us making out in the hallway.” 
“Too late, dudes.” 
They both looked up, and Marinette’s mouth fell open as she saw Nino stepping out of the elevator with a pained expression. “Does the phrase get a room mean anything to you guys?” 
“Oh,” Marinette ducked her head sheepishly. “Sorry, Nino. By the way, this is Luka. He’s...Juleka’s brother?” 
Nino blinked, and then groaned. “Oh, shit.” 
Marinette giggled. “We’re um...we’re leaving now. Uh...Alya might be a teensie bit—” She held up her pinched fingers. “...stressed?” 
Nino rolled his eyes, but reached back to catch the elevator door for them before it closed. “Guess I’m on damage control,” he sighed, but with a grin. “Come on, get out of here.”  Needing no further encouragement, Marinette pulled Luka into the elevator. “Bring him to dinner or something next time,” Nino called as he let the door close. “We can’t keep meeting like this.” 
In the elevator, Luka and Marinette looked at each other. “Oops,” she whispered, and they both broke down laughing. Luka hugged her close, and Marinette sighed. “You know,” she mused. “As far as mistakes go…” She smiled up at him. “You’re the best one I ever made.” 
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informationsorter · 3 years
Text
Let's talk about self diagnosing.
(This is purely a personal opinion piece.)
CW: Descriptions of hypothetical physical injury.
So I'm going to start off by immediately settling your minds - I believe self diagnosis can be both good and bad. I’m not here to judge, gatekeep, or vilify. *************************************************************
A quick overview of the sections: 3 problems/examples. 5 questions/opinions.
 *************************************************************
Determining that you have an issue, does not mean that it is the only issue.
Lets start with a hypothetical example where the self diagnosis is obviously correct:
- You've fallen down the stairs. - You can see a bone sticking out of your leg. - You deduce that you have broken your leg.
This is almost certainly accurate, as there is no healthy explanation for the visible evidence.
However, this may not be the whole story.
What we’re really doing in this situation is identifying symptoms and possible/probably causes.
The symptoms are: - Pain. - Visible evidence of a broken bone. - Visible evidence of wounded skin. - Probably experiencing shock - Pale, cold, clammy skin. Shallow, rapid breathing. Anxiety. Rapid heartbeat. Etc.
The probable diagnosis: A broken leg bone.
When you arrive at the hospital, they will do an x-ray. They may discover additional injuries, for instance the bone may be broken in several places, a tendon may have been severed.
Their treatment of your issues relies on the full knowledge that they are able to learn via their tests. If they (somehow) were to treat only your broken bone and the flesh wound, you would likely end up with further health problems as the extra broken bones were not set properly, and the severed tendon would not heal on it's own.
This is a rather ridiculous example of course, but that's why I started with it.
You may believe that you know what the issue is, but if you do not have the right equipment/training, you may not be able to identify the full extent of the issue.
Even if you know what the issue is, you may not be able to determine the full impact of it.
For example: - You notice that whenever you eat citrus, your mouth and tongue start tingling/going numb. There may be also be symptoms such as sweating, feeling faint, swelling of lips/tongue. You conclude that you are allergic to citrus. You act on this by avoiding citrus. That’s all fine and reasonable. However, with this information you only know that you have a reaction to citrus. You don’t know the full extent. Are you mildly allergic? Are you at risk of anaphylactic shock? Sometimes you do not need to know the full extent (in this example you can simply avoid lemon). But sometimes you DO need to learn everything you can about it, in order to live the best life possible. 
Especially when the issue is not something easily avoided such as a minor food allergy.
You might group all of your symptoms together, leading to you accidentally obscuring one issue by presenting it as another.
(An example using some of my own symptoms & past trauma experiences.)
You have diagnosed yourself with autism based on the following symptoms:
- Difficulty forcing eye contact with others.
- Inability to read the invisible social cues that neurotypical’s can see/read.
- Discomfort/anxiety in social settings / large groups.
- An extreme feeling of mental shutdown in response to loud noises/music.
These could indeed be symptoms of autism, however they can also be symptoms of other issues in play.
For instance, discomfort or anxiety in social settings could be due to an anxiety disorder.
The loud noises/music may mimic sounds from traumatic events - initiating flashbacks or fight/flight/freeze instincts.
You go to a therapist.
Your therapist listens to your concerns and symptoms, and looks for other explanations for these symptoms.
This is to ensure that the diagnosis they give you will be accurate, and thus the treatment you receive will be the most effective treatment possible for you.
If you did not go to the therapist with this, you may have been able to deal with the autism symptoms fairly well, but the anxiety and PTSD would go untreated. Your problems would not go away, because you weren’t treating ALL of your issues.
When do I believe it is acceptable to self diagnose without seeking professional verification of your self diagnosis?
- When the issue/symptoms do not affect your life in any substantial way;
- When the issue is self evident;
- When there is no indication that there is an unseen element;
- When the issue does not require urgent or extensive treatment.
Eg: Mild allergy to citrus, which can easily be avoided in your daily life.
In this sort of case, I believe it is important to stay aware of the symptoms and immediately seek a professional opinion if there is a change in severity, frequency, or perceived cause, of these symptoms.
Eg: One day you have a drink that had a lemon wedge on the rim, and the symptoms are far stronger, or appear far sooner, than they used to.
Or:
One day you have the same reaction, but you did not consume any citrus.
When do I believe that it is helpful to ask a professional to confirm/refute your self assessment?
Always.
There may be situations where the professional can’t offer any treatment (eg: a mild food allergy, where avoiding it is all that can be done). But if you feel anxiety over the uncertainty of it, and you want a professional assessment, diagnosis, or testing, you are of course entitled to it.
Whether it pinpoints a cause, or rules out a cause, finding out for sure will increase the chances of you receiving appropriate treatment.
Additionally, professional tests and assessments can identify previously unnoticed symptoms and/or issues.
(Such as additional injuries in example 1, or separate disorders in example 3.)
Do I believe that you should tell your health professional that you have self-diagnosed / self-assessed your symptoms?
Yes.
Especially with mental health issues, where your therapist’s assessment of you may be affected erroneously by them noticing that you are holding something back.
They may believe you are uncomfortable with them, or have some trust issues which you may not have.
If you simply tell your therapist that you have recorded your symptoms and searched for answers on your own, the therapist will be able to make a more accurate assessment of you.
It also gives them a good starting point, as they immediately know that the issue is concerning to you, and that you are ready to seek help for it.
Any health professional worth their training should be able to understand that you seeking explanations for your symptoms is natural, and should be willing to look into something that you are concerned about.
Eg: I told my GP (physical health doctor) that I was concerned about a specific lung condition which seemed to fit symptoms that I had been experiencing for over a decade. He listened, he asked further questions, he performed tests for the condition I had brought up, and he performed tests for other possible explanations.
In the end he determined that I did not have that condition, and we went from there.
Why do health professionals dislike self-diagnosis?
The issue with self diagnosis is that a patient can become convinced that they have something that they do not actually have.
This can lead to the patient: - Misinterpreting symptoms - Ignoring symptoms which do not fit their self-diagnosis - Unintentionally manifesting somatic symptoms which fit the self-diagnosis (this refers to a patient believing they have a condition, and their body beginning to show those symptoms. This is not the same as purposefully faking.) - Refusing testing for something other than their self-diagnosed issue - Refusing to accept that there may be a different issue - Refusing to accept that there may be additional issues - Resorting to self-help remedies which may be ineffective or actively dangerous to the patient
They aren’t just being difficult or elitist - they are concerned that your self-diagnosis may impact their ability to accurately diagnose and help you.
This is a particular concern when the health professional doesn’t know you well enough to be able to determine how much your belief will impact your symptoms, or whether you will be open to treatment if they determine a diagnosis which conflicts with your self-diagnosis.
Your health professional has YOUR health and safety in mind.
(If you believe this isn’t true, you should seek a second opinion.)
Should your health professional just accept your self-diagnosis?
It is your therapist’s duty to independently assess your symptoms, and possible causes for those symptoms.
It is not an attack on you, it is not a sign of distrust.
Think of it like scientists - they don’t just say “oh well that guy’s experiment showed these results, so they must be correct.” They go out and duplicate the experiment to check their results against the original results.
Yes, it’s not a perfect metaphor. No two people’s life experiences are the same. No two people’s brains will react identically to the same thing.
