#another one using candy to commit crimes!

[nemisuki]

Just Smile

Idol AU | Attending yet another group signing event has developed into a routine. But what you’re looking forward to most is speaking to your favorite member of the group. And seems like he expects you too. Being a fan since his debut has always been so rewarding.  

᧔o᧓ || katsuki bakugo x f!reader, no manga spoilers, no nsfw, pure fluff, protective bkg, minor jealousy, silly moments, extroverted reader, open to interpretation, can be just platonic or romance, 2.1k word count 

"Next!"

The smile on her face brightens as she approaches the table. Clutching the brown gift bag in her arms as she follows the staff member. A routine she’s gotten used to by now. 

She takes a seat in front of the desk, her gaze landing on the person across from her.

Unable to hide her emotions, she begins to laugh at his facial expression when he sees her.

"What's with the giggles huh?" he rolls his eyes, already grabbing a sharpie and twisting the cap off with expertise. 

"Well hello to you too! And I'm laughing because you look extra grumpy today. Hang in there Bakugo, you still have about an hour left or so!"

"I ain’t grumpy, stupid. Just that a extra gave me a plushie with a damn camera in it, creepy fucks" he mumbles with furrowed brows as he starts signing group merchandise for her.

Obvious disgust in his tone at the whole situation. 

Her eyes soften in a sympathetic gaze at his words, "Gosh I’m sorry about that. But I'm glad you found out quickly, who knows if they put a tracker in it."

"Don't apologize for the freak, we're used to it" he replies with a dismissive wave of his hand, giving her the signed goodies a few seconds later. 

He stares at her as she takes the items with a bright smile, "You know I watched the music video like 100 million times when it first came out a week ago! Your stylist did amazing for the other members, but that jacket you had? Stunning!"

"Hmph piece of shit was hard to dance in though. So…. you gonna hand over whatever is in the bag or what?"

Deciding to tease him a little, she shrugs her shoulders and hums, "Sorry but this isn't for you it's for someone else."

For a split second, she can see surprise take over his face. She could only watch as his facial reactions grow more sour at the implication of her words. 

"The fuck?" he crosses his arms, mentally listing off possible reasons on why she didn't get him anything this time. Unknowing to the bitter facial expression that just took over him.

If it's one thing he's confident in, it's that she'll bring him gifts at every fan signing event.

Sure she always brings the other idols of the group some goodies too but, Y/N always brings him extra.

Because he's her bias.

Of course he’s her favorite.

So what gives?

His red eyes are practically drilling holes in that brown bag she's holding. As if it committed a crime right in front of him.

Seeing a clear sign of jealousy from the blonde, she bursted into laughter and began pulling the items out.

"I'm just teasing, relax! I got you some spicy snacks, and yes before you ask, the spiciest level I could find."

She slides over the assortment of chips and candies towards him. To which he takes and analyzes them, not forgetting to send a mini glare her way due to her little joke.

Despite that, the previous tension in his body seems to fade away.

"Oh guess what! I finally managed to collect every one of your photocards, can you sign my album?" she says, proudly taking out the small book with her prized collection inside.

"Do I even wanna know how much you wasted on all these?" he grumbles, flipping through the pages.

Frankly he is shocked she managed to get them all. He constantly refuses to do such ‘outrageous’ things. But his contract always manages to be used against him. 

He wasn’t one too back down however. 

Hence after many arguments with management, he settled by having his specific photocards become harder to find than any other member. Only releasing a limited amount to the public. 

The blonde takes notice of the small decorations she put throughout the small binder. Stickers and past ticket receipts glued onto some of the pages. Even some confetti from their concerts were stapled on there.

It's the thought of her picking up confetti from the stadium floor that has him stifling a laugh in his hand. His shoulders shaking from hidden amusement.

Her eyes slightly widen in shock, it's not often he's so carefree like this. Especially driven to the point of laughter.

But she's thankful to whatever deity is on her side today.

Before he seemed a bit irritated due to the prior fan experience. At least now he's lightened up.

"Wha- hey don't laugh! I had to fight someone on ebay for the special christmas edition card you know!" she adds on, hoping to prolong his cheerful attitude.

"You're so stupid" he mutters under his small chuckles, finally getting a grip after a few seconds. His neutral expression back on his face, but his relaxed posture says otherwise.

His fingers point to the reason for his good spirits, "Why the hell did you staple these flimsy pieces of confetti in here? The color is starting to fade."

"Oh thattttt, it's from your group's first concert when you debuted! I had to keep something to remember that day!"

As he listens to her words, he flips back to the first page, beginning to sign the album with extra precision. Making sure it looks neat in between the silly decorations. 

She's the first one to achieve the completed album after all.

Y/N was definitely one of his first fans since the group debuted.

It's been years since they met at the group's earliest fan events. Honestly it has gotten to the point where he looks for her in the crowd of every concert and event they host these days.

He knows she'll be there. She always is.

Hell, the girl even made a fan account for him. He even dropped a follow a long time ago. Which to this date, is the only other account outside of his group members, that he follows.

Bakugo can still remember the way she showed up to the fan event the next day, practically bawling her eyes out and thanking him.

Her eyes were so puffy and it was a hilarious sight to him.

Somehow everything she does was unpredictable.

"1 more minute"

The group manager reminds everyone.

Bakugo simply rolls his eyes at the pestering voice nearby. Y/N now pouting at the reminder, "I swear the time gets shorter at every fan event!"

"The more fans, the shorter the time. You know this already."

"Hmph I remember when it used to be 5 minutes not 3!"

He hums in acknowledgment. Today was a rare occasion, usually he’d outright refuse to join the other members in events like these.

Though he doesn't mind the time being shortened, some fans are too much or don't even talk at all.

Too intimidated to speak one on one with him compared to the other members.

Not like he was much of a talker in the first place. 

But Bakugo would be lying if he said he didn't want more time with her specifically, "You're coming to the next concert right?"

"Of course!" she shouts out, giving him a look like he’s crazy for even thinking she wouldn’t go.

He gives her a small nod while grabbing the snacks from earlier. Putting them under his desk to save for later, "What row?" 

"Front row this time~" she says squealing with delight, taking out her phone to show him. 

He looks at her screen as she leans over the desk so he can have a better look. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices his bodyguard tensing, clearly wondering if he should intervene.

The blonde simply lifts his hand up to stop him. To which the guard obeys and stays put. 

His gaze goes back on her phone, taking a mental note of what seat number she was gonna be in, "Best view huh?"

"Mhm gotta film for insta! All your fans want me to do a close up fan cam for the new songs. So do your best!"

"Tch I always do amazing, ya idiot" he huffs in her direction.

"30 seconds"

Y/N's smile returns as she holds up her phone, "Before I go, can I get a photo with you Bakugo? It's for your fans, pretty pleaseeeee?"

He groans at her request, he frequently denies such demands from fans but for her-

"Then open the damn camera already. We don’t have much time" he grumbles towards her.

She giggles at his blunt response and quickly scrolls to open her camera app. Clicking the front facing feature and holding up the phone so they can both fit in the frame.

He doesn't move to pose at all. Just sitting there as he stares at the camera with crossed arms over his chest.

Looking like a statue. 

"Aw c'mon, what's with that stoic look? No smile?" she teases while holding in another laugh.

"You're a damn pain" he says, seemingly annoyed but leaning over the table, much to her surprise.

He is considerably close now, staring at the camera as he sticks out the middle finger.

She takes the photo before she can register his pose, then dramatically gasps, "Bakugo! You'll get in trouble! Do another pose, I can't post that!"

"Tch the fuck else am I supposed to do? I ain't doing no damn peace sign."

"Oh! Here, do this!" she uses her other hand to form half a heart, looking at him expectantly to copy her moves.

He stares at the hand gesture, clearly confused, then copies it while staring at the camera, "the hell is this?"

She puts her hand against his, making a full heart as she shines a bright smile, then snapping pics not a moment later.

He finally seems to notice the shape and gives her a small frown, "You're a piece of shit."

"Pftttt this is why you need to be on social media more, or you wouldn't have fallen for it!" she begins cackling as she looks back at the series of photos. His confused look morphing into one of irritation.  

"Take another one, dumbass!"

"Aghhhh fine fine!"

She cuts him some slack and goes to take another one. Now posing with a small finger heart aimed towards the camera.

He stares at her for a few seconds, seemingly in thought.

Then abruptly, deciding to rest his chin on her shoulder. Looking at the camera with a calm expression.

Y/N clicks the button and snaps the photo.

Frankly a bit shy at his pose selection. 

She didn’t even have time to address it since the fans who'd been seated, already began getting up to rotate to the next idol.

He seems to notice how quiet she got and bites back a knowing grin, lifting his head off her shoulder and ruffling her hair.

Guess she’ll always be a fangirl at heart huh. Despite how long they’ve known each other. 

"I'll see you at the concert then" he mutters in a softer voice, that only a rare few get to hear.

He's not a man of many words at events such as these, but his eyes speak for themselves. Those red eyes are so piercing that she has to look away for a second to register her words.

A bashful smile takes on her face as she nods, "Mhm I'll see you!"

She slowly gets up and waves bye to him before walking away, sitting at the other spot with another one of the members.

His gaze lingers on her for a moment, the sound of approaching footsteps making him snap out of his daydream. 

The group manager speaks from behind, "Bakugo, you already know the rules. You should refrain from touching your fans-"

"Her name is Y/N" the blonde swiftly states, interrupting whatever nonsense the other man was gonna say. 

"And no need to lecture me like I'm a rookie. I never touch fans in the first place” he looks back at the guy with a harsh glare, threatening him to continue.  

"Yes I am aware. But with that girl.."

"She's the exception."

The manager's eyes immediately filled with disbelief, looking at Bakugo for further clarification. He was always a bit softer with that girl in particular. But he never confronted the blonde about it till now. 

Bakugo simply gets his sharpie out for the next approaching fan, seemingly unbothered by his previous statement.

"Oh and don't call her a fan either. She's more than that."

✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ     ⎯⎯ ✦

“-and post!”

A yawn escapes her a few seconds later and she soon decides to call it a night.

She lays down in the comfort of her own bed, resting her head on the plush pillow. Sleeping with a peaceful expression on her face.

Unknowing to the uproar happening on social media.

Katsuki Bakugo was trending online.

The reason? You’re photo with him.

✦ ⎯⎯⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨ masterlist || taglist || intro || socials ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⎯⎯ ✦

a/n ||| This is inspired by my current fixation! Recently I’ve been trying to get into kpop to see what the hype was about. Someone recommended TXT for a beginner like myself so I started binge watching their videos for about 2 weeks now. I’m still a massive newbie tho so I’m unfamiliar with lots of stuff regarding kpop. But all the members seem so sweet omg I already love them hehe (also they’re all so pretty like what the hell are those genetics? I’m jealous asf)

[honeyedmiller]

Midnight Showing

joel miller x f!reader

rating: none

synopsis: you take joel to his first ever midnight movie premiere.

word count: 783

warnings: no outbreak!joel, spoilers for a thirteen year old movie, brief descriptions of a gory (?) scene, fluff. no use of y/n.

a/n: this is my submission for @yxtkiwiyxt ’s never have I ever writing challenge. I got “never have I ever been to a midnight movie premiere” for Joel as the prompt <3

-

NOVEMBER 12, 2012

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Joel grumbles.

You just look back at him and give him a heart-stopping grin, tugging him by his hand intertwined with yours as you walk down the sidewalk toward the movie theater.

Through a silly drunken game of never have I ever a few nights back, you found out that Joel had never been to a midnight movie premiere.

So, naturally, you convince him to join you to see the most anticipated movie of the year: the Twilight saga, Breaking Dawn part two.

You tried to explain the lore of the whole series to Joel while he drove you both to the theater, but to his dismay, he could barely keep up.

