#my biggest issue is him letting all his friends think he was DEAD for so long

[knucklesbruised]

CANON DIVERGENCY RE: LEO. this all might change if my feelings toward them do when i finally stop being lazy and read the trials of a/pollo, but until then: i'm not the biggest fan of leo and calypso as a couple, so that's not a thing. he still landed on her island, he still came back to rescue her at the end of the book, but he didn't vanish for months without telling his friends. as soon as he could, he sent out an iris message to jason and piper, letting them know that he was okay and alive, because i refuse to believe he'd let them think he was dead for so long. he had no romantic feelings toward calypso, but he did care about her, so of course he figured out a way to come back and get her off her island, but their relationship ends there, other than just... friendship.

[godslino]

MIGRATION | bang chan first date series. strangers to lovers.

pairing: bang chan x fem!reader word count: 5.5k genre: fluff, romance, falling in love at first sight summary: you've never been lucky when it comes to dating, but a blind date with chan just might turn that around

chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin · · · ♡ series masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡

author’s note: hello and welcome to my first date series!! i seriously had so much fun writing this and i’m so excited to continue with the other members. i hope you all enjoy! if you liked it, please remember that any and all feedback is appreciated!! happy reading <3

“So…I know a guy.”

You groan, throwing your head back against the cushion of the booth you’re currently shoved into. Changbin drops his fork to gesture at you with his hand, a look of exasperation on his face.

“Come on, I haven’t even said anything yet!”

“The problem is that you’ve said anything at all.” You say, glaring at him as you reach for your drink.

Changbin, as much as you love him, is notorious for being the worst wing man in the history of wing men. His most recent pick, Jooyoung, was a friend of his from high school. A freelance writer, the owner of a snazzy apartment in one of the more sophisticated districts of Seoul, and conveniently single. They’d recently reconnected after a mutual friend threw a party that they both went to, and he was ecstatic to try and set the two of you up.

You’d been reluctant, rightfully so, but Changbin is anything but a quitter and you also just so happen to be the world’s biggest pushover (his pout is just too good, okay?), so you’d agreed on the off chance that it just might work out.

Long story short, it didn’t.

Jooyoung was probably the biggest asshole you’d ever been on a date with. Not that you were surprised, though. Changbin’s circle of friends when he was younger mainly consisted of grade-A douchebags who were born with a golden spoon in their mouths. Perks of being born into a wealthy family and attending one of the most elite private schools in the country, apparently. Changbin had attended a university on the outskirts of Seoul for a reason. Lesser known, laid back—to study music of all things—and the sole reason for his father’s headache, as he’d put it. That’s where he met you.

“Okay, but I think this guy might be the one.” He makes air quotes around the two words, and you scoff as you cross your arms.

“And what would you know about that?”

“Um, a lot? You’re my best friend, I know exactly what you’re looking for.”

This is the part where things go south—or so you assume. Changbin puts on the puppy eyes, jutting his bottom lip out to hell as he stares at you from across the table. You glare at him dead on, unwavering. He won’t get you this time. Not over your dead body.

“At least let me tell you about him?”

“No.”

“I met him at the company. He makes music just like me, only slightly better. And you know how I am, I don’t just say that stuff. That means he’s really good.”

Choosing to ignore him, you go back to poking at your noodles.

“He’s from Australia. Born here, moved there when he was young, then moved back to pursue music. Kinda ballsy if you ask me. But he speaks English, so at least communication won’t be as much of an issue as other guys.”

A small crack in your composure. The idea of this guy growing up somewhere other than Korea is…pretty intriguing.

Despite moving here three years ago for school, it’s still kind of hard to communicate when your Korean could be more polished than it is. You’d basically kept to yourself for the first year until you met Changbin. He’d easily integrated you into his group of other music majors, even though you stuck out like a sore thumb as both a foreigner and a stem major. But if it weren’t for him, you think that you might’ve hauled ass back home a long time ago due to the isolation. So to be introduced to someone who can speak english, under the prospect of possibly dating them, sparks a bit more interest.

Changbin notices the slight twitch of your brow and smirks, one side of his mouth pulling downwards. Bastard.

“Hmm, what else? Oh! Dude’s got a killer set of dimples. You’re into that, aren’t you? You used to go on and on about that younger guy in your physics class during senior year. What was his name—Jeongsuk? Jeong—Jinyoung? Jeongin! It was Jeongin.” Changbin snaps his fingers like he’s impressed with his own memory, pointing at you as you fix him with a blank stare. “He has dimplessss.” He sing-songs for emphasis.

And, really, this should not be the breaking point. You’re better than this. You’re not so shallow that you would throw away your pride for a man you’ve never met—let alone never seen before—all because he has dimples.

But, once again, you’re a pushover. A big one. So yeah, fuck it.

“What’s his name?”

Changbin blinks like he wasn’t expecting you to fall for it. “Seriously? That’s what got you?”

“You have five seconds to tell me his name before I change my mind.”

He scoffs, mouth agape. “I went as far as disregarding my own talents to play up this guy and his music making abilities—”

“Five.”

“—tried to give you a little bit of a backstory, too—”

“Four.”

“—and the dimples are the final nail in the coffin?”

“Three.”

“Chan! His name is Chan. God. Just—stop counting. It freaks me out.”

Chan. You throw the name around in your brain for a bit, pointedly ignoring the way Changbin is whining about how you sound like his mother when you do the whole number thing. It’s kind of…cute. Not enough to conjure up an idea of what he might look like, but putting a name to a faceless stranger with dimples in your head is gonna have to do for now.

“You swear this guy is normal?”

Changbin rolls his eyes. “Define normal.”

“Okay, let me rephrase myself,” you push your plate forward, laying your forearms on the table as an indicator that you’re serious, “Is he an asshole?”

“No.”

“Hm. Okay. So that’s a maybe.”

“What the fuck? I just said no.”

“Yeah? You also set me up with Jooyoung, remember? The guy who literally started flirting with the waitress right in front of me five minutes into our date? And then proceeded to yell at her when his fries weren’t salted?”

“How was I supposed to know…” Changbin mumbles, looking off to the side guiltily.

“Nevermind. Just—if this goes bad, I’m blaming you. And then I’m never going on a blind date with one of your friends again. Matter of fact, I’m never going on a date again, period. Deal?”

Changbin grins, the apples of his cheeks shiny under the restaurant lighting. He holds his hand out for you to shake, and you take it hesitantly, grimacing when he uses his strength to jostle your arm like a ragdoll.

“Deal.”

🎥🍿

Any hope you had for the date going smoothly starts to dwindle once Chan texts you the day of.

You’d gotten his number from Changbin, who had so kindly already given Chan your number before he’d even broached the subject with you. The resulting lecture about privacy and consent may or may not have extended the rest of your time at the restaurant, a sheepish Changbin rubbing at the back of his neck while you berated him for his lack of common sense.

When your phone buzzes on your bathroom counter, Chan’s name flashing across the screen, you mistakenly think that he might be messaging because he’s early. Which, given the fact that you were standing in nothing but a towel, hair still wet from your shower and face covered in moisturizer you hadn’t rubbed into your skin yet, would be less than ideal.

Chan [12:32p.m.]

Hey! I’m really sorry to have to do this, but can we push the date back an hour?

Something came up at the studio

I tried to get out of it but I have a deadline to meet, client probably won’t be too happy of their track isn’t done on time

Great. Already off to a rough start.

In his defense though, you appreciate the fact that he’s messaged a whopping two hours in advance. Most people probably wouldn’t be bothered to allow that much of a grace period.

You [2:33p.m.]

no worries!!!

you didn’t buy the tickets yet, did you?

Chan [2:34p.m.]

Nope! So we should be fine

I’ll purchase them for 6 and then be there to scoop you up around 5:30 if that’s cool?

You [2:36p.m.]

sounds perfect

hope stuff goes well at the studio!!

Chan [2:40p.m.]

You’re sweet

Thank you, I’ll see you soon :)

You’re sweet. You stare at the words on the screen, your brain buffering for a moment. A big fat loading circle floating above your head.

Suddenly it’s way too hot in the bathroom. You blame the fact that you shower with the water cranked all the way up to boiling, because really there’s no other explanation for the warmth spreading throughout your cheeks.

To be fair, it’s been almost a year now since you’ve had any sort of positive interaction with another male. On one hand, your last relationship ended in a ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ ordeal that most definitely gave the impression that it was you. On the other hand, most of the dates you’ve been on have ruined themselves within the first five minutes, never really giving you the chance to feel any sort of connection. Cocky attitudes, overly pushy encounters, and even someone who walked into the cafe you were seated at, took one look at you, and walked right back out. That one still hurts.

It’s a little sad that Chan is the only guy out of the mix whose elicited any sort of reaction out of you. Especially since you haven’t even met him yet.

The extra hour that you have to compensate for flies by a lot quicker than you expect, and before you know it Chan is messaging that he’s five minutes away.

You take one last glance in the mirror: a pair of light wash jeans that sit right above your hips, black halter top bodysuit, and a thin cream colored cardigan to tie it all together. Simple and cute. A movie date doesn’t really call for all the dramatics, and you’d hate to overdress for a first impression.

You’re in the middle of reapplying your chapstick when the doorbell rings.

Take it easy, you say to yourself, inhaling deeply as you reach for the door handle. You let the air out with one final huff, swinging the door open only to be met by a bouquet of daisies directly in front of your face.

You blink in surprise. Well that’s a first. Before you get a chance to speak, the bouquet is being lowered, and the moment Chan’s face comes into view causes a small gasp to fall from your lips.

He’s…cute. Beautiful, even. A bright smile, dimples that tuck themselves into his laugh lines as his eyes disappear into crescents much like the moon, and lips that make your head spin when his tongue darts out to wet them nervously. His hair falls messily across his forehead in a faded hue of purple with hints of brown, definitely unconventional and an obvious result of one too many washes, but he makes it work. He makes it work well.

He clears his throat, brings a fist up to his mouth to emphasize it, and then grins. “Hi there.”

It takes a second for your brain to catch up. Even his voice is attractive. He’s using english, which leads you to assume that Changbin has already told him that you’re not from here. His accent is there, not too noticeable but also strong enough to be picked up on.

“Hey.” You smile, rubbing a hand up and down your arm.

“These are for you. I, uh, as an apology for being late. Is it too much?”

You shake your head quickly. “No! No, these are—they’re beautiful. I love them. Thank you…Chan.” His name rolls off your tongue hesitantly, but it all disappears as soon as he flashes that smile again.

“Good, I’m glad,” his voice catches the breathy end of the laugh he lets out, “This is weird, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I don’t really do well with this kind of stuff. But you look really nice, and I’m excited. My car is parked just out front if you’re ready to go.”

Honest. Awkward. A laugh that makes you want to hear it over and over again. You were sold the minute his eyes met yours. Chan offers his elbow for you to take like you’re in some cheesy romance movie from your childhood.

Yeah. This one is definitely gonna go well.

🎥🍿

Chan might not show it, but he’s just as nervous as you are.

You wouldn’t be able to tell at first glance that he spent an entire forty-five minutes deciding on an outfit, only to settle with some jeans and a white shirt, a jacket thrown on top for some color.

When Changbin first proposed the idea of going on a date with you, he was adamant that he wasn’t looking for anything right now. But as soon as you opened the door, eyes wide and looking like the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, he’s glad he said yes.

“So what movie are we seeing?” you ask, frowning when Chan laughs. “What? What’s funny?”

“It’s a surprise.” He smiles, rushing forward to hold the door of the car open for you. When he puts his hand against the top part to block your head, you have to suppress the smattering of butterfly wings that start to clamor against your ribcage.

Chan is sweet. He double checks that you’re buckled in before driving off, he asks if there’s any specific music you want to listen to before foregoing it all entirely to ask about you instead, he listens with an attentiveness that has you feeling seen and heard, and he smiles with such genuinity and warmth that you feel cold once it disappears. You stare at him in awe, like he’s a figment of your imagination.

Chan’s been staring back, too. He spares glances in your direction when you’re not looking, feels the steady thump of his heart gradually increase whenever you lean a little too far to the left when he makes you laugh, and he thinks your voice is prettier than anything that’s ever played on the radio.

You learn more about him as he drives. He moved back from Australia when he was seventeen, he’s got two younger siblings and an adorable puppy named Berry back home (and pictures on his dashboard to prove it), he prefers Australia’s summers over Seoul’s winters but he finds more inspiration here in the city than anywhere else. You resonate with the fact that he doesn’t really have anyone here besides a small circle of friends. No family, no one to fall back on when things get tough.

Chan talks like he’s an old friend, like he’s re-telling a story you’ve heard a thousand times. He makes it easy to fall into step with him as if you’ve been here all along.

By the time the two of you get to the movie theater, the initial awkwardness that had hung in the air is gone, replaced by comfort and ease. Chan throws the car in park and all but books it out of his seat to open your door for you, and you giggle when he makes a dramatic bow as you exit.

The theater is kind of busy for a Thursday night. There are families with their kids lined up to get tickets and groups of teenagers at the concessions, all of which make for a crowded lobby. Chan glances down when you place a hand on his arm, mostly because you want to stay close, but also because it’s hard to ignore the feeling of being magnetized towards him. He smiles, bending at the elbow to allow your arm to slip into his.

There are cardboard cutouts along the sides of the lobby, all of which serve to promote the newest animated release about a family of ducks. You squint at the showtimes once the two of you make it to the front of the counter, letting your eyes scan the movie titles until you finally land on—

“Two tickets for Migration, under Bang Chan.”

The girl behind the counter looks up, her eyes bored. She can’t be any older than sixteen, most likely resentful about the fact that she’s stuck here on a school night. “The kids movie?” She asks, unimpressed.

Chan braves a glance in your direction and—ah, there goes that grin again. Cue the butterflies. You’d agree to a three hour long showing of static and white noise if it meant he’d never stop doing that.

“Yup, that’s the one.”

Tickets in hand, a smiling Chan right next to you, and a massive line for popcorn that honestly might have the two of you late for the previews. “We’re seeing a kids movie?” You ask, moving up a spot in the line.

“Mmhm. I spent so long looking at all the options. The romcoms seemed boring, Bin mentioned that the newest superhero movie was bad, and I figured a scary one was too cliché,” he eyes you sidelong, “Unless you’re into that.”

You huff out a laugh, not really expecting him to be so straightforward, “I definitely am not.”

“Hm, so the old yawn to put my arm around you trick won’t work?” His eyes are playful, but something about the idea of being in even more contact with him has your stomach doing flips.

“Nope. Sorry. Seen that one before.” You say, making him laugh, his earring dangling when he drops his chin towards his chest.

