#And I do love incredibly strong characters having to hold the sky to save their friends

[phoenixcatch7]

Identity reveal shazamily fic idea:

They're fighting some big bad in a huge cave or throne room or in an air pocket miles underwater (the Rock?) and the league and shazamily are all there, every two stuck in separate areas (magic barriers? Cave ins? Enemies simply not letting them close?).

The roof is starting to collapse. Billy catches it, but with his powers divided, he's struggling. With a time limit before he falls, the battle intensifies.

Mary and her jl partner fells her opponent first, and looks across the room just in time to see him stagger under the crushing weight. She cannot reach him (in time?). They meet each others eyes. The wisdom of Solomon, or perhaps Mary batson, has an idea.

In a crash of thunder, she detransforms, in front of their enemies, and the entire justice league.

With power returned, captain marvel stands a bit straighter. The roof grows heavier. Cracks scatter across the high ceiling.

As Mary is carried to safety, the family understands what they must do.

In conjunction with the league member they were trapped with, they work to defeat their opponents, and one by one transform, each time revealing people too small, too young. The crash of thunder marks each victory. Rubble starts to fall and shake the earth as the league members pull their partners to safety, gathering together by the entrance, bandaging their wounds. All eyes are on Marvel, trapped under a great pillar of stone. (They have been working with him for years now, but each of his family has been revealed to be children. Is he, too?) Each time he raises the ceiling a little higher, and each time it grows heavier as the battles and the ticking clock destabilise the thousands of tons above.

At last, the final group win, and exhausted league members piggy back the last child hero over the rubble.

All are evacuated, but Marvel cannot move. Rapid power transfer and hours of stress have taken their toll, and he needs to transform back as well.

Finally, finally, green lantern and superman reach him, and with their help he is freed, collapsing to the side in relief. No one says a word.

With one final lightning strike, the last member of the team is revealed.

He's twelve years old.

And the league needs to take them all to safety.

[xiaojianggshi]

enhypen as winx club boys

the nostalgia this show gives me has a vice grip on me........ i had to give it some justice. this was done by using general concepts of the cards and relating them to personality traits of each of the characters along with my own interpretations given from the cards. may contain spoilers, i might do a follow-up reading for the fairies LOL

also this image is giving so much weezer it is INSANEE...

ace of wands rx., nine of pentacles, temperance, two of swords rx., strength, ten of wands rx., queen of pentacles, page of cups, the moon rx., judgement, eight of swords, the lovers, the high priestess rx., the tower, seven of swords

for heeseung, sky seems to be the best option. something about him is just false, a complete act which mirrors how brandon and sky switched identities for the start of the show. sky is also a prince which is similar to the sort of independence and drive he has.

there are a little more parallels aside from what the cards have given me. heeseung is the oldest member so in terms of wisdom, he is basically the leader and the caretaker of the group. he may not be the official leader but he is still seen as pretty influential amongst the other members.

unsurprisingly, jay seems to be the most similar to nabu (i love nabu he deserved better). nabu is one of the best characters in the show. he is a really charming guy, patient and a mediator. nabu also had to make the decision of sacrificing his life to save many people.

this is such an interesting cross LOL... similar to jay, nabu is very dedicated when he sets his mind to something, being as nabu travelled around the world looking for his wife to find more about her (it wasn't as creepy as i'm wording it). jay as we have seen through i-land, has so much ambition, he really is admirable for it.

again, unsurprisingly jake and brandon. both of them are confident, pretty strong-willed guys who know what the want (and in some cases WHO they want). not to mention, they are both incredibly flirty and very good with smooth-talking.

heeseung and jake seem to have a pretty close relationship, both on and off camera. it is fun to see this with sky and brandon since they are also really close friends. they both act without much worry or burden, the definition of free-spirited. aside from that, brandon and jake both are able to be VERY loyal to specific people.

sunghoon seems to align the most with timmy. both of them are very stable people. however, they can tend to appear cowardly sometimes as they are not very outspoken and are passive. they also think out of the box and are able to express themselves in different ways.

one way of expression for sunghoon is figure skating. from watching him skate, i feel happy for him and he looks happy. as the only figure skater of enhypen, it makes him feel special and lets him release pent up emotions. for timmy, his relationships tend to be the most stable as he is able to communicate his thoughts well.

this one is going to sound very wrong, but hold on, sunoo and riven. sunoo is much different than how he presents himself. they are both resourceful and can tend to work on their own, lone wolves in short. even if their actions are horrible, they are working for themselves.

both seem to be very adaptable and intense with lots of cards up their sleeves. both work very hard to fix their flaws and imperfections. that is, when they do realize these faults and how they may affect those around them. also, from a more external viewpoint, they both show a particular sass to them that is entertaining.

jungwon seems to be the most similar to avalon. both are integral parts of their work, avalon being an important character of season 2 and jungwon being the leader of the group. they have their own pursuits, which similarly to sunoo, may not align with others.

when i mention avalon, i mean both of his counterparts, the real one who is wise and determined, but also the fake one who is incredibly cunning. he has a diplomatic side to him, a connection between two sides that he relays messages between under the idea that it is his duty. he works best (and the most) when it is in his favor.

niki is someone revolutionary for lack of a better word. there definitely is a better way to describe it, but it is so foreign to me i am not sure.. i think he is a lot like helia given the fact that helia is one of the most visually different of the specialists.

as i mentioned in a previous post niki seems very private and hides a lot. i think they both may have issues with voicing their opinions. both helia and niki are very artistic. helia likes to write poems and draw, niki has shown an interest in fine arts as well, such as painting and photography. not to mention they both are rather deep thinkers.

[surrealsunday]

I think the issue with Payu and Rain is that they had no interesting storyline. Boss and Noeul had amazing chemistry and even though Rain was immature and kind of annoying in the beginning, he ended up growing on me a lot, and it also worked with the dynamic of the couple. What annoyed me the most was their big Climax ended up being very underwhelming and the conflict just came out of nowhere and honestly didn’t make much sense to me. It was kind of odd tbh. Pai and Sky had so much more richness to their story in a way the former couple didn’t. They had a much deeper connection by the end of the series and I felt Payu and Rain were lacking a bit. Even the conflict of “Payu is cheating on me because I saw 0.2 seconds of a friendly interaction without any context so I’m gonna run away” felt a bit lazy in the writing department if I’m being honest. It’s such an overused trope that it just bugs me anymore when I see it. I think I would’ve enjoyed the first half a little better if their storyline had a little more substance to it. I’d still rec it to people but it’s be more of a “it’s terrible but you’ll love it” kind of thing. It’s a guilty pleasure lol!

Please keep getting hooked on BL’s because I need more of the good ones. You’ve gotten me hooked on at least two now.

- Crazy Theory Anon 👋🏻

Crazy theory anon hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 😊❤️️❤️️❤️️

Ok yes 100% to this. I did not even get into the Payu/ Rain storyline because I literally forget it exists lmao. What even was that final hour conflict?! I've talked to another friend about this too. It was just unnecessary. They could had had the climax conflict for that storyline be Rain's reservations about being public with his relationship, and how that would be a problem considering others' desire for Payu and the general jealousy they both harbour when it comes to the other. But I guess they were held back by the book storyline which I'm assuming was about what we saw play out on screen. Also as an aside, Chan wasn't a character who was poorly presented at all. He honestly was pretty cool. But kinnporsche has ruined me and literally all I could think when Chan came on screen was that Kinn would have done it so much better 😂.

Pai and Sky absolutely had a better, more interesting, and more appropriately developed storyline. I was pretty nervous about how the show would handle such a serious topic. In general I watched LITA in a pretty light-hearted way, so it made me nervous that they had introduced a storyline with real trauma and dark themes. But I was pleasantly surprised by how it all went down. I thought overall they did a really good job of showing how Sky's trauma affected his life and relationships, and they managed to make him a truly strong and incredible character, even as they had Pai 'save' him in many ways (not in a 'love heals all wounds' way, but in a 'the loving, unconditional support of a partner can help you begin healing' kind of way). I hate the 'oh no he's cheating' trope too, but at the very least, it made sense from Sky's pov and how they had built the storyline (with Pai being a playboy, and Sky’s self-worth being 6 feet under). And I appreciated that they resolved it in one ep and it resulted in such an impactful confrontation and confessions of love. I was worried about how the Gunn stuff would go too but I was soooo satisfied with how it was handled. I appreciated so much that they didn't go the route of Pai bursting into the room and freaking out in jealousy or thinking Sky was cheating, etc etc. That they had him confused and worried and holding back on his reaction until he understood the situation made me love his character even more (and then beating in Gunn's face was just a bonus 😌). And I don't think I will ever get over the way the line 'Can't I be only yours?' destroyed my heart and soul. That is the kind of angsty line that will stay with me (I say that as the highest compliment).

I do love that the show gave such different pairings tho and neither tried to be the other. Payu and Rain were the sort of ridiculous, fun, light-hearted pairing that I would expect of a comedy in uni... the kind of couple you can believe date through uni and who knows about the future. Sky and Pai were the much more intense 'soulmates' kind of bond that I am a total sucker for. And it was done so believably that the marriage convo at the end wasn't forced at all but made perfect sense - it was the future I saw for them. So I like that whatever characters or relationships people preferred in the show, everyone kind of came out winning.

Love that you get into these shows too tho! It's so much fun! I really only have two recs in the BL world so far apart from Kinnporsche (tho I agree LITA is definite rec in a ‘it’s terrible, you’ll love it’ way lol). I'll summarize them below, but have you watched Not Me? You gotta watch that one. For some reason when I saw stuff on tumblr about it, I didn't think I'd like it. But my god... I was wrong. Watch it! And the other is Manner of Death (different experience but more adult and genuinely so enjoyable). Here are some details so you can decide for yourself:

1. Not Me - The easiest rec. It’s completely brilliant even outside of the world of BLs. The actors are seriously phenomenal, their chemistry is top notch (they’re apparently one of the big BL couples, though I didn’t know that before watching), the storyline is really apropos of the world’s current state, it’s not explicit in the way Kinnporsche or LITA are but it’s not PG, and the soundtrack (which personally really affects my viewing experience and can make or break a show for me) is 👌👌👌. Watch it.

2. Manner of Death - I loved this one but I will qualify that statement by saying I loved the murder mystery plot and if that isn’t your jam, you may not, because while the love story is absolutely there, the murder plot is at the core of the show. I loved Max and Tul as the leads (their chemistry is 🔥), I loved the dark, adult plot-line (this not a teeny bopper romance or storyline), and I loved that I was surprised multiple times while watching. I will say that Tul is a much weaker actor than Max imo, but he still managed to create a charming character, and the actors’ chemistry makes up for anything lacking.

If you watch either, you must let me know your thoughts! 

[wutheringmights]

Can I be greedy and ask for all of the boys ? And any characters you have strong opinions on? Pretty please? With lots of cherries and chocolate on top? ( for the ask meme ofc)

Anon, I'll finish up all of the boys in the Chain just for you. And trust me, I have an Infinite Amount of Strong Opinions. You have no idea how Opinionated I Am.

If anyone is coming in late to this, here are the boys I have done already and a short summary of my thoughts (click the hyperlinks to get the full Opinion):

Warriors: he's best when he's the trashy anti-Link, and I like him so much

Twilight: kind of boring, but I have a soft spot for him anyway because you never forget your first

Wind: should have been aged up a little so that he can have that identity crisis I'm craving

This... gets long. Really long. 3-hours-of-work-long. Before you read, please note that even when I speak negatively about something, it’s not to diss anyone who does like the thing. I’m not vague posting or being passive aggressive. This is all written in good humor and good faith. 

That being said, let’s a-go!

-Sky-

What I love about them: He has one of the best character arcs of all the Links. I love that he starts off being lazy and kind of a jerk, but grows as a person because he wants to save his friend. And I love that he's truly the most courageous Link. He has no other successful hero of past or legacy to lean back upon to reassure him. He walked into that fight with Demise with no assurance from anyone that he would succeed. Yet, he does it anyway. Because he's a true hero and someone had to be one. And he's rewarded with a curse that he does not initially take seriously. He thinks he's saved everyone, yet he's cursed his spirit, possibly his bloodline, and his entire legacy of the kingdom of Hyrule into a doomed cycle of destruction. All because he dared to face evil incarnate. I love him.

What I hate about them: You know how I called Twilight boring? I should have saved that critique for Sky. LU Sky is actually the most boring interpretation of his character. All of his negative traits? Gone. All of his positives? Also gone. He's the blandest version of himself, and like Twilight, I now feel like I gotta add some spice to him to make him more interesting while still keeping him recognizable. Even so, he's still one of my favorite Links.

Favorite Moment/Quote: When he kicks Twilight's ass at sword fighting. That's stuff is *chef's kiss*

What I would like to see more focus on: You would think that there would be more angst out there about him realizing that he's actually been cursed, but it's still kind of hard to find. He's the Cursed Knight! The beginning of a terrible legacy! Imagine meeting a bunch of heroes for the first time, and instead of being relieved at having someone who understands your experiences, you're filled with horror at realizing that your victory was a false one. You didn't win. Your spirit will never be at rest. Imagine dealing with that realization for the rest of your life. You could never be at peace.

What I would like to see less focus on: I love that he loves his wife, but he's more just the fact that he's married, y'know? I would like to see a little less blind devotion to Hylia and Zelda, and more complicated feelings about being manipulated into being the hero.

Favorite pairing with: Sun/Link/Groose OT3! I have no reasoning behind this other than I like Groose and Groose definitely had a crush on SkSw Link.

Favorite friendship: I won't answer Groose again even if I want to, so I'll say Warriors. I cannot begin to describe how elite this friendship would be if you gave it a chance. They're just two boys dealing with unique positions of leadership and responsibility. They would probably even bond over being shitheads at different ends of the shithead spectrum. It's so good, okay?

NOTP: Ghirahim. I'm not too adverse to this one, but the ship hinges on whether you can redeem Ghirahim or not. In my opinion, Ghirahim is awesome because he's such a fun villain. Redeeming him ruins the fun.

Favorite headcanon: I have a whole life story planned out for Sky. Basically, he lives to be close to 500 years old by the power of the Triforce. He is the Link throughout the Era of Chaos who banishes the Dark Interlopers to the Twilight Realm and seals the Triforce in the Sacred Realm. He actually seals himself in the Sacred Realm as well to keep the Triforce safe, and he fought Ganondorf in when he broke in. Sky, like Time and Wind, does not get a happy ending.

-Four-

What I love about them: Four is origin of the heroes of Hyrule being known for being children. What a legacy to leave behind. He's such an interesting case of an incarnation of the Hero's Spirit, too. He fought Vaati, and he did his job so well that Demise's next incarnation had to be Ganondorf. Four did his job the best out of everyone, and it came at the cost of creating a magic sword that changed him permanently. I like to think that the Four Sword was not meant to split him, that it was a mistake he made with the design. And it's sad, isn't it? You made a defective sword, and like any good sword, it has a symbolic double edge. It gifted you with so much, and yet he can never be the same again. And his story is never well-remembered because it is overshadowed by the Links who fought the King of Evil. He's does so much, yet his legacy is underappreciated.

What I hate about them: I want to prepare you for this Opinion, because I know it's unpopular. Are you ready? Okay. I don't like the Colors. I'm sorry. I want to like them, but they don't interest me at all. Because they are parts of Four’s personality, they have to be one-note archetypes which does not make for exciting storytelling. I also haven't found a fic yet that has been from Four's POV that did the internal monologue of the Colors in a way that wasn't a pain in the ass to read. Maybe if someone can figure out how to do the Colors in a way that doesn't feel like a drag, I would like them more. But in the end, I think Four himself is more interesting than the Colors.

Favorite Moment/Quote: The fact that he didn't want to touch the Master Sword because he doesn't trust magic swords. That is every I need to know about his opinion on his own adventures.

What I would like to see more focus on: I want more of Four as Four. It's getting harder to find content of Four being his own person first and the Colors second.

What I would like to see less focus on: Four being the Colors first and his own person second. There is something about viewing Four as this cover identity for the Colors that doesn't feel right. There's a balance that needs to be strike between his ability to split, how that affects his every day life, and his own identity of being Four. I think I may have read one fic that hit that sweet spot for me, but still.

Favorite pairing with: Shadow. I'm such a sucker for befriending and falling for the enemy. That is all.

Favorite friendship: Dot! Their friendship is super cute. I like the idea of them being super close when they were younger and struggling to keep the friendship going as they age due to how much their paths in life diverge.

NOTP: This isn't necessarily a Four or an LU problem, but people who ship the Colors together? Bro. C'mon.

Favorite headcanon: I'm torn between two different Four and the Master Sword headcanons. On one hand, Four thinking that the Master Sword is just legend until he meets Sky and everyone else is just a fun idea. He sees the legendary sword for the first time and his mind is blown. On the other hand, I also like my Four with a side of hubris. What if he had the option on his quest to draw the Master Sword himself? What if he could tell that if he did that, the consequences would be terrible. He's not sure what would happen, but he knows it would be terrible. So he decided to make his own sword instead to disastrous results. Wouldn't that be tragic or what?

-Time-

What I love about them: Last winter, I did a two hour powerpoint for my friends about the Legend of Zelda timeline. During that powerpoint, I was rating every iteration of Link. What I said about the Hero of Time then holds true to my thoughts of LU Time now. Time is the original Link, more so than Sky in the lore and Legend/Hyrule in real life. Every other hero is a reflection of him. So the fact that his story is about the loss of childhood and the tragedy of that is incredible, and you can see those themes reflected in every other game. Moreso, he’s the only Link with a confirmed tragic ending. Not only does he end his life unsatisfied, but his adventure is failure on every timeline. In the adult timeline, Hyrule is swallowed by the sea. In the child one, Ganondorf returns again. In the fallen timeline, Hyrule fell. I like the idea since that the games themselves are the legends that are past down about each hero, Hylians have also remembered Time as a tragic figure. Yet, they also remember that the happy moments for his life come from small acts of kindness. Even someone as sad as him finds joy in helping others, even if it’s just to small deeds that will not be heralded as grand heroic quests. It’s beautiful.

What I hate about them: This is more about Mask than Time, but Mask is not an adult in a child’s body. He did not rewind time in Termina enough to be considered mentally an adult. He’s a young teenager at best, and that’s me being generous. He is a child who was forced to be an adult and despite the gods being done with him, he cannot conceive of ever having a childhood again. So he can say all he wants that he’s an adult, but he is not. That’s just what he thinks he is.

Favorite Moment/Quote: Anytime we get a flashback to him being a younger adult is great. I want to see more of his in this his early adulthood.

What I would like to see more focus on: I think I just want more of Time being... not a bad leader, but being an imperfect one. I honestly think he’s only the leader because he’s the oldest and enough of the heroes recognize the title of Hero of Time. But he is not the leader type, and he is struggling to keep it together and has to defer to Twilight and Warriors for help a lot. 

What I would like to see less focus on: I’m not the biggest fan of Dad!Time for any of the Links. He’s not emotionally ready for it. And I think he defaults to treating the boys like adults because that’s how he wanted to be treated when he was their age. 

Favorite pairing with: Malon. He has this great partnership of equal respect with her and it’s just. So good.

Favorite friendship: Linebeck. I know. This exists only in my head. But if these two ever meet, you cannot convince me that they would not get along swimmingly. It would be so good (once Linebeck gets over his crush on Time and stops hitting on him, of course).

NOTP: Child Timeline Zelda. Let me explain: I fully believe in Bi Time supremacy, and when in OoT, he definitely had a crush on Sheik. However, one of the worst parts of rewinding time and being in the child timeline is that Zelda is a completely different person now. They may have been friends in the other timeline, but her life experiences are completely different now. She is not the same person as he once knew. And it’s tragic to know someone as who they could have been, not as they are.

Favorite headcanon: After Termina, Time spent a lot of time with the Nabooru because out of everyone he knew, she’s the only who took him seriously even as a child. She has big older sister energy, and he considers her a part of his family. However, being treated as such made it easier for him to ignore his issues and put off his healing process by a few years.

-Legend-

What I love about them: Veteran of Heroes! What a freaking title. I love that he keeps on finding adventures, and that he keeps hustling. Even if he complains about never getting a break, you can tell that he loves helping others. He loves being on the road, never settling down, and finding adventure after adventure. Honestly, if any of the Links had a calling to be a hero, it’s him. Is he tired? Sure. Is he a little jaded after having saved Hyrule and a bunch of other kingdoms multiple times? Yes. But at the end of the day, he likes being a hero. This is who he is. His complaining is not genuine; he just plays the martyr because, at this point, he’s earned the right to.

What I hate about them: If you can’t tell by now, I have a, uh, different interpretation of Legend from popular canon. Fandom Legend is not right to me. He is unrecognizable. It is hard to write him because I feel like I have to balance what other people think Legend should be versus how I think he is. The people who are big Legend enjoyers probably feel the same way about my version of Warriors, and that’s fine. I’m not going to gel with every character and I don’t expect everyone to gel with how I see characters either. It’s goes both ways, y’know.

Favorite Moment/Quote: I like how subtly he tried to approach the Wolfie problem at first, trying to ask questions and get more proof before confronting Twilight. It’s a good touch.

What I would like to see more focus on: If I had to choose one thing, it’s this one throw away line about him never wanting to settle down. I’m telling you, folks! He likes his lifestyle! And did you see him when he does presenting the origins of the hero? He’s not bitter about being a hero! Legend is moody, but he is not angsty about the whole hero thing. Have fun with him please!

What I would like to see less focus on: If you can’t tell by now, Legend is my least favorite Link. There is a lot I want to see less of, but just to name one thing, it’s the headcanon that Fable is his sister. I live and die by common born Link, and whether he’s a legitimate heir or the royal bastard, I am more than bored with the persistent Prince!Legend content.

Favorite pairing with: Marin. It’s a good tragic story and I like it well enough. She’s cute, and he’s cute with her.

Favorite friendship: Warriors. I’m with everyone else on these two have peak sibling energy. They tease and pick on each other, but only they are allowed to mess with each other. They’re each other’s bully, and it’s always good to see.

NOTP: I do not have enough energy to have a lot of strong opinions about Legend’s romantic relationships, but I will mentioned that I have lost a lot of love for Ravio recently and am liking seeing him with Legend less and less. I have no better reason for this than the fact that I finally played ALBW and hate how many of my hard earned rupees he’s taken from me by withholding important, lifesaving items. Rat bastard.

