#He’s not the worst father in invincible

[milk-ducts]

[Brief] Thoughts on Film Theory's Analysis

I was gonna post this on my priv twt.. but moots convinced me to post it here so here we are.. beware of spoilers, gore, bla bla bla ..

FIRST OFF I'm gonna start by saying, I AM ESL. I may or may not have misinterpreted some of his words, but this is mainly how I thought of his analysis. This is not meant to be ill-guided or rude ! so sorry if it comes off as this way. I will be very repetitive.

Another thing, most if not all of the information matpat gave out i alr discussed with a few mutuals on discord about a few months back so this is not new territory to me 😭😭 I thought most folks would already knew the concept of how the brain deteriorates overtime But honestly, that indisposition shouldn’t even apply to omni man??? matpat tried to compare an immortal Viltrumite's psychology to that of an aging human's, which can be misguided.

Let's start by how he compares Nolan's brain to the average aging human's brain so the audience could understand his psyche more and how empathy declines overtime. First and foremost, Nolan is not a human, second; Nolan wasn't raised with empathy or around an empathetic environment - it was an alien concept to his race. Something frowned upon. He was raised from birth to conquer and destroy without remorse. His brain never developed those neural pathways for empathy in the first place. It's not that they deteriorated over time, they were never even formed.

By the time he came to Earth, all this familial stuff was new to him. Sure, he knew he was gonna outlive them, but He didn't think he'd get attached. HE didn't process that he'd grieve over them when the time came.

Interacting with humanity for the first time ignited unfamiliar emotions in Nolan that he didn’t know how to process.

His time living amongst humans caused conflicting feelings he’d never experienced in his centuries of systematic slaughter. Loving Debbie and Mark went against everything he was taught, but he couldn't help it. For once, the lives he was manipulating to further Viltrum’s goals meant something to him. He developed a [what he presumed, NOT what he felt about them in reality, his love for them is far more profound than he assumed it to be which we later on see in the last ep of s1 and the second season] petty facsimile of love for his ersatz family.

So no, his capacity for empathy didn't decline with age as MatPat claims. His empathy was stunted from the start. An underdeveloped skill, not a deteriorated one. We had characters like Debbie to help him understand those notions, help him grow it. With Mark in the mix? it only amplified that development.

Viltrumites are societally and culturally predisposed to violence and domination. Nolan was never accustomed to forming emotional connections or grieving loss. Those were entirely new experiences for him after arriving on Earth. He was not jaded. he was grown into jamais vu in viltrum.

This is why the whole conflict in s1 happened, he was treading between double lives he wasn't sure of. He was conflicted because his past values were refuting with his new experiences. He found love on Earth, he found himself unable to accept how he'd lose Debbie. Of How jaded Mark might become. Everything he said to Mark till that point was his own self-projections, his own fears, doubts.

While the video did provide some interesting facts about neuroscience and aging, the application of those facts to Nolan's character was inaccurate. IT is educational for those who don't know, but it isn't recent news that the brain begins to deteriorate overtime so this video wasn't that informative which kinda disappointed me. Their analysis lacked alot of information about the Viltrumite race and Nolan's character. Comparing him to humans with normal life experiences just doesn't work. His immortal nature combined with a lack of empathy from birth created a psychology unlike anything seen on Earth.

SORRY FOR RANTING ALOT AND OR IF IT SEEMS LIKE I'M GIVING MATPAT SHIT ... i really liked their analysis on immortal so i'll give them that. Immortal, unlike Nolan, was born human. He has lived among humanity for over 3000 years, inhabiting different identities of public and devoted historians. Because of this, his psyche developed quite differently. Immortal knows how to form connections, experience loss, and adapt to social changes. His perpetual existence didn't harden his heart like Viltrum's brutal culture did to Nolan. Instead, Immortal's immortality allowed his empathy and compassion to blossom.

Humans are social creatures. Our brains have evolved to seek out interpersonal relationships, crave affection, and find meaning in community. For an immortal like Immortal, social interaction is vital to staving off boredom, depression and detachment from humanity.

By inhabiting mortal lives, he stays tethered to the human experience. He continues learning, growing, and developing empathy.

This is why he's devastated when the guardians die.

This is also why he goes fucking mental and tries to kill Omni-man.

If Immortal had lived in isolation all this time, unable to connect with people, his psyche would likely resemble Nolan's more closely. Without social interaction, Immortal's brain would atrophy in ways that preclude complex emotions and moral reasoning. His sense of purpose would fade, achievements would lose meaning, and life itself might feel pointless. By engaging with humanity, Immortal gives his endless existence purpose and direction. He finds value in each temporary life, so loss still impacts him deeply. Socializing keeps his emotions and cognition flexible, which prevents the apathy and hardness of heart seen in Nolan. Nolan never had these opportunities in his early years, this is why it's more difficult for him to stray away from his indoctrination. It's that he's unused to it, underdeveloped.

60 years to Nolan would've been a year and a half, so what's 20 measly years on Earth for him? Yes, he found profound connections in that little speck of time, but Immortal's emotional capacity is far more extensive.

In summary, Comparing Nolan to a human, whether mortal or immortal, is kinda inaccurate. His Viltrumite psyche rules out him from possessing JADED human qualities. You could say he's desensitized to violence sure, but no.. unfortunately.. he does not have [boomer] brain. He has [indoctrinated alien-fascist brain]

Leave your own thoughts down below or through reblogs, I'm really interested on what others may think of this! (URGHHHNN... my hcs r slipping away from my fingers cuz now people r gonna accept what matpat says as truth.. someone gun me down from the hills..)

[belokhvostikova]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐛 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | After finding out about their exclusion from the school yearbook, Hellfire—Eddie Munson—isn't keen in letting his feelings fall for your attempt to fixing said issue.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, yelling, crying, and mentions of bullying.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Don’t know why, but I have an obsession with referring to Eddie by his full name, lol. If there are any necessary warnings that were accidently left out, please feel free to let me know!

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 | One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞

By the coming of the fall season of 1982, the Hellfire Club had garnered the stigma of satanic cultists that tainted the lives of those associated. 

What started as a throng—four losers—of curious minds, on an endeavor to escaping the suffocating suburbia of Hawkins, Indiana, transpired into a league of camaraderie, fighting the hellscape of dark wizards and evil lords. Perfect comb-overs and pristine pom-poms who lived on the green laws that housed Reagan signs couldn’t touch them under the guise of their characters who built their strength and thick skin to defeat the wicked of suffering towns and cities through quests. Those four were invincible in the threshold of the drama room.

But in the real world, they had a target on their backs that merely grew as the years passed. 

And Eddie Munson was victim number one, placed at the forefront of all propelled abuse. 

But the beauty of Hellfire allowed the proffering of solutions, in which he quickly found solace within. See, the notion of characters, and qualities, and disguises permitted the perfect opportunity to build a facade unlike one’s truest self, that protected the vulnerable inside. 

The terrors of childhood abuse, loss of loved ones, and the torment of classmates couldn’t be seen on the sneering smirk and scowling eyes that accompanied Eddie Munson everywhere he went. The act of toughness was not a thing to be found difficult; he saw it in its worst quality within the bruteness of his father, and he saw it in its best quality within the perseverance of his uncle. 

Eddie Munson had no issue opening his arms to those who were caught in the pressuring seas of conformity, and he surely had no issue abusing back those who started it first, with a insult or shove being met with his harder kick and punch.

See, both aspects of toughness.

And while the idea may have protected him from the superficial blows of a socially divided high school, it actually hurt the potential improvements to his well being, suppressing all that left him weak and vulnerable, and choosing the outlet of a drink or substance that disabled his mind from the thoughts of reality. 

But Eddie Munson couldn’t care about himself, no ever did anyways. 

Until you. And he hurt you. 

“This is bullshit! Complete and utter fucking bullshit!” If it hadn’t been for the cacophonous shrills of the school cafeteria, surely Eddie Munson would have garnered the usual attention from his antics. But instead, everyone’s attention was captured by the occurrence that was happening on the southern end of the crowded room. “I mean, really, what the fuck is this?!” His broad hand flung a pretzel out of frustration, not bothering to acknowledge the innocent bystander that got caught in the crossfire of his heated action. 

To say Eddie Munson was pissed would be the understatement of the century. 

The gnawing agitation that seemed to innately follow him wherever, had now been triggered by the bright smiles of individual students, paraded in their best attire, with glee of acknowledgement. Today was club picture day, and Hellfire was not included. As the lunch period progressed to its ticking last minutes, students of all age ranges savored the remaining bits of their glorious thirty minute break from school hell, but not Eddie. Nope. Because for every minute of those thirty minutes, Eddie watched as clubs, one by one, walked the notorious stage where all Hawkins High’s productions had been showcased, and sat with cheesy smiles at the notion of being a valued representative for their school’s yearbook.

But not Hellfire.

The heavy, black curtains provided the cleanest backdrop for its low budgeted cost, giving ample focus to the students, who sat with the straightest of all postures, amongst the perfect array of chairs—the good ones, too, not the ones that make your butt go numb after twenty minutes. Row by row, everyone had a place, even being complimented by the two large, fake plants that added a splash of color with their faux green leaves. 

Gareth sighed. “It really is, man.” He turned back from watching the drama club get their picture taken, returning to pick at the cold spaghetti that stained his plastic tray. Everyone got photos, Hellfire got stale food. “But what do you expect, dude? This school already treats us like garbage, as it is.”

“We shouldn't tolerate this treatment, Emerson!” Eddie snapped, slapping Gareth’s hand that was causing the insistent scratch of his fork scraping his plate. The boy could only scoff in defeat at his ruined lunch, now that his plasticware landed on the dirty tiles of the lunchroom. 

Eddie was becoming revved up. He groaned in irritation, feeling the need to slam his palm into the table, eliciting the flinches of each boy.

“Look, well, there’s nothing we can do.” Mike, at an attempt, reasoned with Eddie. But he merely got a seething glare that asked him who does he think he’s talking to. 

“Oh, no?” Eddie snuffed with a mocking face. None of the boys were daring to challenge his eye contact. None of them ever did when he got like this. His worst days. “You boys gotta learn to take what you deserve.” He spoke too calmly for anyone’s liking. “It’s the only way people like us make it through life.”

Eddie jumped from his chair, the force too heavy for the flimsy thing, as it scraped the tile flooring before clashing with the ground beneath. All eyes were on him. Puffing the laps of his jacket, he strutted his way to the stage, all leather and chains, bumping shoulders with those who stood in his way. Done diligently, his worn sneakers stomped the couple steps, announcing his arrival. Those in the drama club were quick to move out of the way, refusing to become belittled for their judgemental stares against the Freak. But they were disregarded. Closest to Eddie Munson sat Nancy Wheeler, co-editor of the 1986 Hawkins High Yearbook. She rolled her eyes, fidgeting with her precious pen that had been used to check-off every name of every member of every club to ensure publication was precise and correct.

“Wheeler.” Eddie taunted, coming close to her table, tightly-balled fists supporting his weight as he leaned close to her face. “Funny,” he peered at his watch, “lunch is almost over and you have yet to call us up.”

There was no need to clarify “us.” Everyone knew—for worst reasons—who they were.

Nancy huffed, professionalism embedded in her character as she responded with such cadence, “That’s because you’re not on the list, Eddie.” And it was such professionalism of cadence that ticked him off. As she held up the roster of all clubs and members, contaminated with the ink of her pen, scratching titles off, Eddie snatched the paper from her hold, Nancy wincing at his aggression. 

“The Art Club, the Aviations Club, the Math Club,” He read off, “the fucking ROTC shitbags!” He slapped the paper down with a harsh slam. “Some fucking wannabe soldiers, who aren’t even a fucking club here, can get their fucking picture taken, but not Hellfire?!”

Nancy was attempting to control her emotions from the ambush of his angry words, his spit coating her delicate makeup with every yell of his tirade. “Look, Eddie, that’s the list Principal Higgins gave us.” She pointed between herself and you. 

Shit, she pointed to you. 

You, who’d been quietly watching this shitshow go down, standing near the edge of the stage, with a camera held tightly in your sweaty palms. While his outburst had you racking with worry, it also elicited a wave of sympathy due to their obvious exclusion, clear as day as to why Principal Higgin’s didn’t want their association with Hawkins High. It was fucking awful. 

But Eddie Munson didn’t see you. He saw you.

You, as in the fake smile that accompanied your obnoxious cheers, where’d you hangout with your bitchy friends, mingling amongst Jason Carver’s goons, before heading back to school the next day where you ran the student body government, finding yourself involved in all school activities, making the Principal's List and Honor Roll every year, and was about to be crowned prom queen by May and valedictorian by June.