“I guess I’ll have to figure out something else then.”

Another thing you learn about Chan is that he enjoys interesting food combinations.

“You like peanut m&ms?” he asks, throwing a bag of them onto the counter when you nod your head. After he pays, he pockets his wallet and turns to you with a bucket of popcorn tucked under his arm and a large drink with two straws in his hand. “Could you grab the candy?”

First door, theater one. There are a bunch of parents and their kids entering ahead of you, all of them buzzing with excitement. It’s a little funny, the fact that two grown adults—no kid in tow—are walking into the showing of a kids movie.

Chan leads you to the very back row. “For the kids, just in case they can’t see over us.” He quickly clarifies after noticing the way your eyebrows shoot up in silent question, but even in the dim lighting you can still see the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Taking me to a kids movie and then propositioning me in the presence of five year olds? You’ve got some nerve.” You say, timing it perfectly as Chan is leaning forward to take a sip of the drink that’s placed in the cupholder between the two of you. He sputters around the straw in surprise, coughing into his fist.

“That’s not—” You laugh, cutting him off as he stares at you with red eyes from his coughing fit. The mood shifts after that, and Chan visibly relaxes into his seat as he starts throwing jokes out a lot easier than before.

“Learned this from my dad,” he says, opening the bag of m&ms, “It’s my favorite thing to do at the movies. Haven’t been in a while because—well, I don’t really have anyone to go with.”

You watch as he dumps the candy into the popcorn bucket, shaking it to mix everything together. He reaches in to grab a piece of popcorn and an m&m at the same time, popping it into his mouth.

“Oh my god,” he sighs, slumping into his seat, “Forgot how good that is.”

When you don’t respond, he looks over. “You okay?”

Are you? You’re not sure. Every bone in your body is screaming bloody murder because Chan is making it really hard to not want to lean over and kiss the concerned frown off of his stupidly pretty face.

The thing about it is that you don’t do blind dates. And you most especially don’t enjoy them. But Chan is different. Chan holds doors open for you and makes corny jokes. Chan laughs at everything like it’s his last day on earth and he’s making up for lost time. Chan listens when you talk and responds with genuine interest. Chan compliments the little girl in the theater lobby who’s wearing a princess dress to watch the new superhero movie. Chan shares something as special as his dad’s favorite movie snack with you. Chan is just…Chan. And you like him. A lot.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, I’m just—thank you. For sharing that with me.” You say, the corners of your mouth lifting.

“Stop doing that.” He mumbles, eyes trained ahead.

“Doing what?”

“Smiling. It makes my head spin.”

Your heart slams against your chest. You’ve spent the entire date trying to make sense of the way Chan makes you feel, trying to put it all into words. Yet here he is, right in front of you, saying his thoughts as they come and absolutely ruining your resolve in the process. Like it’s easy for him.

There’s no time to answer when the lights go down, the screen up front widening to signal the start of the movie.

Just like any other kids movie, it’s easy to get caught up in all the surface level jokes while also understanding the themes. You and Chan laugh outwardly at some parts, hold your breath at the suspenseful ones. It’s almost like you’re a kid again, enjoying yourself fully for the first time in a really, really long while.

Chan was right, the popcorn and m&m combination is good. You reach back into the bucket for more, freezing when Chan does the same and his knuckles brush yours in the slightest of touches, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. It happens a few more times, each one leaving his hand lingering for far longer than the last, until eventually he makes a show of digging really hard for an m&m and hooks his pinky with yours in between the popcorn. It’s cheesy and cliché but god does it make your stomach do somersaults.

About three-quarters of the way through the movie, when it’s clear that neither one of you are willing to take it the next step further, you lean into his ear.

“You okay? You look kind of tired.”

Chan turns, confused. He’s certain that he wasn’t dozing off. He did have a late night last night. He was up working on the track that still somehow managed to hold him back today, hoping to have everything polished so that he didn’t run into any obstacles before your date. But that didn’t really work out in the end.

“Huh? No, I’m fine. Honest.”

“You sure?” you ask, a slight lift to your voice, “I don’t know, you looked like you were about to yawn.”

The light from the movie hits the left side of his face, illuminating all of his features in a way that makes your breath hitch. He’s pretty. So, so pretty.

Chan blinks, slow, and then his confusion slowly turns to one of understanding. Cue the grin.

“You know, now that I’m thinking about it…I am kind of tired.” He makes a show of fake yawning, stretches his arms above his head (and not blocking any children since you’re in the back row, thankfully), before bringing his right arm down and around your shoulders.

You spend the rest of the movie like that, tucked into Chan’s side while his fingers move gently against your shoulder. He’s unbelievably warm, and eventually you find your head resting in the spot just between his shoulder and his neck, his cheek pushed up against the side of your head. The position makes it easier to reach up and pat his eyes dry at the end, a single tear slipping out as he sniffled and mumbles a ‘M’not crying’ that has you giggling and doting all over him.

He doesn’t move his arm for the entire walk back to the car, and you momentarily mourn the loss when he opens the door for you (again!) so you can climb in. When he finally gets in on the other side, he says nothing, just reaches over to intertwine his fingers with yours and places your joined hands on the center console like it’s something you’ve done a thousand times.

“Ready to go home?” He asks, looking over at you.

You glance down at your hands, then back up at him. “Is it weird if I say no?”

“Not at all,” Chan grins, throwing the car into drive, “I was hoping you would say that.”

🎥🍿

“For you.”

Chan plops down on the bench, a hand outstretched with a steaming hot chocolate ready for you to take.

“Thanks,” you smile, cradling the cup between your hands.

After some deliberation, you and Chan had decided to come to the Han River. It’s quiet, the bridge lights reflecting off the water as the sounds of the city fade into the background. The temperature is slightly on the colder side, the tail end of winter just barely there. When he notices the slight shiver of your shoulders after a particularly strong gust of wind, Chan shucks his jacket off in a heartbeat to drape over you.

“Oh, you don’t—”

“You’re cold,” he scolds, pulling at the collar of the jacket to tighten it around you. His hand lingers near the base of your neck, fingers itching to reach out and touch. He doesn’t though, just smiles and settles back into the bench. “Plus I think Changbin might actually kill me if something were to happen to you.”

“Oh please,” you roll your eyes, “Ignore him. I’m not a baby.”

Chan takes a sip of his own hot chocolate, licks his lips to catch the excess. Not that you’re staring. “I’m serious. I mean, I get it. He told me that you’re here alone and stuff.”

You hum in understanding, turning your head to stare out at the water. “So are you.”

It’s Chan’s turn to look at you now, his elbows resting against his knees, and you watch out of the corner of your eye as his face turns unreadable.

The silence stretches thin, nothing but the sound of cars passing and a dog barking nearby. It’s kind of comforting in a way. Being on your own in a new place has been one of the hardest transitions you’ve ever had to deal with. There were times where it felt like a mistake, where you wished that you’d never even gotten on the plane. But then there were times where you felt lucky to be experiencing the things you are; to be able to try new things and pursue a life for yourself that you never thought possible.

“How’d you do it?” you ask quietly, turning to meet Chan’s gaze. “I mean, you were young. Seventeen is basically still a kid. Being alone in a place like this is scary as an adult, I can’t even imagine what that was like.”

Chan smiles, but it’s sad. His eyes twinkle with something like resentment, the lights from the bridge making it look like he’s glowing. A flame that’ll never burn out. “Would you believe me if I said I’m still figuring it out?” The end of it comes out as a laugh, but you can tell he means it.

“I don’t know, being a big shot music producer with deadlines and clients seems pretty figured out to me.”

Chan nods and stares at the cup in his hands. “My parents hated it. Still do, I think.” You don’t say anything. Chan is grateful for that; grateful for the space you’re giving him to explain. “They wanted more for me I guess. But I’m not sure that more would’ve necessarily been what I wanted, you know? I’m content with where I am now. I’m doing something I love, even if it took a while to get here. They don’t see it.” He chews his lip nervously, fingers playing with the soggy material of the paper cup’s rim.

Chan doesn’t know why he’s saying any of this. He’s not the type to completely bare himself out to anyone, to scoop away at his insides until there’s nothing left besides the hollowness he feels whenever he thinks about how he traded his life back home for a life of music. But you’re different somehow. Chan knew since the moment he saw you, felt it in the way your eyes lit up whenever he spoke and in the ease of how well the two of you got along. He was doomed from the start.

“I see it.” you say, your eyes still fixed on the water. “I might’ve only just met you today, but I see it. And I get it, too. Maybe not to the same extent, but the feeling of wanting to do something for yourself even if it meant losing something else. There’s purpose in that, in you. It’s okay to be selfish if it means you’re prioritizing your happiness.” You let the words settle for a bit, hoping that you don’t sound too shallow. When you turn to look at him, he’s already looking back.

“You don’t know me enough to say that.”

“I don’t have to know you to believe in you, Chan.”

A beat of silence, and then he’s laughing, short and punctuated as he lets his head fall forward with a small shake.

“You’re…”

“What? Corny?” you supply, smiling over at him.

“No,” he says, meeting your gaze. “Perfect.”

You huff out an incredulous laugh, looking away to hide the blush that’s spreading across your cheeks. “You can’t just—god, now who’s corny? Huh?”

“I never said I wasn’t corny.” Chan argues, sitting up to face you fully.

“Yeah but you can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not? I think you like it.”

Your mouth opens and closes quickly, lost for words. Chan’s closer now, a lot closer than he was before. One arm thrown across the back of the bench, loosely framing you in, he bends it at the elbow to bring a hand up and tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I never said that.” you mumble, your gaze flicking down to his lips and then back up again.

“You want me to stop then?” he asks, voice just above a whisper. You know what he’s implying the minute his fingers trace the shell of your ear, moving down slowly until they start playing with the collar of his jacket.

“Is it bad if I say no?”

Chan’s hand is warm to the touch, ice to fire. You lean into it. A moth to a flame, one that’ll never go out.

“Not at all,” he repeats, just like earlier, “I was hoping you would say that.”

A dog barking in the distance. Cars beeping as they pass by. A plane flying overhead. A group of friends laughing as they ride past on their bikes. The minute Chan’s lips connect with yours, everything fades, the sounds warbling together like static. Unintelligible; nothing besides the feeling of Chan kissing you matters.

It’s slow, nothing more than a press, but you feel it in every fiber of your being. Kissing Chan feels like the poles of the earth are colliding, meeting in the middle and sending its molten core spreading throughout your entire body. Warm, warm, warm. Chan is warm. He’s soft and gentle and his lashes tickle your cheeks when his eyes flutter closed halfway through because he was too busy etching your features into his memory.

You’re the first to pull away, admiring the way Chan’s eyes slowly peel open, lips swollen and pink. Unable to resist, you lean in and peck them once more, giggling when he blinks at you in shock.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been as compelled to kiss someone as I was just now.” You smile.

“Me too,” he sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t normally kiss on the first date.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t normally do dates anyways. At least not ones that don’t immediately go up in flames.”

“What about now?” Chan asks, raising an eyebrow. “Have I changed your mind?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. I kind of told Changbin that if this was a disaster I was never gonna go on a date again.”

Chan laughs and pulls you into his side, tucked right under his arm like the shape of him was molded in a way to make sure that you fit perfectly in his embrace.

“Is it bad if I say I like that idea?” He asks, glancing down at where your head is resting against his chest.

“Nope,” you say before leaning up to kiss him once more. He smiles into it when he feels your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck, humming softly against your lips.

“Worst date ever, then?” he mumbles against your mouth.

“Yeah,” you sigh, pulling back to stare into his eyes, big and brown and brighter than the stars, “Worst date ever.”

[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny ]

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[brighteuphony]

I LOVE your Sakura AU, thank you so much for making it 🥹

Even though her ending is supposed to be “good”, I always thought that canon didn’t do her justice and threw any character development she had out of the window so she can be with Sasuke

I SO wanted her to finally move on and just let go

And I don’t have anything against Sasusaku

But I think it’d be much more beautiful if Sakura long let go of her feelings by the time Sasuke came to his senses and they developed their relationship TOGETHER from the START

And, once again, your work is AMAZING and I can’t wait for next pieces ❤️

Btw, can I ask a question?) Will we see Naruto’s and Sasuke’s reaction to her condition (maybe flashback to before she left the village?), if not, can you please tell me a bit about it? I can’t imagine them to ignore her after the incident, especially considering that they are at fault as usual

Thank you so much for the kind words! I've also never been a fan of how Sakura ended up. I have no beef with SasuSaku, but my biggest issue was that we never saw Sasuke try to make up/connect with Sakura in the same way we saw him do with Naruto, so their romance in Boruto just felt so...abrupt?

As for what happens to Sakura and her friends....

Sasuke was essentially put on probation/jailed, but broke out and defected to Otogakure as canon. This devastates Sakura, as she's both in deep denial about his contribution to her injuries and also the fact that she basically threw herself in there for nothing. Kakashi shuts down completely. It's a nightmare replay of his own past, including the female team-mate being horrifically injured by the chidori. The guilt of everything is eating him alive so he basically withdraws into himself and uses her demotion to civilian status as a way to trick himself into thinking that if he just 'rips off the bandaid' and cut ties, she'll be able to move on more easily.

Naruto is the only person who is really able/willing to face justice. After the incident, he was basically also put on probation/awaiting trial but busted himself out to join Jiraya.

So for context, Sakura got clapped hard by the Rasengan/Chidori combo (hearing gone, nerve damage, eyes shot etc) and basically had to be put in a coma to try and stop the damage from getting worse, but unfortunately none of the medics in Konoha had the ability to reverse anything but the most superficial damage. So Naruto joined Jiraya in an attempt to find and bring the only person in the world who could give Sakura a sliver of hope.

I felt like this worked well with canon and the desperation to get Tsunade to be hokage and Naruto basically begged her on his hands and knees to help Sakura. Tsunade made it there in the nick of time managed to save everything but her eyes.

But Sakura's life has fallen apart, her career is over, her parents dead from Konoha Crush and her eyes gone...and Naruto is the most convenient and available person to take out all her rage on, so...while he deserves a lot of that rage..she is essentially punching down on who she perceives to be the cause of all her problems.

Lee is in the same boat as her, but while he tries very hard to be there for her, Sakura can't stand to be with him right now, as it just makes the reality of life hit that much worse- especially when she finds out there's a surgery that might give him a better chance than she'll ever have.

And Ino visits often at first, but then it's awkward...and painful as the weeks go by. They have lunch and gossip but at some point, there's not much a shinobi and civilian have in common, especially after the shortage of manpower post Konoha-crush has Ino entrenched in the shinobi life more than ever before.