Favorite headcanon: Remember my headcanon about him being the coolest bad boy folk hero on the block because everyone thinks he kidnapped Zelda? Yeah, I still stand by that one. I did good there.

-Hyrule-

What I love about them: If there is any Link that I would call a gutter rat, it is this one. I struggle a bit to talk about Hyrule since his games gives us so little, but in the end, I always fall back on him being a hero of the people. He is the one who has nothing and relates the best to people who are at their lowest. Yet, he is still a hero. He earns the right to be a hero because he helped Impa in her time of need. He’s selfless and competent. Even if he never got a traditional education, I bet he’s wicked smart too. He is the Link that symbolizes all of the parts of the Triforce the most. And, god. I cannot talk about him without mentioning the blood sacrifice part of LA. It’s such a cool concept, and I cannot imagine what it must be like to go from being the rough and tumble, win-at-all-costs fighting to protecting yourself first because if you don’t, the consequences are disastrous. It’s paradoxical, and it must be such a different mindset to fall into. But it must also be a blessing in disguise since now he has a reason to finally care about himself.

What I hate about them: Who started the Hyrule is innocent headcanon? Come over here because we need to exchange some words. If there is anyone who would be a realist and know how the world works, it’s this guy. And while we’re here, who came up with the Hryule is always lost headcanon? I also have some words for you. And you know what? WHILE WE’RE HERE, who let him be named Hyrule? I’m have more than choice words for you. His name scheme is the bane of my existence and the express reason why I don’t write him more. God.

Favorite Moment/Quote: That one panel where he takes utter delight in Warriors hiding from his scorned lovers? That is a central pillar in my understanding of Hyrule.

What I would like to see more focus on: Again, his relationship with other people. Even if his games are lacking in NPCs, we know from lore that he’s a good guy who will jump in to help others. He must know plenty of people, and I want to see who exists in his world with him. 

What I would like to see less focus on: I have an on-going joke with my brother that certain characters are Catholic, even if Catholicism does not exist in the world of the thing we’re watching or playing. Of course, we’re not being serious. we’re just joshing around. So imagine the gut punch I feel whenever I see people say Hyrule is Christian and realize that they’re being serious. I just can’t take it seriously.

Favorite pairing with: Aurora. It’s cute and I’m a sucker for that hero and royalty dynamic, especially when the hero is a peasant. It’s so cheesy, but I love it.

Favorite friendship: Legend. But not the way everyone else pairs them up as the grumpy one and the sunshine one. I think of it more as them being the pinnacle of boys being boys. They’re shitheads. They do stupid shit together. They both have a dark sense of humor. They joke that they’re practically the same person sometimes.

NOTP: uhhhhhhhhh.... Is he paired with anyone else?

Favorite headcanon: I love the idea that he just likes his way of life and refuses to accept anyone saying otherwise. Legend wants to teach him to read? Sorry, but he’s never had to read before in his life so he’s pretty sure he’ll never need it anyway. Want to participate in the treasured Hylian tradition of piercing your ears when you come of age? Why would he ever do that when a monster could rip those earrings off? He’s stuck in his ways and it frustrates everyone else to no end, but he has no interest in ever changing.

-Wild-

What I love about them: When I was 9, I spent my time online on Legend of Zelda forums. I remember one of my forum friends saying that they wanted a Legend of Zelda game where Link lost. And I think of that friend whenever I think about Wild. BOTW Link is the best Link that has ever been. He is the epitome of every trait we associate with any Link. He’s smart and sassy. He’s hard working and kind. But underlining all of that is the fact that he’s still the one who failed. If Demise’s Curse in SkSw is the set-up, the Great Calamity is the payoff. And I haven’t even talked about how confirming him as being non-verbal before the Calamity does so much for his characterization. I don’t even know where to start or how to articulate it. By game storyline alone, Wild is one of my favorites.

What I hate about them: You guys knew this one was coming, but I’m going to have to say it anyway. Fandom Wild.... not good. I’ve said it for half of these boys so far, but god is it true. I have a way I see Wild that is rarely done in the fandom. Fandom Wild has a lot of the traits I also see in Wild, but to all of the extremes. I will mention one thing in particular as being a pet peeve, and it’s how some people headcanon him as always being nonverbal. I know what they’re trying to do, and I think they’re on to something, but they’re also missing the point of what BOTW Link’s character arc is. I just wish more people would forget fandom and work more off of the games for how to characterize him.

Favorite Moment/Quote: Weirdly enough, my favorite moment is when he got mad at everyone for making fun of his Gerudo outfit, so he dumped Goron Spice in his cooking. It’s encapsulates a part of his character I think a lot of people forget about.

What I would like to see more focus on: I think he has a really complicated relationship with his past. He said himself that his old self felt like a different person, and I think that should be explored a lot more. That idea actually fascinates me so much that instead of CTB, I almost wrote a character study fic about Wild. His emotions are not as simple as feeling guilty about letting his friends die and not preventing the Calamity. His emotions would be so complicated and because I don’t have the time to explore it, someone else needs to do it for me.

What I would like to see less focus on: There is a weird fascination with Wild having memory loss and essentially being like a kid again. And this feels infantilizing to me. It honestly bugs me a lot every time I see it.

Favorite pairing with: I can’t decide between Zelda, Mipha, and Revali. They’re all different dynamics and they’re all good.

Favorite friendship: Paya. I firmly believe that Paya is Wild’s best friend. I am the only one in the world who believes this. But I am also the only one in the world who is correct. 

NOTP: Wild is good with everyone. Good for him!

Favorite headcanon: An essential scene of my Wild character study I will never write is one where his horse dies. He goes into shock and walks back to Kakariko to talk to Impa. But once he goes to her, he breaks down in tears and has an absolute melt down over the horse. And Impa sagely says, “It’s not about the horse, is it?” She’s implying that he’s actually mourning the loss of his friends, Hyrule, his life, everything-- but through his tears, he keeps tell her that she’s wrong. He barely remembers them. He doesn’t know them. He doesn’t have any feelings about them. He just really loved that horse. But Impa refuses to listen to him, just repeating over and over again: “it’s not really about the horse.”

And that’s it! That’s all of my opinions! I know a lot of my opinions are polarizing, but everything I said is in good faith, and I am not trying to diss anyone for how they approach these characters.

I welcome you to send me your Opinions on the Links, even if it’s just to disagree with me. I’m cool with it, and I like knowing what everyone else thinks!

[yandere-sins]

My Name

Horrortober Day 6: Time “How long has it been?”  

Oh man, first Xiao piece and I??? Really enjoyed it???? When will he come home, I’m desperate for my lovely boy ;;

Warnings: Yandere, Twisted Thoughts, Fighting/Death of monsters, Planning of Kidnapping Characters: Xiao x Reader

How long has it been?

It felt like Xiao waited forever for you to call him. He would have loved to deny that he waited for it… but he did. Ever since he told you to call when you needed him, he had been waiting—hoping!— you would, rather sooner than later. If only he could get a good look at you again, he would feel prepared enough to face his duties again. You were the beacon of light in his life, no matter how harsh he spoke to you or faked disliking you. Your job wasn’t any more dangerous than any other in this world, making you travel back and forth cities to sell your merchandise there. You needed someone who could help you if things went downhill. 

You needed Xiao. 

His fingers were still tingling from the feeling of your body as he held you. Even when you squirmed and flinched in his arms as he defeated the monsters bothering you, you were warm and soft, and you smelled like dirt- But the good kind! Xiao didn’t know how else to describe it. You’ve been on the road for a long time, showers weren’t your priority probably, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind. You were perfect just as you were.

And finally, you called. Or rather, screamed into the disappearing sun on the horizon, for Xiao to come and save you. You fulfilled the promise to ask for his help any time, and he fulfilled his by coming to your rescue. No matter how weak he felt, how much he wanted to vomit at the sight of more and more foes arriving. With you, weakly as you were, leaning into his chest, avoiding your eyes from the death and fight, he would have defeated armies of Hilichurls if necessary. All while holding you, never letting go of his precious sun. 

The toll on his body was tremendous, his breathing ragged. Still, standing in the middle of disappearing corpses, Xiao was victorious. For you. For both of you. He turned his head to look at you, the disheveled hair slick with sweat out of fear and flight instinct. You weren’t made for the outdoors; not as long as they were cruel and dangerous. You wouldn’t have come out of this attack unscathed if not for him. 

Letting go of his weapon, he petted over your head, pushing it down and combing out some leaves. He knew he was rough around the edges, unfit for gentle comfort. But if he could help your shivering to wane, he would have tried anything. You once showed kindness to him; he had to repay it. 

Helping you towards a big stone out in the open, you two were stumbling over your feet while you grew wary, looking up and realizing there was no fight anymore. But Xiao wasn’t about to let you go, much less leave you alone right away. He’d stay. It’s been too long, and the temptation to be close to you too big.

Making you sit down, you folded like a sack of potatoes before regaining some composure. You were fidgeting with your ripped sleeves, avoiding looking up at the dark matter rising to the sky from the dead Hilichurls. Instead, you looked at him, studied him, his hair, expression, the hands that tried to desperately be gentle as they searched for wounds on your body. Xiao didn’t mind. You could stare as much as you wanted at him as long as he didn’t have to respond to it. Silently, he was begging you to look more at him. Just… a little more. Look at him as if he was your hero.

Edgy, you called him after bothering him at the balcony of the Wangshu Inn. No one allowed you to be there; Xiao didn’t want to have company that night. But you couldn’t sleep, and sitting on the roof appeared to be a better alternative than turning in your bed to you. He told you he hated your presence, and you laughed, saying it was fine. Fine. How could it be fine? You told him about your business and your family even though he never asked, and then you asked about him and his past. He… he had been weak. That night, he had fought and conquered and been incredibly weak afterwards. So he told you, and you laughed again, telling him how edgy he was before leaving him behind, confused and irritated by your words.

The next day, you brought Almond Tofu and left him a note, thanking him for sticking with you and be honest.

He didn’t forget about you ever since.

Even Xiao felt stupid for seeing you off when your stay ended. He had no business meddling with you or anyone in your world, but now that he finally saw you again, he was furious for letting you go. What he should have done was hold you back, make you stay longer. But when you thanked him for offering his help, smiling at him so kindly, he let go of your arm, and gone you were. Only to end up battered and bruised, just like he feared.

“How long has it been?” he asked, dragging his finger over a bruise that wasn’t fresh anymore. It was at least two or three days old, yet, no tint lighter than as if it happened just now. Instantly, his throat was clogged with guilt. And though his question wasn’t about the bruise, you answered honestly, confirming the two days he assumed.

“I meant, how long has it been since someone called for me,” he corrected himself in a mumble, a question you were in no place to answer. Years. Decades. So long, he didn’t remember the last time. But now, you did. You. The person he wanted to answer to. Only, he was too late anyway—he couldn’t protect you either.

“You need to be treated,” he worried with a stern face. Anger flitted over his features as you shook your head, wiping away the tears of panic you had produced. “What I need is to get to Mondstadt,” you argued. Thick-headed. Stubborn. A thick-headed, stubborn, weak human, that’s what you were. That’s what you were supposed to be, but his heart throbbed painfully as he cursed you in his mind. Not even his body wanted to think badly about you, much less Xiao himself.

“No,” he denied your idea firmly, placing his arm around your shoulder and hooking the other under your knees. There it was again, that tingling sensation that overcame him when he touched you. You were squirming some more against his actions before you tensed in pain. Bruises would heal. Cuts would close. But if there was something internally, something Xiao could not see, then he didn’t know how to help you. It was him who was pathetic, still knowing nothing about the humans he was protecting silently from the shadows. He was pathetic because he denied getting close to them, fearing they’d make him weak.

And he had been right. You made him weak. Weak in the knees, weak in his head. Gone was his keen mind and tough body. Now there was only the invested, curious, worrying Xiao. Xiao at his worst, and he hated himself for it. Seeing you hurt and in pain made him want to be strong even more. So he could protect you when you would call his name. But he wasn’t sure if you would after he already let you down.

Xiao knew everything about the lands around you. He knew where the closest doctor was, and he’d get you to them and then… then what?

Gnawing at his lip as he waited for you to get better, he stood there in silence, clothed in the darkness of the room you were offered to rest that night. There had to be something he could do. Something only he could do for you. He didn’t have the leisure of traveling like you, and he wasn’t a human that could join you easily either. But he was strong if you didn’t warp his head into the miserable state he found himself around you. He could protect you, but how would he do it?

There needed to be a plan soon. The sun was rising, the day promising to be beautiful for travels. And you would want to go. Because as wondrous and loveable as you were, you were also stubborn and weak. Duty-bound, like him. But both of you couldn’t share this trait, not when he wanted to keep you from danger instead of making you rush headfirst into it. One of you had to compromise, and as the sun was setting, Xiao realized something else.

If he was strong, and you were not. He, an important Adeptus, and you, another human between so many, then you needed to be put back into your place. A place of safety. Somewhere close to him. It was a stretch to assume other Adepti would help him, but they could create realms. Safe realms he could carry with him. Even if he didn’t know how to wager with them, much less address the issue, he knew they played a vital part in the role of keeping you safe. He was almost jealous.

Xiao looked back at you sleeping soundly, your chest falling and rising under the blanket. Bandages were all over your body. The doctor made sure you knew the risk you had taken, traveling alone and vulnerable and enduring injuries you should have gotten checked up. You were careless and ignorant to the dangers of the world, even though, deep inside you, Xiao imagined you were just as scared as anyone else. It would be nice, right? If he could take this fear from you. Keep you safe and sound and with him at all times. He’d do you a favor.

A future without worries and fear, the dream of so many of your kind.

Stepping up to your bedside, he reached out to your forehead, remaining still as you furrowed your brows when you noticed his warmth, but then you relaxed again. Maybe you knew it was him. Maybe, deep down in your dreams, it was him who made you feel safe right now. Xiao wished he was. Still, he disappointed you, but he wouldn’t do it again. He’d make sure that you wouldn’t have to be in pain and scared anymore. For you, and only you, he’d do it.

Letting his hand slip down your face, his fingertips brushed over your cheek and to your lips, his touch lingering a second too long to be appropriate. Flinching away, he scolded himself for touching you there, pink flushing his cheeks as he shook his head. He was busy; there were preparations to be made.

Leaving behind Mora, he had no use for, and a note to the doctor, he told them to keep you as long as they could. Knowing where you were would make his life easier, even though he wouldn’t leave a stone unturned and a monster alive if he had to search for you. There were no lengths he wouldn’t have taken for you. The thought scared him because he didn’t know how to handle this feeling that burned inside of him at the mere thought of you. But it scared him even more to see you like last night, and he wasn’t sure his heart could take it if it happened again.

No, he couldn’t let it happen again.

How long had it been since someone called his name? One night. The next time you’d call for him, how would it sound? Sweet? Affectionate? Thankful? Praising him for his work and dedication for you, accepting his snide remarks, and laughing at him again with that kind voice of yours? He couldn’t know it yet. But with a jump in his step, he would have never thought it could be the complete opposite.

Angry. Scared. Horrified.

[cherrycheridarling]

chemistry test | t.h.

tom holland x actress!reader

warnings: fluff and acting..?

summary: you're auditioning for the role of silk in the new marvel film. they've already chosen their spider-man and now it's time to see how much chemistry you two have.

wc: 1.9k

"Hi! I'm here for the Marvel auditions?" you greeted the lady who sat at the front desk.

"Hello! What's your name?"

"Y/N Y/L/N."

Nerves were running through your veins at lightning speed. The lady gave you a kind smile and told you to head to room three hundred and sixteen. You returned the smile before heading to the elevators.

Upon entering, you were faced with at least fifteen other women who were also auditioning. All with black locks and brown eyes. You'd be lying if you said you weren't slightly intimidated. Sure, you had done some small films here and there, but looking at the competition now was frightening. A lady came and handed all of you a small script. At least it was a distraction. You spent the entire time reading your lines and trying your hardest to memorize them.

You sat in the waiting room for at least fourty-five minutes before your name was finally called and you were escorted into another space. Once you entered, your eyes were immediately drawn to the long table where the producers, casting crew and directors - who you've met hundreds of times in your previous auditions - were sat. You shook hands and gave greetings, the usual.

"Y/N, meet our new Spider-Man." Kevin gestured to the brunette boy at the front of the room.

He was cute. Dangerously cute. His small curls that laid messily only seemed to add to his appeal.

You smiled and walked over to him, "Hi. I'm Y/N Y/L/N. It's great to meet you." you offered your hand.

He returned the grin before shaking your hand, "Tom Holland. It's a pleasure." you noticed his British accent and couldn't stop yourself from the confused expression that took over your features.

"You're British?"

He nodded with a smile, "That I am, but," he switched to an American accent, "I can turn it off, too."

Your smile grew, impressed by his ability, "That's so cool. I would try a British accent, but I feel like I might offend you."

He laughed with you for a bit, his hand still holding yours. You both noticed the predicament and quickly withdrew your hands. Sheepish grins showed on both your lips.

Joe Russo cleared his throat, "A little background information in case you're not familiar with Cindy Moon's story."

You silently thanked him for this since you were not at all familiar with whatever the character entailed. Only getting small glimpses of her personality and behaviour before you got thrown into the mix of auditions.

"Cindy and Peter went to the same school and got bitten by the same radioactive spider. A man took Cindy and trained her, but also hid her in a bunker when her powers became too much for her to control. Her Silk Sense – which is her version of a Spider Sense – is incredibly powerful. Stronger than Peter's. In this scene, Peter is saving her from the bunker. Understood?" he spoke so quickly that you nearly didn't catch it all, but nevertheless, you nodded your head.

"Got it." you put the script to the side and took off your jacket.

"Now," Kevin spoke, "Remember, this is a chemistry test. So we want to see – not just how compatible your characters are – but you guys, as well."

Your palms began to sweat. You already knew that they were looking for chemistry, but being put on the spot made your anxiety sky rocket. You nodded again in understanding.

"Sounds good." Tom went to the other side of the room, "Good luck." he sent you another frustratingly attractive smile.

You nodded with your own grin, "Thanks, Spidey."

You spotted a small cot beside you and made your way over, laying with your back to Tom. Ready to start the scene.

"Action!"

Before any lines were given, you lifted your head, but kept it facing the wall. As if you were listening for something, waiting for something.

"Spider- Boy? Guy? Spider-something." you spoke to the wall and a second later, Tom's footsteps were heard behind you.

"I prefer Spider-Man." Tom's voice filled your ears as he leaned against the wall. "Nice to meet you, Cindy Moon."

You held a hand to your head, as if a painful migraine had just arrived. "Your presence is causing me pain. Who-" you looked up at the man, recognition dawning on your features, "Peter."

"W-what? N-n-no, no, no. Who's Peter? I'm Spider-Man." he insisted rather poorly. Deepening his voice.

You turned your body around, hanging your legs off of the cot, "I-I feel it. I remember you. Parker from my science class. Left row, three seats behind me. And my math and history. Front row in history. Middle in math. You always had a new backpack every week."

"Eidetic memory." he mumbled under his breath.

"Hm?" you furrowed your eyebrows.

"Nothing. Never mind. We can discuss this later. You need to get out of here. And I have come to save you from whatever this place is." he eyed the space with disgust.

You eyed him suspiciously, "Is this some Disney movie? Is there a magical horse drawn carriage waiting outside?"

He showed a boyish grin, "I guess you can call me your knight in red and blue spandex."

You scoffed and stood up, "Okay, Parker. How'd you know I was here?"

"Oh! This awesome dude, Tony Stark, he knows, like, everything! A-and he told me that you were here and sent me on a mission– Which is so cool! But yeah, he told me to come and save you. And that is what I am doing." he jumped up and down like an excited child.

You eyed the space around you, "Wait. M-my powers. I can't control them. I-I mean, I'm trying, b-but it's still—"

"—We can focus on that later! Right now, the richest and sickest guy on the planet is requesting you. C'mon." he grabbed your hand and, as scripted, you both locked eyes immediately.

You tried your best to look like you were falling in love. And as you stared into his deep brown eyes, you found that it wasn't that difficult. He stared back into yours. His hand still wrapped around your fingers. Your free hand travelled to his face, as if you were about to pull his mask up. Resting your palm on his jawline. His other hand that wasn't grasping yours, rested on your hip. A light pressure that nearly sent you into a haze. You both began to lean in and it no longer felt like acting until you squeezed your eyes shut, shook your head and pushed him away rather aggressively.

You put a hand on the wall, drawing heavy breaths in and out, "W-what are you doing to me?" you looked at him through heavy eyelids.

Tom was in a similar position, back against the wall, hand over his chest, "Mister Stark said that m-might h-happen." his head was thrown back against the wall, showing off the expanse of his neck as he swallowed. "Something- Something about our senses causes a strong- How do I say this? I-Intimate attraction between us."

Your eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowing, "A-an attraction? An intimate attraction? To you? Ew."

He pushed himself off the wall, "Glad to see you haven't changed one bit, Moon." he walked away from you, "We really need to get going. You- Oh! I've been wondering this: Where's your webbing?" he looked around as if he was searching for it.

You stuck your hand out and pretended to shoot a string of silk out of your finger and onto the wall. Tom followed your movements with a starstruck expression.

"That's sick! I have to make mine." he frowned, "We got bit by the same fricking spider and yours is in your hands? Let me see!" he came closer and attempted to grab your hand again before you quickly put it behind your back.

"Don't touch me." you spoke slowly, "I-if this attraction is caused by physical touch. Please, do not touch me."

He plastered on a playful smirk, "Oh, it's more than physical, Moon."

You rolled your eyes and stepped away from the wall, "Dream on, Parker. Are we going to this Mister Stank or whatever?" you waved your hand with a limp wrist.

Tom gasped, "He's Iron Man! It's Mister Stark! Stark! Not stank! And you need a suit. Mister Stark has one ready for you at the compound, but you need something to wear on the way there." he looked around for one.

As if it had just dawned on your character that you were finally leaving the bunker, your attitude changed. A smile gracing your lips.

"I think I can do a little something."

You gestured your hands around yourself, pretending to create a suit from your silk. Tom watched with amazement, "Hey, how are you doing that?" he bent down and examined your body from head to toe.

