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sunshineandspencer · 3 days

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heyyy!! idk if you take requests or anything but I was listening the song “Three Letters” from She Loves Me and heard the line “If it weren’t for your endearing letters/ I’d be flying south will all the geese” and totally thought of Garcia signing up Spencer for a lonely hearts thing (as a kinda joke kinda not) and so he starts writing the reader but don’t know it’s each other. then they agree to meet somewhere and realize it’s each other and?! idk if that makes sense lol thought it was cute though

Three Letters (Request)

A/N: Hello!!!! I definitely do. I just haven’t had the chance to sort it all out (colds and farming sims own my life) but let me tell you this idea has me kicking and screaming. I’ve done something like this before but I can’t find it for the life of me and I love the idea that they’re writing to each other and just don’t realise - I took it as the sense that they’re co-workers and Garcia signed them both up, not expecting them to get each other. I really hope this is what you were looking for!! Also I have never heard of a lonely hearts thing (I’m British) but I love the idea of it, and hope that it’s definitely what google told me it is.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: Garcia is tired of Spencer being single, and if the only way to fix that is to sign him up for a singles pen-pal society, then so be it. While she’s at it, let her add their other co-worker as well, there’s no way that could have any impact.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: fluff, implied sa but nothing detailed

be added to the taglist

Some part of him knew that this was a good thing, that talking to someone and hopefully getting a relationship out of this was a good thing.

However, Penelope - loving, caring, thoughtful Penelope - had been hard at work ever since she met him to find him somebody to love. It.. hadn’t gone well, and that is the politest possible way he could’ve phrased that without hurting her feelings.

First there were the dates, with a collection of either Penelope, JJ or Elle’s friends - none of which had turned out great.

In fact, one woman had stormed out the minute she saw him, because she assumed that FBI agents were all muscle and Spencer was the last thing she wanted to see. Another zoned out every single time he started talking, just humming or nodding until even he realised that she wasn’t interested.. she fell asleep in her damn salad. The final straw, however, was the woman who got outrageously drunk and tried to blatantly ignore his aversion to touch.

He got out of that as soon as he found her friend to get her home safely, and swore off ever trusting a date from any of those three women ever again.

Penelope, however, didn’t give up.

Her next plan of attack started online, with dating websites. Notorious in their line of work for usually being full of catfish and UnSubs, and many dating websites led to men and women being murdered. But she’s insistent, and he’s desperate to love somebody.

There are only several things that went better than his first foray into the online dating scene, and one of those is a vehicular fire, which tells you all you need to know.

Several of the women he matched with ended up only looking for someone to help them cheat on their significant others, many of them married. Which made his bright outlook on love slightly dimmer. The final woman from the online dating websites was the woman who turned out to actually be an UnSub - looking for cute young men to complete her ‘collection’, a human version of an antique doll set.

It was not a fun case to take part in, certainly not when he was greeted with the way he would’ve turned out had he met up with the woman and not done a background check on her first.

After that, he firmly shut down Penelope’s insistence on dating apps as well, his technophobia had barely survived having to use a computer for so long, and the library computers were an embarrassing place to try and match with the ‘love of his life’. So an app on his phone. Absolutely not.. he doesn't even know how to do that.

There was a break, a few months where Penelope didn’t try to push him into anything new or exciting, or downright horrifying. He turned twenty-four, he had a failed date with JJ, in which she actually bought along Penelope, and suddenly it all changed.

In his letterbox a couple weeks after that, was a letter. It had his home address on, but not his name, merely addressed to whoever this may concern.

It was gorgeous craftsmanship, a cream envelope with an actual lilac wax stamp on the back, with little flowers pressed into the wax. Of course, assuming this was an incoming case, he called Garcia to try and trace it, where she finally came clean.

“I’m so sorry! I completely forgot, I signed you up to a lonely hearts club. It’s a small society for two single people to exchange letters anonymously so you can get to know each other over time. It’s all handwritten! I thought you’d like that more than having to use a computer again. I’m sorry pumpkin, I- I can take you out of the society if you like?”

He thought about it, he actually thought about it so long that Penelope actually thought he’d hung up on her, or died, or something else entirely because he’s never this quiet.

But.. how bad could it really be?

It could, theoretically, be terrible, but it can’t hurt to try one last thing. He would have contact with whoever this is - he’s assuming a woman from the handwriting and the care gone into just the envelope alone - and if it all goes to hell then it just wasn’t meant to be.

One last try at love, he can grant himself that. Anonymously, he can do that, give himself a pen name and try to fall for words on a page - his written word was always better than his verbal flirting anyway.

As it turned out, however, he didn’t need to give himself a name, she’d given him one already.

“Hello sweet thing! Sorry if that comes off as too strong already, I’m just incredibly nervous and didn’t know what else to call you, so that is officially your name from now on. Unless you hate it, then you can absolutely tell me and I promise not to cry about it. I really don’t know what to say, do I start with my favourite things? Well.. I like Doctor Who, and I’ve always--”

The more he read of the letter, the more he wished it was even longer. This woman, wherever she is, whoever she is, is starting to make this out as the best idea Penelope has ever had.

He all but crashed his way into the stationary store, grabbing the prettiest envelopes and pens, and little details to add to the letter that he was so excited to add. Steamrolling through the store and getting back home to quickly respond. Instantly realising he was being far more.. poetic than he meant.

It was the combination of the childish excitement of having a penpal, his mother reading him love poems as a child, and his extensive knowledge on love letters.

Hell, he even ended his own letter with a Shakespeare quote. Basic, he knows, but it’s hard to think of anything beyond wanting her reply.

“‘Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow.’ Yours, Sweet thing.”

It had been nearly three months of exchanging letters, and he was absolutely smitten with this woman. They had stuck to the rules and not given away any of their information, only talking about the things they like and eventually writing nearly daily.

It would be daily if it weren’t for the useless postage system.

He knows that she lives pretty close to him, he knows her address, plus they’d both admitted to searching each other’s houses, and they’re only about twenty minutes away by car.

That’s it, however, they haven’t looked for the other person despite being desperate for it.

They had described themselves through letters, but both ultimately agreed to just talk and see how it goes and base their furthering relationship off that rather than off their looks. Of course, that just sprung up more worries that he won’t visually be enough whenever they finally meet.

Meeting was, by far, the one thing he both wanted and dreaded.

This woman, who he had only ever addressed with a barrage of cute nicknames and poetical references, who understood his every word and reciprocated his nerdy obsessions and added her own.. he wants to know her so badly.

There is a very big underlying fear that the minute they meet, it’ll be over, the magic of what they are will fade and he’ll lose all this. The thought of her letters being sent to someone else physically pains him.

Penelope, ecstatic that one of her ideas had finally worked, had been badgering to meet with his ‘mystery woman’ for weeks now.

Finally, when she also, tentatively asked to meet with him for Valentine’s Day of all days, he knew she couldn’t deny her a single thing. Not when she sent with her letter, a coupon for flowers on their date.

A date. God.. he has a date for Valentine’s Day.

Not really a holiday he’s ever put much thought into before, but now it suddenly felt like the most important day that had ever existed. And one that came up far sooner than he expected it to.

Even with the place booked - a cute little café a little ways between both their apartments - and his outfit picked, and a card and little teddy picked with the help of Penelope, he didn’t feel ready. Perhaps it’s the lingering fear of rejection the minute she has to deal with him in person, or the fact that his last dates certainly didn’t go well.

Even with Penelope’s reassurance that she’ll adore him, especially after she actually read through his twelve page letter after she’d asked for his opinion on Egyptian mythology. Sending back her own absurdly long letter with a bunch more questions and her own fun facts that she could remember. He’s still absolutely losing his mind at the thought of having to finally meet her.

He got to the café about half an hour earlier than he needed to, wanting to make sure it was perfect (definitely not because he would’ve gone insane at home).

Spending whatever time it took for her to arrive making the table look nice, messing with his hair in the reflection and wondering if it really was getting too long. Constantly fixing his tie, and redoing it a hundred times over and tucking into his maroon cardigan sweater which Elle had called ‘dorky’.

Once it got to fifteen minutes before their date should’ve started, he felt a light tap on his shoulder, immediately rushing to get up and turn to meet his mystery writer. But.. it’s just the waiter, asking if he wanted another drink.

Jesus, they probably think he’s been stood up, and he quickly asks for another glass of water.

As the man walked away, he ran his fingers through his hair again, looking towards the door - he’d been sat with his back facing it or else he wouldn’t have stopped staring for fifteen minutes.

Immediately, someone was looking at him, a vague sense of recognition swimming across her face. For a few split seconds he thinks it could be her, a beautiful woman with a bouquet of purple lilac blooms in her hands, but then he realises who it is, offering a small wave.

She’s friends with Penelope and, by extension, he’s spoken to and interacted with her quite a few times. They got on pretty well but never anything more than that since she’s always busy, part of the FBI’s CSI unit, and she’d even helped on a few cases before. But she isn’t here for him, she can’t be.

Walking over, she gives him a bright smile, eyes darting to the empty table and three empty water glasses - he’s been here for a while.

“Spencer! Hi! It’s nice to see you.”

“You too, I like the outfit.”

Looking down at herself for a few moments, she grins and then looks back up, doing a quick spin and then settling him with a mock-serious look.

“I’ve got a hot date, Penny said he would like this.”

“You look beautiful, don’t worry.”

Ahh, there goes any chance that she’s here for him, offering a smile and reassuring her that she looks great, eyes darting behind her to the door as she bounced on the balls of her feet. Eventually sucking a deep breath between her teeth and looking back as well.

Which got his attention, especially when she looked around the rest of the café with a confused look on her face. Sighing softly and looking around, his date wasn’t here, may as well help her.

“What does he look like?”

Turning back, she offered him a bashful smile, but she wasn’t going to turn down his offer of help, not when he’s tall and can see over all the stupid tall people around the café. Also.. it’s a very weird thing to explain.

Moving a hand to fidget with her necklace, his eyes focusing on it, vividly remembering her letters.

“--honestly, I have the coping mechanisms of a child. I still play with my necklace when I get nervous.”

“I don’t actually know, it’s sort of a blind date. Really hard to explain, Penelope kind of set us up in a way. I’m actually about fifteen minutes early so he’s probably not even here.”

There is.. no way this is happening right now. She’s still looking around the café for her mystery date, who might just be standing in front of her and he.. doesn’t know what to say or how to get his tongue to pick up from the base of his mouth.

Suddenly, and pretty violently, he’s flooded with the personality of the woman he’s been talking to for months, all of it projected onto her in front of him. It matches, from what he remembers.

The vague descriptions, her proximity to the FBI building, the fact she knows Penelope, the little TARDIS pin he’d seen on her lanyard that he never got the nerves to ask her about. Turning up to a date with a guy she doesn’t know, holding a bouquet of flowers that clearly weren’t for her, causing the flower token in his back pocket to start burning.

Fishing it out and stepping closer, getting her attention, surprised eyes snapping up to meet his at his sudden proximity. Until he took her hand and shoved the handmade coupon into it, her breathing immediately coming in short as they both looked down at it. Her voice trembled slightly.

“Oh~ hello sweet thing..”

“.. hello.” At his soft voice, she looked up and she gave him a completely bashful smile that matched the cute little poetic ramblings she’s been obsessed with for months. “Uhm, are those for me then?”

They both looked down at the flowers in her hands and she handed them over, feeling her heart shoot up into her throat as their hands brushed. Pointing at the purple lilac blooms as if he wouldn’t already know the meaning.

Needing to focus on something other than the fact that she’s going to kiss Penelope Garcia hard on the mouth for this.

“They uh- they are usually given to someone you meet for the first time, and signify the first emotions of love. Kind of love at first sight- not- not that I’m saying I’m in love with you, that would be a crazy thing to say on the first date- absolutely crazy--”

He eventually shut her up, leaning down to peck her lips softly, all nerves and panicked rambling dropped to just look up at him, in utter awe. Okay, maybe she can fall in love with him, she’s already halfway there with a month of letters.

Carefully, he guided her to their table with a hand on the small of her back as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and also he’d just kissed her to shut her up, and it worked.

“It’s fine, I love them, really. And Penelope was right, as your date I love the outfit.”

“Thank you, I love your sweater and-- ohmygod--”

As they sat down at the table, she buried her face into her hands, causing him to panic slightly, reaching out to carefully touch her shoulder. Saying her name worriedly as he set the flowers onto the table.

But she just looked up with a soft whine of embarrassment, peaking at him over her fingers.

“I called you my hot date to your face! That’s so embarrassing.”

Instantly relieved that it wasn’t anything he’d done, easing into a soft laugh and leaning back in his chair after squeezing her shoulder.

“It was cute! You didn’t even know who I was and you still called me hot.”

“It’s mortifying, you’ll never forget it and use it in your wedding vows or something.”

Sure, she was joking, but in the back of his head he filed something away for the future. A tiny, mental box, labelled ‘wedding vows’, wondering how long it would be until he could actually use that.

Until then, he’d have to stick to ordering dinner on their first date.

Want more?! Good!

taglist ( ˘ ³˘)♥ @peliides @peachsodameg @angelinajolie0213 @jiggly-puff-12 @khxna @kennedy2156 @trulycayla @none-of-your-bullshit @alexxavicry @meg-black @princess76179 @khxna @chicken-fifi (if your tag is here and it doesn't work, check your settings to see who is allowed to tag you or this might not work)

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #request #fluff

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snakeredbirdbatkatana · 2 days

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Clone baby AU TimKonBartCassie

Part 1

"Don't be mad."

Tim is more than aware he might not be the most sane, he also is more than aware that sometimes he does things that can be considered rage inducing or morally wrong but he can't say he regrets his choices.

Especially when she's seven pounds four ounces and just holding her makes him ready to burn the whole word down.

A perfect blend of him, Kon, Bart, and Cassie which oddly enough was extremely difficult to do since as it turns out genetic sequencing which is already absurdly complicated gets even worse when you add two more people.

She's perfect.

It was a spur of the moment decision a nightmare that drove him right back into the center of his grief.

He was staring at his previous cloning calculations and for a moment he was so incrediblely selfish.

He wanted a piece of his friends proof in a way of how deeply devoted he is to them. Something that no matter what couldn't be taken from him, something he could love unconditionally.

In a darker part of his mind he admits that the baby, his child who is incredible could have been just his and Kon's a half kryptonian but in his experience that is still too mortal.

But combined with a speedster and demigod he might have just made an unbeatable weapon. Not that his little girl will ever be that, he won't allow it.

"Tim is that a baby?" Kon gasps.

He only had held her for five minutes the greatest thing in the word had only been alive for ten minutes before he raced to titans tower holding his precious cargo.

All of them, the other parents? His friends sitting peacefully watching some program completely unaware of what's he's done. Not that it stayed that way for long.

"Is that Luci?" Bart asks.

All of them turn even Tim completely shocked his entire explanation that he had been planning for the last few hours gone with one sentence.

"Bart do you know this random baby? Also Luci what kind of name is that? Tim why do you have a baby?Cassie demands trying to sound stern but everyone can tell is beyond confused.

Bart who had gotten up walks not an once of speed the calmest any of them have ever seen, over to him a soft smile directed at apperently Luci although Tim agrees wth Cassie it's a weird name and not what he was planning.

"Our son, and Luci is a nickname, and if I'm right Tim just spent the last twenty four-ish hours creating him."

Before he can comprehend half of what Bart just said. Luci?

Is being cradled head perfectly surported by the speedster along with soft cooing from said speedster looking so natural as if fatherhood was created just for him.

Finally he finds his voice.

"Daughter, but Bart is right she's ours."

A giggle interrupts the cooing before a smirk paints Bart's face.

"No it's definitely son but it will be a good few years before he's able to voice that specific issue, not that it's much of an issue with all the money your daddy has isn't that right little lightening?"

And once again Bart is back to being absurdly attractive holding their child that Tim is getting a feeling he had prior knowledge of. Who also is trans? Maybe? which is completely fine of course but back to the whole Bart clearly knows something.

"Imp, ok I get the whole Rob made a baby with our DNA thing. No offense but I'm not exactly surprised Sunshine, your crazy we love that about you, but Bart why are you talking like you already know them."

Kon asks sounding very tired which Tim is a little offended by, he's not crazy.

Also how dare he be so accepting of Tim's cloned child as if this is Tuesday and Tim does this everyday he definitely does not, he's not Batman well ok maybe a little bit like him but still.

Wow Tim is way to sleep deprived if this is his inner monologue right now.

"Because I do. Lilith right? That's the name you had in mind apperently he doesn't actually mind you going with that for now since in his own words it inspires his much scarier name. God I love that kid."

Tim blanks.

He swallows throat suddenly really dry.

"Bart did you go to the future?"

He is trying to process but is now very scared is a time line fractured? Could his child not exist, and nevermind the whole Bart apperently already has insider info on the child his child that Tim just made ten fucking minutes ago.

"Oh no nothing like that."

He laughes out as if Bart hasn't been sitting on life changing information for who knows how long. Which is also extremely hypocritical of him considering secret child and timeline shenanigans that he was just panicking over.

"Our wonderful, gremlin, of a child ran into me actually some evil rouge with Time Travel powers which was a whole thing."

He pauses clearly rejoicing in some memory of their child that again Tim you know his mother wasn't privy to. Even though Tim is a man which would make him Dad but he created the baby so he should have been the first to have fond memories.

"I went to interrupt said fight not knowing and your child, yah Robie he was hundred percent your child, threw a DNA test in my face told me to get out of his way and absolutely demolished the dude before who I believe and I am just speculating here, was your brother's kid grabbed the dude and threw him into some weird portal before vanishing."

Tim is gonna lose his fucking mind his baby who he just created.

Grows up to be a superhero which alright not surprising, but also apperently one of his siblings has a child also not surprising. But they apperently travel through time together and cause chaos how fucking lovely he is starting to feel really guilty about everything with Bruce.

Oh my god he has to tell Bruce. But first.

"Which sibling?"

He doesn't actually know what's he's hoping for maybe Dick's kid yah, a sunshine child, chaotic but nice yah that sounds like a good influence. On once again his twenty minute old son? Daughter something? Whatever baby.

"Well based on the guns, and arrows that were floating around. You also can't forget the helmet I would say that was Arsenal and Red Hood's very own precious bundle but Luci wouldn't give me a straight answer but what would you expect when we raised him."

Tim's tired very tired he doesn't even stop himself from face planting onto the floor. Everything will make more sense after a nap a very long nap.

Oh my god Jason procreated is his last thought before he falls into a nightmare filled sleep.

