#it's kind of heart wrenching but that depends on who you are

[gotham-daydreams]

Y'all get ur paper tissues and keep em W you at all times. I don't think ıts gonna end good for us,,

:]

Though it depends if some of y'all don't take certain confrontations very well, and a whole "you messed me up" type of admissions that have a pathetic/shity excuse given. As well as just uncomfortable situations in general.

Oh! And crying, but not like- the sobbing kind. The kind of crying that makes you feels stupid for crying in the first place. That kind of stuff! :D

[omgthatdress]

special thanks to all my followers who have stuck with me through the "fundraiser asks are bots & scammers" mess. My post did indeed piss quite a few people off but the response has been 90% positive, with a lot of people being relieved of the massive anxiety those asks were causing them (another huge thing that I hate about them is how they feed on people's mental health issues, esp. those with hyperfixations/anxiety on doing good and morality)

For the people who are getting really big mad at me it's like "tell me you got scammed without telling me you got scammed," which is a lot harder for some people to accept than you would think.

Also for those who still insist the asks aren't bots, I made my post with a big opening statement that I readily delete and report any fundraiser ask in my ask box, tagged it "Palestine" and "Palestinian," and the number of asks I got in my box literally quadrupled the next day. They are targeting people who are blogging on the issue because that's what bots do. Classic bot behavior.

If you have fallen for a fundraiser ask bot, don't hate yourself too much. Everyone on Tumblr has fallen for a charity scam at least once, including me. Those things are fucking heart-wrenching and convincing and hard to ignore. The important thing is that once you have the scam explained to you, you accept that you've been scammed and don't double down and insist what's obviously a bot is a real suffering Palestinian without any real proof. That's when you turn into an asshole.

Some people are like "I'd rather give to a thousand scammers than put a Palestinian family at risk!" and...... yeah you realize that's bad, right? The money that could actually be out there saving people's lives is instead going to an unknown criminal of unknown origins. For all we know, these bots could be funding Zionist settlers driving people in the West Bank out of their homes. (I AM NOT claiming this as a fact, merely illustrating that we don't fucking know. pissing on the poor, etc.)

And.... well some people really are a special kind of dumb and when you're really fucking stubborn about how dumb and naive you are I'd say fuck it, you deserve to lose your money, but no. People's lives are actually at stake and that money needs to go to the people who actually depend on it, and that makes me angry.

YES these bots are harmful and YES they need to be removed from Tumblr. Delete and report any that you get.

[kanmom51]

Missing Jikook today

Not that I don't miss them every single day, but just saying...

@wonsummernight Miss your edits!!!!!! I know there isn't any new Jikook content just yet, but if there was a time we were in dire need for some heart wrenching Jikook edits, this is it!!!

Basically, this is me telling you "PLEASE COME BACK". 💜💜

So, I came today to cry a little, you know commiserating together with others takes the edge off a bit (note to self: keep telling yourself that, and you might start believing it too...), but also to remind y'all that SM is crap, a viper pit, a cec pool, where all the miserably unhappy ignorant assholes tend to flock to (this is about the assholes that have turned sm into such a place), either to create drama that will get them some much needed attention they aren't getting elsewhere, or to create a parallel universe where their dreams and wants come true, even if they have zero standing in reality. Oh, and I forgot those that are there to make some hard cash, by all means.

And why am I mentioning all of this, you may ask?

Well, because for some reason my hopes and dreams for a fandom cleanse are being shattered as we speak.

As you may already know, I've taken a step back lately. mainly distancing myself from SM, as it's been going downhill for ages now, but has become an even uglier place to visit in the past few months, I'd say ever since it's been known that JK and JM are enlisting TOGETHER and will be serving TOGETHER, basically being in each other's close vicinity 24/7 for 18 months (even if not sharing exact same duties within the unit) and spending off time together . And to clarify once again: Same unit, same posting (base), different duties within the unit.

You'd think that 3 months in, and after the initial shock, reality and truth would set in (even with the most delusional) that these two young men CHOSE to enlist together (free choice and steps taken by both of them to achieve this). And once again me reminding they are the only ones in the group to decide they want to do this and the only idols to ever do so.

But no. Who am I kidding? Probably wishful thinking on my part. You know, that these people will either wake up, smell the roses and just cope with reality, or plain and simply piss off (that's probably me being delusional at this point).

Point being, it's gotten even worse. Like who would have believed that would happen? Yeah, probably should have seen it coming though. When you have cult behavior, when you have those that profit off it (monetarily or otherwise), I should have known it would go this way. The need to dive even deeper into the filth of this earth, to create even dumber narratives, to, of course, spew even more hate towards either of them (depending what delusional team you are on).

Should have seen it all coming.

Sadly, instead of just leaving, tail between their legs, they are doubling down on their utterly delusional beliefs regarding these young men. Not without pain, I may add. Pain, that a small part of me, someone that tries very hard to be nice and good and positive, is now relishing (I lie... not that mall of a part after all). Their twists and turns, their made up shit to compensate for whatever shit JK, JM or Tae are throwing their way... kind of priceless. I mean, if they aren't going anywhere, should we not at least enjoy their demise?

Does that make me a bad person?

Honestly, I don't think so.

And Jikook being away from most of this, lighting the fire and walking away leaving their haters behind to burn, was a nice touch.

Now we just sit here silently wait for our little travel show...

💜💜

[lovra974]

Slow burn

Bakugo and relationship, it's only fluff, somewhere on the ace spectrum.

Bakugo isn't one for irrational actions. In his hero work, he learned to think fast. In his personal life, he was a casual kind of guy. Didn't mean he was not passionate, passion and determination were core values for him. He knew now he showed love through act of service and quality time.

He readed a lot of romance. Like a lot. But he never felt overwhelmed. He has very strong feelings, it's part of who he is. But the bubbling mind, the butterflies, the flushed cheeks every two minutes, he never felt. But still, it didn't mean he had not strong feelings.

He would shake the hell out of Deku if he told him he felt like a bad hero. He would do the groceries for his parents or with his father every few weeks. He would, without a second of hesitation take a bullet for that damn idiot with shitty hair.

His love life was quite desert for a long time. It was not his priority after all. But when he began to date, he waited the feelings to wash over him. It didn't.

He was interested, he felt comfortable, he felt better definitely but nothing about the craving, the addiction of the other. It destroyed most of his romantic relationship when they would inevitably ask "How much do you love me?" and none of the truths sounded like the good answer. He never lied.

He mets you and bounded slowly with you. Your relationship was how he liked it, casual. The friendship deepen each time he saw you. Until someone would ask him if there was something between the two of you and point out how much like a couple you acted.

Yes, you spoke every day. And you invited the other over every week. Yes you had a serie you watch together and together only. Indeed, you planned your calendar depending on the other. Yes... he missed you when he couldn't saw you but he was fine !

It bothered him. He didn't like when people put their nose in his business. He felt confortable with you. You supported each other. Was the butterflies really needed ?

Did you really need to put a label on ?

Kirishima questioned him to know if he was okay that someone ask you out.

"Why would they say yes ?"

"You know... Maybe they want to date, to have a life partner?"

This kept Bakugo thinking at night. Did you you really want that? And him, what did he want ?

He didn't want you to leave him. Really, he couldn't imagine his life without you in it. Would you go to someone's place and watch series ? Would you planned dates and go to your parents with them ? Would you cuddle with them at night, a smile on your face and safety in your heart ?

He wanted that domesticity with you, only you, if you wanted him too. Just like you were doing.

He felt pretty possessive toward you and it made him feel strange. He really was not used to it.

Through the days, his thoughts grew. It became good to think about you like that. It woke a yearning he did not anticipate. But the fear, the possibility of getting rejected, of destroying the balance you've built. It was gut wrenching.

"So, what are we watching?" you asked, the remote pointed toward the television.

He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants before sitting next to you, tense.

"Don't know."

"Mmh... What about that one?"

He nodded without watching. You looked at his far away eyes, noticing his posture on the couch.

"Hey, you're okay?"

"Yeah, why ?"

"Oh, come on ! I asked if you wanted to watch a documentary without heroes in it and you said yes !"

You got closer, your warmth washing over him and soothing his nerves. He sighed.

"What do you think about dating ?"

He grimaced once he said the sentence. But you didn't laugh. It was a good point.

"What do you mean, what do I think about dating ?"

"Do you think it's a good thing ? Do you want it ?"

He was getting frustrated, thankfully you knew him well.

"I think it's a good thing only if you want it. If you think it will make you happy then yes it's a good thing."

"And do you want to date someone?"

You took your time to think.

"Honestly, aren't we? If you're not comfortable with the label I'm okay to keep it like that."

"Wait... You're saying... You want to-to date me ?"

You smiled, loving his disbelieved face. You got even closer.

"I said it was a good thing only if you wanted it too. Do you want it ?"

His eyes went down to your lips. You pecked his once, testing the waters. You knew he needed time with PDA. He did it a few second after, trying to gauge if he liked it. You were soft, pliant against him. You let him kiss you, slowly at first, learning how you liked to get kissed.

There was no butterfly in his stomach. But he felt relief in his bones. The kiss became more intense, and Bakugo decided he liked it. He liked how you felt against him. He liked the safety and warmth you wrapped him in.

This was more precious than the addiction he heard about.

"I've got you Katsuki, whatever this is I'm okay with it as long as your okay too."

[sugar-plum-writer]

"It's just the beginning darling"

Paring: Sukuna the king of curses! x fem!reader; Sukuna in Yujis Body Tags: Sukuna!imagines; Sukuna!being obsessive; slight!NSFW; slight!gore; mostly it's obsession enjoy~

Sukuna is cold, ruthless, and unpredictable, everything depends on his pleasure and displeasure. For such a man to exist, it's a miracle not more people are dead. Being the King of Curses, the strongest, being above the mere humans that totter about their day.

Just a breath of his, hell just his shadow is enough to make even Satan crawl on fours back to hell with hands sweating, legs weak, fearing for his life. That is who he is one above all beings, worshipped as a god. And to think he, such a great man, would fall for a mere ordinary girl? he does not consider himself to be a man who thinks much about the love business, he thinks more about the non-love business such as who will he toy with today? whose body will cause heart-wrenching sensational screams to echo?

It was all until you entered his vision, sitting in Yuji's body as usual, annoyed, bored, and sleepy. His eyes looking at whatever was going on, that's when he met you. Your bright smile as you hurried towards Yuji, made him wonder, "Who is she?" that's when his bored eyes sharpened, alert, a predator looking at his next prey.

"Hey Yuji! Long time no see!", your voice, so bright, so sweet

"Hey Y/n, yeah, long time no see!", Yuji smiled

"Ever since you shifted schools, it has not been the same, I miss you a lot, why did you change schools?", arms crossed, eyebrows frowned, and eyes full of questions as you stared at him, he cannot escape this

Your conversation continued as Yuji made all kinds of reasons why he left, it amused Sukuna, a bit entertaining seeing the brat struggle and get cornered, hell, he thought it was good, why so? well you will be a good blackmail seeing how Yuji is close to you

The look on Yuji's face, seeing your throat strangled, body ripped to shreds, utterly destroyed ruthlessly―

"Ah, how fun"

The smirk on his face, chilling to the bone, and you were completely unaware that you had swords swaying near your neck, how would it be chopped off not even in your control. You laughed carelessly as you sipped juice, sitting all pretty, so pretty, it made him want to ruin you so much more.

The pleasure of seeing the fear, terror, horrid look in your eyes, your screams of terror, would truly satisfy him it would be better than anything.

Finally he found his next prey and the hunt begun

As time passed, the interactions between you and Yuji grew, you even met his friends, Nobara and Megumi even his teacher Gojo, the more he observed you, the more he thought you were a very vulnerable person, quite fragile, and also an idiot, you cried easily― the one time you cried when your ice-cream fell, how easily you got hurt, stumbling― hitting your foot as curses escaped from those pretty lips.

How sometimes you walked carelessly― bumping into others, the way others looked at you, sometimes, he wanted to rip them to shreds and gauge out their eyes, after all, how dare they look at you with those eyes?, such feelings? why? doesn't matter, if it annoyed him it does not deserve to exist.

"What an idiot", his lips curled up into a smile as a light chuckle escaped his lips.

Once he even took over Yuji's body when Yuji was with you, he played along, sometimes he slipped up which caused you to look at him a bit confused and concerned but it only made him want to cackle and pin you against the wall and-oh the things he'd do― may you never know.

You walked with him so carelessly, in his mind he had already killed you so many times he lost count. The way you held his hand, soft fingers intertwined with his, pulling him as you ran and laughed, addicting, it turns into an obsession. An unhealthy one, he thought more frequently about you, when you were with Yuji all his senses were on high alert, taking in each and every movement, your outfit for the day, everything.

"Without them you would look better" his eyes trailed the way your clothes wrapped around you, concealing your body, like a present waiting for him to rip open and ravish you.

You won't be able to escape once he starts, pinning you, kissing you, tasting you as his lips kiss your neck, your breasts ruthlessly squeezed, fondled with- sucked by his tongue as if there's no tomorrow―

Your pretty cunt stuffed with his dick, dripping, crying for help, looking pathetic as your body shakes. Your eyes hazy as he ruthlessly slams into you, non-stop, your cries mean nothing, begging means nothing

He will rail you brutally, so much, so much till you collapse and cannot moan anymore, pushed to your limit, no beyond it

Oh what can your sorry cunt do? Just hold on until it's over, after all it's just the beginning

With Yuji losing more control over him each passing time he takes over, how long would you be safe from his clutches, your clothes, your skin all so pristine, may god have mercy on you dear y/n

Oh I forgot―

He is the God

Worship him, pray to him, offer him what he desires

Maybe you will live, dear Y/n, after all?

Who dares to raise their eyes to look at you in his presence?

Footnote: Check out masterlist for all chapters!

[sadly-never-after]

I reread Kitty's diary because of a fic I am writing and I'm sick.