"I had a lot of free time on my hands. Costume on-the-go. You like?" you smirked as you continued your movements.

Tom nodded his head as he came back up to stand beside you, "I could've saved so much time and money by doing that."

You finally completed your gesturing with a grin, "Ta-da! A bit sticky, but I think it'll do." you pretended to stretch around in the costume.

"Okay, let's go, Moon—"

"—Nope. Nuh-uh. When I'm webbed up like this, call me Silk." you smiled triumphantly.

And with that, the scene came to an end. The producers and casting directors all stood and clapped for you and Tom. You smiled widely at how successful it had gone. Before you could even react, Tom pulled you into a hug. Arms wrapped around your waist. Without a second thought, you wrapped yours around his neck with a laugh.

"You were amazing!" Tom praised you with a wide grin.

You couldn't help but to smile, "Thank you! It helps when you have an awesome scene partner."

His cheeks turned a shade of scarlet at your compliment before Anthony Russo spoke, "That was amazing! Thank you, Y/N."

You shook your head, "Thank you for having me."

Joe came and shook your hand, "Expect a call on Monday. Keep your ringer on." he smiled.

"And that wraps up the chemistry tests! Great job, everyone!" Anthony announced as you handed the script back to them and threw your jacket on.

You swung your bag over your shoulder and made your way to the door.

"Wait!" Tom called from behind you.

You stopped in your steps and turned around with a kind smile.

He held out his phone, "Since we're going to be working together, might as well get to know one another." he had a timid grin.

"Don't jinx it, Holland." you let a light chuckle fall from your lips.

He shook his head, "It's not jinxing, it's manifesting and you were by far the best Cindy Moon. You've already got the part." he insisted making you shake your head.

"We'll see about that." you punched in your number and before you could add your name, Tom took his phone back.

"Wait." he quickly typed away.

'silk'

You smiled at the contact name before offering your phone. He typed in his number and took it upon himself to put the name.

'spidey'

"I'll see you around, Y/L/N." he gave you a little salute making you laugh.

You nodded, "Definitely, Holland." you turned around and walked out of the door.

Both of you were so engrossed in your interaction that you didn't notice the producers and casting directors watching from afar. Proud smiles dawning their lips.

They found their Cindy Moon.

[mcmactictac]

Ramble time!!!! Boy oh by do I have thoughts today!!!

(It’s been a while since I’ve read the books, I plan a re read soon so sorry if everything isn’t totally accurate!)

Why do I never see anyone talking about how low Percy’s self esteem is? I feel like we all make him out to be this cool, know it all guy who is super confident right? But he ISNT. And throughout the series you can see aspects of his mental health shown in different ways, but I find it the most interesting to look at the difference a POV change makes.

We as a reader know that Percy is powerful, but we don’t get a sense of how he comes off to other people until we get Frank and Hazels POV’s in Son of Neptune. Both of them are in awe of this kid, I mean Hazel thinks he’s a GOD IN DISGUISE when she firsts meets him. That’s no small feat, and almost everyone seems to find him incredibly impressive and intimidating too.

But when we get Percy POV’s (I’m talking mostly PJO here but HOO is also applicable) he’s totally humble? This is the kid who beat the god of war as a 12 year old with virtually no training in combat, or of his powers. That’s a HUGE deal. And Percy never really has that big moment where it’s like “woah, I just beat the God of war, that’s a massive deal”. He constantly undermines his own achievements, simply in the lack of acknowledging and appreciating them. It’s just another thing to him, something he did to save others. He’ll literally hold the sky and brush it off like it was nothing. And it seems like it’s nothing, but he consistently does it! The readers don’t notice it as much because we don’t know any different. It reads as just being insanely humble, but there are times when you deserve to step back and appreciate what you accomplished. Percy rarely (if ever) does that, and often just passes it off as luck or a mistake that it worked. Something that worked out by chance, and not a pattern him being successful.

I personally like to believe he doesn’t notice or brag about any of these things because of his low self confidence. Objectively, beating a god is an incredibly impressive thing, that Percy would praise in other people, but when it’s HIMSELF it doesn’t matter. That’s what his expectations for himself are. It isn’t an achievement but more of a “congrats, you didnt screw up this time. Don’t know how you pulled that off”. It’s more of being excited/surprised you didn’t fail, instead of celebrating the achievement.

Battle of the Labyrinth. There’s a lot going on there. Literally most of the main characters in this book have a crush on him. Annabeth, Rachel, Calypso, and Nico all express interest in him, some more clearly than others. And for the most part? They are NOT subtle. Even though readers only have Percy’s POV, it’s still blatantly obvious to us that Annabeth, Rachel and Calypso all have feelings for him. So why doesn’t Percy recognize it? I mean you could argue that he is unobservant, but we see everything narrated through his eyes. Which means he sees and processes everything we know. He is totally aware of the signs of people flirting with him, but he just cant comprehend the fact that someone could be showing interest in him and doesn’t even consider the possibility. Most of the time his reaction is genuine surprise when he realizes someone has feelings for him. He can’t wrap his head around that idea without being explicitly told. I feel like this relates into confidence again because despite all the signs being there, he automatically assumes that he’s misreading them. He basically doesn’t view himself of someone worthy of having a crush on.

People with ADHD also have a tendency to have way lower self confidence: Since they are constantly told they’re doing something wrong, or misbehaving, or corrected on something they can’t control, it can be really challenging to not feel like a failure, or think something is wrong with you: Not meeting up to neurotypical standards can be incredibly challenging, and can make people feel bad about themselves when they don’t meet those standards. People with ADHD often receive so much external criticism, and If you don’t realize what you have it can potentially be even harder, since you are constantly trying to match a neurotypical level, and not understanding why it’s so much harder to reach. That negative talk you hear so often around you gets internalized into your own narrative, and makes you more critical of yourself as well. I’m sure having an abusive parent only made this worse. The way Gabe talks to Percy and about Percy sets him up as this problem child who doesn’t deserve anything. Sally is amazing, and I love her, but she can’t magically undo the negative impact all of that commentary from Gabe, teachers, and peers has had on Percy’s view of himself.

It’s also interesting when you look at HOO, when everyone is comparing Percy and Jason, and who could win in a fight. Everyone has their thoughts and opinions, and it’s something Jason thinks about a lot. Jason and Percy view this “rivalry” in a really different way. Jason has been raised to be the best, he is a strong and capable warrior who is pretty confident in himself once he starts to remember who he is. Jason worked his way up and earned his position as a leader, it was something he wanted and chose to be. He is confident in himself, and just wants to prove to others that he is strong and capable, a leader worthy of putting trust in. Percy on the other hand was forced into a leadership role. He was forced to take his first quest and he had no choice in being the child of the prophecy. He doesn’t even really want to be, I think he would have been perfectly happy if it was Thalia’s problem instead. He adapted and learned, but he still doesn’t see himself as a leader. He feels as fake as he did as a young kid, having no idea what he was doing. Faking it all and hoping that no one would notice the doubt he hides from them.

Just because Percy doesn’t see himself in a “negative” light, does not mean he doesn’t have severe mental health issues. Since it’s a children’s series, obviously a lot of it is glossed over or lies more in the subtext, but I wish it was something the fanbase acknowledged more because its so interesting!!

[peeterparkr]

invisible string;tom holland.

summary:  life has a way of pulling you and Tom close to each other, then it pulls you apart. 

 “It is like an invisible red cord or thread which connects you to that one person you’re destined to meet, your true love.” 

soulmate au

word count: 6.4k

pairing: tom holland x reader

warnings: breakup mention, fluff, angst. fluffy angst. 

LOOK I TRIED TO WRITE FLUFF BUT I’M NOT GOOD AT IT SO ANGST CAME BUT I TRIED BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

heavily inspired by folklore and evermore by taylor

thanks @jambrosemc for helping me you’re amazing

So, this is for one of my best friends here, @badhollandfluff, Delaney I’m sorry this took so long but I wanted it to be perfect for you, surprise!!! I’m your secret Santa! Love you, hope you had an amazing Christmas and I wish you a happy new year, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. 

Thanks to everyone who joined, happy holidays!! 

No one ever has time. We’re always running and rushing and trying to save a little, it’s always like we have it counted and we never truly realize time is passing by. The clock keeps ticking. You were a victim of that, sometimes, always running, never knowing why. Time always going faster than you wanted it to be. 

Until it stopped, it had stopped since last year. 

There you were now. A white mug. These days you don’t really see that. Everyone has the paper cups with the coffee collar. Their names scribbled on black that probably still smells like sharpie. But you were holding a white mug, that now was just slightly stained by your pink lipstick. 

The mug was stained inside too, with the leftover foam of your capuchino. You were letting it set cold, watching as the people would walk in. Waiting. 

You trailed your gaze around the room, there are some couples around you.

You liked the idea of this café, with people gathering around just for the simple fact of drinking a hot coffee out of a mug. You like to come here, to sit out your thoughts, sometimes you’ll find some time to work, read. But you’d be alone. You’ve been lonely lately. 

It didn’t matter, it’s fair to point that out. But today, you were going to meet him. Again. 

But you didn’t know that yet. 

You had once read about soul connections, interested if you’d ever find your own, seemed like most people around had met them. You hadn't. Not the one you were longing to find, that is. 

Bizarre. 

Honestly, you didn’t believe in them. Or you liked to say that to yourself, sad enough to admit you hadn’t found any type of strong connection. 

Or maybe you had. 

But it made absolutely remotely no sense, at all. 

How could you? There was absolutely no scientific proof that there were soulmates, and though everyone said you could feel them, that you’d sense it, and though the extinguished sadness on your friends could be proof enough, you were still sceptic. Maybe just doubting if you’d find yours. Or maybe you didn’t want to accept who was yours. 

Because Tom had left. 

Your friends had assured you that when they’d found it the world had turned idyllic, a pink life. 

Yeah, it had felt like that when you’d found Tom, but now everything was gray. 

However, you knew more about them than anyone else. You had researched about them, you had read about them and you were so informed that you sometimes didn’t even believe it. 

Though you liked to ignore that sometimes there was a song stuck in your head without reason or there was a sudden joy, that had no possible explanation. 

“It’s your soulmate,” someone would point out. 

It wasn’t, it’s just Tom’s favorite song. 

There was also a sense of pain, sometimes you didn’t understand why you felt such a heartbreak, how bad had they hurt them? If they did exist, that is. 

They didn’t, though. 

You’d read about that heart connection, that feelings connect trying to understand how it comes and goes.  

There are three types of connections. Karmic partnership, soulmates and twin flames. Different types of connections. 

First ones, karmic partnership, and it is as bad as it sounds. They’re often confused as soulmates and people like to cling to them. They’re… awful,  being the one heartache that is there to teach a lesson, the one person that is there to show you something about yourself, the one person who is strictly there for character development, let’s say. The one person you fall in love with and keep falling in love, but it’s not love,  no matter how many times they hurt each other they go back. It’s not love, though. Or maybe it is, but there reason they exist is strictly to make you reason. It becomes….Cyclic. Until you finally decide to break the cycle. Intense transformation, the one person that makes you see yourself from a different perspective and change. There is, however, no compatibility. 

Probably what you had with Tom. But… no, it wasn’t… There was too much compatibility. 

You’ve had your fair share of them, maybe you’ve had 

Then there are the soulmates. The perfect compatibility. 

The one connection that is beautiful, a person that you just… feel it. The one person you feel like you’ve waited for them your whole life. Strong compatibility, there are more than one soulmate, that is to say, it could be friends, it could be family. It doesn’t have to be a romantic partner. There are soulmates that you wonder how they can be such an incredible connection. 

Everyone has soulmates. You knew you’d met some of them, the friends one that is. None of them a connection strong enough to be your partner. Not that you didn’t want to, though. 

Or maybe you didn’t want to acknowledge it. 

You’ve read somewhere in the internet that there are connections that go beyond your wildest imagination. Go beyond soulmates. The… twin flames, the one your soul is so attached to, you can feel their pain, their joy. 

Journeys end when lovers meet. 

It’s fair to say, you’ve never believed in that information. Less after a heartbreak. 

You had a million thoughts over your head, oozing you with stress and feeding your not long enough sleep schedule. You were slightly angry, you’d say. You didn’t like him anymore. 

There are two kinds of people when it comes to liking someone. The ones who go forward it, fighting for it, hinting on it. Flirting as if there was no tomorrow. People like Tom. 

And then there’s people who run away from feelings and try to pretend to act natural around their crushes. People who definitely don’t want to overstep boundaries and are afraid of ruining friendships. People like you. 

But there was nothing to ruin now, was there? 

Because there’s also people who give up. People like him. And people who never dare to forget. People like you. 

It was never even. 

But you keep daydreaming about him and can’t help that tinge of red spreading across your cheekbones every time he was near you. You shouldn’t have given in. You should’ve fought, but you were reckless. A sunrise dropping by again, and you wondered what had gone wrong.

Tom wanted to talk, you didn’t. You loved him, he didn’t love you. 

Tom was gone. For good.

An unstoppable force meets an immovable object. 

It’s the kind of love that you’d probably want to avoid. You at least, avoided all kinds. After him, who’d want to love anyone else? He was the only one who could tell if you dared to smile with your eyes only. 

How stupid were you to believe he was your soulmate. 

But no, this wasn’t right. Because feelings make everything blurry and it’s something not exact. If it wasn’t for science and numbers you didn’t like to believe anything.  If you don’t know how it’ll turn out then you’ll probably avoid it. And when it comes to relationships, you never truly know. Or sometimes you do, but it’s usually... not pretty. You’d learned that with him. 

Relationships end, and while you don’t want them to. You’ve sensed it, from the beginning. And you just hope that they’ll remember you in a nice way. Did he? Or had he just passed the page. 

You still felt stuck in a chapter. He had stopped reading. So hard to be on different books now. 

But with him, He was an exception. He was pushy and wasn’t giving up at the beginning until he did. You had seen him fall out of love, and that’s the worst kind of thing you get to face, when you see them slowly trailing far from you. 

Plans? Dreams? The willow tree in that park when you had first kissed was still crying over your breakup. Your head had been low since you’d last kissed him. Had you known it was your last, you’d probably would’ve made it last longer, you would’ve held him for more time. You wouldn’t have let him leave. 

But you had had your moment with him. It had been the last time you saw him. The one moment when you realized that his  fake smile was just that, how convenient and cliche. But you didn’t want to give you in, just yet. No, you wouldn’t. He’d changed, and you didn’t like who he was now. Too changed, too built up, too busy, too whatever you could come up with. 

You got tired of begging, and then he was easy to forget, you hadn’t forgotten. Just two years ago you thought he’d made a decision, you had made it. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. But he didn’t. And you couldn’t stop him, he was growing and growing and simply he escaped from your touch. 

Then it had been a goodbye, and nobody had seen it coming. You had, you’d known it for a long time. And it was weird, you were so in love with him that you knew that it was the best for you both, to get away because though you loved him, you knew he wouldn’t be happy with you. It’s difficult to let go of what makes you happy. 

You remembered it, how both of you would only smile at each other, like damn strangers, say a few hellos, and a fews how’s the weather, as if you hadn’t spent countless nights in between the sheets, as if you hadn’t danced in the middle of the night, as if you hadn’t given him each of the stars in the night sky, as if you hadn’t shared enough drinks together. Or as if you hadn’t fought for your love. You with that red jacket of his. How every path led to him. How every stupid weekend belonged to him, but now you wished they’d pass by sooner. 

Maybe that’s why you were always rushing, so you wouldn’t feel it. You didn’t like the weekends anymore. 

And now, she looked at him the way you were supposed to look at him. At first, it had hurt just a little, you hadn’t believed it. You knew it, everybody wanted to love him, but nobody knew what it felt, the crushing feeling that was loving him. How much it hurt, to watch him paddling with a precious smile, and those pair of angelic eyes, so pure and then turn into a devil just for you. 

Nobody knew how it felt. Anticipating a heartbreak every time he walked in, and to pretend that you didn’t feel that anymore. 

Last time only you thought you’d give him your heart, and he had pushed you away because his heart belonged to someone else. Then it was forbidden, to think about him, to dream about him, to still smell his scent on your pillows. It wasn’t right. 

How could his heart ever belong to someone else but you? 

And you had to smile, to say you were happy for him. Because you were, and that new girl was a fool because anyone who dares to fall for him is a fool, tangled in between lies. She who dares to love him is willing to have her heart crushed by him. And who but a fool is willing to let your heart be crushed by him. 

Last time you’d seen him had been a friday night, 10pm on that one pub he liked going to. You had gone out with your friends, and he was there, with her against his shoulder, her with the long hair and the perfect smile, perfect laugh. 

To think that had been your place once. You had avoided his gaze, ignored he was there. Pretending he hadn’t seen you. But he had. Pretending you hadn’t seen him. But you had. 

Someone had said there is life after love, but there is not love after him. It’s like you’d thrown everything to the fire, and he had watched it burn. Everyone said it: you’ll be happy. 

When? 

Sure, it’d come, eventually. But it had been a year. 

You’d heard he had broken up with her, a while ago. Then it was that hope again, probably why you were recurring to that café. 

It’s funny to think you’ll love someone forever, and then it just… disappears. Every promise eventually breaks, every kiss eventually fades, and love is eventually gone.

Then why wasn’t it? 

Time was your biggest enemy. 

Your story with him, from the moment you’d first seen him, he was just—perfect, you thought about it, how everyone said it was your soulmate. And you believed it. From the moment you’d met him, you had finally believed in soulmates, because it made sense. How your story had been built up to him, and how many times of sudden joy had you had before meeting him because of how close you were. 

Life had been so reckless. You were supposed to meet him several times before you actually met. It was stupid to think, how you were always thinking about it, now that you were apart. 

The first time you’d ever crossed paths had been when you had been very, very young. You didn’t know he had been there, not aware, at a park. And there had been this sudden joy. You remembered feeling it, you’d said it, felt a spark. 

Just children unaware of a flame burning too deep inside of you. 

That other time, at the supermarket when both of you had gone with each other’s mothers and both of you had been playing with the toys. 

You’d never forgotten that one very time, first time your hands ever touched, and it had felt like electricity. Two kids very confused by that spark, when both of them had reached to that one toy, confused. 

Or that one time at the café when he had walked in, you were sure he had walked in, you’d felt it, how your heart had started to beat so fast,  but before you could even glance at him he had walked out. Lost in the crowds, always. 

How both of you had had a broken heart at the same time. First kiss had been almost at the same time, just blocks away, actually. 

Or how you’d both been at that one party, but didn’t know about it. It made no sense how life had been so desperate to get you together but both your surroundings pulled you away. That night had been so close, both dancing behind each other, singing on top of your lungs to the same stupid song. 

Or that one time when someone had pointed him to you when you were at that one pub, “look, that guy is cute.” 

You had looked at him, he was. Shy smiles had only been directed in each other’s direction. 

You’d later learned he’d sent you a drink but the waiter had mistaken the table. 

That one time when you had run out of cash at that sandwich place because their card machine had stopped working, you were rushing, and you were missing only cents, and Tom had come to your rescue. 

Or how he worked near you and his dad had been friends with your mom at some point. How his favorite song was the same as yours, and how often you’d be at the same park, him on his phone, you reading a book. 

How you’d once met his dog that had run over to you. A dog that would learn to love you and did miss you from time to time. 

How Tom had randomly found that one book you’d lost at the park once, under that willow tree and he’d read it. Loved it and then lost it again at that same park, with a random paper note that read: “Jerry’s 8pm, wine.” he’d used as a book separator. 

Who was Jerry? What would happen at 8pm? Wine? What type? Red? Rose? White? Why were you so intrigued by that note? 

You’d kept it to this day. Still didn’t know what it was. You knew Jerry now, though, he was a friend.  And now you knew that he liked wine but preferred beer. 

You’d given him a pretty book separator. He still had kept it to this day, never used it, he always used random notes or napkins or whatever he found. At first it stressed you, how many book separators did you not have and he’d use napkins or those fortune papers that come with fortune cookies. So you had transformed into a better habit, you would write notes so he’d used them. You’d order chinese food more often, too. 

He said he’d always remember that, your little notes, the way you always stained your cup of coffee with lipstick, your two left feet when you danced, or the fact that your laugh would be heard across a room. He’d always recognize your laugh. 

What a Whimsical thing love is when it’s not the right time. 

How many times have you not felt like there was something missing? Until he appeared, at that one park near the cafe where you are sitting right now. The first time you’d ever officially met. Nothing out of a book, something very casual. Both of you at that café, it had been crowded that one day and the only chair available was the one in front of you. 

“I’m sorry, hello,” he had said, making you look up from your book. “May—I sit here?” He asked. “There’s no other chair left in the room and—“

“Yeah, yeah, hi, you can sit,” you had said, without really looking at him, but the moment you had, the moment your eyes had met his, you had…. felt like the whole surrounding had disappeared and you were the only people in the room, it seemed he had also noticed something.

A cold november evening, both of you had a reason to go home yet neither of you had  gone home. Both of you had found a way to that café, with coffees in a mug. The leaves falling outside.

He had sat right in front of you, you couldn’t help but blush when noticing he was attractive, very attractive. But there was something else about him, maybe it had been the way he couldn’t sit still. He had stared at you, and smiled. 

From the very first time you’d ever seen his smile, you knew three things,

His smile was the prettiest thing you’d ever laid your eyes on

His smile was so familiar 

His smile would eventually break your heart.

The third one wasn’t as cheerful but you could tell, he was one of those guys who could easily break someone’s heart in a blink. 

It didn’t take him a blink to break yours. You’d need a lifetime to break his. 

“I’m Tom.” 

“Y/N.” 

Both of you liked to debate over who’d talk to who first, it didn’t matter honestly. You both remembered how both of you had ordered the same drink, a cappuccino. Neither of you liked it, but apparently both of you had wanted to ask for something new. 

You’d always do that. Taste new drinks. 

And it had been… as if you’d met before. You had, multiple times before, but neither one knew, of course. Not at that point, but like you were meant to find him. The sun had gone down and it had been hours and hours of you talking to each other, like old friends who knew their deepest secrets and were catching up, laughs becoming one melody, and both of you had soon realized the cafe hadn’t been that crowded. Maybe it had been the damn destiny pulling you together. To that cafe near the park with that willow tree. 

He had asked questions you didn’t have the answers to back then. You did now. 