But the spirit is the same - in both cases, doing the extra work is to ensure that the stated result is accurate, NOT to discredit or demean the person who originally stated it.
  What if you are certain you have a certain issue, and will not be persuaded otherwise?
I urge you to rethink this, and open your mind.
You want to heal from whatever it is that is interfering with your best life.
You want answers.
You want validation that such-and-such issue isn’t a personal failing but a neuro-divergency.
Those are great goals, but the best way to find the truth is to be open to explanations that you may not like.
And the only way to know it’s the truth, is to be honest and objective about yourself.
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racheloveyunho · 3 years
Text
Till Death do us part - 1
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Y/N grew up in a wealthy family, she always was seen as a beautiful and smart kid and was most likely to take her father’s place as the CEO of one of the most important companies in South Korea. However, after the death of her mother, Y/N’s family slowly started to break apart. Her father was always working to forget his uncalled pain while his kids were left alone at home.
She was 17 years old when her life took a sudden turn when she met him in a dark alley. He was a bloody mess, bruises everywhere but behind blood and dirt, she could see his beautiful features and his addictive gaze. Maybe she should have walked away, maybe she shouldn’t have helped him, but the moment his gaze locked with hers, she was already his.
Choi San was his name.
Genre: Mafia AU, angst, fluff, stranger to lovers
Words: 2486
 TW: Y/N is described as an OC. Please be aware that this story will contain a lot of triggering content such as smut, blood, death, murder, drug, kidnapping, etc. Do not read if you are under a legal age!
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Chapter 1
 I still wonder what would have happened if I didn’t meet him during this gloomy night? We were young and I was way too brave for my own good. Maybe it was my faith or maybe it was a sheer coincidence but now, I know that I will love him till death do us part.
---------
 5 years ago.
 "Hey Y/N, wake up sleepyhead! It’s time to go to school and I will surely not wait for the princess to wake up" my brother yelled loudly from the first floor, waking me up in the process.
I groaned and shifted uncomfortably in my bed; it was too much noise at such an early time of the day. My long-browned hair was messy from the last night, as always. I was the type of girl to move a lot during my sleep and my morning head was always a funny one, swollen, with small eyes and with some of my lightly curled hair stuck in my mouth. After five minutes of rethinking my life decisions, I found enough motivation to get out of my bed and walked down the stairs.
"Why the hell did I agree to help other students during holidays, huh?” I asked my brother as I lazily rubbed my tummy.
“Maybe because you are too dumb to say no to your teachers?” he answered, his mouth full of food.
“Do you mind keeping your mouth shut while you are eating? It’s disgusting.” I shook my head disapprovingly.
I headed toward the kitchen to get a cup of fresh milk. Jin, my brother, childishly opened his mouth wide to show me the content of it. I let out a long “Ew!” before smashing his arm playfully.
“No, but seriously Y/N. There’s no use to be brilliant at school if that means you have to help your classmates with their studies during holidays” Jin said after taking a sip of his coffee.
“Yeah, but the teacher who asked me this favor told me that he will write a recommendation for me if I agreed to help him” I answered.
“You don’t even need a recommendation, we’re from a rich family” Jin mumbled to himself but it was loud enough for me to hear it.
 He wasn’t totally wrong and I knew it. We were born with a silver spoon in our mouth. We were “cake eater” as the other kids used to call us when we were younger, we never knew what it felt like to run out of money and everyone at school was jealous of me because of that.
But they didn’t know. No one knew how hard it actually was for me and my brother.
My mother passed away 2 years ago, and since then, my father didn’t stay at home with us longer than a week straight. He was always working, working, and working again, his job had literally become his life. He was one of the richest men in Korea and still, he was always eager for more and worked every day and night for it.
He wasn’t a good father for me and Jin. He never made any compliments to us, all he was able to do was to pressure us to be as perfect as possible or at least perfect enough to not ashamed him and his reputation. Unlike my brother, I wanted to hear my father say that he was proud of me, just for once. That’s why I was trying hard to be the perfect daughter, with good grades, good manners, and good appearance but even if I tried my best, it wasn’t enough for him.
 “Do you know why I’m working so hard, Jin?” I asked him, voice as soft as a whisper, almost not daring to tell the truth.
“Why?” Jin put a hand on the top of mine, a sign of comfort since he already knew my upcoming answer.
“I don’t want to follow his rules forever. I’m still a minor so I had to stick at them but when I’ll turn 20, I will leave this house and will never come back” I sadly stated, “I want to marry a man I’m in love with, I want to do a job I like and most of all, I don’t want our father to commend my life.”
 Jin tightened his grip on my hand. He understood me, he understood me too well. We were indeed rich but we were far from being happy. Jin was 6 years older than me which means he was already an adult. He wanted to leave this house as much as me but couldn’t bring himself to do so and leave me behind.
Unlike me, Jin has never been a good student, he always has been considered a failure to our father, and even if he finally was able to run away from here, he stayed there for me. I was really lucky to have a brother like him and I was well aware of that.
 I took my breakfast and came back to my room to take a quick shower and get ready for this day I knew would be exhausting.
My brother was already waiting in his car. Jin took me to school as often as he could. He was working on a supermarket he owned and even if he was pretty busy, he wanted to spend his mornings with his “sweet baby sister” as he liked to call me.
I am indeed lucky to have a brother like him.
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 8 pm, it was already late when I heard the bell ring for the last time today. I was the last one to leave the class as I helped my teacher with the preparation of some material for the next day. It didn’t bother me too much, I wasn’t in a hurry to get home since I knew my dad was finally coming back home from his work.
In all honesty, I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t miss him at all, even after all this time. I wandered here and there even though the street was already pitch black.
 “Oh! It’s been a while since I last went to the haunted alley!” I happily exclaimed to myself.
I knew every nook and cranny of Seoul, I grew up there after all. My favorite place was the haunted alley. As its name suggests and according to some beliefs, that path would be haunted.
It was an old story I heard with my friends when I was less than 10 years old. A grandma from our neighborhood scolded us and told us not to stay there because there was a woman who had been murdered in the walkway and that since then, one could hear her cry every night.
A simple way to scare naïve kids you may think, and you are more than right. However, this story is known by everyone, not just by kids. That’s the reason why I love this place, thanks to all of these rumors, no one uses this path except me. It was like my secret place.
 I walked around the alley with heavy steps, thinking about my father and his upcoming lecture about how to be a good girl. My thoughts were suddenly stopped by the voice of two men who seemed to be fighting each other. I stayed still for a moment, trying to figure out where the noises were coming from.
“You piece of shit! And you claim yourself as the Boss” son?” One voice laughed.
I hid in the dark and saw what could have been mistaken with a scene from a horror movie. Between two old houses, a tall man was beating up a boy who seemed to be around my age.
I felt shivers down my spine but before I could even think straight, my body started to move with its own will.
“Hey! Let him go!” I shouted, my voice betraying me by showing how scared I really was.
 I moved closer to the two men, I could now see them more clearly.
The young boy was sitting on the ground, badly bleeding, whereas the tall man was standing in front of him, blood on his hand and his nose broken.
They were watching me. The silence was heavy, the only thing I could hear was the beating of my racing heart and the shake of my knees that were begging me to run away from this place. The silence was soon replaced by an ominous laugh.
“Wow. What a beauty! Is she your girlfriend? Huh?” The tall man laughed and hit the youngest on his stomach before coming closer to me.
He came closer, until he was in front of me. I had a better view of his poor state. He wasn’t less bleeding than the other man, his blood was actually covering his whole face.
I don’t know what had taken into me at this exact moment, the adrenaline was rushing in my veins and even though my feet were stuck on the ground, unable to move, my hand reached the pepper spray I always carried in my bag. Before the man could react, I used my weapon against him.
When the chemical product had reached his eyes, he screamed and placed his hands on his face, trying desperately to soothe the pain. I took advantage of the situation and kicked him as hard as I could on his crotch before he fell loudly on the ground.
I quickly grabbed the boy by his arm and helped him stand up. He was badly injured but followed me without any complaint.
 I was panting when I reached a lighted street. We stopped there, trying to catch our breath.  I turned around to face the man I was still holding and my breath hitched in my throat, not from the run I previously had but because of how beautiful this man looked.
“Are you okay? What is your name?” I asked him but he simply stayed silent, staring at me with his piercing eyes.