#timkonbartcassie have a kid #timkon #clone baby #tim drake #batfamily #jason todd #everyone has kids #Tim cloned people #also Bart is super intelligent he doesn't get enough credit #bart allen #connor kent #cassie sandsmark #it's a boy #or it's a girl Tim doesn't know also he's super tired and this is from his perspective so it doesn't make a lot of sense #this is an idea I had it's kind messy #I'm not a huge Jason Roy fan but I think their kid would be badass #jayroy #this is a part one I got plans #let me know what everyone thinks #bruce wayne #Bruce became a grandfather #he just doesn't know it yet #protective Tim drake #Bart Allen is a good dad argue with the wall #Tim drake is a good dad argue with the wall #everyone's a good parent #I will not admit how long I have been working on this it's been way to long #batfam #bamf batfamily #also I have been seeing so many TimKon baby posts which motivated me to finish this

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starlightkun · 3 days

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➠ word count: 13.5k ➠ warnings: scenes of a child crying if you don’t want to read that (nightmares and stuff), also people are called mommy/daddy in this so if you can’t be normal abt that please skip this one ➠ genre: fluff, angst? but like around them in terms of life not within their relationship, established relationship, parents sungchan/reader, former hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), part of the buzzer beater series (after freezing the puck, or if you’ve only read buzzer beater & 27jsc, this should still make sense!) ➠ extra info: the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines, experiences as a chronically ill person, and thoughts about being chronically ill are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines/chronic illnesses, but i am sending all my love to any readers out there living with a chronic illness, and here’s a reminder to go take your meds! ➠ author’s note: i can’t believe we’re finally done omg. i miss them so much already 🤧 thank you so much to everybody who has followed along with this series! i wasn’t expecting this to be a whole series, nor for so many people to like this fic that i started when i was feeling super frustrated with my migraines. it was definitely something that was super personal and specific to me that i was blown away by how many of y’all liked it and told me you related. so thank you, again!! ➠ series masterlist

“Really? You’re reading Breton lais to our child?” Sungchan’s teasing whisper was barely audible. “He’s going to start school saying stuff like nary and furthermore.”

“Says the man who knew I was reading a Breton lai,” you shot back just as quietly.

“Binnie, are you ready to go see Daddy?” You asked your son excitedly as you unbuckled his seatbelt, helping him out of the backseat and onto the parking lot pavement.

“Yeah!” He yelled out, the small sound echoing impressively in the open area. The five-year-old ran ecstatic circles around you as you walked calmly towards the university’s ice rink. “Mommy, am I skating with Daddy today?”

“I don’t know, you’ll have to ask him nicely after he’s done working,” you informed Woobin as he skidded to a half-skip half-walk next to you, grabbing your gloved hand with his.

Walking into the hockey rink that you knew like the back of your own hand at this point, you saw the Raptors still practicing, and guided your son into the bleachers so you two could watch. Woobin climbed up on the seat next to you, standing on it so he could actually see, and you offered a hand for him to keep himself balanced. He used it until he felt stable, then pushed it away insistently. A few of the players waved at you two, and you both waved back, your son as enthusiastic as ever when he got noticed, waving practically with his entire little body.

Sungchan was on the ice, directing two players with his back to you, and as he skated backward away from them for them to line up and continue practicing, he happened to glance over his shoulder and in your direction. You raised a casual hand in greeting, and he waved back. Woobin sent him a zealous, flying kiss with his whole arm, and Sungchan visibly laughed and immediately went to do it back. After the two players that he’d been instructing had presumably corrected the issue, your husband gave them both pats on the shoulder before skating over your way.

Woobin screamed out a “Hi Daddy!” so loud you were sure the entire campus could hear him, and every head on the ice turned around to look. You burst into laughter, rubbing his back fondly at his enthusiasm, and Sungchan covered his face as he chortled as well.

A few minutes later and Coach called practice, the players slowly starting to filter off the ice and into the locker room. You guided Woobin down through the bleachers towards the gate, where Sungchan was waiting for the two of you.

Your husband had already opened the gate to the ice, standing on the flooring just off it, where you and your son were walking. Woobin flung himself at his legs at full-speed, and Sungchan easily picked him up, beaming as he kissed his forehead.

“Hey, buddy!” Sungchan grinned, readjusting your son’s beanie.

“Hi, Daddy!” He chirped back, bouncing in his arms.

“Hi, hon,” he kissed your cheek, and you gave his a quick peck in greeting as well.

“Hey, Channie.” You slipped your arm around his back in a one-armed hug. “Little dude wants to ask you something.”

“Oh really?” Sungchan focused his inquisitive eyebrow raise at your son.

“Can I skate with you? Please? Pretty please? Pretty pretty please?” Woobin immediately put on his best pout and puppy dog eyes, a display that always made you wonder how he wasn’t genetically Sungchan’s. The two of you had agreed some time ago that with your chronic migraines having a genetic component, you didn’t want to risk passing it down, and had looked into fostering initially. Woobin was your first placement at just a few days old, and he never left, the adoption going through right before his second birthday.

“Mr. Coach ended practice early, so we do have a few minutes,” your husband qualified his acquiescence.

“Yay!”

“You joining us, hon?”

“Sure.”

After fetching yours and your son’s skates from his office, Sungchan helped Woobin put his on, then double checked yours as always. Having married a former collegiate hockey player turned collegiate hockey coach, you’d gotten proficient enough at lacing up your own skates, but he wanted be sure every time that you weren’t going to twist your ankle, or have them come untied, or something else unfortunate.

Coach was still on the ice with the current goalie and center on one end, so you and your family kept to the other side. Woobin squealed and yipped with delight as Sungchan half-carried and half-pulled him around on the ice, you trailing behind with a fond smile on your lips as you watched on.

“Mr. Coach!” Woobin suddenly called to the other end of the rink.

“Oh, Binnie, Mr. Coach is working right now,” Sungchan tried to divert him. “We should leave him alone for now, buddy.”

“What was that, champ?” Coach’s gruff voice responded, the older man starting in your direction.

Woobin was absolutely thrilled to have his attention now, trying to pull Sungchan that way. “Mr. Coach! Mr. Coach!”

“I’m right here, kiddo,” he smoothly stopped right in front of your son. “I’m old but I’m not deaf yet. What do you want to tell me?”

“Mommy signed me up for my own hockey team today!” Woobin told him proudly. “Are you gonna be my coach too?”

“I don’t coach every hockey team in the world, you know.”

Woobin looked down at his skates dejectedly, as if he hadn’t considered this possibility before now.

“But… I did let your dad talk me into being his assistant coach for a certain little league team this season. Was that yours?” Coach asked teasingly, making the boy let out a loud gasp of realization.

“Was it, Daddy? Was it?” He looked up at your husband with wide eyes.

“Maybe…” Sungchan replied with a sly grin.

Woobin rounded on you, buzzing with excitement. “Did you hear that, Mommy? Mr. Coach is gonna be my coach!”

“I heard, buddy. Just like he was your Daddy’s coach,” you chuckled. Looking up at the older man, you added, “How does that make you feel, Coach? Teaching multiple generations?”

“Like my back is going to give out any day now,” he groaned and grabbed his lumbar. “Don’t remind me, Y/N, please.”

You laughed, making a motion of zipping up your lips and throwing away the key.

“Anyway, let me finish up with these two,” he gestured to the two Raptors still milling about on the other end of the ice. “Are you locking up, Jung?”

“Not today, got some errands to run before buddy’s naptime,” Sungchan explained.

“I’m five, I don’t need a nap anymore!” Woobin insisted.

“Hey, champ, look at me,” Coach requested, and waited until he had his attention before continuing. “How old do you think I am?”

“I don’t know, like a hundred?”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, grabbing Sungchan’s arm for support as he at least had the decency to cover his mouth to hide his chuckles.

Coach nodded, not breaking eye contact with your son. “Exactly. I’m like a hundred, and I still take naps.”

“Really?”

“Really. You need them to make sure your brain—” he poked the boy’s forehead “—and your body—” he poked his belly, making him giggle “—are at their best. Especially a growing kid like you.”

“So why do you need them? If you’re not a kid anymore?”

“I’m saying you need them extra because you’re a kid. Grown-ups need them sometimes too.”

He pouted thoughtfully for a moment, then pointed up at you. “Mommy takes naps when she has a migraine. That’s when her head hurts really, really bad.”

“There you go. Told you they weren’t just for kids.” Coach stood up straight, cracking his back with a satisfied groan. “I’ll see you all later, okay?”

“Bye, Mr. Coach!” Woobin waved enthusiastically.

“See you Monday, Coach,” Sungchan nodded to him.

You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him, and he shot you a wink over his shoulder before skating back over to his players, his voice immediately souring as he started barking out orders again.

With the excitement of his upcoming little league team on his mind, your son insisted on having Sungchan show him moves and maneuvers today. You were of course the default practice dummy both for Sungchan to demonstrate, and your son to practice. Which only worked so well since none of you had sticks or a puck or gear of any kind except for your skates, but Woobin was having fun, so you were happy.

Coach eventually finished with the guys at the other end, and as you saw him start off the ice first, you called out to him, “Done for the day, Coach?”

He turned back to you. “I wish! Got some paperwork to finish up in the office! If somebody’s bleeding—call 911, not me!”

You laughed, giving him a final wave as he headed off. About to turn to your family to suggest that you leave to do your errands as well, you spotted the two Raptors players still loitering by the goal, no longer practicing, and yet still not rushing to leave.

“You boys need something?” You asked them knowingly.

“Well, if it’s alright with you, Professor…” the goalie, who had been in your Intro to Literary Theory and Criticism class last spring, began.

“We were wondering if we could see if we could skate with the MVP too?” The center finished hopefully.

“Just for a little! We heard you telling Coach you guys had errands to run before his naptime!” His friend rushed to add.

Woobin’s focus had already started waning on his impromptu lesson from his dad, and as you looked over, you could see Sungchan beginning to wind down on his instructing as he realized this. You checked the time on your phone, then looked back to the two college boys. “Sure, you can ask Binnie if he wants to skate.”

They erupted into celebratory hoots, chest-bumping before practically tossing aside their unnecessary equipment. Suddenly realizing themselves, they collected themselves and turned to you, bowing their heads politely. “Thank you, Professor.”

“You’re welcome, boys,” you replied with humor in your voice, watching as they took off, seemingly racing each other to Sungchan and Woobin.

You could hear bits of their conversation from where you were leaning against the wall halfway down the rink, and watched fondly as your son’s face lit up with enthusiasm, then the Raptors players started pulling him down the ice with them, his delighted laughter bouncing around the rink.

Sungchan leisurely skated over and stopped in front of you. With a great flourish, he bowed and offered his hand out to you. You laughed, placing your hand atop his, and he dropped a kiss to the back of your gloved fingers. He stood up straight again, pulling you off the wall with little resistance from you, before taking both your hands and beginning to skate backwards in front of you, guiding you along with him. Neither of you chose to mention the fact that you knew how to skate just fine, playing along with the fun of the moment as he easily took you around the rink that you were sure he could navigate with his eyes closed at this point.

“Oh, do we have dishwasher pods on the list?” You suddenly asked as soon as the thought popped into your mind.

“We put it on there last night when we loaded the dishwasher and saw that we were almost out,” he reassured you, not even breaking stride.

“Right, thanks.” You smiled, giving his hands a squeeze.

“I also put dish soap on there this morning, by the way.”

“I love you.”

He slowed the two of you down on the far side of the rink, letting go of one of your hands to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you closer. “I love you too, baby.”

After doing a few things out and about, the three of you headed home.

“Hey, buddy,” Sungchan called for your son’s attention, his hands occupied with groceries. “Do you want me or Mommy to help you get ready for your nap? Or are you going to try to do it yourself?”

“Mm…” He looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “Mommy!”

“Alright, help with the groceries then I’ll help you, Binnie,” you bargained, putting a bag down on the ground in his reach.

As Woobin dutifully put the bags of chips and boxes of gummies on the lower shelves of the pantry that he could reach, you and Sungchan quickly put away the rest of the groceries. When there was just cleaning and other household supplies left, your husband grabbed those and nodded towards your son.

“Go put buddy down, I’ve got this.”

“Thanks, Channie,” you pecked his cheek before turning to your child. “Lead the way!”

Woobin was able to get into his pajamas by himself, so you were really just there to tuck him in and kiss his forehead. You never bought into the “cry themselves out” mindset from the get-go, and to this day would sit with him until he fell asleep if he asked.

Except this time, he didn’t get into bed at all, standing next to the piece of furniture with you and staring at it like you were about to cliff dive instead of nap. He looked up at you, and you already saw his bottom lip quivering.

“Mommy?”

“Yeah, Binnie, I’m right here, my sweet,” you promised, kneeling down in front of him so you were eye-to-eye. “What’s wrong?”

He threw his arms around your neck, taking quick, shallow breaths as he very bravely tried to communicate with you. “I don’t wanna—I don’t wanna…”

“Okay, I won’t make you right now,” you promised, rubbing his back. “Will you tell me what’s making you upset? Is it the nap? Going to sleep? Did you have a bad dream?”

But he had already devolved into incomprehensible sobs, and you bit your lip at the twinge in your chest. “Alright, sweet, how about we go to Mommy and Daddy’s room? Hm? And I’ll read you something. If you don’t want to nap, you don’t have to today, okay? Sound good?”

You could feel him nod into your shoulder, and that was all you needed to pick him up and settle him on your hip to carry him out of his room. As you passed by Sungchan putting away new bottles of dish soap and dishwasher pods under the sink, he gave you a concerned look. You mouthed a ‘later’ to him as you took your son across your house and into your room. As you passed by your bookshelf, you quickly selected a book, then sat down at the head of your bed, Woobin on your lap. Pulling your blanket up over you two, you let him get settled in and comfortable, still very much crying all the while.

Holding your book with one hand and resting the other on his back, you started reading. After a while, his sobs died down to hiccups, which petered out to just the occasional sniffle. But you could see that he was still awake, his eyes open and following your place as you read. Then, after a while longer, they started to slowly fall shut and his chin would tilt down, then he’d quickly open his eyes again and jerk his head up. Finally, he couldn’t fight the heaviness of his lids, and he fell asleep. You put your bookmark in where you were just before his eyes closed, but kept reading past that, just in case. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the door handle slowly turn, and your bedroom door inch open before Sungchan peered in.

Your husband pointed to the boy in your lap, then made a gesture of pretending to sleep on a pillow, lifting his eyebrows questioningly after. You nodded, still reading softly.

Sungchan slipped in the room, closing the door quietly behind him as well. Having come to a stopping place, you finally closed your book and set it aside on the one you already had on your nightstand.

“Really? You’re reading Breton lais to our child?” Sungchan’s teasing whisper was barely audible. “He’s going to start school saying stuff like nary and furthermore.”

“Says the man who knew I was reading a Breton lai,” you shot back just as quietly.

“Getting married to a lit professor, you pick up a few things.” He then looked down at Woobin. “What happened?”

You sighed and readjusted slightly to hold him tighter now that you had two free arms. “I don’t know. He couldn’t tell me. As soon as he had to get into bed for his nap he just… broke down.”

A deep frown cut across Sungchan’s face as he stroked your son’s hair, but he said nothing else. He left the room, and you heard him moving around throughout the house as you picked up the other book from your nightstand. Eventually, he meandered back in, sitting on his side of the bed and setting up his laptop to quietly work beside you as your son continued napping on your lap and you continued your book. In addition to doing research at the university and being the assistant coach for the hockey team, Sungchan had picked up teaching a couple of Intro to Biology for majors sections, and you could see him answering emails from his students out of the corner of your eye. You were rereading the material for the Direct Study you were leading next semester.

Eventually, Woobin slowly started stirring, grumbling, yawning, and rubbing at his eyes before burying his face back in your chest with a sigh. You stroked his back, attention still on your book. He turned over in your arms when he finally decided that he was awake, blinking his eyes open and staring off into the middle distance.

“Hey, Binnie, you awake?” Sungchan asked quietly.

He nodded slowly, stretching his arms up, and you had to duck your head out of the way to avoid getting smacked in the face by a stray hand.

“Sleep good?” Your husband kept talking to him.

He nodded again, letting out another adorable little yawn.

“Of course you did,” Sungchan chuckled, gently pinching the tip of his nose. “You got the best seat in the house right there, bud.”

Woobin made grabby hands at Sungchan, and he moved his laptop to the side to transfer him from your lap to his, pressing a kiss to his forehead once he was settled in against his chest.

“Uncle Chenle is going to be over soon,” you reminded your son of your plans for the night. “Are you excited?”

He perked up at this. “Yeah! He said he was gonna bring me back a souvenir!”

“He does love to spoil you,” Sungchan shook his head, ruffling the boy’s hair.

As Woobin busied himself with his toys in his room, the horrors of naptime all but forgotten, you and Sungchan were having a fervent, whispered conversation in your bedroom.

“Should we even go tonight?” You asked, pulling your outfit on.

“I know, I’m worried about bedtime…” Sungchan sighed, nevertheless assisting you with your zipper.

“Chenle’s really good with him, and you know how much he dotes on Woobin.” You paused in front of the mirror, smoothing out the wrinkles. You weren’t sure if you were trying to convince yourself or your husband at this point.

“I know, I don’t doubt how much he loves our kid, or how much buddy loves him,” he replied, fidgeting with his tie behind you. “I just… would hate to not be there.”

“Me too,” you replied quietly, turning around to fix his tie yourself. “I can practically feel the stress migraine coming on thinking about it.”

“Okay, well don’t do that, baby,” Sungchan insisted, resting his hands on your waist to pull you closer. “I mean, that didn’t happen at bedtime yesterday, did it?”

“No, it didn’t,” you agreed. “Or naptime yesterday…”

“Who’s to say it’ll happen at bedtime today?” He suggested. “Might’ve been a one-time thing. Or only for naps.”

“Right.” You breathed out, having finished with his tie, and now looked up at him questioningly. “So we’re going?”

“Seems like it.”

“We should still give Chenle a heads-up.”

“Of course.”

Chenle pulled up in his sleek luxury car soon after, and you made sure to greet him at the door while Sungchan helped Woobin put his toys up.

“Whew! Look at you!” Chenle whistled as he pulled back from hugging you, grabbing your hand and twirling you around. “MILF! MILF! MILF!”

You laughed, shaking him off. “Quiet! You’re a menace, I swear. You better be filtering around my child.”

“Of course, of course.” He held his hands up in surrender, and you saw that one held a gift bag. A rather large gift bag.

“And what did you bring him this time? Milan, was it?”

“A model of the Arco della Pace for us to build together, of course.”

“Oh, of course.” You shook your head fondly, but couldn’t stop the worry from overtaking your mood. “Chenle, I do have to tell you something.”