No but seriously as a first gen immigrant Lizzie is so dear to me and her relationship with Daring (& Duchess) is so fucking heartbreaking and I've been there, I've been there, I've LITERALLY been there.

(A guy who I reluctantly befriended and started trusting started dating my roommate three days after he and I stayed up till 03am in the morning having an extremely intimate conversation in which he ended up embracing me in an overly romantic manner. After that he ignored me for the rest of our remaining time together. Also I think he stole my necklace)

This is a silly doll line for children but Lizzie feels so weirdly realistically written when it comes to her experiences as a child-teenage immigrant-refugee. Her culture is alien and strange to others, she can't go home again, she comes off as hostile and mean-spirited purely because of linguistic differences.

And then Daring...

Iirc her official description on Storybook romance she explicitly states that she only wants to start dating when she is back in Wonderland. She knows how difficult a romance with an Ever Afterling would be. She knows that feeling of wanting to have someone from your own home, not due to bigotry but because there's a part of her that will never be understood by an Ever Afterling. And then she lets her guard down. Here he comes, Best Ever After Boy, guess I could try to be your Best Ever After Girl. He is acceptance of her host culture personified. He is the proof that she could thrive Ever After too. To top it off he laughs at her oddities with little mockery. Kitty comments on how she changes herself because of him. On how she almost starts hiding a part of her identity and heritage as a way of adapting and becoming (in her eyes) more suitable to Daring Charming.

And it's not enough.

I know a lot of people are really pissed at EAH for what they did to Dizzie and I get that but I kind of love that development for how heart wrenching it is. It is painful, and not even only for the Lizzie shippers but also for Duchess & Lizzie whose friendship was already unstable because of the events of NTP.

And the fact that none of the episodes or diaries in the future address this makes it even better/worse (depending on your liking of angst) because there's this apparent lack of remorse from Daring who doesn't seem to ever think back on their story. Tbh I think one way the writers could have gotten to develop a better darabella would have been to have her help him in some manner to acknowledge the pain he caused on Lizzie.

You are a teenage refugee. Your family and home is inaccessible. Your only friends are those who escaped with you. They are the remnant of your home. They are the only ones who understand. They are the only ones you trust. You deprive yourself of other connections because you've experienced the pain of rejection, you refuse to change but are forced to adapt. You begin to trust and perhaps to even love. And the two people you loved defrost your heart and proceed to shatter it.

[selfship-confession-box]

★ Hello my fellow selfshippers! ★

PR0SHIP/C0MSHIP/TERFS/ZI0NISTS/ETC DNI. THIS IS NOT A SAFE PLACE FOR YOU.

Box Status: open !!!

Confessions are queued, may take a while to post ^^

This blog is for selfship confessions of almost any kind. Whatever reason you don't wanna post it on your blog, or if you just wanna put a confession here for fun, you're welcome here! Selfship art is welcome as well ^^

Whether your f/o(s) is/are obscure, non-human, etc, this blog is welcome to all kinds.

Similar blogs (not owned by me!): @/selfship-vent-confessions , @/nsft-selfship-confessions

"How do the f/o tags work here if I want to filter them?"

I tag them as "f/o (character here)!" It sometimes depends if the user who submitted the ask included a last name/full name/etc, as I usually do not know which characters the user is talking about 0_o (hence why i don't put fandoms)

Do not use the word "simp" here, as the word is appropriated AAVE. Do not use slurs either, I think that should be common sense.

Blacklist:

Anything Harry P0tter related

Anything Hazb1n Hotel related

FNAFcraze19912 - Reason: Flirting with a minor

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[crimsonhydrangeavn]

I got a question for Garrett, what would happen if MC decided pamper him

Like complimenting him daily

Telling him to rest and spend time

Reminding him he's enough and that perfection isn't always the answer and that MC fell in love because who he truly is and not the one he shows outside of Saint Anne

Instead of going out to dinner, making home cooked meals and etc.

And also help him get the proper help he really needs. That poor baby needs a hug ;-;

Oh my, this is literally the sweetest ask ever! Just the thought of you taking the time to try and heal Garret warms my heart! So much so I'll can't help but share a few little spoilers about his past. I'll make sure to mark them so you don't accidentally spoil yourself if you don't want to!

Honestly, I think Garret's initial reaction would be to happily accept the compliments, home cooked meals, and quality time chalking it up as what a "healthy" relationship should look like. That being said, he would absolutely spoil you and reciprocate all of those sweet and loving gestures.

When it comes to the positive affirmations and being told that he doesn't need to be perfect... well it'll take some time for him to fully believe your words.

At first he'd think your just being kind and saying what expected of wonderful life partner. However, once it sunk in that you were being genuine and you actually meant it... He'd have a really difficult time accepting it.

SPOILER STARTS BELOW

Garret was raised to be his parent's golden only child. That being said, nothing he did was ever enough for his parents. Straight A's? Why not straight A+'s? You won first place in a race? Why aren't you competing in the nationals? What's that? You won a national competition? Why didn't you beat the previous record? Oh you did? Well you need to focus on other extracurriculars if you want to get into the same Ivy league school your father went to. Nothing he did was ever enough for them, however he was far better than his classmates when it came to nearly everything. Grades, athletics, extracurriculars, looks, body, social acumen, etc. All of the girls in his private school wanted to be with him and all of the guys wanted to be him.

However he never saw any of them to be worthy of his time, not until you came along that is...

END SPOILER

The thought of someone like you, the object of ALL of his affections, believing that he's worthy? That he doesn't have to run several miles a day and practically starve himself to maintain his model-esque figure? That he doesn't have to spoil you in riches beyond your wildest dreams?

It'll be a lot for him to understand and accept. However, once he finally believes your sincerity, the poor guy cling onto you and will break down into heart-wrenching sobs.

Finally, finally someone accepts him. Not for the perfect mask he's been trained to wear from a young age, but actually loves and accepts him for who he is on the inside.

And it's not just anyone. It's you. The one he adores, the one he's been completely and hopelessly devoted to since he first saw you, the only one that truly matters.

He would be a completely wreck, but with your patience and kind words he might actually have a shot at healing himself and actual redemption.

Of course, that'll all depend on your actions in and outside of game. ; )

[court-jobi]

We Have Time

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Words: 4,661

Rating: Teen/Mature (spicy second half) 18+ to be safe, my lovelies

A/N: the helmet comes off, separation anxiety, comfort comfort comfort, oral (fem receiving), hand-holding spicy times, my love language is Mando'a, Mandalorian partnerships are top tier, Soft!Din Djarin

Summary: Your heart is torn in two, where your past life and the one you're living in now come to a crossroads and you need to make a decision. Temporary as it is, the stakes feel higher than ever. You're asked to take part in an incredibly lucrative job-- one that'll bring home the biggest paycheck of your life-- at the expense of six weeks of your time, and away from your life partner for the first time in a year.

Now that you have a home, something to lose... something to miss.

But if there is one man who can make you feel like the only creature in the galaxy he would drop anything for, who would support you and your brilliant mind, who would encourage you to the edge of Wild Space and back-- it is your riduur, Din Djarin.

And your Mandalorian is top knotch at keeping his promises and pleasures to you; will give them to you in equal measure:

--in the light of day, and in bed if you ask...

Read on AO3

"That was quick. Back already?"

You'd stopped under the repulsor grille of the Razor Crest, shuffled about until he wheeled himself out from the underside of the ramp. The moment he saw your face, he sat to attention on his knees. 

"--Cyar'ika?"

"He offered me the job."

"Thirty-five…" He repeated, stunned, "thousand credits?"

"--A week;" Dead serious. "Thirty-five, a week."

Din swayed a moment, elbows to his knees; presently, reevaluating all his life choices. “I sure got into the wrong business, didn’t I.”

“Not to brag or anything,” you gave a dazzling smirk his way, “but your girl is a badass when it comes to making the big bucks~”

"What kind of freighters are these?"

"Really kriffing big ones." You gave a smirk, "This is an investment that's gonna take boss-man to the next level of bacta distribution."

"Damn right. It has to be."

How could you not become a mogul with twenty of these freighters in your fleet?

"How long do they need a mech there?" Din asked next.

"Corbyn said the initial contract request outlined work for 4 weeks.." you tweaked the timeline, "-maybe a more realistic five, depending on the speed of things. If they have to order more parts than expected, it could add a couple day’s labor in the meantime. That's not too uncommon."

Din's helmet bobbed around amazed- the tone flowing through his helmet to show he was impressed, 

"That's a hell of a job. You handle things like that?"

"I've done it before. You fill 'other duties as assigned' to kill time while deliveries show up. Things that need the human touch, y’know? Not droid repairs or anything. He's probably got plenty of odd projects I can wrap for him in the shipyard. Speeders, junkers, old gunships he likes to restore and lease out."

Comically, Din looked around to the Razor Crest- his own old girl  that could use a 'bit of work'.

"If I'd known you could handle fleet tech," he rose to his feet to join you, "I'd have given you the bigger bunkroom from the start. Experience like yours deserves better perks than just any ride-along mechanic. No wonder he wants to lock you in."

"C'mon, don't be dramatic~" You laughed. "I don’t need fuss. I might be in demand right now, but m'not that impressive."

"You are impressive.” Din pressed, “I'm not shocked at all."

His confidence in you never failed to make you beam… though it carried weight this time around. The biggest paycheck of your life is on the chopping block in front of you.

The Mandalorian wrenched the tool against the base of his palm. All teasing aside, the stakes were setting in; you can tell by where he looks off now. He asked the biggest factor:

"...And the start date?"

"Well:" you bit the bullet with a gnaw of your teeth against your cheek, "end of this week." 

Din nodded. Brief. Accepting.

"Think you'll be ready in that quick of a turnaround?" 

You froze– that assumption was a mega leap. You hadn't even gotten that far.

"He– didn't really give me a chance to ask what I'd need to wrap up; he went to catch someone else before they left the hangar. But good grief, Din," you crossed your arms and furrowed your brows to confusion, "I wouldn't have given him an answer even if he asked– I'd never just do something like this without telling you!"

He seemed to straighten at that. Surprised for some reason, that you would think this way when it was all obvious to you.

You caught yourself– no sense in unpacking that to death. Next question.

"How did you leave things then?"

"Said he'd check back in the morning for my decision either way. He recognized the ship, knows where to find me.." you gestured lightly beside you, the booster you stood beneath. 

The tense proposition buzzed around your head. This job looks on flimsi to be the makings of a good deal, a strong as hellfire tick on your winstreak, and one you wouldn't have blinked at six months ago. 

But you knew what that would require: leaving. Both your Mandalorian and the Child. Your beloved boys that roped you in and made you their family.

It's funny, the last time you took a job like the old days, things went completely wrong from the start and ended before it ever got off the ground:

It was only a short time after you'd met, but sparks had already begun to fly between you and this Mandalorian; you'd worked so perfectly together so far. In tandem, each other's missing piece. And what's more, you found yourself enjoying the company, knowing you didn't have to go it alone anymore. That was so refreshing– and unheard of. Like the oddest pairing of hard to soft, a sun-warmed kitten to cold humanized steel, you were drawn into each other's orbit to thrive better than you might have alone. This was a partnership, truly. And you saw a solo job as a way to contribute, pull your weight. 

So you agreed to one that came your way one day, and called it an easy win- he'd drop you off, pick you up, same time next week. You'd felt a little funny leaving him, even then. In this time together, you knew you’d surely miss his company, but denied yourself any true separation anxiety: it’s not like it was earned. How could it be? You'd just met. 

But you'd parted. Gone your separate ways with a rendezvous plan already in the forefront of your mind as you went to meet your ride– 

–when an explosion along the tram you were set to board sent a crowd hurtling towards you. If you hadn’t said a long goodbye like you did, if you’d stalled just two minutes less… you'd have been on that train. 

It was pronounced a cylinder misalignment, diagnostic fluke or something like that– and not intentional. But you didn’t know that at the time. A sudden burst of fuel setting the entire transport dock ablaze had you shook.

You'd turned tail to run straight back towards where the Mando had left you– only to hear your name being shouted from a clouded receiver, encased in a beskar helmet, somehow rising loud and strong over the swarm of panic-ridden pedestrians… 

He was running to you, too. 

Didn't bother making other arrangements for the job call in all the chaos, after that. But given that little scare, you both decided to just cut the losses and try again next time the opportunity presented itself. Bad luck, eh? Next time, for sure.

…That was eight months ago. You ruled out any solo jobs, and so did he.

If only for a short tenure, the op; and this time wasn't unheard of or impossible.. But not only were you rusty, but the timing was horrible. And long.

Din set his tool down, finally rising to come up to you.

“We can talk it through all you like…" he posed to you, "But you’ll need to listen to your gut in the end. What do you think?"

You looked back wildly. He was leaving this huge decision up to you?? Did he seriously think you'd blindly accept?

"What do I think?" You started defensive, then… stopped. 

Considered, and easing up, you sighed. 

You eyed the split in the exhaust somewhere over Din's head, the one on its last leg. 

"I think... it would be enough to fix her." You scanned the Razor Crest, her makeshift patches along the outer shell of the thruster. "-And then some. I know money isn't everything, but.. It's a shit-ton of money, babe. It's... doable." you laughed nervously, thankful Din finally joined your side as you explained the pros.

Doable was an understatement. This was more than agreeable, at this paygrade. You'd be a dikut to turn down even half that price. 

After he brushed them off a bit, his hands came up to hold your cheeks; visor trained on you, unreadable. But you knew better. He was assessing, looking for the hesitation, the test of any doubts.

"You could stop taking pucks for a while," with a small smile, you caught his wrists in return "Skyborn knows you deserve a break. You can rest up for once..."

He made a little sound, stroking your cheek in a gentle show of thanks. You were considering you both in this, which broke you more to think about going separate ways for a while.

You ran through the logistics, too– the loose ends.