I took a better look at his features, he was really handsome with a well-defined face. He wasn't older than me but he hadn't the body of a teenager either. His broad shoulders and his arms muscles could be seen without any effort from him. His dark hair was harmonizing with the dark of his eyes and his dimples were visible as the border of his lips turned upright in an inviting smirk.
How can someone like him be involved in such a fight?
“The sight is at your taste?” he giggled, his smile spreading wider.
I finally took notice of my staring when I heard him laugh. I must say it was the most beautiful laugh I ever heard, slightly high-pitched but almost bewitching.
“I wasn’t staring!” I shouted from embarrassment. Fortunately, the darkness of the night was covering the redness on my cheeks.
“Sure, you weren’t” He added, amused by my reaction “I’m San. Choi San. I didn’t need your help earlier but thank you, I’m glad you rescued me”
He came closer to me and gave me a sincere smile, showing even more his dimples.
My heart was going crazy in my chest. This boy seemed small earlier compared to the other man but he was way taller than me, maybe 7 inches taller.
“You’re welcome”
I was a bit intimidated by him but I dared not to look away. He had something special, an aura that seemed as dangerous as comforting. His gaze was intense and deep, it was like he was looking through me, memorizing every detail of my face.
He didn’t move and didn’t talk for at least 2 minutes and even if I was feeling uncomfortable, I did my best not to let him know.
“Where is your house?” he finally asked after what felt like an eternity.
He startled me with his sudden question, I didn’t expect him to talk this soon. Why did he want to know where I lived? He probably wanted to walk me home and I would have gladly let this handsome guy walk me home if I hadn’t met him in an odd situation.
‘But he is really handsome…’  I thought, sighing softly, making San arch an eyebrow.
“It’s okay, I live near here, no need to walk me home. You can go ahead…” I said “Go ahead to…the hospital, your house or…go murdering someone…whichever comes first” I added, lowering my voice at the end of my sentence.
His face changed into a surprised expression “I wasn’t going to walk you home, don’t worry”
I sighed in relief even if I felt a bit disappointed, maybe he wasn't that bad after all.
“I want to stalk you” he stared at me with his beautiful smile as if it was the most natural thing to say.
‘What the fuck?’
“Sure, stalking me haha, it was obvious, silly me!” I gently hit my head and laughed awkwardly, taking a step back from him.
He laughed sweetly and took my chin between his thumb and his index to lift my face up. His mouth came closer to my ear and he whispered a small “Just joking” before turning his heels back and leaving me, alone, in the dark street.
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  I was finally back home. Fortunately for me, my dad hadn’t noticed me since he was already sleeping on the couch.
I quickly went upstairs to my room and collapsed on my bed, my mind still processing what had happened earlier. It was scary to say the least but fascinating at the same time. I was still confused even after showering. This San had a deep effect on me, not only mentally but physically too.
“Choi San…” I muttered before closing my eyes and drifting into a deep sleep.
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This is my first story, it’s bad but I’ll try to improve myself!
This series will be uploaded slowly since I don't have a lot of time.
Thank you for reading!
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secretbangtnn · 3 years
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summary : Getting a letter from a very prestigious school was something that you could have never expect, and even more unexpected was that you didn’t need to pay a penny for it. Beautiful news that were too good to be true, but oh how stupid you were to not question such a perfect chance to get away from your shitty life.
notes:
Guys i would be more than happy for some feedback, its my first time writing in english and im more than nervous. Im not sure if what i wrote is good or even understandable. + i would be more than happy to start an ask game with this book
Chapter one
Living or in your case existing was always somehow calm. Everything you do had a plan and everyday had the same pattern, like a boring vase that stood in the same kitchen you actually were. Blue marble tiles awfully similar to tears that run down the woman's cheeks, making them a little bit more redder than before.
Not that they weren't that color before, always blushy and ready to be seen. And maybe that's why you had that sour taste in your mouth while watching them, knowing that your own were as beautifully red as hers.
"why?" a simple question sounding now like the last call for help. Voice groggy and nose runny making the sight before even more unbearable to look at. But why weren't you moved, why the tears didn't make you guality like they should. "you planned this?! You planned to leave me alone like a selfish bastard!"
Looking down didn't seem like the best option, knowing that it could just take the nerves in the room to a whole new level but you could not stop yourself. She was always one to guilt trip you into everything.
A little shout left the chapped mouth making you jump a little while lifting your head simultaneously. Sight before you seems to worsen and as you took a step back the woman took another two in the end catching your small wrist in her clawed hand.
Hissing and looking dead in her eyes made you somehow more conscious of the whole situation.
“I didn’t know.” and you really did not. Gritting your teeth so hard that it felt like some of them could fall out at any moment seems to stop you from doing sudden movements.
Breathe in and breathe out.
“Of course you think I am stupid! Just like your father, bringing me to insanity step by step. But that’s what you wanted from the beginning, am I right?”
“Stop being delusional mom” Oh how hard it was to say the name of that woman. Mother of child that she forgets most of the time, only to remember at the most shitty time. Today was exactly one of the examples of why your dream was just to wake up not seeing or better not having to think of that woman.
“Am i now? It’s you who wants me like this.” She laughed, throwing her head back in the motion. Elegant column of her neck now easy to see, showing purple and red marks similar to those from claws. “You thought I would not know, you thought you could just run away like a scared little child. Now tell me, how long were you planning this o-or maybe it was your father’s plan from the beginning.”
“I didn’t know about it, I didn’t even apply to any of the schools and you are the one that should know that.” toxicity leaked from your voice in big streams, but it was something that u could not stop at that moment. She was doing it again, acting crazy and psycho making everyone question why she wasnt getting hospital help yet.
“So you are saying that it’s my fault? You were supposed to care for me, for your ill mother, not that you are useful for anything else. How could you even think of disappearing, going to school so far away and leaving me to rot here myself like you were not meant to end like this too!”
Snatching your hand you looked at the woman once again, tears in eyes making you look fragile. Her own body looking weak, nearly dead limbs hanging from a malnourished body, showing the world wrack of a woman she was. Complexion ill looking, but what was not in her case, pale looking with green, purple and blue spots everywhere the skin was shown.
“Why are you being so shocked? Don’t tell me you thought you were going to leave someday.” Her laugh made you grit your teeth, jaw starting to hurt from the tension you were keeping. “Once again you showed how foolish you are, just like your father, just like that scumbag.”
“You are insane.”
“That we already know, so why don’t you come back to your room and start preparing for tomorrow. I want to eat a really nice breakfast next morning and maybe then after we can talk about what job you are going to have to make a living for us.”
And that was your sign to go, not looking back at the sick smirk on your mother mouth momocking your whole being. Step by step you saw the old stairs, in some place missing the color. Your room was nothing special, at least that what people said, for you it was some type of heaven. Peace that you could only catch while being there, laying on your old bed while looking at the dull ceiling.
Closing the door, you exchaled a heavy breath, sliding down on the flat surface of the door. Eyes closed like you have always done after an intense situation, today was not an exception to that.
Asking yourself what just happened, how and why. Unconsciously you looked at the letter beside you, laying so weirdly on the piece of not carpeted floor. The big fault in a little piece of paper. It was funny how this thing made such a bad influence on your life just by arriving on your doorstep.
The fact that the only person you could compare yourself to now is a story character of the name Harry was nearly not as funny as it sounded. However how u can explain getting a letter from a prestigious school you for sure did not apply or even looked up not even thinking about getting a scholarship to having a chance to think about it.
By any chance you were not stupid, but your ambitions flew away with another day in this shit hole you called home. Main reason being your own mother, which not only made it clear but for sure would kill you faster than let you leave.
You took the letter, keeping it in your hand like some unknown object you have never seen before. The texture itself is weird, making you shiver in some way. Big letter stood on the black piece of paper meaning only one thing.
Oh yes, that definitely was unsetting.
You remember clearly the first time you read the words that were put in this blank envelope. Big chance waiting for you, welcoming you with big arms and assuring you that you have nothing to be scared of.
And maybe those words were the one that brought you to that situation. It was not even three hours after the fight with your mother. Sun long down now moon shining on your pale face. Packing everything you tried to be quiet and quick hoping that your mother again ate too much of those big pills.
Big bag now laying down on your bed with a small letter beside it looking as innocent as before. You were not even seventeen making decisions that would cost you more then you can imagine. Living hell with possibility of going to another but in that moment nothing mattered like running away from old monsters.