Your friend immediately matched your change in mood, furrowing his brow with concern. “Everything okay, Y/N?”

“When I was trying to put Binnie down for his nap today, he couldn’t get into his bed. He couldn’t tell me what was wrong, he just started crying and saying he didn’t want to. He had to take his nap in our room with the two of us. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I wanted to give you a heads up, in case it happens again at bedtime, since I know you always say he’s really good for you. If it does, just call and we’ll come right back, okay? Don’t feel bad at all, it’s not your fault.”

Chenle listened carefully and nodded thoughtfully as you explained the situation to him. “Okay, yeah. Are you two sure you even want to go? We can all have a really fun hangout with Uncle Chenle and then I can peace before bedtime if that’s what needs to happen tonight.”

You gnawed on your bottom lip, but ultimately shook your head. “We told Ten we were going to be there. I’d like to at least try to see him accept the award.”

“Of course.” Chenle patted his chest. “I won’t take it personally if he starts crying for Mommy at bedtime tonight.”

“When you put it like that I really don’t want to go.”

“Go,” he insisted. “We’ll be fine.”

“Uncle Chenle!” A delighted squeal came as your son ran in, wrapping himself around Chenle’s legs like a koala.

“Hey, Binnie!” Your friend beamed down at him, squeezing his cheeks in one hand. “How are you?”

“I’m good!” His words were a little garbled as Chenle smushed his face.

“Hey, Chenle,” Sungchan greeted him as well, patting him on the shoulder as he walked by to get to your side.

“Hey, Sungchan!”

“Are you ready to go, hon?” Your husband asked you as the other two started an enthusiastic guessing game of what Chenle brought Woobin back as a souvenir from Milan.

“Yeah.” You nodded. Raising your voice slightly to address the others, you announced, “Alright, guys, we’re heading out. Binnie, Daddy and I will be back after you’re asleep, okay?”

“Goodbye and goodnight!” He darted over as you and Sungchan knelt down to each give him a hug, and two more kisses—one for goodbye, and another for his goodnight kiss, since you wouldn’t be putting him to bed. Really, when you came home, you two always checked on him and gave him one last peck goodnight then, but he of course didn’t know that.

The award for Literary Theory Journal Editor of the Year had barely been placed in Ten’s hands when you saw Sungchan’s phone light up in his lap out of the corner of your eye. He squeezed your shoulder in a silent ‘be right back’ before standing from your table and quietly slipping out of the ballroom. You kept your eyes on Ten as he gave a short and charismatic acceptance speech, clapping when everyone else did, though you stayed keenly aware of the empty seat next to you. Your friend got his picture taken and shook lots of hands on his way back to your table, and your colleagues at your table all rose to greet him when he finally returned.

“Congrats, Ten,” you hugged him, your eyes straying over his shoulder to the door that Sungchan had left through.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he patted your back, pulling away still with a wide grin. “I saw Sungchan get up, is everything alright?”

You waved off his concerns for now. “Chenle probably set off the smoke alarm or something.”

Sungchan returned just a moment later, staving off his clearly concerned face for long enough to give Ten his congrats as well.

“You missed my hilarious acceptance speech, Sungchan,” Ten clicked his tongue in feigned disappointment.

“Damn, maybe next year.”

“Ooh, you think I’ll win next year too?”

“Why not?” Sungchan shrugged. “I don’t know how all the other editors could suddenly get better than you in a year.”

“Great point.”

The awards had continued, and everyone took their seats, though your focus was only on Sungchan and whatever that call was about. He leaned over to inform you quietly, “That was Chenle. SOS for buddy’s bedtime, sounds like the same as naptime.”

You bit your lip and nodded.

“I’ll get the car,” he murmured before giving your shoulder a fleeting touch and leaving your table.

You turned to Ten to give him a real reason behind your sudden departure. “Hey, that was Chenle, and Woobin is—”

“It’s all good,” your friend cut you off with a smile, patting your arm. “Go be good parents, you’ve already been good friends. Promise.”

“Thanks.” You could feel the relieved smile on your face. “Congrats again, Ten.”

After giving your hushed goodbyes to the rest of your colleagues, you hurried out of the ballroom. Sungchan didn’t complain about the anxious death grip you had on his hand the entire ride home, simply smoothing his thumb over your knuckles as the fingers of his other hand tapped out impatient rhythms on the steering wheel at every red light you got stuck at.

Finally, you arrived home, and you didn’t even have to go searching for Woobin and Chenle, as you were barely in your foyer and Sungchan hadn’t even had the chance to finish locking the front door behind him when a small form came running in, barreling into your legs. Chenle was a few steps behind your son, entering right after him. Woobin was blubbering and sobbing against you, beyond the point of any sort of intelligible speech. You sighed forlornly and rested a hand on his head, feeling your heart break as you looked down at him, not knowing how to help him.

Sungchan immediately took your purse from your other hand, rubbing your back briefly as he passed by. As he and Chenle went to talk in the living room, you hooked your hands under your son’s arms and heaved him up onto your hip, carrying him into your room with you. You maneuvered to support him with one arm so you could take off your shoes with the other hand, tossing them in the vague direction of your closet door. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you readjusted him so that he was sitting in your lap, crying into your neck, and you gently stroked the back of his head as he shook in your arms.

“I’m right here, Binnie. I’ve got you. Mommy’s right here,” you told him softly, a hard lump growing in your throat. “You’re okay, my sweet. You’re okay. I promise, I’ve got you.”

Eventually, you heard Chenle and Sungchan’s hushed voices pass by, then the front door open and close. A couple minutes later, there was a soft knocking at your bedroom door.

“Hey, that’s Daddy,” you informed Woobin. “Is it okay if he comes in and stays with us too?”

Woobin nodded from where his face was still hidden in your neck. His sobs hadn’t stopped, and at this rate, you were worried he was going to make himself throw up with how much he was crying and hiccupping.

“Come in,” you called out.

Sungchan had already discarded his suit jacket and tie elsewhere, you realized as he slipped into the room. A pained look quickly took over his features as his eyes immediately found the two of you. He set the no-spill cup he’d brought in with him—Woobin’s favorite cartoon characters printed all around the outside—down on your nightstand as he sat down next to you.

“Hey, buddy, it’s me,” Sungchan said quietly. “I brought some water; I thought your throat might be hurting a little.”

You son let out a couple sniffles, as if contemplating this for the first time.

Your husband continued, “Do you think you can sit with me and drink some water while Mommy changes into her jammies?”

“I won’t leave the room, sweet,” you assured him. “I’ll be right here with you and Daddy.”

In lieu of a verbal response, he nodded again and loosened the vice-like grip he’d had around your neck, letting you shift him over into his dad’s arms. Before you could go run and do the fastest change of your life, Sungchan grabbed your hand, pulling you around to look at him. As you gazed down at him, with Woobin bawling inconsolably in his lap, the two of you exchanged a brief, unspoken moment of uncertainty, unknowing, of knowing that neither of you knew what to do for your son. Your hand was shaking—or maybe that was his—as you clutched each other tightly for just a second.

Then you had to let go of him to rush to change, and Sungchan tried to gently coax Woobin into taking a sip of water. You could hear him coaching your son through taking just one little sip at a time and not chugging, or he’d make himself sick. You, meanwhile, were throwing clothes into the general vicinity of where they needed to go as you pulled on new ones. The nice material now had snot and spit all over them, you were sure they’d need to be dry-cleaned anyway, so you didn’t care about the wrinkles they’d garner from being crumpled up on the floor for the night. You then rushed through taking out your hair and brushing your teeth, keeping the en suite bathroom door open all the while.

Back over with your husband and son, you saw that the task of sipping water had forced his crying to slow down considerably, and you took a deep breath to not pass on your stress back to your child. The last thing you needed to do was get him going again just because you were so worried. He also had his favorite stuffed animal tucked under his other arm, the only one that had survived from his infancy to now, a deer plushie. You didn’t even remember seeing Sungchan bring that in with him, your brain was so scrambled.

“Here, Binnie, Mommy’s back. I feel left out, I’m not the only one not in my jammies,” Sungchan joked, which didn’t even earn a giggle from your child as it normally would’ve. “You want to go back to Mommy and I’ll get changed?”

Woobin nodded, and Sungchan let you get into a more comfortable position up by the headboard before depositing your son into your arms. You could at least see some of his face from the new angle of him sitting sideways in your lap, and it was of course red, puffy, and covered in tears. Sungchan must have already cleaned up some of his snot, as you spotted several discarded tissues on the nightstand.

“Did Puck come to make sure you were okay, too?” You asked quietly, gently tapping one of the plushie’s soft antlers. Puck the Buck, as he had been so brilliantly named some time ago.

Another nod and a sniffle.

“That was nice of him.” You stroked the deer’s head. “Thank you, Puck.”

Woobin patted the deer’s head, too, and as you watched more tears fall down his cheeks, you pressed a long kiss to his hair, silently apologizing for not knowing how to fix it all right now. Sungchan came back from the bathroom just a moment later, scooting onto the bed from the other side.

“Okay, Binnie. What do you think? Do you want to watch an episode of your show?” He suggested. “Or Mommy can finish reading you Bisclavret? Or…”

As he tried to think of other options, you gave him a bewildered look over your son’s head at the fact that he apparently knew which Breton lai you were reading earlier. That was something to address later, though.

Woobin shook his head, though.

“No?” Sungchan said questioningly. “No to what? Do you want Mommy to read?”

Head shake.

“Do you want to watch an episode of your show?”

Head nod.

And so you, Woobin, Puck, and Sungchan all settled in under your covers to watch an episode of his favorite cartoon. Except you and Sungchan didn’t have a TV in your bedroom, and both of your laptops were charging across the house in your home office, so you all had to scoot in close to be able to see it on the much smaller screen of Sungchan’s phone. Puck took up a considerable amount of space when crowding around a phone to watch something, and from your vantage point mostly behind your son and the plushie, you couldn’t see a thing past the deer head and antlers, but you didn’t really care about catching up on the children’s cartoon. You were much more preoccupied with listening for Woobin’s sniffles to cease, and watching as his breathing evened out. He was still awake after one episode, but quiet, calm, and Sungchan went ahead and played the next one.

You gently rubbed his back, smiling to yourself when you heard his first yawn of the night. When his second came before the five-minute mark, you knew he wouldn’t last the whole episode. And sure enough, he was out before the halfway point. Sungchan turned his phone off and set it aside. The two of you were curled up on either side of your son, with Sungchan facing him and you.

Your husband reached a hand up, and you thought he was going to stroke Woobin’s hair, but he kept going and gently wiped a thumb under your eye instead, at the fresh tears that had just brimmed there. You placed your hand over his, turning your head just enough to leave a kiss on his palm.

You woke up early in the morning with a stress migraine. When you shuffled into the kitchen to get a glass of water, the stove clock read 3:03. You quickly chugged your first glass of water, then refilled it to take back with you. Walking through to your bathroom, you retrieved your bottle of rescue medication from your drawer. This one was a muscle relaxer, so you didn’t see any point in keeping it in your purse, as you weren’t able to drive after taking it, which you typically needed to do when you were out and about. You knocked back a tablet before screwing the lid back on and putting it away again. After taking a few more sips of your water, you slipped back under the covers with your family.

Your head felt like it was being squeezed in a vice, but you still blearily opened one eye to look at your son, watching as his chest rose and fell peacefully. He was on his back now, and you couldn’t help but lay a hand on his front, feeling his even breaths under your palm. Sungchan’s foot tapped yours under the blanket briefly as he readjusted in his sleep, and you smiled to yourself. And then it happened again, and you peered over to the other pillow suspiciously.

In the low light, you could see Sungchan looking right at you. He pointed to his own head, then raised his eyebrows.

You lifted your hand in a ‘meh’ gesture, then held up 5 fingers to rate it out of 10, before setting your hand back down on Woobin’s front. Sungchan found your arm under the covers, gently squeezing your forearm. You tapped his foot in return, a silent exchange, before closing your eyes and settling back in to sleep.

Two hushed voices woke you up for the second time that morning. Well, one hushed voice, and one who hadn’t quite mastered whispering yet.

“What do you think Mommy—”

“Quiet, buddy, remember?” Sungchan’s words were barely discernible from behind the closed bathroom door. “Your mom’s got a migraine, and—”

“—and Mommy needs to sleep when she’s got a migraine,” Woobin finished dutifully, his voice a notch quieter than before. “So her head feels better.”

“That’s right, bud. Now come on, breakfast.”

“That’s what I—” Your son stopped himself as his voice raised with his excitement. He continued, in his best half-whisper, “Sorry, Daddy. I know: We gotta whisper. Quiet. I was asking what Mommy wants for breakfast?”

The two of them were quiet, and you heard the bathroom door open, then one pair of feet quietly tread across your room to open the bedroom, then shut it softly. You could hear their voices slowly fade as they walked further away.

“I don’t know. Why are you asking?”

“Because you always bring me breakfast in bed when I’m sick!” Woobin’s voice was back to it’s normal volume as he tried to emphatically get his point across to his dad. Sungchan must have gestured for him to quiet down again, as he dropped down to a part-whisper once more, “It’s Mommy’s turn.”

“You’re right. Let’s see what we can make…”

When you first got Woobin, you only got a migraine a couple times a year, a significant drop from when you were first diagnosed. The frequency fluctuated over the years and seasons, though, and there was a short period of time after becoming new parents, that you had been getting them weekly. You knew that put a strain on Sungchan, since a spouse with noise-sensitive migraines and a crying baby didn’t exactly mix. You of course would go through any migraine pain to take care of your son, but your husband couldn’t stand seeing you do it if it could be avoided. After some medication changes, you were fairly consistent with one every other month now. When Woobin was a toddler, and couldn’t quite grasp the concept of needing to play quietly when he wasn’t napping, Sungchan would take him on “field trips” while you rested. You’d decided to give him a simple explanation of a migraine to him when he was a little older, so he could easier differentiate between the migraines that you got, and when he might have a headache from a cold, or because his body was telling him he needed to drink some more water. He was also now your designated band-aid picker for your monthly injection, and had a better grasp on when, why, and how to keep quiet when you needed it.

Your head unfortunately still hurt, though your heart was warmed by your kind-hearted kid. There were lots of times where you and Sungchan felt like you had no clue what you were doing—like your current predicament with bedtime—but you figured you were doing a pretty alright job overall.

You contemplated getting up to take another dose. The only plans you had for today were a family trip to the park and some chores at home. Your husband would probably insist on you skipping the park for today, but if the second dose worked, you could probably get some things done around the house at least. Unfortunately, your days of laying in bed all day when you had a low-level migraine were long gone. If you could open your eyes, you usually had something that needed to get done.

But for this morning, at least, for now, you could close your eyes for just a little longer. You rolled over, away from the window where a thin strip of light had gotten in through a gap between your blackout curtains that Sungchan must have pulled closed.

You didn’t quite go back to sleep, but you dozed somewhere in between as you fondly listened to the sounds of Sungchan and Woobin trying to make breakfast as silently as possible. The running of the sink, sizzling of something on the stove, beep of the microwave before it was hastily shut off, fridge opening and closing, Sungchan’s quiet murmured directions to Woobin, and your son’s inquisitive tone in return.

Eventually, you heard someone shuffling up to your bedroom door, sounding much too small to be your husband. The door very slowly creaked open, and he tiptoed over to your side of the bed.

“Mommy?” His whisper had gotten better over the morning, though it didn’t matter much, since he was definitely right in front of your face.

You cracked open one eye, and offered him a soft smile. “Morning, buddy.”

“Are you awake?”

“Yeah, Binnie, I’m awake,” you chuckled, propping yourself up on one elbow and rubbing your eyes.

“Daddy and I made you breakfast, hold on!” And he darted back out of the room.

You looked at the empty doorway fondly, slowly pushing yourself up into a sitting position at the head of the bed. Sungchan and Woobin reappeared a moment later with a tray filled with various breakfast foods.

“Morning, beautiful,” Sungchan greeted you quietly, pecking the crown of your head as he went to set the tray down in your lap.

“Mm, morning, Channie,” you kissed his cheek before he could stand all the way back up. “This looks wonderful, thank you guys.”

In one corner of the tray you spotted a colorful assortment of pills, all of your morning doses plus what looked like a couple of your acute medications from your purse that was definitely in the dining room. You grabbed your water from the nightstand to get that out of the way first.

“We’ll let you eat in peace,” Sungchan declared, patting your son on the head to start to usher him out.

“No, it’s okay,” you stopped them. “It’s not so bad. I want you two to eat with me.”

Woobin’s face lit up, and he wasted no time in clambering up on the bed with you. You held the tray steady as he wedged himself in next to you.

“Alright, I’ll go get mine and buddy’s plates.”

Woobin was still earnestly pointing out each piece of food on your tray to you, explaining exactly how he had helped Sungchan prepare all of it when your husband returned. Sungchan sat down in front of you, and as he handed your son his plate, you noticed that there was nothing on it that could make too much of a mess if it happened to capsize.

“Sounds like you were a big help,” you praised your son, stroking the back of his head.

“He was,” Sungchan agreed. “Breakfast in bed was his idea.”

“Really?” You feigned surprise as Woobin nodded proudly. They didn’t need to know that you’d heard their entire bathroom conversation. “Thank you, sweet, it was a very good idea.”

After a very quiet breakfast, Sungchan took the plates into the kitchen, and you started making your mental list of tasks for the day. No vacuum—you weren’t a masochist—but there was laundry to do, and if Sungchan started the dishwasher before he left, it would be done and ready to put away before they got back from the park.

Just as you had put your feet over the edge of the bed to get up, with the bathroom as your destination, you were caught off-guard by Woobin trudging into your room with an armful of toys. He dropped them onto your mattress before hauling himself up after them.

“Hey…” You greeted him with an air of question. “What are you doing, Binnie?”

Sungchan must have spotted him on his way over, as he poked his head in right then, already laser-focused on your son. “What’s all this, bud?”

“We can’t go to the park,” he said matter-of-factly, beginning to sort out the toys that had gotten all mixed up in being carried over and dumped into a pile. “I’ll be quiet, promise!”

“I didn’t say we weren’t going at all,” Sungchan clarified. “I just said Mommy needed to stay home this time, because she’s not feeling well. You and I are still going. Minha and her dad are going to be there too.”

“I don’t want to go. I don’t like the park,” he declared, a stern pout creasing his face.

“What? You don’t like the park?” You asked.

“No,” he mumbled. “I hate it.”

You exchanged bewildered looks with Sungchan at this sudden development. Deciding to try again, you said calmly, “Binnie, I’ll go with you next time, okay? I promise. You have lots of fun at the park.”