You stand in line and to Joel’s surprise, there’s a lot more couples here than he anticipated. He thought it would be a bunch of teenage girls with ‘Team Edward’ or ‘Team Jacob’ on their shirts.

Instead, he found groups of friends excited about the movie, and men looking a little distraught that they’re forced to watch this ‘girlish’ movie with their significant others.

He takes one look at you and his heart cracks open and melts to a puddle on the floor. You’re giddy, and he loves to see you so happy, so going to see this with you is without a doubt in his mind one hundred percent worth it.

Anything to make his girl happy.

You get your tickets and head to the concession counter inside, getting a large popcorn and a couple of boxes of candy with a large cherry icee to share.

You take your seats and cozy up next to Joel, and his curiosity is suddenly piqued.

“So are you team Eddie or team Jason… whatever their names are?”

You laugh at his question and misstatement of their names, but a smirk tugs at your lips as you meet his curious gaze.

“I’m team Charlie and team Carlisle.”

The girl beside you nods vigorously.

“Hell yeah. Amen to that,” she says, and you both share a fit of giggles.

The cogs in Joel’s head are turning, and he’s wracking his brain trying to remember who the hell they are.

He’s about to ask you, but the lights dim and the previews start rolling. Guess he’ll have to find out in a bit.

You can’t help but look over at Joel in the midst of the movie, only to find that he’s just as invested in this as you are. You roll your lips into your mouth to stifle a laugh and turn your head back to the screen.

Then the fight scene comes on. The whole theater is invested with what Alice is trying to show Aro to prove Renesmee’s condition and that the Cullens didn’t commit a crime.

The whole theater is in a frenzy the next minute later when Aro is holding Carlisle’s decapitated head in his hand, and all hell breaks loose on screen.

“That didn’t happen in the book!” Someone shouts.

“What the fuck?!” Another person says, confusion clear as day in their tone.

So many different reactions and horrified gasps are heard throughout the theater, and the thrill of experiencing this with everyone else is unexplainable.

“Holy shit,” you hear Joel say, and you turn to look at him with a stunned expression. Popcorn and candy forgotten, he’s leaning forward in his seat with a concentrated expression, and you watch the fight ensue until Aro’s head is ripped off and burned.

Then everything warps back to Alice proving Bella and Edward’s innocence to Aro, with everyone standing completely still.

Everyone goes nuts in the theater, energy ramped up to a ten as they try to grasp what the hell just happened.

Talk about a fucking insane plot twist.

The rest of the movie plays out, and it’s after two in the morning when everyone leaves the theater completely satiated by how the series ended—heartfelt and bittersweet.

Joel’s arm is wrapped around your shoulder as you two exit the building to walk back to his truck, and you lace your fingers with his.

“Sooo what did you think? How was your first ever midnight movie premiere?”

You see the smile that tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Eh, it was cool. Whatever,” he shrugs, acting nonchalant.

You burst out in laughter, knowing he’s completely full of shit right now and he totally enjoyed himself.

You get to his truck and he opens the passenger door for you, kissing your temple before you climb in.

He pauses before he closes your door with a smug smirk playing at his lips.

“By the way, I’m way better looking than Charlie or Carlisle.”

-

hope you enjoyed <3

[st3f13ily]

EXTRA CREDIT

• Reverse Romance Trope

• Academic rivals but two teachers are competing for the best class.

• English Teacher Itoshi Rin x Math Chaotic Teacher Reader

• Sorry for my disappearance, and I'm also sorry for not posting some Blue Lock High Au for a while, I have some drafts but it needs more editing.

Rin Itoshi hated mornings, but he hated them even more when they began with glitter.

There it was again—sparkling, infuriating, and somehow shaped like a smiley face—stuck to his freshly printed poetry analysis worksheets. It winked up at him like it knew exactly what it was doing. He stood in front of the copier, shoulders squared and jaw tight, staring blankly at the page, wondering at what point in his otherwise meticulously controlled life things had gotten so... stupid.

He lifted the next sheet. Another smiley face. And the next. And the next. All glimmering, obnoxiously cheerful, and completely unprofessional. It was like the ghost of a kindergarten art project had cursed his part of the English department.

He didn't need to check to know who was responsible.

Ms. (L/N) (Y/N), the math department's human equivalent of a sugar rush, had probably used the copier before him and left behind an explosion of joy and chaos. Again.

Rin exhaled slowly through his nose, the corner of his mouth twitching—not in amusement, but in the barely restrained fury of a man who had already dealt with glitter once this week. And it was only Tuesday.

He glanced over at the copier like it had personally betrayed him. A few sparkles clung to the tray, proof of the crime committed. There was even a rogue sequin stuck in the crack of the feed tray. Of course, there was. She'd probably printed her ridiculous fraction bingo cards or whatever it was she passed off as curriculum, leaving behind a trail of sparkle like some kind of budget fairy godmother.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, resisting the urge to crumple the glitter-stamped worksheets and toss them into the recycling bin. But no. He was above that. He was mature. Professional.

This was war.

You on the other hand twirled a dry-erase marker between your fingers, practically bouncing on your toes as your students worked through an activity. It was your favourite lesson: probability through a board game you created yourself, complete with dice, candy rewards, glittery laminated cards, and ridiculous trivia questions. Your classroom was filled with laughter, fake arguments, and occasional screams of victory. One group was in a heated debate about whether Skittles or M&Ms had better odds in the candy round, while another was trying to bribe you for bonus rolls.

Exactly how you liked it.

Your bulletin boards sparkled, the math puns on the walls made even the grumpiest student groan-laugh, and the scent of watermelon-scented markers perfumed the air. The soundtrack of your teaching life was upbeat music, crinkling candy wrappers, and your students yelling things like "PROBABILITY GODDESS! I ROLLED A SIX!"

And then—

The door creaked open.

Rin Itoshi's tall, brooding figure filled the doorway like a looming thundercloud over a birthday party.

He didn't step in. He didn't need to. Just one glare swept through the chaos of your candy-colored classroom like a freeze ray. A few students paused mid-roll. One kid dropped their D20 and whispered, "Oh no. It's him."

"(L/N)." Rin said, voice cool and flat as ever.

You blinked innocently, twirling the marker like a baton. "Yes, Mr. Itoshi?"

He held up a sheet of paper between two fingers like it was contaminated. On it, clear as day, was your glitter-smiley signature watermark—stamped right onto his poetry analysis worksheet.

"You're contaminating shared surfaces." he said, in the same tone one might use to report a toxic spill.

You gasped dramatically, placing a hand over your heart and staggering back a step like he'd just confessed his undying love. "Rin, you've finally admitted we’re sharing things. I’m honoured. Truly."

His jaw clenched. "I mean the copier."

"Semantics," you chirped, unbothered. "Still sharing."

He didn’t even blink. "There's glitter on my handouts. My students were blinded by a smiley face. One of them asked if it was a metaphor."

You pretended to swoon. "Your class is finally developing critical thinking skills. You’re welcome."

There was a pause. A muscle ticked in his cheek.

"You need to be more careful." he said.

You gave him a dazzling smile. "I was careful. I only used the pink glitter. You should see what happens when I use the holographic one."

"Don't."

"Too late." you sing-songed.

His eyes narrowed into slits of academic rage. He turned without another word.

And you?

You grinned like the cat who'd just knocked over the teacher’s coffee mug.

"Have a mathemagical day, Mr. Itoshi Rin!" you called sweetly.

He kept walking.

As he left you now turned to your wide eyes and mouth students. "Alright, so where were we?"

One of them raised their hand. "Yes?" You respond to the girl whose face is full of curiosity.

"Are you two dating?"

"I'm sorry what?"

Their rivalry was infamous among the faculty. Rin, the ever-serious English teacher, ran a class so silent you could hear a pencil drop. The kind of silence that screamed discipline and demanded respect. His students, wide-eyed and reverent, took notes as if their academic futures depended on it—and honestly, they might have. He was a force of sharp glances and precision.

You, on the other hand, were the hurricane that blew down the hallway every morning with a travel mug in one hand and a pile of colourful worksheets in the other. Your math classroom was chaos in the most educational sense—music playing softly in the background, students laughing over group activities, candy being passed around like currency, and posters with memes explaining calculus plastered across every surface. It was loud. Unapologetically so. And you loved it.

It started innocently enough. Simple, professional competition. Who had the better class test scores? Whose students performed better in school-wide competitions? Who got mentioned more in the yearbook superlatives? (You were voted "Most Likely to Start a Flash Mob"; Rin was crowned "Scariest When Angry.")

But slowly, steadily, it escalated. The rivalry evolved into something far pettier. And far more personal.

The tension had been brewing all week, ever since the principal announced Teacher Swap Day—an annual event where two teachers temporarily switched classes for one period to "foster interdisciplinary learning." For most of the staff, it was a fun tradition. For you and Rin, it was a declaration of war.

He was assigned to teach your bubbly, sugar-fueled math class. You were handed his solemn, poetry-loving English students.

Neither of you took it well.

"They're going to eat him alive," you whispered gleefully to your students the morning of the swap.

"Try not to let your emotions show on your face," Rin deadpanned to his class. "Even if the math teacher starts tap dancing."

The bell rang. You adjusted your bright cardigan, grabbed your dry erase markers, and strutted into Room 3B—Rin's domain.

Silence.

Twenty sets of eyes stared back at you, stone-faced. No fidgeting. No chatting. The scent of serious academia hung in the air like a storm cloud.

You grinned. "Alright, you lovely literary scholars. Today, we're doing probability... with dice, candy, and competitive chaos."

A flicker of uncertainty crossed a few faces.

Meanwhile, Rin stepped into your classroom.

A student immediately yelled, "Are you here to take over the world, Mr. Itoshi?"

Another passed him a friendship bracelet. Someone else offered him a Capri Sun.

He stared, dead-eyed. "Today, we're analyzing sonnets. Sit down."

Back in his class, you were trying to break the ice. "Let's say we roll a six-sided die. What's the probability of landing on an even number?"

A student raised a hand. "Miss, will this be graded based on effort or accuracy?"

You blinked. "Uh... Both?"

He nodded seriously and began calculating with textbook precision.

You muttered, "Rin's raised an army of overly competent robots."

Over in your room, Rin stood before a whiteboard covered in doodles, glitter residue, and a quote that said, 'Math is just number poetry.'

He erased it. "No, it isn't."

Your students gave him side-eyes. One brave soul whispered, "Miss (L/N) lets us write poems in the shape of cats."

Rin twitched.

He turned, arms crossed. "You're writing traditional sonnets. Fourteen lines. Iambic pentameter."

Groans echoed.

Meanwhile, you were standing in front of a graph projected on the board, your usual jokes falling flat. The students followed everything with unnerving efficiency.

You paced, muttering under your breath. "Okay, maybe they're not robots. They're just... terrifyingly competent."

In your class, Rin held up a poetry book. "This is 'Ozymandias.' It's about pride, ambition, and the inevitable fall of great empires."

A girl raised her hand. "So like Miss (L/N)'s candy kingdom?"

Rin paused. ".....Exactly like that."

Later, you both slammed the door open at the same time, leaving the class and now meeting at the hallway.

You: "Your students are brilliant, emotionally repressed machines!"

Rin: "Yours are sugar-fueled goblins with a cult-like devotion to you."

You pointed a finger. "Are you jealous they gave me a macaroni art trophy that says 'Best Math Wizard'?"

He pulled out a folded haiku. "Your student wrote this about me. It’s titled 'Grumpy Cat in a Cardigan.'"

He paused.

You looked up, expecting a snarky comment.

Instead, he said, "Your students did well. They were... confident. Happy."

You blinked. "That sounded dangerously like a compliment."

Rin leaned against the table. "It's not a weakness to be liked."