I hope this answered some stuff! Thank you so much for the questions and the interest! I love Sakura and I just wanna give her the development and power she deserves!!

[dfortrafalgar]

Bring Your Daughter(s) To Work Day

Law x Fem Reader (kinda)

When the babysitter cancels last minute, Law is forced to bring his daughters to work with him, and deal with the emotions they unknowingly make him feel.

A/N: SURPRISE- BONUS CHAPTER FOR IMLY!!! this came to me suddenly and i hammered it out. this can be read as a standalone, but i wrote it with the intention of it being directly connected to the universe of my long form fic "I'm Losing You"

Warnings: nothing but pure fluff here, folks. established relationship, third person POV, reader is only present in the beginning and end of the story, some suggestive language sprinkled throughout but nothing explicit

[IMLY Masterlist]

Law watched with dejected eyes as his wife dropped her head into her hands, a harsh groan leaving her lips.  Under her breath, quiet enough so her kids couldn’t hear her profanity, she uttered, “Fuck.”

“Let me guess,” Law mumbled.  “She canceled?”

“This is the last time we use this babysitter,” she growled, turning off her phone and flipping it upside down so the screen faced the table, ignoring whatever incoming messages might appear.  “It’s going to be too late to find any sitters now, and their school doesn’t start for another week.  It’s not like we can just drop them off somewhere or leave them here alone.”  She picked up her gaze, her eyebrows furrowed in deep concern.  “Law… I can’t miss this interview.”

“I know, baby,” he whispered back, reaching his hand across the kitchen table to stroke her clenched fist.  “You’re not going to.”

“Do you have a plan, then?”

Law bit the inside of his cheek as he searched his mind for any feasible solution.  One of the biggest interviews of his wife’s career was on the following day, ever since she cordially parted with her last job after having their twins.  She spent the first year of their life physically recovering from the birth, as well as having her tubes tied to prevent any more reproductive issues, the couple happily deciding that they were fine with two children.  The following toddler years were spent at home with Cora and Rose, his wife being assisted by Uncle Shachi, Uncle Penguin, and Auntie Ikkaku whenever they were free.  On days where Law was out of work, he made sure his wife was completely hands-off, taking his daughters out so his wife could spend some much needed time alone or out with her own friends.  The two had a comfortable balance, allowing for ample time spent with each other, their daughters, as well as valuing their personal lives.  Law’s cardiothoracic surgeon salary was more than enough to afford comfortable living in their small house filled with two six-year-old girls and a dog, but he could tell his wife was desperate to get back to a working schedule again.  There was never an issue with having more income, after all, and the doctor knew his wife was never one for the stay-at-home lifestyle for the long-term.

“I’ll bring them with me,” he stated suddenly.  His face remained completely neutral.

“What?” she yelped, standing from her chair.  “Law, you can’t.  You’re a doctor.”

“I don’t have any operations tomorrow, and I’m only working 12 hours.  I’ll bring them with me when I leave at 9, and you can pick them up after your interview,” he explained.  “I have plenty of staff, and there’s a children’s room in the cardiac ward.  They’ll have things to do and people to talk to.”

His wife frantically searched her husband’s face for any sign of indifference or reluctance to his own claim.  Finding none, she slowly sank back into her chair.  “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You’re absolutely positive?”

“I am.”

“And you promise to not traumatize them?”

Law pursed his lips.  The week prior, he found his girls in the backyard poking a dead, gutted rabbit with a stick.  He didn’t think he had much to worry about.  “I promise.”

Finally letting her shoulders relax, his wife slumped over and rested her forearms on the kitchen table, plopping her head against them and shielding her face from the world.  A small chuckle exited Law’s lips as he stood and rounded the furniture, coming to rest behind his wife and placing his deft hands on her shoulders, massaging the knots out of her tired muscles.  She visibly relaxed even more from his touch, almost as if she was melting from the motions of his hands.

“You always know exactly what to do to make me feel better,” she sighed, tossing a glance at her smirking husband from over her shoulder.

“Everything’s going to work out.  You’ll do amazing at your interview, the girls will behave themselves at work, and we’ll all live happily ever after,” he hummed, leaning down to plant a tender kiss on the back of her head.

“Can you bring home ice cream tomorrow?” she asked, her voice finally regaining its light and airy demeanor as her sullen mood finally lifted.

“Of course.”

—

“Girls.”

Law’s stern golden eyes looked in the rear-view mirror, watching as Cora and Rose immediately snapped their attention to their father from the backseat.  Rose clenched a book in her small hands, well above her age’s reading level, while Cora fiddled around with the broken arm of a Stealth Black action figure.

“Remember to be on your absolute best behavior today, alright?” he stated firmly.  “I’ll be around to check on you both for most of the day, but when I’m not there, you need to be good for the nurses.”

“We know, daddy,” Cora chirped.  “Mama told us you’d be coming home with ice cream if we were good.”

“I’ll be coming home with ice cream regardless,” he replied, a small smile growing on his lips.  “But if you’re not good, you won’t be getting any.  It’ll just be for Mommy and I.”

He laughed as his daughters screeched from the backseat, flabbergasted at the mere insinuation that they might not get a share of any delectable treats.  Fondness welled in his heart as he listened to the twins bicker over their shared behavior.  Through their short six years on Earth, they had already grown into strong, individualistic young ladies who were practically inseparable.  Law cried on every single birthday.  They had turned him into quite a softie.

His foot gently depressed the break of his car as he turned into the sprawling hospital’s parking garage, driving up the ramps to the third floor and slipping into a parking space reserved for staff.  He diligently grabbed the large childcare bag from the passenger seat, slinging it over his shoulder before proceeding to free Rose from her restrictive (but very safe) car seat, followed by Cora, who clambered to get out of the car and holler into the echoing abyss of the parking garage, giggling at the way her voice bounced off the concrete pillars and walls surrounding her.  Rose held her hands over her ears, cringing at the sound.

“Get it out of your system now, baby, you can’t be yelling like that in the hospital,” Law uttered, grabbing each girl by the hand and slowly walking with them toward the hospital’s entrance connected to the parking garage by a small hallway and two elevator shafts.

Rose firmly gripped her father’s hand in her right, clutching her book in her left.  Cora skipped along, tripping over her feet, and sang into the air.  “Gather up all of the crew!  It’s time to ship out Binks’ brew!  Sea wind blows, to where?  Who knows!  The waves will be our guide!”

Rose mumbled, her small voice whiny and irritated.  “Cora, you’ve been singing that all day.”

“I love that song!” the younger girl retorted, almost stepping on Law’s foot.  “Uncle Luffy taught it to me.”

Law bit back a smirk, yet rolled his eyes in mock annoyance.  Leave it to that boisterous man to introduce his daughters to the life of high-stakes maritime activity.  He’d be lying if he said playing pirates with his girls wasn’t some of the most fun he’d had recently, however.  It only took a bit of a negative turn when Cora, pretending to be the infamous Blackbeard, landed a punch against Law’s groin so harsh it made him double over.  It wasn’t like she knew any better, but amidst his wife’s worried yet hysterical laughter, he wondered if that blow was enough to make him infertile.

He shrugged the thought into the back of his head, releasing Rose’s gentle hand to press the elevator button, leading his girls into the small space and watching in silence as the doors closed in front of them, carrying them down two levels to the cardiac ward.

“Daddy?” Rose asked, looking up at him.  “What do you do all day?”

Law pondered briefly.  “On days where I don’t have operations, I usually do rounds for patients.”

“What are rounds?” asked the curly-haired girl.  

“I go from room-to-room and assess each person’s health and how they’re doing,” he explained.

“Can we join you?” Cora suddenly asked, staring up at her father with her own large, golden eyes.

“I’m afraid not, sweetpea.”

The younger twin pouted before suddenly growing frazzled out of nowhere.  “I LEFT MY ACTION FIGURE IN THE CAR!!!”

Rose quickly covered her ears again at her sister’s shrill scream.

“We’ll get it later, baby,” Law tried to console.  He nervously glanced at the LCD screen above the button panel, about to reach the first floor.  “I can get it for you on my lunch break.  Can you wait until then?”

Cora’s face was growing flushed as she puffed out her cheeks, her eyes welling with heavy crocodile tears.  “But I want him now!  He’s going to die in the car!”

Law rubbed a hand over her hair.  “He won’t die.”

“He will!”

“I’ll save him before he does,” he said back.  “Shhh, keep your voice down, baby.”

Rose removed her hands from her ears with an audible, relieved sigh.  Cora was appeased… for now.  She’d have to deal with profound, inescapable boredom until noon, or at least until her mom came to pick the two up and save them from the children’s room at the hospital.

All things considered, the girls were fantastically behaved.  They watched on quietly as Law scanned his badge to enter the high-security corridors leading to the cardiothoracic ward, nodding a wordless hello to the various nurses and doctors who passed by, each offering fond, excited smiles to the young girls.  The long, winding hallways of the hospital were ginormous in comparison to the twins, who were used to the much smaller hallways of their kindergarten building, but they kept their hands in their father’s as he led them to his ward.

“Can you remember what I said in the car?” the surgeon asked, scanning his badge over one last electronic box on the wall, the click of the door’s lock signaling its opening.

“We’ll be on our best behavior,” Rose obediently replied, more excited to be able to get back to her reading in peace.

“We promise,” Cora added.  She opened her small mouth one more time, as if to add a second thought, but quickly shut her jaw and stared straight ahead.  Law cocked an eyebrow at the display, but didn’t question it further.  If the little girl had an issue, she would immediately let him know.

There was a children’s room, which was really just a small space situated behind one of the nurses stations, used primarily for families with very small children.  When a person would be admitted to the cardiac ward, any potential juvenile visitors were welcome to use the children’s area to remove them from the otherwise clinical, scary environment of the hospital.  The entire space was stocked with coloring books, light reading for ages 4-10, building blocks, and other miscellaneous playthings, all thoroughly sanitized before and after each visit.

When Law rounded the corner into the doorway of the children’s area, Rebecca was crouched down on the floor, diligently wiping down a set of large plastic building blocks with a sanitizing wipe.  Her large, brown eyes glimmered as she saw Cora and Rose, having not seen them in quite some time.  It wasn’t like Law brought them to work often.

“There are the guests of honor!” sang the pink-haired woman, discarding the wipe into a nearby trash receptacle and hurrying toward her superior and his two excited daughters.  The girls pulled away from their dad and hugged Rebecca’s legs, instantly remembering the warm smile and bright laughter of the nurse who happily knelt to their level and pulled them to her chest.  “It’s so wonderful to see you two again!”

“Let me know if they give you any trouble, Rebecca,” Law sighed, smiling at the sight albeit scrunching his eyebrows at the potential his children had for causing petty issues.  They were their mother’s daughters, after all.  Their well-behaved exterior made room for some very sinister six-year-old schemes.

“How could these sweet angels cause any trouble at all?” Rebecca giggled, ruffling Rose’s head of thick, curly black hair.  “I will, though, sir.  No problem at all.”

“I’ll be back in about two hours for my short break.  Cora, Rose…” the surgeon called their names, alerting their attention once more.

The silence in the room was palpable as Law brought two of his fingers to his eyes, gesturing his hand toward their faces as if giving a silent threat that he had his eye on them, even if not in the same room.  He had a playful smirk on his face as he did so, leading Cora to stick her tongue out at her dad.  Rose gave her sister a light shove, harshly whispering about the ice cream reward still looming over their heads.

—

Two hours and far too many patient rounds finally came and went before Law was able to take a short break, proceeding to the children’s room with his ample amount of paperwork in an accordion binder held in his arms.  He’d be able to get some time to work on it while sitting on the floor at the squatted table while he gave his nurse a much needed reprieve from his daughters.  While marching through the long hallways of the cardiac ward, the surgeon pulled out his phone and smiled at the text that had come in from his wife, about 30 minutes prior.

Mama What do you think of this fit???  I mean, im going with it, but do i look hot and professional?

Mama [1 Image Attachment]

Mama Right answers only.  Also, are the girls behaving alright???

His wife did indeed look stunning.  Her curves fit elegantly into a sharp, black pencil skirt that flared slightly below her knees.  Sheer tights complimented her supple skin, and sophisticated yet casual wedge heels boosted her height by a good inch or so.  She was posing in the mirror of their bedroom, one hip jutted out propping up her free hand that she graced over her waist.  A trendy blouse was tucked into the skirt, the top few buttons still undone.  Grinning down at his phone and holding his folder tighter against his abdomen, he fumbled to type out a response while walking.

You know you look stunning, baby.  Absolutely gorgeous.  You’re going to do up those top buttons, though, right?

He watched the incoming message bubble appear and disappear a few times before her response came in.

Mama Duh, i was just hoping that showing off some cleavage would give me extra points with you <3

Law fought to bite down the chuckle that rose in his throat, not wanting to attract attention. As long as I get to undo those buttons later.  He was feeling bold today.

Mama Ice cream first, sex later.  Love you baby <333

Law quickly shoved his phone into his pocket after thumbing out a quick good luck message for her upcoming interview, which she was surely traveling to at that very moment.  He pushed open the door to the children’s room, quickly pushing back any inappropriate thoughts of his beautiful wife and smiling at the sight of his daughters.

Cora was in the middle of utilizing every single building block the room had to build a convoluted structure that took a plethora of odd shapes.  She was being assisted by another young girl who’s curious violet eyes watched inquisitively at each new block added to the structure.  Rose was in the adult-sized chair across the room, her nose buried in a new book.  Judging by her original book on the floor by the legs of the chair, she had finished that one after only two days.  A new literary record.  Rebecca was absent from the room, most likely having left to continue her own duties, but judging by the faint smell of light cleaning alcohol in the room, she hadn’t been gone long.

With a smile, Law sat on the floor across from his daughter’s, and the new girl’s, strange structure.  “What are you building?”

“A submarine.  Can’t you tell?” Cora replied, placing a pink-colored block on top of an ominously leaning stack.

The new girl, who’s hair was a deep shade of purple, stared at Law with huge, curious eyes before a cheeky grin broke out on her face.  “Are you the doctor taking care of my papa?” she asked.

Law grinned.  “Could be.  Who’s your papa?”

“Tenguyama Hitetsu,” she confirmed cheerily.  “Well, he’s not actually my papa, but he also is.”

A lightbulb clicked on in his head.  He had just been in Mr. Tanguyama’s room, and had no idea that the elderly man had any child under his care.  It was then he remembered that the man had described a young girl as his ‘student’ rather than ‘daughter,’ but he still spoke about her with such fond language.  Kurozumi Tama.

“Tama’s been helping me build,” blurted Cora, bringing herself to her feet to place another block on the tower attached to what was supposed to be a submarine.