“No. I don’t want to go.”

“Okay, no park,” Sungchan acquiesced. “But it’s such a nice day out, I think a walk sounds good. What do you think?”

“No.” He crossed his arms.

“Ah, you know, my head feels good enough for a walk,” you said brightly. “I think I’d like to go on a walk. Are you sure you don’t want to go, buddy?”

“Well… okay.”

“Alright,” you beamed at him, patting his cheek as he finally looked up at you. “Mommy’s got to shower then I’ll be ready to go.”

“How about you get out of your jammies too, Woobin?” Sungchan suggested.

“Go ahead, sweet,” you sent him off with one more pat.

Your son wordlessly got off the bed and left your room. As soon as he was gone, you look at Sungchan, utterly at a loss.

“What was that?” He whispered, following you into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you two.

“I don’t know,” you whispered back, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“He loves the park! I mean, he loves going to the grocery store! He’s one of the most go-with-the-flow kids I’ve ever met!”

“He was obviously lying about hating the park. But why? His best friend’s going to be there, he’s been talking about it since we planned it at pickup on Friday.”

“You think it’s related to what’s been going with bedtime and naptime?” Sungchan paced in front of you. “I mean, what if it’s like separation anxiety? Or something?”

“But he loves you.”

“I know, I know.”

“He even went through that phase when he was a year old where he wouldn’t let me put him to sleep, it had to be you every time.”

“I know, I know.” He held his hands up. “I’m just saying… we might have hit a new phase.”

“But I could at least take him to the park without you. And he went to daycare. Now…”

“Hey, tomorrow, I’ll drop him off at school,” Sungchan said. “You know, so it’ll be gradual. The two of us at home, then just me, then he’s at school.”

“Channie, he wouldn’t let you take him to the park today.”

“I just think that if your choice is between leaving him crying at VPK or not, you’re going to be getting a new little TA in your classes tomorrow.”

You chewed on your bottom lip before sighing and nodding. “You’re right, you’re right. Okay, we’ll try your way tomorrow.”

“We’ll figure this out, hon,” he reassured you, wrapping his arms around your waist and hooking his chin over your shoulder. “But not right now in our bathroom while you’ve got a migraine.”

You hugged him back, burying your face in his neck and taking a deep breath. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s just worry about today right now.”

After your shower, you got dressed in peace and meandered out of your room to find Sungchan and Woobin by the front door. Woobin hadn’t quite mastered shoelaces, so your husband was helping him out. You slipped your own shoes on, and grabbed a pair of sunglasses on the table by the front door.

“Alright, ready?” Sungchan asked, having finished with your son’s shoes.

“Ready!” Binnie chirped.

You offered a thumbs-up, silently reaching to unlock your front door. Woobin went out first, eagerly bounding down the steps of your front porch. You followed after him onto the sidewalk as you listened to Sungchan lock up behind you, then catch up to the two of you with just a few large strides. The sun outside was painfully bright, even with your sunglasses on, and as you held up one hand to cast a shadow over your eyes, you reached your other out to grab Sungchan’s hand. He held yours firmly, even as you squinted and winced against the light, nearly missing a step when you walked in a brighter patch between shadows of trees, keeping you upright and on the paved path.

Woobin was just a couple steps in front of you, seemingly having a great time. He was talking to himself, interspersed with some singing, and of course pointing out anything he found remotely interesting to the both of you.

“Snail!” He yelled out enthusiastically, pointing to said small creature on the ground.

“Cool, buddy,” Sungchan responded encouragingly.

“Worm!”

“I see. Careful, we don’t want to step on him. He’s using the sidewalk too.”

That made Woobin giggle, giving the worm a wide berth as he stepped around it. You stepped over it.

The boy suddenly gasped, and stopped in his tracks as he pointed to a flower in one of your neighbors’ gardens. “Butterfly! Mommy, do you see it?”

You squinted in the direction he was pointing, finally seeing which one he was indicating. A dark butterfly on a bright yellow flower. “Yeah, Binnie, I see it. That’s a swallowtail butterfly.”

“Swallowtail butterfly,” he repeated, slowly to make sure he was pronouncing it right.

“That’s right.” You patted his head with your free hand.

“What other kinds of butterflies are there?” He asked as you continued your walk.

“Oh, lots,” you mused. “Your dad might know a butterfly expert, you know.”

He looked up at Sungchan with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Yeah, Dr. Hwang, one of my co-workers, she’s an entomologist.”

Your son furrowed his brows in concentration. “Entee— enah— innamolologiss.”

“Come on, let’s sound it out, bud: En,” Sungchan talked him through it. Despite his earlier teasing of you reading Breton lai to your son, your husband was just as much to blame for Woobin’s inflated vocabulary, always taking the time to teach him lengthy scientific terms for things.

“En.”

“Tah.”

“Mol.”

“Oh.”

“Gist.”

“Entah.”

“Molo.”

“Gist.”

“Entomologist.”

“Enamolgist.”

“Yeah!” Your husband beamed, holding up his hand for a high five.

“What’s an enamolgist?” Woobin asked.

“A scientist that studies bugs. Like butterflies.”

“Butterflies aren’t bugs!” He insisted.

“They are.”

“But how can they be bugs? They’re butterflies!”

Sungchan laughed. “When you meet Dr. Hwang, you can ask her and she’ll explain it. She can also tell you all about all sorts of butterflies. Okay?”

“Your dad studies fish, remember?” You added. “Way different than bugs and butterflies.”

“And you study books!” Woobin said. “And stories! And reading! And writing!”

“That’s right.” You chuckled fondly. “Way, way different than bugs or butterflies or fish.”

By the time you got back to your house, you could barely open one eye enough to navigate the steps and get through the front door. It felt like you were being stabbed in your left eye, the pain shooting back through the entire left side of your head, and you patted Sungchan’s arm before wordlessly heading off towards your room. You beelined for your bathroom, knocking back another dose of the rescue medication you had in there.

As you clutched your eye with one hand and gripped the bathroom counter tightly with the other, the door was pushed ajar. You quickly went to drop your hand and throw on a smile, then saw it was Sungchan, who put another tablet into your hand, your second rescue medication in the dining room.

“Thanks, baby,” you mumbled, taking that one as well.

He sighed, but said nothing else as he rested a hand on your back. You covered both of your eyes as you turned into his chest, feeling when your fingers quickly turned moist. You took deep, shaking, quiet breaths. One of Sungchan’s hands cradled the back of your head while the other slowly rubbed up and down your back.

“Eye mask?” He murmured, referring to the cooling eye mask you kept in the fridge to help with migraine pain. It could also be microwaved if you wanted it warm instead.

“What’s Binnie doing?” You sniffed.

“Picking a movie for me and him. You’re going to lay down. Do you want your eye mask?”

“Yes, please.”

And so Sungchan grabbed the mask from the fridge for you as you crawled back into bed, handing you your earplugs from your nightstand drawer first.

You tried to refuse, eyes drifting towards your bedroom door. “No, but—”

“I’ve got him, hon.” He opened the case and pushed the earplugs into your hand. “You’ve done plenty, Supermom. Okay?”

You nodded slowly, pushing the earplugs in one at a time. He helped you adjust the eye mask, then pulled the covers up over you. You felt as he stood up from the bed and gave one final pat to your arm.

You woke up to find that the medication and nap had taken the edge off the migraine, at least. There was still a dull ache in your head, and you felt like shit, but it wasn’t the worst that you’d ever felt. You pulled the room-temperature mask off your face and set it on your nightstand before rolling over, fully intending on burying your face in your pillow and going back to sleep if you could.

You weren’t expecting to see Sungchan lying next to you on top of the covers, hand tucked under his cheek. His eyes were open, watching you.

“Hi, Channie,” you said quietly, taking your earplugs out and setting those aside as well.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, voice barely above a murmur.

“I’m alright. Still hurts, but not as bad,” you replied, reaching a hand out towards him. He grasped it, gentle but steadfast. “Where’s Binnie? Down for his nap?”

“Snacktime. I called in backup, though, my dad’s here.”

“I’m—” You stopped yourself before you could apologize, biting down on your lip before mustering up a smile. “Thank you. For taking care of me and buddy today. More than you usually do.”

“I wish I could’ve done more for you, baby,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

“You were making sure our son was okay. He can’t use the microwave, I can manage my ten-thousandth migraine on my own.”

“But you shouldn’t have to.”

“It’s not your fault,” you insisted. “You’ve been Superdad and Superhusband today. So relax, okay?”

“Alright.”

“How long is your dad staying?”

“He brought ingredients to make dinner. My mom’s coming when she gets off her shift.”

You smiled fondly at your in-laws’ kindness, and lifted the blankets up. “Five more minutes?”

Sungchan joined you under the covers, immediately wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. You held him close, savoring his familiar warmth and the comforting pressure of him laying practically on top of you. You curled your fingers in his hair, resting your cheek against the crown of his head.

“Ten,” he mumbled against your skin. “Ten more minutes.”

“Hey Professor, mind if we hang out in here?” A familiar pair of heads had poked into your office, two freshmen Raptors players who definitely weren’t in any of your classes this semester.

“Is there somewhere you should be?” You asked, gesturing to the couch across from you nevertheless. It made no difference to you if two adults decided to skip their college classes, you were more-so just curious. “It’s a bit early to be getting to campus if you don’t have a class…”

“Well, we usually have Coach Jung’s class right now, but he just sent out an email cancelling,” the left wing explained, dropping into one corner as his friend splayed out across the remaining two-thirds.

“And our next class is in this building, so we thought we’d see if you were in,” the right wing finished.

“What class do you have in this building?” You tried to keep a casual tone as you checked your phone for any missed calls or text from Sungchan that would clue you into why he’s suddenly missed his class this morning.

As they proceeded to rant about the 2000-level Grammar class they had signed up for in order to fulfill their Gen Ed requirements, mistakenly thinking it would be easy since it was only a 2000-level, you sent a quick text to your husband.

[you: just checking in. did drop-off go okay?]

Woobin once again slept in yours and Sungchan’s room last night, and though he was a little confused at his dad taking him to school today since you usually dropped him off on Mondays, there was no meltdown when you gave him his goodbye kiss. So far so good, until now.

“What classes are you teaching in the fall, Professor?” The left wing asked you.

“Oh, uh, I’ve got Lit Theory, Direct Study, and I’m teaching a Special Topics section in Contemporary Short Stories. We’ll mostly be focusing on magical realism, surrealism, that sort of thing,” you started rambling, still half-focused on your dark phone screen, waiting for it to light up with Sungchan’s reply. “I know neither of you are Lang majors, but it’s my first Special Topics class and I enjoyed having both of you last semester, so if you have a free slot in the fall, I’d appreciate it if you considered enrolling.”

“Hell yeah, that sounds cool,” the right wing grinned. “Is it going to be like, a bunch of essays, though?”

“There will be a final paper, but it will be mostly Socratic discussion, and the occasional short, one-page synthesis assignment,” you clarified. “No tests, no quizzes. As long as you read and participate enthusiastically, you’ll pass.”

“We’ll be there!” The left wing promised. “We loved your intro class. You’re like, one of the coolest professors ever, that’s why we asked.”

“I’m honored, boys, thanks,” you laughed.

“Coach Jung is cool too,” said the right wing, then he exchanged a mischievous grin with his friend. “But you’re cooler.”

“Oh, I’ve known that for quite some time, I assure you.”

“How long have you two been together?” The left wing asked curiously.

You twisted your wedding ring contemplatively. “Let’s see… We’ve been married for seven years, we started dating our senior year of undergrad, so… fifteen years? Yeah, it’ll be fifteen years this fall.”

“Wow. I didn’t even think you were that old.”

“What? Fifteen?” You chuckled, eyes straying to the picture on your desk of you, Sungchan, and Woobin from the party you held to celebrate his adoption being finalized.

“I mean, like, old enough to have been in college fifteen years ago.”

“Surprise.”

“So you met in senior year—”

“No,” you shook your head. “That’s when we started dating. We met freshman year. First day of classes, actually, if I’m remembering correctly. In one of Dr. Son’s classes, so that tells you how long he’s been teaching.”

“Wow, he needs to retire,” the right wing snorted. “And I mean that with his best intentions at heart.”

“Why are you two so interested in me and Coach Jung all of a sudden?” You questioned, tilting your head and folding your hands over your lap.

“Well, we see you and Coach Jung and our MVP all the time but, you know, we don’t know a lot about you, outside your jobs,” the left wing shrugged. “You two seem cool, you know?”

You couldn’t help but laugh again. “Where are you guys from?”

As they informed you that they were both from the same small town about five hours away, you nodded in understanding. Freshmen that hadn’t seen their parents since the holidays, a break that was only made even shorter by their being on the hockey team.

“You two are more than welcome to pop into my office whenever you happen to see me in here,” you reassured them. “And talk to me about whatever you want.”

By the time the players had left to go to class, you still hadn’t heard back from Sungchan, and you had your own class to teach. It was your Direct Study, which usually met in your office anyway since it was just two students. The conversation in this one was student-led, so as they evaluated what they thought the developing themes in the book were, bouncing ideas off each other, you tried to listen and engage earnestly, even as you stayed painfully aware of the lack of response from your husband.

You never forced them to stay for the entire block of time allotted for the class if the conversation didn’t need it, so when they were about done only forty-five minutes into the hour and a half block, you gave them the next chunk of the reading to do before next week, and bid them farewell. Then immediately left your office.

The Science building was across from the Lang building, and you headed for Sungchan's office first. If he was teaching a class right now, you knew it would be an Intro class and, therefore, most likely in one of the large lecture halls on the first floor, but you weren’t going to interrupt his lecture because he hadn’t replied to your message. You just wanted to check to see if he'd made it to campus yet. His office was on the second floor, past some of the teaching laboratories.

When you tested the door handle, you found it unlocked, and pushed it open. His desk lamp was on, illuminating the pictures he had there: one from your wedding day, another of the three of you from a hockey game, decked out in blue and orange Raptors gear, and a third of just you and Woobin from when he was a baby, the exact occasion you couldn’t pin down. He wasn’t in the office, but his backpack was on his desk chair, so he had at least made it to campus.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, and you looked to see that it was Sungchan calling.

“Hey, Channie,” you answered.

“Hi, hon,” he sounded a little out of breath. “Where are you?”

“Uhm, I’m actually at your office. I got worried…” You admitted.

“Oh, okay. We went to your office but couldn’t find you. Stay put, we’ll come to you.”

“Okay—Wait, ‘we?’”

“Yeah, uh, buddy’s with me,” he sighed shortly. “We'll be there in just a sec, okay? Bye, love you.”

And he hung up.

When Sungchan’s office door opened a few minutes later, Woobin was, in fact, the first thing that came through, immediately running to wrap his arms around your legs. Sungchan stepped through the door a moment later, looking disheveled as he took your son’s small backpack off his shoulder and put it on one of the chairs across from his desk.

“Hey, Binnie,” you greeted your son brightly, despite your alarm and confusion, hugging him back tightly. The harrowed look on Sungchan’s face was enough to let you know that this was something for you two to talk about later.

“Mommy!” Woobin was practically buzzing with excitement. “Mommy, guess what!”

“What, buddy?”

“Daddy said I can meet an enamolgist today!”

“Wow! That’s awesome,” you patted his head. “Did he say when Dr. Hwang was available?”

“I was just about to call her,” Sungchan answered. “We wanted to find you first, hon.”

“I saw some cool posters in the hall, Binnie,” you let go of your son and offered him your hand. “Let’s go look at those while your dad makes his call, okay?”

“Okay!” He took your hand and let you guide him out into the hall, shutting the office door behind you.

The first one you found was a diagram of a wetland ecosystem, taller than your head, and spanned the entire wall between two offices.

“I can’t see it,” Woobin craned his neck to look at the poster. “Can you pick me up, please?”

You hoisted him up by his underarms and onto your hip. “Is that better?”

“Thank you!” He then pointed to an animal. “What’s that?”

“Here, it’s labeled. Do you see?” You showed him the black line connecting the animal to its common name and scientific name. “Can you read that first one?”

“Spotted… sal… uh… man… der?”

“Spotted salamander, good!” You confirmed.

“So this one is a…” he pointed to another animal, following the line to its name. “Green… ana… con… da. Green anaconda!”

“That’s right, Binnie.”

The two of you were still on that same poster sounding out animal names, when Sungchan poked his head out from his office just a few doors down. Woobin was in the middle of a name, so you indicated to your husband to wait a moment before listening to the boy continue to sound it out. Sungchan walked over to join the two of you as Woobin had just finished his first attempt at the bird’s name.

“That was a good guess, it does look like the words ‘her’ and ‘on,’” you said. “But the animal is pronounced heron.”

“Hair-in,” he echoed slowly.

“You got it. Can you put it together now?”

“Great blue heron.”

“Good job, buddy,” Sungchan praised him.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“Hi, buddy.”

“Did you get a hold of Dr. Hwang?” You asked.

“Yes, she’s in her office right now and has some spare time.”

“Yay!” Your son cheered, starting to wriggle out of your grip.

The three of you trekked to the third floor to get to Dr. Hwang’s office. Dr. Hwang was an older woman who welcomed you in warmly.

“Daddy says butterflies are bugs,” Woobin said very seriously. “Is that true?”

Dr. Hwang looked at Sungchan very judgmentally, before turning her attention down to your son. “Butterflies are insects, yes.”

“But how? They’re butterflies!”

“They’re just one kind of insect,” she explained patiently. “What’s your favorite fruit?”

“Mm… Grapes!”

“Are grapes fruit?”

“Well, yeah.”

“And fruit is food, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Grapes are a type of fruit, and fruits are a type of food. Does that make sense so far?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s the same thing with butterflies. Butterflies are a type of insect, and insects are a type of animal.”

He seemed to think very hard about this for a moment, then nodded satisfactorily. “How many kinds of butterflies are there?”

“There are about 180,000 different species of butterflies and moths. That we know about.”

His eyes practically bulged out of his head. “Woah…”

“Would you like to see some?”

“Can I?” He then looked back at you and Sungchan. “Please? Can I?”

“Of course, buddy,” Sungchan smiled, then looked up at his colleague. “If it’s alright with you, Dr. Hwang, my wife and I are going to step out for a moment.”

She waved you off. “Of course, go ahead.”

“Thank you,” you nodded to her gratefully. Patting your son’s head, you informed him, “Daddy and I will be right back, buddy.”

As Dr. Hwang directed Woobin’s attention to a book, you and Sungchan stepped out into the hall, shutting the door behind you quietly.

“What happened?” You asked him fervently.