"And– I figured you'd be off to find that Jedi anyway, and I know how you get about worlds I haven't been to before. This would be an easy one. Just your average, smoggy, Corellian garage.You've seen one? Then picture it, filled with bubba Rhodians and Keshiris, and that's the home away from home." You joked gently.

There were plenty of benefits to this arrangement and Din nodded curtly to acknowledge them, but a gentle shake of his head showed he was still pondering some things, unseen..   You really wished you'd told him all this inside, where you could read his reaction better. 

The quiet from him was beginning to make you doubt your good reasoning at all. 

"Please say something?" You begged softly.

Only one thing came to mind- by the way he was likely running through the script of his whenever he thought of you, you had a good idea what he’d say. 

His aliit. His creed. Your safety, above all else.

"This Corbyn... Do you trust him?"

It was a loaded question. Trust was rare for him, yet you earned his. But Din couldn't be responsible for you while in the care of someone else, which clearly had him on edge about all this. He’d surely wanna meet the guy before you shipped out. While that thought seemed parental, you understood it- and would expect no less from the man who valued you like the finest of beskar ingots.

You braved a little smile.

"I do. He's a good guy. Bites off more than he can chew but--- but it's the same setup as I did back when he hired me for the baby stuff,” you squeezed his wrists, “It would be safe.”

A careful thumb came to your temple, brushing the beskar steel adorning you. Pushed your hair back in a stylish fashion, it did– but in reality was your beautiful proposal gift. Then Din traced the skin just below it, raking through your hair. The touch ached.

"I didn't think this would ever happen. Didn’t know he docked this far out for fueling anyway,” you absently studied you Mandalorian’s thick cowl from your spot here at chest level. “I haven't had a way to contact Wid in forever. Hell, I know I used to do this all the time before, but… It's just different now.” you sunk into him. Your gut deflated, sadder the more you spoke. “And if all goes well at the next stop, well… the kiddo will be gone too."

That still made you sick to think about. Your voice was catching and you hated it.

"It's just a lot think about, leaving you right now. I don't know what my gut thinks about it." 

Fortunately, he soothed you like no other: at the first sound of distress, he’d slid a steadying hand down to your waist and pulled you close to accept his touch. His forehead met yours.

"Mhi solus tome, mesh’la, bal dar'tome" He spoke softly. "We vow these words for this exact circumstance." 

It meant so much more to you now: one when together, and apart.

"My kind, we grow up with buirkan. Our carers have no formal roles. They are buir. They both share the load, they both meet the needs of their ad, their tribe. That’s what partnership is; I… I ask what you want to do, because I know no other way.” 

Din caressed down to your chin, taking in your fully torn expression. 

“I trust your judgment here, mesh’la. I leave this one to you; you know this kind of work better than I do. If you're comfortable.. and -only- if you're comfortable, and you -want- to do this, you have my support. Always."

You wanted to break at this trust, crush and crumble at his bouying nature. He was handing you the reins as equals, despite the hushed strain he said the words. He could say all the right things, but by no means did he not feel. You knew it wasn't easy– not even for him.

Up the repaired ramp, you caught sight of the child peeking out from the ship’s open door. He called in that funny little chirp– trying to sing again.

You smiled, despite the lurching feeling in your chest shaking you. "Hi, buddy."

He waved and watched his own steps as he hurried down the ramp.

You met his short arms just a step out of Din's hold, and brought the child up to you. He seemed to know something was wrong, because his ears fell back the moment his settled at your chest level where he'd reached up for your face. You shut your eyes at the touch.

"This won't be a forever goodbye." Din soothed you, “You know that, right?” 

Din must be forgetting how poor the reception on Corellia is.

You chimed back, knowing the truth for yourself. "Gotta prepare myself as if it is, though."

"We don't know what we'll find there." Din set a hand to your low back again, unable to keep from you for too long. "The Jedi may not even be in Calodan. We could be back before you know it; and we'd wait here until your work term is done."

The optimistic thought did sound better and helped you swallow. 

"That's fair. Stranger things have happened."

Your Mandalorian. Sweet, sweet Din. Under the hum of the air reserves cycling outside the ship, he cupped the back of your head and leaned against your temple. 

"I know you're torn. But you don't need to worry about us in this. We’re behind whatever you decide."

The child looked to his buir. He reached a bit to his shoulder strap for Din, so you passed him over. That helmet of his hid a lot– but not tone. He clearly didn't like the thought of this either; having to explain to the kid why you’d be gone by the time he wakes up in the morning in a few days. 

So he treated it like any other trip. 

"How bout it, pal," he spoke with a quirk of the helmet to the Child, "Would you be ok with a solo trip for a while? Just like old times."

The munchkin cooed at this, fingers raking over the notches. He seemed happy, if he understood at all. Good thing he’s young, you thought. A peaceful hope, at the very least.

It gave you a happy comfort– for now.

The real churning would hit you when you gave Corbyn your answer. When he gave you the gameplan for the rest of the team he’s hiring, and when he got to meet your very intimidating Mandalorian husband– who he profusely sucked up to when he observed how protective he seemed of you. 

When that last night came and you tucked in the kiddo and realized you'd be packing up for your first real time away from your Mandalorian: your husband. 

…for the first time in over a year.

The Mandalorian brought you to bed in the most tender, gentlest way he ever had that night. In complete darkness, the way he did before he'd shown his face: where your senses would be sharpened and you'd feel everything he did, and take your time doing it. 

Maybe it was a comfort for himself too, out of an old habit to shield himself while next to bare that you didn't seem to mind. Through little noises: elated, pleasurable, heartfelt, tickled sighs and begs, he always found his way across you.

–But he heard the difference between a gasp and a cry. 

At the second you inhale sharply in a clear watery sniff he stopped giving kisses down your ribcage. Where he'd been massaging you with careful, trigger steady hands tucked under your sweater, Din climbed back onto his knees and shifted up to cradle your face with those same warm palms.

"Hey.. I'm right here. What's wrong?" Din asked gently.

You process by his tone that he'd halted altogether–

Hands clawed for his arms to come back around you,

"Nono no, don't stop!"

He thumbed beside your eyes, meeting wetness.

 "Riduur.."

"I'm fine, jus-- just keep going, please." your snivels did little to convince him you were okay. Desperate for him as always, but not out of pure lust anymore.

Above you -practically blind- the Mandalorian tensed. Worried for your heart above all else. Testing light, brushing fingers along your neck and onto your chest, he strove to feel past your flushed, quivering shield. To soothe your skin, but also check your heart rate.

He avoided the suspicious edge in his chest with a calm, doting voice,

"We have time, cyar'ika."

"No, we don’t!-- I--"

There it was.

A kiss graced your crown to still you, then a longer one over your lips. He leaned his forehead to yours, calming you with strokes through your hair until you gathered your true thoughts. Naturally, he'd wait as long as he needed to let you continue, but he didn't need to wait long to hear your whisper. 

"Tell me again this is a good idea…"

Tell me I need to go through with it, or else I'll talk myself out.

You felt lips trailing lower in soft presses, taking all your piqued attention while they went on the hunt for a sweet spot. Din’s unfiltered voice made you shiver with each bit he’d speak against the column of your neck… down and up again.

He whispered, beyond tenderness and into reverence, 

"This isn't going to be forever.” A kiss to your cheek briefly, “You're going to do a great job and you're coming through for a friend. Won’t just help you, but millions in the galaxy who will benefit from the work you’re doing. This is something big, and you're being rewarded for it. This is a good thing." 

You heard the smile in his voice and thanked Ashla -once again- for the Grace given to you to have a man like this in your arms. 

"You're brilliant, riduur.” Din sang your praises, “You're giving up so much. But I'm really proud of you... This isn't too big for us."

You nodded, getting a grip and gaining a controlling breath.

“It’s not too big for us.”

“That’s right.”

"I'm gonna miss this." You touched his cheek, craving this proximity while you had it. 

He leaned into it and kissed the palm when it slid into reach.

"I'm right here."

He is here, and the words warm you through, sending a heat wave that buzzes around your spine when you let yourself believe it.  He's right here, and he is all yours. Would be, too, even if you were jumps away in the stars. 

You were one when together, and you would be one when apart. 

The latter would be tested soon, but that creed? You'd take both truths with you as your own. 

He's right here. 

And he proved it. 

Din's tongue made a few kitten licks as he kissed your wrist next; then down, and down, until he merged both your fingers and pressed where you joined into the space above your head. His order, to stay there, while his left yours to send sparks down your arm on the underside, to tease. 

"You know," Din's adoring tone dripped with doting interest while he resumed mapping out your body.   "Just like with 'love', there's not really one word to say 'im sorry' among our people."

"You can't– say– just 'sorry'?" Your voice still sounded wet at its edges, but your chest clipped with interest. "What do you say when you kriff up, then?"

Din laughed with a rasp, but answered, 

"Depends how big you kriff up. Something small, that's nothing. You'd let it go. No harm done."

–Then Din's hands made a parallel move behind your knees, pulling and pinning them up with a sudden fierceness. 

Talking about a tangent: he’s talking about apologizing, but for what… He'd done nothing wrong, you thought. But you let him speak; he's enlightening you. Surely to distract, but by chik it's working. 

From where he sat, he was fully between your legs and about to bow over you.

"But when I need forgiveness, true forgiveness–" 

You hummed for his answer.

"Ni ceta," Din kissed your sternum. The lips dragged downward in a slow crawl, then nearly growled from the deepest part of him: " 'I kneel.' "

You gasped when his tongue swiped up your core. Every end of your body sang out its pleasure at the touch– his tasting you while on his knees. The heat made you keen. Your sweater didn't stay on for long once he started. 

You shucked out of the rest of your nightclothes as easily as you could, then let your arms fall lax above your head again. He wasn't checking that you were holding onto anything, but you minded where he last left them. When you ground up, he pressed you down. When you moaned, he copied you- right onto your clit. And when you sighed his name, those expert hands massaged you within every inch of his reach. 

By all means, you should be on your knees for him for as good as he felt, how he was treating you… falling only just short of worshipping you without words. 

Your drop was coming, coming, coming, and you were about to completely fall apart by that tongue of his. You told him so, with a quiver to your voice and hands shooting down to stroke along his head between your thighs. 

"Din– Din, Din honey…"

He purred into you with a few rounding nudges of his head. 

"Yes, m'angel," he whispered in the space between you, between his kisses, "Lemme kneel for you. Lemme send you off right t'night– straight to the stars, cyar'ika."

The telltale sign was your quick breaths and baby whimpers, so Din doubled down and tamped his arms down on your waist– until you came, hard.

You cried out of complete pleasure now, your sobs turning into pitiful begs with a dazed smile that betrayed any tear at the edge of your eyes. You tried to push Din's head away entirely, but he didn't let up until he heard the actual words, 

"Please!! Please, n-no more, baby–"

You minded your volume only for the sake of the kiddo outside the door; you didn't want him thinking you were in pain and taking it on himself to investigate (like last time). 

Released and limber, you panted as your adoring husband simply took a hand to your core and rubbed it slow and steady to quivering calmness. He licked his own lips with a satisfied sigh in cleaning himself up. 

"There she is." Din's praises returned, "There's my happy Love…"

"You're–" you wheezed, "youh-what’dya do wrong… that y’needed forgiveness?..”

He nuzzled into your neck, pleasure and prayers coating each of his kisses: to cover you with his love before you go.

“I’m a selfish man,” Din craved the warmth he found there, “Tempted to devour you where you stood, watching you run through those schematics with your boss today… Had to hold myself back by a rancor’s leash. Can only hope-” he nibbled at your ear, “-that this is enough to atone for this covet’s heart.”

Pride flooded you, invigorating. Filling you even more than his words usually did.

“Well fuck,” you sighed again, “You’re forgiven…" 

Din's hands petted you, while he dropped kisses up your body this time, starting to settle. Before he got too far, you halted his ascent by his shoulders, 

"But… you don't hafta leave your knees yet.."

With a warm smile you know would be there, you could only feel in the dark how Din’s loving laugh came with its teasing caress to bless you. To wish you only good memories, good thoughts, the things he promised to give you in droves. The love you so much deserved and what he was all too passionate to give you as he knelt between your legs filled you completely, the tale of which came through his tender reach: pulling your thighs back to him– one hanging clear up to his shoulder.  

Delicious scratches made by his fingers skirted down that leg. ‘Want’ screamed its way through touch. Touch that you would miss so badly… touch you would crave when you laid down alo-

"Liser ni ceta, ner mesh’la? Cin vehtin, gedet'yu gar se ner riduur ru’kir?”

Din’s words sent you shivering– of course, you had no clue what half of those meant. And he knew that. Cheeky. 

But it worked, you know. It always did pull you from your misery– curiosity for this man and everything about him. 

“You’re tryna kill me with that mouth, aren’t you?” you chuckled. “Take my heart right outta my chest before I can even think?”

Din kissed your ankle while he teased the soft, supple core where you were about to join– the ‘last chance’ moment he always gave you. Encased in darkness, your sign of ‘yes’ in lieu of a nod was a wiggle to ‘get a move on’. 

“Have that already, I think. Just as you have mine,” Din slid home and relished your sigh at the intrusion. His own groan sent his breaths reeling at the new closeness.

“Really not fair I–  (ahhh) can only catch l-like– two words outta that..”

Din ground up into you. He’s not really setting a pace yet– just getting comfortable and giving you time.

“You know me. I prefer to show you what I mean anyway, Angel-Eyes.”

God those pet names… You’ll miss them as if you’re missing a limb. How will you manage..-

“Gotta remind you of what’s waiting for you when you come home to me,” Din broke you from your thoughts, “...N’... have something to remember you by.”

Relaxing around him, your eyes fluttered shut. Home– that sounded heavenly. And if you had more of this– a lifetime of it, even– well that sounded worth it to you. 

And that little comment told you everything: he’s going to miss you, too.