Floor cracked under your feet even thought you were considered as a lightweight. How could you not be so malnourished when your mother forced you to teach yourself how to cook, never letting you eat before her. You tried to reason her moods or harsh behaviour to you but no matter how many times you tried it always ended in another reason why your life was just simply sad.
Running away was a good decision. You tried to say it so many times to actually believe in those empty words. The truth was that you were an innocent little child, not even a full adult that has never tasted a social life or had a friend.
“It will be alright.” Taste on your tongue after saying this a little sour with a heavy backpack danglin on your right arm. One step and then another, you touched the cold handle of your white doors. It was the first move to make and probably one of the hardest.
Bag on your arm is even more heavy making you realise what is happening. Silent breath flowed past your lips preparing you for your next step.
You pushed it closing it carefully while hoping that the oldish touch to the wood wont make an appearance in a loud noise. Silly smile now seen on your face with big relief in the back of your mind. The hardest part was just before you.
Your mothers room, not fully closed - like always, she needed to make sure nobody would come uninvited. It was just one of her weird characteristics that came with such a messed up mental health.
Small noise came out under your feet, not loud enough to wake up the woman next door but audible enough to be heard from closer.
Photos all around you telling you that you were getting near the main door. Little pictures with you inside faded from ears of hanging, making you stop for a while.
Smooth glass now under your fingers as you touch a specific photo. You and your mother being in the green garden of your grandmas. Happy vibe and pretty smiles now nearly unbelievable to witness on either of faces. It hurted or maybe it was just the adrenaline escaping from a sudden stop.
Oh how the sweet monet was quickly destroyed by the harsh noise from one of the rooms, and you exactly know which one. Loud thud rang out in the quietness of the house, making the silence even more noticable. Your breath escaped leaving you in a big ball of nerves and anxiety.
One...two...three
Silence like the one before big storms but maybe just this time it was not that. You couldn't withdraw now, you were too far and too close to the feeling of freeness. So you did the only thing that came to your mind.
Catching a sliding backpack, you turned to the door in front of you, knowing that just behind them is waiting something so much bigger than your old mother. How stupid for you to not rethink your decision, and believing your innocent mind that its just a good thing, better life that could only make you happier.
So you did it, you took the heavy steps that echoed in the narrow corridor. Light breeze touched your face, and just like the first time you gasped at the feeling. Door closing not that gently as you started running as fast as you could.
Silly smile now on your face with a bouncing bag on your shoulders keeping you on the hard ground. It was feeling similar to the first sight of the ocean or the first taste of sweet ice cream on a hot summery morning. You were in ecstasy choked by the overwhelming emotions.
And maybe because of that you were completely unaware of the danger that waited for you on that chilly night. How could you think about it when everything seemed so distracting almost as you were dreaming and in that moment you probably were closer to believing in this being a slumber.
So as you sat on the cold bench of one of the parks near your home, realization finally came silencing your beating heart. Colder weather now felt more real, as it bit your rosy cheeks. You shivered, keeping your backpack on your lap, trying to hide behind it from a chilly wind that seemed like it came from every side.
Being alone hit you like a truck and the little noises of the night didn't help your rising nerver. You started to lose your breath, feeling your tears sliding down your numb cheeks. It was terrifying now with the knowledge of your wellbeing and adrenaline wearing off with every second.
“Mom?” A silent plea that came out of your lips with shakiness that was more than noticeable. You didn't know why you said that, but the woman was probably the only person you knew. Such a sad truth that you needed to understand. You were alone now, and with that thought a more shameless sobs left your mouth with an occasional whimper.
You were sure you were going to end up dead. That you won't see the new sunset with how your body shivered. Not knowing how life worked or what is bad or good you were a little lamb that waited for hungry wolves to eat her whole.
And maybe one of those predators just saw his next meal. Long strides brought him just in front of you. Your sobs are too loud to make you hear his boots coming closer and closer. His breath just centimeters away from your head, brushing your hair like the not forgotten wind.
“Sweetheart?” It was a calming voice, not too deep but definitely belonging to a grown man. Your posture momentaly stiffened, as your closed eyes now looked at the big leather shoes before you. Your whole body is not moving, only shivering because of the chilly weather and light clothes. It was funny how suddenly you have forgotten about being alone, now wanting just this, wishing for all of this to be a big nightmare.
A deep sight left man's lips reminding you about the realness of the whole situation. You could not move, completely scared, your fingers clutched the bad praying for something to happen. The plan to just act like you were not there, ignoring the man fastly ended, when he sighted once again and crouched just to your eye level.
Deep brown eyes, looking at you with nothing but softness. If you didn’t know better you would say the man looked as if he knew you, cared and was in big relief finding you. But your mother's words echoed in your head, making you believe that every man walking on this planet is bad.
“What are you doing here sweetheart?” Once more this deep voice pierced you. Your mouth opens to answer, deeply knowing that nothing will come out. You just looked in his dark eyes, wishing that maybe he will be the one who can read minds. His eyes now on you, more concerned than before, observing your shivering body.
He was tall and broad for sure, towering over your figure surprisingly even while crouching down. His huge shoulders covered by a creamy coat which now was getting dirty by laying down on a pavement, as it partly hid his expensive looking boots.
Too distracted you didn't notice his hand coming to touch your red cheek, now gently stroking the redness of your skin.
“What a poor soul, so cold and left alone without a coat. Tell me sweetheart would you come and let me warm you a little?”
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makeste · 3 years
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BnHA Chapter 291: The Endeavor Pamphlet
Previously on BnHA: Dabi showed up atop Gigantomachia’s back and was all “you’ll never guess who I really am!” and the readers humored him and were all “who?” and he was all “TODOROKI TOUYA” and we were all “WOW └(・。・)┘ OH MY GOSH I WOULD NEVER HAVE GUESSED”, except for Shouto and Enji who were GENUINELY SHOCKED. Anyway so Touya was all “and guess what I’m doing right now!” and before anyone could even try, he was all, “STREAMING MY EMMY-NOMINATED MINISERIES ‘HELLO, I’M EVIL BUT ALSO TRAGIC AND SEXY, NOW LET ME TELL YOU ALL ABOUT MY DAD WHO SUCKS’’, THAT’S WHAT.” And everyone was all “oh my god” and Touya was all “ヽ(⌐■_■)ノ♪” for basically the rest of the chapter, and that’s pretty much it! Oh, wait, except for the part where he also doused himself in bleach in a fit of pure theatrics, which is actually pretty much the main takeaway from the entire chapter really because it was just wild af. ANYWAYS.
Today on BnHA: Horikoshi introduces Baby Touya, the world’s most enchantingly sweet character, and is immediately all, “I sure can’t wait to tell you guys all about how his fucking jaw burnt off.” Thankfully he doesn’t (YET), and we cut back to the present pretty quickly, where Dabi explains how he took all of his brain cells that should have been used to stop him from pouring bleach over his head, and instead put them all toward his big brain plot of releasing an elaborate video detailing Endeavor’s various abuses and crimes, and even throwing Hawks under the bus as well because WHY NOT. He then leaps off of Gigantomachia’s back (like I said, no brain cells) all set to blast them with a Prominence Burn, only to be stopped by none other than THE LEGEND HIMSELF, MOTHERFUCKING BEST, PRETTIEST, NICEST, MOST OUTSTANDING MOTHERFUCKING JEANIST. Who’s no doubt outraged by the crime against hair he witnessed only moments earlier. GO GETTIM JEANY BOI.
so I haven’t had time to answer any of them because this has been the stupidest week, but I just wanted to tell you guys that I received no fewer than nine asks about Dabi’s hair. which, in a week filled with election memes and tumblr’s most cursed fandom briefly rising back up from the dead, is a pretty impressive feat for him if you ask me. like, I know I was making fun of it basically nonstop, but it sure did generate a lot of discussion so maybe I should rethink my opinions on Dabi’s PR strategies now, idk
anyway. it’s Saturday. time to catch up on this shit. let’s see how fucked the Todorokis are
OH NO HE’S CUTE
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HOLY SHIT THIS IS TOO MUCH TO FUCKING PROCESS. I’M JUST TRYING TO ENJOY MY DAY HORIKOSHI, ARE YOU REALLY GOING TO TRAUMATIZE THIS POOR CHILD RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SALAD
“thanks for being all right” the fuck
who allowed this child to be so cute. I’m serious. who signed off on this
how could a child this adorable possibly want to murder his equally adorable baby brother. please, your honor. there must be some mistake here
guess how prepared I am to read all about Touya’s tragic past. mm. that’s right. zero ready. none ready
anyway. TWO THOUSAND DEGREES LOLOLOL. NO TRACE OF A CORPSE HOW CONVENIENT. A PIECE OF HIS LOWER JAW BONE FFFFMSGHKLSh. LOVELY. LOVELY
LMAOOOOO
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listen you guys. I just want to take a moment to appreciate that Horikoshi Kouhei did one of two things here. either (1) he planned it out FROM THE VERY START that Touya would be born with red hair Because Fire Powers, but would then have his hair turn white due to trauma, thus making the Dabi/Touya connection very slightly less obvious, although Let’s Be Real Who Are We Kidding. OR, (2) the anime got it wrong and gave him red hair, and rather than allowing this plot hole to continue to exist, Horikoshi took it upon himself to concoct this elaborate storyline and pretend it was never a plot hole at all! in which case I sure hope someone at Bones is sending him a VERY nice Christmas card this year. got this man sweeping up all your messes for you. you’re just lucky he has some sort of wild compulsion to address these things
anyways!!