And now, partnering with the Newspaper Committee to create ‘86’s yearbook.

Though he may not have known you, Eddie Munson fucking hated you. 

He followed Nancy Wheeler’s pointed finger, now aiming his degrading scowl that shot bullets at you, and you peered down from the intimidating stare. “Oh, I see!” His terrorizing laugh stifled the already straining atmosphere. “Fucking, little Miss Pom-poms jerked Higgin’s cock to make sure we weren’t included. Isn’t that right, princess?” His sneering smile showed just how amusing he found your evident discomfort to be, as he marched his way towards you, the tip of his toes scuffing your pristine sneakers. “Tell me, sweetheart, was Carver there, too? Huh?” 

“N-no, w-we didn’t do, uh-”

“Uh, uh, uh.” Eddie mocked. You could feel his large eyes scan your face, taking in all your features, and seeing your chest heave from the confrontation. “Bunch of fucking pussy, all of you, huh?” He glared, refusing to break from you luring eyes.

Saved by the bell, the obnoxious ringing gave you an out, and Eddie was quick to jog back to Nancy, who was beginning to pack up her station. For a second, his daunting demeanor relinquished, and his eyes softened with panic. “This isn’t fair, Wheeler, and you know it. C’mon.” He pleaded. “We’re as much of a club as any other bullshit clique here.” Eddie tried to reason, as Nancy sighed, trying to quickly gather her things.

Despite his hostile behavior, there was merit to his concerns. Hellfire was a club, and though Eddie Munson was the biggest asshole you’ve ever met, you understood his petition. Everyone knew why they weren’t included. They were never included. 

“Your own brother is in the club.” Nancy stopped in her tracks and looked at Eddie. “Look, I’m sorry, Eddie, really, I am. But if you have a problem, take it up with Higgin’s not-”

“Maybe we can just take their picture.” You felt stupid for interrupting, hearing your voice waver under their snapping, stern stares—one more of anger than the other. “Um, Higgins already approved of our, uh, layout, so he may not even see the final draft until it’s already been printed.”

“And then what, we get in trouble? Not happening.” Nancy affirmed, more comfortable with disregarding Hellfire than staining her clean track record. 

Eddie scoffed. “Fucking screw this!” He stood straight, adjusting his posture. Any shot at his ego and feelings went unnoticed, as he returned to his callous attitude. There was a moment in which he simply stared you down; all that was clouding his judgment was your refined Hawkins High cheerleading sweater. Your well known name printed at the forefront—cursively embroidered in velvet gold—encasing the pinnacle of all things Eddie Munson hated. As Nancy Wheeler left you be, Eddie trudged his way against you again, hot breath fanning across your smaller stature. “I don’t need your fucking bullshit pity. You understand?” He gritted with clenched teeth.

 And he merely left it at that, nudging passed you, as he joined the stagger of students who were fleeting out of the cafeteria. 

And you stood in disbelief. 

-

You were crazy. You were out-of-your-fucking-mind crazy.

It was late into the night, and you were ready to break school rules for something so trivial, but seemed so desperately important to others.

You groaned in the palms of your hands, as you stood outside of the newspaper room, stolen key in hand. Why were you even doing this? Eddie Munson was an asshole to you. He didn’t like you. But this wasn’t for him. No, this was for the other members. Yeah, the other members, like Nancy’s brother, Mike Wheeler, or Lucas Sinclair, you sweetest kid you’d ever met on the basketball team, who were both totally innocent in all. Jesus shit.

“Hey!” Chrissy waved out to you, as you watched her flood out of the gym doors with the rest of the squad from practice. Clearly, your plans of leaving early to avoid them fell through. “What are you doing, I thought you left already? You coming?”

“Yeah, no, I just need to check over some things for the yearbook.” You lied, with your infamous fake smile. “Don’t know how long it’ll take, so I’ll just have my dad come pick me up.”

“Make sure my picture is front and center!” Jessica joked, as the girls laughed, and waved you goodbye.

As soon as they left, your head dropped back in your clammy palms. In all honesty, leaving would probably be a better choice, right now; you could drop your heavy cheer bag, get out of your sweaty shorts, have a nice bath, and dine out on some food. But instead, for whatever reason you tried to excuse in your brain, you’re here. Probably getting ready for whatever shit Eddie Munson was going to shout in your face when you appeared. 

But fuck it.

-

“The weathered wood creeks beneath your feet as you confront the abandoned foundations of Barlok’s Tavern.” An unnerving sense consumed the boys, as Eddie’s bravado narrations subjected their quest through the ominous grounds of Havocs Beacon. “The merchant of Dunbar Armory has promised this place to be of pure seclusiveness, unknown to even the commoners who dwell the treacherous forest.” All attention was sucked, this was the escape. The escape from the conformity that abused the boys. And Eddie Munson was their protector. “The fate of decision lies in your hands, boys. Do you enter or run?”

They peered at one another, unsure of their next move. “Remember, there is no shame in running.” Eddie’s malicious smile worried them.

But before a consensus could be determined, a soft knock spooked the boys, Dustin’s shriek being most evident. Eddie’s eyes shot at the door, narrowing with his brows furrowing. Everyone went quiet. Too quiet. Maybe they misheard. But sure enough, a delicate knock came again.

Eddie trajected from his throne. “One of you expecting someone? On Hellfire night?!”

His agitated voice was quick to receive a series of stern no’s and insistent head shakes that saved the boys from an invective of shouts for interrupting Hellfire. But for whoever was behind that door? Yeah, they were about to be hit with a diatribe of yells. 

Eddie’s breath heaved with irritation as he stomped his way to the large door, swinging it open with a heavy, “What-” But he was quick to shut up. 

You timidly dropped your balled fist from the air, and held eye contact with Eddie. His gaze was intimidating, but unlike the earlier occurrence in the lunchroom, it was weirdly softer. His eyes widened at the tired state in which you appeared; sweaty hair messily splaying your head, face heated from clear exertion, your lip plumped raw from your nervous chewing, and then he looked down. Unabashedly, too. You watched his eyes peer at your glistening chest that was displayed from your low cut long sleeve, then found his attention primarily focusing on your tight spandex shorts that hugged your hips and exposed your legs. 

“Um.”

His eyes shot back to yours, but you lost the ability to formulate words, both of you staring silently at one another.

“Uh, Eddie?” Jeff’s voice snapped him back to reality, as he turned back to see his buddies—all terribly confused—watching his blanking face obviously check you out.

His vulnerability was showing. And just like a switch, Eddie turned back to you, “What the fuck are you doing?!” You cowered at his sudden yelling. “We’re in the middle of a fucking campaign!” 

“I-I’m sorry.” You stuttered from embarrassment, as you saw his friends watch and wince at you. “I-I just needed to, uh, take your photo. F-for the yearbook.”

“What?” He scoldingly questioned you. 

“Your picture, um, Hellfire’s picture.” You pointed to his shirt. 

Before Eddie could get another word out, Gareth, who you only recognized as a random friend of Eddie's, did, “We’re getting our picture taken?” A small smile appeared on his face at the idea of inclusion.

“Wait, seriously?” A young, curly-haired boy spoke up.

There was a glimmer of hope oozing from their expressions, one that they didn’t get to experience often or lavish in, just at the mere idea of getting their picture taken, because it was a big deal, and seeing their excitement was enough to take Eddie’s hatred with honor to grant them their wish.

So you nodded your head. “Yeah, I’m here to take your picture.” You smiled, waving the stolen camera to prove so.

“Is this some fucking joke to you?!” And just like that, your smile was gone. “Don’t mess with their feelings for some sick joke!”

“N-no, this isn-”

“This is just a prank?” Eddie’s friends’ sullen voices simultaneously asked. 

“No!” You were quick to assure. “I promise, it’s not. I would never.” You ignored Eddie’s scoff. 

“Then why didn’t we get called up during lunch?” Mike, who Nancy Wheeler informed you about, asked. 

“That was totally on me. After lunch,” you nodded towards Eddie, “I asked Higgin’s why you weren’t included, and he was just as confused.” You lied. You never visited Higgins. It was obvious why he didn’t want to include them. “And, well, apparently it was just some fluke with the system, and you guys were included! All of you, uh, Eddie Munson, Mike Wheeler, Lucas Sinclair… and t-the rest of you.”Lucas gave you a shy wave, which you softly returned, as he’d always shared his sense of not fitting in just yet with the basketball team. You were there to reassure he was okay and welcomed—and right now, thanking god that you knew him and Mike’s name to confirm your lie. “It was all on the revised list, and I should have checked the first one better. Totally my fault.”

Eddie stared at you warily. 

“So, uh, come on!” You smiled, and the guys were quick to flood out of the drama room. 

“Wait! W-We’re in the middle of a campaign!” Eddie warned. “We’re not fucking stopping for some dumb photo! I mean, c’mon, guys.”

Everyone stopped.

The younger faces of the group fell, as they contemplated going back or following you. Jeff sighed, walking up to his longtime friend with pleading eyes. “Come on, man. Just let us have this.” He whispered. 

Eddie groaned, taking in the faces of the younger crowd, and nodded regardless, “Fine.” And a cheer of the younger boys echoed through the empty halls. “I’m bringing our logo! Wait- can I bring our logo?” Dustin—the young, curly-haired boy—asked.

“Uh, yeah, by all means, go ahead.” Logo? With a gummy smile, he ran back into the drama room, shortly returning with the round shield that mimicked the drawing on their shirts, encapsulating all that was the beauty of Hellfire. 

Lucas smiled up at you, “So where are we going?”

“Oh, well, I didn’t have time to set up the fancy stage, so…” you thought quickly, “…against the wall in the main hall should be fine. Is that alright?” You grinned back. “We can just hang your logo up, though you guys will definitely stand out from the formality of the other photos.”

“Good.” Eddie mumbled. “Wouldn’t want to conform to this bullshit school, anyways.” He sneered, bumping into you with no apology. 

Ignoring his hostility, you cleared your throat and directed the group of boys into the main hall, clear of all lockers, and decorated with plaques and awards honored to the Hawkins High establishment throughout the decades of operation. Catching sight of the familiar photo of Principal Higgins—one that had been countlessly vandalized by yours truly, Eddie Munson—you made the rash decision to dismantle it from the rusty nail that was drilled in six years ago when he first became principal. “Okay, hand me your precious shield.” You smiled at Dustin.

“Handle her with great honor, your majesty.” He unleashed his greatest—not so great—British accent with a bow to his knee. 

You giggled, joining his playful antics, “Wouldn’t think to do any less, kind soldier.”

Eddie studied your interaction. His lips were fighting to flash a tiny smile, but his ego was stronger, choosing to focus on his sneaker scuffing the floor rather than you. 

You, who was breaking every belief in the Munson Doctrine about prissy cheerleaders who hung off the arms of meathead jocks, and who was actively making his group of bullied outsiders feel included with your kindness; such kindness that Eddie was adamant he could not fall for. No matter how nice, how pretty, or enticing you were, all he saw was you. 

You stepped back from hanging up their logo. “Okay, how’s that?” You asked the boys. After Dustin’s insistent need of a little to the left and just a bit to the right, it was perfect. “Alrighty, you guys line up there, and we can take a couple.” You smiled.

Every member was quick to find their designated spot against the wall, Eddie though, he slowly walked up beside you, as his friends got ready. He sighed, as he looked down at your warm face, “Are you actually putting us in the yearbook?” For a moment, you wanted to savor the little moment of bliss, in which Eddie Munson wasn’t throwing an insult or condescending comment towards you, but his genuine concern about your sincerity had your heart aching at his unmistakable plea to wanting to be included, also. 

You softly spoke with a gentle nod to your head, “Yeah, of course.” You smiled at him. “Right where you guys deserve to be.” But his deep stare into your eyes had you pulling back from the moment that was happening, “J-just like Higgins said to do.” You were quick to add. 

 His heart could only manage a tight-lip nod back. “Right. Higgins.” He eyed you before joining his friends. 

You took a deep breath. “Okay, guys-”

“Wait, you don’t expect us to, like, stand up straight or whatever?” Mike interjected. 

“No, no,” you laughed, “be yourself, do whatever you’d like and just be comfortable.” You smiled, holding Eddie’s eye contact for a second longer than the others. “Okay, big smiles!”

Lining the camera to focus on the seven boys, you peered through the lens to see their uniquely catered pose establishing themselves through their individual personalities. Thumbs up, leaning postures, hands on hips, and beaming smiles, you snapped the photo with a large flash. You peered away from the camera and titled your head at Eddie. “What about big smiles did you not understand?” Your lips twinkled with delight of teasing. “You, too, Wheeler.” You giggled.