You moaned lightly, reaching for his shoulder to pull him down. So, he released your leg to make room, and gave you a full, searing  kiss once he laid flat. Even if your positions were reversed, he couldn’t meld with you any closer. 

“S’this ok?” he whispered.

You whimpered your ‘yes’– a happy one, now. Full. 

So you didn’t bother asking what that string of Mando’a meant– but gave your best guess.

“Then– f’you’re asking to make it last… so I can’t forget…” you begged with hands locking onto his, “then yes. Please, riduur–”

Heart thundering wildly in your chest, you caved when Din leaned in and started kissing your neck so deeply, and so strongly, that you knew you’d have no trouble remembering him for the next several weeks. 

Surely it would pass quickly- life had a way of doing that. All was going to work out. 

He would be here for you– together and apart.

He only broke off from the dampened skin of your neck to bow into the curve of your shoulder– before throwing his entire self into your loving embrace from the power of his hips. He kneels there, just long enough to hear you:

“Make this last for me.”

[shepherds-of-haven]

Me: omg I love the SoH ROs so much all I wanna do is daydream about them

Me, daydreaming about them: what if they almost died... What if they're bleeding out... What if the MC is bleeding out...

Unfortunately they're all blorbos now, which means I want them to suffer (affectionate)

Which brings the question, in a near death situation, which one of the ROs goes for a dramatic one liner and which one tries to actually say something meaningful?

Blade: he isn't one for drama so I feel like he just wouldn't really think, "i'm dying so this may be my last chance to say something," and would just be like "you... need to get out of here..." (always thinking of the other person), but if he did think he was dying, he'd try to say something meaningful!

Trouble: I don't think Trouble thinks he can be killed for real so he'd probably not even notice the severity of his own wounds, like "I'm fine, stop fussing over me and help [someone else wounded] or get after the enemy or etc.!!!" Not necessarily being nobly selfless like Blade, just sort of not aware how close he is to death and so isn't thinking about it/taking it seriously

Tallys: if she actually thinks she has a real shot of dying, she's staying calm and composed for the other person's sake and is going to fade away with quiet dignity, but she's definitely going to exchange some of the most heartfelt, gut-wrenching, meaningful words anyone's ever heard in their life on her hypothetical deathbed

Shery: I think she'd be sort of panicking and hysterical and trying to think of something meaningful to say, but it'd probably come off as menial, like "Make sure to look after Caine, and... please look after my plants..." Like frantically trying to go down a checklist and sort of being confused and panicky rather than having the wherewithal to actually say what she'd want to say in that kind of situation!

Riel: he'd be extremely calm and would be dishing out instructions on how it's going to go down and what's going to happen next. Basically getting his affairs in order in an efficient and tidy way as he's like literally bleeding out lol, by his composure alone you wouldn't think he was wounded! Basically the exact opposite of Shery, and it would only be in the final few moments of consciousness that he could stop being totally "logical" and he'd get quiet and be like, oh. this could actually be the end. In which case he'd try to sneak in something heartfelt and striking and poignant, but he'd probably have expended all his energy on the first part and would lose consciousness halfway through, so no one would know what he was going to say, and he "wouldn't remember" when he woke up lol

Chase: I think it really depends on the situation... he's been in so many near-death scenarios that he's gotten out of perfectly fine that it's a bit hum-drum for him now, so if it's a simple matter of "oh no i've been shot and i'm bleeding out" he'd probably go for the quip or the dramatic one-liner purely to put the people around him at ease or get them to crack a smile, but if it's like a "oh I'm already dead and there's no way anyone's going to save me except by literal intervention of the gods", maybe he'd say something more meaningful?? It really depends on who's with him and how lucid he is, though!

Red: he'd try to be bracing and good-hearted about it so as to not worry anyone or sabotage himself while he's down (he's of the mindset that if you embrace/accept death too preemptively, you're more likely to die, whereas if you act like it's going to be fine, there's a higher chance that, like, placebo effect will somehow help you pull through), so he'd be like, "Don't worry, haha, I've had worse..." *is bleeding out from a gut shot* "YOU HAVE??" "Well, no, but it hardly hurts..." I think if he genuinely thought it was too late for him, he'd say something meaningful, but it would take a lot for him to get to that point lol

Ayla: I feel like she'd just be pissed and not accepting the gravity of the situation, like, "Why are you all looking at me like that, I'm fine??? Blood replaces itself, you are being dramatic" So she probably wouldn't "waste time" on being sentimental when she can just WILL herself to get better, but if it got to the point where she thinks it's genuinely over, she'd abruptly get scared, emotional, tearful, and she'd probably choke out something vulnerable, like "I don't want to go like this..."

Briony: I think she'd be in shock and would behave similarly to Shery where she would just be saying whatever was racing through her mind, so it could possibly be meaningful and vulnerable, like "I always wanted to... [x]" or it could be somewhat nonsensical or brushing the whole thing off, like "It's just a scratch, I just need to rest, make sure that so-and-so is seen to because I saw that they were limping..." (thinking she's just going to pass out now)

Lavinet: I think she'd be very noble and dignified and graceful in near-death, like she'd arrange herself very beautifully and would be lying there in some infirmary bed with her hair spread out across the pillow as so-and-so clutches her hand and weeps and she murmurs to them to not to worry and tells them "her last words" in a delivery and meaningfulness straight from a dramatic novel

Halek: I think the first time he'd say something so flippant and stupid, like "Holy shit, getting shot is such a pain" -> 😵 (passes out) and if he had the luck of waking up again he'd be like "oh my god those could have been my last words" and he'd take it more seriously the next time and try to think of something more meaningful beforehand lol

[gotham-daydreams]

Heeeeeyyy,

I don't want to be pressuring, but how will they even find y/n. Like, they're so many people in Gotham, and they know nothing about them except from thire own name. And if they were found, would they put up a fight? 🤔 she could beat tim in a one on one, with her being a black belt and all... so how will the capture be like?

From

👾anon

You're good! No worries.

As for your questions, I will say that how the Batfam ends up finding the reader is revealed in the 3rd part. Though I will drop a small spoiler and say that they don't get kidnapped... not right away, anyway ;] (or at least not in the part I'm currently writing, as of right now.)

It is still angsty, and honestly I'd say pretty heart wrenching since, y'know, it doesn't go well at all. Which I'm sure pretty much everyone expected-

Though, I will say that if anything where to happen, the reader would definitely put up a fight! Granted, they don't want to fight the Batfam- not because they can't fight at all (and as you've mentioned, they do have a black belt (as mentioned in "Not Here"), and they do have some experience in boxing as mentioned in "Not Tonight" (though I can't recall at the moment if it's also mentioned in "Not here"), among other things that could help them out in a fight), but because to them, I can imagine it's more of a last resort kind of thing. If they have to, they will, and considering the Batfam? They definitely will.

For one-on-one fights? Yeah, the reader probably could beat Tim, and maybe get scarily close to beating Steph (or just flat out beating her too). For Dick and Jason, I think they'd honestly need a little more polish and refinement on their skills and fighting style to actually beat them, but they could get a little close. As for Damian and Cass? Ehh, they'll definitely need more training and experience for that. Both are trained to be weapons before anything else, and working with Batman isn't exactly going to make that suddenly go away. If anything- it'll probably put the skills you learned from that experience to the test (fighting/combat wise, anyway).

I don't think I have to even mention Bruce, but if that were to happen the reader would like to think they at least got halfway there to beating him, and they'd probably be half right.

Though, this is all just on strength, agility, skill, reaction time and such alone. Everyone in the Batfam easily has quicker reflexes compared to the reader, and more experience when it comes to combat (not that the reader doesn't have their own fair share of experience, but y'know), but the reader would definitely try to use their head more than just fight the family head on (which is just... asking for failure and disaster).

Even if it isn't going to be easy to out smart the World's Greatest Detective, or someone with a mind like Tim- not to mention Oracle being on their side. Or really just, anyone trained under the Batman, at all. It isn't impossible.

So, in a situation where the reader has to fight someone from the Batfam, they'll try to utilize both their brain and brawn. So, if they can't beat whoever they're fighting, at the very least they can get away from the fight and escape. Which they definitely have better odds at succeeding in since they took track and field as mentioned in "Not Here." The reader might try to take down whoever they're up against depending on who it is, but I will say that they'll mostly choose to have a smooth getaway more often than not.

Again, like you said, Gotham is a big place- they could probably get away for a little while, if nothing else. :]

Besides, the reader could also unintentionally suprise the Batfam with some of their skills and techniques when it comes to combat, but I don't think it'll be enough to throw any of them off enough to beat them- but that also depends what caused the Batfam's surprise and how big their reaction was to it. So, now that I'm really thinking about it, it's possible to catch them off guard and defeat them that way. Unlikely- but possible. (Also because it depends on how certain members of the Batfam view the reader and their own fighting capabilities. Since that can really determine how shocked or surpised they'll get at certain things. Which I'll say right now- despite the awards in your room, some definitely don't think you can defend yourself, or could hold up well in a 'real' fight. Dick is one of them.)

Nevertheless, how would a kidnapping play out?

Honestly, it really depends on multiple things.

1. Why they resorted to kidnapping above everything else. (Which can vary from you being in danger (from their perspective), or just them just getting impatient.)

2. Who is doing the kidnapping. (Which can be multiple people.)

3. How whoever is kidnapping you, plans to do it.

4. How urgently they want to kidnap you (which can affect #3).

5. Do they have a plan, or are they doing it impulsively?

6. How likely are they to mess up, and if they do, how quickly can they recover.

These can all change and differ, with the reader's reaction and action changing accordingly, but again, it depends. In some situations the reader may be put into a position where they can't fight back. Or maybe they realizing what's going on much too late. Maybe they even fight back and manage to get away, or they fight back but their attempts are fruitless in the end. If the Batfam fucks up, even a little bit or unintentionally, the reader could take advantage of that- but that's if whoever is trying to kidnap them can or can't recover fast enough.

Sure, the chances of anyone in the Batfam messing up are low, and go even lower depending on who you're talking about. However, those chances are never zero, and again- the Batfam doesn't really know much about the reader at all. With some knowing more than others, sure, but you also have to take into account that some of these people are going to be selfish as yanderes, and don't want to share certain pieces of information about the reader with one another because maybe they want to be the only one to know about whatever they're keeping to themself.

Hence, making it more likely for mistakes to happen, but the Batfam is also really good at what they do- which is also why how quickly they can recover from said (most likely unintentional) mistake or slip up is kind of important. Seeing as it can make or break the reader's chances of escaping successfully.

Not to mention that certain pairs work better than others, but depending on what leads up to the kidnapping- some unlikely teamups could be made. They could either get in the way of each other, or work scarily well. Though solo attempts are also possible- let's be honest, with how most of the yanderes feel about the reader at this point in the series, that's not going to happen. They all want to see and meet the reader as quickly as possible, to a point where they're almost borderline not allowed to see you without being in pairs or something. Not because they want to stick together necessarily (most do want to just, be with the reader alone, after all), but because of their own selfishness, greed, and sometimes jealousy. (Though there are some exceptions, like part 3.)

Basically: who knows? It can go one of many ways, and depending on which way it goes, the reader could possibly escape or just be left helpless at the hands of the Batfam. As for THE kidnapping? I'm not gonna spill, we'll see how things go :]

Tldr:

1. How the Batfam finds the reader is explained in Part 3 and I'm not spoiling.

2. Yeah, the reader will fight if they have to- and stand a better chance against some of them compared to others. Though for the most part would use their brain and, if they can't defeat someone, they'll make a quick getaway instead, and have higher chances of succeeding in that. Though it is possible for them to catch whoever they're fighting off guard, and defeat them that way.

3. How the reader reacts and acts to a kidnapping highly depends on the kidnapping itself, and who is trying to do it. The reader may or may not be able to fight back depending on the situation, and there is more room for mistakes because the Batfam doesn't know much about the reader — and if someone does know more they'll probably keep it to themself out of selfishness. The chance for a slip up is small, but could be enough for the reader to get away.

- As for the actual kidnapping that may or may not happen in the series, and how that'll go with everything? I'm not spilling, sorry!

Hope this answered your question! If it didn't, I apologize and I can clarify anything specifically that may have confused you or anyone else in another ask.

If anyone else has a question, or you yourself have another question, feel free to send in an ask! I'm trying to answer these as much as I can while writing the 3rd part, if you couldn't tell!

[grassbreads]

I’d love to know about Yulma and how important it is to representation in shounen manga

This has been sitting in my askbox for a couple months (because I am incapable of punctuality), but anon sent this to me back when I was talking about Yulma over on my vnc blog. For those unaware, Yulma refers to Yu Kanda and Alma Karma from the manga D.Gray-man.

So the thing is, to be honest, I don't know if you can say Yulma is/was important for representation. They don't tend to get brought up as an example of representation (except by diehard d.gray-man fans like me, lol) in shonen, and their whole thing is complicated enough that I feel like the queerness of it all flies over a lot of people's heads.

However! They're very important to me personally, and I do think it's kind of remarkable their story came out in like 2010. Because even though their queerness gets overlooked a lot, it's like. really there no matter how you interpret it.

The short version of their very complicated story is that Kanda and Alma are a couple who were resurrected into new bodies. Alma was a woman when they were originally together in their past lives, but is physically male in the present. Kanda is still very much in love with them by the end of their story, which, depending on the reading, makes Kanda very bi and/or Alma very trans.

This sound like something you want details on? If so, let's talk about how D.Gray-man's fan favorite edgy badass toughguy character briefly became the star of his very own heart-wrenching tragic queer romance.

Here's a brief crash course in Yu Kanda and Dgm for the uninitiated:

D.Gray-man is a manga about a group of exorcists (in the loosest and most anime sense of the term) in the 1890s fighting a holy war against mechanical demons powered by the souls of the dead. There are two things you need to understand about this plot for me to explain Yulma:

The Black Order, the secret branch of the church that exorcists work for, has a long history of committing horrific human experiments to further the war effort.