"Are you okay? Did the poetry corner run out of existential dread?”

He almost smiled. Almost.

Then he surprised you again.

"Why do you always try so hard to make it fun?" he asked.

You shrugged. "Because math was scary to me once. I don't want it to be that way for them."

He looked at you, and this time, there was no smirk, no sharp edge. Just quiet understanding.

You blinked. "...Why do you teach, Rin?"

He was silent for a long moment.

"Because I didn't think I had anything to say. But books taught me otherwise. So now I make sure my students always have something to say. Even if they whisper it."

You were quiet then. The rivalry, the teasing, the chaos—it all suddenly felt like a front. Like a weird, overly-decorated mask you both wore because it was easier than admitting the truth.

You respected each other.

Maybe even liked each other.

"You wanna get coffee?" you asked.

Rin blinked. "Now?"

"Sure. We can talk about how I'm going to crush you at the next department challenge."

He rolled his eyes, but he grabbed his coat.

"Fine. But if there's glitter on my coffee, I'm quitting."

You grinned. "No promises."

"I swear I'm gonna crush you, your little mathematics brain is gonna turn traumatic."

"Whatever 🙄"

But you two had one thing in mind: I need to make my class better.

Somewhere down the hall, your student whispered to her friend, who is Rin's student.

"Told you they were in love."

"We should tell our classmates about what happened right now."

"I mean both our sections did team up just to make them love each other, even though our teachers won't admit it."

@pinkymangacaps @levihanmyotp

[nabi-unveiled]

I've picked my jaw up off the floor from the peak makjang messiness of Episode 6 of Secret Relationships.

Conclusion: It's hella fun, but it's not "good".

Yes, there is a difference.

When I talk about "good", I'm typically referencing the more technical aspects of writing, cinematography, acting, etc. In this case, it's the writing committing the majority of our crimes.

Note - the reverse can also be true. There are productions that are technically and narratively excellent that I find dreadfully dull.

I'd rather shows be entertaining and good. But if the choice must be made - I'll choose entertaining every time. This show is definitely that for me. I'm having a blast.

Explaining why I made this conclusion would take longer than I have time-wise at the moment. I'll want to properly organize the evidence. Hopefully, I'll have time Sunday or Monday. (There are some really cool framing shots we could discuss too, but I don't know if I'll go there or not.)

In any case - I'm still here for these messy characters. I love it when things happen that are not on my bingo card. It's still committing fewer narrative crimes than The Boy Next World finale 🙈. (Side note: I still haven't worked up the courage for the ThamePo finale)

Going forward - I really hope they lean into the insanity. That's what this show has going for it in spades.

The two things I'm now contemplating (that are mostly independent of my criticisms of the script itself).

Things to Ponder #1: Da-on and Su-hyeong's kiss.

Facts are - Da-on kissed him. He was actively participating in the kiss. You could argue that Su-hyeong was somewhat forcing him into it, but I DEFINITELY don't see that as true. Why? Because, Da-on isn't passive in this one. He's actively kissing back. We KNOW he'll avoid if he doesn't want it. He does it with Jae-min later in the episode.

I do think it's possible that he wasn't sure if he wanted the kiss or not (just like holding hands with Sung-hyun) and he went with it. He's definitely a character that defaults to going with the flow until he makes a decision. Da-on's the one that stops the kiss when he decides it has went too far, he's feeling bad about Sung-hyun, and he's sure he doesn't want it. When he finally made a decision is when the kiss stopped. Su-hyeon still spent the night, and it doesn't look like he pursued it further. Da-on seems to have slept on the couch.

Frankly, Da-on's a weird character. I personally don't see him as a doormat or meek mouse character. He's making choices that doormats don't typically make. His behavior doesn't match the typical doormat archetype either (particularly with Sung-hyun). However, I couldn't really tell you what other term I'd use for him at the moment. He's a very strange mix of passive and spitfire. He's competent and confident until he's not. He lets things happen to him until he suddenly pulls the brakes. He has a lot of pride (another strike against the doormat). He shares some elements with a "candy girl" character from old k-dramas, but he definitely doesn't share enough of them for me to call him that. I digress.

What is frustrating is that we don't know enough about Da-on to fully understand him and know exactly where he is on this line of participating in the kiss.

Because this dialogue should mean something (beyond him driving Sung-hyun away).

But I don't know what the hell it means. Who did he abandon? Does he feel like he abandoned Jae-min for Su-hyeon? Does he feel like he abandoned Su-hyeon for Jae-min? Were there other parties in the mix over the years? We don't know, because the show is keeping backstory WAY too close to the chest in an attempt at surprising reveals.

My personal head canon at the moment: Da-on and Su-hyeon were having regular makeout sessions even while Su-hyeon was "dating" Jae-min. Su-hyeon agreed not to date him; he didn't agree not to kiss him. That's why Da-on feels like he's a bad person. That's why he scolded Su-hyeon saying that it was going to hurt Jae-min that Su-hyeon was flirting with him on the bleachers/steps. I would love if this were true as it would mean Jae-min had missed something.

Things to Ponder #2 - My pretty-in-pink mastermind stabbing himself.

I find this actor way more attractive than I should in this situation, and I'm still not over his sweater matching the plates. But I now get to ponder...WHY did he stab himself?

Is this because he's lost all control? The chess pieces have been knocked over.

Is it because he's trying to emotionally manipulate Da-on? A type of "leave me and I'll off myself". Because Da-on is obviously still struggling with considering Jae-min ALL bad and cutting ties. Because there is NO good reason for Da-on to still want to talk to him.

Is it because he's trying to threaten Da-on? I'm sure he could make this look like Da-on stabbed him. I know there are a few "villains" that have done that in the past. Most have done it to make the protagonist look bad in front of a crowd though. I'm trying to think of a villain that's used it in private. I feel like there's at least one. I just can't think of it at the moment. In any case, we know this man plays the long game and he plays hardball.

Did I miss some options? Probably. Because I don't trust the writing on this makjang at all. That said - I'm buying popcorn for next week.

[dangermousie]

This scene - where she apologizes for never telling him she used to be a pirate (!) and he says he never told her he got fired from his job so they are even (!!!) broke my heart. They are middle class, middle aged and the rarified world of Blossom protagonists is as far as the moon for them, but this is yet another breathtaking portrayal of compatible marriage and intimate understanding and love and competence tied in.

I am gonna join @purplehanfu and beg tumblr not to sleep on Riverside Code at Qingming Festival which is a total masterpiece - The Longest Day on Chang'an the Middle Class edition.

Ostensibly about a crime committed in the Song Dynasty, this is really a character piece and the characters and the acting are impeccable.

The acting!!! Honestly, the acting!!!! There aren't any idols in this (the closest we get to young eye candy is probably Zhang Yao, who I adore in general (Love In Between is one of the most criminally underrated dramas in the last few years) but he's never really been considered one and here is is utterly deglammed) but this cast is some of the most consistently brilliant acting in even smallest roles I've seen in a while.

But also - the way this world feels lived in and real. And - this is a rarity - it's not about the glamorous and the powerful. ML is a scribe in a judicial office. His wife runs an umbrella making shop. Their biggest dream in life is to save enough money for a small house. Court and its politics are another world to them. Even the bigwigs of this narrative (Zhou Yi Wei, fucking amazing as always) are merely big fish in a small pond. He may command respect in the small marketplace, but he is not hobnobbing with the emperor.

And you get the feeling of small joys and tragedies, the powerlessness of the weak (in the beginning, the whole merchant area lives in fear of a low ranking government bully; a man who mains in eg Blossom would not even allow to wipe their shoes.) You feel realism of limitations within experience (ML will not turn out to be a miraculous fighter), of sudden death and violence lurking under the surface, the warmth of the family bonds, and the way love shows through such practical means.

I LOVE IT I LOVE IT I LOVE IT!!!

[holylulusworld]

Windfall

Summary: You are the last unmarried lady. A spinster.

Pairing: Royal!Stucky x Royal!Reader

Warnings: 30+ reader, modern royal au, old fashioned society when it comes to the age of unmarried women (kinda), polyamorous, throuple marriages are allowed in this world, mentions of rejection, the reader is a loner, bitchy ladies, established mlm relationship,

Square filled for @allcapsbingo: B5: Loneliness

Words: 940+

The ladies sneer when you pass them by. You don’t spare them a glance, aware that they do not like you.

People always fear what they do not understand. Like a woman who wants more in life than being her husband's arm candy.

“I don’t know why she holds her head high like that. She’s the last unmarried daughter. Even her younger sibling and almost every cousin are engaged to a gentleman. The last one will be married soon and the poor soul not getting the chance to marry one of the younger ones will settle for the windfall.”

The other women giggle at Lady Dorothy’s words. “You’re right. No one wants the old spinster. A man wants a young woman, a beautiful innocent blossom. Not a withering rose.”

You don’t take their words to heart. They are not wrong. All the gentlemen roaming your parents' house only came for your sister or the cousins your father took in after their parents passed away.

“Lady Y/N,” you sigh when Lady Sharon makes her way toward you. At least she’s kind enough to talk to you in public. “There you are!”

“My dear,” Lord Loki, Sharon’s husband greets you. He bows and presses a chaste kiss to your hand. He’s one of the few men seeing you as more than an old spinster. Loki appreciates your wit. “How have you been?”

“Fine, Lord Loki,” you reply. Unlike the other ladies in the room, you look him straight in the eyes. You’re not the kind of woman cowering in front of a man only because he has a cock between his legs. “I hope you are well too.”

“Very well,” he smiles at his wife. “My brother finally got engaged.”

“Again,” Sharon adds. “He’s a little fickle when it comes to courting for a woman. He should grow up and settle for one lady.”

“I understand him well,” you nod thoughtfully. “It isn’t easy to find the person you want to spend the rest of your life with. You should choose with your heart and mind.”

You barely escaped the nagging ladies and their gossip. Now you are hiding at the library to read another book. Loki and Sharon wouldn’t mind. They invited you to use their library when you are around and read as many books as you want to.

Nose burying in another book you don’t recognize someone sneaking inside the library.

“Stevie, you look so good today.” Your eyes flit up when you hear voices behind one of the shelves. “I can’t wait to put my hands on you.”

“Buck, we can’t. Not here.”

Frowning you listen closely. There is commotion behind the shelf, and you are sure, the men are up to no good.

You close the book and get up to find out what’s going on. If someone tries to steal Loki’s books, you will stop them at all costs.

Silently sneaking toward the shelf, you practice your speech in your mind. You’re not shy, but two men can be intimidating. Especially when they try to commit a crime.

You round the shelf, stopping in your tracks as you face the men. Your breath hitches in your throat because the men do not try to steal Loki’s books. No. They are kissing each other passionately.

You recognize the men. James Buchanan Barnes and Steven Grant Rogers. You heard rumors about them being in a relationship but never talked to them before.

You swallow thickly. What can you do? Say something? Tell them to not do such a thing at Loki’s library.

The only thing you can do is turn back around and walk toward the armchair to read your book. If you leave the library now, they will know you saw them. If you say something, they will get mad.

So, you sit back down, open your book, and start reading. You can still hear them kiss and moan but try to blend the noises they make out. It’s inappropriate to listen to their lovemaking. Not to mention sinful and forbidden.

You close your eyes and bite your lower lip. Their moans go straight to your lower half, the sacred garden you only touch at night, hidden in your bedroom.

“Aw, Bucky. Look at that pretty angel touching herself for us. Do you think we should help her out?”

Your eyes snap open as you feel eyes on you. You didn’t realize that the book slipped from your fingers and that you bunched up your skirt to slip your hand into your panties.

“I-no. I didn’t,” you lick your dry lips. “I wouldn’t… no. This is a misunderstanding.” You furiously shake your head.