Sungchan pulled you a little further down the hall, keeping his voice low when he finally spoke. “He was doing fine until we got into his classroom. Got his arms around my neck, wouldn’t let go… Kid’s strong for a five-year-old.”

“Two of your students ended up in my office after you cancelled class.”

“Yeah, I stayed for the first thirty minutes, to try to ease him into it, but then when I tried to leave again, the same thing happened except worse… Kept asking for you.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It was too much of a distraction, we had to leave. He didn’t stop crying until I told him we were going to see you.”

You nodded in understanding, not upset with Sungchan in the slightest. If you’d been in his position, you probably would’ve done the same thing, if not, gave in even sooner.

“Do you think…” You bit the inside of your cheek. “Do you think we should take him to see someone? See if it’s a phase or… something more serious? I mean, even if it is a phase, he’s clearly getting really upset about something…”

“Yeah, I think that’d be a good idea,” Sungchan agreed.

Dr. Kwon Hayoung was a younger woman, definitely no older than yourself and Sungchan if you had to guess, her posture relaxed as she sat in her mustard yellow armchair. Her entire office was colorful, filled with various toys, whimsical artworks, and plush, patterned pillows on the couch that you were currently sitting on with your husband. After lots of research, various recommendations from friends and colleagues at work, and an entire two weeks of Woobin being attached at the hip to one of the two of you, you had finally settled on taking him to Dr. Kwon. After an initial interview with all three of you, then just you and Sungchan (a task that was aided by the fact that Sungchan’s father had come along and occupied him in the meantime), she then evaluated your son, which required several breaks for him to see you. But finally, she had finished with him, and he went back to play with his grandpa while Dr. Kwon brought you and Sungchan back once again.

“There is nothing serious for us to be concerned about,” Dr. Kwon declared, her tone calm.

You and Sungchan exchanged an uncertain look. You cleared your throat, “Uhm…”

“I don’t mean to downplay the problems that your family is facing right now,” the child psychologist promised, readjusting her lavender purple frames on the bridge of her nose. “However, Woobin is developing typically for kids his age, which is good news.”

“Then why is he…?” Sungchan trailed off, his question obvious. Why is he doing all of this? So suddenly?

“You have been very open about him being adopted.”

“Yeah, we never wanted to hide it from him,” you said. “He even gets two parties every year, his birthday party, and we celebrate the day his adoption went through.”

“But he knows that he’s our son and we love him,” Sungchan added, shifting forward as his voice carried a slight edge to it.

“Of course, of course he knows that.” Dr. Kwon’s tone hadn’t lost any of the gentle kindness she began the conversation with. “Both you and he told me about another kid, in his class, who was not so understanding.”

“Yeah, it made buddy a little upset, but he seemed fine by the next day.”

“I do think he was fine. Until he had a recent dream, about falling asleep in his bed and waking up in someone else’s home,” she informed you, and you felt a harsh twinge in your chest as you realized that your son hadn’t even told you about that. “He’s not afraid that you two will give him away so much as he’s afraid that somebody will come take him from you.”

“Oh…” You breathed out, feeling yourself grimace as you thought about how scared your son must have felt since then.

Sungchan reached over to hold one of your hands. “What can we do? What are our options?”

“We can work on his anxiety, coping skills, attachment in sessions. Since it’s affected your daily lives as a family so much, I recommend starting at three times a week, and we can adjust from there. I would like both of you to attend as many as possible.”

“Of course,” you nodded quickly, squeezing Sungchan’s hand tight.

That night, after helping Woobin brush his teeth with his toothbrush and toothpaste that had migrated into your bathroom, you took your nighttime medication, then tucked it back away into the childproofed medicine cabinet. Sungchan was doing some late-night grading in your home office, but you had a five-year-old to put to bed on time, so you had started on that without him.

Woobin clambered up into his place in the middle of the mattress first, and you lifted up the comforter and blankets to slip in next to him. With the thoughts of his nightmare still weighing heavily on your heart, you called out to him quietly, “Binnie? Can Mommy cuddle with you?”

“Of course, Mommy!” He chirped, immediately taking it upon himself to scramble over to you under the covers and wrap himself around your middle like a koala.

You laughed, enveloping him in your arms to hold him to you even tighter. Pressing a long kiss to the top of his head, you then tucked him under your chin. Yeah, this was exactly what you needed. You had his next appointments set up with Dr. Kwon, and she hadn’t told you to change anything you were doing yet. So tomorrow you’d continue your new routine of bringing your son to campus with you and passing him between you and Sungchan—usually whoever was in office hours had him, or if you were both in a class, whoever had the smaller class. You had tried dropping him off at your parents’ house once, but as soon as he realized that you were leaving without him, he wouldn’t let go of your leg, his eyes started watering, and you immediately folded. Preschool was a no-go, as he had a soft, indefinite ban for the foreseeable future until he was no longer going to be a disruption. They were continuing to hold his spot at no charge to you, at least. It had been stressful, and there hadn’t been very long stretches of time in the past two weeks where you had been apart from him, but there wasn’t once where you ever felt resentful towards your son himself, you realized. He’s what you did this all for.

“I love you, Binnie,” you murmured, kissing his hair again. “Love you so much.”

“I love you so much too, Mommy,” Woobin mumbled back sleepily, his words punctuated by a yawn.

You smiled fondly, listening as the sounds of his breathing evened out as he drifted off to sleep. Not much later, and your bedroom door slowly creaked open. Sungchan quietly went about his own nighttime routine before finally shutting the bathroom light off and closing the door behind him. You were a little confused when he walked over to your side of the bed, though, thinking your son’s sippy cup that was sitting there might’ve needed a last-minute refill. Then you felt him raise the sheets and start squeezing himself in behind you.

“You’re going to fall off, Channie,” you whispered, trying to bite back the giggles bubbling up in your chest.

“Then make some room, baby,” he responded, his quiet words even more hushed by the fact that he was pressing his face into your shoulder as he readjusted.

You gently scooted further in on the bed, trying to jostle the child attached to you as little as possible, not wanting to wake him so soon after he’d fallen asleep—if he woke up now, he’d definitely be awake for another three hours at least. Sungchan scooched with you, molding himself around you after you’d gotten settled in again, and burying his face in the back of your neck. He slung an arm over your waist, his hand finding one of yours where it was resting on Woobin’s back, slotting his fingers with yours.

After some time, when you were sure your son was deep asleep, Sungchan spoke again, “I had a student ask me what death of the author is.”

You craned your neck to try to look at his face out of the corner of your eye. “In your bio class?”

“Yeah, I thought it was weird too.”

“Are they… in one of my classes? And thought that you would know because we’re married? And knew that we’re married?” Obviously there were pictures of you, Sungchan, and your son in his office, but since classrooms and labs were shared spaces at the university, professors didn’t decorate or keep personal belongings in there. The average Intro to Bio student wouldn’t have any reason to know that you and Sungchan were married just from attending lecture.

“That was my first thought, too. Turns out he had you last semester.”

You scrunched your nose in confusion. “Then why…?”

“Apparently, in your class, he met this cute Lang major, but she didn’t seem too impressed with him. Thinks he’s a dumb jock.” Sungchan’s chest vibrated with his chuckle.

“Because he doesn’t know what death of the author is? Is he failing your bio class, perchance?”

“No.”

“Did she actually tell him she thought he was a dumb jock, or is he just assuming?” You asked pointedly.

“He seemed pretty convinced.” Your husband grinned and nudged you with his shoulder. “Sound familiar?”

“What are you—Oh my god, you think that sounds like us?” You rolled your eyes. “I did not think you were a dumb jock! I just… didn’t think about you really at all.”

“Ouch.” His pout was still very visible in the dim light of your bedroom.

“Not my fault you opted to pine for three years like a loser instead of talking to me.”

“Words hurt, you know.”

You shook your head. “So were you able to tell him what death of the author is?”

“No. But he’s apparently trying to read along from your Brit Lit I syllabus.”

“So that’s why you knew Bisclavret the other day. He won’t get very far on his own, even translated, Old English can be pretty awkward to get through,” you warned.

“Yeah… So do you have any study guides?” He batted his eyelashes at you, and you once again rolled your eyes.

“Seriously? You should tell him to talk to her like a person. He won’t get anywhere if he’s constantly thinking of both of them one-dimensionally. Him as the dumb jock, and her as the smart Lang major,” you scoffed. “Sound familiar?”

“That’s a no on the study guide?”

“The Internet exists. And you didn’t get me by making me swoon over your knowledge of Breton lais.”

“True.” He clicked his tongue in the back of his mouth. “I’ll ask him if she has any chronic illnesses to tend to.”

“You didn’t stay with me during the Halloween party as some elaborate scheme to get me to date you. At that point, you still thought you were friendzoned. If my memory serves me.” You pointed out.

He yawned and nuzzled his cheek against your shoulder. “Perhaps…”

“You stayed with me because you’re a good, sweet guy, always have been,” you continued, taking your hand that he had been holding back to reach behind you and poke his leg. “That’s how you got me.”

“Aw, you still know how to my heart flutter, baby. Even after fifteen years.”

You smiled to yourself as he kissed your shoulder. “Yeah, you’re easy.”

“And still know how to wound me with so few words.”

“I love you, too, Channie,” you chuckled softly, taking his hand again under the covers.

“Only this easy for my girl.” He murmured, dropping another kiss to your shoulder. “Love of my life.” Another kiss, this one on your cheek. “Can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives together.”

“We’re already married,” you said humorously, wiggling your entwined left hands pointedly.

“So? I can only talk about spending the rest of our lives together before we sign the marriage papers? Can’t do it while we’re actually living that life together and raising our son?”

“Well when you put it like that…” You turned your head to catch his lips with yours in a soft, sweet kiss.

Sungchan hummed into the kiss, pecking the corner of your mouth when you pulled away.

“I love you, my Sungchannie,” you professed as you’d done thousands of times before, each time thinking that you could never be more in love with this man than you were in that moment, and yet each time it felt like your love had only grown exponentially since the last time you said it.

“I love you too. My girl,” he replied, resting his forehead against yours. You didn’t need him to speak to know what he was thinking. The two of you were going to get through this. Even though right now, you don’t know exactly how, you would.

➠ series masterlist | blog masterlist

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jokeroutsubs · 2 days

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[NEW ENG translation] Kris from Joker Out announced something we definitely didn't expect

A new article and quick interview with Kris Guštin and Nace Jordan, published 16.6.2024 here on metropolitan.si. Check out the link for more photos as well! Original article written by A.R. for Metropolitan, translated by @kurooscoffee and another member of Joker Out Subs, proofread by TWT klamstrakur.

Photo credit: Mediaspeed/B. C.

Joker Out returned to Ptuj after one year, but for Bojan, the performance was a big personal challenge.

After a successful European tour, Joker Out finally played a concert on home soil. This weekend, they performed for the first time in their career at the beautiful Panorama location, overlooking the Ptuj Castle. The reason for the big concert spectacle was to celebrate half a century of the popular Poli brand.

We caught up with the guys backstage just before the concert, where Joker Out members Kris Guštin and Nace Jordan spoke to Metropolitan about their upcoming new single and the challenges that they face when performing outdoors. They sent a special message to Slovenian fans that you'll definitely want to hear.

Photo credit: Mediaspeed/B. C.

The beautiful ambience of the Ptuj Castle was the perfect backdrop for Joker Out's hot Friday concert. Both Nace and Kris were impressed with the location, and Kris told us:

"We've already done all the other castle courtyards in Ptuj, this is the only one left. I like the location because the field slopes down a bit. The stage is set lower, it reminds me a bit of the original Woodstock music festival."

About their new single 'Šta bih ja'

The boys have recently returned from abroad, where they have been recording their new studio album, which is expected to be released in early autumn.

"We were in the studio for a month, where we worked hard and toiled away. We haven't even gotten around to listening to everything that's been done. We needed a bit of a break because that period was really intense, so now we're slowly getting back into it and we're working on the new single, 'Šta bih ja', which will be released in the summer," says Kris. The upcoming song has already been heard by the audience of their European tour and has already become a hit.

Kris Guštin and Jan Peteh. Photo credit: Mediaspeed/B. C.

Kris and Nace describe how it all started: "When we started playing Šta bih ja live, we didn't even think it would be a single ... When we got on stage and started playing it, people were singing it, so it felt like it was already released and then we knew it was the right song for a single."

Nace Jordan. Photo credit: Mediaspeed/B. C.

Let's allow the final studio version of 'Šta bih ja' to be a surprise. At the end of the tour, Nace fulfilled a special wish, to buy a new guitar, while Kris got his wish just by touring, because, as he told us, he has already visited almost all European countries. In the summer, he will tick off Romania and Bulgaria, leaving him only Portugal and the smaller countries of Vatican City and San Marino.

Coming up after the release of the new album ...

As the concert was outdoors, we also talked about annoying animals such as moths and mosquitoes, which can sometimes wander onto the stage. "In the past, before I joined the band, I had several occasions when I ate a fly during a performance, had problems with mosquito bites, and moths bumping into my head," Nace says with a smile, while Kris adds that he remembers that their singer Bojan once had a very close encounter with a moth.

Finally, Kris, on behalf of Joker Out, gives Slovenian fans a piece of news that we definitely didn't expect, as the band hadn't originally planned any shows in Slovenia this year: "We would like to tell the Slovenian audience that the Ptuj show was the only show in Slovenia this summer, but when the album is released, Slovenians will definitely be one of the first ones to be able to hear it live."

Kris and Nace backstage with us before the big concert. Photo credit: Editorial team

People came to the concert from abroad as well

Joker Out stepped onto the stage a few minutes before 9 p.m. and took us into the Friday night with their hit single 'Gola'. They followed it up with 'Vem da greš', 'Tokio', 'Dopamin', 'Ona', the upcoming single 'Šta bih ja', 'Omamljeno telo', 'A sem ti povedal', 'Vse kar vem', 'Katrina', 'Demoni', 'Padam', and 'Metulji'.

Their former member, bassist Martin Jurkovič, who the boys still consider an extended 6th member of the band, was also spotted at the concert. There's nothing better than seeing that the boys still support each other and stand by each other.

Photo credit: Mediaspeed/B. C.

For the singer Bojan, returning to Ptuj was pivotal in a way, as it was in this exact town that he experienced a panic attack last summer. Before the start of the song 'Everybody's Waiting', he bared his soul in front of an audience of several thousand people and spoke about his fears.

"Last year, I had an anxiety attack during the concert. I have to admit that since then, I've been kind of mildly-severely traumatised, and at every concert since then, I was shaking badly and experiencing panic attacks. So today, we've returned to Ptuj, in front of a much bigger audience, and I've decided that today is the day to throw off these shackles, and for the stage to become a safe, home-like space again. Thank you very much for tonight, you're wonderful and we feel this love and 'let's end this'. And just so you know, nothing's happened yet, so we're doing great." Then he sat behind the keyboard and sang the emotional ballad 'Everybody's Waiting'.

Photo credit: Mediaspeed/B. C.

Up next were the songs 'NGVOT', 'Proti toku', 'Bele sanje', 'Plastika', 'Carpe Diem', 'Ne bi smel', and 'Barve oceana'. Of course, their repertoire included their Eurovision song 'Carpe Diem', which opened many doors into the international market for them. This is confirmed by the fact that they have a lot of fans around Europe, as flags in various colours flew in the air. People had come from, among others, Finland, Italy and Serbia.

Photo credit: Mediaspeed/B. C.

During the song 'Umazane misli', it was time for karaoke, where the most eager fans in the front rows got their turn. Among other things, we could also hear a Finnish version of 'Umazane misli'.

The band members finished the concert with the hymn of a generation, 'Novi val', with which they hope to be the new generation themselves, the new wave, that can bring change to this world.

Photo credit: Mediaspeed/B. C.

#joker out #nace jordan #kris guštin

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obsessedwrhys · 1 day

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I was wondering if I could request a Leo or/and Donnie x reader. (I don’t know if you do multiple- if you don’t- super sorry! Just do whichever one you feel in the mood to do) where if someone runs a finger through their hair or scratches for scalp they just melt? Like full on limp- very easy to make reader stop overworking themselves, cuddle with them, just get them to sleep, ya know! Hope that makes sense lol!

DISASTER TWINS X TOUCHSTARVED!READER

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ fluff, no angst, reader is gn!! (I didn't know what to name this headcanon 🤷🏻‍♀️)

LEO

You just know being with this man means being constantly showered with affection.

That's why you two are easily the perfect pair.

Everytime you find yourself stressed from your work, he could feel his senses kicking in from a mile away. Before you know it, he's already by your side to provide emotional support.

"Alright alright!! Time to take a break!! Chop chop!!" He'd shoo you out of the chair and drag you to his bed.

He knows how hard your work is, at least he does from the things April has told him. That's why he goes over the top when helping you unwind.

Back massages, feet rubs, and your favourite, head massages. Dude would definitely purchase body oil for you. The way he so delicately runs his hands through your hair while also making sure he applies just enough force for it to be soothing. You couldn't help but hum happily.

Those noises being signs that he's doing things just right!!

Apart from that, if you were to finish your work, he would definitely reward you by buying all your favourite snacks while also cuddling together to watch a show you've been meaning to start.

But if you're too tired. He'd just play your comfort songs as you guys just cuddle to sleep.

He has a ton of playlists that contains your favourite songs.

You could ask him about that one song you don't remember the name to and he'll instantly know which one you were talking about.

He likes to brag about having such a hard working partner to his brothers.

Like pleaseeee you wish you could get lucky like me 🤭

Of course he's not fine with you overworking yourself. That's a huge no no for him.

If you were to object his idea of taking a break, this man will straight up kneel down and rest his head on your lap like a dog desperate for your attention. He wouldn't stop sighing or making sad noises until you've given in.

He knows you like physical touch so if you ever liked, he wouldn't mind keeping you company as you worked, which most of the time resulted in him falling asleep on the table.

He just wants to be apart of it okay!!! You like to tell him he's doing a good job even though he doesn't do much but play with the pencil by trying to balance it on his nose.

100% cutie patootie

DONNIE

Now this man don't play around.

If you tell him you need to get the work done on time then this man will help you make sure it's done on time.

He's extremely helpful, he watches as you work but he won't intervene unless you request for his assistance. That's because he wants you to grow and solve things by yourself.

However if he were to see you start to burn out from frustration, he'd suggest you guys to take a break which he likes to call "Coffee break"

Do not ever say no to coffee break because this man will talk you to tears by justifying about a topic you strongly disagree on.

He'd brew you both a cup of coffee, but if you happen not to be into caffeine then tea will do.

Since he's aware of how you seem to shut off your mind from physical touch, he would cuddle with you as he just scratches your scalp. The way your eyes flutter close makes him smile to himself.