Due to complications of world building, only a tiny number of people can become exorcists, and tracking down new ones is extremely difficult.

Yu Kanda is one of the exorcists, and though not the actual main character (that's the lad in my icon), he's a very important secondary character. Arguably he's the most important secobdary character, since he's the main guy's biggest foil and the first character to play deuteragonist in a major story arc. He's also a huge fan favorite. The character popularity polls that Jump used to do always had him and the mc going back and forth over who won #1 most popular.

Kanda was also a classic edgy toughguy character. His first two scenes are him almost murdering the main guy because he thinks he's an intruder, then complaining about people grieving for their friend too loudly. He never smiles. He argues with the righteous mc about wasting time/energy protecting civilians. He threatens (and delivers) violence on anyone that annoys him. He looks like this:

TLDR; Kanda was an adored-by-fans mean badass archetype in a 2000s shonen manga. Not generally the guy you peg for starring in a piece of queer romantic storytelling.

And for the entirety of the original anime adaptation's 103 episode run, for the first 188ish chapters of the manga, you do not learn a single thing about his early life. You learn he joined the Black Order very young, and you meet the mentor that took him in at that point, but although there are little hints, a couple cryptic mentions of him searching for a certain person, his early origins remain a complete black box.

Then came the Alma Karma arc.

This is the point where I start getting into spoilers.

To make a very long story short, the Alma Karma arc reveals that Kanda is one of the Black Order's human experiments. The Order ran a secret project 9ish years before the start of the series in which they essentially tried to re-use dying exorcists (since finding new ones is so hard). They took the bodies of dying or recently deceased exorcists and harvested their brains, implanting those brains into new magically grown child bodies.

Key to this project—the second exorcist project—is that these newly grown second exorcists were not supposed to remember anything from their previous lives. Kanda, however, recovered a few hazy memories from his past self. Most importantly, he can recall an unclear image of the woman that his past self was in love with. This memory gradually becomes Kanda's reason to live. He wants desperately to find and meet that person.

Now, aside from Kanda, there was one other successfully revived second exorcist. This was a boy named Alma Karma.

Over the course of their brief shared childhood, Kanda and Alma become extremely close. However, due to a series of horrible events that I'll spare you the details of, Alma is eventually driven to murder-suicide. He wants himself and Kanda to die together to spite the Order, and Kanda almost lets him do it.

The one thing that keeps Kanda from letting Alma kill him, the thing that drives him instead to kill Alma, his most beloved and only friend, is that he can't bear to die without finding that woman again.

Have you figured out the twist yet?

9 years later, in the present, Kanda discovers that he didn't actually quite kill Alma. The Order kept Alma secretly half-alive in order to do more dubious experiments. And, more importantly, when they meet again, Kanda discovers the truth. The woman that he's been searching for his whole life, the woman he's in love with, the woman he tried to kill Alma in order to find, was also killed and made into a second exorcist. And her brain was placed into the body of Alma Karma.

After quite a lot more violence and tragedy, Kanda and Alma end their story arc by running away together on their deathbeds. Alma dies, for real this time, in Kanda's arms, and his last words are to tell Kanda he loves him. These words are presented as something Kanda hears from both the boy and woman versions of Alma's soul.

So! At the end of a very long and complicated story, one thing holds true: Kanda and Alma are in love. As passed down from their past selves, they are specifically in romantic love. They were a couple. And to speak as a fan, the sheer absolute devotion to how Kanda's love for Alma is presented is seriously intense and moving.

Now, given the absolute hell that is Alma's life, gender identity is frankly the last thing they have time to worry about, so it's hard to say how the whole "literally a woman's brain in a male body" thing might have settled for them if given time to think about it. But that is inherently a pretty trans narrative. And given the whole Alma gender situation, there's simply no reading of their whole situation where neither of them is queer.

If you take present day Alma as a guy, which is more or less how he's presented in canon (though again, who knows how he would've felt about that male body in different circumstances), then congratulations! You've got mlm in your shonen manga. They were straight in a different life, but now one of them's a dude, and they are still deeply in love with each other. They've even got not one but two "let's forget it all and run away together" scenes, just as every mlm couple seems to have.

On the other hand, if you go with the angle that Alma's still a woman based on her mind/soul, even in her new body, then Kanda may not be canonically queer, but Alma is inarguably trans. Again, literally a woman's brain in a male body. It may not be how most people end up trans, but that doesn't change the facts of her situation.

You see what I mean about how they're undeniably queer, but also kind of easy to miss? There's so much other insane shit going on in their story that Alma's whole gender situation can get passed over. Plus, you can look online to this day and find people arguing that Kanda's not "technically" explicitly in love with the present day male version of Alma, since he doesn't 100% unambiguously say as much. I love reading comprehension.

Also! As a possible extra reason for why people don't talk about them much, the official English translation of the manga translated Alma's final "I love you" very differently. There's always a lot of nuance and argument when it comes to translating "大好き" into English, but given the full context of their relationship and the scene it's in, Viz's handling really sets off the censorship bells in my head.

Here's the different versions (Japanese then fan then official), if you want to compare:

Nothing more classically queer than censorship by way of questionable translation 🙃.

At the end of the day, Kanda and Alma are in kind of a strange middle ground. They're each in love with the other one, but the whole second exorcist brain transfer situation makes it complicated enough that people argue their feelings aren't explicitly romantic (and thus not gay) in the present. Alma is literally a woman's brain implanted in a male body, but we don't have time to dwell on the gender complications of all that because of the hell that is the rest of their life. They're canon but not canon—queer people whose stories don't have space for them to be queer.

However, given that all this messy, tragic ambiguity was published in a fairly popular shonen manga back in 2010, it still feels kind of remarkable to me. Alma is somewhat an antagonist (it's complicated), and he dies at the end of his arc, but once again, Kanda was/is the fan favorite! And when he re-enters the main story after Alma's death, he's more important than he's ever been, and his history with Alma continues to be a huge part of his character.

Katsura Hoshino took the much-beloved edgy toughguy character from her long-running shonen series and, after keeping his origins secret for such a long time, confirmed that his whole life has revolved around love this entire time. Almost every facet of his character can be traced back to his love for his lost best friend or his yearning for his past life's missing partner. And then she reveals that the best friend and the partner are one and the same.

You can go back and forth about the degree to which they work as representation, but in any case, I think their story is something people ought to know about. It's romantic and it's heart-wrenching and it's fucking wild, especially given the context in which it was published (a Shonen Jump spinoff in 2010). I never see anyone besides the few remaining hardcore dgm fans talk about them, and I think that's a shame.

So anyway, that's tale of one of the most insanity-inducing romances I've ever seen put to paper. I love queer people.

Here's some choice pages if you want to cry with me (the last two are a sequence):

[separatist-apologist]

I genuinly want to know what made her think like "the people gonna love this" when writing that baby killing plot 💀💀

I think she said it was wish fulfillment on her end. Her pregnancy was so difficult that she wished someone had kept the worst of it from her so she could just enjoy herself. And I can appreciate that so much- with my last baby there was a very real risk the placenta was going to detach and kill us both. I remember sitting in a doctors office listening to this and they were like, you need to be on ACTUAL bed rest, would you consider doing this in the hospital?

And I said no, swore (like a liar) that I'd do it at home, and then just kind of walked around with this fear of dying for the next six months. It was impossible to really enjoy the pregnancy, even when she was coming, because there was all this risk associated with it. I was doing weekly appointments for three straight months so they could look at my placenta, and once she was born, the placenta fell apart in pieces like it really did hold on for dear life right until the end which I appreciated.

So I empathize with SJM so deeply on that front. I wish that for me, too. I think the problem is that in a world that attempts to force childbearing on us, ESPECIALLY when its currently so dangerous in the US (the only perspective I can speak on) (and even more dangerous depending on your race/ethnicity and socioeconomic status), it reads like a nightmare straight out of a red state Senators wettest dream.

And one of my frustrations with SJM as an author is how she really doesn't examine what she's writing. So for her this is cathartic- Feyre is protected by Rhys the way she wishes she could have been, without considering that like...in the current climate where reproductive rights are being eroded and criminalized, this is a real fear a lot of people have- vital information being kept from them because all that matters is the baby even at the expense of the person carrying it.

I don't think it was her intention for it to come across that way. I think she wanted us to view Rhys as someone who loved Feyre so much he would do anything to save them both. But instead he comes across as someone willing to risk her life without even informing her of the danger so she can make an informed choice, and she only learns the truth in a heart wrenching moment between Feyre and Nesta that is so polarizing that people often blame NESTA for Feyre finding out the way she did.

So like- I understand her thought process...but having also read it, I just. Its not good.

[edwordsmyth]

"The essay is an embodiment of a more expansive intellectual labyrinth that haunts Western intellectuals. It characterizes the Palestinians as “necessary and inevitable victims,” rendering them visible only as archival footnotes in yet another efficacious settler colonial enterprise. Is it not curious, one might ask, that the very sympathy shown to Palestinians appears directly proportional to their perceived inability to confront the uniform machinery of settler colonialism? There is a hidden gratification in witnessing this tragic narrative from afar. Israel’s persistent upper hand serves as a powerful catalyst for Western intellectuals’ feel-good sympathy, a kind of pseudo-solidarity that whispers to Palestinians: “We are with you, but only so long as you remain tragic victims sinking graciously into your own abyss.” One might even argue that this sympathy is contingent upon the Palestinians’ maintenance of their tragic status quo.

There’s a safety in this for those intellectuals: the Palestinian experience, as heart-wrenching as it is, remains comfortably distant, a spectacle to be consumed. This pre-inscribed script becomes an eerie marker of the limitations of critical intellectual engagement with Palestine and the Palestinians.

As a result, when Palestinians dare to rebel and challenge their imposed fate after years of oppression, the responses are predictably schizophrenic. The same intellectuals who once sobbed at our plight are now torn. Many become moral policemen, quickly brandishing the baton of condemnation, but even more importantly, readily “adopting” with full intensity Israel’s curated and sensationalized version of the events of October 7 in the so-called Gaza envelope (the Israeli settlements bordering Gaza).

The collective voice, which once resonated with sympathy, now echoes with cautionary tales that warn against the wrath of the oppressed, which is barbaric, primordial, and awakens right-wing fascism.

The real paradox is in the mistaken understanding of how Zionist vengeance works — it doesn’t simply react to Palestinian actions, provocations, or even their capacity to invoke terror, but goes beyond the conventional realm of cause and effect and seeks to punish the audacity of mere Palestinian existence. Even a Palestinian like President Mahmoud Abbas, who allows Israel to continue expanding its settler colonies in the West Bank and serve its security and financial interests, is an affront to the settlers. All that the Palestinian Authority (PA) has received in return for its security and civil cooperation with Israel is financial sanctions and a hidden desire to get rid of Israel’s dependency on the PA’s security cooperation.

The Dahiya doctrine is evident in Gaza today. Israel has declared that any attack on it that it deems significant will result in the comprehensive destruction of both civil and governmental infrastructure, including bombing villages, cities, and towns back into the “stone age” through wholesale destruction. In other words, any form of resistance, regardless of the target, will be met with no less than a scorched earth policy from the air.

The world has sent a clear message to the Palestinians: there will be no legal respite, no political relief, only limited support for nonviolence, and occasional condemnations when and if Israel is perceived to commit crimes. In fact, there is violence in this insistence on nonviolence by the international community because it is effectively an invitation for Palestinians to lie down and die.

The various layers of Israel’s defensive structure include the geographic proximity of its military installations and its civilian settlements, including the wide presence of military-trained police forces in civilian areas. The wide ownership of guns, specifically in frontier areas like the Gaza envelope, would also be an important consideration for any military planning or offensive operation.

With the available information, we can surmise that the operation had three main tactical goals: capturing Israeli soldiers in exchange for prisoners, getting information or weapons from Israel’s many military bases, and making it hard for any police or military force to easily clear and retake the Gaza envelope (which they would probably do by negotiating over hostages they held in the settlements inside the Gaza envelope).

This meant that fighters set up camp inside Israeli settlements to try to delay the recapture of the envelope. They did this by fighting or negotiating for a long time to free the hostages while stopping civilians from resisting the deep maneuver within Israeli territory. The problem is that growing evidence shows that Israel wasn’t interested in negotiating over hostages and instead prioritized retaking the Gaza envelope by shelling its own settlements, killing the fighters, and perhaps leading to the death of its own civilians.

The Palestinian military strategy aimed to delay and postpone, while Israel’s strategy focused on the rapid recovery and reclamation of its territory. And it is highly unlikely that this policy did not at least exacerbate the extent of the civilian casualties. Numerous testimonies from Israeli survivors indicate that Israeli military and police units may not have exercised caution in the battles around the Gaza envelope. This evidence has encouraged a group of Israelis to write an open letter encouraging their fellow citizens to demand the truth of the events of October 7.

The primary difference, then, between when Israel commits its crimes against Palestinian civilians and when Palestinians do it stems from an international network that legitimizes, clarifies, and codifies the logic behind Israeli military actions. This gives it an appearance of respectability, even when the underlying rationale appears deeply flawed or seemingly justifies the large-scale killing of Palestinian civilians in Gaza.

Hamas can remain barbaric, and Israel can remain a strong “democratic and liberal” ally of the United States. The first engages in a mindless act of profane violence, while the second engages in calculated and methodical strikes, a sacred form of violence.

Not delving into the military logic of the attack exemplifies an aversion to confronting the reality of violence and the logics that animate it, an avoidance that is endemic among certain intellectuals. It’s not just about the refusal to bring these topics to light, but about what this refusal signifies about the problematics of dealing with the logic of Palestinian violence, especially in an environment that simply casts it as profane, detestable, and morally degraded.