The men watch you move your fingers, smirking as you cannot stop yourself from touching your clit.

“Doll, you are rubbing your sweet pearl for us, huh?” Bucky’s eyes are glued to your spread legs. “Tell me, did you like watching Stevie and me?”

You nod.

“Did it make your petals all wet?” Steve husks. “Did you touch yourself because you wanted us to touch you?”

You nod again.

“Stevie,” Bucky whispers lowly. “Do you know who she is? The angel no one dared to marry. It’s said that she’s a fiery little thing. Untamable and mouthy.”

“I’m not!” You grunt. “How dare you say such a thing!”

“Fiery and naughty, my beloved,” Steve cups his lover’s face to kiss him deeply. He moans into Bucky’s mouth, making you gasp loudly. “I guess she needs two strong pairs of hands to tame her.”

“Indeed,” Bucky smirks. “I bet her father will be so happy when she gets married to not one but two Lords making her an honest woman…”

Tags in reblog.

[akutasoda]

Could I request Gepard with a toymaker s/o who loves making and selling toys to little kids? I can't help but picture them gifting Geppie a plushie of himself.

Also, are you doing well?

made with love

synopsis - the toymaker he adores gift's him a plush with a simple question

includes - gepard

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight pining, wc - 1k

a/n: i am doing well! i hope you are aswell :)

taglist - @teddirika

you had first caught his eye when he was returning from the front lines. he had promised to swing by his sister's workshop and on his way he spotted a new stall not too far away from the florists, it had various bright colours and shapes that he could barely make out from this distance and they intrigued him. much like a child to a candy shop, he started moving toward your stall - his sister's workshop could wait.

the first thing he would notice is the large crowd of people near the stall, all children with their respective carers. the second thing he would notice is the owner of the stall. the bright smile you adorned as you crouched beside a child showing off a toy nearly distracted him from beautiful you were. he watched as you handed the toy to the child before another took intrest in another toy and you happily handed it too them.

he watched you work a bit longer than he thought before remembering he still had to see his sister and so he quickly turned heel and left. he spent some time with serval as she rambled on about her latest invention but he wasn't really listening because all he could think about was you. serval easily noticed her brother's lack of engagement and quickly shut down her rambled and asked him what was keeping him so lost in thought.

he asked her if she had seen the new stall near the florists and she explained you showed up a couple of days ago - that made sense to him as he had

been on the frontline for about a week. he then followed up by asking if she had the chance to talk to you which she obviously said no as she had been cooped up in her workshop. now he really was curious and so he quickly bid his sister farewell.

if you were being honest, you saw the captain of silvermane guards watch you earlier and it intimidated you. it made you think you did something wrong and now you could visibly see him walk towrds you again, making you panic even more. you were one hundred percent sure you had all the right paperwork and permits to be operating on the streets of belobog and you were sure you didn't commit any crimes, so why was he heading over?

gepard had noticed your stall had calmed down a bit and decided to find out who you were and why you plagued his thoughts. he approachhed you rather directly after he thanked another parent for their purchase and he could see you were visibly worried. he opened by telling you that you weren't in any trouble and he was just curious about your stall. you calmed yourself a bit before telling him about how you enjoyed making toys for children and it was a hobby that became a source of income.

he listened to you with absolute admiration. he thought it was absolutely adorable that you had such a passion for what you did and it was this that made you consume his thoughts even more. he eventually (and reluctantly) left, mainly because you had more customers and he wished you well.

eventually gepard had made a visit to your stall apart of his daily rounds - if he wasn't on the front line - and it would take you a while not to panic when he walked over. your customers would also have to get used to the captain's presence but the children never seemed to mind, if anything they proudly showed off your work to him.

one day you had an idea. gepard had become a constant in your daily life that you'd never expect but greatly appreciated and so you wanted to gift him something special, something made by you. you greeted him cheerily when he visited you the following day and immediately told him to close his eyes for a moment, he was going to question you but simply went along with whatever you had planned.

when you told him to open his eyes he was greeted by you happily presenting a handmade plush of yours. he immediately recognised it's likeness and his face exploded into red. he reached one hand out to grab it as the other covered his face and coughing out a very flustered thank you. you nagged him about how he wouldn't be able to appreciate it with his head turned away and eventually he let up.

he had to admit it was beautifully sewn and had a noticeable increase in quality compared to your regular works and that made his heart swoon. what he failed to realise at first was that the plush seemed to be holding something. he saw your smile widen as he picked it out the plushs arms and unfolded it. if his face was red before, it was even worse after reading the contents of the note.

you looked at him for a moment before prompting him for an answer. written on your note was a confession. you had to admit the captain of the silvermane guards was rather handsome and his charming but shy nature made him utterly unresistable, so you had developed a small crush. one that seemed to be reciprocated as your answer was a shy and honest yes.

your plush was a constant reminder to him about your confession, mainly because he was glad you made the leap before he did - he was so nervous that he fearred he wouldn't of done it. he kept it in tip top condition and if anything happened to it he brought it straight to you to fix. and with your new found relationship with gepard, your customers would note how he appeared at your stall more often and even helped you sell the toys sometimes.

he adored each and everyone of your works that you crafted or sewed - always complimenting your work. but truly nothing paled in comparison to the plush that he always had near him.

[ysabelmystic]

Can you elaborate on almost killing a guy?

Yeah sure.

Some of you have heard this story before but this is definitely one of the most unhinged things I've ever done, so I enjoy telling it.

It was my sophomore year of high school. I was living in Florida, and having the time of my life. Both of my parents worked, I had a phone, and I'd made friends with a boy in my neighborhood, and therefore found a suitable chaperone to protect my weak, innocent, girl-self (a depressed egg with messy hair who alternated between oversized hoodies with converse and a trench coat with combat boots) from any potential dangers. This meant that I finally had actual proper freedom to do whatever I wanted as long as I was home by 9pm and kept in touch with my mom. My friend was in a similar situation, having helicopter parents that had been forced to roll back their micromanaging in order to pay the bills. So naturally, when a suspicious car with tinted windows started hanging around outside the bus stop after school and never picked anyone up, my friend and I did not tell our parents. Instead, we would stand outside at the bus stop, chatting and watching the car, until the driver got bored and left.

This went on for a couple of months, almost every day. Unfortunately, my friend and I also had unmedicated ADHD. One day I was carrying home this giant art project -a candy sculpture of St Basil's Cathedral. This break in routine and the fact that the sculpture was edible, melting, and fucking heavy, caused us to completely forget about the car. We went straight back to his place, and the driver did what we'd always feared he would do, and followed us.

We were just digging into the cathedral when my friend's dogs went ballistic. We walked into the entry way to see what they were freaking out about, and saw a sunburnt man with a scraggly beard, blue t-shirt, and cargo shorts walking up the sidewalk, and behind him, was the car with tinted windows.

We made eye contact. We both froze, and then the intruder took off around the side of the house, where the garage entrance was. My friend and I ran to the garage entrance as well because we hadn't locked it when we came inside. A moment after we locked it, the doorknob jiggled violently, and the man began pounding on the door.

This is the point where we should've called the police. But this is Florida. In the garage was my friend's dad's hunting gear, which included several guns, a hatchet, various knives, and a bow, and some arrows. And like an American does in a stand-your-ground state when a man tries to break into your house, we devised a plan to kill him.

This was a relatively calm discussion. We considered using the guns, but we weren't experienced with anything stronger than a BB gun, so in the name of gun safety, we went for the weapons we were experienced with. My friend chose a hatchet and a baseball bat. I took the bow and arrow, which I knew how to use because another friend of mine lived in a rural area, and we liked to climb trees and shoot rubber turkeys like we were Katniss Everdeen or something. The idea was to go outside with our weapons and act super excited to commit our very first murder. Ideally we'd scare him off, but if he continued his attempted assault, then we would kill him. What about his screams? The neighborhood was almost empty because the snowbirds had gone north, and everyone else was at work. The blood on the concrete? Nothing a little peroxide and elbow grease can't fix. To dispose of the body? Our neighborhood didn't have real blocks. Most houses were built around ponds. Where there's water, there are gators, which two burglars had learned a few months prior when they jumped in the water to escape the cops. All the police recovered was a shirt, an arm, and a chunk of a torso. We figured the gators would take care of what we assumed would be the hardest part of this crime. And as for the car? We'd just say how strange it was. We'd never seen it before.

All in all, it was a perfect plan. We'd finally be able to walk home without possibly being followed, we wouldn't go to jail, and most importantly, our parents would never, ever know the danger we were in without their suffocating supervision, and we would be free to roam wherever we pleased.

We took our weapons, went back to the front door, and I prepared a performance worthy of Creepypasta. We ran out onto the sidewalk, smiling, giggling, "Come out, come out wherever you are. I have a bow and arrow. I haven't gotten to use it on a real person before! I want to see what color your blood is when it dries on the sidewalk." Good and proper evil villain serial killer shit. I went all out for this.

We did that for a few minutes, and the man never appeared, so we circled the house, and then went back inside through the back door. When we went back to the entry way, through the window, we saw the man run out onto the front lawn, jump in his car, and speed away.

We never did see that car again, but a few weeks later, my homeroom teacher had the local news playing on the TV. They were covering a story about a man who had kidnapped a woman for ransom. He was caught on the same day, and his mugshot looked very, very, very familiar...

I honestly believe that if the man had decided to confront us, he would not have left the house alive. I also learned a very important lesson; if you act giddy and violent (and make unnecessary eye contact), men will usually leave you the fuck alone. This method has never failed me.

So yeah. That's the story of how my friend and I almost killed a guy. And no, I do not feel bad at all.

[dannybobany]

hello, can you tell us more about cannibalism please? (This is in reference to the shark fin post and your additions about what happens eating human flesh)

Okay sure!

So cannibalism psychologically occurs in one of three scenarios

Survivalist cannibalism

Narcissistic cannibalism

Psychosis triggered cannibalism

The first two are the most common, Survivalist cannibalism is merely a result of situational desperation although interestingly it’s been found that people who engaged in it showed far less apprehension to do it again and less disgust then the average person, which in my opinion implies the aversion humans have towards Cannibalism is social rather then innate, the most famous example of this was the Donner party, a group of American settlers who became stranded in the snow on their way west and were forced to eat their dead until rescue

Narcissistic cannibal’s are something we’re all familiar with but probably don’t realize it, the vast majority of cannibalistic murderers are this type, the most famous example of this is of course Jeffery Dahmer, what most people don’t understand about this case and the cases of most other cannibal serial killers is that the main focus of their crimes usually isn’t the cannibalism itself but rather other acts towards their victims and the killing itself, that’s why these crimes are often done in tandem to sexual ones as the killer in question’s reasoning is centered around power dynamics; their motivation rests within the idea that eating something is the ultimate way to be above it, a sort of food-chain complex

Last but not least there’s Cannibalistic ideation as a symptom of psychosis or other schizoaffective disorders, psychosis is what most people refer to when they talk about “going insane”, it’s a state any particular disturbed person can fall into which causes hallucinations and delusions, the desire to eat human flesh as a symptom while uncommon is not unheard of- in fact there’s several sub-disorders that have been named to define more specific and repeated circumstances

“Windigo psychosis” is one of these specific disorders which has only been observed within Native American communities, it’s thought that cultural context can affect how a persons psychosis manifests, and for Natives of North America within Algonquin speaking regions this particular form of it can occur which includes some amount of cannibalistic ideation as its symptom

(although I’d like to note that in cases of psychosis regardless of circumstances its rather uncommon for the person in question to act upon the thought, it’s a pervasive idea that schizophrenic or psychotic individuals are dangerous due to the frequent violent thoughts which can occur for these individuals, but it must be said that violent crimes are not committed by these people as often as some think, and self harm is far more common in these situations then the harm of others)

With that disclaimer out of the way! Let’s talk about pseudo-cannibalism! That’s not a real term that’s just what I call it, but it’s when a person only consumes a small, specific part of another human or prepares them in a very specific way, these category also includes ritualistic cannibalism and cannibalism as a death rite

Some interesting examples of this include Egyptian mummy candy! The creation of this substance entails the regular mummification process in which a dead body has its organs removed before being sewn back up, but rather then being wrapped in cloth the sarcophagus is filled with honey and left for a long time, in addition the person in question also consumed honey before death to really just be full of honey, this process is referred to as mellification and it’s thought that the substance produced was used as medicine once hardened, although I must stress that mellification is a theory and has not been confirmed to have actually happened in ancient Egypt by archaeologists, still it’s extremely interesting and I wanted to talk about it even if it hasn’t been confirmed as real

Although you know what kind of mummy eating actually did happen? Mummy parties! In Victorian England and America mummies we’re all the rage, people would buy them to keep in their house or host mummy parties which on occasion entailed crushing up bits of the mummy into powder and eating or SNORTING it! Sometimes the powder was even used as paint by combining it with sunflower oil- these practices are unfortunately why we don’t have many mummies anymore

As for cannibalism as a death rite, the practice has been observed in places like Brazil and Peru, and while the practice is essentially retired in the modern day there’s plenty of places that did so in the past

Okay that’s about all I’ve got off the top of my head, I encourage looking into into it yourself though! There’s many interesting things to be learned, additionally I’m not sure how accurate all of my information is, cannibalism is an obscure topic so sometimes stuff gets spread that isn’t true, like mellification and how we aren’t sure if it ever actually happened or not! Hope you enjoyed my ramble though!