As someone who also struggles with burn outs, he would hate for the same to happen to you. Yeah sure he doesn't take care of himself that well but that doesn't mean he'll let that happen to you!!!

If you are ever too exhausted, he'd offer to wash your hair for you. You know like those things they have at the saloon where you lay down and put your hair in the open sink thingy (im lazy to find the name)? Yeah he'd definitely make one in his lab just for your personal use.

He would 1000% watch tutorials online to give you that sensational experience.

Everytime you guys cuddle to sleep, you would still be a little awake to feel his hands tracing the features on your face. This habit of his pretty much became a routine that you have a harder time of sleeping if he isn't caressing your face.

He likes to reward you with kisses on the forehead everytime you get your work done. But that's not all, he'd always invent something new just for you. He may or may not have caught a sneak peek of your wishlist, and since some of the things you've wished for can be easily made by him. Why not save that money and let him do his magic?

He surprises you each time with the gifts and you are grateful every time.

Cuddles during movie night is a must!! I don’t know why but I just have a feeling this man probably has like a small cinema hidden in his lab.

You guys would always watch any TV series together, like one will not continue on to the next episode without the other there to watch it with them.

His cuddles are the best when you guys are watching romance movies. Especially during a romantic scene. His body would scoot closer to yours without him even realising. His arms around your body tightening slightly as he nuzzles his face a bit onto your skin.

100% supportive bf

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puppetwoman17 · 15 hours

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I wonder what the batfam's reactions would be if the joker escapes wherever they sent him to, finds Tim on patrol and was like "Long time no see JJ," and then going on about how he should come home with him back to arkham and he'll help him "recover" and are trying to get to Tim's location as fast as they can while listening in on comms?

This was actually a scenario I thought of the day I found out about JJ. I feel like after what happened, Tim would do the opposite of what Jason would and has done. Instead of going to find the Joker, he would stay as far away from him or even his goons as possible. It would be like the third Robin and the Joker had no history, nothing to tie them together(which probably made Jason angry at some point).

So when he breaks out of Arkham(AGAIN, jesus), Tim, Babs, and Bruce don’t waste a minute before bringing up that Tim has another case he has to work on that is of the “upmost importance”. It’s actually just a 12 year old homicide cold case that he solved a month ago but no one has to know that. Jim knows to sweep that under the rug when RR comes by with the same exact evidence he came with a month ago.

But Lady Luck has never been on Tim’s side. The rest of the bats quickly lose track of the Joker. Babs manages to find him, but by that point, it’s too late.

Joker finds him. And he recognizes him. Underneath the new name, costume, and styled hair, Joker finds his “son”.

As you can imagine, he’s over the moon. But he’s also just as angry.

“Junior! You don’t call, you don’t text, you don’t send out an email. What’s a pop got to do to get their son to notice them?”

“I’m not your son.”

“Not with that hair you’re not. Your skin’s not how I left it at all! And what happened to that beautiful smile of yours? Did the bat ruin that too?”

Tim doesn’t take jabs about his smile well. This is why. And it gets under his skin that even after using so much foundation and concealer, the Joker can still see the remnants of smile lines along his cheeks.

“You’ve been avoiding me, Junior. You know papa doesn’t like being ignored.“

“You’re not my dad.”

“Ha! Who is then? Certainly not the old bat. Anyhow, this isn’t about him. It’s been so long, kiddo. Why don’t we stop by the old warehouse and have a chat. Maybe even pick up Mama while we’re at it.”

“Harley would rather die than go with you, and I’m not following you anywhere. Batman already has your location.”

That brushes the smile off the freak’s face. The expression he has on now is sickly reminiscent of how he was when he, Tim, and Harley played family years ago. It’s not a look he gives to other people. No one else has seen it, so they might think Tim a liar. But he can’t deny the parental disappointment in the man’s eyes.

“I know they don’t know.”

Now that. That really gets to him.

“None of your business.”

“It it, but you’re welcome to deny it. I believe it’s just the old bat, the beat up cop, and Ms. Gordon, correct? Not even the first Robin! Ha! I wonder what the second bird would think. Not to mention the girls! Oh! And we can’t forget about little old Signal.”

Tim doesn’t need him to tell him. He’s gone over the scenario so many times it drives him mad. What each of them would say. What he could do to make them think differently. What he would have to do if they found out. Where he could run to. It never gets easier.

Joker is trying to scare him. That’s the only conclusion he definitively has. And aside from his general psychotic tendencies, he genuinely believes he and Tim are family.

By the time Batman arrives with the GCPD, the Joker is tied and ready for extraction. But the villain’s smile is no less fear-inducing.

“You know I’m right, my boy,” he says as he’s take into the back of a truck.

“They’ll never look at you the same way again.”

It’s only when everything is over that Tim takes the time to look over his gear that he finds his mistake. One that the Joker knew about. One that he exploited.

When he shut off the comms, he didn’t shut them off. In his delirium over his past, instead of closing them off, he muted them. While he couldn’t hear any of their chatter, they definitely heard his. And he didn’t send Babs his acceptance to shut his comms off, something she couldn’t do without express permission.

So when he unmuted the comms, you can only imagine what he heard.

#batman #dc #tim drake fanfiction #tim drake #red robin #joker #joker junior #Barbara #oracle #jim gordon #bruce wayne #nightwing #red hood #Robin #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #duke thomas

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skyartworkzzz · 1 day

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what do the bishops do in the cult? Are they happy or plotting revenge?

At first their reactions varied from plotting revenge to escaping or overtaking the cult, I think all of them have tried to kill the Lamb at some point xD

But with enough time and the right companies, they eventually learned to like their new home! And even find themselves guilty for what theyve done in the past, each at their own pace and manner

Long texts under the cut for more details! :D

Leshy was probably the less-management one, when he joined he'd break a lot of things and purposefully make the Lamb's life harder, like a kid throwing a tantrum It was only when he was assigned under Beau's care that he chilled out. Beau has always been good with people, so it was no problem for him to figure Leshy out and help him to eventually come to terms with his new home After the getting-used-to's, Leshy became pretty much the chillest out of all the other Bishops. He's fine with living in the cult and honestly enjoys it to an extent, but will obviously never say it aloud xD once threatening people and the Lamb, now befriending / getting acquainted with some of them! He works as a farmer or bartender most of the time

Heket was surprisingly along the same lines of chill. She was definitely unhappy with her situation, but was the most relieved one to be free from the Crowns influence Now able to genuinely experience the taste of food and feel that emptiness inside of her being filled in at last, she quickly learned to like her new home Ofc tho, she never said it, and in fact became much quieter compared to before, since she no longer had the Crowns power to easen up her throat. Now it hurts a lot more to talk, she has to take meds in order to soothe it up and tends to communicate mostly in gestures, stares or acts of service depending on her mood. She also knows sign language! :D She mostly works at the mines or lumberyards, seemingly enjoying to break things apart. The Lamb thinks its her way of "coping" with not being a Bishop anymore lol Out of all the Bishops, shes probably the loneliest, not many have the guts to approach her and Heket tends to like being by herself usually. Sometimes she can be found sulking about with Narinder, the second loneliest out of all the others

Kallamar was likely the most outraged one, since hes been stripped away from the luxuries of being a Bishop like clothings, weapons, jewelries, a nice fancy home. He thought that getting the Crowns back could bring his old life back, not for the sake of power, but the comfort and safety it gave him. Hes definitely the one who has tried scheming against the Lamb many times, still holding his knowledge of weapons and magic in general. But to no surprise, he always failed LOL Kallamar only started calming down once seeing his spouses/disciples in the cult, whom he had tried to get to work with him against the Lamb, but refused or failed still After everything, he'd become depressed, desperately missing when he was taken seriously as an authority figure, but with time his spouses will teach him to like his new life Nowadays he still misses his old life, but is more at peace with being in the cult, especially knowing those he loves and cares about the most are with him (aka his spouses and siblings). Hes the one who will break the most sweat to truly get used to the cult Sometimes he works as a tailor or at the refinery, crafting tends to calm him down and distract him from his thoughts. However, he mostly prefers to be a medic at the Healing Bay, since its one of the few things that remind him of what he once was

Shamura would likely jump from chill to disturbed depending on their mood. Although they believe to be deserving of their punishment, a part of their mind which was considerably overtaken by the Crowns' ideals will sometimes force them to look for a way out or relinquish back the eldritch power, usually against Shamura's will, like voices they'd hear from time to time telling them what to do All in all tho, theyd be the one to try their best to like their new home and even purposefully make themselves miserable out of guilt for their past mistakes, something which the Lamb is either compassionate for or allows them to do due to their own hatred for the Bishops still There'd be many times where Shamura seemed to "sleepwalk" around or found themselves outside the cult without memory of how they got there. Itd be only when they ask the Lamb to become their Disciple that the voices in their head start to quiet down, now being overpowered by the Red Crowns influence Eventually, they become an official Disciple and scribe for the Lamb. Their psychotic episodes will significantly reduce, but still happen from time to time with minor consequences The Lamb often finds themselves questioning whether Shamura is being genuine on what theyve chosen, but is very much compelled to forgive them one day

#ask #cotl #cotl headcanons #cult of the lamb #cult of the lamb headcanons #cotl leshy #cotl heket #cotl kallamar #cotl shamura

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in-fair-verona-we-set-our-scene · 1 day

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Like, the Emperor is definitely laying it on rather thick when you explore his little hidey-hole underneath Elfsong Tavern. I've seen a few people claim it placed those items solely there to manipulate us which no, I think it is just genuinely that sentimental. If it were staged 1. when would it have time to set it up, it's stuck in the Prism, and 2. I really do not think it would so readily reminds us that it eats human brains by leaving the cages there. But yes, it is certainly doing its best to reinforce it's Just Like You Really so you can Trust It and Please Don't Murder It Maybe.

But I don't really... mind? Lots of people are acting like doing that is something totally unforgivable or makes it untrustworthy but if anything I find it relatable and sympathetic.

The Emperor is in a really vulnerable position here. It cannot leave the Prism. The only reason it has not been forced to return to the Netherbrain is because it's sucking the powers from Orpheus, a tenuous ability at best. Externally, it can doing nothing but try to get a group of traumatized adventurers to do this very important, difficult thing without dying or getting too distracted or siding with the enemy before the clock runs out and the Netherbrain wins. Also it's a mindflayer, a species of known mind manipulators who common knowledge says You Do Not Trust Under Any Circumstance that have already harmed the party.

The Emperor is either functionally helpless and at our mercy or refuses to exert what mental influence it has over the party outside of mundane manipulation regardless of how dire things get. It will do no harm to us beyond some threatening mental images which it never follows through on anyway, and only if you're a real asshole (until it's taken by the Netherbrain at least). YOU hold the majority of the power here since you can act outside the Prism and what little leverage the Emperor had by being the only thing stopping us from falling under the Absolute's control can be lost if you free Orpheus (and it's entirely reasonable for it to expect that Orpheus will kill the Emperor and the rest of the party for being infected as well). Every risk you take is also the Emperor's in practice and it can't do shit to stop you beyond getting a little angry and trying to reason with you. It's position in the party is incredibly fragile and can be easily lost if an alternative is found, at which point it could be discarded unless you decide you decide the Emperor is indeed a person who want to help and trust willingly. It's fate is entirely in your hands.

So like, it's behaviour here is totally understandable! If I were in that situation, even without the additional mindflayer hurdle, I'd probably be doing the exact same thing! Also just in general I'm kinda empathetic to someone doing an exaggerated This Is How Normal People Act Please Like Me act, or trying to lead someone to a realization about yourself that you know they'd reject if you just told them. Maybe it's just the neurodivergent in me, but I get it. Who hasn't done that dance before? I certainly have. So this isn't something I can hold against it.

#bg3 #the emperor #taking risks to trust blindly and do what's right is easy when you have save scumming is what I'm saying #the Emperor is playing blind and with a huge debuff to Charisma #plus with its own trauma regarding trusting others to not try to kill or betray it due to being a mindflayer (Ansur)#like is it a good person? ehhh like it's Baldur's Gate I'd say it's about as moral as any of the Dukes #it's a crime lord but also seems to give a fuck about the city as a whole so better than many of the patriars?#but I don't mind the manipulation since it seems pretty benign and understandable #and it never betrays you or outright deceives you with the intent to do harm

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signanothername · 2 days

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/rahafwabas/153462836880/something-new-chapter-1-time-line-part-1?source=share

But wasn’t it in implied that in this comic that Killer himself didn’t accept the Deal but that the player simply changed his code to where he would accept the Deal?

Omg i completely forgot about this comic (it’s lost treasure fr)

But you’re completely right Anon, i stand corrected, Killer’s code has definitely been messed with so he’d accept the deal and imma cry cause ma boi didn’t deserve this shit i need him to be happy 😭

Not only that but i love how this comic also brings up Something New’s different endings even if briefly, something i completely forgot to bring up in the last post

But hear me out quick analysis

I love the parallel of the comic you shared with the comic of Killer stating he was simply following his code, only to “give up”

(Art by Rahafwabas)

It gives the vibes he doesn’t know about what happened to his code, but he still knows that the player is the reason to his suffering, he sees what happened to him from a completely different perspective, he fully believes his suffering is only due to the genocide runs, that it’s cause he “gave up”

Yet Killer also obviously knows about “codes” so it makes me wonder if he’s truly oblivious to the state of his own code, cause the thing is, Killer’s really really smart, a lot smarter than he lets on, so whether he knows about his own messed up code or not and how that plays into his own perspective of things are questions i think would be super intriguing to explore, like would knowing that his code had been messed with change how Killer sees himself?? To me the answer would be no, he’d still hate himself regardless

If he had the ability, would he change his code back to what it used to be? Would he be content with simply undoing what’s been done through his code? Even when it’s the player messing with his code got him to this point? Would trying to undo what’s been done to his code actually fix his soul and return it back to normal or would it change for the worse even further?

Hell, how does messing with codes work in Something New’s setting?? is there a limit to how many times Killer can mess with his own code before it completely destroys him? would he even survive messing with his code even if for one more time? (cough more comic ideas cough)

Ugh i love ma son he’s in dire need of therapy

Thank you for sharing this <33333

———

(This is in reference to this post)

#anothers ask #ano saves asks #something new #killer #killer sans

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groenendaelfic · 2 days

Note

Hey,

haven't seen you around a lot lately. Just writing to check in. how is it going? Wish you a nice evening

it is going, thank you for asking!

Life has been very busy these past few months but is moving in a hopefully good and definitely exciting direction.

In this particular order (if memory serves correctly) I've:

decided to move halfway across the continent

marked the one year anniversary of the worst time of my life

had other people mark the one year anniversary of the worst time of my life with all that entails

quit my job (I'd been planning that for a while)

had my boss and hr offer to let me go instead and half my notice period to two months (aka 'give' me more money and facilitate my move, yay pity)

started looking for a place to live and organizing my move

found a new job in a slightly different corner of halfway across the continent (I start July 1st)

got my request for citizenship approved (epic timing guys)

found a place to live in an awesome area (I will be able to do all my errands on foot and my new job is only a short bike ride away)

told everyone I was leaving for sure

signed the paperwork to have my uncle in law take over the place here

had my cousin offer to move my stuff with his remodeled fire engine in exchange for gas and (bridge) tolls

did all the paperwork in the universe ever

started saying my goodbyes for now (I still have lots of family and friends etc here so I'll be back a lot)

had my cousin tell me he'd make a bro trip out of the move because his friends really wanted to see a basic bridge, and room and board plus no girls was all the compensation they needed for getting to carry my boxes

said thanks but no thanks to citizenship (sorry Wille, you'll always be my King)

was asked if I minded the move taking a bit longer because the guys wanted to stop for totally unplanned soccer (a not insignificant part of their motivation if not a deciding factor I dare say)

did more move and job leaving planning and paperwork

welcomed, fed and watered a bunch of guys really into soccer bridges and very disappointed I didn't have more boxes they could compete carrying

prepared a big lunch basket and said goodbye to said guys and my boxes

sat down to write this list wondering where I should celebrate midsummer (aka do I want to travel back and forth to get everything ready or stay until it's time to hand in my work laptop etc)

Phew, yes. Also a million other things which won't come to mind right now. Thank you to everyone who left me such kind messages btw. I appreciate them so much but am still learning to respond to kindness and compliments without awkwardness. They nevertheless give me life.

In more interesting news to everyone here I've also done a lot of writing.

Mostly on One Wild Summer, which has already grown into a monster, but I've been writing the exciting parts later on and still guesstimate a 15k or so stretch which needs bridging to get to all the fun stuff I've already written.

but also on The Prince and the Barista and As Long as We Have Each Other. I only need to make it coherent and once again fill the gap to where I stopped posting.

plus *cue exasperated sighs* I'm also 9k+ into a new fic! The (once more) absolutely most self-indulgent thing I've ever written in this fandom and something I swore I never would turn into a proper fic. Expect the prologue for that (which was meant to be 500 words and not 5k) soonish.

Everything else including regular updates not before mid to late July though I think. Because moving and starting a new job and life means busy times and while I can write scribble down connected sentences with half a mind, I can't beta read and edit with half a mind.

tl;dr: I am still writing yr fic and haven't abandoned my fics, but am also busy moving. goodbye cloudberries and lingonberries, hello wineberries vineyards and appleberries apple orchards.

#random ramblings #ask me anything #what I've been up to #not young royals #irl updates

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bisexualhomelander · 21 hours

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D E A T H B Y A M I L L I O N C U T S | C H A P T E R I

t h e p l a n

The Butchlander S4 fake marriage attempted murder part-crack part-angst you didn't know you need but absolutely want. Or something.

Billy mulls it over in his brain. That look of quiet longing. “I’ll miss us,” the cunt had said. Now, Billy isn’t an idiot. He knows a confession when he sees one. He just doesn’t know what to do with it. Surely there must be some way to utilise to full effect the weakness Homelander has just presented on a silver platter.

The plan takes on form over the course of roughly two weeks while they keep doing recon on Neuman, which should be enough evidence that it’s a shit plan, forlorn hope, a betrayal of the last of his ideals, but it’s a plan nonetheless, and that’s more than they’ve had in a while.

He doesn’t tell the Boys about it. He doesn’t tell Becca in the corner of the room about it. He definitely doesn’t tell Joe about it, but Joe has the habit of knowing anyway, and the incredulous laugh he gives Billy says it all, really. “It’s not a bad plan, but-”

He lays out his options in front of him as he tries to inconspicuously make his way to the bathroom of the Flatiron and relieve his aching stomach, puts them neatly next to him on the sink as he retches.

Homelander loves him enough to miss him.