Perhaps what is central to any moral judgment is that these judgments need to be rigorously subjected to evidence, especially when Israel refuses to share much of the evidence it has. Did Hamas issue orders for the killing of civilians, or was the killing of civilians an excess on the part of the fighters? How many of the Israelis were killed in the exchange of fire with fighters? Did the Israeli military effort to retake the Gaza envelope take into consideration the presence of Israeli civilians? These questions are important, not only because they will provide us with a clearer picture, but because the official Israeli version of events was employed to justify the Dresden-like air campaign against Gaza and the mass murder of Palestinians.

Why wouldn’t an assault on Israel’s primary nerve — its deterrence and military power — not lead to a humbling experience that might open new avenues for a new political solution? While such prospects seem distant in the heat of battle and in light of Israel’s genocidal intent, the actual battle on the ground is what will decide the future.

Skirting their political utility and military logic and confining them to mere “vengeance” ignores the fact that all wars and battles, no matter how horrific, bloody, and tragic, might ultimately create the space for new possibilities — even hopeful ones. This line of thinking also ignores the world as Palestinians experience and perceive it — that is, as long as Israelis live in this assured certainty of their all-encompassing power, the will to change the reality of the Palestinians will remain absent.

And even if the Palestinian resistance fails to snatch a relative victory in this battle, the alternative would have been a slow death.

This is the kind of genuine critical engagement with the Palestinian resistance that we require. It isn’t solely about Palestine’s stance against ethnic cleansing, or its own fight to reclaim Palestine — rather, it is a liberation movement with global resonance that represents a universal struggle.

Perhaps the perception that the events of October 7 were nothing more than an expression of intra-Palestinian necrosis is more an indication of what intellectuals secretly wish for us. But we in Palestine desire and fight for a world that includes us, and a world that includes everyone else. Mourn us if you want, or don’t. Condemn us, or don’t. It’s not like we have not heard the cries of condemnation before."

[hellohannie]

Hits Different | lc

“𝙝𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 ‘𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙞𝙩’𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪”

it was no secret that you had dated many people in your past. when you were with them, you believed you loved them and they loved you. when you broke up, you realized that they didn't truly love you. but you still believed that love was real. then, you met lee chan. when he broke up with you, you started to question if love truly did exist after all. part of the taylor swift x seventeen collection

♡ PLAYERS - lee chan x f.reader

♡ WORD COUNT - 7.5K

♡ TAGS - exes to lovers au, rockbandmember!chan, fluff, angst, alcohol use, mentions of one night stands, reader is bisexual, reader gets called sexist things (not by chan))

♡ INSPIRATION - Hits Different by Taylor Swift

♡ NOTES - guuyysss, i had the hardest time writing the mushy gushy scenes in this one and i have no idea whyyyy so please forgive me if they are cringy T_T anyways, i hope you enjoy this one!!

p.s thank you so much for all the kind comments on MA&THP! you are all so sweet!

You could feel the bass beat through your feet as you swayed on the elevated surface at the club. The lights formed a kaleidoscope of colors behind your closed eyelids as you swung your hips back and forth, stumbling a bit in your heeled boots. You were long past the point of being conscious of where your limbs were, heavily dependent on the boys around you to keep you upright. 

You felt a light squeeze on your hand, and you wrenched your eyes open to look down at Hansol who was standing on the ground in front of you, ready to catch you in case you pitched yourself off the stage in your drunken haze. 

“Are you ready to go?” The music was too loud to hear what he said, but you managed to make out the movement of his lips. 

“No!” you gasped, backing into Seungkwan, who tightened his grip on your hips. “I love this song!”

Hansol looked over your shoulder, having a wordless conversation with his friend. You felt Seungkwan sigh, his warm breath tickling your ear. “It’s alright, we’ll stay for one more,” he reassured you. You relaxed, allowing him to guide your bodies to the rhythm of the music. Hansol kept a grip on your hand, making a face when he caught your eyes. You laughed, looking past his shoulder at the crowd, when a blonde head caught your attention. 

The boy threw his head back to laugh, and you jolted. Was that…

“Chan?” you mumbled, standing still. 

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Seungkwan came to stand next to you, as Hansol turned around, trying to figure out what caused the anguished look on your face, but you paid them no mind. 

Your heart was racing. Chan was here. With another girl. It shocked you completely out of your daze, enough to where you started to focus on your surroundings again. That’s when you heard it. The speakers were blasting yours and Chan’s song. The song he would play in the car as you drove down the city streets at midnight. The song he would play after dinners in his apartment as you danced together in the kitchen. It was your song, and here he was, dancing to it with someone else. 

“I need to get down,” you choked out, squatting down to get off the stage.

“Y/N that’s not him,” Seungkwan was repeating frantically. He must’ve noticed what caught your eye. “That’s not Chan.” 

But you were past the point of listening. 

Hansol gripped your waist and helped you down, trying to steady you as you swayed on your feet. You shook his hands off and sped towards the exit, feeling too suffocated in the musty nightclub. 

You stumbled outside, chest heaving as you allowed the chill air to clean out your lungs and clear up your mind. 

That boy in there wasn’t Chan, but you didn’t feel relieved. Your intoxicated mind ran scenarios of Chan laughing like that with other girls. Scenarios of Chan with other girls. 

“Y/N,” Seungkwan grabbed you by your shoulders, forcing you to look at him. Hansol stood behind him, head bent over his phone, probably ordering an Uber. “That wasn’t him.”

“I know,” you nodded, arms clutching your stomach. Your mind just wouldn’t stop thinking. “Oh God, I’m gonna yak,” you groaned. Seungkwan’s arms retracted at lightning speed as you spun around, throwing up onto the street. Then, you stumbled back until your body hit the brick wall of the building, sliding down until you were sitting like a marionette doll on the concrete sidewalk, legs splayed out in front of you. Your head was throbbing and tears stung your eyes. You vaguely heard Hansol sigh and say “I’ll go get her some water.” They were used to this. After all, this wasn’t the first time you had made a scene like this at a club.

Seungkwan sat down next to you, gently guiding your head to rest on his shoulder and petting your hair. 

“I miss him,” you sobbed, pathetically, the melody of your song playing faintly from inside the club.  

“I know babe, I know.”

“Love is a lie,” you had once said to Seungkwan and Hansol after your first major break up, post high school graduation. Your boyfriend at the time did not want to pursue a long distance relationship, and since neither of you wanted to give up attending your dream universities, the relationship had met an inevitable end. 

You had moved on pretty quickly however, getting into a serious relationship with a girl in your sociology class freshman year of college. That was until she moved away junior year to join the national swimming team full time. 

“Love is a lie,” Seungkwan had said as you sat in his embrace, Hansol handing you a mug of comfort hot chocolate. You sniffled and nodded. Sure, your friends would tell you love was a lie, but you didn't really believe that. It was just something you said to get by. To help your heart move on.

It was a pattern from that point forward. You would meet someone you thought you loved more than your previous partner, then you’d break up for some unavoidable reason. Your best friends would assure you that your partner didn’t love you, that love was a lie. You’d mourn a bit, then move onto the next. After all, it’s easy to move on from something that wasn’t true love, especially when you believed that your real love was waiting for you somewhere. 

Then, you met Lee Chan. It was at a dive bar near your college town, where they held the annual battle of the bands. Hansol’s band was competing, and you and Seungkwan went, half for moral support and half to scout for post-graduation flings. 

“Oh my God,” you grumbled. “Just go talk to him instead of sitting here and drooling everywhere!”

Seungkwan squawked in indignation, “I am NOT drooling!” 

You rolled your eyes in disagreement.

“I can’t just go and ‘talk to him’,” his fingers formed air quotes. “He is so hot, and-”

“Totally your type,” you interrupted. 

“Exactly,” Seungkwan protested. “Which is why I know his type is not me.”

You glanced at your friend, who looked genuinely defeated, shoulders hunched forward and lips slightly pouting. You sighed, tossing back the rest of your drink before hopping off the stool and grabbing Seungkwan’s hand. 

“C’mon,” you tugged. “Let’s go.”

Seungkwan’s head shot up, eyeing you in confusion. “Go where?”

Now you were trying to pull Seungkwan off his chair with both hands. “We have 5 minutes until Hansol’s set, which means we have 5 minutes to get you a date with Mr. Total Hunk over there.”

Seungkwan was resisting, playing a game of tug of war with you. “Are you crazy?” he practically shrilled, drawing the attention of the people nearby. 

You looked over your shoulder to see that Seungkwan’s crush and his companion were both looking over in your direction, eyes alight in amusement. You whipped back around, stamping on Seungkwan’s foot to throw him off balance. “They are looking over here, stop embarrassing yourself,” you hissed. 

After taking a moment to compose yourselves, you once again yanked Seungkwan in the men’s direction, your friend following willingly this time. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N! And this,” you subtly tugged, “is Seungkwan.”

Your full attention was on the tall brunette Seungkwan was eyeing, trying to figure out if he was interested in your friend. 

“I’m Mingyu, this is Chan.” A large hand stretched out towards your friend first, and you smirked. Perfect. It seemed like Mingyu did swing that way, which meant it was time for you to leave, taking his friend with you. 

“You know, I am just so thirsty-” your breath hitched as you truly looked at the blonde boy for the first time that night. Oh no, he’s beautiful. 

The boy, Chan, smiled at you, a big grin showing perfectly white teeth. “I can get you something at the bar, my treat.” He stood as you nodded, utterly speechless. You shook yourself out of your stupor and followed him to the bar. No Y/N, you thought, you are taking a break from dating. Just distract him for Seungkwan, that’s it. 

“What would you like?” Chan leaned against the bar top, left arm propped on the counter. 

You hummed. “Surprise me.” You eyed him up and down as he rattled off an order to the bartender. It was clear this man knew how to dress, from the leather jacket that enhanced his broad shoulders and the white tank underneath that showed off his sharp collarbones, to the extremely ripped jeans that did nothing to hide his thick thighs-

You subtly fanned your warm cheeks, hand shooting down to your side when the boy turned back around.

“For you,” Chan handed you a clear drink. 

You took a sip and crinkled your nose. “Vodka soda, how creative,” you droned. 

“Well,” he shrugged, though it was so graceful you’re not quite sure if it could be called something so inelegant. “Guess you’ll have to stick by me so I can get you another drink later.”

You raised an eyebrow. Ok, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just flirt back a bit. 

“What makes you think I would want to be in your company for that long? If your drink of choice is any indication, you don’t seem all that interesting.”

Chan scoffed, bracing his hip against the counter as he crossed his arms. Your eyes shot to his biceps straining against the sleeves of his jacket before shooting back up to his face. A smug look took over his face. “Is being part of the town’s best band interesting enough for you?”

Ah, he’s one of those guys who’s in a band just to pick up girls. You were barely able to contain an irritated eye roll, choosing to fake an impressed look instead. 

“You’re in a band?” You cocked your head to the right, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind your left ear. The dangly earring you exposed laid gently against your skin, showing off the slope of your neck. You watched Chan’s eyes linger there before taking a gulp of his drink. You tried not to get entranced by the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. 

“Mhm,” he nodded in affirmation. “We’re competing tonight. You’ll vote me,” he leaned in closer, using the tip of his index to nudge your earring. “Won’t you Darling?”

If the fluttering of your heart at that moment made a noise, it would be similar to the tinkling of your earring, light and dreamy. As flustered as you were, you refused to let the cocky man in front of you know that. 

“I would,” you replied in a sing-song, “but…” You traced a finger along Chan’s (ridiculously) sharp jawline, applying a little pressure to turn his head towards the stage. “That band up there is my best friend’s band and considering they are running four years undefeated,” you gripped his chin, jerking his face back to yours. The two of you were so close together, the tips of your noses brushed against each other. “I’d say you should spend less time flirting for votes and more time worrying about your performance.”

Your words were cruel, you knew that, but you suddenly felt the need to defend Hansol and his bandmates. Especially from someone who didn’t seem to care about music, and rather chose to use it as a means to pick up dates. You expected Chan to feel so slighted that he’d step away from you, maybe hurl some not-so-kind words your way, then leave. Except, he didn’t do any of that. Instead, he glanced at your mouth, leaning his forehead against yours. “I think you underestimate me,” he whispered. His breath smelled like mint, warm as it tickled your lips. You were about to respond when a loud voice appeared behind Chan.

“Lee Chan, let’s go! It’s almost our set!” 

You jumped back, startled out of whatever bubble you and Chan had created around yourselves. It wasn’t clear to you if you should be cursing Mingyu for ruining the moment or thanking him. Chan on the other hand squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a disgruntled sigh. Clearly, he felt the former. You pinch the space between your thumb and index finger on your left hand, the pain a reminder that your heart could not handle another failed relationship. You were waiting for the right one, your forever person. There’s no way this man was them.   

By now, Mingyu and Seungkwan had made their way to your sides, the taller one grabbing his bandmate’s elbow. Chan had slipped the smug mask back onto his face. “Guess a bet is in order. If my band wins tonight, you let me take you out on a date.”

You crossed your arms, one eyebrow shooting up at the sheer audacity of this man in front of you. “And if you lose?”

Chan started walking backward, allowing Mingyu to tug him towards the stage. He shot you a smile, but this one was different from the ones he gave you every other time tonight. This one was not so perfect or staged. It was slightly crooked, the left side pushing deeper into his cheek than the right. It caused his eyes to glitter. “Don’t you worry your pretty little mind about that Darling. I won’t lose.”

Later that night, as you looked up at Chan on the stage, who winked at you as he held his trophy up in the air, you thought to yourself that maybe you wouldn’t mind if you got your heart broken by someone like him. At least you would’ve had the privilege of loving him.

You slip your sunglasses onto your face, laying back onto the beach towel, letting the sun rays warm your skin. You could hear the hollers of your friends from where they played in the water. It was a miserable day.

“Y/N c’mon! Come get in the water, it’s a beautiful day!” Soonyoung shouted.