“Trust me, I look best without smiling.” Mike was able to rationalize.

You playfully rolled your eyes, “Okay, and your excuse?” You smiled at Eddie, who was undoubtedly using all his willpower to bite back a grin. 

“I don’t smile.” His stern voice was no match for his wavering smirk.

“Why not, it’s so beautiful?” You giggled, as his cheeks flushed with redness, apparent that he was not expecting such a compliment. “Come on, for me!”

His smile started appearing at you, though his friends were quick to ruin the moment. “Oh, you are so beautiful, Eddie.” Jeff mocked with a girly voice.

“Just wanna kiss you.” Dustin was quick to add kissy faces.

“Fuck off, both of you.” He shoved them, though his laugh was evident along with his smile, and were happy with such accomplishment.

Because you weren’t lying, Eddie Munson had a beautiful smile.

“Alright, alright, alright.” You laughed. “No more teasing. I want big, beautiful smiles—with the exception of Mike—so I can get the most perfect photo.” 

The boys shook out any giddiness, and were quick to, once again, get into their own poses. Eddie, for once, showing you his crookedly perfect smirk as he leaned into his friends comfortably. Instructing them to get ready, you realigned the camera and focused on their beings, capturing the fun that was occurring at Hawkins High’s center hall at 8:59 p.m.

“How lovely.” You smiled at them, as they cheered and excitedly congratulated each other for actually being in the yearbook. 

As you watched the utter glee consume their face, you caught eyes with Eddie. He flashed you a small grin, one that lingered longer than he was anticipating, but how could he not? No one had ever thought to include them, and here you were doing just that, tugging on the string of his heart because you cared. You actually fucking cared.

“Okay, um,” you caught their attention, “sorry for interrupting your game, you’re free to go back. I’ll be sure to have these quickly developed for the yearbook.” You smiled.

You were quick to get a multitude of thank you’s from the boys, though it was then when Eddie suddenly fell uncharacteristically quiet. He cleared his throat, snapping back to reality, and once again, his apathetic face was nimble to mask his genuine smile that was once shining on his face. As the boys started flooding back into the drama room, you turned to catch his staring at you, though when you went to flash him a smile with a small wave, you were only met with cold eyes that stared your figure down. The same eyes that degraded you nine hours earlier at lunch. The eyes that you thought you managed to break through after today. 

Speed walking away from his glare, you fumbled into the newspaper room, returning the stolen camera. You took a minute to adjust yourself, still stuck in your sweaty practice clothes, that only seemed tighter after Eddie’s scowl. But maybe you were just reading too far into it. He had been smiling at you before, maybe he was simply slipping back into his character to resume his campaign. 

Placing the camera back—Nancy was going to have one out with you when she found out—you locked up, closing the heavy door quietly behind you. It was once you did so, a heavy hand prevented you from walking away. Turning you around, you were, once again, faced with Eddie’s daunting demeanor as he stood over you. 

It seemed like a common occurrence now, that every time you came face-to-face with him, his unnerving eyes were always studying your face, from your eyes to your lips. “H-hi.” You gently spoke, breaking his trance from his detailed staring.

He cleared his throat, “I know Higgins didn’t tell you to do that.”

He wasn’t wrong, and it wasn’t like you exactly sold your lie too well. “Uh, yeah, b-but you guys still deserve to be included, and well, I’ll just take the fault if Higgin’s does find out. But I can assure you he won’t, so you’ll still be in there, I promise.”

Your reassuring voice that was laced with nervousness made him drag his hands across his face in frustration. It made all what he was about to do that more difficult. “Look, what you did back there…” He huffed. For a second, you thought that he may actually thank you and apologize for his previous actions towards you. But that’s not reality. “Don’t ever fucking do that again.” The way your face dropped had him slowing the lump in his throat knowing that he caused it. 

“W-what?” Your eyes became round with confusion, and Eddie screwed his eyes shut to refrain from looking into them and being swept away. “B-but I thought-”

“No, no, stop.” He cut off your quivering voice that was sinking his stomach into a deep pit. “I, uh, I told you before that I don’t need your pity. We don’t need your pity.” He casted his face down, unable to face your disheartened look.

“No, Eddie, I promise, this wasn’t out of pity.” You were swift to defend. “I did it because you guys deserve to be in the yearbook, just like you said. I swear-”

“You’re gonna get their hopes up!” His. His hopes up. You flinched at his booming voice, attempting to find the strength to control the stinging in your eyes. “Some gorgeous, popular cheerleader being nice to them, leading them to believe all’s good, they won’t get hurt, only to come back and find you and your friends tormenting them as if today never happened!” 

“No, I wouldn’t! I never even have! I’ll tell my friends to back off, Jason and Andy, I’ll tell everyone to stop, I promise. I didn’t do this to be some savior, you were just right earlier, and it wasn’t fair to exclude you guys.”

“Stop, just stop!” He couldn’t trust your words, though every fiber in his body was yearning to, but he just couldn’t subject himself to do so. His hands pulled on the roots of his hair. He wasn’t going to fall for you, in no alternate reality did Eddie Munson falling for a perfect cheerleader ever work out in his favor. He was an asshole before, and he’ll be an asshole right now, because that’s what kept him safe. “Just stay away from me- I, uh, my friends! Just stay away from my friends.” He choked with a shaky sigh, watching as you were fast to wipe away a running tear while looking away. Fuck.

He sighed, chest heaving with emotions he didn’t want to come out. “Just stay away.”

Eddie Munson was choosing to run.

Before he could crack from your glassy, round eyes, he marched back into the drama room with a heavy slam to the door, leaving you there.

Alone and crying.

[superbat-lmao]

Damian Wayne stuck in a time loop.

It resets when someone dies, and since Damian is the youngest, it doesn’t matter how rocky his relationship is with the bat-siblings, each and everyone one of them sacrifices themselves for him.

And Damian is pissed off because he doesn’t understand why.

Grayson is obvious, he has made it clear that he feels affection for Damian and has made the most effort into integrating him into the family. Of course he would die for his little brother. And at first, Damian believes he finds this outcome to be the least acceptable.

There is also his Father, again, a logical expression of love. Damian can understand why his Father would die for him, even if he doesn’t want him to. Even if, in the first few loops, he wishes that anyone else would die instead. At least it’s a type of parental relationship he can understand in the abstract, even if it surprises him to see its true about himself. That even though he has several older brothers and is unsure of his place by his Father’s side, the man would do anything to protect him. It reminds him of his Mother, even though he’s sure if she were here she’d find a way for the both of them to live.

Brown is the first one to surprise him. They had worked together when Grayson was Batman and he recognized her competence, but he thought that’s all it was. A working relationship between professionals. A mutal, if grudging respect. He is shocked when she dies, how he had no clue she would go that far for him. How he refuses to let it happen again.

If Brown was a surprise, Cain was a shock. Damian thought of her as nigh invincible, unable to be touched. It was clear she was the best of all of them, that she had seen the hit miles ahead of him, had maybe even seen him brace for it. But she had chosen to let herself go down. He feels every bit his age as he begins to wonder if he’s even more powerless to stop this than he thought if his most competent sister chose to let herself fall.

Thomas was confusing. He was new, newer than Damian and not quite sure of himself. They rarely saw each other aside from school due to the mismatch in schedules. Thomas gave him a wide berth, respecting Damian’s space in a way his other siblings failed to do or intentionally disregarded. Damian didn’t think much of him. Couldn’t understand how Thomas hadn’t even paused, had taken the hit as if it was an unquestionable law of the universe. As if they were really brothers and not strangers. It was a sentiment Damian didn’t know how to return.

Todd was the worst. He had seen him, briefly, before he had come to Gotham from the league. His Mother spoke of him rarely, but with pride. He was skilled, if untamed. He avoided the manor and his brothers and their Father. The only one he usually sought was Pennyworth. That is why Todd was the worst. Because he avoided all of them. Because this family had already allowed him to die before and he had come back wrong. A painful reminder that their family has failed. And he fought so hard to remind them all of that failure, every way he chose to keep fighting to live, to prioritize his own life over their Father’s morality. Only to throw it away for Damian. To force him to watch how his brother’s second death shattered their Father and Pennyworth and Grayson in a way that Damian didn’t think they’d survive a second time.

Drake is incomprehensible. Antithetical. A cosmic error. Impossible. There is no love between them, no grudging respect, nothing. Damian can’t stand to look at the person who he feels is a disgrace to the costume Damian now wears. He is the one who dies for Damian the most. The one he can’t possibly understand. The brother he has the least time to question, who gives him the least answers as to his motivations. Who will both die for Damian and refuse to utter a word to him in the same loop. It is madness. Damian needs to prove himself above this embarrassment, and yet Drake chooses to be beneath him. To die for him. It is in spite of Damian’s skill that Drake dies, and Damian hates him for it.

[turrondeluxe]

I've always been a true believer of medic mikey and I've been thinking a lot of 2012 medic mikey today

so here's a bunch of thoughts about it from my twt if it feels weirdly paced and chopped it's because i just copy and pasted from different posts

Mikey probably started with the want of learning more about medicine after leo ends up in a coma.

Kind of like a brutal awakening that his older brothers are not invincible

until that point he probably helped both donnie and leo with basic first aid, since in 2012, the brothers all seem to know some sort of basic medical knowledge to a certain point (raph carries a first aid with him in half shell heroes meaning they all probably have their own).

Mikey probably sees leo burdened with his father's shadow and the weight of being the leader and letting everyone down, raph so worried about them at all times and so angry at himself for not being able to protect his family better, donnie mostly always stressed out. with no sleep. always having to FIX something and all this probably make mikey realize that putting being a medic on top of any of his brothers would just be for the worst so he decides to take it into himself to specialize in that part.

Mikey would ask help for getting more information to study about medicine and turtle health veterinary from both donnie and april (april would love to help +she can get more physical aid like books from libraries and such while donnie is the one brother who doesn't actually mind what mikey asks him and also actually answers his questions with facts). While studying he most probably would forget a lot about the scientific or actual names for different things so he would just make up his own designations because that way it makes sense to him (his brothers would all learn later on about mikey's own system perhaps because it's just them and it's not like mikey is going to go work at a hospital so it doesn't really affect them much).

Being the group medic just would fit him so well because hes very smart and not squeamish about A LOT of things in comparison to his brothers (throwback to when donnie did said he was actually squeamish in the show) so donnie probably would also encourage him in his studies and even try to help him to retain info with different methods that actually work with Mikey (because of adhd brain) like making references to his favorite show or comics while learning medical info to make it easier for him to focus.

The fact that mikey is the most perceptive of his brothers and also the one to keep a cool head when all of the other ones are losing it, would be factors that help him while being the medic as well.

Mikey being the smallest one and fastest of his brothers so hes probably the only one who could make it to any of them in record time if needed be.

I feel like, since 2012 mikey is the one brother who uses his skateboard the most, he probably would start bringing his skate strapped to his shell everywhere because he can use it as an emergency medical stretcher to move his brothers around in the case he was not able to carry them around physically

maybe even begging leo for a longboard later on because they are bigger which, again, could help him in emergency situations.

Thinking also on how leo probably didn't really talk much about the healing hands technique with his brothers so mikey probably unlocked the healing hands in his own way and in a really high stress situation where the sheer willing force was just wanting to help his family.

Mikey would definitely sing staying alive while giving cpr: muttering the lyrics along in a frenetic way while punching his brother's chest, because of their plastrons, and trying to get him to breath again all while listening his other brothers yells be deafened by the sound of lasers pass by over their heads.

And after being home and safe, he'd give everyone those lollipops right after quickly making sure none of them are dealing with a concussion (he is but hes fine, he promises).

Extra: some replies in twt that i also wanted to share here

[spooklies]

# Fairytale - Yan!Mark Grayson x F!Reader

♡ ... › “Life itself is a most wonderful Fairytale.” - In which she comes to terms with a reality that doesn’t feel real.

── Words - 1.1K

♡ ... › Warning(s) - Graphic depictions of harm. Domestic abuse. Minor character death. Brief mentions of a panic attack.

── A/N - This is based off that version of Mark where he’s evil. No spoilers for that though! Think of this as an au of an au.

She figured the last of her friends were now dead as she watched their hideout burn from outside on the street, her knees bloodied from the concrete she slid on and her shoulder dislocated from the compact. Her friends didn’t scream – they were never given the opportunity to before he rigged the place to blow. 