[matan4il]

We got a pic of Apo with Ball, a dancer who performed with him in Man Suang. Based on Apo's clothes, it's probably from the same day we saw in the pic shared on Nov 6 and the vid shared Nov 7.

Apo committed the crime of killing the entire fandom by sharing this pic of matching wedding rings. They're set with yellow gems (Apo's fave color), so it feels very much like he's relating this to himself.

This comes not too long after he announced he feels like using Mile's last name...

*laughs in "it's okay, I didn't want my sanity anyway"*

Meanwhile, Mile posted a few pics last night. One of them is of a jazz bar. We know Apo and Mile both like jazz. Last time Mile posted from this place was Oct 7 (he posted a cocktail while there, that he posted again today):

Another pic was of Bangkok's Democracy Monument:

Apo posted the same view exactly a year ago, on Nov 8, 2022:

On the same night, Mile also shared a pic of driving around:

Coincidence? As usual, you decide. Just keep in mind they've said Apo likes to be driven around, and Mile loves to drive. The song Mile was listening to in the car was a romantic one (I Only Care About You), and the vinyl record he shared afterwards was also along the same love theme.

On that same day they also had this Twitter exchange about growing together (since they hit another IG followers milestone):

Okay, one last silly thing. Mile tweeted a pic of this Halloween candy today. He's been posting about getting back in shape recently, so did he eat it? Or did he get it for one candy loving kitten?

(for my daily Kinnporsche/Mileapo posts, click here)

[longitudinalwaveme]

Fictober 2024

Day 7: Follow Me If You Want to Live 

“I hope you aren’t expecting five-star accommodations, Mr. Allen. Maybe the dirty money you were collecting from the Candy Man would’ve let you live out the rest of your life in luxury if you’d managed to escape to the Caribbean, but it’s not going to buy you any special treatment in state prison.” 

Barry Allen wasn’t sure what the most sickly ironic part of this situation was. The fact that it had been his own beloved Iris who had brought attention to the corruption in the police department? The fact that he had been framed for bribery and tampering with evidence by the very young man he had advocated to have hired as a new police scientist? The fact that his crusade for justice as the Flash had created the absences that his crooked cohort had used to cast further suspicion on him? It was a crowded field. 

“But I—” 

“You disgust me, Allen. The only thing worse than a crook is a crook who hides behind a badge,” the guard said. Barry actually agreed with the guard’s general argument—just not that it applied to his specific case. Because, of course, he hadn’t actually committed any of the crimes of which he had been accused. 

“But I’m innocent!” The guard snorted. 

“Sure you are. So’s everyone else in here.” As the guard led Barry along what felt like a never-ending cell block, he could see various prisoners pointing at him and whispering to each other. He couldn’t hear everything that they were saying, but what he could hear left him with the distinct impression that he wasn’t especially popular amongst the prisoners who had seen his trial on the news—which, given how televised it had been, was probably most of them.

Barry swallowed hard. Maybe he should have taken the intake guards up on their offer of solitary after all. Loneliness and boredom couldn’t kill him, but getting jumped and shanked could—and there was only so much he could use his super speed without revealing his secret identity. 

Suddenly, the guard stopped short in front of one of the cells and rapped on the bars with his baton. 

“You’ve got a new cellmate, pal.” 

“Oh, boy. I’m on cloud nine to hear that, really.” Whoever was currently inhabiting the cell was too far away from the bars for Barry to really see him, but his voice definitely sounded familiar. That being said, given the sheer number of criminals he encountered either as the Flash or as police scientist Barry Allen, he imagined that there were probably quite a few convicts in state prison whose voices he would find familiar. 

“The two of you’ll get along great, I’m sure. Now stand back—and don’t try anything funny.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don’t take all day with it. It’s drafty enough in here as is.” The convict’s voice really did sound very familiar, but frustratingly, Barry just couldn’t place it. A few seconds later, the guard unlocked the cell door and slid it open with a loud clang! 

Barry wanted to run away and never stop running, but he couldn’t. Running away at super speed would be as good as telling the whole prison population that the Scarlet Speedster was secretly perpetually-late police scientist Barry Allen, and running away at normal human speed would just get him tackled to the ground and probably sent to solitary. Instead, he took a deep breath and let the guard pull him into the cell. As soon as he was inside, the guard slid the door back into place, producing a loud screech and then another clang!, before locking the cell shut again. 

“Play nice, boys.” With that, the guard started walking back in the direction he and Barry had come from, and Barry started glancing around his cell. 

Four gray walls. One small window. A rather large pin-up of…was that Daphne Dean? It was. Barry supposed he shouldn’t be surprised to find that his cellmate had a crush on her—she was, after all, a famous and beautiful movie star–but it seemed very wrong to see the face of his childhood sweetheart in a place like this. Of course, it wasn’t any less wrong than the fact that he was in a place like—okay, bad train of thought. Focus on your surroundings. That’s less painful. 

Toilet. In a shared cell? How did that work? Did he even want to know? Probably not. Barry liked his privacy, and he was getting the sinking feeling that he wasn’t going to be having very much of it until Iris and Wally managed to prove his innocence and get him out of here.  If they ever got him out of here. No, bad train of thought. Keep your mind on the physical details of your cell. No sense in having an emotional meltdown. 

Okay, what else? Grimy sink. A surprising number of novels—all by Mark Twain, for some reason—-strewn all over the floor. One very rickety-looking bunk bed, that looked like it might collapse in the middle of the night and crush whoever was on the lower level—which, with his luck, would probably be him. 

“Not exactly the Ritz, huh, Crewcut?” At the sound of the very familiar voice, Barry snapped his eyes up to the top bunk, where a slender man with brown skin and wild black hair was lounging casually.

It was official. He had found the crowning irony in the series of cruel ironies that was apparently his life now. 

His new cellmate was the Weather Wizard. 

“You…you’re…” 

“Mark Mardon. But unless you’ve been living under a rock—which I can’t rule out, given that haircut—you probably know me as the Weather Wizard.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be in maximum security?” 

“You’d think so, huh? But no, the warden says that he’s more concerned with keeping the murderers and drug dealers on lockdown than ‘a bunch of guys who play dress up’. It’s embarrassing, really. What’s the point of being a weather-controlling supervillain if nobody takes you seriously?”

 If I ever get out of here, Barry thought, I’m going to have the Flash pay the Warden a visit. If a man who can create tornadoes doesn’t warrant maximum security to keep him from escaping, what in the world does? 

“So, Crewcut, what are you in for?” 

“First of all, my name is Barry Allen, not ‘Crewcut’. And second of all, I’m innocent.” Weather Wizard laughed. 

“Almost everyone says that, Crewcut, but I’ll play along. If you’re innocent, what are you in for not doing?” Barry was almost surprised that the Weather Wizard didn’t already know. 

“Do you not watch the news?” 

“Not unless I’m on it—and I’ve been here for the past seven months. You’re my third cellmate so far.” 

“What happened to the other two?” 

“The first guy—he was a second-storyman, I think—finished his sentence and got released two weeks after I came in. The second guy—he was definitely an arms dealer for Handsome Jack Giacomo—got transferred to solitary after he made the brilliant decision to tell everyone that he had an affair with the boss’s wife. And he was lucky to even make it there—some of Giacomo’s other boys jumped him and stabbed him three times.” 

“Well, if you had watched the news, you would know that I was convicted for dealing heroin out of the back of my laboratory—I’m a police scientist for the CCPD—and for falsifying evidence on behalf of the Candy Man,” Barry said. The Weather Wizard let out a whistle. 

“Well, what do you know? You actually are innocent.” Barry looked up at him in confusion. 

“What makes you say that?” 

“Because if you weren’t innocent, you’d know better than to say you were convicted for being a corrupt cop. The only thing most of the guys in here hate more than a cop is a corrupt cop.” 

“But I’m not a police officer. I may have a badge, but I don’t make arrests.” 

“I hate to rain on your parade, Crewcut, but you work for the CCPD. That makes you a cop.” 

“But there is a difference. While I have nothing but respect for my fellow officers, I’m not a law enforcement official in the same way that they are. The requirements for being a police scientist are different from the requirements for being a police officer. For one thing, you have to have a degree in forensics in order to be a police scientist, which means earning at least a bachelor’s in the field. For another, you spend much less time out in the field—I’m not even authorized to carry a gun in most situations. You see, the primary function of a police scientist is to—” Barry was cut off by another burst of laughter from the Weather Wizard. 

“What do you think this is, Crewcut? Career Day at an elementary school? You are in prison, and the only aspect of your job anyone is going to care about is the part where you work for the CCPD. And trust me, you can’t weather the kind of storm you’ll bring if you keep running your mouth about where you used to work.” 

“Well, what do you expect me to do if someone asks me? Make something up? I’ve always believed that honesty is the best policy, so I’m not a very convincing liar,” Barry replied. It was, in fact, that very inability to lie convincingly that was partially responsible for him having been convicted in the first place. Since he couldn’t tell anyone that he was the Flash, he’d had to make up another alibi for where he had been while the crimes he had been framed for had taken place—and even he had thought that the stories he’d been forced to come up with had sounded very fake indeed.

The Weather Wizard gave Barry a funny look. If he hadn’t known better, he would have said that there was almost a fond expression on the man’s face. 

“I don’t even know if it matters if you’re a good liar or not. If somebody in the prison grapevine knows you’re in for being a corrupt cop—and trust me, somebody knows—- everyone in the prison’ll know by tomorrow morning.” 

“Well, I am supposedly on the Candy Man’s payroll. Maybe that’ll be sufficient to keep me from actually getting attacked,” Barry said. 

“You know, the sad thing is, if you were guilty, you’d probably have a point. The Candy Man looks out for his pawns, if only to make sure that they don’t testify against his operations. But since you’re innocent—well, he’s not going to waste any time trying to protect someone who’s not on his payroll,” the Weather Wizard replied. 

“To be honest, I don’t know if I could have used his name to protect myself anyway. The idea of pretending to work for a drug dealer makes me feel ill.” Weather Wizard gave Barry that strange look again. 

“How long are you supposed to be in here for?” Barry sighed wearily. 