You stayed laying down, simply lifting an arm to wave him off. They were trying so hard, your friends, to distract you from what the date signified, but you wished they’d just let you wallow in your misery. 

Suddenly, a shower of sand struck your face. You sputtered, shooting up into a sitting position as you scrubbed the sand off your glossed lips. 

“Seokmin!” You shrieked, ripping your sunglasses off so the exciting man standing over you could clearly see your glare. “What the hell?”

He was undeterred, gripping your forearm to pull you up. “Let’s go!”

“Where?” You allowed yourself to be pulled up, too depressed to put up a fight. 

“The ocean! We didn’t drive all this way just so you could create a Y/N sized dent in the sand.”

You huffed, dragging your feet along the sand as you followed Seokmin to join the rest of your group. The ocean water was chilly, but you were too distracted to notice. 

The last time you were at the beach, it was with Chan, just a month after your fourth anniversary. Chan’s band had successfully recorded their first demo and sent it off to recording agencies, and you brought him here to celebrate. Little did you know, that just two months after that, he’d be breaking up with you. It’s not your friends’ fault that they didn’t know. They thought they were doing a nice thing, bringing you to the beach to distract you from the fact that today would’ve been yours and Chan’s fifth anniversary. It’s not their fault that it was as if Chan had touched every corner of Korea, to the point where every place reminded you of him. 

A pinch to your waist snapped you out of your reverie. You slapped Jeonghan's hand before taking note of your surroundings. Somehow, you had waded your way deep enough into the ocean that the water was grazing the hem of your bikini top. 

“How kind of you to join us, Princess,” he quipped. You simply stuck your tongue out at him before splashing his face with water. 

“I wouldn’t make that face if I were you,” his voice took on a conspiratory tone. 

You shot him a confused look. “Why not?”

He jerked his chin in a direction just past your shoulder. “There’s a guy there who cannot take his eyes off you. Maybe a potential summer fling?” 

Jeonghan was the first person you ever had a one night stand with. You met him at a party during orientation week in university, and while you both had a good time, you both decided you'd be better off as friends. Soon after, Jeonghan found a long term boyfriend in Joshua, whereas you…well, let’s just say the couple was well versed in being your wingmen. Though, once you started dating Chan, Jeonghan and Joshua figured they could officially retire from their unofficial jobs, and so did you. Now, here Jeonghan was again, trying to find you another notch to add to your bedpost. 

You glanced just once over your shoulder at the man Jeonghan pointed at, giving him an awkward smile when he noticed your gaze and waved. You turned back around towards Jeonghan, giving him a doubtful look. “Seriously, you want to set me up with him? He looks like a Ken doll.”

“What, I thought you liked blondes?” Jeonghan laughed, teasing you further. “Or is it just the bleached ones?” 

Your mouth dropped open, dumfounded. Jeonghan’s eyes widened, as if just realizing what exactly it was that he said. “Y/N, I didn’t mean-”

“Not cool, Han. I thought you of all people would understand what it is I’m going through.” You didn’t stick around to hear a response, choosing to start making your way back to the beach instead. 

Jeonghan, like you, used to have a habit of sleeping around, switching out partners like dolls. Joshua was Jeonghan’s first real partner, so when you told him how you felt about Chan, he understood. Chan was not just any other partner, he was the love of your life, like Joshua was his. 

Tears began to sting at your eyes, blurring your vision so much that you didn’t see the person in front of you and ended up running right into his chest. You stumbled back, almost falling backwards into the water. 

“Woah,” hands grabbed at your elbows. “Sorry I thought you saw me.” It was the guy from earlier. Somewhere from the time you left the boys’ spot in the water to here, the guy had approached you. 

You swiped at the tears brimming your eyelids, “Sorry, I was lost in thought.”

“Is everything ok?” His hands stayed on your arms. “You’re crying.”

He leaned down to level his head with yours. You stepped out of his grip, having to jerk your arms back to make his grip loosen. “I’m good, thanks.” Your tone was clipped, but apparently the guy in front of you couldn’t (or didn’t) take the hint. 

He stepped closer. “Are you sure? Doesn’t seem like you’re ok? Maybe I can help?” The further you stepped back, the more he came forward. “I came over here because I thought…”

Shit, shit, shit. This guy was crowding in way too close to you, and you felt incredibly unsafe, but there wasn’t much you could do. You couldn’t run in the water, or swim fast enough away, and the faint voices of your friends were indication enough that they were not close enough to help you, let alone notice something was wrong. 

“...listening? Um…hello?” Your eyes snapped back to the man in front of you. “Were you listening?” It was clear from his expression that he was annoyed, the false kindness from before completely gone. You were in trouble.

You stuttered, “I…uh…sorry, I was-” 

The guy scoffed. “Of course, here I was trying to be a nice guy and check up on a cute girl that looked sad, but you zoned me out. Bitches like you like guys who treat you bad don’t you. Should’ve known from the way you’re dressed that you’re nothing more than a dirty-”

“Hey!” a hand slipped around your waist as two bodies appeared on either side of you. You sighed in relief. 

The guy in front you stepped back, eyeing the two men who interrupted. “Who are you guys?”

“I’m her boyfriend,” Wonwoo said, tugging you closer to his chest.

“And you are?” Jun asked, lazily. 

The guy in front of you was tall and broad, but not as tall and broad as Wonwoo or Jun. Clearly he noticed that as well, as he started to scurry backwards, away from your large group as the rest of your friends began to join. 

He started to laugh slowly, as if trying not to show that he was intimidated, but failing greatly. “All these guys,” he pointed at your circle of friends, “are your ‘friends’? I knew it, you are a whore.” 

Wonwoo took one menacing step forward, and it was all the guy needed to trip backwards into the water before quickly making his way onto the beach and away from you. 

Jun placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Are you ok, Y/N.”

You nodded, suddenly too exhausted to do much else. “I want to go home.”

Quickly, the boys began to run onto the beach and pack up all of your things to load the cars. You followed behind slowly. A few months ago, the beach filled you with happiness and a sense of freedom. Now, the sun felt like it was burning your skin, and the sand was scratching at the bottom of your feet. Who knew the absence of just one person could make an environment feel so different.

You whined as a hand snatched the red solo cup out of your hand, “Wasn’ done w’that.” You lifted your head off Jeonghan’s shoulder to give Seungkwan (what you hoped) was a glare. 

“Babe, there was nothing left in the cup anyways,” the former commented. “You’re wearing your drink.”

“Oh,” you responded, oh-so eloquently. 

By the time your group left the beach and made it back to the little cottage you had rented for the weekend, it was sunset time. Everyone quickly showered and set up a bonfire in the back. According to Seokmin, s'mores and alcohol were the best pick me ups. You had not wanted to join at first, still disoriented from your less that ideal experience with the guy from the beach. Jeonghan however had begged you to join, clearly very apologetic for unknowingly putting you in that position. After you had a few drinks in you, you had completely forgiven him, leading to your position now, half in his lap as you both squeezed into a lawn chair by the fire. 

“Here Y/N,” it was Joshua, handing you a well assembled s’more from the other side of Jeonghan. 

“Thanks Joshie,” you mumbled, while taking a bite. You stared at the burnt marshmallow as you chewed slowly, tears starting to stream down your cheeks. 

“Y/N! What’s wrong?” Soonyoung called from the opposite side of the circle. His voice caught the rest of the group’s attention and suddenly, everyone was fussing over you. 

“It’s just that…Channie liked his marshmallows burnt like this,” you had started full on sobbing. “I miss him!”

If you were even the slightest bit sober, you would’ve noticed the exasperated looks the boys sent one another. It was yet another event where you got drunk and started slurring Chan’s name. While the boys were sympathetic to your plight, it was only so long they could stand a fun night being brought down by broken-hearted crying. 

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, swiping at your face. “I’ll go inside. You guys can enjoy the rest of the night.”

“No, Y/N, it’s ok-” 

“Seriously,” you lightly shook off Jeonghan’s fingers that had circled your wrist as you stumbled onto your feet. “Good night everyone.”

A chorus of pitying ‘good nights’ followed you as you made your way into the house and to the room you shared with Seungkwan and Hansol. As you laid in bed begging the world to stop spinning, you had a sinking feeling that you would not be receiving any more invitations to go out. At least, not for the time being.

Let it be known that you and Chan did not break up for lack of love. Let it also be known that you didn’t see it coming because you both had loved each other so much.

It had been one of your regular weekly date nights, where you and Chan would eat dinner at your apartment and then watch a movie afterwards.  

Chan had been oddly silent that night, and you could tell something was bothering him. Still, you decided not to ask, knowing he’d confide in you if he chose to. What tipped you off that the issue must be serious was when he didn’t ask you to dance when the speaker played your song. 

“Channie,” you started, hesitantly. “Is everything ok?” At this point, you were sitting on the couch as he paced anxiously in front of you. “Here, come sit.” You grabbed his hand and guided him to sit next to you. 

Chan was silent for a long time, the clicking of the wall clock’s second hand indicating that it had been a full 30 seconds before he spoke. “My band signed a record deal.”

“Oh my God! Darling, that’s amazing!” You threw your hands around his neck, giving him a tight squeeze before kissing his cheek. “Which agency did you guys choose? SM, JYP…”

Chan mumbled under his breath. 

“Hm? I didn’t hear you.” 

Your smile started to fade when Chan reached up to unhook your arms from his neck, choosing to hold your hands in his lap. His thumbs drew circles on the back of them as he said again, “Republic Records.”

You bent your head to try and catch his eye. “Like Taylor Swift’s label, Republic Records?” 

He nodded, and said nothing else. 

“But, they are based in New York. How will you guys work with them from Korea?” 

No response. 

“Chan?” 

Still nothing. You were getting anxious.

“Lee Chan!” You ripped your hands away from him, forcing him to look up at you. Your breath hitched when you saw his red eyes, rimmed with tears. No, you thought, please don’t say-

“I have to move. To New York.” 

You knew it. 

You bolted up from the couch. “How…how could you make this decision without at least talking to me?” You were standing over him, screaming at the top of his head. Little dark spots started to stain the beige couch where Chan’s tears dripped. “Long distance relationships aren’t so easy that you can just decide without me!”

Chan looked up at you, cheeks glistening with tears. His breathing was shaky and uneven. He didn’t say anything, not even an apology. “We won’t do long distance.”

You felt your heart drop to your stomach. If Chan meant that as ‘we won’t do long distance because you’re coming with me’, he would’ve definitely told you about this before signing the contract. Which only meant one thing. 

“No,” you started to step back, away from him. “No, no, no, no. This can’t be happening to me. Not again.” You were vigorously shaking your head. 

“Y/N,” Chan was scrambling to his feet. 

“No! Don’t do this, please-”

Chan seized your shoulders and pulled you into his chest as you began to sob. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he kept repeating, as the two of you eventually sank to your knees. 

“Why? Why are you break-” you couldn’t say the word. “Why are you doing this,” you whispered, throat too sore to yell anymore. “Is it because I got upset? I didn’t mean to get angry, I support you, you know I support you.”

Chan pulled you away from his chest, cupping your face with both hands. “It’s not that. I know you support me. That’s why we have to do this. Break up.”

You heaved another sob. 

“Y/N, I love you. I love you so much, which is why I can say confidently that no one knows you like I do. You hate long distance relationships-”

“That was different!” You insisted, gripping his wrists as tight as you could. “I didn’t love him like I love you!”

“I know Darling,” he swiped at a tear with his thumb. “It’s because you love me more that long distance won’t work. You need consistency. You need someone who will combine Google calendars with you and stick to a schedule you create together. That’s the only way you’ll feel reassured that you truly have someone. I can’t give you that abroad. I can’t call or video chat with you at the same time every day. I can’t give you consistency. Long distance won’t sustain our relationship, it’ll just prolong our inevitable breakup.” He placed the most delicate kiss on the bridge of your nose. “It’s selfish, but I wanted to be able to cut it off while holding you, so I could tell you that this isn’t ending because we fell out of love. I wanted us to have a clean break.”

You were angry again, this time choosing to punch at his chest. “This is anything but clean! You think after you leave, I’ll just forget about you? That I’ll just move on, like this is a normal break up? How dare you leave me here alone, thinking I’d just get over you? You’re a jerk, Lee Chan!”

“Chan? Y/N? What’s going on?” It was Seungkwan with Hansol trailing behind, both wearing similar looks of confusion on their faces. 

Neither you nor Chan acknowledged them. “You won’t be alone. You have them.” He leaned in to place a singular kiss to your lips. That kiss would be forever ingrained in your mind. Your last kiss with Chan, one that tasted of salt and despair. “Take care of yourself, Darling.”

“No!” You started weeping again, desperately trying to grab onto Chan as he stood up and stepped away. 

“What the hell is happening?” Seungkwan demanded, sharp eyes pointed at Chan. He simply shook his head, as if saying sorry, before leaving. You could only see until he reached your doorway because by then, Seungkwan had fallen to his knees in front of you, blocking your view. 

Hansol followed Chan out the door, stopping him halfway down the hallway. 

“Chan, what happened? Why did you tell us to come here?” he asked rather calmly.

The boy in question turned to face his friend, eyes once again filling with tears. “We got signed by a record label in New York. I broke up with her.”

Hansol nodded just once. While he didn’t quite understand why Chan made the decision he did, Hansol knew that he didn’t do it to hurt you. In fact, this must be hurting him just as much as it was hurting you, if not more. “Good luck.”

Chan’s shoulders dropped visibly, as if he felt that he no longer needed to hold himself together. “Hansol, I know I’m probably not in a position to ask any favors from you but,” he cringed as another sob echoed down the hallway, “can you make sure she understands that I never lied to her when I told her I loved her?”

When Hansol made it back into the doorway of your apartment, he heard Seungkwan say, “Love is a lie.” 

You agreed like every time before, but Hansol could tell from your face that it was different this time. You really did believe it.