Opening her trembling fingers revealed a picture of herself from childhood. She stared into her younger counterpart's eyes, already knowing the way they viewed the world differed due to recent events. She lived in an apocalypse while her younger self lived every day as if it were a fairytale and she was the princess the story centered on. Except now there weren’t sparkly dresses or even flashier tiaras. Just death. Every street she walked on was a reminder of the kind of world she lived in with a dead body occupying every other mile. For a while, she was able to tell herself that despite all of this chaos, she still had people to keep her afloat and from drowning in all that grief. 

But because of her, they’re gone now – dead from an explosion caused by her carelessness. They had warned her about going out and the risk she posed on their whole operation being found if she did. But Y/n had insisted she grabbed at least one piece of memorabilia before they hunkered down for an indefinite amount of time. If only she had listened. It wasn’t worth it, they were right. And she’d tell them as much if they were still around to listen. 

She could only hope their deaths were quick and painless. But knowing Mark he would somehow find a way to draw out their ends in the worst way possible if only to prove a point to her. She found it hard to believe that a man she once loved was capable of such cruelty. It was as if a switch had been flipped the moment he and his father had that argument. The Mark she’d fallen in love with had become more rash, not at all caring about the consequences of his actions even if it meant those actions put her in harm's way. His new viewpoint on life was pessimistic whereas it was once optimistic. His trust in her had diminished into nothing and he’d become strict, not letting her do as she pleased if she didn’t have his permission to. He had explained that he’d made more enemies and that going out was dangerous since they most likely knew how much she meant to him. 

After many arguments, she was forced to come to terms that the man she’d fallen in love with was gone. This new sinister version of her boyfriend contrasted too greatly with the sweet and selfless version she’d been in love with. All of the love that once warmed her chest lost its warmth and turned cold. Staring into Mark’s eyes no longer filled her with butterflies and instead made dread coil deep within her gut. Danger. Mark was dangerous, sure, she’d always known what he was capable of once he’d revealed his identity as Invincible. But she never once suspected that he’d use that power for bad – never once believed he’d use that power to make her life as well as others a living hell.

So she ran and never looked back. It had been a good six months since they last saw each other and she knew he’d find her eventually with all of the influence he now holds. She had just hoped he wouldn’t have gone this far and that the Mark she loved was still in there with all of that humanity that made him who he was.

Mark’s yellow uniformed feet landed in her peripherals, an eager skip to his step as he approached her and crouched down, his hand gently placed on top of her head. If she shut her eyes she could delude herself into thinking she wasn’t trapped in a nightmare and instead back to the time when everything was good in her life. When she was treated like a princess from a fairytale by the man who acted as her doting prince.

“Y/n…” He whispered lowly, his actions now mirroring that of an owner disowning their pet when his grip tightened on her hair. She winced, and Mark paid no mind to it. “Look where running got you.” She didn’t respond and Mark took that as his cue to continue speaking. “Aw, don’t be like that. Your friends were lucky to have survived this long, those who are part of the resistance die in worse ways than they did.” At the mention of your friends his tone turned ominous, a clear distaste apparent. 

She tilted her head up so she was looking at Mark, mirth absent in a place where it was once believed to be forever stagnant. He showed no authentic sympathy for everything he’s done, though that should have been something she expected.

“You’re bleeding all over. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up. I know someone who–” 

She smacked his hand away and backed up as much as she could before her ankle was grabbed in a vice-like grip, Mark’s strength keeping her from moving any further.

“Y/n, you’re not going to make this any more difficult than you already have, are you?” He asked in that same sing-song voice, an obvious threat hidden underneath the tone that did not go unnoticed. She opened and closed her mouth, begging for her mind to get out of her thoughts but ultimately coming up empty. Mark made a noise of disapproval and grabbed onto her leg with both hands. “You’re lucky this is all I’ve done so far, I could have done so much worse by now.”

The crack her leg made when Mark split it in two was booming and was heard over the blood pumping in her ears and soon after she was screaming out in agony. Mark had his hand back over her hair, stroking it in downward motions as he hushed her as if she were throwing a childish tantrum.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” He said softly. “Now imagine this pain but worse then you’ll know exactly how I’ve felt all this time without you.” If she was frantic before then she was beyond that now. She shook her head back and forth, letting out incoherent words between sobs. Mark watched on with disinterested eyes and then grabbed onto her other leg. Y/n tried to wring her leg out from his grasp before he inevitably broke that one too. But her attempts were all futile. She had passed out from the pain not too soon after her legs were both broken and when she came back into consciousness she was being carried by Mark through the air. The burning sensation that encompassed her thighs down was now a dull throb in the back of her mind as she cried silently in Mark’s arms. The picture that had cost her friends their lives nowhere to be found.

[jubileemon]

Why Adam Wilkins is the most hated character on Invincible?

He has a very rocky relationship with his daughter and is generally unsupportive of her decisions and aspirations to be a superheroine.

He's a misogynist who holds outdated views on gender roles and chastises his daughter for not having traditionally feminine aspirations as a way to cover his insecurities and fragile masculinity. He states that the only reason he ever let Eve become a superhero was because he assumed her then boyfriend, Rex was going to "protect her", even though Eve is extremely powerful herself.

While it's shown that he does care about Eve and most of his disdain for his daughter's career choices come from a place of worry about her welbeing and the welbeing of those around her, that is simply too weak of an excuse to justify his actions, as he damaged his relationship with his daughter because of his own choices, to the point Eve started to actively dislike him. Even though he sometimes brings up good points, such as calling out Eve for using her powers in an inconsequential manner, the way he goes off about them doesn't help and only further cements him as a bad father.

While it's shown he had a good relationship with Eve when she was a kid, ever since the day he learned she had a special ability to identify atoms and molecules, Adam began forming a disdain for his daughter and started acting rude and abrasive towards her.

He was also rude to her babysitter after he started praising his daughter's advanced intelligence. He initially refuses to send her to a school for gifted children, calling her a freak. When Eve didn’t show up to her birthday, he ate a part of the cake and when called out by her, he furiously yelled at his daughter.

When she runs to her room he rudely yells at her that that he and his wife are the only family she has.

While it's implied that he does genuinely love his wife (especially in the flashbacks seen in the Invincible: Atom Eve special), it's rarely ever shown onscreen, and it's stated that they frequently fight a lot. It's also implied that he might even be psychologically abusive towards her as well, to the point she's completely submissive to him and enables his behavior.

Season 1

After finding out that Eve had broken up with Rex after she found out he was cheating on her with Dupli-Kate, Adam lashes out at his daughter, telling her to forgive him, saying that "everyone makes mistakes".

When Eve tells him that she's considering quitting the superhero career, Adam rudely tells her that it was "about time".

When Eve decides to leave her family home in order to become a full-time superhero away from them, Adam doesn't respect her choices and further insists that she quits her dreams in order to live a "normal life". He even told Eve to her face that the worst day of his life was when she got superpowers, something that really hurt Eve emotionally.

Season 2

While he does take a job at Burger-Mart in order to provide for his family after being fired from his previous job at the furniture store, Adam is shown to have been very reluctant to do so and puts the blame on the superheroes for having destroyed their corporate office, essentially blaming his daughter for getting fired.

He stubbornly refuses to get his daughter's help for income, purely out of a place of insecurity, and still persists on lashing out on Eve, despite her being very understanding towards him.

After Eve uses her powers to turn an apple into gold and gives them to sell it, Adam angrily refuses to do so and, later on, even throws the apple in the trash.

During their argument in Eve's second visit to their house, he blames her for an accident in Chicago, where Eve had used her powers to build on an abandoned lot, not knowing it was actually unstable. While Adam tries to rightfully talk some sense into Eve to not use her powers irresponsibly, he's still overly harsh to her, telling her that her powers don't make her a hero, they make her dangerous.

Overall, Adam is generally an unpleasant and rude person who is unreasonable to his daughter for no good reason, and is by far one of the most hated characters in the series.

[howlingday]

Have you ever feel that Jaune got to much focus? I mean he's called a main charater (for better or worse) in a show called RWBY. About Team RWBY. It's just looking at both sides as much as I like Jaune maybe their was or still is to much focus on him.

Hardly.

Tell me something. Did Sasuke get too much focus in a show called Naruto? Did Knuckles get too much attention in the show Sonic X? What about Harry Potter? One Punch Man? Hey Arnold?

The Jaune "getting too much focus because the show is called RWBY" is the saddest, weakest excuse ever uttered. Jaune is a main character, along with Ren and Nora, who, need I remind you all, got plenty of love and attention despite not being "Team RWBY"?

Now, does the FNDM give him too much attention? My second favorite tag on this hiellsite is "jaune arc," AFTER "rwby," agrees with this statement, and to be honest, I don't think that's a problem with the show's writing as much as it is with the audience's reception of him.

There being "too much focus" on Jaune is only in comparison to the weaker writing for the "main characters" because the show puts more effort into the action and the plot than into the development of the core cast of Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Yang.

Ruby has silver eyes and is supposed to be the hero who saves the world, but it wasn't until Volume 9 that she really got a solid win for her character.

Weiss comes back home in Volume 7 and her biggest character moment is when she's stopping her father's escape. Then... nothing.

Blake and Yang are by far the worst because their characters are now wholly reliant on each other. And before that, Yang's character was reliant on Ruby while Blake's character relied on the White Fang plot, which ended in Volume 5, and Adam, who died in Volume 6.

But what about Jaune's character? Well, let's see; Jaune was the loser everyman character who acted as the foil to the prodigal child of destiny that was Ruby Rose. His partner, Pyrrha "Invincible Girl" Nikos, takes him under her wing and trains him as her mentor. She then dies, leaving him to train and grow on his own despite his team being there, whereas Ruby loses her entire team and gets their help to accomplish reaching Mistral.

...Typing this out, yeah, I would say Jaune got more thought and effort put into his story and character development, but I don't think it's "too much". If anything, I'd say the issue is RWBY didn't get enough. All we got for them were flashy moves and kicks and bruises, but it's all shallow, surface-level development. Looking back, I see RWBY as the same people as they were at Beacon, while Jaune has completely changed since his initial appearance.

And again, that's not Jaune getting too much attention. It's just RWBY never really grew up right.

[lovedreamer11]

About how GRRM fucked the greens

I will never stop laughing at how masterfully GRRM fucked up the green team.

Otto insisted that Rhaenyra become the heir to the Iron Throne so that Daemon would not become king. But as a result, Rhaenyra became an obstacle for Otto's daughter and his grandchildren. Otto wanted his blood in the royal dynasty, but the usurpation, of which he was one of the organizers, cost the lives of Rhaenyra's eldest sons and cleared the way to the throne for Daemon's sons. And thus all subsequent Targaryen kings had the blood of Daemon, a man whom Otto hated. Otto did everything to ensure that his grandson became king, but the same grandson deprives him of the title of hand. Otto compared Daemon to Maegor and accused him of cruelty and bloodthirstiness. But his grandson, Aemond from an early age demonstrates a tendency towards aggression like Maegor, Aemond is the first to shed the blood of a relative, Maegor, due to the betrayal of Alys, exterminated the entire Harroway bloodline, which ruled Harrenhal, Aemond, in a fit of anger, exterminated the entire bloodline of the house of Strong, who were also owners of Harrenhal. Also, Otto's eldest grandson, Aegon, is among the top three worst Targaryen kings, right behind Aenys and Maegor.

Alicent was a power-hungry and ambitious woman. She insisted that the only way to protect her children from death was to usurp the rightful heir, which resulted in the death of all Alicent's children and grandchildren. Alicent also saw the lords of Westeros crown the son of the woman she hated. And her death itself is described as “mercy.”

Aegon was a spoiled hedonist. But due to the efforts of two women, Rhaenys and Baela, he was deprived of the opportunity to indulge in material pleasure. Aegon insisted that his sister's bloodline should be interrupted, but it was his line that was interrupted.

A very long post could be written about Aemond. I don't even know where to start. To begin with, Aemond constantly insulted Rhaenyra's femininity and called her an "old whore", but as a result he himself was involved in an extramarital affair with a woman who was at least ten years older than his sister, who was not married and was definitely not a virgin. He despised his nephews due to their bastard status and constantly emphasized their blood relationship to House of Strong, but his mistress was a bastard of Strong. The tragedy of Aemond's entire life was the loss of his eye. And in the end, Daemon dealt him a fatal blow right in the blind eye. Aemond, due to the fact that he was the rider of the largest and oldest dragon in Westeros, considered himself invulnerable and invincible, but among the sons of Viserys he was the first to be killed, moreover, his rival was almost thirty years older than Aemond, and Caraxes was younger than Vhagar years per hundred.