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FATHER AND SON. how sweet. :| still zero percent ready for any of this btw
STOP BEING CUTE
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THIS IS RIDICULOUS. I’M SO MAD RIGHT NOW. HE IS THE SINGLE CUTEST CHARACTER IN THE ENTIRE SERIES, and do you even know how many other baby characters I’m betraying in order to say that?! baby Kacchan, baby Deku, baby Ochako, baby Shouto, Eri, baby Hawks. I’M LOOKING YOU DEAD IN THE EYE RIGHT NOW AND TELLING YOU THAT BABY TOUYA IS CUTER THAN ALL OF THOSE PLEBS. AND YOU’RE LOOKING BACK AT ME RIGHT NOW ALL “YEAH IT SURE IS A PITY ABOUT HIS JAW MELTING OFF THOUGH.” THAT’S IT, I QUIT THE SERIES
and Enji’s smiling at him. he’s so proud of him. but then Touya won’t be able to do it, and Enji’s gonna stop training him, and Touya’s gonna feel like a failure and keep pushing himself in order to try and win his dad’s affections back, because that’s all kids fucking want, all they want is just love, that’s fucking it, you couldn’t just give him that?? and then he’s gonna immolate himself fflkdlskfh THERE YOU SEE HORIKOSHI, I KNOW THE WHOLE STORY ALREADY, YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THE WHOLE “SHOW THEM THE DEAD DOG” THING YET AGAIN YOU PIECE OF SHIT
OH SNAP THERE GOES THE TWIN THEORY. R.I.P.
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BABY FUYUMI. PRETTY CUTE. NOT AS CUTE AS TOUYA THOUGH. HEY LOOK, NO REASON TO GET MAD AT ME I’M JUST STATING A FACT HERE
YEAH THIS IS GONNA GO REAL WELL OH BOY
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I keep pressing the emergency stop button but this industrial tragedy machine just keeps on chugging along anyway, I’m pretty sure this thing is not up to code
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:| I am so sorry sweet boy, Horikoshi is only getting started with you
FUCKING HELL WITH THIS NARRATION
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but he wasn’t actually a child to you, he was just a little puppet child for you to live vicariously through!! and then you went and did the same fucking thing with Shouto afterwards and never learned your lesson until just six months ago!! fucking hell, Enji
so now he’s all “Touya is dead, that’s an unforgivable lie” fflkdhflk motherfucker does he look dead to you. if you really think that, tumblr and twitter have got a little over five years’ worth of archived theory posts to show you
oh shit Touya’s countering with “it’s an unforgivable truth”, which, damn. I actually think Horikoshi’s dialogue is one of his weaker points as a writer a lot of the time, but that comeback was snappy as fuck
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actually guys, now that I’ve seen how ridiculously fucking cute baby!Touya was, I can almost understand why Shouto and Enji never put the pieces together before lol. any passing similarities would have easily been dismissed on account of he’d need to be at least 10x more adorable in order to get the full resemblance
OH MY GOD
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NOW YOU SLEEP??? SO YOU POINT BLANK REFUSED TO PASS OUT WHILE YOU WERE BUSY MAIMING ALL OF MY FAVORITE CHARACTERS, BUT NOW THAT THERE’S AN OPPORTUNITY TO SEE YOUR REACTION TO THE “YOUR LIEUTENANT WAS SECRETLY RELATED TO ONE OF YOUR WORST ENEMIES THE WHOLE TIME” BOMBSHELL, YOU FINALLY DECIDE TO GET YOUR FORTY WINKS. I SEE
WOW DABI
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I’M SURPRISED YOU DIDN’T ALREADY HAVE YOUR ANCESTRY.COM RESULTS PRINTOUT READY TO FOLD INTO A PAPER AIRPLANE AND ZOOM ON DOWN TO HIM
LOL NEVERMIND
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gotta say, so far The Endeavor Pamphlet is just about as spicy as I could have hoped
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(ETA: Natsuo’s face as he watches his beloved dead brother come back to life only to literally and metaphorically set everything on fire in one fell swoop is :/. why must you do this to me Natsu. can’t you see I’m trying to throw a Welcome Back Jeanist party here.)
HAVE YOU READ THIS?! TODOROKI ENJI ABUSED HIS OWN HEIR, AND DABI WROTE IT DOWN RIGHT THERE
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WELL HE’S NEVER GON’ BE NUMBER ONE NOW / NEVER GON’ BE NUMBER ONE NOW / THAT’S ONE LESS THING TO WORRY ABOUT / THAT’S ONE LESS THING TO WORRY ABOUT
btw I neglected to mention this last week, but yes I do recognize and appreciate that this is Can’t Ya See-kun himself whom Horikoshi has chosen to be the face of this existential crisis which the general public is about to experience. rip CYS-kun
OOF
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excuse me. putting aside the implications of Dabi sharing this context-less murder video of Hawks with the entire world for a moment, I just have to pause for a sec here, because when exactly did he get a chance to edit this all in?? complete with voiceover that seamlessly ties in with the prerecorded footage of him with DNA test results sans shirt?? you’re telling me this motherfucker, with all the smoke that was in the room thanks to his own quirk, somehow got a PERFECT SHOT of the PRECISE MOMENT when Hawks drove his feather knife into Jin’s back, using his MAGIC CAMERA THAT HE I GUESS HAD THE ENTIRE TIME IN THE POUCH RIGHT NEXT TO HIS BLEACH BOTTLE, and then immediately somehow got this very next shot as well FROM AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT ANGLE
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ALL THE WHILE IMMEDIATELY RUNNING THROUGH SCRIPT REVISIONS IN HIS HEAD, WHICH HE THEN PROCEEDED TO RECORD... WHERE, EXACTLY?? WITH SKEPTIC, WHILST RIDING ON MACHIA’S BACK??
AND THIS IS ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF???
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and this after I just wrote that whole long paragraph positively GLOWING about this man’s ability to plug up a plot hole. jfc. just scratch out every damn word I said lol. just forget all of it
are you fucking kidding me, the footage was from the cameras Skeptic planted on Hawks??
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that’s... actually... okay you know what, it still doesn’t make any sense in the slightest, but the determination to address it nonetheless... just, dammit... I feel like I’m constantly at war with myself over whether or not I want to shake this man’s hand or slap him lmao. whatever, then!!
anyway, since Shouto and Enji can’t actually see the damage that Touya is dealing to the hero industry even as they speak, Touya is taking it upon himself to give them the highlights
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I think it’s a testament to how much Endeavor cares about Hawks that he managed to zero in on that comment even amidst all the craziness of his eldest son returning from the dead to announce how he’s been carefully plotting their destruction for years and years. like, he heard “Hawks” and his face immediately went like that. you think he’s worried that Dabi did something to him? because he’d be right to worry lol
so the Endeavor Pamphlet narration is now explaining all about how Hawks totally killed the Number 3 Hero Best Jeanist as well! yep... he sure did... totally...