“You two make a good team,” Law replied fondly as he turned his attention to his oldest daughter.  “Rose, what are you reading?”

Her new book was substantially thicker than the one she brought with her.  There were no pictures on the cover.  She tilted the object down only slightly to speak with her father.  “Rebecca brought it for me when I asked.  It’s a book about common heart conditions in adults.”

Somehow, Law was not surprised.  He didn’t even question it, watching as the black-haired girl turned her attention back to her book, disregarding any potential response from her father.  Without another word, and without wanting to distract the kids from their intense focus, he scooted across the floor to the squatted table and opened his accordion folder, flipping through his paperwork to pass his two hour break, counting his blessings that he had such easy, albeit… strange, children.

He couldn’t stay focused long enough to begin filling out his patient charts, however.  Especially not when he was swarmed with thoughts about his family.  As he picked his gaze up and glanced across the room at his daughters immersed in their own little worlds, happy as clams in their special ways, he couldn’t fight the swelling in his heart.  His wife, after worlds of difficulty, had given him two of the greatest gifts of his life.  Those gifts were now six years old, about to start first grade, reading above their level, building and drawing, holding conversations, and were filled with boundless love.  They hadn’t yet reached the age where they were embarrassed to hold hands with their dad in public, and they were still too young to fully understand the world around them, but it was clear as day to the surgeon that his little girls were bound to learn the tough realities of their lives sooner rather than later.  It made his chest pang thinking of how quickly they had grown up.  It felt like just yesterday that Law was by his wife’s side in the delivery room, finally holding his babies after they were allowed to leave the NICU, happy, healthy, and already beginning to babble and whine for their next feeding.  He remembered looking at his wife, the woman of his dreams, who had gone through far more than any human should in bringing these girls into the world, kissing her lips and thanking her, thanking whatever deity was in the heavens that she was still alive and well.

“Daddy?”

Rose’s voice broke Law from his trance, his sharp golden eyes darting up to meet hers.  The book was folded in her lap, her hands tracing the embossed letters on the hard cover.  

“Are you alright?” she asked, her voice small and concerned.

A lump developed at the base of Law’s throat.  His girls looked so much like his wife.  He forced the rock down his esophagus and smiled at his little girl.

“I’m just fine, sweetpea.”

—

Law had needed to stay for an extra hour and a half after his shift was supposed to end, much to his distaste.  After his close-call to an emotional outburst that afternoon, he wanted nothing more than to run home, embrace his wife in a hug, and cuddle with her on the couch with the ice cream that he had promised her.  When he was finally able to slip into his car, the backseats empty (save for the Stealth Black action figure that was completely forgotten about by noon) with Cora and Rose having been picked up by their mom, he pulled out his phone to send his wife a text only to find that she had sent him one first.

Mama Look how tuckered out they are!!!

Mama [1 Image Attachment]

Mama What did you do to them???  LOL

The image was immediately saved to Law’s camera app.  Cora and Rose were curled up on the plush carpet in their living room on both sides of Bepo who was sprawled out on his back.  Their little arms wrapped around the dog’s torso, their faces squished into his warm, white fur as they snoozed in one conjoined unit.  He quickly tapped out a text that he was coming home, placing his phone in his bag and proceeding out of the parking garage as quickly as he could.  With the only places still open at that hour being the gas station, he stopped at the nicest one in town and picked up three pints of ice cream, as well as a few extra treats to surprise the girls with when their new friend, Tama, came over for a playdate in a few days.

When Law finally entered his house, the only light still on was the lamp beside the couch.  All the curtains were drawn, shrouding the living room in a pleasant, dim warmth.  His wife was on the couch, laying back with her phone in her hand.  She quickly stood up when Law entered, excitedly yet quietly closing the gap between them and capturing her husband’s lips in a tender kiss.  He cheekily took the freezing bag containing the ice cream and pressed it against the thin cotton t-shirt she wore to bed, cooling her skin and making her suppress a surprised yelp.  She giggled as she playfully batted Law’s chest.

“You tease!” she whispered.  “I don’t wanna wake the girls.”

“With the way they were sleeping in that picture, I doubt we’ll wake them up,” he replied, his voice low as his lips stole another kiss, lingering a few moments longer.  His heart fluttered at the feeling of his wife smiling into his gesture, her hands trailing over his chest, shoulders, and up into his fluffy black hair.

When she pulled away, he finally noticed the blouse she still wore, all the buttons done up.  “Good, because you still have to take this off of me.  I’m uncomfortable.”  She snatched the bag out of his hands, procuring her own pint of ice cream.  “After this, obviously.”

“Of course, of course.”  Law followed her lead, grabbing his own treat after placing his other goods into the freezer and following his wife to the couch with two spoons in hand.  Bepo was on his dog bed snoring up a storm, which he had been doing much more often in his older age.

“How did your interview go?” he finally asked, smiling as his wife snuggled into his size, using a blanket to grip her ice cream without freezing her hand.

“I think it went well, I was so nervous, though.  I had to apply an extra layer of deodorant in the car because I was sweating so much,” she explained.  “But the manager seemed pleased with my resume.  And she knew Ms. Boa, so hopefully that means my recommendations will be worth it.”

Law held her close while opening his own ice cream.  “I’m sure it will be.  You’re a shoe in for that position.”

“You’re just saying that,” she mumbled, taking a spoonful of the frozen treat.

“You like when I say things,” Law replied with a smirk on his lips.

She sunk further into his chest, letting his warmth embrace her.  Her mind swirled with images of the man, when they started dating, when he proposed, on their wedding night, in the hospital multiple times, holding his daughters… the woman blinked away fond tears and swallowed her emotions with another hefty spoonful of ice cream.

“What are you thinking about, gorgeous?” asked the man behind her, his voice gruff and tired from a long day in the hospital.

“Nothing…” she mumbled back, hiding her face in his neck.  “Just how lucky I am to have you.”

[hylianane]

I have a feeling that Sanji and Zoro’s death pact will be properly resolved in Elbaf, as it certainly doesn’t feel like we’re done with it. And while Elbaf is gearing up to be very Usopp-centric (and I can not overstate how hyped I am to see him take the spotlight again, finally), let’s not forget that this all ties back to Little Garden, the arc that properly introduced Zoro and Sanji’s rivalry by paralleling them with two rival giants who fought each other every day for over a century, but who also lost themselves in their grief when one thought the other death. The parallel isn’t even subtle, Little Garden’s biggest landmarks are the remnants of Dorry and Brogy’s dinosaur hunting competition. You know. The very same competition Zoro and Sanji posed to each other at the start of the arc?

But here’s the thing. I’m a little worried about how it’s going to be resolved. Because. Despite how readily Zoro agreed to kill Sanji if need be, he must have known that the crew would never forgive him. Zoro is Luffy’s specialest guy but Luffy would not accept any excuse as to why Sanji had to die. Nor anyone else in the crew. But. Does Sanji realize that?

Does he know that killing him would literally be the hardest thing Zoro would ever do, because it would mean literally betraying his Captain and crew? Luffy said he can’t become Pirate King without Sanji, and Zoro and Luffy swore they’d commit fucking ritualistic suicide if they got in the way of each other’s dreams, so does Sanji know where that would leave the swordsman in this case? With no Captain, no crew, and yet another dead rival and best friend (who, mind you, began to live in fear of his own biology betraying him right before dying. but the parallels between Kuina and Sanji and how they relate to Zoro could be a long ass post for another day).

I think he doesn’t know. But he can’t find out how Zoro would mourn him unless the pact actually follows through. But still, I don’t think Oda would kill Sanji, cause that’s no way to resolve this issue. So here’s my speculation about how I think it could potentially play out, following that initial line of thinking of the death pact’s resolution being set in Elbaf, specifically because of Sanji and Zoro’s parallels to Dorry and Brogy.

Like Brogy, Zoro would have to believe that he killed Sanji. That he won their final duel. He’d have to believe that Sanji has fallen and, also like Brogy, have to face that grief and hurt all alone. But in the end, like Dorry, Sanji would survive, having never actually been hurt. Because their edges have dulled after fighting for so long, no longer as capable of landing killing blows as they thought. “Not even the blades of Elbaf could endure two giants fighting for 100 years”? Something of the sort. And maybe this line of speculation is simplistic or optimistic, but the chances of it playing out like this aren’t zero, so just in case, I would want to be able to say that I called it.

[genz420]

Cabin 12 Headcannons 🍇 🎭

Masterlist | Rules

Content: Cabin 12 headcanons

Warning: Memiton of addiction, but Dionysus is the god of wine so..

The cabin with the closest siblings in my opinion

I feel like Mr. D would only have 2-4 demigods at a time

So that leads to them being super close

They all tend to have the same features of curly hair and purple eyes

A dead giveaway to who is their parent

They would all tend to be on the bigger side

Not that they are not strong, they are 

But they would not have the typical Greek god look

Their beauty would be intoxicating though

Like the type of beauty where it’s obvious god is real because it’s not fair

Best hair in camp tbh

Also, Mr. D claiming them would be totally different from his usual trick with demigods and trying to get wine

Just straight up points at them and announces that they are his spawn 

Some are the typical party-lover extroverts who can make friends with anyone and everyone

Then there are the theatre lovers introverts who have a close group of friends but when it comes time for the play of the summer they give the best performance that the camp would ever see

Mr. D def makes the camp do plays

He is the god of wine and theatre and can’t have wine

Would force the campers to do theatre to make them just as unhappy as he is

Big English teacher making students read Shakespeare vibes from him

Not Drama teacher vibes

But no matter what kind of kid they are, they would totally memorize Hamilton to spit the Hermes cabin

Because Hermes is Lin-Manuel Miranda 

They are rolling with the LGBT+

Whether queer themselves or the biggest ally ever

They are also the campers who give the best advice and the type of friends who are always the go-to shoulder to cry on

They are the Camp therapists. Let's be real

I feel like they would get along best with the Demeter, Apollo, and Aphrodite cabins

They have the best relationship with their godly parent

Because no one can convince me that Dionysus doesn’t love his children 

I feel like they would either have a horrible sense of direction or the best because of Ariadne

Addiction gene goes hard

Might not be to a substance, but they all definitely have that one thing they can’t live without

Especially have one drink that they love

I like to think that they all have a thirst that can’t be quenched unless it’s with that one drink

Also, they have the best or worst palates ever

Like that one person who only eats chicken nuggets and fries or the one who will eat everything and be a snob about it

They are cat people, not dog

Would definitely be responsible for the export of Strawberries 

Bec even if the Demeter cabins help, when a Dionysus kid grows the strawberries it is hard to stop eating them

The most unserious counsellors in camp

Would definitely take a bribe not to report something 

Because their dad ain't going to do shit in punishing them

Chiron might tho

Also, the worst people to play cards with

They def cheat and win 

But if they are not winning they become the biggest sore losers 

Uno is banned in the cabin for sure

Dionysus demigods are the best for the reason of not having daddy issues in a camp where everyone has daddy issues in some way

They can’t shit-talk their dad

He’s right there

I also think most of them get to camp at a young age and are probably not year around campers

But the ones who are year around make sure that camp, during the off-season, is hospitable 

Would probably team up with the Hermes cabin to sneak in movies and mortal world media 

They plan the best parties for the campers

They are the type to join a cult and end up becoming the leader

Dionysus campers are often overlooked but I just feel like they would be the backbone of camp

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

blank space - m. murdock

a/n: uhm... this one is dedicated to my friend arin who doesn't like daredevil but is encouraging me to be more unhinged. i hope you guys enjoy because i had a blast writing this. possible part two in the works, please like and reblog with comments and feedback <3 warnings: i cannot emphasize this enough-- DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT there is so little comfort to all of this hurt. matt is abusive and mean and reader is tortured and quiet and readers dad is an addict and a gambler and also stabbing, cursing, talking about fucking, sub/dom dynamics, nicknames, fem reader, lmk if i missed any! word count: 3.5k summary: Your dad makes your life horrible. Matt can make it worse. paring: dark!matt murdock x reader now playing: blank space (taylor's version) - taylor swift "so it's gonna be forever/or it's gonna go down in flames?/you can tell me when it's over/if the high was worth the pain"

You never meant to get involved with him.

Really, it wasn’t anything you did.

 As usual, it came back around to your father, who had a bad gambling problem, as well as a substance issue, and would often be tempted to gamble big prizes for things like coke or heroin. He would bet money, college funds, heirlooms, your house.

But of course, he couldn’t pay these debts.

Your mom had been gone for quite some time, and you suspect this is where your fathers’ addictions stem from. But you’re trying to just make your way through your adult life. You had gone to a local college, unable to afford much else. Now, you worked in a dingy little office where they constantly abused your work ethic.

Between your grief, his constant betting on your lively hood, and your asshole boss, you felt your bones grow tired. Not the sort of tired that could be fixed by a good night’s sleep. The sort of tired that could be fixed by a new life, not that you had the means for that.

You think your mother would haunt you for the rest of your days if you abandoned your dad.

Friday night came, and you were ready to go home to the small apartment you shared with your father, and drink some wine, and get a nice sleep.

You had been told by your boss that you needed to stay late to translate paper files to the digital system. No, you would not be getting paid overtime.

It was dark by the time you finally left, your feet aching in your heels as you made your way through Hell’s Kitchen, wanting to get home so as not to start crying on the streets of New York.

You don’t make it home.

As you turn the corner by your block, you notice a van creeping up on you. How long had it been following you? If you weren’t so tired, maybe you would know.

But the van pulled up next to you, and you did the only thing you could in this situation. You started to run.

Only, you made it about ten feet before you twisted your ankle with these stupid fucking heels. As you fall, you let out a cry of pain, and before you can think, two men are outside the van. They grab you by the arms and pull you into the van, the whole time you struggle.

Someone puts a black hood over your head and wraps duct tape around your hands. Your ankle is fucking aching.

You aren’t sure how long you drive for, but someone is then pulling you out of the van and drags you along. They give you an opportunity to walk but your ankle hurts to the point where you can’t walk.

They drag you again, and your foot is dragging, and holy shit, you can’t believe that your biggest concern while being kidnapped is how much your ankle hurts.

Eventually, hood on your head still, you are sat in a chair. Your hands are untied, and you want to jump up and fight, but you know your ankle won’t help you here.

They quickly tie your hands back to the chair, with rope this time. Whoever ‘they’ are.

You’re starting to have trouble breathing, because you’re realizing what sort of situation, you’re in right now.

You’ve been kidnapped for something; you have to assume in some way that it’s to get back at your father.

The hood is pulled off your head, and your eyes take a moment to adjust.

The room you’re in is dark, dingy. You know there’s two people behind you, big enough to carry you. You can hear water outside the room, assuming you’re in an abandoned office by the docks. Then, there’s three people in front of you.