Borros was a rude pig who underestimated women and inexperienced boys, but as a result, women and inexperienced boys were to blame for his death. This man had an enormous ego, but he was a coward who hid during the war until all the dragons died. Borros could not become the father of a boy for a long time and ultimately he never met his desired son, and his wife ignored her husband’s order to name the child "Aegon" and named her son in honor of her father.

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

DC

fill in the blanks by mindshelter

"You?” Tim blurts. Holy shit. “You’re Kon?”

A nod. “Are you in any pain?” he asks again.

Kon’s skin is sun-kissed, cheekbones dusted with a fine smattering of freckles; he is, without exaggeration, the prettiest person Tim has ever seen. “No, I’m—great,” he says, fidgeting. “Do you, uh, come here often?”

Kon raises a brow. “To the medbay?” he intones. “Definitely more often than I’d prefer."

Fault Line by sElkieNight60 (+ podfic)

Part 1 of Tectonics

"You’re invulnerable…” he whispers, but it’s clear that fact falters in his mind.

Confusion writes its way into the lines on Conner’s face and Clark takes a step back as though physically pushed.

“You’re not invulnerable.”

It is a statement, dull like stone.

“N-no, sir.”

— 🦸 —

OR: Conner's not as invincible as Clark thought. Suddenly, he's a lot more human.

Danny Phantom x DC

The Business of Family by Spaced_Ace

Jazz remembered the way their parents loomed in the living room as they’d laid out that verdict. Ever-present weapons gleaming, standing in such a way that they blocked access to both the front and back entrances. Their eyes had been what struck her the most of that horrible tableau. What made her stomach fill with jagged stones and drenched her back in a frigid sweat. The way they looked at her little brother, their gazes cold and hollow and -

Hungry.

(Things are not well in Amity Park.

With the GIW getting more and more aggressive and their parents becoming ever more suspicious of Danny each day that passes, Jazz knows that they're running out of time. It's not safe, and their options are painfully limited. Out of sheer dumb luck or a little intervention from Clockwork, she manages to discover a distant relative that just might be their salvation.

If asked Oswald Cobblepot would say that it's just good business. Adopting a few kids had done wonders for Bruce Wayne's reputation, why not his? It's not like he can't afford to put them somewhere out of the way if they get to be a problem. It's just business. Nothing more.

(His soft heart says otherwise))

The Witcher

Words of Love by ForestWren

"I should warn you,” Jaskier said between kisses in the soft darkness of the shed, “That I know some… very interesting people. You may want to avoid meeting them.”

“I’ve dealt with the Redenian court for decades. Your friends can’t be worse than that.”

Five times Radovid meets Jaskier's friends and family, plus one time they are alone.

Star Wars x The Mandalorian

Master Skywalker: The Absolute Worst by PrinceJakeFireCake

"Din got to his feet. He patted Boba on the shoulder affectionately.

“You should watch the recording of Skywalker fighting the death troopers,” he said, then pressed a kiss to Boba’s cheek and told Grogu to stop eating his blocks.

Boba watched the recording. He was pretty sure he would never be the same again. He was positive that he never wanted to meet Skywalker ever again.”

Boba Fett falls for Luke Skywalker. It isn’t the funnest thing he’s ever done.

Original Works

Call Me Menace by wingedcat13

You, Synovus, are a respectably terrifying supervillain. Your main rivals, a pair of superheroes named Legionnaire and Athena, are actually respectable as heroes. You hate having to stoop to kidnapping their child - but you hate more what the kid's behavior implies.

if it don't hurt now (just wait a while) by quandaries_and_contradictions

Part 27 of mage in a wolf pack

When the hunters first take him, Jaime knows everything will be okay.

He’s scared, of course. He wants his mom and dad and little sister. But he knows it’s going to be okay — because the wolves who protect his town will come for him. Lada’s mother and father and papa won’t let the hunters get away with this. All he has to do is hold on until they get here.

Months later, he's not so sure.

Stranger Things

No One Rides For Free by weird_witchcraft

"Are you okay Harrington?” Eddie asks gently, “Need me to get anyone?”

“No one to get,” replies Steve, so soft Eddie barely catches it. “You think I want anyone seeing me like this?”

Eddie Munson stumbles across Steve Harrington crying next to a bush at Tina's party and makes it his mission to cheer him up.

Clone Wars

mirci't be uja by ihathbenobiwankenobied for whitchry9

Obi-Wan is usually good at keeping track of his blood sugar levels–because he has to be–but this time, it’s out of his control.

(Or, a diabetic Obi-Wan is thrown for a loop after crashing on an unknown planet. Stim does his best to keep his General alive)

[xjulixred45x]

I just watched the season finale of Invincible and MAMITA, what writing material! And this thought just came to mind.

Did you see the evil Mark/Invincible in a black suit and cape? For some reason it gave me Adam from Hazbin Hotel vibes😅🤣 and while developing this idea I remembered what Anstrong said that in other realities Mark's family joins him with his father. and I think...

What would happen if in that reality his Reader was his ally?

first of all because I LOVE the villain couple trope, and in a way to be more diverse in terms of the alternate Marks.

I imagine that with this Mark (considerably more sadistic and brutal) his s/o IS also considerably sadistic and brutal, which is why she becomes his ally in the conquest of the earth. It's like his Lute (but without cool music).

They may have known each other before the whole conquest, they may simply have been one of the humans to ally themselves with the more "interesting" Viltrumites due to their taste for violence, they may have previously been heroes but they went over to the side dark when the conquest occurred, indifferent to this, they caught the attention of this Invincible and they really liked it.

She becomes something like his lieutenant, the one who takes care of matters that Invincible doesn't, a traitor to her own race, a symbol of fear, and Mark ADORES her for that.

he loves it! the ultraviolence it shows, the cruelty she has against civilians, how good she looks with blood all over, it's as if they both shared a playground "what's yours is mine and what's mine is yours... to break"

This Mark definitely encourages his s/o's violent personality and doesn't stop her AT ALL, excessively vulgar language? It makes him laugh. Extremely cruel ideas of how to break the human body? He wants to try it! Does s/o want to practice target shooting with the Protestants from the other day? It will be seen if any remain from the previous session. You understand what I say.

I think that outside of privacy, s/o would like to call Mark "sir" simply to annoy him a little, although it is also a reference to her position as his "lieutenant"

Only s/o can call him that, someone else and *boom* jaw was out.

something Angst I came up with for these two, similar to GuitarSpear, is the scenario of if this Mark were caught or at worst killed.

Imagine, s/o going to dig Invincible out of the rubble he fell into, horribly injured, mask off, smiling while s/o frantically yells at him to stay with her, to stay awake, to NOT leave her. ..

in the "best" case scenario s/o continues the conquest on her own to "honor" Mark and dies as part of the Viltrumite empire.

In the "worst" case scenario she dies shortly after Mark no longer having her evil super boyfriend watching her back.

Either way, a strangely wholesome couple of sadistic sons of bitches.

[saintsenara]

if you are still doing ship game, thoughts on jily?

thank you very much, anon - i am always taking questions both on romantic ships and on characters' platonic vibes, the more unhinged the better.

although jily can't really be described in those terms, not least because their narrative purpose in canon is to be little more than blank canvases onto which harry can project as he goes through his series-long character arc, shedding his initial hero worship of james when confronted with the reality of his father's behaviour in order of the phoenix and starting both to fully appreciate lily's centrality to the course his life is taking and to see his dad with nuance as a real and fully-rounded person, flaws and all.

this narrative role means that the glimpses we get of them in canon feel kind of superficial - their bantering during snape's worst memory is basically high-school-teen-movie level, the snapshots of their life under lockdown in deathly hallows lovely and bittersweet but also just colour to a storyline which is already all of those things.

and this is not to say that i find jily uninteresting as a ship - i completely reject the common anti-jily position that they didn't really like each other, that they had nothing in common, or that their backgrounds made them incompatible [i'll expand on this below, but while i do think that their respective blood statuses and the impact of these on their relationship are worth thinking about, i loathe fics which portray james as chafing against his marriage because, as a pureblood, he'd be more comfortable with someone 'of his own kind'. this is bullshit, and there's far, far too much of it in this fandom]. my views on one of james' most frequent non-lily partnerships are well known, and i share the outrage many jily fans have for the way lily in particular is treated in a subfandom increasingly dominated by rigid fanon which prioritises giving depth to male characters [even if those characters are, in essence, oc's] and slash relationships over exploring the canon female characters, partnered or not.

but i do also find that a lot of jily falls into the same trap as much of the hinny i dislike - that is, a tendency to present as a sunshine-and-roses fairytale a relationship which is much more interesting if the things which canon implies [and which can be reasonably inferred outside of canon scenes from a canon coherent engagement with the text] might have introduced an element of dysfunction into james and lily's partnership are taken into account.

the shadow of the war is obviously one of these things. what role lily actually plays in the resistance is something which preoccupies me [she is never mentioned in canon to have taken a combat role - and i find it considerably more plausible that any attempt voldemort made to recruit her was at snape's request and connected to her potions prowess] particularly because, as we see in the way her death is memorialised in deathly hallows, the series regards the defence of the integrity of the nuclear family as a key aim for the good guys. how does she interact with james and his wartime role when she's pregnant, nursing, or in hiding for the vast majority of her time in the order? how does she feel about her husband being a soldier if she's behind the scenes?

indeed, what role james [and sirius] plays in the order is also something i'm obsessed with thinking about - not least because so much of the inherent tragedy of the marauders' storyline is caused by the fact that james and sirius think they're fucking invincible and that their plans to keep the potters safe are foolproof. it's entirely reasonable to read james and sirius as being pretty gung-ho about being paramilitaries - and my headcanon is absolutely that more battled-hardened order members didn't like them very much [moody does not, after all, seem massively fond of sirius] - and lily seems affected by this too [she's not holding her wand either!], and what they thought they were doing as 1981 rolls around is compelling to me.

james and lily's divergent backgrounds is also something i'd like to see explored more in fandom - not, as i've said, in the dull 'james should have married a pureblood' way, but in a way which deals with the fact that their relationship follows wizarding norms. molly weasley can blame the war all she likes, but [although i doubt this was jkr's intention] the evidence of canon is that witches and wizards marry and have children extremely young as a social standard, that couples generally don't live together before marriage, that divorce doesn't seem to be common, and that married women tend not to work. lily - a mother at twenty and, therefore, presumably married at nineteen - is coming of age, then, in a magical world which thinks about gender very differently from the muggle world of the 1970s, and i think that tension is worth exploring.

[similarly, the way in which her marriage is self-protective - lily gains a pureblood name and the social cachet which comes with it at a time when she's in rising danger on account of her birth - is something i think it's worth looking at when considering the pairing.]

there are other flashes of dysfuntion which i adore thinking about in relation to jily - lily's relationship with the other marauders [you can pry the reading that sirius resents her for stealing the love of his life - and i certainly don't mean lupin - away from him from my cold, dead hands]; how much of his misbehaviour at school james conceals from her; the fact that lily becoming more overtly interested in james from her sixth year onward must have a little bit of attempting to make snape jealous mixed into it - and whenever i stumble upon them in fics i say oh ho like horace slughorn and kick my little feet in the air.

i care rather less about 'we're so hot and flawless and not doomed' as a trope.

but i do stan james for beefing with vernon dursley even though lily told him to behave. the man really is just that annoying.

[isroji]

Generous | Attuma

Attuma x reader

Summary: Attuma helps you to train in the surface.

Warnings: None.

A/N: I just needed to write about him again. Like I said before, English is not my first language, there may be things written wrong, I hope you can understand

﹃﹄

Oh, that feeling that you're capable of eating the world. To do anything, to be invincible.

You remembered from a very young age receiving a ridiculous amount of compliments. For your intelligence, for your great physical performance, for the way you could function with people. There was no one who knew you and did not mention some of your many good skills.

Growing up with the ego you had grown up with was simply the obvious consequence of all those words of encouragement spoken during your growth. According to you, there was no being that stopped you. No matter how young you were or how little experience you had, you were absolutely sure that nothing was impossible.

Or well, you thought so until you joined Talokan's army.

Maybe because of your father's wishes, maybe because of your own need to excel in everything, but you ended up joining the great ranks of the warriors of Talokan. And like everything, at first you only thought about receiving your good amount of do them and being better than others, but great was the surprise when you realized that before the warriors of Talokan you were nothing more than a tiny ant.