“Ten years. The D.A. wanted to make it longer, but the judge said that because I was a first offender he would be lenient.” The Weather Wizard’s eyes went wide. 

“Ten years for a first offense is lenient? I got six months for mine!” 

“You weren’t convicted of falsifying evidence and dealing drugs in the employ of the biggest crime baron in the city,” Barry pointed out. 

“Yeah, I guess that would be a bit of a step up from going through someone’s unlocked back door, grabbing a few hundred dollars, and then tripping over a lamp and twisting your ankle. I barely managed to get out of the house before I got arrested.” Barry had known that Mark Mardon had been arrested for burglary three times before he became the Weather Wizard, but this was the first time he had heard the specific details of any of the cases. It seemed that he had been an ever more pathetic small-time crook than Barry had initially assumed. 

“How old were you?” 

“When I was arrested the first time? A lot younger than you, that’s for sure. Maybe two months past my eighteenth birthday. The news came as a real disappointment to my parents. I hadn’t contacted them since I ran away at sixteen, and I think they were hoping that I had died,” the Weather Wizard said casually. 

“You think your parents were hoping that you were dead?” Surely not. If Wally ran away, didn’t contact him or Iris for two years, and then showed up again as the result of a burglary arrest, Barry knew that he would be deeply disappointed—but also that he would be absolutely thrilled to know that Wally was at least alive and unhurt. 

“I was a lot less embarrassing to them that way. If I had been dead, they could have just forgotten that they ever had a pathetic failure of a son named Mark. Me dead would have been very convenient. But me being alive and arrested? That was a problem. It meant that they were constantly being reminded of the fact that they had a son who wasn’t a genius scientist with plans to save the world.” 

Barry had never met Dr. Clyde Mardon, but he had known of him by reputation. He really had been a genius—a prodigy who graduated from high school at seventeen and had somehow earned his doctorate in meteorology at twenty-one. His dissertation, which Barry had perused when it was published in one of the most respected meteorological journals, had been on the theoretical principles that could be used to construct a weather-controlling device, and he had barely graduated when LexCorp, Wayne Enterprises, and S.T.A.R. Labs offered to collectively fund his construction of the first prototype. 

Dr. Mardon had also, somewhat notoriously, been something of a hermit. As soon as he graduated college, he moved out to a small cabin on the isolated Big Water Lake and converted it into an observatory. It had been in that observatory that he had started his work on the prototype—and it had also been in that observatory where he had died of congenital heart failure at twenty-three. What no one had known, at least until several weeks later, was that Dr. Mardon’s prototype had been much closer to completion than anyone had thought. It had been so close to being finished, in fact, that his younger brother had been able to get it in working order merely by following the notes that he had left behind. 

Mark Mardon, a cheap crook so desperate to avoid going back to prison that he had jumped off a moving train, had gone into Dr. Mardon’s observatory and found his brother dead. When he came out of the observatory with his brother’s magnum opus, the weather wand, he had become the Weather Wizard. And Barry knew from his extensive experience as the Flash that the Weather Wizard did not like talking about his brother. 

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked. 

“It’s a good question. I shouldn’t be—I don’t need anyone telling the rest of the prison that the Weather Wizard used to be a two-bit wannabe burglar—but you…you remind me of him.” 

“Of who?” 

“My brother. Claudio. If you’ve heard of him—you probably have, actually, you’re a scientist just like he was—you’d know him as Dr. Clyde Mardon. He was a good man. The best one I’ve ever known. A bit of a chump—I mean, really, what did he think LexCorp was going to do once they got their hands on the wand, use it to feed starving orphans?----but a good man. He actually wanted the best for everyone, even his stupid screwup of a brother. You’ve got that same golly-gee-whiz earnestness that he had. It makes me want to smack you, but—-it’s also why I’m going to be watching your back in here.” Barry’s mouth fell open in shock. Who would have ever thought that the Weather Wizard had a sentimental streak? 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean that if anyone wants to mess with you, they’ll have to go through me first. And trust me, nobody’s stupid enough to tangle with a guy who can put a tornado in their guts,” Weather Wizard replied. 

“But you barely know me!” 

And you’ve made a career out of trying to fry me with lightning, not that you know that. 

“Maybe not, but you remind me of my brother—and he died five years ago today. I figure that after I stole his wand, I owe it to him to do one good deed every once in a while. Might as well protect the first person I’ve ever met who’s as earnest and good as he was.” 

“But—” “Do I need to put this in nerd talk or something?” 

“Nerd talk?” The Weather Wizard ignored him.

“Who am I kidding? You’re like Clyde, of course I need to put it in nerd talk. So here you go, Crewcut: Follow me if you want to live.” In spite of himself, Barry actually laughed. 

Who would have ever thought that the Weather Wizard would volunteer himself to keep his greatest enemy safe? 

[buddie-buddie]

as long as you're right here (stay next to me)

2.2k - g - read on ao3

The fireworks show is Buck’s idea. 

Not that Eddie puts up much of a fight once he sees the hopeful glint in Buck’s eye. But still. Buck’s idea. 

“Fireworks?” Eddie asks, passing Buck the stack of plates he’d just pulled out of the dishwasher. He used to like fireworks. It feels like a lifetime ago, but he did. Before he was choppered out of a combat zone with a couple of bullets and some shrapnel beneath his skin. Before he almost bled out on the pavement in the middle of the day and added another couple of scars to his collection. Before sparks rained down in the middle of a parking lot and left Buck’s lifeless body hanging limply from the ladder truck. 

“It’s the Fourth of July,” Buck says by way of reply, putting the plates away before turning back to Eddie. “We have to see fireworks on the Fourth of July.”

It is the Fourth of July after all, and Christopher is sleeping at the Wilsons’ which means Eddie and Buck have the night to themselves. Fireworks might not be the worst idea. Sure, they’d have to go to the ones in the park to avoid running into Christopher and his friends at the pier, lest they commit the ultimate parents-of-a-preteen crime.

But it could be nice. Romantic, even. Eddie can picture it now. Just the two of them, laying side by side in the grass and staring up at the stars, hands intertwined as they wait for the show to begin. Although he doesn’t think there’s anything romantic about his chest tightening and his heart rate ratcheting up as soon as the explosions begin. Nothing screams “romance” quite like his palms sweating and his skin buzzing beneath an onslaught of anxiety.

Any protests Eddie might’ve had die on his tongue when he goes to pass Buck the silverware basket and instead finds himself lost in the sparkle in those beautiful blue eyes. There’s something hopeful there, something that has Eddie setting the basket down on the counter and stepping around the dishwasher door, something that has him snaking his hands around Buck’s waist, something that has him saying, “Okay, baby,” before meeting Buck’s lips in a kiss. 

Eddie understands why Buck wanted to come. It’s… well, it’s kind of perfect. The sun is dipping beneath the horizon, leaving the sky painted in shades of purple that slowly bleed into blue. The balmy air smells like popcorn and Buck’s lips taste like cotton candy, which makes the twenty minutes spent waiting in line for it completely worth it, as far as Eddie's concerned.

There are plenty of other people here, but there’s more than enough room for everyone to spread out and have their space. 

“This is nice,” Eddie says, once they’re settled on the blanket Buck insisted they bring. Buck hums in agreement, leaning his head against Eddie’s shoulder as their fingers tangle together. 

. . .

The first explosion startles them both. There’s plenty of warning, and yet Buck feels Eddie tense beneath him, the muscles in his shoulders coiling tight as the first round of fireworks burst in the sky above them. His own breath hitches in his throat, and he catches himself gripping Eddie’s hand just a little bit tighter. 

Eddie squeezes back almost instantly, without hesitation. It’s the reminder Buck needs that Eddie’s here, that he’s safe. That this won’t be like the last couple of times a similar sound echoed around them. That no one’s going to be left bleeding out in the middle of the street. No one’s going to be dangling lifeless in the air as a driving rain pours down over them. 

“We’re okay,” Eddie murmurs. Somehow, amidst the explosions and cheers and voices around them, Eddie’s quiet assurance rings the loudest. 

“We’re okay,” Buck echoes. He squeezes Eddie’s hand again. 

When the next round is fired off, neither one of them flinches. 

There’s something a little bit surreal about it, living in this moment. It’s the same feeling he has every morning when he wakes up next to Eddie, the same feeling he has every time he packs Christopher’s lunch, every time Eddie announces it’s Buck’s turn to take the trash out. It’s the same rush of warmth beneath his skin, the same flutter of his heart that happens every time they pull up to a red light and Eddie steals a kiss across the center console, every time Eddie texts him from the grocery store and asks if they’re out of eggs.

There’s beauty in the mundane, and even more so in the moments— these moments— that make up a love, a life that Buck simultaneously dreamed of and never thought he’d have. 

He’s never known happiness like this. 

He turns to tell Eddie as much when the first spark hits them. 

It takes a moment for Buck’s brain to realize what’s happening. At first, all that registers is Eddie grabbing him, his arms coming around Buck’s sides as he pulls him into his chest. One of Eddie’s hands is in the middle of his back, the other on the back of his head. He tucks Buck against his chest, holding him as close as he possibly can. And then they’re moving. Rolling, more specifically. There’s a flash of heat, a loud series of pops and sizzles and high pitched whines. 

Someone screams. Someone else does too. And then there’s another round of quick, loud pops. 

And then Buck doesn’t hear anything at all except for the hammering of his own heart. 

Maybe it’s Eddie’s heartbeat he hears. He’s still holding Buck against his chest, still has his own body draped over Buck’s. He’s still blanketing him— still protecting him. 

Buck doesn’t know yet what’s happening. He doesn’t know what it is that Eddie is shielding him from. But he does know that it feels safe here, wrapped up in Eddie’s arms and tucked close into his chest. 

“Buck?” There’s panic creeping into Eddie’s voice. “Hey, look at me.” 

His hands come to bracket Buck’s face, leaning back just enough so they can see each other clearly. 

“You okay?” Eddie asks. 

Buck nods. Part of him wants to look around and figure out what the hell just happened. But a bigger, more insistent part of him can’t tear his eyes away from Eddie’s. They’re wide and searching, filled with fear and concern as they rake over Buck’s face. Buck doesn’t miss the slight tremble in Eddie’s bottom lip, nor the way his breath seems to catch in his throat with each shaky inhale. 

“You’re sure?” Eddie asks, his voice equal parts hopeful and unsteady. 

Buck nods again, and lets Eddie hold his face in his hands and run his thumbs over his cheeks as the panic in his eyes melts into relief. 

“W-What’s going on?” Buck asks, his voice unsteady.  

“Some idiots brought homemade fireworks.” The disgust is thick in Eddie’s voice, each word dripping with disdain. 

A second round explodes nearby and they scramble to get to their feet. Buck stumbles, his foot catching in a stranger’s blanket amidst the chaos. He hits the ground, though Eddie’s quick to haul him up and link their fingers together. People are still screaming, still running, the entire area having descended into madness as the professional fireworks continue firing into the sky.  

Eddie leads the way as they weave through the crowd. His grip on Buck’s hand is steady and unwavering; he doesn’t let go until they’re back at the truck, and even then it’s only long enough for the two of them to climb inside and shut the doors before Eddie’s hands are back on him. This time, they’re running over Buck’s hands, his wrists, the warm skin of his arms left exposed by his arguably too-tight t-shirt. They make their way to his face, pausing in time with the breath that catches in Eddie’s throat. 

“Eddie,” Buck begins. His voice sounds gravelly, like he’s just swallowed sand. He clears his throat and tries again. “Eddie, I’m fine. I— I’m okay.”

. . .

“You’re bleeding,” Eddie says. Voicing the realization doesn’t do much to stop the hammering of his heart, nor the way his breath is coming in bursts so quickly his lungs have started to burn. If anything, it magnifies it. “You’re… you’re bleeding. On your cheek.”