One is a man, with long blond hair. He wears a nice suit and is just standing in front of the door. Another is a woman, with even longer blond hair and she also dons rather luxurious apparel. Your dirty work clothes make you look meager next to her.

The last is a man with dark hair. He wears a simple, rather expensive suit, and red glasses.

If you weren’t on the verge of a meltdown, you’d probably realize how hot he is.

Oh, he also holds a knife.

The blond man talks first.

“So. Do you want to start, or should we?”

“What?” Your ankle throbs.

“I guess we should, then.” He hums. “Do you have five grand worth of heroin on you, dear?”

You could throw up.

“I—”

“No, of course you don’t. You and your boyfriend probably used it all.”

What is he talking about? Now, on top of being in pain and panicked, you’re confused.

“The man you live with?” The woman finally speaks. “I assume you two used all the heroin he stole.”

You realize she means your father. You realize that your father stole five grand worth of heroin. What else did he steal?

“What else does he owe?”

“No, darling,” she scoffs, “We ask, you answer.”

“I don’t do heroin.”

“So, how do you know he owes us more?”

“Took a wild fucking guess.” You spit. “Figured you wouldn’t kidnap someone over five grand, figure money is no object.”

The man with the knife steps out of the shadows. Your heartbeat races, and he chuckles. He crouches in front of you.

“You’re a spitfire. I like that. In fact, I love that in a woman, don’t I, Foggy?” He turns his head back slightly.

Foggy answers.

“That you do, man.”

His head turns back to you. But you get the impression by his glasses that he can’t see. So how is he looking right at you?

“If you give us some sort of sass like that again, I’ll stab you and make sure you feel every second of pain.” You whimper, and he laughs again. “Not so cocky anymore, are we, sweetheart?” He stands and goes behind you, his arms landing on the outside of your own, caging you in. He leans down and whispers in your hear, “Is this.. turning you on, sweetheart?”

You don’t answer.

“Answer me.”

“No.”

“Liar.” He whispers back, the knife gracing over your ear. He cuts your ear just enough to make it bleed, and tears slip down your face. He makes his way back to the front of you and crouches again. “I’ll ask you again. How do you know he owes me more?”

“I figured he would, when gamblers start, they don’t stop.”

“Not only did you lie to me again, you also just gave yourself away. Lie to me again and I hurt you worse.”

Your foot that isn’t hurt goes up and kicks him in the face. At least it tries, because his reaction is too quick, and he grabs your ankle.

“Bad, bad girl.” He tuts. He lets go of your leg and picks up your other leg, the one with the bruising, swollen ankle. You start to shake. His hand squeezes the wound and when you yell in pain, he just coos at you. “Aw, does that hurt, sweetheart?”

You’re busy crying.

“Answer me!” He demands. It shakes you to your core. You realize you do not know who you’re dealing with, and you’re even angrier at your father for jeopardizing you like this.

“Yes!” You sob, and this seems to satisfy him. He takes the knife in his other hand and slowly cuts open your stocking, loving the way you’re shaking with fear.

 “Keep moving and you’ll cut yourself.”

You try to calm yourself down, on the verge of a panic attack. The knife grazes your leg, and he starts to focus in on your thigh, twisting the knife around your skin.

“How do you know him?” he asks. And you aren’t sure why you try it. You don’t know how he knows when you lie.

“I’ll find a way to pay you back, just let me go, I promise, I’ll tell you where he is, just—”

Then you feel it.

The knife pierces your thigh and is lodged into your leg. You scream in pain, gripping the arms of the chair. Fuck, it hurts. Your vision blurs, and you’re unsure whether it’s from pain or from your tears.

 He stands up in front of you, ignoring the stares from Karen and Foggy. He knows he might have gone a step too far for someone he’s pretty sure is innocent in all this. But he can’t help himself. He likes hearing you wither in pain, and he likes being the person administering the pain. He has all these things he’s in control of, but at this moment, no one else is in the room. It’s you and him, in a rather intimate moment.

He pats your chin, “C’mon, focus, right here, sweetheart. Tell me the truth and I make the pain go away.” He tells you, breaking through the wall of pain and fear that blocks your ability to think.

“He’s my father!” You finally cry out. It comes out as if you’re yelling in church, screaming to God a confession you can’t bear anymore. The only thing missing is your position on your knees, but being below this man like this is as close to an altar as you can see yourself being. “I know he has a gambling problem, and I know he has a drug problem but that’s it! I don’t know anything else, I just lost the parent roulette, okay?!” Your words come gasped out, in between sobs and when you’re not too distracted with your pain.

He seems to be satisfied with this. He gets back down, closer to the ground. Now he’s the one at the altar, but the devil has no place in a church, only between your thighs. He tilts his head and kisses the inside of your thigh.

“See? Good girls get rewards.” Bad girls get stabbed. He stands up, and with him, he pulls at the knife. Blood gushes as you cry out in pain again, sure he'll leave you to bleed out, to be fed on by rats.

He drops the knife at your feet and adjusts his tie.

“What should we do with her, boss?”

“Go get her father.” He says, “But don’t let her go just yet. I’d like to keep her a while.” You think you’ll be sick. “Knock her out though, we don’t want her knowing where she is.” That’s the last thing before the butt of a gun meets your head.

It’s a nice relief from the pain.  

• • •

You wake up on a bed with silk sheets. It’s almost nice enough for you to forget about the whole situation. Maybe your whole life has been a dream, and really, you’re a rich housewife for a man who loves you deeply and your mom is still alive.

But then you sit up, and your stockings are ripped, and your heels are gone.

A brace wraps around your hurt ankle. A bandage wraps around your thigh. The pain isn’t there anymore, you’re not sure what drugs have been given to you.

The room is rather barren, you realize, with little to no works of art or even photos, and it’s rather dark. It’s also freezing cold, a central air system whirling around you. You wonder, if you’re a prisoner, then why put you in a room like this?

What is happening?

The door opens and immediately you went to defend yourself, though there were no weapons around you.

The man from the night before steps into the room, and he looks... casual. He wears dark jeans and a tee shirt, his glasses discarded. Bandages wrapped around his knuckles.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” You don’t respond, just stare at him. “I’m Matt.”

You stay quiet.

“You’re not being tortured anymore, honey. If you want, you can lie and be mean now, I don’t bite. Not anymore. Not unless you want me to.”

“I’m Matt.” You repeat, unable to believe it. “You stab me in the leg and kidnap me, and you go as casual as ‘I’m Matt’?” He grins.

“I told you; I love a woman with some fire.” You wonder how many times he’s used that line on people. “Telling them they’re beautiful just doesn’t hit the same way when you’re blind.” He says, going over to a door, and when he opens it, you realize it’s a closet.

“I want nothing to do with you.”

“No?” He turns to you, and smiles. He says your name. How does he know it? “You went to college for Marketing, cute. No siblings. Your mom died a few years ago, after a long battle with cancer. I’m sorry.” This sounds sincere. “You were engaged once, but he cheated on you and is now married to the other woman.” And he goes back to stinging. “Your father, I know all about him. David is an addict and a gambler. Now, addict, I could deal with. Addiction runs deep but it can be managed. It’s the gambling that frustrates me, and Sweetheart, If I’m frustrated, you must be riled up. He gambles everything, I should know. He gambles it to Foggy, who shares it with me.” He hums. He picks clothes out of the closet and heads back to you, “The pants are your size, but the shirt is mine.” He tells you, laying the clothes out in front of you. “Don’t worry about me watching, or anything.” It’s almost enough to make you smile.

You get changed, the challenge of slipping into the slightly lose jeans the hardest part. The bandage fits right in there, but even whatever pain meds have been given to you, aren’t enough.

“So, your father,” You groan, your face in your hands. You get it, your father is awful, and he hates him, but you know that your father is awful, and you know that you hate him. Why must he keep involving you? “I know, sweetheart, you’re in pain, and you hate him, but just stay with me on this.” he says, a cooing tone to his voice. You don’t know why, but you’re compelled to listen to him. “Your father forces you to live in this small apartment, because you’re the only one who works, and he always manages to find your money to gamble away. But it’s not just the money, it’s your electronics, your nice shoes, any pills you have in the house. And really, by doing all this, he is gambling you. Because not only is he risking not being able to pay his debts and someone taking you, but you’re tired. Aching for absolution that will never come. But the worst part is that even though all this stems from his grief around your mom, he gambled her wedding and engagement rings, the one you were always told you’d be proposed with.”

Tears well your eyes.

“Please, stop.”

He sits next to you on the bed, and you don’t have the energy to move away from him. In fact, you lean against him ever so slightly. He must know it too, you figure, since he can tell when you’re lying and when your heartbeat races. He’s warmer than you imagined. He’s a beacon of warmth in this cold, dim room.

He takes something out of his pocket, and then drops it into your hands. It’s a necklace, just a simple chain. Three things hang on it. A silver charm with an ‘M’ on it, and two rings. Your mom’s engagement ring, and her wedding band. You thought you’d never see it again, not after you came home and went to your jewelry box only to find out from your dad that he had lost it in a poker match a few weeks before.

You clutch the necklace in your hands.

“M for Matt?”

“Or Murdock, whatever you’d like.”

“You’re in charge, right? Just how in charge are you?”

“I run everything. There isn’t a corner of this city that I don’t have men in.” So, he’s the kingpin. The boss. Matt Murdock, a man feared by all, gentle to only you. Only for this moment.

“You’re not going to let me go, are you?”

“Bun, I was never going to let you go. But I don’t think you want to leave, either.”

You stay quiet. You can’t run. He made sure of that. Was he always going to stab you? Had he decided that from the moment he heard you whimper or was it your reaction to his pet names that did you in?

His fingers come up to graze your ear gently, but you flinch, since it’s where he had cut you.

“Bunnies are always so sensitive to the ears. Fragile. It’s not like you can hop away. Besides, you need time to heal, and I could take away all the pain. No more mean fathers, no more mean bosses, and no more mean thoughts.” He says gently. “I could put you back together.”

His voice is soft, as if his intentions are as well, but you’re sure he’ll destroy you. He will not put you back together, only break you down, collecting tiny pieces of you for his collection.

You consider it. You would never have to work again. You would never have to do anything again. You would never have to see your father again.

You turn your head, and nod.

“Okay. Okay, I’ll stay.” It wasn’t as if you had a choice in the matter. But nonetheless, He grins, and takes the necklace from you, only to wrap it around your neck, and clasp it on.

Despite the rings being something you had longed for, the ‘M’ alone weighs on you like a boulder.

He tilts your head gently, his fingers brushing against your chin, and you look away, ashamed of what you have done. He grabs your chin and keeps you looking at him. He leans forward and for a moment you just stay, feeling his hot breath against your lips. Tears escape from your eyes and run down your cheeks. He tuts softly and kisses your cheeks where the tears lie.

“Sh, Sh.. It’s okay, sweetheart,” he comforts. His other hand trails down to your thigh, where two of his fingers find the stab wound, and push into it. You whimper in pain, grasping his wrist. He sighs deeply, “Pretty noises.” He hums. “I would never deny you anything, bun. But if you deny me what I ask, it won’t end well for you. Understand?”

You nod, but when you aren’t verbal, he pushes down harder, the bandage and his fingers soaking with blood.

“Tell me. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand, Matt.” You manage to whimper out. He takes his fingers away and kisses your cheek.

“Good. Good job, honey.” He says softly, bringing his fingers up to his mouth and licking your blood off them. “Sweet, sweet girl.”

He leans forward and kisses you, and it’s full of a gentleness you weren’t sure he was capable of. You kiss back, afraid of what he’ll do if you deny him again.

He winds up kissing you to sleep, not mad at you for falling tired as you kiss. You lay with him in these silk sheets, freezing cold as you cuddle into him. He relishes being wanted. You accept that this is love. He feels you shivering and pulls you closer.

His hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers tickling the bottom of your torso. You whine when he does this, burying your head in the crook of his neck. He laughs, kissing your head.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I’ll buy you blankets. Blankets, Diamonds, anything you want.” He tells you. You’re tired. You just want to nap. You want him to give you more of the drugs that dull the pain of your thigh, and you want to eat something homemade that you didn’t cook yourself.

You want to give in and remain thoughtless. Just be happy with him since no one is looking for you anyways.

But as you drift off to sleep, feeling his hands crawl along your skin, you begin to plan. You’ll let him think you’re in love with him. You’ll let him love you, fuck you, put you back together. You’ll be his bunny, his arm candy, his toy to dress up and do whatever the fuck he wants. You’ll let him think he owns you.

He’ll know that he does.

And you’ll become close to his friends too. You’ll dress in pretty dresses, and he’ll pretend he’s oblivious to how much everyone wants you.

 And then, when your wounds heal, you’ll run.

You’ll flee the country, you’ll change your name, dye your hair.

But you don’t yet realize how relentless he is. How deeply enamored of you he is. By how determined he is to have you.

Escaping the devil will not be as easy as you think it might, not when he can hear your heartbeat, not when he can smell you, not when he wants you.

And it doesn’t help when he gives you the honor of killing your father.

That’s when you start to fall in love with him.

[hiso03]

what makes you ship halbarry, mine is the amount of symbolism and moments they manifest about them being compatible with each other and even the main lore knows theybare one😭😭

sometimes I wonder why these two aren't together yet since they are basically soulmates 😭😭

This is probably the question I have been waiting for the most and for which I have to have the longest possible answer. I will try not to go too far, but I will also try not to miss any points that I consider important.

I think I can start by saying that I love their dynamic, I've always liked it. To start Barry is a more serious guy, shy and introverted, always thinking about some situation and planning. And Hal is more outgoing, noisy and confident, he NEVER plans and is too impulsive.

They are opposing poles, not radically opposed as with other characters in the league, but they remain opposing enough to provide contrast to the relationship. There's also the fact that the two of them are fully aware of those differences, and even though they don't like some at all, they've never tried to change anything between them. Even when people constantly point out how different they are and how no one understands how they are friends. (Even they can't understand how they're so close if they don't resemble each other at all)

(Personally this panel is one of my favorites, as I love how Hal immediately jumps up to Barry's tastes, making it clear that while he doesn't like to do the same things Barry does, he doesn't find it as bad or boring as some might think.)

In general, the series of “The brave and the bold” I like because it allows you to take a close look at their relationship and give us lots of interactions of them, allows us to see a little more of their real character and their friendship.

There is also the fact that in that series they constantly show how well they know each other Hal and Barry manage to combine their skills to help each other. They always take advantage of each other's ability to resolve conflicts, and even when they fight or argue, they resolve them quickly. Another of my favorite numbers is the last volume of the series, when Barry falls into a terrible and painful depression and Hal is the only one who supports him.