You didn't remember ever having such a bad time. It was one thing to excel in sports and physically, and quite another to train to be part of an army. Your life, in a matter of months, had been reduced to training and learning. Learning again, from scratch, like a child who barely discovers a different world and must understand how it works.

In your stressful present, it was training day on the surface. The worst workouts. Spend your whole life in the water, then go out and learn to move there. And not just move, fight there. You felt that everything was heavier and that in turn it went faster, on the surface you became a zero to the left that could barely maintain stability.

You had been trying for an unknown amount of time to get your spear, your favorite weapon on the surface, to hit the point at the distance where it should hit. The theory was simple, aim and throw, but your body was so unaccustomed that it was harder than you wanted to admit. Already at that point the arms were beginning to give you the sign of fatigue, not to mention that the sun was not being a particular ally for those who trained; It shone so brightly that it would not have been a surprise if you ended up fainting in the heat.

And of course, the icing on the cake, the two most feared superiors, Namora and Attuma, were there, watching. Seeing you all, seeing you. You could feel General Attuma's gaze fixed on your person. It was not a surprise, he always saw you and paid more attention than others. In his words, you were nothing more than a spoiled egocentric. You felt that it wouldn't take long for him to come to you.

You were already sweating, your skin technically burned and you kept not getting the spear to hit the target set. Frustration was taking hold and the thought of leaving Talokan's army was no longer heard as a joke.

"You're not tired, are you?"

Oh, that voice. You knew that voice.

"No, sir." You answered by pulling the spear out of the sand.

Attuma, the great Attuma. The general who made your life impossible and who you didn't seem to like too much. There he was, another day watching closely what you were doing, ready to let out any scolding or acidic comments that came to his mind.

"You've been here for a long time, why don't I see any progress?" he asked, pacing around you and your space.

You didn't know what to answer to that, so feigning deafness was the best option. Or that's what you thought.

You prepared to launch the spear again, to follow the cycle you hadn't left since the day started, but a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

Turning your head, you ran into the giant figure of Attuma behind you. You could compare it to a huge mountain, or a god, if your mind got too creative.

His face didn't look very friendly.

"I don't like to be ignored." He threatened, with the firm tone that characterized him and that expression that made several of your comrades break in the first day there.

You swallowed hard. You managed to nod your head, probably timorous to speak in his presence.

He moved the corner of his lips in something that could have been a smile.

"Now, let's fix this mess." he said, causing confusion in you.

Without understanding what he meant, you just watched and felt his big hands line up your body.

"Starting with the position. You're very badly placed." he corrected, taking the liberty of grab your hips and aligning them in the right direction "Remember, we are no longer in the water." His hands went up shamelessly to your shoulders, finally straightening them and putting you in the right position.

Even though Attuma lived near you to watch you train, he had never been so close before. You no longer only felt his touch and look, now you also felt his warmth and even the rubbing between his chest and your back. It would sound crazy, but you would swear that his vibe and everything his being meant was being transmitted to you as if they were waves

You didn't realize it, but your heart started pumping blood exaggeratedly fast.

"Well, kiddo, at least your feet are in the right position." he said, running his big hands across your arms. His fingers leading the way to your hands, which he didn't bother to take firmly. "Take it, but don't take it so hard." he referred to the spear "there is no need for that here."

You listened, probably without believing that General Attuma was really trying to help you. The situation sounded even unreal in your head.

"That's right, that's fine," he commended, helping to increase your surprise. Sounded perhaps very satisfied. "Bring your hand to the back of your head, like this." He positioned the hand in which you had the spear, leaving it well behind and a little high.

Your heart threatened to pop out of your chest when Attuma, in an unexpected move, brought one of his hands to your abdomen. Hot and immense, it rushed to put pressure on your stomach, making you straighten up even more.

Never before did you think of being able to experience that sensation, the sensation of having the palm of Attuma lodged so perfectly on your abdomen. You could swear, with no intention of lying, that there was electricity in those fingers that landed on your skin.

"Stand firm, kiddo." he said, like someone who knows that caused a disaster and stays there to admire it. It was the first time you heard Attuma with that tone, it almost seemed... flirtatious "Look straight ahead, don't get sidetracked." He ordered, bringing his free hand to your jaw and forcing you to raise your face.

Amazing how he could be so abrupt and soft at the same time.

"You already have everything, you just need to visualize. Look at the target, don't see any piece of wood, look at an enemy" You could feel how it stuck more to you, how its skin finally touched yours. "Imagine someone, someone you don't like... Imagine me, if that's what you want."

You couldn't be totally sure, but you bet that out of the corner of your eye you had seen a little smile as soon as he said that last thing. However, there was no time to corroborate it.

"Spear, kiddo. Don't let me down." He warned, saying the latter much lower than all the other instructions.

Afraid of not follow his orders, you thought of someone and saw him as a target. You used the electricity that Attuma circulated through your body and gathered the adrenaline that made your heart beat so fast. You threw the spear, you carried out the order.

A big smile made its way between your lips as you saw your gun stuck in the piece of wood.

"You see that when you listen to me and you are not an arrogant insufferable, you can achieve things." He whispered in your ear.

That made the taste of victory taste a bit bitter, but you accepted it.

Between the surprise of having achieved it and the rarity of having had Attuma's help to do it, you turned around.

You knew Attuma was one of the best warriors Namor possessed, but you still kept surprising yourself whenever you saw him. As tall as trees and a dangerously strong presence.

The fact that he continued having his hands on your body did nothing to calm those new emotions that were beginning to be born in you.

He looked entertaining. You had never seen him like this, you wouldn't had the opportunity to know a version of him different from the so terrifying one he used to show.

"Keep practicing." He said as a last order, finally letting go of you and walking away from you.

Your face was a poem, a poem that brought satisfaction to Attuma. No one could have imagined that you would enjoy his company so much. In fact, no one would have ever thought that you, his less supporter, would come to enjoy his touch so much.

"Maybe I'll come back later, the smug like you always end up failing again." he joked when he saw that expression of discontent on your face. He was so good at his job that he had no hard time understanding that you didn't want him to leave. "You have this time to train on your own and calm that accelerated heart a little."

Your cheeks were colored red. He, for the first time, cracked a smile. A real one, maybe sarcastic, but honest.

It was the first time you wanted Attuma to come back. First time of many others that followed.

[madeholyy]

you choke on your words, but you swallow them faster ; leon kennedy / reader

you had always been afraid of the dark

[ requited love, yearning, hurt/comfort]

You had always been afraid of the dark. Of how it swallowed everything whole like a starving wolf. Your mother always told you that Boogeyman didn’t exist, but he didn’t have to. They ask you how it feels to be so brave. It hurts, it hurts. Because you weren’t brave, it was a facade you wore like a prayer. What was a girl to a God? A sacrificial lamb, a beautiful martyr. He, ever so unkind, left you to rot in the dark each time it nipped at your heels like a herding dog. Your girlhood died where the moon’s illuminating stream of light met taunting shadow. Your place in the world was fragile at best and carnivorous at worst. Or perhaps that was your pessimism hanging off your shoulders worn like a cloak. Cynicism you kept locked away deep inside the barren cavity of your chest as if it was the only thing holding you together. Has fear made you a harsh critic? You had always been hungry for the mundane, the average; a sense of normalcy.

You wished to be ruthless like Persephone, but you were much too soft. The Underworld was not your home; you had lost that long ago. Your mother wove kindness into you and your father his tenderness.

But this wasn’t about the way you were enlaced with benignity to the marrow of your bone. It was about the way your thoughts consume you and steal from you. The way the ocean churned and crashed against the rocks below steep cliff sides.  And how you wished you bled ichor when God gutted you open from navel to throat like your intestines ached for breath. The lingering pieces of girlhood clinging to your person for life and finding none. You were the embodiment of tragedy crafted by human hands; a byproduct of what happens when someone takes what doesn’t belong to them. 

Leon was not unlike you. Perhaps that is what attracted you to him in the first place. He was tenderness veiled beneath bruises— oh, how vibrantly black and blue— not even time could heal. Your wounds sung a similar tune, fitting together like a puzzle. The current he pulled you in with was inescapable, but you hardly wanted to call for help from the shore. Especially not when those impeccable blue eyes held your gaze with such intensity. His stare beheld a harsh winter, but summer peeked out from behind dark pupils with all the warmth it could carry. His reputation preceded him.

There was a question constantly hanging off the tip of your tongue. Can I come home to you? It rattled against your teeth with its overwhelming presence. Especially the night Leon’s lips stood a mere inch from yours with his breath fanning over your face. His pupils blown and his eyes staring into yours as if you’d disappear if he blinked. A moment ago he almost lost you to the same God he abhorred with every fiber of his being and now you stood before him with the same gaze he was watching you with. Oh, how he ached. His fingertips itched to run them through your scalp and pull you closer. How could I ever say no to you? He would reply back if you ever so dared to finally ask him. But he merely stepped back and walked away as if he wasn’t about to take you whole. You forgot how to walk after.

 And you always thought he was invincible. Like nothing even divine could touch him because he would walk away with only a scratch. But you were mistaken. The dark tendrils dancing along underneath his skin in place of his veins frightened you; reminded you of his mortality. You had always been afraid of the dark, but what you should have been afraid of was losing him. And it hung heavy in the air throughout your mission. He was all flesh and bone and borrowed time. Leon was human and humans bled.

Now it was your turn to ache. It came to you like second nature, like breathing, like loving him. Would if you could reach your trembling hand into his chest and rip the parasite out from the depths of his ribcage. You’d hold it in your bloodied hand and squeeze until it bursts. But perhaps your anger was misplaced. It merely performed its duty based on instinct and survival with naught a word of influence spoken in its ear. It would not exist without the aid of another locating a host. The true catalyst was just beyond their grasp. This, however, did nothing to alleviate the anguish and resentment. They were already branded in your bones.

Then Leon would give you that look. The one that cushioned your heart like he was cradling it. It would send a flutter of emotions in your chest with the intensity of his stare. Your face would soften, the hardened expression relaxing into exhaustion and worry. The way you looked back at him threatened to crush his guarded exterior. He would reach over, slow like you were a frightened animal, and gently caress your supple cheek with a gloved hand. Then the dam broke. The tears overflowing from grieving eyes, the struggle to contain the oncoming tidal wave. His hand, his glove. His everyday scent was replaced with something deeply earthy, deeply dreadful. Your own hands cup the one holding your cheek with a gentleness you’d seen in small doses, tiny peeks like morning sunlight through curtains. There was no exchange of words and no need to. These hesitant touches you both partook in said more than mere verbalization ever could.

There was always a lingering wish to be more than this. An unspoken pleading that bounced between your longful gazes. But for now you’d settle for the smaller moments shared in times of reprieve.

When he did speak, his tone was unfamiliar. A warmth blossomed in the hollows of her chest.

“I know.” And he did. He always did. Confirming it was just his way of keeping those three words at bay when they threatened to spill from your swollen lips. Leon didn’t want to hear them because he knew if he did he would give in and he wasn’t good enough for you. You shook your head and inhaled a shaky breath. Leon bit the inside of his cheek and leaned forward only to rest his forehead against yours. You couldn’t have him. He wouldn’t let you. No, Leon was war torn and splintering at the edges. He was meant to be swallowed by the sun, meant to be incinerated to mere ashes. His life was not his own.

The next time you found yourself shadowed in darkness, you felt empty. The unknown lurking beyond your field of vision around castle walls did not chill your nerves. Nor did they cause the hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. You were alone, but you discovered a fear greater than the one before. And it scared you even more.

[lev1hei1chou]

Fun fluffy animes that I loved

This is basically a list of animes that helps get over or deal with the trauma inflicted by various animes. At the moment, I guess fellow JJK fans might need this, and prolly AOT fans on November 5. Have fun watching

Haikyuu

Short Synopsis: Determined to be like the volleyball championship's star player nicknamed "the small giant", Shoyo joins his school's volleyball club.

Episodes: 85 + 5 OVA

The worst thing that can possibly happen is either the 3rd year students graduating or you being unable to support a specific team (nah cuz bro how do you pick and root for one? I end up being happy for the team that won and depressed for the team that lost)

Two movies are coming up soon

Highschool Babysitters

Synopsis: After the sudden death of their parents on a plane crash, two young brothers named Ryūichi Kashima (a freshman in high school) and his younger brother Kotarō (a preschooler) are left orphaned and having no place to call home. The chairwoman of the prestigious Morinomiya Academy offers to take the boys into her care, giving them a new house and free tuition, on the condition that Ryuichi helps out with the school's daycare center while also attending normal classes during school hours.