OH MY GOD WE’RE CUTTING TO HIM AHHHHH
Hawks, that is. lol. not Jeanist. NO, JUST MY POOR HALF-DEAD WINGLESS BABY SON
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NOOOOO HIS LITTLE WING STUMPS. BUT SOMEHOW HIS FACIAL HAIR IS STILL INTACT. OH TO BE AN ANIME PRETTY BOY BEING SET ON FIRE. “HEY, TAKE IT EASY, WATCH THE FACE”
EXCUSE ME WHAT
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interesting! we suspected as much, I think, with the clues that Ending dropped, and the little flashback right after the name reveal. still not clear how Dabi found out about it though!
looooool okay here we go, breaking out the heavy-handed holier-than-thou shit now
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you know, I do find it interesting how trying to model themselves after All Might’s noble Symbol of Peace image has kind of ended up being the heroes’ undoing here. like, I could write a whole essay on this, but what it basically boils down to is that they were all trying too hard to be perfect. All Might went out there and did his thing and was amazing, and so the powers-that-be built an entire system centered around this seemingly-infallible person, and they acted like the system was infallible as well. and so most of the population ended up becoming complacent over the years, and meanwhile the people who were unfortunate enough to fall through the cracks understandably wound up disillusioned and perceiving the heroes as these false idols
anyway, but I think one positive takeaway from this is that the new up-and-coming generation of heroes represent a breakaway from that system. like, imo what we’re witnessing is the downfall of the Perfect Hero, and the rise of the imperfect hero. and this new generation doesn’t shy away from their failures or pretend like they never happened. they pretty much can’t pretend, because their failures are all right out there in the open for everyone to see. Bakugou Katsuki, just to name one example off the top of my very biased head, has had his own personal character journey basically play out right in front of the media’s eyes. his humiliation at the sports festival, his kidnapping by the League, and all of the fallout afterward. this isn’t someone who can ever go out there and convince the world that he’s perfect. but what he can do, instead, is show the world that he’s trying. that he’s trying with everything he has to do his best, to be the best. rather than this untouchable godlike image, it’s instead the image of someone painfully human who is nonetheless striving with everything he’s got to keep moving forward, flaws and all, and work his way to the top
and ultimately I think that’s going to be a much more positive image to send out to the world when all’s said and done. because rather than merely inspiring awe, heroes like that inspire people to take action themselves. or at least that’s what I hope! and not just Bakugou, but the others as well. we’ve got Shouto, whose own personal trauma is being aired in front of the whole nation even as I sit here ranting. we’ve got Deku, who cries at the drop of a hat, and who fought to become a hero despite being quirkless (and I think it’s only a matter of time before that eventually becomes public knowledge as well). tl;dr because I’m getting way too long-winded here, but these kids have effectively been humanized in a way that the old generation never was, and I think that’ll go a long way towards building trust between them and the people they’ll someday be protecting, and inspiring the next generation in hopefully a much healthier way
anyway so where were we. ...oh yes, Dabi was explaining that heroes only protect themselves, and is presumably building up to his grand conclusion of “therefore you should all just let the villains take over and burn down the world”
omfg. YOU GUYS
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DOES CAN’T YA SEE-KUN’S SHARK FRIEND ACTUALLY CALL HIM “CAN’T YA SEE-KUN.” HE HAS A NAME YOU KNOW!! UNLESS HE LEGALLY GOT HIS NAME CHANGED TO CAN’T YA SEE-KUN. OH MY GOD
ALSO, IS THAT CAN’T YA SEE-KUN CRYING IN THE BOTTOM RIGHT THERE OMG. GIVE THIS CHILD A HUG. EVERYONE STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING RIGHT NOW AND HUG HIM
BAKUGOU IS BARELY HANGING ON THERE LOL. GOTTA STAY CONSCIOUS... SO MUCH TEA BEING SPILLED... FOCUS... CONCENTRATE
IIDA’S ANGLING HIS HEAD IN A WEIRD WAY, LIKE DUDE. LOOKING SUSPICIOUSLY SNUGGLY THERE. MMM THESE IIDABAKU CRUMBS
HADOU IS ALL “WHAT EVEN IS ACTUALLY GOING ON” LMAO
LASTLY, POOR SHOUTO OMFG. WHEN YOU’RE ALL FINISHED HUGGING CYS-KUN THIS CHILD NEEDS YOUR ATTENTION!!
so now Dabi’s leaping off of this ninety-foot-tall gargoyle man like that’s a normal, smart thing to do. unless he can fly too now? saw his dad doing it back at Fukuoka and was all “hmm”
OH MY GOD SOMEONE TELL ME RIGHT NOW WHAT WORD SHOUTO IS USING TO ADDRESS ENJI, THESE TRANSLATIONS LOVE TO MESS WITH MY HEAD
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ENJI GET MOVING DO YOU NOT SEE THOSE TEARS!!! SNAP OUT OF IT YOU BIG TREE
AHHHHH
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OH KACCHAN YOU WOKE UP A LITTLE MORE THERE, HUH
lol he and Deku both look so determined but they’re basically sitting ducks. their “oh shit” faces do look remarkably like their “TIME TO SWING INTO ACTION” faces but don’t be fooled, they have one good arm and about six pints of blood left between the two of them. looks like this one’s all on you Shouto
-- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH --
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BAH GOD... WHAT’S GOING ON HERE... THAT’S BEST JEANIST’S MUSIC
y’all. can’t even talk right now, my brain has completely shut down lol. just. ...
  °˖✧◝( ̄▿ ̄)◜✧˖°
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neocatharsis · 3 years
Text
Ten on his new Represent capsule, grappling with creativity, and evading genre lines.
As Ten Lee - a vocalist and dancer in K-pop groups NCT (with whom he debuted in 2016) and Super M, and Chinese group WayV - is musing over his proclivity for partnering music or visual styles in a way that others deem strange, he veers off on a tangent. “Anything can be matched… except juice and coffee,” he says, suddenly. “Those two should never be.” Ten is infamously anti-fruit. It stems from a mistaken process of association in childhood where “I had the image of a spider and the image of fruit mixed up,” he laughs awkwardly, “so now whenever I put fruit in my mouth, I think there’s spiders in my mouth.”
Random abstractions such as this pepper his rapid-fire conversation, like small fireworks fizzing through the dark. Excitable, enthused and sharply alert, if Ten’s energy was visible it would be a shimmering mantle of gold and silver dust. As a dancer, he moves with a sinuous, controlled power that can shift from elegant to explosive on a single beat. As a visual artist, the Bangkok-born, multilingual 25-year-old recently added the title of designer to his growing list of achievements, launching an already sold out collaboration with the bespoke merch platform Represent.
Aptly, he named his collaboration “What is ??? THE ANSWERS”, for although being a chameleonic artist is one of Ten’s greatest strengths, the personality traits that enable this created within him question marks around how he saw himself fitting into the world. “People ask me, ‘What kind of music do you like?’ And I say, ‘I like R&B but hope it sounds rock’. And they’re like, ‘That doesn’t make sense’.” It was troubling to Ten that people began telling him who he was and how he should be, instead of accepting him as is.
In a recent Instagram Live, the myriad of Ten’s contrasts tumble forthwith. He’s the doting cat-dad. His inner emo, who loves rock music, shows off dried roses, with the stern, black, geometric lines of the large tattoo on his inner right arm sometimes visible. But he’s also delicate in a way, with his butterfly tattoo and hair lightly permed, who names daisies as his other favourite flower, and plays Fousheé’s breathy TikTok hit, 'Deep End'.
“Have you seen the image where I have my name in a cross in lots of different languages?” He pulls the image up on his phone. The design sits on his Represent long sleeve tee. “I was thinking [about this], like, what you’re saying... Ten has this luvvie flower side and a very ‘rawwrr!’ side. I’m always like, ‘Ten, what kind of person are you?’ I do ask myself that, too, because everything I like is so different [to the other].” He could have conceded, and reined himself in. He’s pushed back instead. “I thought, ‘I can be anything I want, I can be this in the morning and this at night. I can be any person I want to be’. And that’s what makes me comfortable and happy.”
On his Instagram, Polaroids feature scrawled messages, like “Don’t tell me what to do!” and “Whatever! I’ll do it my way”. The designs of his collaboration seek to challenge being boxed in by other people’s standards, thus limiting ourselves. The recurring symbol of a cross tipped with arrows is a nod to the Chinese letter for 10, but doubles as a plus sign. He’s added it to his Instagram, writing “TEN_+•10” in his bio. “A plus sign can mean that you’re adding on and growing.” He points to another version of the arrow-cross, one with short diagonal dashes between its points that symbolise light. It means, he says, “that I’m radiating. I’m burning, I’m active, I’m doubling myself.” He touches his forearm, where crowning his geometric tattoo is a blazing sun. “I have this, like, if you want to be the light, you have to burn. I relate to that.”