Literally Hal tries to have some stability in his life to let Barry stay with him, helps him like Barry has always helped him and says one of the phrases I love the most.

“The poor man needs something to hold on to, so he will stay with me, maybe our friendship will be a comfort to him, he will always be able to count on that until the day we die.”

In this same comic is where Barry tries to sacrifice himself and Hal stops him, to that I add that in a previous issue we also show that one of Hal's biggest fears is losing Barry. The thought of seeing him die or get hurt is something that scares him.

Hal's not afraid to die, he's afraid that Barry will die and it's his fault, that I can't save him. And that point added to everything that's going on with Parallax and Crisis on Infinite Earths feels like a stab for both of them.

It's fucking tragic.

Generally in many moments of Hal as Parallax or The Wraith, Hal talks about Barry, continues to talk about how amazing he was as a person and a hero, talks about how he remains his best friend even though Barry is still dead. (That reminds me a lot of when I'm with my friends and some of them start talking about their boyfriends even though they're not there and we didn't talk about them originally)

And when they both revive, Barry constantly lets him know that everything that happened with Parallax wasn't him and tries to support him, try to be there for him for as long as he couldn't help him when his friend needed him the most.

We also have the fact that Barry has canonically been a blue lantern, and well, hope and willpower isn't exactly two opposing poles, on the contrary, it's likely that both entities are reciprocal forces. That they stick together and support each other, just like Hal and Barry do.

I also like to think that they had a somewhat similar childhood.

Both lost a father or mother, and that led to the loss of the rest of their family and childhood, they had to grow up faster than the other children, became more independent, and soon discovered that the world was cruel and unjust.

Although we also have other universes like:

The universe of Injustice where the two of them continue to support each other and remain together despite the mess that is around them, and there is even a panel where Hal as a yellow lantern is going to rescue Barry after Constantine abducted him.

Or we also have the fact that red and green in the chromatic circle are two opposite or complementary colors that are usually used when you want to create a harmony on a visual level. That is, from the choice of colors we can know perfectly well that they are opposite poles, but they complement each other so well that it creates a visual harmony when you see them together. (For some reason Christmas usually uses these two colors as its main ones).

There's also the fact that Hal and Barry met before the league was formed, and even when they met Batman and Superman, Hal wanted him and Barry to work it out on their own. (Barry refused because someone has to put prudence on their duo)

And we have the fact that in the story of how they met, Hal calls it his “first date”. (Let's pretend he didn't say that when he and Barry weren't literally on what looked like a date, where they went to dinner at a restaurant where there was live jazz music and Hal actually had a good time sitting on Barry's cell phone).

(Hal hates jazz, but he's still there with Barry at a dinner party while putting up with music he doesn't really like. That's pretty.)

I think it was also in this comic where Hal lets Barry use his ring to get you both out of there.

There's also universe 36 where we have two variants of Green Lantern and Flash that canonically speaking are couple. It is worth remembering that the two of them did not stay together, since in an event they participated in, the Flash of their universe dies. (It seems there can't be a crisis without a sprinter dying) Luckily at DC Pride they made the green lantern of their land look for their Flash, and they revived and were happy.

(They're supposed to be neither Hal nor Barry, but the truth, their designs and even their names feel like very inspired by them, so I scored it as a little extra point although I don't know if you can consider it).

We have DC vampires that although in that universe, Hal kills Barry because they won't let him turn him into a vampire because he would end up killing everybody. Hal finally gives us that line where he admits that he REALLY wanted to conquer the world with Barry, which kind of fuels his tragic gay romance.

Anyway, I would like to go longer, but I can't find some panels that I was looking for to explain me more, plus I feel that this is already long enough and meaningless to make it clear that I love them both. I just want to add that I think probably the thing I like most about them is that they both admire each other. Both their heroic parts and their civilian parts, and I think that's very sweet and nice, added to the fact that they're always there trying to support each other or show off parts of their personality that you can't appreciate with all their friends to the same extent. I like that they always have symbolism and like many times in the comics it refers to some moments that they have lived together. This makes me have the theory in my head that maybe some cartoonists and writers also like them in a sense beyond friendship, but since NOBODY dares to take the leap of faith and make them canon, they let us drop some crumbs so as not to lose faith.

(If anyone got here, thank you so much for reading all this even though it doesn't make much sense in some parts, I apologize for that and make up for it with some panels of them two)

[duckiemimi]

everything that’s happened since gojo’s unsealing has been such a missed opportunity for his character.

now, don’t get me wrong—yuuji is the main protagonist of the story, despite being benched for the better half of the arc, but gojo is a protagonist, too. and though the development from gojo’s beginning (the hidden inventory arc) to his sealing (the shibuya arc) isn’t as consistent as some of the other characters, it’s still growth with room for resolution. resolution which we did not get in 236. (if he’s actually dead.)

i think one of the biggest setbacks to gojo’s potential character growth is the timeskip that happened right before his fight with sukuna. the story wouldn’t have slowed down if we were given time to reacquaint ourselves with gojo after hundreds of chapters of absence, and it would’ve been a great opportunity to re-establish the dynamic he had with his students and friends, as well as introduce him to new characters and the characters we haven’t seen him interact with.

besides exploring character relationships, unfolding that timeskip into actual training scenes would’ve given the reader a sense of time passing, which would’ve played into the anticipation of waiting for the promised date. because that’s what the characters were doing, too—waiting for the promised date. the scenes wouldn’t have to be long and dragged out, but regardless if they were, they could’ve served a purpose in the story. in reality, all we know is that the timeskip happened and now everyone’s patting his back. conveniently implied off-screen growth.

then we have our epic battle, spanning fifteen-chapters full of “is he dead or is he not?” cliffhangers. as highly anticipated as this fight was, it mostly consisted of play-by-play sequences with minimal scenes of characterization. (by characterization, i mean things like internal-monologues and interactions that are more than just fighting. “phew, that was close” thoughts don’t count.) if we were to use the canon fifteen chapters as a base, a skeleton we could build on, adding more characterization could’ve made the fight less repetitive and so much more engaging, so much more meat to the story. alas, all we have fighting.

and then we have chapter 236. in my personal opinion, gojo didn’t have to die for the story to still end up centering the new generation he fostered, but let’s say he really did die in 236. if he really did die, then this chapter completely reversed and regressed gojo’s character to the point where it wholly undermined the development we’ve seen throughout the story. i would call it a simple “out of character” moment, but if he’s dead, then we’re back at square one and now we’ll stay there, unmoving. because he’s dead.

on top of that, his change was done abruptly, too, with no indication or foreshadowing that we were heading in the direction where 236 ended. i wouldn’t say that gojo enjoying his fight with someone who actually gave him a challenge was an indication that he would end up the way he did. you have to believe your readers are smart, but you can’t leave things so vague for them to figure everything out by themselves. readability is great. this issue shouldn’t have to be an open-ended question.

and anyway, the sudden change had no purpose. what am i supposed to take away from him reverting back to his high school self? that despite all the work he put in, he’s still alone? even in death, he feels alone? next to all his dead friends, he laughs but still, he feels alone and misunderstood? how pessimistic. and even if that was what the narrative was going for, then those fifteen chapters were a missed opportunity for an effective transition from point “a” (gojo pre-battle) to point “b” (gojo post-battle/in the afterlife) characterization-wise. (and plot-wise. off-screen major events are lazy.) i’m not convinced and neither are many readers. this isn’t just because gojo’s a well-loved character.

i think most people knew one way or another that gojo would die, given the nature of the story. even if that fifteen chapter back-and-forth gave hope for survival, the end is the inevitable, and that’s understandable. but to end his character as someone unrecognizable from who we were first introduced to, and to have it done so drastically, too? it makes me :/ . sacrificing gojo for the sake of the plot, i could understand, but twisting him post-mortem was unnecessary.

taking away the care he had for the future generation, who are battlefield-bound right now, completely undermines the fact that the story is supposed to center around them. that was his motivation and what spurred him to give yuuta and yuuji second chances in life. his care, his motivation, was what started the story in the first place. if gojo’s character arc was intended to be flat and his actual character, static, then he wouldn’t have had ongoing motivations that lined up with the major plot.

bear in mind, i’m not making this as a call to action or anything (god, no). but these are just my thoughts as a long-time reader. the story is still gege’s and while i’m dissatisfied with how he killed off one of my favorite characters in the series, whatever happens next is in the control of the g-pen between his fingers.

[theosb0rnway]

Just finished the Bad Batch finale and HOLY SHIT IT WAS SO FUCKING GOOD

SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT

THEY ALL LIVED!!! HOLY SHIT THEY ALL LIVED I CAN'T BELIEVE IT--

So um.... yeah Tech's still not dead to me, CX-2 is alive, everything is fine, we'll see him soon, it's fine-

Crosshair GOT HIS HAND CUT OFFFF- Not the biggest Crosshair fan but I still feel so bad.... BYT AT LEAST HE MADE THE SHOT AND SAVED OMEGA AND HE GETS A HAPPY ENDING NOW

Speaking of happy endings, THEY ALL GET TO GROW OLD!!!! I'M SO FUCKING HAPPY FOR THAT, I'M SO GRATEFUL THEY GET TO LIVE THAT PEACEFUL LIFE THEY WANTED, EVEN IF WE DIDN’T GET TO SEE IT

GONKY'S ALIVE AND WELL, THANK THE FORCE

Emerie helped the kids escape I'm so glad they all made it too AND THE KIDS LOOKED SO CUTE ON PABU WITH MOX, DEKE, AND STAK

ECHO'S STILL ALIVE AND HELPING THE CLONES FIGHT, HELL YEAH

They rescued the clones!!!! I'm SO FUCKING HAPPY they did

HEMLOCK AND RAMPART ARE FUCKING DEAD, LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOO

Rampart was a double-crossing son of a bitch and he got what he deserved. Rest in peace, Nala Se. You may not have always been on the right side, but you died doing the right thing.

Did I mention that I don't think Tech is dead?

The CXs were SO COOL I wish we got to see more of them!!!

DID I MENTION THAT I DON'T THINK TECH IS DEAD?!? (I'm not losing hope guys, I'm not-)

The Zillo beast absolutely RIPPING UP TANTISS was fucking FANTASTIC and I love it and it was VERY VERY MUCH DESERVED

Baryn is me, I need loud destructive noises to fall asleep LOL (this is why I can only fall asleep to FNAF songs in my ears-)

Seeing grown up Omega made me cry, and I love that older Hunter looks like pretty much every older Hunter fanart ever drawn-

Wish we could have seen older Wrecker and Crosshair, and GIVE ME SCENES OF BOTH OF THEM HEALING, PLEASE- (Crosshair did not eat on screen the ENTIRE SEASON I don't like that at ALL.)

Overall, I thought the finale was a solid 9 1/2 out of 10, the only thing that could have made it better was a CX-2 is Tech reveal, but... I mean I got everything else, so I'm not entirely disappointed.

I'm still staying VERY MUCH a part of this fandom, sorry not sorry to my followers who came for the Ninja Turtles and got Star Wars copy-paste men instead-

As I mentioned, I do have a Bad Batch project coming out soon, and I guess I could call it a fix-it now... but yeah, I'm not done with Star Wars and at this point in my life, I really don't think I'm leaving this fandom any time soon. Yes, it has some issues, as all fandoms do, but it's where I fit best at the moment. I'll still be posting other stuff, but Star Wars and the Scream franchise are my main fandoms for now.

Thank you to the cast and crew of this WONDERFUL show, you did it again, Star Wars. (*puts TBB in my top 3 TV shows of all time*)

And thanks to all my friends here on Tumblr who helped me get into this show and traded theories and so much more! (Also special thanks to @atyourdinosaurs for all of your love, theories, and ideas [and for inspiring my new project], and to @casp1an-sea and @thecoffeelorian for being two amazing friends I made from this fandom!)

We had a great run, guys. It's a honor to love this show and to be here for its final moments. Here's to more Star Wars and to more Bad Batch content in the future.

-Oz

[theflyindutchwoman]

I have 3 things to talk about…

1. How nice it was to see Tim talk to the guys about his fight with Lucy. I’m literally shocked that he was so open with them! I love that he’s growing, opening up and confiding people that aren’t just Lucy and Angela (And Genny to an extent) he was so many friends now!

2. I am unable to move past how married™️ and sweet and domestic it is that Lucy calls tim to get the bugs at home 🥹 and how she suspected that he was just killing them but didn’t say anything and Tim was like pretending to set them outside even tho he wasn’t because he appreciates how empathic she is to even bugs 😭 I just can’t get over the idea that badass Lucy Chen is scared of bugs, well maybe not scared but whatevs, and makes her grumpy boyfriend take care of them but still insists he doesn’t just kill the scary bugs — do we think post Jackson death, pre-Chris she would call Tim over to handle the super big ones? Omg can you imagine? I’m dead

3. Can we talk about how the dance was like the biggest indicator we’ve ever had that these two are so FREAKIN TACTILE WITH EACH OTHER! Like it was kinda obvious before that their shared love language is touch, but I feel like you really, very clearly see that in the dance. And I just 😭 they love each other so much and just want to touch and snuggle and be with the other so much.

I am still very unwell. And I haven’t even processed the ILY’s fully yet so we’re not gonna go there 😂😂😂

Just when I thought I had recovered enough, you decide to send me this. This is a live footage of me right now :

. The 'bug scene' Listen, after the dance, this might be my favorite part of the episode. This scene was the cutest thing ever… and yes, it was peak married energy. Let's be real here : what is the point of having a boyfriend if it's not to have him take out the trash and deal with the bugs? (just kidding!). Seriously though… Lucy once said that she used to treat the coackroaches in her first apartment as pets (3.11 I think), so it's not like she is fundamentally scared of bugs. Neither is Tamara for that matter. She just wanted Tim to take care of them, in a very Lucy way. But the fact that she knew he was killing them all along but pretended not to know is perfect. Again, that is so her. And then, add the other layer to that scene. Out of all the questions she could have asked, she chose this one. I feel like it was her way of diffusing the tension, of making Tim more comfortable by asking such an innocent question, with no stake at all, before bringing up the real issue between them.

. Tim at the bachelor's party scene You have no idea how much I wish that part had been a little bit longer, so we could see more of the reactions. Still, I love how this scene was cut, with the back and forth between the two parties. How both of them needing to confide their frustrations to other people. And you're right, this is huge for Tim. At best, he would open up to Lucy (obv not an option here) or Angela. Maybe Genny. But certainly not someone like Randy who he barely knows and who can't keep a secret. Or even Aaron… His former aide. That's how much this relationship is important to him. It may have started as a way for him to vent but he also wanted to hear some advices. And he did listen to Randy's suggestion - of all people.