Episodes: 12 + 1 OVA

Note: Plane crash seems sad but trust me, its only mentioned in the first episode, and the rest 11 is just fluffy goodness. Nothing can prepare you for the cuteness.

Cells At Work

Synopsis: One newcomer red blood cell just wants to do her job. Between bacteria incursions and meeting a certain white blood cell, she's got a lot to learn.

Episodes: 31 + 7

A good mix of science and entertainment. The episodes dont have to be watched in any specific order.

Mr. Osomatsu

Synopsis: The everyday lives of identical sextuplets who cause mischief.

Episodes: 75 + special eps + movies

Has a good amount of 18+ jokes, but its not too overwhelming. It doesnt necessarily follow a plot, and each episode is usually two different stories combined. So, skipping episodes should be fine. Also, it features very popular voice actors for the sextuplets (Geto's VA, Gojo's VA, Levi's VA, Koro sensei's VA, Erwin's VA and Haku/ Sugawara's VA), Iyami (Obanai Iguro's VA), Totoko (Shoko's VA)

The Vampire Dies in No Time

Synopsis: The story follows the famed vampire hunter, Ronaldo, who receives a job to destroy the supposedly invincible vampire lord Draluc and rescue a human boy he allegedly kidnapped.

Episodes: 24

Note: Its a hit or miss, the running gag is used constantly and gets tiring at times, but the overall anime is a good watch. I personally loved John the Armadillo

Buddy Daddies

Synopsis: Assassins Kazuki Kurusu and Rei Suwa meet Miri, a girl looking for her father on Christmas Day. Kazuki, Rei, and Miri unexpectedly end up living together.

Episodes: 12

May get dark at times, so I wont guarantee that itll be a smooth sail, but we get a wholesome conclusion so you can count on that! Otherwise VERY fluffy

Blue Lock

Synopsis: High school soccer players from across Japan gather for a controversial project designed to create the best and most egoistic striker in the world.

Episodes: 24

Isnt exactly true football, but yeah. The anime is pretty fine. It doesnt exactly go under the fluffy anime like i mentioned in the title, but you can check it out if you want.

Free!!

Synopsis: The story is centered on high school student Haruka Nanase, a gifted swimmer. After encountering his childhood rival, Rin Matsuoka from Samezuka Academy, he and his friends revitalize Iwatobi High School's swim team.

Episodes: 37 + specials and movies

This anime to me, personally is what haikyuu is. A great comfort anime which knows how to make the viewer connect with the characters. I dislike it when the whole anime gets reduced to just fanservice, like guys lets look beyond that and actually enjoy the plot.

Life Lessons With Uramichi Oniisan

Synopsis: From smoking and exercising to nihilistic outbursts, everyone's big brother Uramichi always brings up the not-so-moral side to his life lessons

Episodes: 13

This one is very real and relatable in many levels. Theres a lot of screenshots and panels available online, so you can check a few out before watching!

Obey Me

Synopsis: Brothers Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor are among the most powerful demons in the Devildom, serving as officers on the student council at the Royal Academy of Diavolo (RAD). However, being avatars of the seven deadly sins, their behaviors often tend toward the extreme. Their everyday antics belie their high status and fearsome reputations among others of their kind. When viewed behind the scenes, the members of this family are more lovable—and laughable—than they first seem!

Episodes: 24 + 1

It's based on a popular otome game, and can be watched as it is even if you havent played the game. The basic idea is that theyre based on the 7 sins, so their personalities are really amusing. As for the plot, its pretty wholesome.

Play It Cool Guys

Synopsis: Despite their distinctive personalities, Souma Shiki, Hayate Ichikura, Shun Futami, and Takayuki Mima all have one thing in common: though naturally clumsy, the four disguise their embarrassment from tiny slip-ups by maintaining a composed demeanor. However, it is actually the guys' airheaded natures that makes the girls' hearts throb. No matter what happens in their daily lives, the boys do their best not to lose their cool!

Episodes: 24

Each episode is barely 10-13 minutes, so it just doesnt feel enough lol. Most of their slip ups are relatable and could get a chuckle from the viewer. The art style is a little different but its good. Definitely worth watching, once or even multiple times.

Tanaka Kun is Always Listless

Synopsis: For high school student Tanaka, the act of being listless is a way of life. Known for his inattentiveness and ability to fall asleep anywhere, Tanaka prays that each day will be as uneventful as the last, seeking to preserve his lazy lifestyle however he can by avoiding situations that require him to exert himself. Along with his dependable friend Oota who helps him with tasks he is unable to accomplish, the lethargic teenager constantly deals with events that prevent him from experiencing the quiet and peaceful days he longs for.

Episodes: 13 + specials

Not gonna lie, Ive wanted to act like Tanaka. The characters are lovable and the anime is worth giving a try. An underrated gem. I personally loved the school festival episode.

@satoruukisser hope this helps!

[90-ghost]

here is a poem by polish poet Zbigniew Herbert

Report From The Besieged City

Too old to carry arms and fight like the others - they graciously gave me the inferior role of chronicler I record - I don't know for whom - the history of the siege I am supposed to be exact but I don't know when the invasion began two hundred years ago in December in September perhaps yesterday at dawn  everyone here suffers from a loss of the sense of time all we have left is the place the attachment to the place we still rule over the ruins of temples spectres of gardens and houses if we lose the ruins nothing will be left I write as I can in the rhythm of interminable weeks monday: empty storehouses a rat became the unit of currency tuesday: the mayor murdered by unknown assailants wednesday: negotiations for a cease-fire the enemy has imprisoned our messengers  we don't know where they are held that is the place of torture  thursday: after a stormy meeting a majority of voices rejected  the motion of the spice merchants for unconditional surrender  friday: the beginning of the plague saturday: our invincible defender N.N. committed suicide sunday: no more water we drove back an attack at the eastern gate called the Gate of the Alliance all of this is monotonous I know it can't move anyone I avoid any commentary I keep a tight hold on my emotions I write about the facts  only they it seems are appreciated in foreign markets  yet with a certain pride I would like to inform the world that thanks to the war we have raised a new species of children our children don’t like fairy tales they play at killing awake and asleep they dream of soup of bread and bones just like dogs and cats in the evening I like to wander near the outposts of the city along the frontier of our uncertain freedom. I look at the swarms of soldiers below their lights I listen to the noise of drums barbarian shrieks truly it is inconceivable the City is still defending itself the siege has lasted a long time the enemies must take turns nothing unites them except the desire for our extermination Goths the Tartars Swedes troops of the Emperor regiments of the Transfiguration  who can count them  the colours of their banners change like the forest on the horizon from delicate bird's yellow in spring through green through red to winter's black and so in the evening released from facts I can think  about distant ancient matters for example our friends beyond the sea I know they sincerely sympathize they send us flour lard sacks of comfort and good advice they don’t even know their fathers betrayed us our former allies at the time of the second Apocalypse their sons are blameless they deserve our gratitude therefore we are grateful they have not experienced a siege as long as eternity those struck by misfortune are always alone the defenders of the Dalai Lama the Kurds the Afghan mountaineers  now as I write these words the advocates of conciliation have won the upper hand over the party of inflexibles a normal hesitation of moods fate still hangs in the balance cemeteries grow larger the number of defenders is smaller yet the defence continues it will continue to the end and if the City falls but a single man escapes he will carry the City within himself on the roads of exile he will be the City we look in the face of hunger the face of fire face of death worst of all - the face of betrayal and only our dreams have not been humiliated

❤️❤️

[hwaightme]

All of me

💐 pairing: yunho x f!reader 💐 genre: fluff, marriage au, just love, established relationship 💐 summary: "All of me, loves all of you... Give your all to me, I'll give my all to you..." - All of Me by John Legend; looking over old photographs had never been quite as sweet as this. 💐 wordcount: 3.8k 💐 warnings/tags: weddings, marriage, crying, comfort, yunho is sappy and soft, wedding pictures, literally just a lot of hugs, couple supposed to be adulting but cuddles come first 💐 wordcount: @doom-fics @layzfeelit @acciocriativity @izuijin @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 💐 a/n: Hello there, this is the product of having gone totally soft for Yunho (@/senpai-of-doom and @/honey-lemon-goose y'all attacking me with quality fics and @/layzfeelit with Idol Radio goodness and us just fully drifting into Yunho-land). Thank you <3

“Babe~ Honey~ my LOVE! BABE! BAAABE!” you could barely make out the sound of shouting over the roar of the vacuum cleaner. Assuming the worst, you slammed the power button and dropped the pipe, rushing into the room from where Yunho’s voice had emanated.

“WHAT? What is HAPPENING?” you yelled back and flicked your wrist, action dramatized by the cleaning rag you had instinctively grabbed while in a panicked rush. It was supposed to be cleaning day, but after three years of living together, you should know better than to expect it to go smoothly and for the gentle giant to be obedient enough to complete all the chores without making a comedy show out of it.

Clad in an ancient t-shirt, part of a double set which you had bought on one of your early dates as a joke, track suit bottoms and socks with cartoon golden retrievers, the man, the apple of your eye, was standing in the middle of the living room, grinning and shining like the sun itself. Upon catching the sight of you, he ignored your temporary distress and only smiled with more adoration, stretching his arms out as wide as he could.

“C’mere, Y/N, I miss you.” He asked, clapping his fingers against his palms, beckoning you.

“Oh my word, Yun.”

You rolled your eyes, but in a matter of seconds were wrapped up in your husband's arms. You were surprised that he did not tease you about the atrociously tied bun on the top of your head, one that appeared to be more of a nest than anything, nor the fact that you had, once again, stolen one of his hoodies because ‘you were confident that this particular one matched your leggings the best’. No such thing. You just liked to be enveloped in a hug all day. The real thing was even better, of course, but you had to be functional human beings and go do adult things too, and latching onto one another unfortunately prevented you from achieving that.

“Babe, were you about to… d-rag me?” there it was. No wonder this man was practically best friends with your father. Sense of humour was on par.

You groaned and pulled away from him to give him a playful punch on the upper arm, but soon returned to having both your hands behind his back, grabbing on as tight as you could without tiring yourself. Dropping the rag on the floor, you let your fingers flitter across his tee and give you a better hold.

Cheekily, he stuck his tongue out at you and pulled you in again, cradling you as he rocked gently from side to side. You found comfort in having your head resting against his chest. Nothing else existed in these moments, and any worries that would accumulate evaporated, or appeared so small compared to the undivided attention and love in Yunho’s embrace that you felt invincible. Your arms dropped slightly, drifting to a more relaxed position as you realised that this was one of his ‘long hugs’, and simply sank into the feeling.

He had been awfully giddy and clingy the entire day, actually make that a week, ever since you had attended a wedding of one of your mutual friends. Yunho had almost turned into a blubbering fountain, competing with the grandparents attending, during the event, squeezing your hand until you swore your fingers went numb and you had to pry yourself away to grab the ‘emergency tissue pack’ in your purse and a bottle of water. Showering you in compliments and gazing at you as though it had been your own wedding day, the man who you had the pleasure of saying ‘I do’ to two years ago, made you fall in love again. And again. It was a common occurrence, and happened even if he got competitive and destroyed you in a video game far too many times for you to remain non-aggressive. But the soft cheeks that you just wanted to squish as he grinned at you boyishly were enough to make you forget that you barely knew what button was where on the controller.

As you moved in a slow dance, music remaining in your imagination, you spotted a thick album with a cream cover lying on the coffee table. It bore your names, and had been littered with doodles, stickers and notes that you had made together, having deemed the binding too formal, impersonal and rigid for your shared liking.

“Yun, what’s our wedding album doing out here and not on the shelf?” you questioned, tilting your head to eye Yunho with suspicion. He bit his lip, suddenly having grown shy, and played with the edge of your, technically his, hood.

“Well… I was wiping the dust off, as you instructed, and… I don’t know, it just happened to fly out at me.”

“Fly out, huh?” you chuckled, causing him to give you a small smile in return.

“Yes. On the wings of love.”

“Cheesy.”

“We always ask for extra cheese, hon.”

“True that, but wow that wedding had an effect on you, huh?” you read his actions as though he was an open book, something which had been one of the reasons why Yunho knew within a month that you were the one.

“Hey, it’s a happy moment, okay?” he took you by the shoulders and pressed his forehead against yours, knowing that the closeness and the ridiculous angle at which he would purposefully peer into your eyes would make you laugh. And bingo. You melted into his favourite sound and gave him a small peck on the lips as a way of answering.

“Do you want to look through it?”