This isn’t to say Ten’s self-exploration is complete. While celebrating his strengths, the artwork also portrays parts of himself not yet conquered. He admits to being a chronic overthinker: “Even very small things that happen to me, I rethink a thousand times, and I get stressed out because of the things I do. Like, the main theme [here] is me overthinking but trying to find an answer even though it doesn’t have any answer.” Fittingly, spiral shapes dominate his designs, looming large amongst bright, bold shapes that evoke 80s Pop Art and graffiti, though Ten shies away from defining himself as “fully an artist, I’m not in the position to say things like that yet.”
“I’m still learning and trying new things. You learn by getting different elements from different people and I’m in that stage now.” He enjoys wandering the infinite halls of Instagram and Pinterest where he screenshots art that he likes, lost in the images, often for hours. He explains that he’s mostly influenced by whatever his current visual obsession is. “I’m interested in tattoos lately so my paintings look like tattoo designs. I’m that person who, when they see stuff, it goes into my brain and instantly comes out from my hands,” he laughs.
Ten’s introduction to art and design was through his mother, who believed music, art and sport were more important in a child’s development than traditional academia. “She didn’t care if I got an A* or not, just don’t get an F or a D,” he grins. Like any kid forced to do something, Ten railed against spending his weekends at art school. He attended but he didn’t draw. He befriended his teacher and other pupils and, as they worked, he chatted. “I was a very talkative kid! When I came to SM Entertainment (in 2013), I had a lot of my own time because my parents were in Thailand and I was alone. I had to absorb all the new culture and adapt to a new environment.’” When he felt surrounded by “negative energy”, he began drawing, enamoured with the space and freedom it offered because in art, as he often says, “there’s no right answer.”
There is, however, sometimes a middle ground. His goal was to make the Represent collection accessible to his diverse fanbase. “I wanted to make things that people can easily wear because it was my first project to make something with clothes and it’s a collab. If you go too far out, no one will get it. If you go too far back, people won’t reach for it. So finding the middle ground is important but that’s the hardest thing to do. If it’s my own project, I’ll be like, ‘I’m the president of this brand, I’m gonna make all the weird clothes that I can imagine!’”
He sought second opinions to ensure his designs landed the way he hoped. “I have a lot of good friends around me - my choreographer, (SHINee and Super M member) Taemin hyung, my manager. I randomly ask people I’m comfortable with and have known for a long time, like Mark (Lee, of NCT and Super M). Mark has the same kind of perspective as me, but I’m a person who is arrghhh!” He waves his hands in the air. “And he’s very calm. I need a person who is opposite of me because when I’m in a mood, I talk nonsense - ‘I wanna do this, I wanna do that, I wanna make this!’ - and Mark’s like,’Bro, calm down’,” he says in a rather uncanny impression of the Canadian-Korean.
Ten works fast when he’s drawing. He has to. He describes his personality as someone who can't wait until the next day to do something. “I’m very impatient,” he smiles. “If I’m going to paint or draw, I’m going to finish it in, like, two hours. I can’t sit down for three hours.” When inspiration hits him, it’s off the back of deep contemplation, sometimes about the mundane - “Like, why do the cats come to me when they’re hungry only? Is it selfish or instinct? - at other times, something affecting him emotionally.
But whereas his job as a singer and dancer sees him project his energy outwards, art offers the opposite. He’s often alone in his room when he works. As is for many artists, the right mood is fundamental. “When I’m in a good mood, I can’t draw,” he half-sighs. It’s also a multi-sensory process. “Smell or the temperature of the room, that really helps me draw. I light three or four candles. And when I draw, it’s kind of heavy, the feeling,” he explains. “It feels like you’re sinking into something, into yourself, and everything seems so small. Everything narrows down into me, my pencil, the paper.”
The more work he does in different creative mediums, the less Ten’s desire is to keep them separate. His art, dance and music influence each other, whether it’s customising his own collaboration pieces, a choreography video in an art gallery or dancing underwater with a film crew. When someone tells him that something won’t work or match up well, he refuses to let the idea go until he’s attempted it.
“I’ve had that since I was young. I think everything is possible. If you don’t try, you don’t know. When people say it’s impossible, like dancing in water for three minutes, I’m like, then let’s make it possible. You don’t need to walk a straight line [in life], you can walk this way,” Ten says, pointing along an invisible line before switching sharply in direction. “Then go back on track, go that way, come back. No one should tell you to walk in a line, I don’t see the point of that.”
© Clash Magazine
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missskzbiased · 3 years
Text
Watermelon Sugar
Genre: Fluff, Romance, Oneshot, Drabble, Summer crush! au
Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Fem! Reader
Word Count: ~2,9K
Notes: The last fanfic for the Valentine’s request [That you can find here]
If you never saw a schooner, please look for “escuna” in google images, so you can picture it! <3
Warnings: Make out?
Chan ||  Minho || Changbin || Hyunjin || Han || Felix || Seungmin || Jeongin
Masterlist
Requested: No, that was the beginning of the request idea xD 
General Tag List: @channiewoo @aliceu @bythesunnotbythemoon
[If you wish to be tagged to the other Valentine’s requests, please send me an ask <3]
                                                 ////
   You gasped, marveled by the bay right in front of your eyes.
    You were sure your eyes were shining like twinkling little stars or something, and as much as you really wanted to look like the cool and elegant tourist, you couldn’t help but let your mouth fall agape and look around. The sun cast its light above the sea, allowing pretty sparks on the teal waters to get your attention from time to time, distracting you from the beautiful forest that surrounded you. The view was breathtaking and the way that the forest-green mountains stood up there like a giant barrier ─ kind enough to let an entrance for adventurers such as you ─ made your heart swell inside your chest.
    “Want me to take a picture for you, Sweetheart?” Not even the cool breeze that came straight from the sea was enough to cool down your face at the moment. You pursed your lips, coyly rubbing your arm as you glanced at his bright smile. He looked at you with lovely gentle eyes, waiting for a reaction as he extended his hand in your direction (not to hold yours but to ask for your phone), and the lack of response made him tilt his head in confusion “Y/N?” He called carefully.
    “Oh! Yeah! Yeah, I mean- Why not?” You snapped away from your thoughts “It’s such a beautiful view” You added, more composed now, handing him your phone. You didn’t miss the small smile on his lips as he nodded in agreement with you, positioning the phone to take a picture as he muttered something under his breath, a blush spreading on his face “What did you just say?” You frowned, bothered by the pose you choose.
    “I said you look perfect” He repeated mindlessly “No! I mean-“ He widened his eyes, snapping them at you as he realized what he had just said “You look good in the picture! Not that you don’t look good in real life… I mean-“ He floundered, making you burst into a fit of giggles “Here is your phone…” He sighed embarrassed, fingers brushing on yours as he handed it to you. That was the most romantic thing that happened to you on Valentine’s Day in your whole life. And he wasn’t even your boyfriend!
    The truth was that you barely knew him at all.
    The attractive stranger was called Hyunjin ─ a simple and pretty name, just like him ─ and apart from being a good photographer, as you could see by the pictures he took from you, he was also part of the crew. Of course, you knew that the kindness and cuteness that he had been showing you was nothing but strictly professional behavior to allure the tourists, and (obviously) you couldn’t help but swallow it hook, line, and sinker. In your defense, he probably worked like this for years and had mastered the perfect gentlemanliness that he was using against you!
    When you decided to take your single Valentine’s trip and get rid of all those insane expectations people had on you for being single for too long ─ really, what was the deal with them?! Didn’t they have anything better to worry about?! ─, you didn’t imagine that you would come across someone like him. You wouldn’t even believe you would have the courage to get your feet on a boat like this! But you promised yourself that as a self-discovery trip, you had to be bold and jump right into any new opportunities.
    You meant more like a one night stand or something like this.
    But navigating through a deep ocean with a cute guy sounded good too!
    The moment you spot him on your way to the beach ─ perfect smile, tanned skin, and wet hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks ─, you knew you were screwed. You tried to reason that you weren’t really a good swimmer and hoping in a boat like this wasn’t the best of the ideas even if he had offered you a really good price. Of course, he knew exactly what to say and promised you to be right by your side at all moments… What a flirty little bastard you found as a summer crush.