. The dance On the one hand, did anyone still have any doubt that these two are so tactile with one another? The undercover mission was all the confirmation we needed, really. But on the other hand… I didn't think it was possible for them to be even more tactile. It's somehow more intense, more intimate… It just shows how much they craved reassurance. They needed that touch to ground themselves. Lucy needed to play with his lapel and he needed to pull her in closer to him. And don't get me started on how she was playing with his hair or caressing his face. IN PUBLIC. There was no room for Jesus in that dance. She was looking at him the same way she did before 'naked times'… And where did they sneak off after that dance? 👀

[jamethinks]

I wanna say something that's really mean and a lot of people are gonna hate me for it but idk it has to be said. Yor is an extremely boring and flat character. And this is not me hating on her, it's actually the opposite because I love Yor and I believe she is the most complex and nuanced character on the rooster. The problem is that no one seems to let her be the complex interesting character she is.

And the reason is because of fucking blatant misogyny and it drives me up the wall. Yor isn't allowed to be anything but a mother. She isn't allowed to an assassin, she isn't allowed to have friends, hell she isn't even allowed to be a sister. She's just a mother and nothing else.

We don't really see Yor being an assassin. She doesn't train or work on her skills, she didn't even have to work on her strength, she was born that way. The only time we get to focus on her job is the cruise arc but even then she's not even doing her actual job, she's being a bodyguard??? And the entire time she felt bad because she wasn't with her family??? And after all of that she forced her self to go enjoy the vacation with them even though she just spent the being beat up by people actively trying to murder her. Mind you- when Loid comes back from beating the living fuck out her brother only to get his ass saved by Nightfall- he gets to lay in bed while Yor just brushes everyone's hair??? And to top it all off, after all the work that she did protecting that random woman and her baby, Twilight is the one who actually ends up saving the day by disarming a bomb. WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU PUT THAT IN??? WHY WAS HE EVEN THERE??? COULDN'T HE JUST VANISH THE WAY YOR REGULARLY DOES SO TWILIGHT CAN FOCUS ON HIS JOB??? LIKE GO HOME OH MY GOD

And then there's the friend thing. Twilight has friends, he wouldn't classify them as friends but they're clearly on his side. Namely, he has Franky who he trust so much he gets to go little adventures with him and take care of his daughter. We even get a look at their meeting. Then there's Yor, Yor has no actual friends. There are her coworkers who fucking hate her for some unclear reason. Apparently she's weird (not even that weird just not very social because why give her an actual personality) so that means you gotta bully her like your a bunch of high school girls even though you're married adult women (one with a whole ass child). And then you introduce a new female character except she hates her because she's jealous of her, why, oh because of a man of course. I can't even think of a single other female character Yor talks to, and she clearly doesn't have any guy friends because make her uncomfortable.

"But the whole point is that she was a shy shut in and being with Loid and Anya makes her more confident" and you see why that is an issue right? Because when she's single and childless, she's lost and confused and isolated. The only genuine r/ship she has is with Yuri and it's fucking Yuri man come on. The only time she seems to feel fulfilled is when she gets to be a mother and a wife because fuck everything else. Dead parents? Groomed into a serial killer? Parentification? Workplace harassment? Vaguely suicidal thoughts? Who cares, her biggest dilemma is that she can't cook.

Speaking of which, that was a random fucking retcon. Because before she wasn't a good cook but she was competent. And then all of a sudden she just can't at all? Yor's whole fucking thing is that she raised her brother by herself after both he parents fucking died and I am supposed to believe she didn't even learn how to cook? You couldn't even let her have one fucking skill. Just a useless woman who does nothing but offer to make tea and coffee. Apparently she can kick ass but only when she's paid to or when her family is threatened (or just a child in general).

And the cherry on the cake. Not even the fucking dog likes her. Why doesn't the dog like her? Because she can't cook.

I am not even going to try to open the can of worms that is Lieutenant Yuri Briar because where would I even begin.

The one genuine developed relationship she has is the one with Anya and it's based on absolutely fucking nothing. She just decided this random child is her daughter now and that she wants to be her mother despite never actually expressing any interest in parenthood or children. Like she was a-ok throwing away all her freedom from before and just becoming a mother overnight because????????

"Oh she raised her brother-" That's more of a reason for her to NOT want to raise a child especially so suddenly. But who cares right? The only significance of that storyline is explaining Yuri's odd obsession with his sister, it didn't affect her psychological development at all. Because at the end of the day, she's a woman and raising and caring for children is instinctual even at the age of 12.

[kookieminsuga]

The Wolf and his Coyote - Part 4

Part 4! Things are starting to look up!

Summary; Jungkook is the leader of the biggest biker gang in Korea. He is never interested in people unless they can benefit him in some way. That is until he runs into a girl who is the only person who appears to not be afraid of him. New to Korea, Amalia is an artist who spends most of her days working on her comics at her friend Minhyuks diner who also happens to be Jungkooks favourite hang out spot. What will happen when Jungkooks, a man who's heart seems to be frozen in ice, interest is peeked for the first time since he can remember?

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Pairing: Gang leader jk x Tsundere, artist Amalia

Rating: 18+ do not interact if you are a minor!

Word count: 2.3k

Genre: Biker gang bts, action, romance, there will be smut down the line, angst, violence, humour.

Warnings: potential triggers, signs of trauma, Jungkook is SMITTEN, mentions of past, motorcycle ride, voice raising, arguing.

Amalias pov:

The roaring sound of engines cut through my thoughts, effectively snapping me out of my hyper fixated state. I look out the window to my right and notice 6 guys on motorcycles pull up. As they take off their helmets one by one, I notice it’s the guys from yesterday. Jungkooks gang. I guess this is the end of my peaceful day. 

Well, it had been very peaceful apart from the moment he decided to come talk to me. I still don’t know what he wants with me. I wish he would just stay away. At least he’s not too pushy. Like him.

I shake my head, not letting those thoughts creep up on me. You’re safe Amalia. It’s all in the past now.

The doors to the diner fly open as one by one those guys start piling in. Starting with one handsome man, black, long hair, cat like eyes, resting bitch face. He looks around the restaurant for his “owner” I assume. His eyes land on me as I look at him and he snickers before walking towards the other side of the restaurant as he spots Jungkook. 

What was that? Anyways, it’s time for me to go. I start packing my tablet and research materials back into my bag. I finish my cup of tea that Min had brought me earlier and get up to let him know I’m leaving. 

The restaurant is pretty busy for dinner time so I just manage a wave as I step out and head towards my bus stop. The bus arrives not too long after that and I start my commute home. 

The route is pretty long. I start with one bus, then a train and another bus. It’s better than sitting at home by myself all day tho, so it’s worth it. I read a book with my headphones on as per usual. About 20 minutes later, I arrive at the train station. As I wait for my train, I hear an announcement being made so I move my headphones to the side to listen.

“Train towards blue lines are all cancelled for the day due to technical issues, sorry for the inconvenience.”

Oh, well hell. I start to think of other ways to get home. A taxi would cost way too much from here for my broke butt. It’s too far to walk as well. I wonder if there’s other buses that lead close enough. 

I start to walk towards the street, where all the buses are and scan the signs to see where they went. Ah, there is a bus that leads close to the other bus I have to take, however it only comes every hour. I look at the time and, of course, the last one left 6 minutes ago. I guess I’ll be waiting here for a while. 

I sit at the stop by the street and take my book out again, getting ready for this long hour. 

Jungkooks pov:

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I wave at my group before heading off on my bike. 

The breeze hits my body as I zigzag through the streets of Seoul. As I drive, there only one thing going through my mind. “She hates your type”. My type. What is my type? According to Minhyuk I have become self absorbed. It shows that he doesn’t know me like he used to. Although the boy he knew is now dead and gone, I still don’t really know the man I have become. All I know is the hatred I feel towards him.

I shake my head, attempting to shake off these negative thoughts and feelings, heading towards my usual patrol. 

As I pass by the train station, I notice something that makes me instantly turn my bike around. Is that..?

I make my way back to the bus stop where a girl is resting her head on the side of the bus stop, sat on the bench with a book in her lap. As I approach her, I notice that it is indeed her. The girl from the diner. Minhyuks friend.

I park my bike in front of the stop, there being barely any cars that pass at this time, and walk up to her sleeping form. I look at her for a minute and she doesn’t even flinch. I kneel down in front of her and look over her features. Long lashes, small but plump lips and a beauty mark right below her left eye. 

She really is nothing special.

Then, her eyes suddenly shoot open, dropping the book in her hand and letting out a scream. 

“Hey hey, it’s just me.” I say, still on one knee before her. 

I take my helmet off so she can see me more clearly.

She looks down at me and then at her surroundings as if analyzing the situation. 

“Wha- what time is it? Why is it dark? Why are you here?” She says as she pulls out her phone and checks the time.

“Oh no! I missed the last bus!” She gets up frantically looking around.

I take my time standing and take a guess as to what had happened.

“Well considering you left the diner quite a while ago, I’m guessing you fell asleep here waiting for your bus until now, did you not? As for why I’m here, I was just driving by when I noticed you and just had to come say hello.” I say with a smile.

“Way to state the obvious.” She says as she rolls her eyes and sits back down.

She appears to be thinking, and as she said she missed her last bus, I guess she doesn’t have a way home.

I roll my eyes right back at her before heading to my bike. I feel her eyes on the back of my head. I lift the seat, pull out my spare helmet and turn back to give it to her.

“Here, I’ll take you home.” I say.

“Why would I trust a stranger with my address?” She says crossing her arms and legs and looking down.

“Oh so you don’t trust me with your address but you trust everyone else enough to fall asleep at a public bus stop?” I say, raising my voice.

I could see her visibly flinch as I did. 

“Who are you to tell me what I can and can’t do? You don’t even know me!” She says, visibly upset.

I sigh and take a deep breath. Arguing with her will get us nowhere.

“Look, I’m sorry I raised my voice. I know you’re new to town, but this area is very unsafe. Especially for woman. So when I saw you sleeping here without a care in the world for your safety I..” I cut myself off.

“You what?” She asks, turning to look at me in the eyes for the first time. 

“I know you probably won’t believe me considering what Minhyuk has probably said about me, but I’m not a bad guy. I care about him a lot and you’re his friend. So no harm will come to you around me, ok?” I say truthfully, avoiding what I was going to say before.

She continues to sit there and stares at me. I see the gears shifting behind her scared eyes that she tried to pass off as anger.

“Fine then, you can stay here.” I say as I turn to place the helmet back in my bike. 

Then I feel a tug at my back. It takes me a moment, but I turn to see her looking at the floor with her hand grasping the hem of my leather jacket.

“I’m sorry. I just.. I..” She stuttered. I could tell she was trying to say something very difficult for her.

“Its ok, you don’t have to tell me.” I said gently.

She nods and I turn to hand her the helmet. She takes it and puts it on like she already knows how.

“Have you ever been on a bike before?” I ask.

“I have. I can drive one too.” She says matter of factly.

My eyes grow wide as I stare at her in shock.

“What? Is it that shocking? Is it because I’m a woman?” She says crossing her arms and staring me down.

“No, I just… I didn’t expect it.” I say while sheepishly rubbing the back of my neck. I quickly put on my helmet. Why does my face feel warm?

I get on my bike and look towards her. She still seems unsure, looking down and fidgeting with her hands.

“Common, I don’t bite.” I say, reaching my hand out towards her.

She looks at my hand for a few seconds before reaching out and taking it in hers. 

My heart skips when our skin touches. What was that? Get a hold of yourself Jungkook.

She then comes closer and throws her leg over, taking a seat behind me. I feel her trying to push back and turn my head to see her grab a hold of the bars on the back.

I sigh in frustration.

“Just hold onto me please? It’s much safer that way.” I say revving my engine.

“Are you sure?” She says shyly.

This girl goes from shy to attitude to shy in an instant huh?

I smile, “Yes I’m sure.” I reach back and wrap her hands around my waist.

With her front pressed against my back, I head off in the direction of her home.

As we drive through the streets, I feel her looking around as if my hometown is all new to her. I hear her little gasps as we come into view of beautiful sceneries. I could feel her loosen and tighten her grip on me as we turn and speed up and slow down. It’s funny, I usually don’t like people riding behind me but I don’t mind it with her. She’s not purposely trying to grab a feel as she holds onto me, like the other girls I’ve taken for rides passing it off as just holding on for safety, no she’s different. She keeps her hands tied together across my stomach and doesn’t move them an inch. 

We approach her street and I come to a full stop. Strangely, I feel slightly upset at having arrived already. She gets off first and then I do the same, kicking the stand up to park. I turn to see she has already taken off her helmet and has the widest smile on her face.

Woah. What a beautiful smile.. 

What was I just thinking? Snap out of it! Luckily, my helmet was still on.

Her hair blows in the breeze as she looks at me.

“Thank you for the ride home. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a motorcycle, I forgot how great it feels. Oh and I’m sorry I was so rude.” She says while fiddling with her fingers.

I take my helmet off and give her a smile. 

“Don’t worry about it. It’s good that you don’t easily trust people. That intuition will keep you safe around these parts.” I say genuinely.

All of a sudden her eyebrows furrow as if she just thought of something.

“Wait.. I never gave you my address. How did you know where I live?” She says while taking a step back.

Oh right. She still doesn’t know I was there that night.

“Yeah about that, I mean, I didn’t want to just say I know where you live. Probably would have sounded creepy at the time.” 

“Well it’s sure creepy now, so can you answer my question?” She says with her hands on her hips. 

I guess the attitude is back.

I laugh at her ever changing personality, which for some reason, I find adorable.

“The truth is, these are the streets I usually patrol at this time a night. I don’t know what Minhyuk has told you, but my gang is not like the usual gang. We like to watch over our city and keep the innocents safe.” She just stands there looking at me as if urging me to continue. So I do.

“One night, I was patrolling as I usually do, when I crossed by this alley and saw a man following a girl. I was about to step in when suddenly, this girl turned and smacked the guy in the balls with her bag.” I laugh at that last part, still finding it funny.

I see her eyes light up in recognition. 

“Oh! You were there that night? I did find it odd that he didn’t try to follow me.” She pondered with her hand on her chin.

“Yeah, don’t worry, he won’t be following you again.” I smirk.

She stares me down. 

“What?” I ask.

“You didn’t kill him, did you?” She says.

I look at her, my eyes then turning serious.

“I don’t kill people. Not unless I have to. It’s not my place to take lives.” I say stuffing my hands in my pockets. 