The tone of his voice was almost concerned, like he did not want to disappoint you. Out of the two of you, he was definitely the more sentimental and enthusiastic one and you: level-headed and logical, but in nearly all cases, it worked. And in the ones where opinions did not match, you respected each other and communicated your points clearly. But the inkling of fear still did not leave him, and he felt that it would stay with him for all his life. Upsetting you was his personal nightmare, and so he always did all he could to keep an eye out, read the room, learn to understand you fully, perhaps even better than how you understood yourself.

You shifted to rest your hands on his hips, batting your eyes to prolong the silence that fell over you as soon as he asked the question. But you could not keep the game up for long, a sigh escaping you as you gleamed and stepped closer, with Yunho in tow, to the couch.

“Let’s do this.”

Initially, you sat down side by side as you took the album, but your husband, apparently, had other plans. With haste, he pulled you down into a half-lying position, pressed flush against him while he occupied the corner for balance.

“Who is dragging who now?”

“Can’t be me, nope.” He stared up at the ceiling, the walls, anywhere except you to feign total obliviousness.

“Really?” you raised an eyebrow, stifling a giggle.

“I am cuddling with my wife. What is dragging, pray tell?”

“Wouldn’t know. My soft-ass husband erased that from my lexicon it seems.” You shot back, shuffling into a more comfortable position.

“Now about soft ass-”

“Don’t you dare bro.” you cut him off in mock shock.

“Don’t bro me, we are literally about to look at our wedding photos and you call me bro?” he joined you in your miniature spectacle, pretending to have been offended by your use of the word. Even though you were just kidding, you did not want to ruin the moment and take things too far, instead settling for a simple:

“Excuse me bro.”

“You are excused. And I’m not your bro.” at the speed of light, he responded, and your jaw dropped. You could hear smugness in his tone, and simply had to twist your head to confirm your suspicions about the source of his comment.

“Did you just quote a TikTok at me?”

“Did you not know you married a hype house member?”

“Well dang sorry about that, I think I need to step up my game.” You concluded, nodding to yourself, your lips curling into a smile.

You flipped the album the right way around, pausing to trace the details of the adorable chaos with which it was decorated, recalling the evening when this idea had even crossed yours and Yunho’s minds. That same night you found out that the convenience store next to your shared apartment not only provided the best snacks at two o’clock in the morning, but also had an astonishingly large array of arts and crafts supplies tucked away towards the back. In the tranquility, Yunho decided to tangle his legs with yours to lock you in place, and whispered in your ear, inadvertently sending a shiver down your spine.

“Is there any higher to go than you?” you snorted and leaned your head back.

“You are layering on the cheese TODAY, do you have macaroni with that?”

“No, you will settle for an entire wheel instead, my love. Now go, go, open it, open it!” he egged you on like a child begging to get to the gifts on Christmas day.

In many ways, Yunho was like a bouncy ball of pure energy, while still remaining responsible, dependable and at times, too good to be true. He was the most genuine, sweet angel who stopped at nothing to make you feel loved. The smallest things about you and what you did excited him, and he took great care in memorising the sources of your happiness, only to double, triple them. He had a bright soul, and as soon as you let him, shared it all with you. It was no secret that he wore his heart on his sleeve, and maybe that was the real reason why he did not mind sharing his sweaters with you, since you already had it in your possession.

He was your sunshine on a rainy day, a vitamin in illness, and your biggest cheerleader. You were not kidding about the last one, either. Yunho had waited for an entire half-day, in the middle of the business district, for you to complete a job interview and assessment day and for him to be able to support you and gift you the bracelet you had always wanted. At the same time, he had trusted you enough to be his anchor and his guide out of the darkest places, reaching out and never letting go. Be it when he was overworked, or simply because it was one of those days when nothing seemed to be going right, you were always there for him, and he did not need to pretend to be strong and above being human. Both of you loved one another for everything you did and felt, for all the perfect imperfections.

This was exactly why your wedding had been a bundle of chaos – the two of you had been strongly against any professional curation, and instead decided to make the event what it should be: a wild celebration of your life as individuals, and your future life as an officiated union. Involving his friends and your own in the planning and execution had also been the best decision, as both the reception and after party had turned out to be even  more exhilarating than you could have envisioned. Even as you walked down the aisle, his two close partners in crime: Wooyoung and San, nearly stole the show as flower boys with extra flair and style.

“I totally forgot that Woo nearly crashed the basket into your aunt’s face, LOOK AT HER!” you exclaimed, pointing at the photograph that had captured the terror in Yunho’s relative’s eyes terrifically. The next picture, albeit slightly blurry but you begged for your resident photographer Hongjoong to send it anyways, showed Wooyoung bowing to the poor woman as though he had just finished a theatre performance, hair almost brushing the floor.

“Hold on, look at this, I never noticed how your baby cousin looked as we were saying our vows? Look at him, he is so cute!” Yunho was turning into a puddle as he relived the memories while viewing the photos, one after the other. It was so easy for him to drift back to the day, as each second was one he thanked all that was good in the world for. He had dreamed of it as soon as he had progressed into a relationship with you, and that wish had come true.

You took on the role of a makeshift stand, keeping the album up by the cover, while Yunho did the honours of flipping the pages. Each time you stopped to study a new one, he would rest his hand on your stomach, enjoying the sensation of feeling your breathing, your heartbeat. Any sign of you being so close to him both physically and spiritually, the realisation that you were here, only his, made his brain go haywire and his emotions fluctuate beyond any control.

Soon enough, you moved to the photographs from the celebration after the ceremony, and that was when Yunho felt his breath hitch. Changed out of the formal wedding outfits into more comfortable, fashionable and dance-friendly attire, you looked spectacular. He did not look too bad either if he could say so himself, but you… the way you had been caught mid-glance and were looking at him as if he was your entire universe… he could not help but squeeze you to him making you yelp.

“Hey I have organs by the way!”

“It’s okay you can have mine.” He mumbled as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck for a moment, leaving a light trail of kisses.

“Odd, but charming.” You commented, trying to get the image out of your head as you nudged your husband to flip the page once more.

“Only the best for you.”

“Then I’d like to keep you in one piece and alive, please.” Your simple answer, probably something he should not even dwell on, made him even softer than before. Yunho really was in a sentimental mood.

It was beginning to get to him. The disco ball decorations paired with peonies, the dazzling lights. The company of only the closest people who had watched you two grow over the years, and saw you two develop a beautiful romantic symbiosis. Even the silly napkins on the tables that had mini caricatures of the guests printed on them, taken from funny photos you had saved on your phone as ‘blackmail material’, were hitting him right in the impossibly strong feelings.

Though you had the original polaroids saved in an envelope which he had left in its proper location, between the thick book of Impressionism that you had asked him to buy for you, and a few video game discs which had overflowed from another shelf, there was a picture of the wall that had been created on the day of your wedding. The task had been simple – you asked all those attending to take the instant print film camera set down on a table to snap a picture of themselves, either as they were or with any of the props provided, and clip it to any of the strings wrapped around a wooden frame. By the end of the night, as the champagne kept on flowing and people got more snap happy, there were so many squares of joy that they had all been about to all fall down to the floor.

A couple of them had been zoomed in on, Hongjoong holding them in a position that reduced the glare, his immaculate manicure peeking in through the gaps. One was a picture of Yunho surrounded by a group of your closest friends, all in various states of blissful insanity and looking like they were all about to jump at the lens. The other was you, in a laughing fit, together with his friends, at this point – brothers. They had grown incredibly close with you quite quickly; as a matter of fact, it was through one of them that you had met in the first place. Who else except Mingi, who had been unanimously appointed as best man, could have known where to find Yunho’s love of his life and beyond? Could it be any better than this? How could he be so lucky?

He was frozen in place, unable to even return to his duties, so you turned to the next set of photos yourself. You attempted to comment a few times on the details in the pictures you found funny, like Seonghwa literally wiping down a table in the background of one, Hongjoong caught mid chase as Wooyoung stole the camera, or Jongho and Yeosang lifting a plate of fried chicken – a dish which the latter had insisted upon including, to inspect it. But to no avail. Your husband remained silent, and you swore his heart started to beat louder.

“Yun?” You asked, your voice barely audible as you moved to the next part of the collection.

“Yes?” he sounded chocked up, instilling alarm in you as you lowered the album.

“Yunho…”

“Y/N…?” he mirrored, breathing shallow. You twisted back to him and were in for a surprise.

“Yunho, are you… crying? No way, Yun, baby, are you crying, why?” you cooed, completely abandoning the album, and raising your hands to his face, cupping it. You had caught him just as he was getting misty eyed, but with your affection, the tears that welled up began to roll as soon as he blinked.

You brushed them away with your thumbs, lifting yourself up to not squeeze on Yunho’s body too much, letting the album fall off you and onto the floor. He was always your priority. Even though he had turned on the waterworks, he was, somehow, still smiling, though a little more pouty than usual.

“My love, what’s happened, talk to me.” you mumbled, feeling both his arms wrap around you and pull you in. “Hey, let’s sit, come on.” Fully obeying you, he took you like a koala, and shifted so he was against the back of the couch, and your legs were on either side of him, with you sitting square on his lap. “Yun, baby, was it the table? That last photo was just the table, you know the one with the flo-”

“Y/N why are you so amazing?!” he wailed, nearly knocking all oxygen out of you as he buried himself in your hoodie, inhaling your scent, searching for comfort which you were more than willing to give. You barely had the opportunity to tuck your arms in so that Yunho would not hurt himself.

“Oh, so it was those photos, right?”

“Mhm…” he hummed, not wanting to look up at you, feeling his cheeks and ears going red. It was his hoodie anyways it did not matter if he cried into it a little bit. He had the right, dang it.

“Yunnie, that is just us and our friends…”

“But it’s so perfect…”

“You’re so precious, my love. Come on, deep breaths for me, okay?” he could not answer with words, body shuddering as he struggled to contain a sob, and merely nodded against your frame. You poked his head playfully, grinning as he appeared from his temporary hideout and grew bashful.

No matter how he was, he was always beautiful to you. You had seen each other at less than ideal times, and here you were, still together and stronger than ever. What could a couple of happy tears do? Only make you want to cover him in kisses, which was exactly what you did as you regained your balance and were centimetres away from his lips. The action left him beaming, and you tried your best to wipe away more as much of the streams staining his cheeks as you could.

“Let’s look at Mingi’s breakdancing pics instead, how about that?”

“Y/N…”

The day kept on flashing in Yunho’s mind, and grew into a moving reel of all the time you had spent together so far. Soon enough, the future he had imagined with you also made an appearance, and new tears started pricking at the corners of his eyes. You tried to mimic his approach and lowered your head to make a funny expression, knocking your forehead into his. Bumping your nose with his, you further distracted him by announcing ‘boop’ every time you did so, right until he erupted into uncontrollable giggles and muttered:

“Gosh, I am a sappy mess, aren’t I?”

“That’s what I like about you, sweet love of mine.”

“Only like, and only that?”

“Okay, love, and much more than just that.”

“What else?” you had leaned into him, resting your chin on his shoulder and snaking around to embrace him back.

“I would love you even if you were a worm, Yunho, I think that says it all.” You recalled the time you had gone to change the bedsheets and returned to your husband, a grown, tall man, rolled into the old ones like a burrito, wiggling back and forth.

“I’d love you if you were a worm, too. Even if you were bacteria, you’d be mine.”

“Mm, microbiomes, now you are really speaking my language Yun.”

A quietude spread across the living room, together with the rays of midmorning sun that were breaking into it through the windows. Basking in this serene warmth, you almost did not want to return to your chores for the day but had to give it a shot.

“Yun, we have to continue…” he sniffled in response, making you look up at him again. He was forcing himself to start up again, only this time to keep you right where you were. “Oh no you don’t! Darling, we must-”

“I need attention, your departure is detrimental to my health.”

“Baby using big words, now I must stay.” You teased and pecked his cheek, leaving him more than satisfied as he grunted in agreement with your final decision.

Toppling back into a lying position, he traced circles on the small of your back, deep in thought. As you started getting sleepy, totally immersed in the soothing sensation, Yunho tapped you a couple of times, mischievous.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” you answered warily.

“…Remember what song we did that slow dance to?”

“Yunho don’t even think about it you know I’ll cry to that.”

“My head’s under water, but I’m breathing fine~ you’re crazy and I’m out of my mind~”

“Stop, seriously stop!” you chuckled, growing more vulnerable by the second.

“Really, such a basic song choice.”

“You know I love it, and you said so too!” you exclaimed, while he used his pause to clear his throat, and softly began to sing the chorus, leaving your vision blurry, and you falling in love yet again.

“‘Cause all of me…loves all of you…”