The warm summer air faded away to welcome the crisp autumn breeze, but that didn’t mean you weren’t still sweating buckets at the slightest amount of physical work. 

“Seungkwan, push!” 

“I’m trying, you little witch! I still don’t understand why you insist on jam packing suitcases with your winter clothes and sticking them in a storage room when you could just leave them in your closet!” 

Seungkwan had offered (read: been bribed) to help you switch out your warm weather clothes for your cold weather clothes. Unfortunately for you both, the elevator in your building was broken, leading to the two of you lugging suitcases up and down three flights of stairs. 

“Finally,” he grunted, flopping down on your couch once the last of your bags had been brought into your place. 

“Thank you, Kwannie,” you sang, voice extra sweet. 

He rolled his eyes fondly, “Yeah, whatever. You should be thankful Jihoon has been dragging me to the gym with him.” 

You giggled, moving to unzip one of the suitcases when Seungkwan’s phone rang, indicating that he had received a text message. 

“It’s Hansol. We are out of groceries, and God forbid someone sends him to the store alone. Once, I told him to bring home fruit and he brought back a bag of tomatoes insisting I should’ve been clearer. Who thinks of tomatoes first when someone mentions fruit?” Seungkwan ranted as he made his way to your door. “Anyways, I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N!” The door slammed shut. 

You were silently glad Seungkwan left so suddenly as you fully opened the suitcase in front of you. You had forgotten that this was the one filled with all of the clothes Chan left behind in your apartment, as well as your own that held memories connected to him. 

Placed right on top was a denim bucket hat that he used to wear when you both would go for bike rides along the river bank. Tears pricked your eyes, as you contemplated what to do. Hansol and Seungkwan would tell you to throw everything away, that keeping these items wouldn’t help you get over him any quicker.

You cursed as memories came flooding back. It had been nearly a year since he left, and you still couldn’t figure out why. You felt like there were so many options besides simply breaking it off. Hansol kept telling you what Chan told him, but you couldn’t believe it. If he loved you, truly loved you, then why did he leave?

You thought of the creases by his eyes when he smiled at you, his soft hair that brushed your cheeks when he kissed you. He believed that the world was inherently good, that people don’t do things for the sake of hurting others. He made you believe too. How could you have possibly guessed that that boy would shatter your heart beyond repair. 

You huffed, rushing to the bathroom to splash water on your face. You needed to stop crying over him. 

Over the sound of the sink, you thought you heard the lock twist on your front door. You turned the faucet off and paused, trying to listen for any more sounds. Nothing. You shrugged, patting your face with a towel. Great, guess I’m hearing things now. 

Then, another noise. This time, it was the door creaking open. 

“Seungkwan…?” you called out hesitantly. He was the only person who knew about the key under your mat. Well, except Hansol, but he makes it a point to not use it and bang on the door instead. 

“Seungkwan,” you repeated, louder this time. Still no response. Now you were scared. Quickly, you grabbed your curling iron from the sink, the long wire making it a great throwing weapon. 

You peaked your head out into the hallway, trying to catch a glimpse of the intruder. 

Blonde hair. Bleached, blonde hair. 

Warm brown eyes, staring right at you, as if this person knew the layout of your apartment.

Plump, pink lips quirked in a smirk and long fingers holding onto the keys you hid under the doormat. 

“Still haven’t moved these?” 

You dropped the curling iron onto the tiles, stepping out fully into the hallway. “Chan?” Great, now you were seeing things.

“Hi Darling,” he smiled that smile. The crooked one that made his eyes glitter. The one he reserved solely for you.

Your heart was racing and beating so hard you thought Chan would be able to hear it. One step. Then two, then three. Your feet were moving all on their own. Then an abrupt stop. Your brain took over. You can’t run at Chan and throw yourselves into his arms like you did before. Like he was yours. 

Chan’s lips pursed into a straight line when he noticed you stop. “Y/N-”

“What are you doing here?” You spoke, frantically. “You-You should be in New York.”

“I quit,” he responded, looking at you expectantly as if that should answer all your questions. 

You huffed out a laugh in disbelief. “You quit? Why?”

“I regretted my choice.” 

You blinked, at a loss for words. 

Chan’s eyes flickered to the open suitcase. He knelt down, gently running his fingers over his old hat. “You kept all of my things,” he said in awe. 

You bristled, angry that he believed you would be heartless enough to throw them out. Of course he thought that, he must’ve assumed you had moved on. Just like he must’ve. 

“I was about to trash them-”

“You still love me,” he looked up at you, light brown eyes twinkling with joy. 

You were caught off guard. “No, I don’t, I-”

Chan rose to his feet, starting to walk towards you. You stood in your place. “You kept my things because they remind you of us. Because you still love me. You never threw them out because you never got over me. You love me.” He was laughing now, eyes forming crescents on his face. Chan was standing barely two feet in front of you, but you moved your eyes to the ground. If you looked at him now, when he was standing so close, you’d kiss him, and you couldn’t do that because he wasn’t yours to kiss anymore. 

“It doesn’t matter how I feel,” your arms were wrapped around your torso, as if they were holding you together. “It doesn’t change the fact that you left.”

“And I’ve regretted it ever since,” he whispered. “There was a time when the greatest love in my life was my music. It was all that ran through my veins. It was what kept me feeling alive. Then, I met you. Darling-” his voice cracked, forcing you to look up. A lone tear slipped from Chan’s eye, but he didn’t wipe it away. Instead, he lifted his hands to cup your face so gently, as if you would disperse like a cloud if he squeezed too tight. 

“The more I knew you, the more I loved you, you became my music. My greatest love. You kept me feeling alive, but I didn’t realize it until I left. I thought I was doing the right thing, leaving you behind, but I was wrong. I should’ve never let you go,” his hands began to slip. “I know I have no right to ask for a second chance but-”

You grabbed his wrists and pressed your lips to his, cutting off his words. You tasted salt, and it reminded you of the last time you had ever kissed him. Your eyes began to burn, and soon you were both crying softly as you kissed.

“I forgive you,” you mumbled, lips brushing his as you spoke. “You deserve a second chance. You taught me love is true.” Your foreheads touched. Chan wiped your tears with his thumbs as you spoke. “All those heartbreaks led me to you, my one real love.”   

You made a strangled noise of surprise when Chan’s arms circled your waist and picked you off the ground. “I love you, fuck, I love you.” You giggled into his kiss, legs wrapping around his waist as he stumbled over to the couch, falling onto it with you sitting on his lap. 

You kissed and kissed, the feeling of familiarity and love settling comfortably in your heart. When the two of you eventually pulled away, it was to catch your breath. You ran a hand through his soft hair as Chan brought your other hand to his lips, brushing gentle kisses over your knuckles. 

“Missed you,” he mumbled. “Missed your voice and your eyes,” he raised his head to look at you. 

“Your hair,” he tucked a lock of it behind your ear.

“The smell of your perfume,” he leaned in to press a kiss to your neck, then trailed his nose along the slope of it until he could whisper into your ear.

“Your body,” he nipped at your ear lobe. 

“Channie!” you squealed, pushing at his chest. He fell back with ease, his loud laughter echoing throughout your apartment. 

“Even missed that, the way you say my name.” Your stomach fluttered like it was filled with butterflies. Only he could be so shamelessly flirtatious one minute and so devastatingly sweet the next. 

You laid your head on Chan’s chest, his heartbeat playing a soothing sound to your ears. “What now?” You asked as his hands gently rubbed your back. 

“What do you mean?”

“What are you going to do now that you left New York? What about your band and your music?” To be honest, you felt a bit worried. If Chan’s future was ruined because of you, you’d never get over the guilt. 

You felt lips pressing against the crown of your head. “There’s no need to worry your pretty little mind about that Darling. Turns out there’s a pretty successful band in the area that’s looking for some new members. Mingyu even came back with me because of it.”

It was his sly tone that made you sit up straight and give Chan a skeptical look. “Really…what band?”

He smirked.

You were sitting at a table in the familiar dive bar with Seungkwan, having a serious case of deja vu. “Why can’t you talk to him this time?”

“Because Y/N,” Seungkwan snarked, “you weren’t the only one left behind. Mingyu had the nerve to leave for New York without even saying goodbye, and then doesn’t even have the decency to let me know he’s back? I refuse to go back to such an inconsiderate, unmindful, callous-”

“He’s staring at you like a kicked puppy.”

Seungkwan chanced a look over his shoulder, sighing when he saw the hopeful smile sent his way. “He is pretty cute isn’t he? Maybe I’ve made him sweat enough.”

You nodded, amused. 

Seungkwan groaned before tossing back the rest of his drink. “God,” he looked up at the ceiling of the building, “I am NOT your strongest soldier.” Then, he hopped off the stool and strolled towards Mingyu, who was visibly perking up with every step taken his way.

You were giggling at the scene when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned to see a cup being held out to you. You raised an eyebrow before accepting the orange drink and taking a sip. “A Mai Tai? Looks like your drink orders are getting a lot more creative.”

 A flirty smile. “Told you I’d get you another drink if you stuck with me.”

You laughed loudly before pulling your boyfriend in for a kiss.

Tonight was the night of your town’s annual battle of the bands and you’d been reminiscing the whole time. After all, this dingy little bar held all the memories of the first time you met Chan. This was where it had all started, and it seemed that Chan was insistent on replicating those memories.  

“You know, my band is competing tonight. You’ll vote for me,” he smiled wide, “won’t you Darling?”

You put on a thoughtful expression, trying your hardest not to break character. “Well… I heard the band up there right now is this year’s defending champion,” you traced a finger along Chan’s jawline. “I’d say you should spend less time flirting for votes and more time worrying about your performance.”

“Yeah?” Chan leaned into your ear, his soft hair tickling your cheek. “How about a bet? If we win, you’ll spend the rest of your life with me.”

You turned your head to face him, your nose bumping his. “And if you lose?”

Chan smiled, hands resting on your waist as he brushed his lips against yours. “I have my good luck charm right here. Just like last time, I won’t lose.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh before clutching the front of Chan’s shirt with your fingers and pulling him in for a searing kiss. He tasted like alcohol and home.

“Lee Chan, quit making out with my best friend and get over here! We’re next!” Hansol yelled from halfway across the bar. 

You pulled away, proud to see that Chan’s cheeks were just as flushed as yours probably were. “Good luck, my love,” you placed one last peck to his soft hips. 

“Don’t forget the bet,” he called as he walked away, smiling a real, crooked, smile.

Later that night, as you looked up at Chan on the stage, who winked at you as he (once again) held his trophy up in the air, you thought to yourself that you truly didn’t mind that you got your heart broken by him. It led to this moment and now, you were looking forward to spending forever loving him.

[ciaossu-imagines]

Okay, but as any long-time reader of this blog knows, I’m a huge fan of polyships! I chose my favourite polyship for Welcome to Demon School, Iruma-kun, which is Balam/Reader/Kalego, and hope you all enjoy the headcanons, based off this prompt!

Who’s the cuddler?

Okay, but it’s obviously Balam. Kalego is not a physically demonstrative man, not even in private. That’s not to say he’ll never show you any physical affection, just that it’s not a common thing for him. Balam, on the other hand, is very physically affectionate and craves physical closeness with people. In any relationship, he’s going to up that ante even more and physical affection, both in public and in private, will be a huge thing for him.

Who makes the bed?

I feel like Kalego does. He likes it if either you or Balam offer to help it, because it goes quicker but he’s definitely the one whose first thought after getting up is to make the bed. He not only appreciates but almost needs a clean, neat space to live in.

Who wakes up first?

Both Kalego and Balam are early risers. It will switch every now and then as to which one of them wakes up first but it’s almost guaranteed that unless you’re an extremely early riser, both men are typically awake before you.

Who has the weird taste in music?

It’s gotta be you. Balam does appreciate music but honestly doesn’t listen to a lot of it. Kalego’s tastes in music are very limited, and he prefers classical or instrumental pieces.

Who is more protective?

While both of them will be protective of their loved ones, Shichirou tends to be more aggressive and open in his protectiveness, with lectures if you put yourself in danger and downright bloodlust towards anyone aiming to hurt you. Kalego is more low-key in his protectiveness and does his best to trust that you can handle yourself, almost letting you test how much you can handle in terms of danger, but he’s actually probably the more protective of the two of them. It’s just that he’s quieter about it.

Who sings in the shower?

It’s Balam and boy, is he horrible at it. Does he love doing it? Yep. Does he kind of sound like a strangled duck while doing it? Also yep.

Who cries during movies?

It depends on what happened in the movie. While he rarely outright cries, Balam’s eyes will definitely mist up if an animal dies or is abused on screen. It makes him sad and just a little angry. For anything else or for outright crying, it would have to be you, if you do. Kalego rarely watches any movies and even during the most heart wrenching of moments in the ones he will watch, he can remain stoic and stone-faced.

Who spends the most while out shopping?

It depends on if Kalego is with them. He’s not miserly but he is very good at budgeting and setting limits on what’s spent while out on a shopping trip and he’ll keep both you and Balam to those limits as well. This especially applies if all three of you are living together because Kalego will kind of naturally become the one in charge of keeping track of all the financials for the household and will know exactly what can be spent without hurting the household financially.

Who kisses more roughly?

It’s Balam, but he genuinely doesn’t mean to. He wants to be soft and gentle, and he tries really hard to be. It’s just that kissing is a bit rough with his facial deformity to begin with and, even when he is careful about his extreme strength, he can tend to forget himself in the happiness of that physical affection.

Who is more dominant?

It’s Kalego, bar none. While Balam can be dominant at times, especially if he knows his partner is into that, he does hold back a lot because of his strength and is just as happy to let you take the reins. Kalego, however, is a bit of a control freak in his daily life and that tends to extend to his relationships a bit too, sometimes to the detriment of the relationship.

My rating of the ship from 1-10?

10 out of 10, would recommend. I love both of these men so much and would happily become a bigamist to have a happy, odd little marriage with these two!