Before you knew it, you were walking with a stranger through the London night, seeing people walk by and not looking at them, because somehow you’d both walked to that one park. Both of you had discovered you both liked to sit on that one bench near the willow tree. How many times had you missed the other jusy by a matter of minutes. 

“You’re kidding, I love this place, I’m always here,” he had said. 

“I am, too, weird we’d never met before,” you had chuckled. 

You honestly didn’t remember how or why it had happened. A kiss. You’d kissed a stranger who didn’t feel like a stranger at all. 

“I’m sorry, I-” He had started. 

“No, it’s--” 

And then kissed again. Your stomach had dropped and had been replaced with butterflies. How had a simple cappuccino led to this? 

He’d given you a smile and a promise. You’d met him the next day, and the other one, and the next one. With that stupid smile of his. 

You missed that smile, or how he flirted with you, make you giggle with a stupid joke, or how he’d open his arms to you and kiss you, tumbling down to the couch. The way he’d make you listen to him ramble about his latest discovery. How he always found a way to make you smile in the crowds, always holding your hand, new dates in different places.

“What do you mean you’ve never gone paintball?” 

Weekends only for him, going for breakfast, for dinner, for lunch, for tea, for this, for that. . Then it was the weeknights too, always finding time for you, traditions you created and that you got rid off. Laying down on the grass, looking at stars, kissing in bars, dancing in his living room, your head on his shoulder in movie theatres, his scent on your pillow, his favorite movies next to your dvd, your perfume in his closet and your toothbrush in his bathroom. Notes he’d written to remember things all around your place. Birthdays, new year, parties. 

Endless nights of laugh, of wine and of nothing at all. Kissing. Video Games you didn’t understand, failed attempts to bake, watching sport games he loved and you… tolerated. Him finally agreeing to watch that movie with Ryan Gosling. 

“Why Ryan Gosling?” 

Building plans together, nights of both of you debating on something stupid. Singing on top of your lungs without knowing the lyrics. Getting lost together, that one roadtrip where neither of you knew the way and ended up at that one hotel in the middle of the road. Kissing. Learning to read every emotion, and being each other’s blankets. Hearing each other’s ugly laughs, and crying in front of the other. Being each other’s confort. Hugging him when you were scared at the movie. Meeting the parents. 

“They loved you, don't worry.” 

Always holding each other’s hands.  Fights under the rain. Making up hours later and cuddling to let go of it. Being friends with each other’s friends. Seeing friends getting engaged, going to the weddings. Talking about a wedding. Learning, becoming their best selves. 

Then…. Cold. 

He’d left you when you had been the most in love with him. When you thought he’d shows up with a ring. But he had said goodbye instead. With his picture on your phone and your hand cold with no one to hold. He’d changed your life, completely. 

You’d learned so, so, so much. And at some point you…. Realized it. 

You should’ve known, he was not your soulmate. 

You’d read somewhere about twin flames. Yeah… you had, about the one soul that changes your life. 

You’d learned about the importance of the sunrise and the sunset, how beautiful both of them are, and how dizzy you can get when you get to see both because you didn’t get to sleep because you had laughed and kissed all night. 

They say time is wise, yet you still were hurting and you still loved him. Because it was like his love was a thread still engraved to your own very soul. And though when you were with him it was timeless, you’d learned to give more minutes to the hours you were with him so you spend just a little bit more time staring into his eyes. How you’d learned about the importance of one’s sight, and how the eyes are the doors to the soul, he’d opened his soul completely to yours. And it was so beautiful and so easy to read. 

You’d learned a lot of things, like how to throw pebbles in the ‘right way’ to the river. You’d learned how to lie to your friends so you could go see him, late at night when the moon is the only light shining above yours. You’d learned that mistakes aren’t the end of the world and that you actually are very good at baseball. 

Tom had shown you how to distinguish between a guitar and a bass, not sure why you’d always confused them. And that it’s okay to sometimes leave the clothes on the floor if you’re rushing to get somewhere. Or that sometimes the clothes end up on the floor because you’re both… rushing. That it’s okay to have breakfast for dinner and that you can have dessert before the actual main course. He’d also taught you that facetime isn’t as good as being together but it’s enough to listen to each other’s voice. He had shown you that it’s okay to laugh at sex and that sometimes it’s not as romantic as it should be, that sometimes it is silly and other times it’s passionate. That it’s okay sometimes to say what you want to say before thinking. 

And you’d shown him how to enjoy a bad movie, or how to tie his shoes this other way, and that though the night kept changing, and you both kept growing and learning, you were still the same. You taught him that it’s okay not to know the lyrics and still sing the song, and that if you add a pinch of salt to the cookies you’re baking it’d make it sweeter. 

You’d taught him that Chinese legend. The red thread. 

“It is like an invisible red cord or thread which connects you to that one person you’re destined to meet, your true love,” you had told him. “In China it’s around your ankle, I believe… In Japan, male’s thumb and the female's little fingers, and in Korea are both little fingers.” 

He’d once, jokingly but not really wrapped around both of your pinkies a red thread. 

“I made it visible, see?” He had said. 

“You’re an idiot,” you had chuckled. 

“What happens if you’re apart?” He had wondered. 

“It’s supposed to bring you back together, it…” 

“Can I pull it, if I ever need you?” 

“I guess,” you chuckled. “I’m not sure.” 

“Can it break?” He asked. 

“I… don’t know,” you had confessed with fear.

Because you didn’t know. Maybe yours had been broken. 

But you kept teaching him things, and he kept teaching you other things. You’d also taught him not to never mistake salt for sugar to add to your tea. 

“They’re both a white powder I thought-” 

“Yeah I can think of more white powders that would’ve also gotten us in trouble.” 

You’d taught him that as long as you were his and he was yours, you’d shine as bright as stars. He’d shown you how to say ‘I love you’ to someone for the first time. Because you had, when you least had expected it, just about a weeks after you’d first dated. 

You wanted to order something for dinner, that one night, he was on his laptop ordering food,  you were cuddled against him reading who knows what. 

“Is it weird I want more fortune cookies? Would you be weirded out if someone was asking for more fortune cookies?” He had asked. 

You chuckled. “To get more fortune?” 

“To get more cookies, darling,” he had grinned. “Can’t be more fortunate than this, I am dating you, ain’t I?” 

“Very fortunate” you chuckled as he was ordering. 

“How much food would I have to order for them to send us like ten cookies?” He asked, mostly to himself. 

You laughed, “why don’t you bake them yourself?” 

“We both know we suck at baking, baby,” he reminded you as he kept adding food to the cart. “Besides we wouldn’t get the fortune paper thing, I like those as book separators.” 

He did use them as book separators and liked to randomly leave them on your nightstand  

“Why do you want them? We could buy them next week at the supermarket 

“They’re so good, darling and it’s not the same, they’re not fate then.” 

You only smiled, watching him. 

“Why don’t they sell like… the cookies?” He asked again. 

“They do—“

“No, not but like at the restaurants because they choose which ones to give you, that is fate,”  he continued. “Or like… Okay is this enough food so they think we are like ten  people here? Like if I order enough food they’ll send it to us, right?” He kept rambling to himself. “Like okay, we’d have to eat this for a while but baby look at the bright side we’d have more cookies and that would make me happy because I like the cookies, plus I wouldn’t steal your notes to use as a book separator and we could have like enough fortune things to… I don’t know wrap presents with.” 

And it had come out, so easily, “I love you,” you’d said without thinking about it, interrupting his rambling. You’d felt it for long enough, first time you’d ever kissed him  but somehow you’d never said it. 

And he had stopped worrying for the cookies suddenly, as he only looked at you, he hadn’t been prepared. He had only opened his mouth with surprise. He wasn’t as hungry anymore. 

“I--” he hadn’t said it back. 

“No, I’m sorry, no, no I’m sorry,” you gulped and sat up to get away. “No I didn’t--No, I don’t… I mean, no, yeah I do, I’m… Look you don’t have to… say it…I don’t love—No, I do, I do—“

He had smiled and took a deep breath, with surprise. 

You walked away. “No, baby, sorry—Tom, I’m sorry you don’t have to say anything I’ll just—Yeah.” 

You had tried to walk away but he had tackled you from behind, and turned you around to kiss you in his very way.  “I love you, too.” 

And the food had eventually arrived after kissing for god knows how long and you remembered opening that one fortune cookie. 

“Love, because is the only true adventure.” 

And it had been. The greatest adventure of your life, and it hadn’t been one of those crazy adventures. It had been small, but great. Good enough He’d forgotten one thing, he’d never shown you how to get over him. How to live without him. 

And you had said it, how it would never be too late for him to come back. He wouldn’t, you know. But he knew it, you’d always have each other. 

You had read about twin flames. How the compatibility and energy is so strong, so, so strong, so meant to be.  An intense soul connection, sometimes called a "mirror soul," thought to be a person's other half.  A same soul. And at times it did feel like it. 

But it doesn’t have to be forever. 

It should’ve been, though. 

But Tom was easily scared, and maybe he’d felt like his life with you would be forever, and you didn’t blame him for being scared. Finding the love of your life doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll have to spend your whole life with them. 

“I’m always going to love you,” he had said. You knew he wouldn’t. 

But he’d never leave your heart or your mind, no matter what, day, noon, midnight. He was always there, but he had moved on. Or had he, really? 

He hadn’t. But both of you had a very different version of the relationship. He had waited for you at that willow tree, you’d waited for him at that café. And it had been like that for a while, both of you waiting at the wrong place, at the wrong time. 

He did miss you, very, very much and he also couldn’t get over you. You didn’t know, but even when he was dating this other girl he kept going back to you. He had kept his promise, he would always love you. With every cell, with every bone on his body. With his entire soul, because it felt like it was missing its other half. 

He had stopped burning when he was apart from you. No light, no nothing.

Because everything led back to you, everything was about you. And he had bumped into you several more times, you hadn’t seen him, but he’d seen you walking in the rain, and he’d seen you when he stared at himself in the mirror. He saw you in every fortune cookie he ate, or in every book separator he found. He had felt incomplete when he wasn’t with you. 

And after you’d broken up, Tom had felt incredibly numb and sad, your pain combined with his. He’d always wondered why that happened how he knew how you were feeling, a hunch he’d say. 

He’d always have a song stuck in his head, and he’d be thinking of you at the most random times. He’d always expect to find your lipstick stain on his mugs 

He always wanted to call, he never did though. But he was there, even if you didn’t notice. Like how he’d randomly send you a coffee with your friends, asking them not to tell you it came from him, or how if he ever walked by your place, he’d clean the dust from the mailbox because he knew how much you hated when it got dirty. How he had become friends with that guy from the Chinese place you liked to order from and he’d told him to always give you extra fortune cookies.

Tom wasn’t the same when he was apart from you, he hadn’t slept, he hadn’t smiled. But he did see one bright thing because it felt like he was being pulled back to you. 

He regretted breaking up because he’d been too scared to admit you were on the other side of the string. He feared it could break. But he was also scared that he would become the person he was before you, and how you probably wouldn’t like who he was before that. 

He also didn’t believe in soulmates, until you came. Because he thought And he thought your connection was too strong to be a simple soulmate. His soul and yours were one. 

But he’d left because he had to learn the last lesson, the one lesson you couldn’t technically teach him, and that lesson could only be taught by missing you. And damn, did he miss you. 

Because no one was you, no one knew his smile like you did and no one could read him like you. Your perfume still lingered and he missed your toothbrush in his bathroom. He missed having to get your hair out of his face when you were asleep. He missed the way you’d leave your books around his house or the way that he heard you sing the wrong lyrics. Tom missed the way you’d kiss his temple when you woke up earlier than him and how you always covered him with blankets. Tom missed looking into your eyes and making you laugh by making a stupid joke, knowing you’d be the only one laughing. 

He missed having you around at parties, when all of his friends were talking about things he didn’t like and he looked for you to give you that one knowing look but you weren’t there. He missed you when he got drunk, he missed you when you he woke up, when he wanted to run to you and kiss your cheek from behind. When he wanted to watch a bad movie and laugh at it, he’d miss you all the time. 

Tom was gone, yes. But Tom was gone because he wasn’t with you, and he couldn’t be himself again. How could he after you? 

Was there life after love? 

And eventually he’d seen you, always running into you but not letting you see him because he knew it would hurt you, it hurt him too. But how many times had his shoulder not bumped into yours without you noticing because your head was low. Or how many times had he not heard your laugh across the room and seen you. You were everywhere. 

And he didn’t know why he couldn’t get the courage like that one first time when he’d first asked to sit with you, that one time when he’d first kissed you. No other pair of lips deserved to be kissed after he had kissed you. 

And life was pulling him back to you but he didn’t know if you’d take him. He was scared that you had moved on, but something told him you couldn’t. He somehow knew that you still loved him because he loved you too. 

So he’d sit there, under that willow tree waiting for you to come back. But he was always running out of time, always having elsewhere to be. Because no one ever has time. 

You did, too, always rushing and that’s why you never saw him. Until today, with that mug in your hands, watching people, couples. Soulmates. And there you were, at that cafe, waiting for him to come, near that one park with the willow tree where you’d first kissed. 

Wishing he would come. 

But life is a strange thing, and maybe it had been the fact that the foam on your cappuccino had spoken to you, or the fact that you’d still kept that one fortune paper on the back of your phone, hidden underneath the case, or the fact that you had almost poured salt into your coffee instead of sugar, or maybe it had been  that thread around your finger or maybe a coincidence by itself, but somehow you’d left that café that day, willing to go to that willow tree for the first time.

Because no one ever truly has time, but he had pulled the string. 

tagging some other people who might like this: tag list   @spidxrparkxr​ @mukesnugget @anxiousdesignerdancerbandlover​ @happywolves81   @happywolves81 @applenter @silver-winter-wolf    @applenter @claredolphinbear24​ @bookgirlunicorn​   @tomshufflepuff @avengersgirllorianna​ @nevertoofarfromivar @saintlavrents​ @herofiennestiffinashardinscott.  @tomzfrog @dark-infernal-instruments​ @awkwardfangirl2014 @spideysimpossiblegirl  @tomzfrog  @xapham @awkwardfangirl2014​ @xapham @tomhollandisagod @xapham​ @laurfangirl424 @vintageroses1014516 @cinnamon-roll-peter​   @the-lost-fairy-tale @the-lost-fairy-tale @lala-florez​ @lala-florez​    @ilcveyou3000 @xxtomxo @socorroann​ @muffinmari25   @cassindeansass  @rogers-obsessed-barnes-curious​ @southsidespideyy @southsidespideyy​ @nathaliabakes​ @nathaliabakes​ @embrace-themagic @embrace-themagic​ @sanniegirl1214 @sanniegirl1214​  @softholand @fairytaleparker @underooling​ @griff1ndor @griff1ndor @thatweirdomimic​ @avengersgirllorianna​ @reginalaufeyson-holmes @better-daisy @yeahimcrying @allmonstersxarehuman @spider-manholland @better-daisy​ @itstaskeen @georiaang @sebxstianbarnes @kissingtrutharchives  @snoopy3000 @prettymessygurl @spideyparkerstark @fanfic-4-you @lexshead @officiallyunofficialperson​ @mannien @whitewolfandthefox​ @melodiclovesong @bizzlepotter​ @bizzlepotter​  @localfangirlx @acceptance07 @witchythingscore @witchythingscore @swaggyspiderman @localfangirlx​  @queengemsworld @liberty0123 @stiles-banshees @itsjusttor @stretchkingblog97 @annathesillyfriend @itsjusttor​ @tomshufflepuff @thewayilookatbacon @petersdiaries @emjaywrites @emjaywrites @thewayilookatbacon​ @jungeunave @emjaywrites​ @ispiderdudei @ispiderdudei @literalfsngirltrash @quacksonhq​ @it-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes​ @desir-ae @desir-ae​ @desir-ae​ @peterporkpie @peterporkpie​ @smolpeachees @thenoddingbunny-blog @quackeroos @quackeroos​ @spideyyeet @astoldbydanid @astoldbydanid @hollandcreep @hollandcreep @astoldbydanid​ @hollandcreep @rebekkah4766 @farfromtommy  @rubberducky-jrr @oh-whatabeautiful-parker​ @coveredinthemessimade​  @shameless-self-promo-of-a-shrub @sweetiesangster​ @thatdamjoke​ @annathesillyfriend @annathesillyfriend​ @witchythingscore​ @witchythingscore @bookworm06  @bookworm06  @lala-florez @lala-florez @chaoticpete @bookworm06​ @peeterparkr @chaoticpete @shezzalocked​ @cosmichollands-blog @frenchfrostpudding @badbitchydecisions @w4ybefor3nir4na jj @saintlavrents @americaswritings @ilovepeterparker13 @lukesbabylon @lukesbabylon @iamaunicorn4704 @simple-things @simple-things @sip-portteam  @herondale-snow-carstairs @tony-starks-ego @quaksonhehe0 @stargazerholland @marvelslut-musicalnerd @hotrubycrab @sovereignparker @peter-parker-tony-stank-trash @belleknows @mysticalinsomniac @nycparkers @nycparkers @anythingthaticareabout @spn-assemble-seven @tanyalooovesyou @somethingchaotic  @heartofholland @peachybloomss @youcompletemesk @emyla3305 @emyla3305–butt  @hollandstanevans @farfromtommy @farfromtommy @southbeachfeeling @eridanuswave @tonguetiedholland @wolvesofthewinter @quacksonobrien @dcnerd98 @ifntelyinspirit @electraheart-3174 @julialucena5 @itsmilamawson @harryssuckz @harryssuckz @xstarbae @xstarbae @xstarbae @peterbparkerrwrites   @averyfosterthoughts @darethedragonknights  @hannahholland1811 @justanamesstuff @emyla3305 @abbiefangirls247 @onewithnomightypowers @itscaminow @youllbmineandillbeyoursbabelove @hotrubycrab  @spidey-holland-96 @awkwardnesshabitat @geminiparkers@primadonnasdream @slytherinambitious @maybecharming @where-art-thau-romeo @viagracex @viagracex @sspidermanss @pcterparxer @whatevshollandarchive @aleyabee @aleyabee @lovewolfspirit @viagracex  @xallyouneedislovexx @panicattheeverywherekid  @pcterparxer @thehauntingofmymind @redhoodparker @redhoodparker @cakepopcriss @allthisfortommy @aleyabee @perspectiveparker @let-me-luve-you @xxpeachyxo @m-a-r-i-n-t-p @superstarchick @notjustpenandpaper @morbiddanvers @runaway3 @runaway3 @runaway3  @lu-morningstar @th0ttie4tommy @riasaurusrex @riasaurusrex @frustratingpaperclip @readheadwriter @geesquariid @noxceleste @noxceleste   @peterparker-rickybowen-mybabies @witchything @peterporkpie @bookworm06 @panicattheeverywherekid @imthefloor @ohmyquackson @seaveyheartful @wangtan-boys @obiwanownsmyass @sadisticfries @not-some-docile-teenager @galaxystern08 @lovemarvelousfics @tomzfrog @calsthomas @thearchersupremacy @nikitajackson @dayazenn @the-fandom-life-forever @just-kickin-ass @quaksonhehe @dummiesshort @samaratheweirdo @fr3akingphantrash @i-love-superhero @mandeeleebeebee @captainamirica @dramaticdiva @halparkebitch @uglypastels​ 

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

The Voyage So Far: Paramount War (Part Two)

east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || whole cake island || wano (1 | 2)

ace’s execution is, in a way, the exception that proves the rule when it comes to one piece’s themes of blood and family. ace is set up to die for the crimes of a father he never knew and never wanted, and he does die here, but in the end he dies for the family he did choose, in the form of luffy, rather than the one he didn’t. 

god do i wish we knew more about ms portgas d. rouge. with ace’s storyline pretty much wrapped it looks unlikely that we’re going to be learning more about her than what we got, which in my opinion is an absolute tragedy, because what little we do know about her is amazing and she’s an absolute badass. oda give us more female ds please.

whitebeard’s power is so cool. it might be one of the visually coolest devil fruits we’ve ever seen, in my opinion. he he causes earthquakes and tsunamis while far past his prime; he pulls the sky apart with his bare hands. this whole arc is world-shaking, and whitebeard’s power is perfectly appropriate for it. 

doflamingo’s speech on justice and rightness is one of the most well-remembered quotes from this whole saga, and rightly so. i��ve always found it fascinating, myself, because he’s right. he dead-on hits how the one piece world works- the world government and the marines rule the world not because of any inherent actual goodness or justice or right, but because they won a war a very long time ago. 

in a way, this reminds me of blackbeard’s line of “people’s dreams never die” from jaya. i like how oda isn’t afraid of letting his villains be right about the themes of the story, sometimes even having better awareness of them than the protagonists. 

man, if i had to pick a single favorite spread out of the whole manga, it might be luffy’s marineford entrance. it’s so epic, and so completely unexpected for everyone else there. absolutely nobody was expecting strawhat luffy to drop out of the sky with a posse including two former warlords. it just makes me grin!! so much!! 

it also gets followed up by a solid two pages of just people’s reactions, from smoker’s “what the HELL is he doing with CROCODILE” to moria’s immediate incoherent rage, and i just love that the world and cast of one piece is so well-established and built up that we know exactly how all of those people know luffy and why they react the way they do. 

going back to what i mentioned in the last post about marineford being luffy’s conflict of interest arc, i’d say it’s also the only time where he isn’t the future king first and foremost. in this arc, before anything else, he’s a little brother.

there are a lot of what-if moments in marineford. moments where you kind of have to ask “what if this specific thing hadn’t happened, had gone differently?” would things have turned out differently? squard’s betrayal is one of them. does this change the outcome? would whitebeard have been able to survive if not for this injury? there’s no way to know. marineford is a lot of little tragedies, and they just pile up and up.

marineford has just so many incredibly striking spreads. all of the momentous moments (and there’s a lot of them, in this arc) are done full justice. this is such an image heavy post just because marineford is such an incredibly visually strong arc. 

conqueror’s haki is so cool and i love the way it’s set up and built up throughout this saga, with luffy’s constant inadvertent uses of it, from duval’s bull to marigold and sandersonia to the wolves in impel down, all leading up to this moment. 

i’ve heard people complain about conqueror’s as kind of a deus ex machina, but i honestly love it, it’s very cool and honestly i think it just seems to fit luffy as a power. if there was ever gonna be a character who turned willpower into a weapon, it would be monkey d. luffy. 

i’m gonna take this chance to talk about garp, because this sequence of panels is heavily implied to be garp’s thoughts just before luffy punches him down, and it hurts. garp is a flawed person who makes some bad choices, and there’s no arguing that, but i think it’s very obvious he really, really cares about his grandsons, even if he never could understand them as people and that they never would have been happy as marines. and that’s just tragic, really. 

the moment ace gets freed and the brief span of time where he and luffy can fight together feel so triumphant, and i think it’s one of the reasons the final tragedy of marineford hits so hard and feels so cruel, because luffy succeeds, here. he saves ace. he gives absolutely everything he had and makes it, and saves ace. the ultimate failure isn’t his. there was nothing more he could have done. 

the first time i was reading one piece, i hit this page (which is also the last in the volume) and had to put the book away, take the bus downtown, wander around for a few hours, and buy myself some candy and some new books before i started feeling okay again.

the thing about ace’s death, i think, is that it’s a tragedy, but it also feels so completely essential to the story going forwards and luffy’s character growth specifically that it’s really, really hard to imagine one piece without it. there are a lot of (really excellent!) fix-fics out there for marineford, and although those are often really good and their authors super talented, i think it’s really hard for them to ever hit the same way canon does with regards to this. 

i always think of this scene specifically in contrast to zoro and mihawk’s fight, back on baratie. zoro and mihawk are both people who believe in honor in battle, true victory or death, and that’s reflected in their fight, in zoro’s refusal to turn and run even in the face of imminent death, and mihawk’s respect for that resolve. whitebeard, too, is an honorable man. he refuses to turn to run, even when facing certain death. 

the blackbeard pirates, however, are not. 

i do enjoy how, just like roger’s, ace’s execution backfires tremendously on the marines. this was entirely a predictable outcome, too! this exact thing happened twenty years ago! the marines don’t learn. they don’t change. they’re so assured of their own rightness and power that they make stupid mistakes like holding a massive public execution after the last one blew up in their faces. 