Buck brings his fingers up to his cheek, and Eddie guides them with his own trembling fingers to where the skin across his cheekbone is scraped. It isn’t bleeding heavily, but enough so that Buck’s fingers come back tinged in red. 

“Guess I am,” Buck says, his voice calm in a way that’s almost disarming. 

He’s bleeding because some imbeciles thought it would be fun to set off their own amateur fireworks a few feet away from them, and Buck is calm about it. Not that it matters — Eddie’s got enough rage for the both of them. 

Buck pulls down the sun visor, turning his face away from Eddie’s gentle hold just long enough to check out his scraped up cheek in the small mirror before turning back to face Eddie. “Nothing a little betadine and Neosporin can’t fix.”

“Buck—” Eddie hates the strangled edge to his voice, the way it threatens to break over the single syllable. He hates how scared he sounds, how weak and defeated. He needs to be strong for Buck. He needs to—

“I know,” Buck says, his voice soft and gentle as he brings his hand up to Eddie’s cheek. He runs his thumb over the freckle beneath Eddie’s eye, the same one he makes sure to press a kiss against every night and again every morning. “I was scared too.” 

He leans forward, his forehead resting against Eddie’s. They share a long, deep breath. Eddie’s hands have migrated to Buck’s neck, the steady thrum of his pulse beneath Eddie’s fingers grounding him in ways he’d never be able to describe. Eddie closes his eyes, breathes in the familiar scent of Buck’s shampoo, and thanks God and Jesus and every saint he can name that they made it. That they’re here. That they’re together. 

That they’re okay. 

By the time they get home, Eddie’s calmed down. Around halfway through the drive, his heart no longer felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. His hands were still shaking, mostly due to the adrenaline comedown. Buck had been quick to notice, though, reaching over and taking Eddie’s hand in one of his own.

“How were you so calm?” Eddie had asked, looking over at Buck and admiring the way his eyes sparkled beneath the glow of the streetlights. 

Buck had shrugged. “You had me. I knew it would be okay.” 

Eddie’s eyes shone with tears for the next two blocks.

Their hands are still laced together now, as Eddie leads Buck into the house and towards the bathroom. He pulls out the first aid kit as Buck sits atop the counter, spreading his knees to make room for Eddie to work. 

“I’m sorry,” Buck says after a moment, earning himself a frown from Eddie.

“Sorry?” Eddie echoes, his voice low and quiet as he focuses on getting the lid off of the betadine, but the concern in it perfectly clear all the same. “What for?” 

Buck sighs. Shrugs. Drops his gaze to where his hands grip the countertop on either side of his thighs. “This isn’t supposed to be how we remember tonight.” 

“Nah,” Eddie says simply, pouring the solution onto a gauze pad. “I’m not going to remember this part. Standing in the cotton candy line for twenty minutes because someone has a raging sweet tooth, though…”

Buck scoffs. “Well I’m going to remember you eating half of the cotton candy you insisted you didn’t want.” 

Eddie will remember that too. 

He’ll also remember the way it tasted even better clinging to Buck’s lips. He’ll remember that slow, sweet kiss right as the sun went down. He’ll remember Buck’s head against his shoulder, the way the tension bled out of him and how everything inside of him suddenly settled as their fingers laced together in the overgrown grass. He’ll remember his stolen glance at Buck as the fireworks display started, the way the shadows danced across his face beneath the shades of red and blue that lit the sky.

He’ll remember being together. 

He’ll forget the rest.

. . .

Later, once Eddie’s put the first aid kit back under the sink and eased Buck off the counter— despite his protests that he’s completely fine, baby, I promise — they make their way to bed. It’s there, with Buck tucked into Eddie’s side and his curls brushing the underside of Eddie’s jaw, where Eddie presses a kiss to the top of Buck’s head and murmurs, “That’s not what I’ll remember.” 

“Hmm?” Buck hums, looking up to meet Eddie’s eyes. 

“When I think about tonight,” Eddie says. “I won’t remember giving you first aid on the bathroom counter. Or those godforsaken idiots lighting off a glorified IED.”

Buck grins. “Yeah?” 

“I’ll remember being with you.”

“You will?” 

“And the cotton candy line,” Eddie deadpans. “But mostly being with you. That’s the only thing that matters.”

Buck tips his chin up to meet Eddie for a kiss. And even though this one doesn’t taste like cotton candy, Eddie thinks it still might be the best one he’s ever had.

[shiorimakibawrites]

Idea: The Broken Hearts Club (Daredevil)

These are rough brainstorming notes. Suggestions and other feedback would be very welcome.

Warning: Spoilers for Avengers: Infinity War - Heavy Angst with Eventual Comfort - Smut - Temporary Character Death - Permanent Character Death

The Broken Hearts Club

Matt Murdock / Daredevil x Reader

It is Valentine’s Day and you are feeling morose. Last year, on this day, you had just finished moving in a new place with BOYFRIEND, the sweet doctor you had been dating for a year by that point. You had done it all that – flowers, candy, cards, dinner, and spent the night making love. Then came May and BOYFRIEND, returning from a medical conference in Europe, died when the pilots of his plane were dusted while trying to land the plane. It was not the only loss that terrible day – several LOVED ONES had turned into dust . . . but at least with those, there is a chance (albeit a slim one) that they might come back . . . BOYFRIEND is gone forever.

You have POWERS and training from a MYSTERIOUS PAST but have been living a normal life for years and haven’t exactly maintained those skills. Maybe you hoped that you had put that MYSTERIOUS PAST behind you, that you wouldn’t ever need that training again.

One night, on the way home after work, you stumble across a terrible crime being committed against a teen and you erupted in fury. You didn’t kill the man but you hurt him. It was the first time since the funeral that you had felt something besides soul-deep pain and numbness.

The first vigilante action was impulse but soon you were doing it on purpose. Becoming a vigilante wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism but neither was drinking yourself into stupor or otherwise spending your waking hours in a fog.

About the only other time you didn’t feel numb was when you encountered Daredevil. He was the only one who understood your rage, the need to do something – to save someone even if you could not save the ones you loved. Not that this means that your interactions were always positive.

Especially in the beginning of your relationship with your fellow vigilante, Daredevil was an asshole. You tried to ignore him but you ended up losing your temper and did your best to kick his ass. You blown some of the dust off your old skills but you aren’t as good as you used to be – and Daredevil is very good with the advantage that his combat skills have not been laying dormant for years. So the fight could have gone better. You didn’t exactly lose that fight but you didn’t win either.

Your relationship got better after something happens and you ended up telling him why you were doing this. Probably not a peaceful conservation since you are both rather hostile to each other at that point. Either you or Daredevil or both is too injured to physically fight so you were verbally arguing.

The reason for Daredevil’s terrible attitude is loss – apparently everyone who mattered to him was dusted and only a couple of months after reconciling with them after some kind of falling out.

You cannot help sympathizing with that but still won’t take his shit. You are hurting too and you manage not to be a complete ass to everyone.

But your encounters are more productive afterward – your fights become more sparring than an actual fights.

Today was never going to a fun day – it was Valentine’s Day and it seemed like everywhere you looked, there were happy couples . . . but then the day got worse. You were looking for something in the kitchen and found a small box hidden in the back of a seldom used cupboard or appliance . . . a box with a ring in it. An engagement ring.

You threw on your vigilante suit and ran out, you couldn’t stand to be there for another minute . . .

You don’t know why your feet brought you to this particular roof – the one above an old gym called Fogwell’s. The place where sometimes you and Daredevil spar. Daredevil is either there or arrives shortly after.

It might start out as more of another spar but the next you know, you were kissing and pulling off all your clothes except for the masks and maybe your shirts to avoid knocking off the masks.

You have sex –it’s rough, intense, but also some of the best sex you’ve ever had . . .

Afterward, you both agree that sex was like the sparring – a way to let off steam. A bit of comfort, a bit of pleasure that both of you desperately need. But you aren’t dating. It is strictly a friends acquaintances with benefits situation.

For a while, it seems like that is going to be the way of things. You meet. Sometimes you spar. Sometimes you have sex. Sometimes you do both. Daredevil is a considerate lover, never solely satisfying himself while ignoring your pleasure.

But there are cracks – moments where you or he flirts. Or shares something personal about yourselves. Moments where the sex turns toward something more tender . . .

Feelings start to develop – feelings that both of you fight against but it’s like gravity. You cannot escape it.

Not entirely sure how your identities get revealed:

(1) You need a lawyer and pick Matt largely at random or because he had represented people like Jessica Jones before.

(2) You are lawyer or a paralegal looking for a new job – Matt was advertising, having realized that he needs help without Foggy or Karen there to help . . .

(3) You both come to the same coffee shop one morning.

Regardless – You know that mouth, that ass, that voice . . . He knows that heartbeat, that voice, he can smell himself on you . . .

[crusherthedoctor]

Hot take: humanizing a villain =/= giving him sympathetic traits. One of my favorite ways the games have humanized Eggman is by giving him a love for amusement parks. We can headcanon all the reasons why he enjoys them so much (and I like that one page in IDW where he says "If I want my enemies' last moments to be carousel music and the smell of petroleum-based cotton candy, that's what I'll make happen", that's a nice explanation), but at the end of the day, it's just a silly cute trait that tells us Eggman is a joyous manchild who is having a blast in his quest for world domination. Doesn't erase his various war crimes :P but he feels more rounded (hehe) as a character.

Strongly agree | Agree | Neutral | Disagree | Strongly disagree

Said it time and time again: some of the most widely beloved villains throughout all forms of fiction - video games, movies, comics, anime, you name it - have little-to-no sympathetic qualities or moral standards, and a big reason for why they become favourites anyway (aside from how enjoyable they are in their blatant villainy) is because they manage to be fascinating or nuanced in other ways. You can have a villain who is openly evil, proud of being openly evil, and kicks dogs every minute for the lulz, but what's stopping you from giving them a history? What's stopping you from going full character study and delving into how they work their evil magic, and in what specific ways they affect other characters? Sorry to bring up the Paper Mario fic again, but part of the fun I've been having with crafting it is the specific layers of just how Eggman decides to make things needlessly personal with the heroes.

The persistent schoolboy error that writers and fans frequently commit - especially in Eggman's case, much to my eternal grief - is the assumption and YouTube essays claiming that making a villain overtly tragic, or giving them some moral line that they won't cross, is the only possible way you can flesh them out. As you pointed out with your example, villains who are loud and proud about their evil ways can still have other sides of them explored, even if none of it actually softens or redeems them per say. You can give a villain admirable qualities that have nothing to do with their (lack of) morals, such as making them a good planner. Indeed, Eggman already has that and a bunch of other "good" qualities, such as being creative, showing fearlessness, and never giving up, among others. None of it detracts from his certified dipshit and furry executioner status.

And not to be one of those "does fiction affect reality???" goobers, but let's face it: putting the fantastical elements aside, people who don't need a reason to do bad shit do exist in real life. I'm not saying that as a nihilistic doomposter (on the contrary, I hate that shit), but what I mean is, painting every single villain as not-so-bad or just slightly grey is not a very helpful perspective. It's better to acknowledge that people with criminal activity on their hands come in all shapes and sizes, including motive: for every example who has a tragic past, there's another example who did it for the thrill.

[thomas-harris]

Idk much on your au

But

What are the key differences between au Mona and cannon Mona?

ENG

There are key differences in the characters and their lifestyles, but they are not too radical. In my AU, Mona is not a villain or a psychopath, but rather a poor artist trying to survive by making and selling commissioned paintings. Her fate turned tragic, but not by her own fault. She hasn't committed any crimes, hasn't killed anyone, and hasn't harmed anyone. However, she became a victim of a cruel kidnapping, planned by Thomas and carried out by Bill.