He has a virus that is not strong enough to kill Homelander.

He is dying.

He has a virus that is not strong enough to kill Homelander in one go, but if he gets close enough to dose him again and again and again and again-

He spits into the sink, losing his train of thought in the fog that keeps overcoming his head, takes a swig of the bottle he keeps stashed here and clears his mind.

He is dying, he has the virus at his disposal, the supe cunt is into him, and he can maybe, potentially save Ryan. Good enough, right?

Right.

He looks down. His vomit is taking on more concerning colouring every single day. The six months suddenly feel like an optimistic estimate whenever he has a bad day, so he has to act quickly.

He looks at himself in the mirror, head pounding and eyes reddened. Time isn’t on his side anymore to come up with a better plan, and the cotton-y feeling in his dying head doesn’t let him think clearly anyway. To him, half-drunk and half-dead, the plan sounds absolutely impeccable by now: get close to Homelander and Ryan both, finally kill Homelander, give Ryan a way out, and spend his last six months feeling like he’s getting shit done instead of looking at the clock and waiting for it to strike twelve.

He brushes his teeth, so he can get rid of the aftertaste of sickness for the half hour he has before he’s here once more, and confidently walks over to M.M.’s desk.

Mother’s Milk is painstakingly typing numbers into an Excel spreadsheet, double and triple comparing that he got it right, and doesn’t even spare him a single glance. The tension between them has been thick enough to cut with a knife for a good while now. They’re brothers in arms just without the brothers part and, since they’re only doing recon these days, also without the arms part, so Billy’s at a bit of a loss about where they stand with each other, but he depends on the man’s goodwill now, so he puts on his least sarcastic Sunday smile and rummages around his vocal cords for his least grating tone.

“M, I need some cash.”

M.M. doesn’t look up from his work, just blindly grabs a sheet from one of the neat piles without even having to look. Not even the cunts at Vought have desks this neat. “Fill out the form. How much?”

Billy smacks his mouth, counting in his head for a rough estimate of what he’s going for here. “’Bout a cozy fifteen-thousand. And the address of a high-end jeweller.”

M.M.’s face is going through all five stages of grief within the next four seconds, but he does hand Billy the form. “What are you doing?”

“Gettin’ married. Felt like just the thing that’s gonna make me feel better after the blow of being demoted.”

M.M. looks unimpressed. “Butcher, no. What are you doing?”

Billy gives him a smile that is so broad it makes his face hurt and snatches the form out of his grasp.

There will come a time, roughly three months from now, where Mother’s Milk will look at the television in Monique’s house (because it’s his house, too, again) and start swearing so much that Monique will comically cover Janine’s ears like they’re living in a cartoon – which they might as well be now, what with this fucking headline on Breaking News.

The former conversation will replay in his head, and he will retroactively slap himself for ever handing Butcher that form.

“Your bride-to-be is a very lucky woman,” the clerk tells him, giving him a surprisingly friendly smile for someone in customer service. Well, no surprise there.

He is currently in the process of buying one of the absolute treasures of this shop; the clerks are practically falling over themselves to suck his cock. Their first impression of him had been decidedly different, judging by their looks of scepticism as he had sauntered in in his ratty coat and washed-out grey Hawaiian tee, but a quick wave of his wallet filled with crisp new Langley dollars had quickly dispelled their doubt and made him customer numero uno, much to the dismay of the other patrons.

Through the window of the store, he can see a woman look at the rings on display. Billy blinks, and the woman has turned to Becca, wrapped in her favourite winter coat – the blue plaid one he had bought for her – and looking so unhappy that Billy is about half a step from walking away and throwing the plan into the nearest garbage bin. This is the ultimate betrayal of his wife. Billy has never considered himself a widower, not for her first death and not for her real death, either. So what he is doing is adultery – at least to his mind.

Except it’s not real. It will look real on paper, and he has to lie to Ryan about it, but he’s sworn oaths he didn’t mean before, and he’s also lied to Ryan before, so what is one more lie?

The ring is a simple thing. Matte gold. Tasteful. If the plan doesn’t work, he’ll give it to Hughie. The lad’s been playing coy with Tinkerbell for a little too long. If the plan works, this ring will likely never see the light of day, suffocated under gaudy pleather gloves. It’s too expensive and much too beautiful for those fucking hands, but Billy has decided on this one. Plain. Simple. Not so over-the-top the cunt will immediately know this is fake.

“Yeah, luv, look, I need this a size bigger.”

The clerk gives him a look. The ring is already in the biggest women’s size, and sizing it up means exactly what she thinks it means.

Billy nearly laughs at the realisation this isn’t what’s bothering him. It’s the one thing that isn’t bothering him about his situation.

“Um, yes, sure. Absolutely. We have the same model in the… men’s section.”

His status as most beloved customer is quickly wavering, but his wallet isn’t, so the clerk swallows any misgivings she might have and remembers this country has marriage equality.

Billy looks towards the window. The woman has wandered on without having bought a ring. He still has his somewhere. He’d never checked whether Becca had still worn hers after all that time. When he sees her now, she’s wearing it.

Always.

Silver, not gold. Shiny, not matte. His name engraved in it. This new one won’t have any engravings.

The clerk doesn’t know that yet. “What’s his name?” she asks, choking on the pronoun in a way that makes Billy somewhat happy. He’s not currently the most uncomfortable person in this room.

The cunt’s face flashes in his mind, everything about him as fake as can be. The bleached hair, the muscle suit, the smile to hide how lifeless his eyes are. The name’s fake, too, and Billy really has to admit that-

“I’ve got no fucking clue, luv.”

He pays in cash.

The ring is heavy in his pocket, and he wraps his fingers around it, warming it up underneath his skin. He thinks of proposing, and he thinks of Becca, and he thinks of their wedding night, and he thinks of how he may very well have a second wedding night in his nearest future.

And he turns into the nearest alley to vomit up the taco he’d eaten earlier, at least partly sure this new bout of sickness isn’t from his brain tumour.

To the surprise of absolutely nobody, Joe Kessler is waiting for him when he exits the alleyway, put-together in suit and tie like always.

“You followin’ me to go grocery shopping now?”

Joe laughs. “You callin’ that grocery shopping? I just wanted to see what you spend the CIA’s money on, and lo and behold- You’re really doing this? Actually going through with it?”

“I might.”

“Buying a ring is a little more than ‘might.’ I’m just sayin’-” Joe puts his hands into his coat pocket to fight the wind. “You’re not exactly dating the guy, so are you really just walking up to him, get on one knee and serenade?”

“And you think he’ll care? Cunt doesn’t think like a normal human. You don’t know, but there was a time when he used to randomly drop by my place at bumfuck midnight just to talk. He’s lonely and desperate and insane enough to fall for it. I know he’s half in love with me already, and the other half- I’ll make it work.”

“So you keep saying. You also keep telling me he’s good at knowing when you lie. Have you ever thought about that? You won’t have to pretend just once. You’ll have to pretend for months if you’re unlucky. One slip-up, and he’s going to know none of it is real. And you’ll have a red-hot hole in your head to go with your cancer.”

Billy tightens his fingers around the ring. “Call it my atonement. God knows it’s a little late.”

Frenchie is less sceptical than M.M. had been, but Billy still thinks it wiser not to discuss it in the Flatiron with him. They are sitting in the current flat that Frenchie inhabits with his new conquest. Billy has chosen the timing of his visit well: Colin’s off with Annie and that other girl to work at their little pet project, and it’s early enough that Frenchie’s not yet high again but late enough that he’s not still high from the previous evening.

“Not an easy task, Monsieur Charcuter.”

“If it was easy, I’d have asked anyone else.”

“There’s a reason it has-”

“Is it possible or not?”

The Frenchman cocks his head, scrunches his face up. “It’s possible to make it portable, like you ask. That is not the difficult thing. But making the virus to last- It is harder in lipids, so I have to ask why chapstick? Does your target use chapstick?”

“We know blood and saliva are the best candidates for transmission, and blood’s gonna be a bit difficult. Current target is quite bulletproof. I ain’t got the means to make him bleed.”

“Your secrecy is not making this easier, mon ami, but who am I to question, huh?”

“Frenchie, I ain’t promising you the Nobel Prize or anything other than my eternal gratitude if you get it right, so either that’s enough for ya or…”

Frenchie pouts, but gives him a nod. “I want to see if it’s possible for myself. I got that researcher’s spirit, the need for discovery for its own sake, and you are just lucky to know me, non? However, I do not offer my work free of charge. I give you your spiked chapstick, you give me a name.”

Three days later, Billy looks at the unassuming chapstick Frenchie has produced. It sits on the counter of his bathroom where Frenchie has checked to see whether it would seamlessly blend in with any other cosmetics. A cheap brand, something a man like Billy might use. If he used chapstick. A welcome barrier, maybe. Put it on thick enough and he can pretend his lips will never touch what they should not.

Frenchie is proud, eyes glistening with a joy not born from narcotics. Not born from narcotics exclusively because by his own admission, he hasn’t slept in three nights just to get this finished. “If your target is a supe with super senses, then it might not work for them to use this,” he tells Billy. “Even if they don’t know what the virus is and what it smells like, they will become suspicious by the odd aftertaste. I don’t think I can mask it entirely.”

“I know. I considered this when I planned it. The chapstick smells like sickness and death, so no one in their right mind would use it, right? He’d be crazy to put this anywhere near his lips. Nah, mate, but he ain’t the one using it. I will be. It’s for me.”

Frenchie blinks at him. Billy really doesn’t feel like elaborating more because speaking it into existence is bad luck for certain, but he doesn’t have to. Not only does Frenchie have a researcher’s spirit, he also has a poet’s heart, and his face lights up with revelation. “A kiss of death,” he murmurs.

“Kiss of death,” Billy feels safe to confirm. Speaking the words makes him shudder. It’s real now. The ring, and the weapon. Bell, book, and candle. All he needs now is to say his prayers and say them right. “Not just one, either, because one won’t do the job. No, this cunt needs more than a tight-lipped prom kiss.”

“Monsieur Charcuter, there are depths to you that have not been plunged by any sane mind on earth.” Frenchie gestures towards him, agitated and amused. He’s clearly enjoying this more than Billy is. “But to kiss a supe, not just once but repeatedly. This is insanity.”

“I can make your day, Frenchie,” Billy says, picking up the chapstick. “I haven’t forgotten about the payment I owe you. Promise not to breathe a word of it to M.M. or any of the other Boys.”

“Ah, my lips are sealed,” Frenchie promises and leans forward eagerly.

Billy does the same, leaning into Frenchie’s space, close enough to his ear that hopefully the reflection of Becca he can see in the bathroom mirror out of the corner of his eye does not hear it:

“Homelander.”

Frenchie’s lips are decidedly not sealed because his chin drops so dramatically it looks like he’s just spontaneously unhinged his jaw. Billy pulls away, fingers trembling around the chapstick.

With equally shaking hands, Frenchie – wide-eyed and looking dizzy – makes a quick gesture to lock his lips tight and throw the key away. Absentmindedly. In shock.

Somehow, Billy is glad that someone can so adequately express the kind of reaction he’s been suppressing for weeks now.

#billy butcher #homelander #butchlander #my writing #death by a million cuts

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cyberdragoninfinity · 1 day

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wild dana spotted howling and barking about yugioh arc-v out in the parking lot

oh BOY oh boy it's bout that time again. i can't believe it's been OVER A YEAR (?!?!?) since i last did one of these 'i just finished a yugioh here's my little rambly retrospective about it' posts but we are BACK!!! Finished my first ever watch-through of Arc-V last Tuesday after some 8 months of it putting me through the spin cycle and now as it's wedging itself permanently into my psyche i need to talk about its Everything or i will explode. so LET'S SWING INTO ACTION!!! I'M TAKING CONTROL OF THIS DUEL STARTING NOW!!!

[SPOILERS ahead for this decade old anime, of course]

WOW. YUGIOH ARC-V, HUH. before i started it watching it, I knew two things: A.) every single bit of knowledge I'd learned about it from Duel Links events or otherwise had me so, so, unbeliebable fucking hyped. I was absolutely certain this Yugioh was going to be so full of Danabait and completely fry my brain like an egg on the griddle. I had to physically restrain myself for TWO YEARS to keep from jumping the gun and watching Arc-V before I'd finished all the series before it (a decision I'm ultimately thankful for--Arc-V hits kind of fuckign crazy as a chaser to four other yugiohs.). And also, B.) when people Talk About Arc-V they always talk about it in a Very Particular Way. like. it's hard to describe. I feel like you know it when you see it. There is the full range of human emotion in the way people talk about Arc-V. People talk about Arc-V like its a confusing, malicious specter haunting their living room. And this admittedly got me even more hyped to watch it.

And then I watched it and here I am and I KNOW NOW. I KNOW NOW WHY PEOPLE. TALK ABOUT IT LIKE THAT. FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART: WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT. SLASH POS. SLASH NEG. SLASH SECRET THIRD THING.

Arc-V is a fucking MESS. It starts out SO strong and then it starts setting plot threads on fire and writing conceptual checks it absolutely cannot cash. It falls down the narrative stairs like it has a goddamn death wish. It introduces 342052805 characters and then forgets to do anything with 99% of them. It does things to its girl characters that makes the back half of 5Ds's girl writing failure look like the height of feminist theory. If the stories I've heard about its deeply troubled production are any indication it is some kind of MIRACLE this show got made and aired at ALL. IT'S LIKE WATCHING A CAR WEAVING THROUGH TRAFFIC AT 90 MPH ONLY TO PLOW DIRECTLY INTO THE SIDE OF A PARTY CITY.

and goddamn if I didn't have a FUCKING BLAST watching it. GODDAMN IF I DIDNT HAVE SO, SO MUCH FUN. goddamn if Arc-V might very well end up being my FAVORITE yugioh out of ALL of them when all is said and done. WHOOOOOPSSS!!! 🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴

like. imo Zexal is absolutely from a quality/art direction/narrative/everything standpoint leaps and bounds better than Arc-V. Definitely one of my favorite cartoons I've ever seen period, and most people should give it a shot. Such a beautiful work of art. But Arc-V....... girl they put something In this one. My pre-show hype was absolutely warranted. This show is just one blast of Shit That Makes Dana Crazy after another. Every character absolutely delights me and is my best friend. I'm going to be losing my mind over Yugioh Arc-V for the rest of the year and maybe forever.

As usual I primarily watched the dub, with some sub episodes sprinkled in if I got tipped off about a big change, or just if I wanted to see what was going on back there. (glad I did, of course, for a number of reason--least of all that Arc-V's OPs and EDs are SO fun and so charming!!) (THOUGH SIDE NOTE: THE DUB OPENING SHREDS SO HARD IM SORRY. IT'S UP THERE WITH THE GX DUB OPENING FOR ME. CAN YOU FEEL THE FUCKING POWER!!!!!) Anyway, gotta say, really was blown away by this dub!! It's tied with Zexal for what's imo the 'best' yugioh dub--the majority of the voice performances were just fantastic (truly all the love in my heart for Michael Liscio Jr.'s performances as the yuboys, they all have such unique and charming voices and im OBSESSED WITH THEM.) and having watched some sub eps side by side with the dub it's really cool seeing a dub that genuinely tried to faithfully translate Most of the Original. idk it's just a really solid localization to me!! I loved it a lot!! ALSO IT'S EXTREMELY FUNNY. I SAY THIS ABOUT EVERY DUB BUT IT'S TRUE. there are line reads in the arc-v dub that have me SOBLAUGHING.

anyway. I like to do these little subsection breakdowns in these little retrospective roundups, so let's get into the weeds with it:

Stuff I Didn't Like: loooooooooong inhale through my nose. looks at you with mildly pained eyes. alright. let's get this one over with.

though I did really try to go in as blind as I could/avoid most spoilers with this one, I did inevitably get spoiled by some things from Duel Links, but in the case of. uh. Riley Getting Turned Back Into a Baby At the End. 👶🏼 I AM glad I had that spoiled for me, so I knew it was coming. Because if I didn't know that was going to happen and that clocked me over the head I would have been on the NEWS. I WOULD HAVE BEEN, SO MAD. HEY, YUGIOH: WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 👶🏼👶🏼👶🏼👶🏼👶🏼 WHY DID YOU DO THAT TO RILEY!!!!

"character gets permanently turned back into a baby for Critical Plot Reasons" has gotta be one of my LEAST favorite tropes in anything, it's NEVER GOOD. AND IT'S ESPECIALLY BAD HERE!!! Riley is such a good character, he's got such an interesting arc going on, and THEY JUST RIP THAT TO PIECES. SO RILEY'S JUST FUCKING GONE NOW I GUESS. COOL. ALRIGHT. SURELY THERE COULD HAVE BEEN BETTER WAYS TO DEFEAT ZARC. SURELY. just. good GOD. it was a small miracle to me when this happened like 8 episodes before the end, it was like ripping the bandaid off early, it was like "oh thank christ i got past that. ok well whatever happens it cannot possibly be as bad as the shit they did to riley"

^ (and imo it wasnt. thank GOD. actually let's talk about that)

LIKE. MAKE NO MISTAKE ARC-V'S ENDING IS CONFUSING AND CLUMSY AND SO STUPID AND NOT GOOD. WHY ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH DOES THIS SERIES NEED EIGHT EPISODES AFTER ITS BIG BAD DUEL.WE COULD HAVE WRAPPED THIS UP IN 2-3!!!! it feels like watching Chopped and the contestant has 20 seconds on the clock left and theyre like "i gotta make my whipped cream" like WEEEE DONT NOT HAVE TIMEEE FOR THAT!!!!! WHAT ARE WE DOINGGGG. why are we dueling jack AGAIN. FOR TWO EPISODES. EVERYONE IS YELLING AT YUYA LIKE ALL OF THIS IS HIS RESPONSIBILITY AND FUCKING IS IT??!?!??! HE'S 14. AND THEN THOSE EPISODES HAVE THE GALL TO THROW SO MANY COOL IDEAS ON THE TABLE (Gong fully exploring dueltaining, the Dimensional Highway, etc) AND IT'S LIKE. COOL!! WISH WE COULDVE HAD THIS ANY OTHER TIME THAN THE LAST POSSIBLE SECOND!!! WHAT ARE WE DOINGGGG

BUT all that being said, the way people talk about that fucking last episode I was expecting some genuinely godawful 'zuzu is yuyas mom again like in the manga' tier absolute nightmare scenario. i literally made a secret prediction chart of what insane plot twist i assumed the last episode was going to drop on me.