   “I’ll even fight the waters for you!” He had joked as you signed the paper “I’ll be right there to catch you if you fall, though I can assure you it’s very safe! The only thing that you might fall for is me” You laughed along with him, but he was indeed right.
    Was there a way to not fall for Hwang Hyunjin?
    The very first thing he did was to stick to his promises as you stared at the wobbly boat warily ─ clearly rethinking all of your life choices ─, wondering how the hell you would get inside it if the bloody thing kept swinging like that. Were you supposed to simply jump inside it? What if you just fell to the sea?! That would be the silliest way to die on a trip… Utterly humiliating. How would your family and friends take the news?
   DUMB GIRL DROPS DEAD WHILE TRYING TO GET ON A BOAT!
   You could even see the disappointment on everyone’s face.
    “Here, gimme your hand!” His voice had brought you back from your daydreaming.
    The crew was holding the ropes firmly to bring the schooner as closely as possible to the deck, making sure it was safe to get into the boat. Of course, Hyunjin had to drop it and hop inside the schooner as if it was nothing, wiping away his sweat with his forearm and extending his hand to you with a bright smile that made you flustered. You accepted his offer, yelping at his firm grip and the way he could make almost everything seem steady as you connected your eyes to his, stepping inside the rocking ship successfully.
    You averted your eyes from him ─ the shyness overcoming your willingness to keep looking at his orbs ─, and the magic suddenly ran off as the boat shook in a different rhythm (or maybe it was all the same and you were just being clumsy), prompting you to pathetically stumble over nothing. If it was a movie, that would be the moment you would crash onto his chest and be wrapped into strong arms as you looked into each other’s eyes and exchanged a flustered smile under his friends’ teasing… Of course, you weren’t in a movie, so you just had the humiliating experience of pretending it didn’t happen as you walked straight away from them.
    Being the prince charming wasn’t enough for Hyunjin.
    He was also a fierce environmental defender just like you.
    Your heart would melt for him, just like those damn glaciers.
    It happened almost one hour ago but you could still remember vividly how mad you felt as a random guy tossed an empty chip bag to the sea, completely ignoring the crew on how important the area was for the local fauna. The damn guy literally tossed a plastic bag to some animal choke to death for no reason. You would have said something or done something but before you could even react, Hyunjin jumped out of the boat, diving into the sea and swimming like a torpedo.
    The thrash must stay in the thrash! He sneered, shoving the bag into the man’s hands with a scowl as soon as he got back. It was needless o say that it surprised you, yet you felt the admiration growing in your chest. As we were saying… This is not only our home but also of those animals and we’re responsible to keep everything clean and safe for them and for us… We thank you for your collaboration.
    Could someone be more perfect?
    “We have some fruits for you to eat” Hyunjin said, snapping you away from your thoughts “Do you like watermelon?” He asked, offering a triangular piece for you to take. You gave him a small smile, nodding as you took it from his hands.
    “Oh! It’s really sweet!” You arched your brows in surprise “This is really good!” You hummed, eyes sparkling as you took another bite.
    “I may have chosen the sweeter one for my favorite traveler” He chuckled, sitting by your side as he ate his own piece “We’re almost arriving at the last stop�� I highly recommend you to get into the water this time” He advised, glancing at you “I can help you out if you need to” He offered.
    “Unless you carry me in your back, there is no way I’ll survive inside the sea with no ground under my feet” You laughed “The other places I could go to the beach… What will I do in the middle of this bay?” You asked playfully.
    “It will be fun! This is the best spot to go! You could go to any other beach” He reasoned “Also, I can wait for you down there to support you in the water! There is no problem” He smiled at you.
    Why be so damn cute?
    “If you let me die, my family will sue you!” He laughed wholeheartedly at that, nodding.
    “Your family can rest peacefully today, you’ll be safe in my arms!” He chuckled, getting up “I have to help the guys out and prepare things for you guys to get in the water… As soon as I can go in, I’ll call you, okay?” You nodded, fighting back a smile as he walked away.
     He did just as promised.
    As soon as everything was settled down, Hyunjin took your hand in his, guiding you to the ladders. He jumped into the water ─ kinda showing off a little bit ─ waving at you from the water with a huge smile on his face. You took a deep breath, slowly going down the ladder. The closer you got to the deep water, the more you wondered what you were doing with your life.
    “That’s okay, I’m right here to catch you” He reassured you, sensing your hesitation. You peeked at him over your shoulder, seeing how he had his arms extended to hold you as soon as you got into the water.
    “We’ll die” You cried though you kept going down.
    “We’ll be just fine” He chuckled “Trust me, okay?”
    As soon as you got into the water, still attached to the ladder as if it could save your whole life, his arms wrapped you up. You yelped as he tugged you off of your safe place, bringing you some feet away from the boat.
   “For everything sacred in this world, please let me go back” You hissed, back pressed against his chest and eyes focused on the schooner, wondering why you tried to get into the water in the first place.
   “Hey, calm down” He soothed you, squeezing you in a hug and resting his chin on your shoulder “Breathe in” He instructed you, and you complied “Breathe out” He continued, and you did it again.
   “Yeah… Yeah, I think that worked” You sighed, a little bit more relieved, “Maybe I could even be alo—“ You interrupted yourself to scream, turning around desperately to wrap his waist with your legs, squirming as you hold him for dear life “Something touched me!” You yelled, trying to check the water to see what had just bickered you.
   He didn’t answer you at first.
   You glanced at him, noticing the compromising position you put both of us in. He looked down to avoid your chest on his eye level, ears burning in embarrassment as he held you by your sides delicately, unsure of how he should act. You felt your face burning when you noticed how your hands tugged on his hair, body pressed impossibly closer to him.
    “Oh my God, I’m so sorry” You mumbled, loosening your hold.
    “It must have been some fish” He muttered, still refusing to look at you.
    “Yeah…” You nodded “You guys said that there are tons of fishes here, right?” You asked awkwardly, and he nodded to confirm it “Cool…” You cleared your throat.
    He lifted his head, looking into your eyes as he adjusted his hold to your body, eyes wavering as he tried to focus his gaze on you. The moment was a little bit too intimate. You noticed how your legs were still around his waist, bodies pressed against each other, and breaths mingling, warming up your face. You let your eyes wander to his lips before returning your gaze to meet his.
    The moment made your stomach flutter.
    “Am I… Am I imagining things or…” He cleared his throat “I’m sorry but are you… Can I…” He floundered with his words, too flustered to say whatever he wanted to say.
    “Kiss me?” You questioned, and he snapped his eyes to yours again.
    “I mean… I shouldn’t have suggested it at all!” He said startled “I’m so sorry, this is so unprofessional! I didn’t mean to—“ You snorted, cupping his cheeks to make him stop talking.
    “I want to” You reassured him, staring at his lips “Can I?” You asked unsurely, checking for any signs of hesitancy in his eyes.
    “Please” He chuckled, sliding one hand to cup your face as the other one kept supporting your waist.
    He didn’t need to tell you twice.
    You slammed your lips against his, hands sliding to entangle his neck and play with his hair as you kissed each other. He hummed, hand going to the back of your head to keep you as close as possible to him. The kiss tasted like watermelon ─ sweet and kinda wet and sloppy ─, and you almost couldn’t remember you were in the middle of the sea, on Valentine’s day, kissing a complete stranger.
    A charming and sweet stranger, to be fair.
   He rested his forehead on yours as soon as the kiss came to an end, breathing heavily and closing his eyes to enjoy the moment for a while. You smirked; twirling his locks on your finger and making him shiver for a second. He opened his eyes, staring at you in complete bliss.
   “Wow” He muttered.
   “I agree” you chuckled, kissing his cheek before trailing the path to his jaw “Maybe we should repeat it sometime” You suggested, feeling how he tensed as you whispered against his skin.
  “You mean like now?” He giggled “Because I’m more than up to it”
  “I meant more like a date after the ride ends?” You said unsurely, shyly checking for his reaction.
   “I’m more than up to it as well” He smiled, brushing his nose on yours “Not that we need to do only one of those things…” He said suggestively making you chuckle “I kinda want to take advantage of how sweet your lips taste right now… If you’re up to it” He cleared his throat.
   “I’m more than up to it” You grinned, pecking his lips.
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