Thomas suggested the idea of kidnapping Mona, believing that such a girl would be useful to them, as she could draw and therefore be involved in their sinister activities. Bill, in turn, carried out the plan. It all happened during one of his night patrols when he "coincidentally" met Mona on the street (in reality, this wasn’t a coincidence — he had been spying on her for half the day). Using his status as a police officer, he convinced her that he wanted to help and offered her a ride, saying something like, "It's not safe for a women to be walking on the street at night." Unaware of his true intentions, she got in the car, and from that moment, her life turned into a nightmare.

After the kidnapping, Mona was forced to draw pictures of their victims, using her talent for their purposes. She did this against her will, but refusal only meant more torture. Every day became a struggle for survival: she was regularly beaten, abused, sexually harassed, and subjected to many other terrible cruelties. This broke her, but despite everything she went through, she didn't lose her humanity and inner strength.

Another important difference concerns her environment. In the original AU, for example, Mona is connected to Bill, with whom she has an extremely toxic and unhealthy relationship filled with manipulation and violence. In my version, however, she has Fred — a person who genuinely cares about her and has become her support. They live together and build a normal relationship based on mutual respect, support, and trust. With Fred, Mona feels much more confident and safe. She can be herself without fearing relationship problems.

Additionally, unlike the original character, my Mona does not use drugs and has never planned to do so. She consciously avoids anything that could harm her mental and physical health, as she knows all too well what the loss of control can lead to. However, she has one harmless weakness — mint candies. They have become a form of comfort for her, helping her cope with stress and reminding her of calmer moments in life.

I hope everything was clear to you, and if not, you can ask more questions :3

RUS

Ключевые отличия в характерах персонажей и их образе жизни есть, но они не слишком радикальные. В моей АУ Мона — не злодейка и не маньяк, а всего лишь бедная художница, которая пытается выжить, зарабатывая на жизнь созданием и продажей картин на заказ. Ее судьба сложилась трагически, но не по ее вине. Она не совершала преступлений, не убивала и не причиняла вреда людям. Однако она оказалась жертвой жестокого похищения, спланированного Томасом и осуществленного Биллом.

Томас предложил идею похищения Моны, посчитав, что такая девушка будет им полезна, ведь она умеет рисовать, а значит, может быть задействована в их зловещих делах. Билл, в свою очередь, реализовал этот план. Все произошло во время одного из его ночных патрулей, когда он случайно встретил Мону на улице (на самом деле, это не было случайностью — он шпионил за ней половину дня). Пользуясь своим статусом полицейского, он убедил ее, что хочет помочь, и предложил подвезти, сказав что-то вроде: «Негоже девушке ночью по улице идти, опасно же». Она, ничего не подозревая, села в машину, после чего ее жизнь превратилась в кошмар.

После похищения Мону заставляли рисовать изображения их жертв, используя ее талант в своих целях. Она делала это не по своей воле, но отказ означал лишь новые пытки. Каждый день для нее превращался в борьбу за выживание: она подвергалась регулярным избиениям, жестокому обращению, сексуальному домогательству и множеству других ужасных издевательств. Это сломило ее, но, несмотря на все пережитое, она не потеряла человечность и внутреннюю силу.

Еще одно важное отличие касается ее окружения. В оригинальной АУ, например, Мона связана с Биллом, с которым у нее крайне токсичные и неадекватные отношения, наполненные манипуляциями и насилием. В моей же версии у нее есть Фрэд — человек, который искренне заботится о ней и стал для нее опорой. Они живут вместе, строят нормальные отношения, основанные на взаимном уважении, поддержке и доверии. С Фрэдом Мона чувствует себя гораздо увереннее и безопаснее. Она может быть собой, не опасаясь проблем в отношениях.

Кроме того, в отличие от оригинального персонажа, моя Мона не употребляет наркотики и никогда не планировала этого делать. Она осознанно избегает всего, что может нанести вред ее психике и здоровью, так как слишком хорошо знает, к чему приводит потеря контроля над собой. Однако у нее есть одна безобидная слабость — мятные конфеты. Они стали для нее чем-то вроде утешения и способом справляться со стрессом, напоминающим о спокойных моментах в жизни.

Надеюсь, всё было понятно, а если нет — ты можешь задать еще вопросы :3

[silver-the-pendejo]

Prologue

Words: 1477

A fic based on my friends and mua ramble's about getting isekai'd in Linked Universe

Rewriten after the 2022 version of Chained Hivemind ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The Hivemind was chilling on call, having decided to watch one of the dear boomers of the server play Mad Father, which was fun, if you ignored the other chaos that was both happening in the VC and the can’t-voice chat, but hey, for now, things were going fine and no crimes were being committed (yet.)

Well, things stopped going fine suddenly, because from one moment to another, Candy’s voice stopped being heard on the VC, the same could be said for everyone else, suddenly, Shaunti, Cuckie, Bean, Li, Chill, Nilo, Fruit, and Puddle were no longer talking on vc, their profiles off on the call, and then Raijin, Cosmo, Bestie, Honey, Rosie and Silver stopped writing on the chat. The only thing each of them was feeling at the moment was something pulling at their chest and the sudden feeling of passing out, and now, their rooms were void of their presence, only the devices they were using moments before could be found now.

Suddenly this common but not so common group of friends appeared in the sky, somewhere, unfortunately not in a place where the fall would be nice, more like a place where the fall would kill them, but hey, at least if they died it wasn’t gonna hurt much, right?. But for now, once they all noticed the air, it was when the screaming started.

“WHAT THE!!!!”

“WUUAUHAHUHAUHAUUAHU!!” 

“BESTIE WHAT??!!!” 

“VALIMOS CHETO, AHÍ TE VOY SAN PEDROOO” 

“SILVER CALLATE NO VAMOS A MORIR” 

“WHY ARE WE SCREAMING!!” 

“I WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE A MAIN CHARACTER!!" 

“I BELIEVE I CAN FLY  BUT I AIN'T GOT WINGS!” 

“............” 

“BOYAAAAAHHHHHHH” 

“YEEEEEHAWWWWW” 

“THIS IS WHY YOU DON’T SLEEEP EARLY!!!!” 

“THIS IS WARRIOR’S FAULT” 

“I'M TOO YOUNG FOR THIS” 

“GOOD JOB HONEY YA JINXED YOURSELF” 

“I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE OUT, WHY IM OUT?!??” 

“MEEEAAAAATTTTT!!!!

Now that they were close to the floor, they could see where they would fall, and since the Universe hated them, they ended up in a Lake since the gods also hated them, they were no less than 20 meters from falling through a waterfall, that would most probably kill them since most of them did not have the strength or the appropriate clothes at the (hey their clothes got changed with magic les go!) nevermind, they only didn’t have the strength to swim away from the waterfall.

"I'm gonna die." Bestie tried their best to keep their head above the water, but with so strong the currents were, they decided to just pull themselves closer to Bean and began using them as a lifesaver.

 "I think Shaunti fainted you guys." Fruit was trying to help, but as one of the youngest of the server, they couldn’t do much at the moment, except try to not drown.

"My dog paddle will not save me from this." Cosmo was able to say before ending underwater, Candy having to come to their aid and help them keep themselves from drowning.

Most of this didn’t work since most of the group ended up underwater. Meanwhile, a certain group of heroes saw the group fall into the water and also saw them struggle to try and stay away from the waterfall. Most of the Heroes were surprised at that except Time and Twilight, who looked way too calm at seeing the group, but the others didn’t question it assuming they were trying to see how to help this group of strangers.

“So are we going to help them or….?” Sky said, still a little stunned about what was happening in front of him, not knowing what logical explanation could well explain what was happening.

“As strange as this is, we should Sky, except those two, they look like they are already safe” Warriors pointed close to them, to what looked to be two of the people of that peculiar group, both of them having black hair, one having it long and in a ponytail, the other one so short it barely covered their ears.

“Well we better go help them before any of their friends die” Calamity started to walk towards them, the rest of the group following suit behind him, stopping suddenly once they heard one of them talk.

“Rosie don't you dare your Mexican ass to die, who will help me beat the shit out of Ko otherwise” Silver whaled, his hands gripping onto Rosie’s clothes, shaking them and trying to wake them up, meanwhile Rosie looked pale and barely breathing.

“What?” Wind let out the question out loud, making the group gain the attention of Silver, who stopped shaking Rosie and tried to hide his friend behind him, while also trying to look intimidating towards the newcomers.

“One more step towards us and I will find a way to leave you all without balls” Silver muttered, his grip on Rosie tightening, while still staring towards the chain.

Legend rolled his eyes at that, walking away from them and going towards the water, deciding to help the ones that were drowning instead of dealing with what he thought to be a very sassy gremlin, the others followed behind him, only Time and Calamity staying behind to help the two black haired humans. Twilight looked especially distressed like he was looking for someone.

“It's fine we are here to help you,” Time said, trying not to set off Silver, who had decided to look towards their friends, seeing how Fruit was close to drowning, considering that they were barely floating while grabbing Shaunti, who was still passed out.

—-----—--------------------------------

“So you are saying that your group was doing something together, then suddenly passed out and when a lot of you woke up, you were falling from the sky?” Legend looked at Candy with mistrust, not believing the words of the girl, she looked like she was hiding something (she was but it was none of his business)

"I know that sounds hard to believe but it's true. You saw us fall from the fucking sky did you not?" Candy looked at Legend and Time because they were the ones to ask her the questions.

“You can believe what you want, but falling from the fucking sky wasn’t funny and then falling into freezing water was less funny, but I stand by what I said and ur fucking opinion couldn’t be less important to me” Candy looked like she was fuming, glaring slightly at Legend and then looking back at her arms, where she was trying to dry Fruit, that was half sleep and sneezing a lot.

Legend gave the glare back, ignoring the side eye that Time was giving him because of how rude he was being, his gaze left the pink-eyed girl and went towards the others that were dispersed around the camp, everyone in what appeared to be their own little world.

Twilight was fussing over a girl that was called Shaunti (if he remembered correctly), which was honestly strange for him, considering he rarely got near any girls, Legend didn’t linger a lot in that and continued looking at the others.

Wild was preparing food with someone called Raijin, while First and Chill were near them, talking to each other and laughing a bit at whatever they were saying to each other.

The Vet just rolled his eyes and looked over where the rest of the outlander's group and the chain were, each of them in their little groups and doing things.

Wind was pestering Cloud and Honey, asking them a lot of questions about where they came from, and other things, also clinging to Nilo’s arm, swinging it around a bit, trying to annoy the older one.

Other persons of the group, Puddle, Cuckie, and Cosmo, if he recalled, were together, the two first trying to wake up Cosmo since they passed out after almost drowning.

Li, Bestie, and Bean were with Hyrule, checking the injuries the first 3 had since they had gotten a bit violent in the water while trying to save each other, so Hyrule wanted to make sure they didn’t have any lasting injuries.

Legend realized the other members of that peculiar friend group were giving the cold shoulder to one of their friends. The guy also looked uncomfortable, not daring to meet the eyes of the other almost as if he knew they were going to do something to him (not that Legend cared, he didn’t even know that guy's name). 

And finally, the one that had screamed and threatened them, Silver was with Rosie, giving the other nasty loose when they suggested they should take a break instead of being so protective over Rosie, Calamity was near them, checking they were fine from time to time.

Legend let out a sigh, already knowing that the others wouldn't want to leave this group alone and that he could say bye to the few calm moments the chain had.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

AND CHAINED HIVEMIND IS BACK ON TUMBLLLR It feel's so nice ngl, considering I loved writing this in 2022 and now rewoerking it on 2025, since im also old enough to steal a Link for me -smooches Calamity-, anyways this shit has timeloop's and lore so expect me to explain that, later. As always ask's and request's are open, BYEEEE