(this is why they need coby so badly, for the record, and why it’s important that he still decides to become a marine after witnessing their corruption firsthand in shells town. the marines are long overdue for a reformation, one that orients them towards real justice.)

i really, really enjoy crocodile in this saga. mostly because he hasn’t been redeemed at all, he’s still pretty much the exact same kinda awful person he was in alabasta, he’s just on luffy’s side this time, and it lets us see him in a better light, when he gets angry at whitebeard for nearly dying or when he helps luffy and jinbe escape to keep the marines from getting their way. few of one piece’s characters are truly so one-dimensional as they can seem, and i really appreciate that. 

i really really love all the interactions between luffy, ace and sabo as kids. they’re so fun and bounce off of each other so well. even though we only see them together for a brief time, they really feel like siblings. (which of course only makes later events hurt so much more.

i’ve always been a little fascinated by the fact that it takes us this long to get luffy’s full backstory. it’s almost a fakeout, because we get part of his backstory in the very first chapter, and we’re kind of led to believe that’s all there is. it’s not until ace’s introduction nearly two hundred chapters in that we’re given any indication there’s more.

but at the same time, it makes sense. marineford is luffy’s focus arc, as arlong park to nami or thriller bark to brook. he hasn’t had a focal arc that’s really about him before this, while all his other crewmates have. it makes sense that this would be when he finally gets his flashback. 

i think it’s cool that dragon and the revolutionaries show up at the grey terminal fire, because it’s one of the only looks we’ve gotten so far into what their actual regular operations are like. and, of course, they’re saving people. i really like this about the revolutionaries, that helping people in trouble is basically their modus operandi, when pretty much everyone else in one piece’s world mostly does saving on an incidental basis if at all. 

i think a lot about how the last line of sabo’s letter to ace is also both of their last words to the strawhats. 

death in one piece always feels much realer and more impactful to me than in most other series, and i think this is part of the reason why: in one piece, we are always shown the mourning. nami at bellemere’s grave, carrot grieving pedro, ace and whitebeard’s funeral. 

there are fewer deaths, comparatively, than most other series, but they’re given so much room to echo. we’re still feeling the impacts of ace’s life and death in the most recent chapters of wano. it ties into the theme of inherited will and all the way back to hiriluk’s final speech, of men not being dead so long as they’re remembered. 

the picture of luffy at marineford always kind of strikes me. he looks so young and so solemn, and yet much more himself than he did when we last saw him losing his mind on amazon lily. i really like it. 

sometimes i just think about the sheer depth of trust and love the strawhats must have in each other to separate for two years, far longer than they were ever together, to solely dedicate themselves to improving for the sake of crew and captain. none of them even hesitate, and none of them ever doubt that the crew will be reformed at the end of it.

after all, luffy keeps his promises. 

[queenmylovely]

Hello! I was just wondering if I could request something? I know it’s silly to feel bad about it but basically, I’m 20 and I’ve never had a partner, never had sex, never been kissed etc. so I was wondering if you could do something where Ben maybe finds out and takes the reader on a date to show her how she should be treated then teaches her how to kiss and maybe takes her virginity and it’s all just really sweet and loving and gentle? Sorry if it’s too much 😅 thank you!! ❤️❤️

Definitely don’t feel bad bc i’m 21 and in the same boat. I did most of this but bc it’s a blurb I couldn't fit it all. Thank you for the request, lots of love (warnings are a little bit of cussing; 1.5k words) 

Masterlist

☆☆☆

“Well what do you mean you’ve never done anything?”

“I mean I’ve never done anything, can you not make me spell it out?” you sighed, feeling a flash of nervous adrenaline as Ben asked you about a topic you didn’t often talk about.

“So you’ve, like, only made out? Over the clothes stuff?” Ben asked, trying to clear it up.

The only reason you were even answering is that Ben seemed genuinely confused and curious. A lot of the time when someone learned about this, they were judgy or teased you, so this was refreshing at least. And Ben really wasn’t the type to judge or tease when it was something so personal as this. You knew that much from your half year or so of friendship.

You looked at him across your kitchen table where you had been eating lunch before the subject of that new coming of age movie came up and Ben started talking about the beginnings of his sex life and asking about yours.

“Ben,” you said quietly, making sure he was looking at you. “I have not made out with anyone, I have not touched or been touched by anyone, and I have not kissed anyone. Ever.”

“Oh,” a look of slightly stunned realization crossed Ben’s face. A few beats went by of you looking at Ben and Ben looking off into the distance.

Suddenly he looked back at you, and the abrupt eye contact made you jolt a little.

“Wanna go on a date with me?”  

You blinked, “Um, that’s a hell of a non sequitur.”

Ben shrugged, “Well I was just thinking–”

“Hold on, is this some sort of virgin kink?” you asked, starting to lament the fact that you were about to lose a friend because as nice as he seemed, he was actually a total weirdo.

“No, no! Oh my gosh, not at all. I actually only really brought up that movie to bring up the idea of us dating,” Ben explained frantically.  

“How would talking about teenagers having sex for the first time lead to a conversation about us dating?” you questioned disbelievingly. Not to mention your disbelief at the idea of Ben wanting to go on a date, or multiple, with you.

“Well, if you’ll remember, the main characters are friends first who then start dating,” Ben reminded and now that you thought of it, you were the one to bring up the funny and awkward after-sex scene.

Now it was your turn to say, “Oh.”

“Yeah, so… how about it?” Ben smiled at you, that bright smile that reached his eyes and made you feel excited all over.

“But, why do you want to go on a date with me?” as much as you wanted to, it was hard to just trust Ben and agree.

“Well, first of all, I know we get along great. You’re funny, we always have a good time, you’re incredibly caring and kind to me and to everyone. Not to mention you’re super smart and always teaching me about obscure things I never would’ve known about on my own. And oh yeah, you’re gorgeous,” Ben said, and the sincerity and meaning of his words hit you like a ton of bricks, but in a really, really good way.

You were too flustered to even speak for a few moments.

“So did I make a good enough case?” Ben prompted. With a little chuckle, you nodded, “Yes, those were all fine reasons.”

_____

Two days later, you were walking into an Italian restaurant after work for your first date together. You were so nervous it felt like you were sweating bullets. Not only was this your first date in a long time, it also felt like your first date ever that had real potential. Which was nerve wracking.

Ben had texted you that he was already sitting down, so you told the host that you were meeting someone and started looking around. You found him next to the stained glass window on the left side of the restaurant. As you walked towards him and he stood up to greet you, you couldn’t help but admire how good he looked. Sure, he was handsome and conventionally attractive, that was obvious to anyone who looked at him, but knowing that he looked this particularly good because of you was something else entirely.

Ben reached for you as you got closer, pulling you towards him and towards his face. You panicked for a second, but he was just going for a cheek kiss and quick hug, which you were familiar with, and returned happily. Then he offered for you to sit down and you did with a smile.

“I just got here, but I ordered us both Negronis, I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course it is, you know it’s my favorite drink,” you reassured him, reaching across the little table to touch his arm.

You were used to casual physical contact with Ben as friends, but now even touching his arm made your skin feel electric and your nerves came back, like your body knew where this kind of touch might lead at the end of the date. Still, you waited a few seconds before pulling your hand back, enjoying the moment between you and Ben.

There were a lot of moments like that throughout the meal. Cheersing with strong eye contact when your drinks came, offering bites of food of your meals to each other, dabbing at a bit of sauce that got on Ben’s chin, and Ben damn near lasciviously eating a maraschino cherry that came with the dessert, all the while looking to the side innocently.

The tension grew as the night went on, and soon the nerves from the beginning of the meal were replaced by a desire for any sort of closeness or contact with Ben that was currently being prohibited by the table you were sitting at.

When the check came, you didn’t put up a fight at Ben paying (other than to say you would pay next time) because you wanted to get out of the restaurant as quickly as possible. As you left, Ben was right behind you, his hand on the small of your back, making your skin unbelievably warm.

The fresh breeze as you walked outside helped to cool you a little, but Ben’s hand dropped down to grab yours, and your face heated again. The two of you picked the river, only a couple blocks away, to stroll along.

You walked for a ways, chatting about what you saw: the people, birds, water, and sky. As the sun began its descent, you relished the last rays of warmth since you knew the dark would start you walking back and the date would be all but over.

Hearing the call of a bird, you spun to watch it land on one of the riverside trees, smiling and pointing it out to Ben. Turning back to look at him, you bumped into his chest and tilted your head to meet his gaze.

“Oh,” you breathed, surprised at his closeness.

“Hi,” he murmured with that grin of his.

“Hi,” you returned, a grin of your own painting your lips.

You didn’t know what else to say, or whether to say anything at all, not wanting to ruin the moment, but also not sure this was the moment you thought it could be.

Thankfully, you didn’t have too much time to think about it or say anything, because Ben leaned down towards you. His smile lessened bit by bit, until he was only an inch or so from your face, pausing there to look down at your lips and move his free hand to the side of your face. You waited for him to close the gap, waited, waited, until you couldn’t take it anymore and pressed your lips to his.

His lips were warm and soft against yours, and you delighted in the feeling of kissing Ben. He pulled back a little, adjusted the angle, and this time he kissed you, using a light touch on your jaw to move you. Ben was unhurried, gentle, and sweet, letting you get acquainted to the feeling at the speed you wanted.

Parting your mouth, you ran the tip of your tongue on the center of his lower lip and he smiled before parting his own. He kept letting you lead the way, try whatever you liked, and when you accidentally knocked your teeth together, all he did was squeeze your hand reassuringly; you could’ve sworn your heart melted right there.

Of course things couldn’t go on too long, since you were in public and it was now dark save for the streetlights. Reluctantly, you broke away, a warm look passing between you. As you walked back, you let go of Ben’s hand, but only to grab it with the other and wrap his arm around your shoulders. Ben’s eyes twinkled as he looked down at you, and you returned his smile as you squeezed his hand.

★★★

tagging for the length: @riseetothesun @drowseoftaylor @caborhapch @queenlover05 @johndeaconshands @stardust-galaxies @theblossomknows  @buckyluvrs @im-an-adult-ish @sleep-i-ness (unable to tag italics)

[anika-ann]

Hell Froze Over - Pt.1

The Good (and Fast) Samaritan

Type: mini-series to a series (part 1 & part 2 & part 3 & part 4),  Avenger!reader AU.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader       Word count: 2750

Summary: There’s a new enhanced on a scene, showing up at places of the Avengers’ fights. She’s fast. Really, really fast. And Wanda can’t read her mind.

So far, she has been helping. But surely it’s only a matter of time before she switches switch sides – otherwise she would have approached you instead of speeding away.

You had a problem. And you needed a solution.

Warnings: violence and blood, mention of multiple characters’ death (the Snap), a bit of inuendo and language… oh and extreme fluff

A/N: This part of Melting Hearts’ verse follows after everyone was brought after the Snap. The majority of the story was written after A:IW, soooo, there are no references to Endgame and there’s canon divergence. They somehow saved them all, without building a damn time machine and all that. Just run with it ;)

Previous part of the series II Story masterlist

────── ·❆· ──────  

Aliens. 

Why was it always aliens?

And extremely annoying ones on top of that.

They had freaking tentacles – or multiple limbs, whatever they called it. The thing was, they had four ‘arms’, which made them incredibly handful, pun definitely intended. And what was making it worse? Once you cut off one limb, two grew in its place.

More than once during the fight, in which New Yorkers were being terrorized again, you wondered if these particular creatures, aka Tentacles, had been on Earth before, possibly meeting Hydra. You couldn’t imagine the Nazis’ organization getting the inspiration for their motto anywhere else, Greek myths be damned.

Apparently, these aliens loved going after Captain America too. Then again, they generally didn’t seem to be fond of the group of superhumans standing in their way of invading this planet, so perhaps Steve was not special in that respect.

Pinning two Tentacles to a wall by spray of thick icicles, you allowed yourself to breathe in after a long time. If you were being honest, you wouldn’t mind if Tentacles were the ones whose population would stay with the half of them erased from existence by Thanos. Seriously. They were obviously dickheads.

Taking few more breaths, indulging the feeling of having time to do so, you scanned your surroundings; the fight was definitely going your way, the aliens falling one after another, but the damage to the area was immense. It was a miracle no building had collapsed yet, but you had a hunch it wouldn’t take long. Wanda was helping with removing the civilians out of the harm’s way with her mental powers, but several blocks had been hit. You hadn’t had your eyes on her for a while now.

Hearing a roar by your right, you were immediately back to the highest alert. Tentacle no.39 was not coming your way though; it went after Natasha. You sent an icicle right through the creature’s belly, killing it at instant. Nat just nodded your way and threw herself back into the fight. You did the same.

Your whole body hurt, burning with exhaustion, but you knew you had to keep going. Even when a warning pinch bit the base of your spine; you were getting really fed up with this whole fail-safe trigger, because in moments like this, you simply couldn’t allow yourself to stop fighting in order to be fine. You were supposed to push yourself to your very limits, because lives were at stake.

Unfortunately, you didn’t have a choice.

You slowed down a little, trying to stay closer to Steve who was the nearest. He must have caught up on you pulling back, because he stated fighting with more ferocity – one you weren’t sure where he got from.

You noticed he didn’t have his helmet anymore and it made you bite the bullet and throw yourself back into the fight despite knowing the pain would only grow with time and at one point, it would paralyze you. But Steve had lost his fucking helmet again and he had the armour for reason goddammit!

And then, all of sudden, the battle was over. Car alarms blared all around you, smoke rising to the sky, flames licking anything they reached; you did your best to put the fire out. It was why you didn’t notice it at first – the loud creak of metal tens feet away, but then the concrete started screaming, just like the people.

You snapped your head that way, only to see a restaurant collapsing onto itself.

With people still in it.

You acted on instinct, sending the thickest layer of ice you could summon to slow down the falling debris, seeing a flush of red energy heading the same way. You felt the crushing weight of the building almost on your shoulders.

And the very same moment, you could also see that in a blink, there were no people underneath it.

They were gone; more specifically, several feet nearby, staring as incredulously as you were. Feeling unbearable sting in your back, you allowed yourself to let go, Wanda following your example.

Unlike the civilians, you knew all too well what happened. But your eyelids felt too heavy and you were too tired to be annoyed; in fact, you were grateful, because you didn’t know how long you would have been able to hold the improvised barrier.

You mentally thanked the girl who got all the people out in what seemed like a split second.

Dark spots danced in front of your eyes, your knees getting wobbly. The world threated to sway out of its place and you knew you were about to fold like a house of cards, only to wake up seconds later. It wouldn’t be the first time.

But you didn’t hit the ground. Strong arms enwrapped you securely, pulling you to your Captain’s chest, supporting you as much as you needed. You closed your eyes and breathed through the dizziness.

“Hey, it’s okay, I got you. It’s over, you can rest. But stay with me, alright?” Steve’s voice reached you from a terrible distance, slowly getting closer as you were gradually regaining your strength. The vibrations of his words caressed your own torso and you blinked your eyes open. “There you go, Snowflake. Let’s wrap it up here, okay?”

You just nodded, looking up to his face gratefully. He gave you a small smile in acknowledgement of your wordless ‘thank you for not letting me fall’.

“She was here again,” you mumbled and Steve grimaced as he cautiously let you off his embrace.

“Yeah. I know.”

────── ·❆· ──────  

You all entered the conference room slowly, some of you barely standing on your feet. It was a miracle you didn’t have to drag each other in here. After a long time of scrunching your nose at it, you reached for the energizing drink specially designed for you just like everyone else.

While no one had suffered a serious injury – serious on the Avengers’ scale, things like the cut on Steve’s forehead didn’t count –, you were all ready to just have a shower and go to bed. But no. Being an Avenger meant you couldn’t. It meant that if the work wasn’t finished, you couldn’t get rest.

You dropped into one of the comfy chairs, Steve’s body making a muffled thud as he chose the one next to you. If even Captain America was dead on his feet, things were bad.

You pushed yourself up, sitting up straight to inspect the gash on his smooth skin. It was already healing and you knew he had it treated (by you, at least), but the drying bloody line on his head just wouldn’t let you relax.

Your fingertips carefully brushed alongside it, wary of not applying any pressure. Steve smiled at you faintly.

“Snowflake, it’s okay.”

His hand caught your wrist tenderly, pulling it away.

“How did you manage to get it anyway? How did you lose your helmet again?” you questioned. He bit his lip and looked almost apologetically. Naturally, that had you frowning. “Steve-“

“He was getting too close to--- to them, alright? I admit I didn’t quite see the other three coming-“

You gritted your teeth, torn between admiring his heroics as he defended the civilians and clipping round his ear for having a tunnel-like vision and not looking around properly before jumping to the rescue.

In the end, you just huffed, letting your hand slip from his grasp.

You carefully eyed the rest of the team, glad you found Wanda mothering Vision and Bruce checking Natasha once again, while Tony, Sam and Clint were on the phone. It put a smile on your face as you saw Bucky fumbling with his phone as well – you knew he had started seeing a woman from accounting here and now he was probably wondering if he should let her know he was fine.

“We make a good team. Taking minor risks is worth it,” Steve whispered, straightening in his chair in favour of dropping a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes contentedly at the pure and innocent display of affection.

When his lips lingered, his hand brushing your jaw and he inhaled the smell of your shampoo – if there was any smell left after the fight and debris flying around –, his breath faltering, a realization dawned to you.

He hadn’t lost his helmet when defending some civilians, had he?

Steve wouldn’t let himself to be distracted enough to be jumped when protecting civilians. Never. He only lost his focus when protecting the people he loved. Mainly the ones he had lost before, in the Snap or otherwise; if he could help it, his gaze never left you on the battlefield, simply too scared you would disappear in a blink of an eye. He might be getting less anxious about it lately, but it was always in the back of his mind; having your loved ones wiped off by a snap of fingers and seeing them fall to ashes did that to a person.

Not that you would know – you were among the ones who disappeared.

But Steve knew. He saw it happen to you, Bucky, Sam…. And he could only watch. Nothing he could do stop it. You still remembered the burn of in the base of your spine as your powers fought to freeze the process of your body disintegrating, watching in horror as many of your friends did – and that you were about to meet the same fate. Just as helpless as Steve was.

“…I’m just stalling, Steve. I know it and you know it too. I should— I should let go-“

“No! No, Snowflake, you stay and fight-“ he practically growled, gripping your wrists with enough strength to bruise them.  

“I love you, Steve,” you whispered in response, feeling your whole body trembling in both exertion and fear. You didn’t want to leave. You didn’t want this to be your end.

The wild haunted look in Steve’s eye only made you shudder further, a painful twist to your gut.

“No-“

“Please, say it back,” you pleaded, swallowing your tears and the scream that was threatening to erupt from your throat. The burn, fuck, the burn… you couldn’t hold it any longer.

“NO! You fight this!”

Lips trembling, you understood you wouldn’t get the last love declaration you craved. You closed your eyes.

“Goodbye, Steve.”

“NO!” he yelled, pulling you to him, bodies aligned as he wrapped an arm around you, holding you impossibly close. “You--- sweetheart, please. I love you. I can’t-“

“Thank you,” you sobbed, breathing in his scent, feeling the coarse material of his worn uniform, revelling in the warmth of his touch… and you let go.

The last thing you heard was him, choking on a desperate shriek of your name.

The memory and the sheer wonder about what it must have been like for him almost brought tears into your eyes. Again.

Could you really be mad at him for being reckless?

“Thank you for saving me,” you whispered, hearing his breath hitch. You opened your eyes, only to see his resigned ones as he guesses you figured out the truth.

“No ‘you idiot’, huh?”

“No. Not this time. I can see you’re fine. You’re allowed to look out for me as long as you walk away relatively unharmed.”

“Lucky me,” he murmured and kissed you lightly on your lips, tasting after the sickeningly sweet energy drink. You couldn’t say you minded.

“I love you, Steve. I care for you too. Nothing wrong with that,” you hummed lovingly, gazing into his eyes, the rest of the world be damned. “So yeah. Thank you.”

His blues got their vivid spark back, the corners of his lips rising inconspicuously. “Always. And I love you too.”

“You two are sickening,” Bucky noted close to your ear and you honest to god yelped, almost falling off your chair.

Bucky receded with silent laugh and while you clutched at your chest, your heart too frantic in your ribcage, you noticed Steve rolled his eyes at his friend fondly.