AND THEN THE LAST EPISODE WAS JUST. FUNNYBAD. just a run of the mill whimper at the end of eight episodes we KIND OF REALLY DID NOT NEED. THE SHEER AMOUNT OF RELIEF I FELT. like absolutely i think going into it completely blind/encountering that ending watching live I would have been pissed, folks are rightfully frustrated with it, but I WAS TRULY. EXPECTING MUCH WORSE. IT ENDS LIKE A FAKE TUMBLR POST. "AND THEN EVERYONE CLAPPED" ASS ENDING. I DO HAVE TO LAUGH

^ YIPPEEEE SIX CHARACTERS HAVE EFFECTIVELY STOPPED EXISTING YAAAAAYY (😬😬😬😬)

ALSO, IN GENERAL. SPEAKING OF. GOD. THE BRACELET GIRLS. YALL ARE SO COOL AND THEN POOR LULU AND RIN DIDNT GET TO DO A GODDAMN THING EXCEPT HAVE WORMS IN THEIR BRAINS!!!! HELL ON EARTH!!!!!! WHY DID THEY DO THATTTT GAHHHHH again!! show that introduces SO many characters, so many FUCKING COOL CHARACTERS, and then does NOTHING with them. Or hits them with PARALYZING NERVE GAS FOR 20 EPISODES. CHRIST!!! WHY DO ARC-V GIRLS SUFFER MORE THAN JESUS. LEAVE MY GIRL ZUZU ALONEEEEE

TO THAT END, ARC-V JUST MAKES; SO MANY CONFUSING CHARACTER DECISIONS. AND CHOICES. why is Yuto just out of the picture for like 60 episodes!!! Let him be Yuya's brain buddy!!! WHY WASNT HE. DID YOU NOT WANNA ANIMATE HIM FLOATING NEXT TO THE DUEL RUNNER??! BE REAL. It's like. GRAHHH In general Arc-V has a pacing problem that is like. Atrocious even for yugioh's bad pacing problems. This series needed to be 400 episodes long. I like the IDEA of a yugioh with a big cast, spending episodes cutting between different groups of characters like some kind of bulky YA fantasy novel, but in practice it got. Real Muddy. RIP Xyz dimension arc you shoulda had so much more to you. And then there's that combined with this way it's trying Really Really hard to ape the themes of the past yugiohs ('dont forget to have fun,' grief/moving on after loss, classism) but it's hitting every damn branch on the way down and just completely fumbling ALL of them, it's not actually doing much to Earn being able to have those kind of themes resonate properly. IT'S SUCH A BAFFLING SHOW. IN THE THEMES DEPARTMENT. AMONG OTHER THINGS. "DONT EVER BE VISIBLY PUBLICLY SAD" IS A FUCKING INSANE MORAL. AND IT TAKES THAT SHIT WITH IT TO THE BITTER END. WHY IS THE FATE OF THE WORLD HINGED ON YUYA MAKING A BABY LAUGH. WHERE AM I!!!!

god. god. ok. ok im calm now. im sure in the coming weeks i'll have more barking about arc-v's various fumbles. but i'll leave it at that for now, i wanna talk about stuff i DID like now lol

Favorite Season/Arc: ok well. this actually is a hard question. um. hrm. LIKE. I'LL GET SHOT BY SNIPERS IF I SAY IT WAS SYNCHRO ARC BUT ALSO

IM SORRYYYYYYYYYYYYY I GOT THAT DOG IN ME (A BACK HALF OF 5D'S LIKER'S SOUL.) and unfortunately I WILL go in there and think about it that hard (the absolutely fucked to hell sociopolitical situation happening in Arc-V New Domino City and how it contrasts with the NDC in 5D's) (one thing about me I love weird fucked up yugioh old people I love those bitchass old centrists apparently governing the entire dimension and doing a piss poor job of it it's just like contemporary American politics!!!!!!) ROGET WAS JUST REANIMATING DEAD PEOPLE AND PUTTING MIND CONTROL CYBERNETICS IN THEM AND WELL YEAH SURE I'LL BE NORMAL GRIP ABOUT THAT. NORMAL. i need to make an arc-v AU Aporia so fucking bad THEN YOULL ALL SEE *talking to empty room*

YES synchro was way too fucking long. but regretfully i love turbo duels and will never not be charmed when yugioh puts guys on motorcycles that have no business being on motorcycles. DAMN I JUST FUCKING WISH YUYA AND YUGO GOT TO ACTUALLY TALK AND MEET IN THE SAME ROOM THOUGH!!!! BUT ANYWAY!!!!

im. kidding at least a little, I actually thoroughly enjoyed like...all of Arc-V's seasons/arcs at least a little (barring a lot of the Weird Post Zarc Duel 8 Episode Dead Zone.) The first 50 episodes really are just peak banger Yugioh, I do love action duels to absolute bits (though Action Spells. Uh. Need Some Workshopping 8| If I See Evasion One More Time Im Gonna Lose It) and the shit especially that first season does with the crazy Action Fields is AWESOME. GENUINELY. GO DUEL IN THE VOLCANO. DO A FLIP. RIDE YOUR MONSTER. it's practically running on Pokemon universe logic i cant NOT love it. And well Fusion Dimension arc does just have a whole lot of episodes that make me go cuckoo bananas crazy. Truly something for Dana in every crevice of Yugioh Arc-V.

Favorite Characters: god I do think like a solid half of why I think Arc-V may be becoming my top fav Yugioh is that the cast is just, really Really fucking good. Like yes so many of them are underutilized but the time we Do get with them really just shows off what delightful characters they all are. Half the reason it took me so damn long to finish was I was having so much fun and was going to miss seeing them!! IT'S GENUINELY HARD TO PICK A TOP LINEUP OF FAVS. THERE'S SO MANY DANABAIT GUYS IN YUGIOH ARC-V. YES EVEN THE SYNCHRO ARC GUYS. LUCAS SWANK I MISS YOU SO FUCKING MUCH.

The Lancers alone are SO good, theyre up there with Team 5D's in terms of Favorite "Main Yugioh 'Friend Group'/Organization". Group of guys who kind of have horrible synergy and only like 3 of them are actually competent. Declan came up with it when he was 13. Funniest group of teenagers imaginable, I love them all. LIKE .YUYA MAY BE MY FAVORITE YUTAGONIST??? IM NOT SURE YET BUT. I DO LOVE HIM A LOT. HE'S A PATHETIC WET PAPER TOWEL AND I WANT TO GIVE HIM A NOOGIE. SLASH POS.

And I mean I'm always gonna be Z-one biased but I do like Zarc as a Big Bad a lot too... damn if I don't love Just Some Guy Has Become God and Is a Huge Tool About It <3 WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE THIS!!!!

ah. but. of course. i'd be remiss if i didn't bring up. Rainbow Carrot Rock Your World.

hey guys. why'd it happen again. why'd the Yugioh Carrot and Company get in my head and completely fry my brain AGAIN!!!!!!!! ORANGE CARROT. PURPLE CARROT. YELLOW CARROT!!!!🥕🥕🥕🥕🥕🥕🥕🥕🥕🥕🥕🥕🥕 YUGO ISNT EVEN MY TOP FAV BUT HE'S IN MY HEART AND IN OUR HOUSE FOREVER NOW. meanwhile i dont want. to talk about what yuri is doing to me. if i think too hard about this little purple freak i'll start going bonkers ballistic chewing my leg off. I like all the yuboys but he is especially. Gripping Me. La Cucaracha Loca. My shithead gay son.

dennis needs his own post he's just. a Lot. may very well be one of the funniest yugioh characters ever. Among Other Things. his dub VA's performance needs to be marked as culturally significant. AND THEY JUST KEPT BRINGING HIM BACK.

IN GENERAL, AS I WAS COMPLETELY EXPECTING, FUCKED UP AND EVIL DUEL ACADEMY REALLY DID ME IN I love you Fusion Dimension kids I love getting sick in the head thinking about card game child soldiers.My Actual favorite Arc-V character may just straight up be Sora..... I just like him a lot. He's got a really solid character arc, his deck rules, he's a little fucker AND an absolute real one. Just 10/10 little guy.

GOD WHAT EVEN IS MY TOP FIVE FAVORITES. UHHHH Okay Sora and Yuri for sure, and Declan, I love Declan. Yugo..... god. GOD IS THE FIFTH ONE DENNIS FOR REAL. I FEEL HIM IN MY BRAIN SO BAD. AAAAUUGHHHH (Runners Up: Yuya, Yuto, GONG MOTHERFUCKING STRONG!!!!!!, Rin my girl my badass mechanic girl IM ON MY WAY. I'LL THINK ABOUT YOU THAT HARD., Riley, Arc-V Aster unfortunately a Dana Guy ever. Why Is He Here. He Didnt Even Go to DA in GX. But all of this is subject to change in coming months as the entire cast continues to hit me with weapons. An honor and a privilege to induct these characters into my Blorbo Hall of Fame)

Favorite Duel: HEY QUICK QUESTION: WHY ARE ARC-V'S DUELS SO FUCKING WEIRD. LIKE. NARRATIVELY. There's like 4352984589 ties and duels that get cut short and DUELS WE JUST NEVER GET TO SEE THE FULL OUTCOME OF ON SCREEN?!?!? WHAT WAS GOING ON THERE. It feels like another symptom of arc-v just desperately trying to bite off more than it can chew 😭 Frustrating!! And god I LOVE the zaniness of Action Duels, but we neeeeeed to do something about Action Spells... GRABBING AN ACTION SPELL SHOULD NOT BE THE CRUTCH OF YOUR WHOLE DECK.........

coughs. anyway. My actual honest to god favorite Arc-V duel is Yugo vs. Celina in the Friendship Cup <3 IVE ALREADY TALKED ABOUT IT BEFORE BUT IT'S JUST SUCH A FUN ONE. It's got some great character moments on both sides, a yugioh girl Getting to Be Cool, the colors are gorgeous, it's SO funny, I just get such a kick out of it....I think part of what I Do like about the Friendship Cup is it really shows this sense of kinetic energy that the WRGP in 5D's really needed. I also really like the Shay vs. Dennis Friendship Cup duel for just going completely off the rails. Blow Up This War Criminal and The Whole Stadium With the Giant Bird Satellite Cannon. DOES NOT GET MORE YUGIOH THAN THAT!!

for all its weirdness Arc-V has a LOT of really fun duels that i enjoy--Shay vs. Sora is beloved for a reason, it also goes hard as hell. So many Season 1 duels are just a goofy blast, I really need to rewatch the quiz show one. For as much of an unnecessary mess as those last 8 episodes are, I DO really like Yuya and Dennis's duel too (THAT GETS REALLY REALLY GAY AT THE END???!?!? ARE WE ALL SEEING THIS.)

Hell even the Zarc duel started making me kind of sick in the head--watching Yuya's friends passing around his pendulum necklace while trying to save him makes me turbo emo WHAT CAN I SAY!!!

Arc-V also has the thing I had with Zexal where there's just some individual episodes that are absolute bangers for me. i love the Prison Break episode, it's fucking INSANE. HIP HIPPO SAID FUCK COPS FUCK THE PRISON SYSTEM!!! I love the episode where Gong and Dennis duel. FOR HOW LONG IT DID DRAG SYNCHRO HAS SOME REALLY FUN ONE-OFF EPISODES which I just really enjoy. Also love when Zuzu and Sora beat the shit out of a pack of cops. Based for that for real.

i do also love Yuri and Yuya's duel. Of course.

Other Miscellaneous Gushing/Shrieking/Losing My Mind About Yugioh Arc-V For Good and Bad and Everything in Between: arc-v arc-veeeeee yugioh arc-fiveeee theres just so MUCH. TO TALK ABOUT. THIS ONE'S GONNA BE IN MY HEAD FOR EONS I FEAR. THINKING ABOUT THE EVERYTHING. The sheer amount of narrative traits that make me specifically lose my mind (in a good way. as opposed to. the babyfication making me lose my mind. in a Real Bad Way :////) that they crammed into this. It's like digging in the treasure chest of elaborate fanfics I was writing in my brain in freshman year of high school. The Sick and Twisted Evil AU Version of Duel Academy. The Trained to Be Weapons Child Soldiers. Mind Control Reanimated Corpse Brain Chip. Alternate Dimension Selves. All of the Split Different Dimension Bullshit. Soul Splitting and Soul Fusion Framed as Fucking Terrifying. It's good I didn't have Arc-V growing up it would have been doing IRREVERSIBLE THINGS TO MY DEVELOPING CREATIVE BRAIN. INSTEAD IT'S DOING THEM TO ME NOW.

(side note, re: terrifying soul fusion: Arc-V is SO FUCKING SCARY SOMETIMES?!?? Like "ohh i wish yugioh was still a horror story" DAWG ARC-V ROUTINELY HAS SOME OF THE MOST DREAD-INDUCING CONCEPTS GETTING FLUNG AT YOU AT 90 MPH. SKIP BOYLE FORGETS HIS DAUGHTER EXISTED AND IT'S ONE OF THE MOST HEARTBREAKINGLY HORRIFYING THINGS IVE EVER SEEEEENNNNN )

The shit Arc-V does with Yugioh's themes of identity, these "when does a piece of yourself stop being you and start being their own person?" "what happens when multiple free standing people are one person" type ideas, you KNOW that makes my Aporia Turbofan ass go CRAAAZYYYY. AND THEN IT HAD RELIGIOUS MOTIFS TOO <3333 YOU'RE ME AND IM YOU AND IT DOESNT MATTER WHO DOES WHAT THE DEVIL WILL COME BACK REGARDLESS 😊💞💞💞

Arc-V takes such bold swings at things and 95% of the time it misses the ball entirely and spins up and out and directly into the fireplace but that 5% of sheer genius and thematic weight hits like a truck. Is Arc-V good? FUCK IF I KNOW. PROBABLY NOT. BUT ALSO YES IT IS. BUT ALSO IT'S NOT. BUT ALSO IT'S SOMETHING SO SPECIAL, AND I LOVE IT. That first like 50 episodes makes for such a good yugioh starter course tbh, the way it goes over different summoning methods and is very engaging and energetic, and then the rest of the show is an 18 car pileup of Card Game War that makes me automatically like DONT. START WITH THIS ONE. WATCH ANOTHER YUGIOH OR TWO FIRST AND THEN COME MELT YOUR BRAIN IN HERE. AND THATS SUCH A WEIRD DICHOTOMY TO HAVE WITH ONE YUGIOH. weird like everything else with arc-v i suppose. :,)

For all the mess and all the madness there truly is so much I love, though. I love the character dynamics, even when the show isnt doing much more with its cast--Yuya and Gong's friendship may be one of my favorite 'yutag and best friend' bonds, it's SO sweet and I'm going to be mad forever that Gong isn't more popular in western ygo fandom. I love the DUEL MONSTERS!! Performapals are SOOOO sillygoofy I have to adore them, the dimensional dragons all kick so much ass I love you Clear Wing my big legless weirdo. I love Shay's increasingly bigger Bird Guns. I LOVE FRIGHTFURS!!!! I LOVE D/D/DS!!!!! SO HAPPY TO SEE THEM ON ESPECIALLY SCREEN AFTER PLAYING THEM FOR MONTHS IN DUEL LINKS. MY FREAKY DECLAN DEMONS. I love the miscellaneous callbacks to past iconic monsters and funky weird AU retrains of the Legacu character's decks. Scarlight Red Dragon Archfiend my friend Scarlight Red Dragon Archfiend

I also do love that Arc-V in theory is trying very hard to be a celebration of past Yugiohs, but it's also instead being completely fucking insane with its 'tributes.' Oh you like Heartland City from Zexal? It's a carpetbombed warzone now! LIKE... HUH!!! When Lazar showed up at the end of season 2 i SCREAMED. I WANT TO KNOW THE LOGIC OF THESE CHOICES. THEY DONT MAKE ME MAD OR ANYTHING REALLY IM JUST FASCINATED BY THEM. i cant really be too angry at arc-v I'm just. transfixed. at every baffling choice it's ever made. I've really truly never seen a show that's so thoroughly felt like some kids doing a roleplay on a forum somewhere, players dropping in and out and mods not really knowing what to do with the lore anymore as things become more and more convoluted. I watch arc-v scenes and i can picture the text RP in my head, the players' forum signatures and all. It's truly some kind of feat to achieve that inherent vibe, that's for sure.

ok im running out of steam i think... what else. god. Yugioh Arc-V is just.... such a teetering Jenga tower of a show, a complete nuclear meltdown of clumsy writing and fantastic vocal performances (dub and sub) and confused handling of its own lore and occasionally some of the fucking coolest most intense expressions and gorgeous shots of any yugioh

I held out on watching it for so long cuz i just fuckin KNEW it was going to grab me by the brain and swing me into the wall and WELL!!! I WAS RIGHT!!!! SHES A MESS BUT SHES MY MESS BABEYYY!!! IS ARC-V GOOD? MAYBE NOT BUT, BROTHER, I FUCKIN LOVE WHEN YUGIOH IS BAD ❤ ive been a disciple of Bad Yugioh for 20 goddamn years and im not stopping now!!!!! I love you Pendulum summoning you insane busted ass mechanic. I love you all four completely fucked up dimensions. I love that they localized Maiami to Paradise City. I love the little nods to past yugioh things (like fusing with a motorcycle <3 Primo Moment...2!) I hate you Leo Akaba explode and die forever (though 'parent going mad trying to bring their child back' do also go me a little bananas.) I love the kickass shots of Yuya's monsters being set in the pendulum scale.I love Sora's relationship with Yuya and Zuzu. I love every fucked up crazyass expression Yuri makes. I love the sense of character design in this show. I love the Action Duel start chants. I love seeing the Synchro Math again and the Overlay Units and the deeply unsettling fusion hand gesture kids use with Polymerization. I love that third ED thats just the Lancers dicking around in different locations and having fun. I love Declan and Riley's complicated but deeply loving bond. I love when characters RIDE THEIR DUEL MONSTERS!!! AND I LOVE THAT DESPITE EVERYTHING I ALREADY WANNA SEE THESE CHARACTERS AGAIN. THEYRE MY FRIENDS!!!!! THEYRE IN MY BRAIN!!!!! MY KIDSSSSS

I KNOW NOW. WHY PEOPLE TALK ABOUT ARC-V LIKE THAT. AND IM ABOUT TO START TALKIN LIKE THAT TOO. YUGIOHHHHHH!!!!!

#ygo posting #As Is Tradition..... the big lond stupid post i make talking about a yugioh i watched #sorry this one is 4000 WORDS OF RAMBLE ABOUT ARC V??!??! IDK WHAT HAPPENED #HAD A LOT TO SAY I GUESS #im queuing this to post sometime tomorrow morning. godspeed to you all and goodnight. i love yugioh #dana's ygo spinoff roundup retrospective

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