Although the question stings, I do understand why she would ask. I am the head of a gang after all. It’s true that I don’t like to kill people, but it would be a lie to say I never have. 

“Ok well, thanks again for the ride.’ She pauses,’ and for protecting me that night I guess.” She says, looking up at me.

She hands over the helmet.

“You’re welcome.” I look down at her smiling softly. 

“Have a good night.” She simply says as she starts walking down the alley towards her home.

“Hey!” I say before she reaches her door.

She turns and looks at me with a questioning raised eyebrow.

“What’s your name?” I ask.

She looks at me for a moment before answering.

“It’s Amalia, but you can call me Lia. Consider that an honour.” With that, she turns and heads inside.

I can't help but laugh at her last comment.

Amalia.. that’s a different name. I like the sound of it.

I start walking down the street, beginning my patrol. Unable to wipe this stupid smile off my face.

[icystorm76]

Lauren’s comments on Ep 4

My sister has now watched Ep 4, and again I wrote down what she had to say. She has never read the books and has no idea about basically everything. Anything in parentheses is my comment on her comment.

Her reaction to Ep 3: https://www.tumblr.com/icystorm76/753858454799761408/laurens-commentary-im-forcing-my-sister-to-watch

“The title of this is “I want you more than anything in the world”, which GREATLY concerns me”

Claudia’s performance

“Wow, she in the show”

“Ok this is kinda creepy”

“Yes, slay Claudia”

“Claudia must hate this. It’s like her biggest pet peeve, being treated like a child”

“His face!!!”

“Ok, that ghost thing is kind of cool”

“Ok, that is abuse again”

“So what happens if Claudia falls in love with another vampire who was turned as an adult”

“I want someone to edit that scene with “it’s a small world” but it’s just Claudia on stage”

Coven meeting after performance

“Anne rice you kinky little bastard”

“It’s funny because she doesn’t like windows when they close but I don’t like Louis boyfriends when they abuse”

“He’s kinda daddy with those muscles”

“Abuser. Victim”

“Understand his commitment issues. Please.”

Louis and Armand

“Wow, eww, keep that gay stuff to yourself. Yes. Thank you. One time I’m with you Lestat.”

Dubai

“He has sad eyes. Daniel does. He looks like the restaurant guy from ratatouille”

*Extreme sarcasm* “Thank you Louis, that cleared it up”

“I feel like his face would be fun to sculpt”

“What? Fire at the theater?!”

“PTSD awareness too. That’s crazy”

Claudia and Santi’s convo in the wet room

“That moment when trying to be a cottage core bitch comes back to bite you”

“Awwww, they’re going to be friends!”(NONONONONO CLAUDIA AND SANTI ARE NOT GOING TO BE FRIENDS)

“Daddy vamp?!?!? I’m using that”

“Marketing campaign, she lays on the ground like she’s fucking dead”

“When are they going to notice she doesn’t age”

Dinner with the coven

“I love how they’re like “we need to get far away from Lestat, who has a French accent. Let’s go to France!””

“Awww, she’s smiling!”

“Du ponte du lac, say his full name”

“Theoretically, if him and Lestat got married he would be Louis Du Ponte Du lac De Lioncourt”

“You know what I need? Lestat drawn by the same person who did Miku binder Thomas Jefferson”

“Why don’t vampires have Orgys?”

“Don’t put all my sexual comments in here. People are going to think I’m oversexual, tell them in not oversexual!”

“That’s kinda gay”

Les+Lou and Claudia+Madeline

“This feels like a scene from a marvel movie, the way it’s shot”

“Is he a goat?! Hello?”

“Oh God, I knew he was going to say that. I knew he was going to say that. You vain bitch”

“Yeah, I think we learned from your last family that thats not always good.”

Art gallery

“Wow, that is doing to much.”

“Look at how bored Lestat looks”

“I love how it’s been years and years and none of the vampires are over their exs”

“I feel like I’m in therapy”

Louis and Claudia’s arguing and Lestats goodbye

“She keeps repeating things. It’s like in books when they do that Oh. Oh. OH. Thing. It was nice the first time but after that it felt like she was looking for things to say.”

“I like the detail that he’s not getting wet because he’s not really there”

“Yo butt gonna get wet. People gon think you peed yourself”

“Oh my god he’s imagining Lestat with emotions”

“Oh my god the snap just happened”

“Ok. Idea. Daniel fucked Santiago.” (She is really stuck on the idea of Daniel fucking a vampire, she just keeps choosing the Wrong one)

“Is the dark gift really just a vasectomy?”

“There it is!”

“I am… so confused. What just happened?”

[minotaur-asterion]

Cold [insert entire emoji list here]

Do it >:)

This took me 20 days, Sal! Curse you! (Shakes fist)

🏳️‍🌈 Sexuality: Unlabeled! I don’t label any of the voices’ sexualities

🏳️‍⚧️ Gender: Unlabeled, UNLESS within Stubborn’s line of sight, in which case they’re both female until they break line of sight

😇 Religion: I mean… Cold’s a fragment of a god. He probably should believe in his progenitor? He’s not the type to worship, though

🧸 Childhood: In my human/magical girl AU, Cole’s raised by a single father. Him and Hernando are childhood friends (I’m just a sucker for childhood friends)

👻 Fear: Already answered!

🎶 Music: He prefers super energetic music, like breakcore and hyperpop. Classical is alright, but it can get a little boring if he’s not doing something while listening to it

👽 Quirk: He loves loves loves knives. Throwing knives, cooking knives, stabbing and parrying and hunting, he loves them. He has a collection in his closet; they’re in tip-top shape but he never uses them

💤 Sleep: Cold sleeps like the dead. No dreams, no talking in his sleep, no moving around in the middle of the night. It freaks everyone out until they see his chest move

🦾 Disability: Some of the star-shaped scars on his body will give him bouts of weakness or phantom pain when touched

💝 Love language: Physical touch all the way. If he’s sitting with someone at least one of his limbs is draped over them or touching them somehow. Cold likes to lay on top of others like a cat

🫂 Friendship: He doesn’t normally verbally express to his friends that he loves and supports them, but even so, he’s always in their corner and is willing to defend them

💔 Angst: Somehow, despite not having any parents, Cold has mommy and daddy issues /lh

🪢 Family: Since he’s so deeply connected to The Long Quiet and the idea of what they were supposed to be, he considers them the closest thing to blood family he has. There’s the other voices, sure, but that’s more found family than anything. He still thinks about The Long Quiet sometimes. Misses them, maybe

📓 Hobby: Already answered!

👗 Clothes: Cold’s wardrobe mainly consists of sweaters over revealing clothes. The sweaters are always worn off-shoulder. Always!

🔪 Fighting: Cold is an incredible ambusher, able to go for the weak points quicker than the eye can follow. However, he’s horrible at defending himself- a glass cannon of sorts

🌟 Desires: Cold wishes he were easier to entertain. Interesting stuff can come and go but it’s hard to land on something long enough to feel as though he can stop trying to look for the “next thing,” so to speak. It’s exhausting in of itself

🥇 Excels at: Cold’s good at killing. He’s good at the guitar. I don’t see what other skills he would ever need /j

🍫 Food: He’s not good at eating whatever’s put in front of him. Most foods are the wrong flavor, wrong texture, wrong smell, or some combination of the three. Liquid foods are usually the safest, so those are usually his go-to

🎭 Lies: His biggest lie, he has told to others and himself- he doesn’t feel anything. The others have preconceived notions about him that causes backlash when he tries to expand beyond them and express his feelings, even unintentionally, and it causes him to retreat back to his stoic shell

❤️‍🔥 Romantic: Cold has trouble trying to differentiate between platonic and romantic attraction, so he usually tries to look to the other person to determine what he should be feeling. Once he decides their relationship is romantic, he’ll begin to develop a little crush

💄 Appearance: If he doesn’t close his mouth the right way, sometimes his fangs stick out from beneath his lip. Think of this like a cat mlem

🖕 Anger: The sight of a visibly angry Cold is rare, since his anger is implosive. He’ll bottle it up and let it out in private and resorts to complaining to blow off some steam

🐱 Animal: If Cold came across an animal, chances are they’d get along. (Unless it’s Beast. Beast will eat him) He thinks snakes are neat

😬 Worst Thing Done: Besides slaying damsels? He eats cereal dry. FOR FUN.

😭 Worst Thing Happened: Probably the stuck in the void thing. In his opinion, metaphysical death is so much worse than physical death

😶 Random: Cold’s favorite piece of media is Waiting For Godot. The play features characters who are waiting for something that’ll never come- something he can immensely relate to

[scammydoesstuff]

heya, I saw your post and I'm really sorry you had a disappointing experience with Neil; I get that BG3 and Astarion shot him to fame but there's still a lot of fans around for his older roles actively posting fics and art (karl, nikolai ginoviev, kamsi etc), so it's not a dead fandom by any means. Village isn't an 'old' game either (it's only 3 years old??) and anyone who says so is wrong imo. I hope your week gets better~

Thank you for the kind words.

I've been mostly spending the last week recovering from being sick and drawing to get out the negative feelings while also trying to rationalize a lot of that interaction.

Honestly, I didn't want to make that post super long, so I didn't go in-depth with all of it for the sake of brevity (because I tend to over explain and get to be very long winded - as you're about to see). I do want to insist that I don't necessarily blame Neil for it being negative. I'm sure it was mostly on me and I'm also sure I was overreacting. Drawing that was just my way of getting out some of those negative feelings instead of spiraling.

So, in regards to the convention: we wound up waiting basically 2 days to even meet Neil. Not...because we wanted to, mind. His line was crazy long every day and it wasn't uncommon to see people sitting down in his line, usually waiting for him to come back from a panel or a photo op. All the lines were moving slow all weekend, though. Not just his. That was one of my biggest issues with the convention as a whole and a critique genuinely unique to this one since the last Fan Expo I went to wasn't nearly that bad.

Our weekend was unfortunately pretty booked as well, so we couldn't wait all day and, after being in his line for nearly 3 hours that morning and barely moving, we had to leave for a lunch reservation with some friends who could only be there for one day after he left for a panel, cutting the line off. They did give out little numbers to anyone who'd been waiting up until that point to hop back into line later that day, however, if we had somewhere to be.

Due to short staffing at the restaurant, lunch also ran long and we didn't end up getting back until about an hour before the convention hall was set to close. We ran to Neil's line where they were cutting it off and, I'm super ashamed to admit, I let my boyfriend lie our way back into line (he told them we were leaving that night instead of staying the full 3 days we'd paid for, which coerced them to let us enter the line anyway) and spent the rest of the wait feeling guilty and really tempted to leave despite knowing on some level that this would likely be our last chance for the weekend. That's still on me. I could've said no and just left and not been a total piece of shit, but I didn't. Granted, other people got in line after us, so they weren't being that strict about it anyway, but I digress.

Regardless, we were already pushing it and I know that and I regret it. When we get to the front, I already wanted to keep things brief; get an autograph if I could, but mostly show him the Heisenberg plushie I'd made not long after the game came out.

(this is the plushie, btw. He took months to complete because he's entirely hand sewn - with the face being hand-embroidered - and was a major comfort project because of a lot of things going on in my personal life at the time that were causing me major stress. I've been hoping Neil would come to a con close enough for us to travel to at least so I could show him and this weekend was finally the opportunity I was waiting on).

So, we get to the front of the line and I see that he doesn't have any Village prints. Frankly, outside of Astarion, he doesn't have any other character prints except for one, which was a general Resident Evil group kinda thing with all the Resident Evil characters he'd done. There might've been one other, but I don't think it was for a character? It might've just been a headshot, but I could be wrong. I just know it wasn't Heisenberg-related, so I do not remember it clearly.

I was disappointed, but I decided to get the Resident Evil print anyway. I was initially going to have him sign a trench coat I'd made while working on the plushie. It was kinda practice to learn how to make the coat for that project and now it's just...my Heisenberg coat that I wear in winter. It's very warm. But I never ended up showing it to him after we finally get in front of him because the guilt was just too much.

So we start off and I was trying to be jokey and playful as I said 'I'm kinda disappointed you didn't have any Heisenberg prints' while showing him the plushie, but I can definitely see how, regardless of the tone I was trying to use, didn't come across right. So maybe *I* came off as rude instead despite trying to just...start a conversation about how I really liked Heisenberg? Totally possible. I'm not denying that.

And that's when Neil said that they don't bring prints along for Heisenberg anymore. That Village is an older game, so they don't get a lot of requests for it anyway and thus they save space when traveling. More disappointing. I started feeling worse because I could tell he was tired. It was the longest day for the exhibition hall to be open and he was still going even after everyone else was closing. He did arrive an hour after the hall opened, but it was still a long day, I know. I felt guilty and shitty, but, once he was done signing, I could properly show off the plushie - including the little cigars I'd made that he can hold cuz he has magnets in his hands. Maybe that would make him smile and lift his mood, y'know? So I was excited for his reaction and...

Nothing. Maybe a little laugh in that 'oh, that's cute' kinda way. He kinda did the voice when he saw it, but not really. I just...felt myself sink. I felt so embarrassed to have been so excited for this. My boyfriend asked if he could get a picture of Neil holding it and he did, but I was just...done. I wanted to leave because I realized that this was a mistake. It was late, he was tired, and this character doesn't mean much anymore because it's an older game that's been well overshadowed by Baldur's Gate III.

We wrapped up and left and that was it. I couldn't bring myself to say anything about how much Heisenberg meant to me as a character. I couldn't make myself show off the things about the plushie I was so proud of. I just wanted to leave because I felt like such a leech and that I shouldn't have done this.

I'm not dismissing the way I handled all of this. Looking back, I blame myself for my own bad time and I definitely blame myself for that interaction being as bad as it was. Neil was tired and, to a degree, he's right; it's not the new game that everyone's obsessed with right now. I shouldn't take it personally.

But it's easy to say that. It's so much harder to actually follow through with it. I couldn't help but feel upset because everyone else in line who'd seen the plushie would get excited to see it. Even the event manager who was hanging around at the end of the day told me I should sell them. Hell, back in April of this year, I even got to meet Maggie Robertson, who happened to be going to Fan Expo Cleveland (I live in Ohio, so less travel for that one). I thought it'd make her laugh (cuz, y'know, the size difference is accurate, right?) and, despite acting offended that I'd even bring him before her at all, she was still excited to talk about it and seemed to enjoy engaging with it. She was delightful and clearly still loves her character and that game, which made the contrast of meeting Neil so much more striking and...kinda hurtful...

So yeah...Sorry. That's a whole lotta words for 'I'm surely the reason it was so bad', but ye...Kinda got me out of an art funk, I guess. So that's something...maybe...