“Lefty here has a point,” Tony hummed, making you huff and turn to the big screen as it lit up with news feed.

There were already so many images and videos on the internet that it was scary. Why people hunted down good shots instead of running away?

Unsurprisingly, Tony froze the frame in which a blur of dark blue could be seen. Hint: it was neither you nor Steve in his stealth suit.

No. It was the enhanced girl. The fast one. The one you knew too little about to your comfort.

“Hate to say it, but things could have got ugly without the Rush-girl rushing in,” Tony announced and you scoffed, mainly because you felt like he was nudging your conscience.

It felt like he was blaming you, seeing you wouldn’t have been able to hold the falling debris for long enough. You were sure Tony wouldn’t blame you, since he knew all too well you simply couldn’t beat it; after all he had been the one to install your fail-safe, preventing you hurting yourself. But you also knew he didn’t like the thought of anyone else getting hurt because of it either.

The thing was it always went like this with this enhanced girl. She would show up, help the Avengers and then puff, she was gone. No trace. Except for the people she saved. The ones you might have failed to save unless she had come.

You forced yourself to drift away from the dark thoughts.

“Tony, your nicknames are getting more ridiculous with each try,” you remarked, earning a few hums in agreement from around the table.

“I can go back to naming you if you want… Popsicle. I bet Cap here got the memo and he loves to lick and s-”

“Stark!” Steve lashed out at him, his cheeks getting an unhealthy shade of red. You choked on your own spit.

You were pretty happy with Tony somewhat reconciling with Steve (and you and others), okay, but his jokes were sometimes too much. He really was pushing it.

“Go to hell, Metalbrain,” you muttered under your breath, feeling your ears burning.

Also, yes. Yes, Steve got the memo. So did you. But you didn’t need to talk about it in front of everyone, thank you very much.

“Cute blush you have here. I hit the nail on the head, eh?” Tony continued, earning a murderous glare from Steve, who certainly was sporting a remarkable blush.

“Tony!” you called out, not less horrified than your significant other.

“Trust the advice of the elder – biologically older anyway. Hate to break it to you, but that’s not how you make a kid. Then again maybe that’s the point-“

“Tony, shut your metal mouth or I swear to god I will tell Pepper you’re being a pervert.”

A look of pure horror appeared on his face and you couldn’t help but smile smugly. This always worked.

The thing was Tony would know how to get a girl pregnant; Pepper Potts lived to tell the tale. She was in her twenty-seventh week, after all; and her hormones were misbehaving. Big time. Her emotions were like on a roller-coaster lately and no one with a shred of brain wanted to be on her bad side, ever, let alone now.

Needless to mention Pepper Potts was a strong woman, capable of handling herself, being in control. She wasn’t quite in control of herself now and what was even worse, she always had been the more rational part of the Stark and Potts-Stark duo, keeping Tony’s impulsiveness in check. Once again, not now. And it was driving her insane.

So yeah, threatening Tony with snitching him to Pepper always worked these days. It was even mean of you. Then again, Tony was being extremely pervert today, venting his frustration on you and you did not like it at all.

“Ouch. Low blow, Popsicle, low blow,” Tony said darkly, before his expression turned gleeful again. “See what I did there with the blow--- never mind, I have a place to be. Bye, kids!”

Tony took his abrupt escape, disappearing from the room, and you sighed heavily. You massaged the bridge of your nose, feeling your face burning with embarrassment. The rest of the team pretended not to watch you highly amused.

“He’s an actual infant— no, he’s worse,” you stated, your voice a little too high-pitched.

“That’s hardly any news. Now, can we pay attention to the actual problem?” Natasha interjected, switching back to professional mood.

“Sure. Let’s talk more about the Rush-girl,” Clint hummed, a smirk on his lips.

A collective groan was the answer, but you did start working.

────── ·❆· ──────  

Part 2

────── ·❆· ──────  

There we go! 

The first chapter of the last part of Melting Hearts. Hopefully, I will make it worth it your attention ;)

Thank you for reading! Happy Sunday :-*

[vodkassassin]

You've been bullying SQH too much, he needs a break! Maybe some cuddles? A vacation? An emotional support animal? All of the above?

Two of the above, as a treat. Other options to be considered at a later date, perhaps... ;3 @dancibayo

Warnings for injury and near drowning >.>

—

There is a reason that, way in the beginning of all this peak lord business — before then, in fact, when they were all still just head disciples, brand new to the job and still figuring things out— there is a reason that Shang Qinghua signed the paperwork making Mu Qingfang his mission partner. And only Mu Qingfang.

It wasn’t because Mu Qingfang was the only one out of all of his martial family that Shang Qinghua liked, or could actually deal with… though it was kind of for that reason, but not entirely! The main reason, here, is that Shang Qinghua was not at the time entirely sure how to work with his martial siblings, and when he had tried, it… didn’t really work out.

There are a lot of examples in which missions with a martial sibling other than Mu Qingfang have not worked out, but the paragon amongst them all was that first mission with his fellow head disciple, Liu Qingge. Whenever Shang Qinghua thinks about why Mu Qingfang is his preferred mission partner, that one clusterfuck with Liu-shidi always comes to the forefront of his mind no matter how he wishes he could just forget about it.

A lot of the reason that mission had been such a total failure, in hindsight, really doesn’t have anything to do with Shang Qinghua at all, and a lot to do with the fact that Liu Qingge had, at the time, held such a low opinion of Shang Qinghua that it made working with the man an absolute trial.

In Liu Qingge’s defense, he’s much better nowadays. Like, a lot better. He barely glares at him anymore, even! Well, Liu-shidi glares at everyone, that’s sort of his default expression, but the glare is much less scary when pointed in Shang Qinghua’s direction than it had been even just a year ago! Progress!

Shang Qinghua ducks under the heavy swipe of one colossal, furry paw, complete with wickedly sharp claws that peak out just above the oversized toe-beans, and resists the urge to wail. He yanks out his sword and hops onto it like it’s a snowboard, and directs it into the air with a monumental push of his qi. The claws miss the edge of his robes by mere inches, and Shang Qinghua starts to daydream, a little bit, about what kind of headstone he wants for his memorial.

There’s another big reason, which he’s being reminded of right now, why Shang Qinghua would actually rather be partnered on a mission with anyone other than Liu Qingge.

The man loves monster fighting.

Now, listen. Listen! Shang Qinghua, he is a big fan of the monsters of this world. Mainly because he created most of them himself. They are just as much his beautiful (and sometimes incredibly less-so) babies as the characters he’d spent hours crafting with his words. Seeing them in full-form, brought to very real life in this world that is fashioned after his story is so fucking cool, but also! Actually mainly! Very, very fucking terrifying. Because those things, most of them, can, will, and have certainly tried, many a time in the past, to kill him.

And Liu Qingge’s absolute, favorite pastime is hunting these creatures down and facing off against them, for fun.

So like, sue Shang Qinghua if he can’t really see the appeal.

He’d rather be stuck in his office surrounded by stacks of unfinished paperwork with a deadline, than be dragged out by his martial brother to face another monster. At least then, he would be safe, and not have to deal with nearly being shredded by giant titan tiger claws, thanks!

Unfortunately for Shang Qinghua, ever since Liu Qingge had decided, for some reason that he still couldn’t figure out, that they are friends, he’s been coming to An Ding to regularly kidnap Shang Qinghua and force him out on what the man probably thinks is fun, bonding time between martial brothers or something.

It’s not. It’s not fun. It’s certainly bonding time, perhaps, if only because of the many times Liu Qingge has been forced to come over and save Shang Qinghua’s skin. Then again, Shang Qinghua has also been forced to save Liu Qingge’s skin, through vastly different means than Liu Qingge has saved his, so maybe it is some type of bonding? Experiencing life-threatening situations together is a sure-fire way to form close ties with someone. Like, that’s a legitimate trope. Shang Qinghua has used that one in his own stories many a time before.

So, Liu Qingge might be onto something here. But Shang Qinghua wishes he’d choose some other way to level up their apparent friendship than monster hunting. Can’t they just stay home and have tea? Play some go? Not potentially die?!

“Qinghua!” Liu Qingge calls. He sounds a little exasperated. He’s exasperated, huh? Shang Qinghua is exasperated with this entire trip! “Pay attention!”

Shang Qinghua ducks again, aiming his sword down sharply as his shidi’s sword shrieks by overhead in the spot he’d just been, to parry the monster’s attack with a serious OP swing of the same blade.

It’s really unfair, sometimes, watching how easily powerful his martial family can be. And then there’s Shang Qinghua, who… isn't, really? Just, nowhere near as powerful as the likes of Liu Qingge, or Yue Qingyuan.

Then again, maybe that’s trying to compare 5G internet to dial up? They’re simply in entirely different leagues.

Shang Qinghua’s eyes water as he rockets toward the ground, to where there huddles a cluster of disciples that stare with wide-eyes and awed faces as Liu-shidi does his thing. Their expressions are practically meme-worthy. God, he misses the internet so, so much. He might cry.

Wait, no, he can’t cry right now, the Bai Zhan disciples are right there, and they will make fun of him for it. Absolutely no respect with these kids. Liu-shidi, please teach your peak disciples some manners!

“Shang-shibo,” one of them complains, sword unsheathed entirely and obviously rearing for some action. “Does Shizun — does he want —?”

Shang Qinghua holds up a hand. The disciple falls silent, and the entire group of them watch him like over-eager hawks waiting for their prey to make a mistake. He takes a moment to catch his breath.

“No,” he eventually says, sending a brief glance over his shoulder to where the Bai Zhan peak lord is going head to head with a flying tiger the size of a dragon. “Shizhi, does your Shizun look like he wants help? Does your Shizun ever want help?”

One of the other disciples, a girl this time, bearing biceps that might be bigger than melons, grumbles. “He doesn’t. But why can’t we fight, too? It’s not fair, Shibo!”

“What wouldn’t be fair, is having both your arms ripped off before you can even graduate Jiedan.” Shang Qinghua refutes, and begins to herd the lot of them back toward the tree line so that they are at least out of sight. “This beast is a third-rank Flying Thunder Deity, it is so far out of your league in terms of strength that I’m currently questioning whether we should have brought you all with us on this mission in the first place.”

The disciples look disgruntled.

“But, Shibo—!”

“Nope!” Shang Qinghua holds up a finger and gives them all a stern look. Liu Qingge may not give a fuck whether his disciples remain unscathed or not — honestly, the man likely assumed them to all have fled like smart disciples of their level would, but he obviously greatly underestimated their enthusiasm for a good fight. Which is just incredibly fucking ironic of him. Anyway, no disciple of Cang Qiong sect is going to be in harm's way, if Shang Qinghua has any say about it. “I don’t want to hear it. All of you stay here, if I see a single limb out of these trees, I’ll assign the lot of you as aids to my paper-pushers for three months.”

At their adequately horrified looks, Shang Qinghua decides that his job here is as done as it can be, and so he turns around to peer back out at the currently thunderous (as the name of the beast might suggest) battle currently being waged. If any of the disciples decide to actually take their chances — both at potentially becoming paste on the ground and being stuck helping his disciples with copying out fresh requisition forms, then that’s not exactly his problem, is it? Shang Qinghua tried his best!

He rises up on his sword to where his shidi is fighting the Flying Thunder Deity several hundred feet up in the sky.

Aerial combat has never been Shang Qinghua’s strong suit, and quite honestly it’s neither the strong suit of any other cultivator, strong in battle as Liu-shidi or not. There’s just something about attempting to juggle needing to balance on your soul sword to stay in the air and also needing that same weapon to fight with, that is just altogether difficult.

It’s fifteen minutes of ducking and weaving and praying that he can move just fast as to be an irritating enough pest to the Deity that it turns it’s attention onto Shang Qinghua and consequently gives Liu Qingge the opening he needs, when Shang Qinghua’s hopes come true a little too well.

The thunderous (ha-ha) expression that graces Liu Qingge’s face when the Flying Thunder Deity snaps it’s huge, hulk of heard forward and encloses him in its massive jaws would have been gratifying in literally any other circumstance. Shidi! You do care! Or are you pissed at Shang Qinghua, for being so slow and requiring rescuing yet again? He’s sorry, Liu-shidi, he really is! Next time he would move faster! Or better yet, not come at all! Just as he’d originally begged you, shidi!

Shang Qinghua wishes that people would listen to him more. It would make his life so much less stressful than it is.

“Qinghua!” Liu Qingge shouts, with a tone to it that makes Shang Qinghua’s heart stutter oddly. Or maybe that’s because he’s, you know, currently trapped in the mouth of a vicious monster that probably won’t hesitate to swallow him whole? But, could it be, that Liu-shidi really does care?

Such ponderous thoughts will have to be shelved for now, to be ruminated upon later when he’s safe. For now, Shang Qinghua curls up into a ball, shaking like a leaf, his elbow bouncing off a curving incisor that’s nearly the length of his entire body, and he can’t help but let out a terrified cry.

This is it, isn’t it? Nearly a century of surviving against all odds, making it through perilous situation with no hope after perilous situation, avoiding death flag after death flag, to be eaten by this hungry, flying tiger the size of a small mountain.

Truly, he’s so blessed to be going out with such a bang.

System! Shang Qinghua wails miserably inside his head, a series of loud whimpers bursting from his mouth without his permission. Be useful for once and lend me a scenario pusher!

The cheerful ding that rings throughout his mind is incredibly ignorant of the current circumstances. [Request acknowledged! Please contact customer support to undergo an eligibility survey.]

There is no such thing as customer support, Shang Qinghua knows. He’s neither a customer, nor is he sure that the System actually has any higher power that it answers to. It clearly loves fucking with him, though, and he clenches his jaw and screams through his teeth in frustration as the sharp point of one of those too-close teeth digs viciously into his side.

I don’t have time for that! Fuck! System, please! I don’t want to die! Be nice to me for once in your miserable existence! I deserve it, dammit!

There’s a brief pause, and during it Shang Qinghua thinks he can hear his shidi yelling amongst the sounds of battle.

[... Host’s complaint has been posted and reviewed.] Oh, wow. That’s a first! [Due to Hosts exemplary services rendered, compensation has been rewarded. Would host like to exchange for a scenario pusher?]

Just save me already! Shang Qinghua demands, curling into an even tighter ball. The tooth digs into his flesh painfully, and he bites back a sob.

[Compensation loading…]

The tiger is growling, now. Shang Qinghua can feel the coalescing vibrations of the sound as it emanates from behind him, from deep within the beats chest, rippling sound waves that travel up it’s throat and make him tremble from the force of them alone. His skull is split by a resounding headache, and his vision doubles. It’s like being trapped inside a subwoofer box, and it hurts.

Shang Qinghua is struck rather suddenly by a massive fit of vertigo, as the tiger seems to shake its head in response to whatever attack Liu Qingge is throwing at it. Being inside its mouth, the motion sends the An Ding peak lord sprawling, and he nearly impales himself on one of it’s incisors. Thankfully, being covered in its saliva, though disgusting, seems to be a silver lining of some sort, because he’s by now slippery enough with it that the tooth only deals him a glancing blow. Despite not being as fatal as it could have been otherwise, it still hurts enough, sharply enough, that Shang Qinghua can’t hold back the cry of pain and surprise that escapes him.

The deep vibrations of the growl come to an abrupt halt. Shang Qinghua only has time to hear Liu Qingge make a distant sound of confusion and anger, before he’s unceremoniously spat out into the open air.

It’s a relief! Truly, it is, to be freed of the tight, damp space that was a beast’s hungry maw at long last. However, there’s still a problem! A big one!

Shang Qinghua doesn’t have his sword, and they’re all still hanging out several hundred feet up in the air! By the laws of physics, he has only a brief millisecond to feel any sort of relief before he goes plummeting to his death. He brings up his arms to shield his face from the turbulent air, robes flapping in its vicious currents.

“Qinghua!”

He peeks open eyes that he doesn’t recall closing to find his amazing, beautiful, talented shidi diving down beside him, sword under his feet and hand held outstretched toward him. Shang Qinghua doesn’t have enough air in his life to breath out a sigh of relief as he reaches out for him, ready to cry, because within the very next second he’s ripped away from the help by a big, furry blur that knocks him out of the sky entirely.

He continues to fall for a few long, terrifying seconds, and then he’s fighting to breathe not because the air is moving past him too fast to catch, but because he’s been submerged in water.

He panics, kicking his legs uselessly against the heavy weight of the tide that wraps around him and shoves him roughly to and fro. He’s not entirely certain which way is up and which way is down. His lungs are tight and painful with their pleas for air, and Shang Qinghua can see spots begin to dance before his vision.

Something grabs onto the very back of his robes, then, and he’s dragged out of the water and lands heavily on a patch of what he’s able to eventually identify as grass, once his mind has enough ragged gasps of sweet, sweet oxygen to get itself into working order again.

He rolls himself over and onto his knees, fisting his hands in the grass as he spits out mouthful after mouthful of water. His eyes sting with tears, but thankfully he’s so soaked he doesn’t think they will be all that apparent to anyone who thinks to look at him now. He brings up a hand, to press the back of his fist into his mouth and smother the sob that wants to burst free. He doesn’t really succeed.

There’s an odd sound from nearby, almost like an engine of some sort, which is incredibly confusing because Shang Qinghua hasn’t heard anything of the like since his last life, where the world was much more industrially advanced. There’s a brief moment of confusion, where his mind races in trying to correlate the sound with something that makes more sense, before something big and warm presses against his side and nuzzles heavily into his neck.

Shang Qinghua blinks, dumbly, vision still swimming in such a way that it makes his aching, pounding head revolt in nausea, but after a moment he’s able to turn his head to the side and get a mouthful of fur instead of a visual.

He splutters, reeling back, which of course gives the Flying Thunder Deity, which is no longer flying nor deity-sized, to press forward even more. It knocks the befuddled Shang Qinghua into the grass and clambers over him, purring loudly and aggressively all the while as it nuzzles him and butts it’s head into his again and again.

“Um,” someone says, and Shang Qinghua blearily looks up from the now normal-sized tiger to find a group of disciples staring down at him, looking just as confused as he feels. “Shang-shibo?”

He blinks, head canting toward the side as the Flying Thunder Deity shoves at it with it’s leathery nose. It’s purring so loudly he can feel it in his jaw. “Yes?”

“Would you, uh…” The disciple speaking gestures at him and the tiger. “Would you like help?”

“Hm,” Shang Qinghua considers the offer, laid flat out on the ground as he is while being aggressively cuddled by a suddenly, oddly, terrifyingly over-affectionate tiger that had literally, just a few moments ago, tried to eat him. “.... Hmm.”

“Mwrrrr,” the tiger echoes, long whiskers tickling Shang Qinghua’s face.

“...Shang-shibo?”

“Qinghua!” Ah, look who finally decides to join them!

Liu Qingge barrels to a landing in the grass right beside him and barely has time to yank his sword up from under himself when the newly enamoured tiger jumps to its feet, bristling and hissing like a house cat facing an annoying, yapping dog that’s intruded into their home.

Liu Qingge is very visibly confused at the newest course of events, but there’s still a level of rage that thrums underneath it, and he readies his sword against the Thunder Deity, muscles twitching in anticipation that far exceeds his usual excitement for a fight. For some reason, that Shang Qinghua is currently too dazed to even guess at, it has become personal.

The tiger’s tail flicks, it’s sharp teeth bared as a growl erupts from its throat, and Shang Qinghua apparently had lost all common sense during his fall into the lake, because he props himself up on one elbow and reaches out his hand to curls it into the damp, wet fur around the tiger’s neck.

Immediately, the beast stops growling. It even turns its back to Liu Qingge! In order to plop down into Shang Qinghua’s lap and nuzzle it’s face into his neck, purring once again at full blast. The Bai Zhan disciples that are gathered a few hundred feet away make a series of quietly alarmed sounds. What the fuck! Liu Qingge looks just as confused.

“Qinghua?”

“I don’t know, shidi,” Shang Qinghua says, shrugging. It sends a ripple of pain that spikes in his lower abdomen and winds up his side, and he winces. “Ow.”

“You’re injured,” now Liu Qingge is frowning at him, but he doesn’t move to come any closer. His hand is whit knuckling the hilt of his sword, and he glances between Shang Qinghua and the tiger in open puzzlement.

“Yeah, kinda got impaled on its teeth,” Shang Qinghua replies, and makes a face. “When they were, uh, you know, bigger. Before...”

“It shrunk.” Liu Qingge states, scowling.

As if on cue, there’s a bright flash of light that momentarily blinds him, and the weight in Shang Qinghua’s lap shifts. Once his vision clears, he glances down to find a small, fuzzy little tiger cub gazing up at him with big, round, glistening eyes.

Shang Qinghua stares at it. The cub purrs, much softer than it had in its adolescent form, and gently butts it’s head against his chest, mewling quietly.

Shang Qinghua tears up. He can’t help it. He struggles to sit up, gathering the cub into his arms as he goes, and holds it against his chest. It’s fuzzy little ears perk up, tickling against his collar bone, and Shang Qinghua swallows.

Liu Qingge stares, as well, about as absolutely befuddled as the rest of them. After a moment, though, his face clears of its confusion, as if he’s decided to simply discard it, and he gives a shrug, hefting his sword arm up a bit and taking a step forward.

Shang Qinghua startles, scooting back a bit even though it pulls at his injury. “Shidi?!”

“It will be easier to kill, like this.” Liu Qingge says, nonchalant.

Shang Qinghua clutched the tiny, purring little tiger to his chest, aghast. “Shidi, no! It’s a baby!”

“It’s not,” Liu Qingge frowns at him. He points at the cub, who continues in its mission to aggressively cuddle the An Ding lord. “It’s a fully grown adult Flying Thunder Deity. It can just change its size.”

Shang Qinghua pauses. He pulls the still-purring cub away from his chest and holds it up to his eye-level.

“You tried to eat me,” he accuses.

The tiger cub blinks once, slowly, and lets out a tiny mewl in response.

“....” Shang Qinghua wraps his arms around the tiny thing and cuddles it to his chest. “I forgive you!”

“Shang Qinghua,” Liu Qingge exclaims, exasperated. Which! Not fair! Shang Qinghua wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for him! So really, this is all Liu-shidi’s fault to begin with!

He tells him as such, and Liu Qingge scowls grumpily one response.

Shang Qinghua stands to his feet. And immediately tilts to the side. Liu Qingge steps forward, sword sheathed, to catch him around the waist, and the tiger gives a startled meow as it’s suddenly squished between the two of them.

Both men stare down at it. It blinks up at them for a moment, before turning to nuzzle it’s face into the dampened collar of Shang Qinghua’s robes, closing its eyes as if it's decided to take a nap then and there.

“You can’t tell me you’re going to kill it,” Shang Qinghua says. His words are beginning to slur together. “It’s too cute, Qingge!”

Liu Qingge tenses slightly at his given name, as he always seems to do when Shang Qinghua uses it. If he didn’t want him saying it, he shouldn’t have given him permission in the first place! After a moment, the man relaxes, and something about his face is… not as fierce, somehow.

Shang Qinghua doesn’t know what that means.

“You’re soaked,” Liu Qingge says. “... And injured.”

“Impaled,” Shang Qinghua reminds him, blinking his eyes slowly. They feel a little heavy. Maybe the tiger had the right idea of a nap. “Almost drowned.”

Liu Qingge frowns at the reminder. He stoops down after a moment and scoops up Shang Qinghua’s legs. Normally, he would protest being bridal carried like some maiden, but right now he’s way too tired. He rests his head against Liu Qingge’s shoulder, the tiger purring sleepily on his stomach, and closes his eyes.

There’s a quiet cough. “Shizun.” One of the disciples speaks. They sound embarrassed, for some reason?

“We’re heading back to the sect.” Liu Qingge announces.

“The, ah… the tiger?”

There’s a long moment of thoughtful silence. Then, “It’s your Shibo’s.”

“Ah…. okay….”

Shang Qinghua turns his face into his shidi’s collar and falls into a doze.

[odanurr87]

My thoughts on... Hotel del Luna

From left to right: Pyo Ji-hoon as Ji Hyun-joong; Yeo Jin-goo as Gu Chan-sung; Lee Ji-eun (IU) as Jang Man-wol; Bae Hae-seon as Choi Seo-hee; and Shin Jung-keun as Kim Sun-bi.

Released in 2019, Hotel del Luna was my introduction to the works of the Hong sisters as well as actors Yeo Jin-goo and Lee Ji-eun (IU), and what an introduction it was! The first episode of the show was excellent, giving us a hint of Man-wol’s tragic past that left me wanting to know more, then moving forwards in time to reenact that scene from Beauty and the Beast where Belle’s father is caught trying to steal a rose from Beast’s garden to give to Belle, and finally reaching present day as Man-wol tries to recruit Chan-sung and introduces him, and us, to this world of gods, ghosts, and souls with lingering grudges, that reminded me of the wondrous world of Harry Potter. Everything clicked for me in this episode, from the beautiful cinematography and music to the strong performances, particularly IU’s as Man-wol who knocked it out of the park and, incidentally, has a most impressive wardrobe and an uncanny ability to look amazing in every single one of her outfits. This was a highly promising start for my next modern fantasy show after Goblin and I couldn’t wait for the next episode. But what is this show about and why should you watch it?

Plot synopsis

21 years ago, Gu Chang-sung’s father cut a deal with the beautiful and mysterious owner of Hotel del Luna, Jang Man-wol, so that she would save his life in exchange for his son. Regretting the deal afterwards, the father left the country with his son hoping to spare him his fate. Believing himself to be safe, Gu Chan-sung has returned to work as assistant manager in one of Korea’s top hotels but Jang Man-wol is intent on collecting on the old debt by having him work in her hotel instead. However, Hotel del Luna is not your typical establishment, as Gu Chan-sung soon finds out, providing a service for souls who need healing or have grudges left to settle before moving on. While initially afraid of the prospect of becoming assistant manager at a hotel that serves ghosts, Gu Chan-sung finds himself intrigued by the challenge and curious about the story of the beautiful owner who runs it.

A magical atmosphere

Stepping into the world of Hotel del Luna feels like taking the train at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters and attending Hogwarts. In fact, our intrepid hero, Gu Chan-sung, also receives a magical letter welcoming him as Hotel del Luna’s new manager, and while there’s nothing magical about the subway that takes him there Jang Man-wol does use a little magic to ensure their first encounter goes undisturbed. The hotel itself reminded me of Hogwarts, not because it is filled with ghosts and can only be found by them (and the very much alive and fearful human manager), but because of the feeling of perpetual wonder knowing that behind every door lies a new magical mystery waiting to be discovered, be it a room only people who are alive can enter but not exit, the sky lounge, a swimming pool that is actually a beach in some undetermined plane of existence, or a beautiful garden with a magical tree that holds one of the hotel’s biggest secrets. Of course, one should not forget CEO Jang Man-wol (if one wishes to live) who, while certainly a very different character from Albus Dumbledore in terms of personality, always knows more than she’s letting on and is usually in control of any situation, even if the outcome isn’t always the one she anticipates. There is also the wonderful supporting cast in the form of the different incarnations of the deity Ma Go-sin (played by Seo Yi-sook, who looks like she’s having a blast playing the different sides of the goddess), a reserved but diligent Grim Reaper (played by Kang Hong-suk), and the welcoming staff of the hotel, represented by the trio of Kim Sum-bi (the bartender), Choi Seo-hee (the room manager), and Ji Hyun-joong (the hotel receptionist).

In the same way we cannot divorce Harry Potter from its music, given its distinct signature by that legend that is John Williams, I cannot forego mentioning Hotel del Luna’s mysterious, magical, and ethereal, instrumental soundtrack. Let me take you on a brief musical tour, shall I? Let’s start by taking subway line 4 and going to Hotel del Luna. The receptionist seems to be asleep so why don’t we let ourselves in? Wow, looks like the hotel’s throwing a party, apparently they’re welcoming human guests for the first time in years and the staff is particularly excited about it. That explains how we managed to get in (remember, this is not really a hotel for living, breathing, people). I can see that the bartender is busy receiving food orders and members of the staff are decorating the hall with real flowers. Hey, where’s that kid sneaking off to? Let’s follow him. Oh, that’s the Samdocheon Tunnel, which marks the boundary between this life and the afterlife. The Grim Reaper and the manager are there to bid farewell to one of the hotel’s guests. Apparently, there’s a bridge beyond the tunnel that takes 49 days to cross! I’m not eager to cross it just yet so let’s return to the hotel. Wait, why is there water everywhere? Looks like a water god managed to get past the receptionist (not that difficult when he’s asleep) and the CEO isn’t very happy about it. Yup, she definitely doesn’t look happy. We’d better make our exit before she figures out we shouldn’t be here.

To complement this excellent instrumental soundtrack, my favourite among all the kdramas I’ve watched to date, there’s an amazing selection of songs by artists like Red Velvet, TAEYEON, Heize, Punch, Chung Ha, and Paul Kim, among many others. IU herself sings an absolutely beautiful song that plays in one of the most highly-anticipated scenes of the show but which, sadly, has not been released. However, just as important as having a great soundtrack is using it well. If you’ve read my reviews of Angel’s Last Mission: Love or Strong Woman Do-Bong Soon, you should have an idea of how much I value using the right music at the right time to convey or accentuate the proper emotions during dramatic, comedic, or romantic scenes. Correct music usage can lead to your soundtrack being memorable, whereas incorrect music usage will surely render it forgettable. Fortunately for us, Hotel del Luna knows precisely when to use its music and how. It knows when levity is called for and when it’s not, when to highlight the wondrous side of magic and when to show its darker side, when to use Heize’s “Can You See My Heart” or Punch’s “Done For Me.” I believe it was John Williams, when talking about the music of the original Star Wars trilogy, who said that he wanted the score to tell the story of what was going on in the screen. I believe Hotel del Luna’s score achieves this feat.

Another aspect that contributes to the magical atmosphere of the show is, without a doubt, its incredible cinematography (from camera angles, through its beautiful use of lighting and colours) which, combined with its excellent score, can create scenes that are best defined as poetry in motion. I particularly liked how it favoured studio sets for shooting many of its scenes, giving the sensation that we’re watching a superb play that encourages us to send our imagination into overdrive. Even some of the more noticeable VFX work, like the city view from the hotel’s sky lounge plays into the notion that one cannot always tell what’s real and what’s fake in Hotel del Luna, as Man-wol warns Chan-sung that the view from the sky lounge is not from this world, but the fall will kill him just the same (Man-wol being Man-wol). Because I’m not knowledgeable enough to explain the show’s cinematography in technical terms, I’ll leave you with a trailer that captures some aspects of it and, luckily, also showcases Jang Man-wol’s incredible selection of dresses.

A part of a greater whole

In my review of Bring it on, Ghost I mentioned the show followed a certain formula that is often poorly executed in Western shows. There is a main story-arc that encompasses the whole of the show and there are side stories where our protagonists confront the “ghost of the week.” One of the strengths of Bring it on, Ghost lied in how these side stories would sometimes tie into the main story or would be used to expand on a character’s backstory so that they rarely came across as filler. Hotel del Luna executes the same formula with a lot more thought and care, often laying out the groundwork for events later down the episode, what is expected, or even later down the show, what is a bit more impressive. The Hong sisters remain true to their initially-stated intention throughout the show and reinforce this with the aid of these side stories, preparing both Gu Chan-sung and us for the inevitable dénouement of the show. Let me try to illustrate my point by way of an example. I don’t want to give more for fear of completely spoiling the show for you.

Episode 5 tells the story of a ghost bride whose parents want to give a soul wedding so she will be able to peacefully pass into the afterlife. Unfortunately, the chosen partner for this soul wedding ends up being Gu Chan-sung’s best friend, Sanchez, so while Man-wol goes shopping as Audrey Hepburn with the parents’ black card (our girl has very expensive tastes), Gu Chan-sung tries to figure out a way to spare his terrified friend. After some twists and turns, what is often the case with this show as the truth is not always what it seems, it is revealed that it is actually the groom’s parents who want to marry off the bride so she’ll let go of their son, who’s in a coma. For those who’ve watched Bring it on, Ghost, the parallels with the ghost side story from Episode 10 are fairly evident, as the ghost bride needs to find the strength to let go of the person she loves and she ultimately does so in one of the most beautifully composed scenes of the show. This is one of those “poetry in motion” scenes I was talking about. As the groom runs away in shock and fear, the bride gathers the courage to cut the red string of fate tying them together, under the intent gazes of Gu Chan-sung, dressed as the groom, and Jan Man-wol, dressed as a bride (in red).

You need a stronger will to let go than to hold on.

This scene is a portent of events yet to come, when the day finally arrives where Chan-sung and Man-wol will also have to part ways. Indeed, several episodes later, the room manager will remind Gu Chan-sung of the words Goddess Ma Go-sin then told the ghost bride, “You need a stronger will to let go than to hold on.” The bride’s selfless act of letting go of the person she loves, breaking free from her earthly tether of her own volition, can be seen as a challenge to Man-wol, whose hatred for the man who betrayed her has been her sole drive for the past 1,300 years but also a curse that has bounded her to the hotel and prevented her from dying. Could she, like the bride, unburden herself by letting go of her hatred? Is it possible for someone with such a long and deep resentment to simply let go? This is a recurring question throughout the show and one that puts her at odds with her increasing desire to protect Gu Chan-sung, as she fears her actions, born of her hatred for the people who wronged her, might end up harming the man she loves.

Side stories such as this one often give us further insight into Man-wol, whether it be a glimpse of her past or challenging her beliefs, making her question herself and her actions, however briefly.

A fairy tale romance

Man-wol is a tsundere character, both a Beauty and a Beast, who has been nursing a thousand-year-old grudge against the people who betrayed her and consequently filters every human interaction through a lens of cold cynicism, expecting the worst from people. Chan-sung on the other hand, is a proper gentleman, a type of character we don’t often see in kdramas and a natural consequence of his training as a hotel manager. He’s friendly, cultured, well-mannered, kind, clever, and someone who's very much in control of his emotions most of the time. The evolution of the relationship between these two characters is the centrepiece of Hotel del Luna, a breath of fresh air in a landscape that often feels the need to use love triangles, or other polygons, as a shortcut to properly fleshing out the relationship between two characters. While there are elements of a love triangle present, such as expressions of jealousy for the sake of comedy, Hotel del Luna chooses to forego this trope and commit fully to the main characters’ fairy tale-like romance.

When you tell her you’ve been dreaming about her.

Another trope the Hong sisters mostly dispense with is that of misunderstandings, which are kept to a bare minimum, as Man-wol and Chan-sung are very open with each other regarding their thoughts and feelings, although Man-wol is, understandably, less transparent about her feelings in the beginning. It was incredibly refreshing to witness two characters that could guess each other’s thoughts and were willing to have an open and honest conversation about it rather than to hold back for the sake of drama. Of course, this did become somewhat frustrating for Man-wol (and fun for us) when Chan-sung started gaining more confidence, feeling at ease with Man-wol, and rebuking her selfish or materialistic actions. Their playful banter and bickering throughout the show is, to my mind, a clear indication that they’re comfortable with each other, as strong a sign of the chemistry in their relationship as half a dozen kisses, if not a better one, what is a good thing because those are few and far between. On the other hand, it makes those moments much more valuable and meaningful. The love between Man-wol and Chan-sung comes across in the gestures they make, in their facial expressions, in the words spoken and left unsaid. When Man-wol tries to comfort Chan-sung but doesn’t know how (Video), when she confesses she wants him to stay with her till the end and they share an intimate hug (Video), when Chan-sung breaks down and cries at the thought of not being able to see Man-wol ever again (Video), when the two have a conversation on the balcony under the moonlight (Video)... These are a precious few examples of the beauty, strength, and depth of feeling, of their relationship.

When the adult catches you in a lie.

While Man-wol is not the same ruthless person she was at the beginning of the show as she is at the end, she still retains some elements or traits of her personality throughout the show (there’s still a little tsun in her dere), as it should be. In one episode Chan-sung is remarking upon how much nicer she has become and she replies, “Gu Chan-sung, you’ve made leaves and flowers grow and have changed me a lot. But you won’t be able to change my core personality. Don’t even expect that.” Even as she says this you can see her looking a little uneasy about something, a little girl about to be caught in a lie by the adult who’s trying to keep her out of trouble. It is thanks to Gu Chan-sung’s patient and enduring love, that protected her from the worst aspects of her own self, that Man-wol is able to let go of her anger, both literally and metaphorically. But Man-wol also deserves praise, as she reciprocates Chan-sung’s love and equally tries to protect him from the dangers of this new world he has entered but most of all from herself, to the point she is willing to renounce her revenge and extinguish her existence to ensure she can never harm the man she loves.

Conclusion

It should be evident by now that I absolutely love this show and it is, without a doubt, my favourite out of all I’ve watched thus far, including Goblin. This is not to say the show is without flaws. Its almost single-minded focus on the story of Man-wol and Chan-sung has some collateral damage, most notably in the form of a character’s loved one, an event used as a means to highlight the pain experienced by those left behind, anticipating the day when our main protagonists will be forced to part ways. In another case, a poignant encounter for Chan-sung is not properly fleshed out, perhaps intentionally so but it seems like a wasted opportunity. Additionally, the introduction and development of the secondary villain’s arc (Man-wol is both the love interest and the main antagonist) felt a little weak, but is still a functional plot device that leads to some of the show’s best scenes. Finally, there is also the way the Hong sisters handled the riddle of Chan-sung’s dreams, which I may address in a separate post because it has too many spoilers.

If you’re a fan of fantasy dramas like Goblin, there’s simply no reason for me not to recommend this show and, hopefully, I’ve given you a few to persuade you as to why this is such a standout drama and, to my mind, the Hong sisters’ best work to date. It’s even on r/KDRAMA’s banner as one of those must-watch shows. If you do decide to watch it, I advise you to pace yourself so you don’t have to say goodbye to Hotel del Luna’s wonderful family too soon.

[evienyx]

lmao seems like you're becoming an mcyt blogger too. anyway i was wondering what are your thoughts on wilbur??? like the character, i mean

I’m expanding my horizons. I’m an incredibly versatile person.

Anyway, you want my thoughts on Wilbur? Oh, I can give you my thoughts on Wilbur.

First off, I would say that, as a character, Wilbur is probably my second favorite, right behind Techno. My favorites tend to differ from the norm, largely because of the fact that I’m a writer, and I look at everything with a bit of a different lense. Even subconsciously, the first time I watch the streams, I’m analyzing the story and the characters, thinking of ways it could have been improved, and admiring what’s done well.

And, damn, Wilbur’s character is done so well.

His descent into madness was, obviously, terrifying to see, but what’s most interesting about it to me is the fact that he feels so justified throughout it. His character is consistent, and what he wants is also consistent. Wilbur stated in his conversation to Phil that he’s come back multiple times to the button, that he’s almost pressed it so many times. Just that statement, the realization of how many times he’s come close to it, despite everything he’s said to Tommy, despite the way he’s been seemingly all for the revolution now,is terrifying. It’s seemed to us for quite a while now that, through the madness, through the insanity, he does believe that L’Manburg can be taken back.

It’s at this moment, though, in the button room, that the truth slowly dawns. All this time, Wilbur did believe that they could take L’Manburg back.

And, all this time, that hasn’t mattered in the slightest to him.

Win or lose, live or die, Wilbur was going to press that button.

If we ignore the fact that the button was a Chekhov’s gun, if we fully analyze this in character, it’s absolutely groundbreaking.

Because here we see a man who once would have done anything to save L’Manburg, now doing anything to destroy it.

One of the ways Wilbur’s arc over the last few months of story (since the election) can be well-represented is, in my opinion, through observation of his relationship and interactions with Tommy.

More specifically, though, in the way that he uses his power over Tommy, what value he places on Tommy’s wellbeing, and how Tommy views him.

At the L’Manburg election, they’re thick as thieves. They’re brothers, at that point, because in this household we roll with SBI family dynamics. Tommy looks to Wilbur for guidance, and when they lose the election and Schlatt exiles them, they run together. Wilbur calls for Tommy to run, they make sure the other is safe (ignore Wilbur’s death, lmao). They leave L’Manburg together.

When they start Pogtopia, when they start thinking about how they’re going to get their country back, Wilbur tries to cheer Tommy up. He jokes with him, references Tubbox. They brainstorm together, they share ideas. They plan, and they work as equals. Wilbur has Tommy drop the ‘President.’ They’re in this together, and one of them is not above the other, anymore. Wilbur does his best to make sure that Tommy is safe, and that he is as happy as possible in the current situation, despite how dark and dreary their prospects appear to be.

Skip forward a bit, and we come to the announcement of the Manburg Festival. Now, up until this point, the dynamics have been rather consistent since the election. We’ve seen Wilbur rise up and take charge a bit more when necessary, like with Tubbo and the whole double-agent business, but ideas are shared and they treat each other with both respect and love.

When Schlatt is making the announcement, with Wilbur and Tommy looking on from above, Tommy draws back his bow to take the president out, and Wilbur stops him. Tommy listens. Had the roles been reversed, this would not have occurred, but mostly because Tommy wouldn’t have questioned Wilbur’s judgement in the first place. Tommy has complete and utter faith in Wilbur and his decisions at this point. That is the power that Wilbur holds over Tommy. Tommy trusts him. Wilbur uses this power over Tommy to ensure that the outcome of each and every decision they make is optimal, and to make sure that both of them stay safe and the rebellion stays strong. It’s a relationship of faith and trust.

Then, though, the announcement of the festival. And, mainly, the aftermath of the announcement. As they walk through the forest, for the first time, we see Wilbur question his motives. We’ve never seen this before, and neither has Tommy. Wilbur wonders if his morals are correct, or if he’s just been assuming he’s in the right. He decides to be the bad guy, and the relationship with Tommy shifts. The trust and faith that Tommy places in Wilbur is turned right back on him as Wilbur tells Tommy that he’ll never be president. Wilbur uses the relationship that he has with Tommy, uses the subconscious trust Tommy places in him, to manipulate him.

At this point, they are no longer equals. Wilbur no longer values Tommy’s input, as Tommy isn’t on his side on this issue, and Tommy doesn’t share with Wilbur anymore, as the faith is gone. Still, Tommy continues to trust Wilbur, he just doesn’t have faith in him or believe that he’s doing the right thing. Additionally, Wilbur’s care for Tommy’s wellbeing deteriorates a bit, but he still does care. Just... not as much.

The next big shift would be the day of the Manburg Festival.

What is interesting about this day is that it is the one time that Wilbur and Tommy agree on whether or not to blow up Manburg, because, as Tubbo is executed by their ally in a shower of colorful sparks, Tommy calls for Wilbur to blow the place to smithereens. Wilbur’s failure here is one of the best things for the story, but we can talk about that another time.

While the dynamics don’t shift in any notable way at the festival, what with Tommy and Wilbur showing up together, fighting and working together, they do change dramatically after the festival is over.

We can see this mainly with two events: The Pit, and Tommy, Tubbo, and Niki’s talk.

Wilbur is the one who coaxes Tommy into fighting Techno (a fight that, logically, Wilbur knew Tommy would lose). He pushed at Tommy’s emotions, manipulated him, into fighting a battle that he had no hope of winning. Any care he had for Tommy’s wellbeing is out the window at this point. He willingly sent him into the Pit to die.

Additionally, this is the first time that Tommy explains that he isn’t fighting for Wilbur anymore. He fights not for Wilbur, but for vengeance for Tubbo in the pit, and when he talks with Tubbo and Niki, it becomes clear that he no longer has faith in nor trusts Wilbur.

The next turning point comes very soon, when Wilbur is in the button room with Tommy and Quackity.

Tommy convinces Wilbur not to press the button, and Wilbur says that he’ll trust in Tommy for now, and breaks the button down as well.

The thing about this that is most important is that Wilbur is lying, and Tommy doesn’t realize that until it is far too late.

We don’t realize this until much later, but Wilbur didn’t care about what Tommy said. He explained to Phil that, despite his words to Tommy, despite what he claims about trusting Tommy’s plan, he’s still come close to pressing the button again, and again. He doesn’t trust in Tommy’s plan, and even if he does, it doesn’t matter, because Wilbur doesn’t care. He’s going to press that button regardless.

What does come from this, though, is that Tommy begins to trust Wilbur again. He feels like Wilbur cares, like Wilbur has his back. He places Wilbur back as leader, in his mind, and all of these things come to a climax on the day of the battle between Manburg and Pogtopia.

The War for L’Manburg shows the two of them relatively trusting of one another on the field, despite Wilbur’s constant jokes about being the traitor (which we later find out to be true, but that’s not what this is about). Tommy trusts Wilbur on the battlefield, and listens to what he says. They fight together.

Wilbur then places Schlatt’s life into Tommy’s hands. He gives him an incredibly difficult decision to make, plays with Schlatt’s life just to rise conflict within Tommy. It doesn’t matter in the end, but I thought it was interesting to see.

Anyway, Wilbur then places Tommy as president-elect, while Wilbur plans to go and detonate the bombs beneath the country while Tommy speaks of plans to rebuild. Then, though, Tommy calls Wilbur president again, and Wilbur renames the country before passing it off to Tubbo.

Wilbur had called Tommy up to the podium to speak, right where a large part of the bombs were placed. His intent was for Tommy to speak there while Wilbur pressed the button and blew the country sky-high, with Tommy at the center of it all.

Any care Wilbur once had for Tommy’s wellbeing is gone, and nothing makes that more apparent than his attempted appointment of Tommy to the presidency, where he would have been in the most danger as he gave a speech while standing on a minefield, facing a crowd containing a man who lived only for chaos and another who vowed to watch the country burn to the ground along with any government that may wish to form.

We can see, as well, the moment Tommy realizes what’s going to happen. We can see when he begins calling for people to find Wilbur, muttering “no” as he searches desperately, and then screaming as his worst fears are realized and his brother Wilbur blows everything that he’s ever worked for into nothing more than a crater.

Wilbur’s character development, his arc, his consistency, is incredible to watch. It’s one of the most impressive things of the entire Dream SMP story (which, honestly, isn’t much of a surprise, since Wilbur’s been directing it this whole time, anyway). There are so many more things that I could say about this, but this post is long enough, so I’m gonna end it here.

I’m always up to rambling about Dream SMP things, especially analyzing characters, plot, motivations, and the like.

I’m a nerd, sue me.

[baticorngirl]

Title: In Mother’s Arms

Fandom: Batman

Characters: Damian Wayne, Talia Al Ghul, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson, Ra’s Al Ghul (Hallucinated), Tim Drake,

Relationships: Talia al Ghul & Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth & Damian Wayne, Batfamily Members & Damian Wayne, (Minor) Talia al Ghul/ Bruce Wayne, Titus & Damian Wayne, Damian Wayne & Original Dog Character

Summary: Damian Wayne had went through so much effort to finally go on patrol by himself. But once he achieves this, it almost immediately backfires. With Scarecrow standing in front of him in victory, and all his fears coming to life, how will he get out of this mess? Who could manage to save the scared little boy now?

A/N: So... a while back, I was looking for Damian Wayne Fear Toxin fics, but unfortunately, none of them had any Good Parent Talia. So yeah, this is my self-indulgent fic to make up for it. And fittingly enough, it's also Mother's Day!

Fair Warning that there's panic attacks and hallucinations in this fic, so if you're sensitive to that stuff, please don't read it.

Also, I'd like to thank @mac-attack5 for helping me flesh out the details of the plot.

Click HERE to read it on Ao3

Click HERE to read it on FF.Net

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Damian felt a drop of sweat roll down his face. He tugged his cloak around himself, the night suddenly feeling so much colder. The boy's breath was stuttery and shaky. His heartbeat loudly thumped in his ears. Dropping on to his knees, the poor child watched as his vision became blurry with tears.

He wasn't sure why he felt the undying need to never listen to his family when they told him these things were too dangerous. All he knew was that he certainly wouldn't be out here, fearful and cold, if it weren't for it.

Just earlier that day, he had been so very happy. Rain had been pouring outside, and clouds had swarmed the sky, but the gloom had not ruined Damian's mood. In his arms, lay a soft, playful, little puppy with golden fur named Warrior. Damian had adopted the puppy fairly recently, and he had already fallen in love with him. Everyday since his adoption, Damian always found something new about the puppy that was just absolutely amazing in his eyes. That specific day, it had been his speed.

"I timed him, Grayson. He could run 25 miles per hour!" Damian had informed his elder brother, with a proud smile on his face. Dick reached down and ruffled his hair, smiling back. Nighwing turned his attention towards the puppy that sat next to Damian.

"Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?" He sat down near the puppy and petted it. The dog woofed and jumped closer to Dick. Damian joined the two of them on the ground, getting out treats for the puppy.

"He is!" Damian tossed the treats next to the puppy. "And no matter what happens, he always will be." He wrapped his arm around the dog, pouting stubbornly to prove that nothing would take him away from his new pet.

Even that pout, though, had been a happy, loving, one. And in addition, his joy seemed to only continue. Damian had felt incredibly confident that afternoon. He carried himself with his head up even higher than usually, and he had a stern, strong look on his face. So just like any other time the boy felt incredibly confident, he would argue with his father over everything.

"I am undoubtedly strong enough to go on my own." Damian insisted, looking up at Bruce adamantly. His arms were tightly crossed over his chest. "You are just being paranoid, Father."

"You're ten years old. If you want, you can partner up with Dick, but you're too young to be without a partner." Bruce responded, his mouth resting in an apathetic frown. He glared down at the boy to make it clear that debating wasn't going to change his mind. "Come on, Damian. Are you coming, or not?"

Damian picked up his mask and adjusted it on his face, "I'm ready, but I refuse to go if you're going to treat me like an infant." He pivoted around to face a wall. Bruce sighed, putting a hand on Damian's shoulder.

"Fine, Damian, fine… Stay home, then." He began to turn around, walking over to the batmobile. He jumped, springing himself into the driver's seat. Turning back towards Damian for one more moment, Bruce sighed again. "Just... be good for Alfred while your siblings and I are gone."

Whoosh! The batmobile and the other batkid's motorcycles began to speed off, leaving Damian and Alfred alone together. They turned to look at each other for a moment, but looked away again just as quickly.

"Very well then, Master Damian. I'll go upstairs, and you may join me if you please." Alfred spun around and began to march into the elevator. Damian watched silently, not daring to move until Alfred was completely gone.

The minute Alfred had fully exited, he raced towards the exit. He jumped on to his motorcycle, and immediately turned it on. It sputtered out a loud, attention-grabbing vroom, but fortunately, Damian was able to turn up the speed before Alfred came back down.

Whoosh! Alfred came down just quick enough to see a blur zooming out. "Master Damian…?" He called, a worried tone in his voice. He ran over to the batcomputer, quickly turning on the communicator. "Master Bruce, it seems Master Damian has… left."

"Left?" Bruce repeated. The communicator went silent as he processed this information. For the third time that night, he sighed. As thoughts spun in his head, Bruce quickly made a realization. "Damian, do you have your communicator with you?"

Meanwhile, Damian had just jumped off his bike. His boots aimlessly kicked the pebbles in front of him. Suddenly, though, Damian felt a buzz near his waist. His eyes widened abruptly. Sound… or more, his father's voice... was crackling out of it. Panic ran through his head, but he picked up the communicator anyway.

"Damian? Hello? If you respond, I might allow you to continue." Bruce persisted with fishing for Damian's response. Tempted by the thought of being permitted to continue, Damian slowly pressed to unmute himself.

He pulled the communicator up to his mouth. "Father…?" He muttered into it. On a rooftop somewhere else in the city, Bruce snapped back to attention. "I have responded. May I now proceed?" Damian continued.

For the fourth time that day, Bruce sighed. "Fine... but tell the rest of us if you need anything." Him and Damian both muted themselves. Damian smirked, making a small cheering gesture with his arms. Pulling out his grappling hook, he latched it on to a nearby roof. His eyes widened as he stared down at the sparkling lights of the city in awe.

But not everything could go his way. Nearby, Damian heard a soft cackle. It was soft like a whisper, yet clear and coherent. Turning around, he felt his boots clacking underneath him as he ran towards the sound, sword in hand. The maniacal laugh happened again, followed by talking, which unfortunately was too far away to be audible.

"Freeze, criminal peasants!" Damian burst into the door to the building he'd heard the suspicious sounds from, kicking it down with as much force as a 10-year-old could manage. Inside, a criminal and his henchmen were working together to rob the building. The criminal had an eerie mask over his face that looked almost like a light green sack, except with holes for his eyes and mouth. Ropes held the odd fabrics to the villain's face, crossing over his mouth as if they were teeth. On top of his head lay an old, stitch-covered hat, similar to one a witch might wear. Scarecrow, Damian thought.

He ran over to the criminal, swinging his sword nearby. But just as Damian was about to hit Scarecrow, gas swarmed the air. The boy clenched at his throat and nose, instinctively dropping his sword as he did so. The muscles in his limbs tightened, the gas seeping into his body. Damian reached for his gas mask, only to have a wave of nausea stop him before it was too late.

Damian unmuted his communicator "I may… need… just a little bit… of backup." The world flickered in front of his eyes, forcing him to drop his communicator out of confusion. In the distance, he saw the dark, shadowy, figure of a man coming towards him.

"Good luck with that..." He heard Scarecrow whisper, the last bits of reality starting to fade out. In front of him, the only thing he could seem to see (or at least focus on) was the man. As the figure came closer, Damian could see he was wearing an iconic green cape with golden trimmings. Once his face began to show itself, it became obvious who it was. His hair stuck up a bit, the top of it being black, and the side being more of a white or light grey color. Thin beard hair creeped out from the sides of his chin.

"Grandfather?" Damian mumbled. The man nodded, an aggressive frown on his face. Damian reached for his sword again. "What are you doing here? What are you planning?" Ra's seemed content with the idea of just standing there silently, but after a moment, he finally opened his mouth to answer.

"I'm not planning anything, my grandson… my traitorous grandson." Ra's responded, his voice varying in volume as he spoke. Some words were spoken eerily softly, while others boomed into Damian's ears, sounding as startling as hearing a toilet flush in an otherwise silent night. "Plans are for the future. My past, even just my immediate past, holds much more value event-wise."

"What do…. What do you mean?" The boy stuttered, slowly pulling his sword a little higher in front of himself. The sword's smooth yet pointy blade perfectly covered Ra's, hiding him from Damian's vision. But just as he felt a small ting of relief from the illusion of security it gave him, it seemed to become translucent. Damian's eyebrow rose, puzzled at why he could still see Ra's despite the sword seemingly blocking his vision.

Ra's took a step closer. The sudden movement made Damian look up from the sword in surprise. He stared up at Ra's, glaring in anger. Ra's simply smiled menacingly and began to explain. "I have hundreds of assassins, Damian… You know that. It's about time I used my abundance of them to do something productive. So with the family of detectives split into groups out for patrol, I could easily assign a few assassins to deal with each. You don't think I, The Head of the Demon, would've missed such an extraordinary opportunity, do you?"

Damian stumbled backwards fearfully. He looked down at the ground, attempting to deny what he knew Ra's was saying. "You k-" He swallowed back tears. "They're d-"

"Yes, Damian," Ra's made a small motion to Ubu, who ran back to get something. Ubu came back with other assassins, all carrying corpses… corpses of Damian's family. "See for yourself."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the still-unmuted communicator, Bruce was yelling out questions. "Damian? I thought I heard the scarecrow in the background. Is everything alright? Did he intoxicate you? Damian! I can't hear you. Can you hear me?" He kicked a crook's head to the ground before quickly looking at Damian's location. It was way across the city from him. Quickly, Bruce jumped into the batmobile and began his long drive over.

"He got gassed, didn't he?" Tim questioned over the communicators.

"That's what I'm worried about… and from what we could hear, it seems likely." Bruce confirmed, looking down only for a moment before focusing back on driving. He pressed his foot firmly on the pedals, but no matter how fast he went, he knew it would take far too long to get to Damian.

Back on the other side of Gotham, Damian stared at the dead bodies in front of him. Every single one looked pale, not a single bit of life on their faces. He wanted to be with someone, hear a loved one's voice, but every single one of his loved one's in front of him. It was obvious he would never hear their voices again.

Just to be sure, he began to count under his breath, "Father, Grayson…" Everyone in the batfamily was certainly there. But it wasn't just them. "Goliath? Warrior… Mother?" He gritted his teeth even harder. That monster had really gone out of his way to kill every single person Damian cared a smidge about.

Damian turned back towards Ra's, about to make him pay for this, but his eyes glanced back towards his family just won more time. Suddenly, his teeth felt too weak to grit. Everything he loved about every single member of his family seemed to flash through his mind, making him dizzy. They were gone.

Cold sweat rolled down Damian's forehead. His legs felt like sticks as he stumbled on to the ground. The boy attempted to breath, but he stuttered and coughed instead. His head leaned down as he curled up in his cloak, tears streaming down his face. The only noise coming out was soft, miserable, sobs.

"I've taught you better than to be this weak." Ra's stated, frowning at the ball-shaped boy that was in front of him. "Didn't you know this was going to happen? What else did you expect after such a betrayal as your own? I couldn't just allow you to get away with it. Making your life miserable was just what you deserved."

Damian covered his ears, thinking back to the impossibly translucent sword. "This is all just an illusion…" He mumbled. "Just an illusion… Just an illusion…" He attempted to console himself, but felt his breath become even more shaky every time he spoke.

Slowly, though, he got up the courage to uncurl a little. Still moving at a slow speed, he began to turn his head back towards Ra's and the corpse.

"Noooo!" At the sight of his family's dead bodies, he immediately curled back up. Ra's sighed, turning away from Damian in disappointment.

Not far away, Talia had been jumping from rooftop to rooftop, looking for Wayne Manor. After getting a break from her assassins duties, she had immediately decided she wanted to visit Gotham to see her son. Damian's screams startled her, making her immediately head in his direction.

"Damian?" She asked, a worried tone in her voice. After only a moment, she burst into the building. Inside, her eyes darted right towards Scarecrow, who was smiling wickedly at a terrified Damian. She ran over to Scarecrow, throwing him on to the ground with all her might. "STAY. AWAY. FROM. MY. SON!" She shoved her foot up against his face, squishing him on to the floor.

With his head still crammed downwards, she took out her sword and put it up to his neck. "Forget what I just said… I don't think I should even let you have the choice." She carefully moved it even closer to his neck than before, hearing muffled yelps from him in response.

"Pleeeease… don't… hurt… me." Scarecrow managed to gasp out from the awkward position. Now even closer to the neck, she began to put it through. But just as she was doing this, she turned towards Damian. He was still curled up near a corner, sobbing. Knowing Scarecrow was already too scared to harm Damian any more, she ran over to her child.

"Grand… father… I'm sorry." Damian mumbled in between sobs. "I'm.. sorry." His head was curled downwards, not daring to even look up to see whoever had come over to him. Even from a couple feet away, Talia could hear his shaky breath. Even his loud heartbeat was slightly audible. Her mouth partially dropped, her heart breaking at the poor, small, child in front of her.

"Damian…" Slowly, as if to not startle him, she wrapped her arms around him. She carefully weaved them through his cape until they were all the way around. Feeling the warmth of her, Damian leaned closer to her. He hiccuped as he did, tears still rolling down his face.

She gently nudged him to lean on her shoulder, "It's going to be okay… no one can hurt you." Talia moved her hand on to his cheek, gently turning his head to face her. A soft, solemn, smile was now on her face. "I won't let them." Damian looked up to her, still visibly miserable, but at least happy for her comfort.

As soon as she let go, he wilted back down onto her shoulder, cuddling into her arms. She squeezed him tight, the soft smile fading to just a look of concern. Talia bent an elbow to massage and ruffle his hair relaxingly.

"But- but I'm not the one he's going to hurt." Damian whispered fearfully. He attempted to get out from her hugs, not wanting to be seen as weak. "Grandfather's going to hurt Father… and you. And everyone. There's nothing you can do."

"I'm… I'm really sorry, Damian." She whispered back, looking down at him sorrowfully. "Your grandfather is in the past, though. Or at least your time with him. Now that he's away from him, I'll make sure he stays away from you… and the rest of your family. But if it's me you're worried about, just know that he wouldn't dare actually kill me.. And I'd like to believe he wouldn't kill you, either." She turned around slightly and kissed Damian on the forehead.

Damian hiccuped again. Tears rolled down his face even faster than before. Still shaking, he buried his face into her shoulder. Talia rubbed his back, slowly trying to calm the boy down. After a few moments, he began to calm down and sob a little less.

Sighing, Talia wrapped her arms back around Damian firmly. She scooped him up off the ground like you might hold a toddler. His head continued to lean on her shoulder, but now, his body was farther in front of her than before, with her arms carrying it.

Talia continued to rub his back as well as she could, while carrying him outside the building. She pushed his cape around him tighter as a breeze trickled through. Beginning to close his eyes, Damia felt his consciousness drift away. His mother carefully dropped him down onto the ground again once they were outside.

Damian shook himself back to consciousness, "Mother, I'm too old to be carried." He complained, but there was a hint of exhaustion in his voice. It was obvious that after the emotionally-draining hallucinations he just experienced, he wasn't really going to get into a full-on argument.

Talia ignored his complaints, "Are you still seeing the hallucinations?" She asked him worriedly. Damian then realized that his eyes were still partly squinting, so he opened them farther. In front of him, he could still see a blurry vision of Ra's.. and some of the corpses, too. And faintly, he was still sure he could hear his grandfather whisper something menacing.

"A little.. But I… I can handle them." He shook his head again to try to get them to get away. Unfortunately, they only seemed to grow more vivid. Damian's heartbeat thumped, and he momentarily forgot to breath as Ra's started taunting him again.

"Now it's only a matter of time before you make new allies... certainly not ones my army can't defeat, though." Ra's stated matter-of-factorily. Damian made a small yelp, making Talia instinctively wrap her arms back around him.

"I don't think you can…" Talia mumbled, "I'll call up a-" Just as she was about to speak, a car zoomed by. It was mostly black, but with small yellow tints in some places. From inside, a dark figure popped out. She moved herself in front of Damian, but immediately smiled when she was the person's face. "Beloved!"

"Talia?" Bruce's eyes widened at the sight of her.

"You don't happen to have the fear toxin antidote on you, do you?" She asked, getting straight to the point. Talia scouched her son closer to Batman so he could see him better. "Damian got gassed, and he's not doing very well." She laid Damian onto her lap.

"Considering Scarecrow's such a common villain, I always do." Bruce slid down to a kneeling stance. Talia shifted Damian and herself to face Bruce, positioning Damian's arm higher so it was easy to inject into. He pulled out the antidote as quick as he could, and pushed it straight into Damian's arm.

Talia and Bruce both held each of Damian's hands, leading the sleepy boy over to the batmobile. She strapped him in just before Bruce began to drive off. As they rode, Damian's head gently bounced with the car's movements, rocking him to sleep.

When Damian woke up, he was back at the manor, curled up in bed. His mother, father, and siblings (plus Alfred) were all huddled around his bed. He yawned, suddenly turning to see the dogs beside him. Titus and Warrior both reached in to nuzzle Damian. Warrior, being the younger one, playfully bounced on to Damian's lap, meanwhile Titus simply stood at his side, and gave him a soft lick on the cheek.

"You're awake," Everyone responded, not at all in unison. Some said it fast and excitedly, while others said it slow and disappointedly. Either way, Damian was sure that every single person there said it, even if it was in their own odd way. He watched as Alfred set down some cookies and milk in front of him as a comforting treat.

Overwhelmed by the sound, Damian pulled the blankets up over his face. But as the dogs continued to lick at their owner, the blanket didn't stay up for long. Damian sighed, wrapping his arms around the dogs to nudge them under the covers with him. They quickly went under, making Damian hold back smiling from all the warmth it gave him.

"Let's just let him rest…" Talia suggested, standing up. She quickly motioned for the rest to leave the room. They slowly began to do what they were told. Bruce stayed to ruffle Damian's hair, but followed the rest immediately after.

Looking to his side, Damian sighed. Even as they left, he could still hear their rustling. As annoying as they were, they weren't going anywhere any time soon. Yes, his humongous family would stay by his side for a long while… and there was nothing even Ra's could do about it.

[teaspoon-full-of-sugar]

ceraunophilia

pairing: stanley barber x reader (university au)

warnings: cliche kissing in the rain, smut, cursing, it’s pretty vanilla ngl, gets a little angsty in the middle for some reason (because apparently i can’t control myself), comfort :(

word count: 3.4k

synopsis: love is like shelter in a storm: to give you comfort, to keep you warm, and to bring you home

author’s note: this is a university au, so both characters are of legal age, but if you’re still uncomfortable with this, don’t read it :)

anyway, i hope you enjoy! xx all the love

—

Thunderstorms in Pennsylvania are nice. Then again, Y/N has always liked storms. She liked the smell, the sound, the sight; it’s peaceful. It’s like theater, as Stan would say. It’s a slow build with suspense and a climax and an inevitable demise, a modern-day tragedy.

“Looks like it’s gonna rain,” she says, a grin stretching over her features. She’s seated in front of the glass doors that led to his back porch on an old floral sheet, her latest painting drying next to her knees. Stan’s apartment is dimly lit with a cheap lamp, hanging from a chain nailed to the ceiling, and the buzzing lights above the small kitchenette. An incense burns on the coffee table, and next to it is Stan’s tin of joints, one set aside, partially used. It’s that awkward point in the evening, where it’s not really late yet, but it’s not early either. The sky is gray, shrouded with hazy clouds. Sure enough, rain soon falls onto the broken concrete, darkening it.

“Wanna go out?” She asks Stan, eyes pleading.

“In the rain?”

“Not, like, in the rain,” she says as though it was obvious, “Go out and sit on the back porch. Watch the rain.”

“Watch the rain?”

“You’ve never watched the rain?” She gives him an incredulous look, standing while taking his hand. “Well, now we have to watch it.” He grins, stumbling onto his feet. He reaches for his jacket, but she slaps his hand. “No time, Stan, the rain could be over soon. C’mon,” she says, jittery with excitement.

The air outside is cold, scathing and bitter against his uncovered skin. Goose pimples rise on his arms, nose reddening. The wind catches a few droplets, and they seep into his clothes. She sits them down on the bench, still holding his hand, and watches the water drip down from the overflowing gutter and splatter into the concrete, inhaling the fresh scent. A round of thunder rolls in, followed by a flash of lightning, coloring the sky purple momentarily.

He isn’t watching the rain. What is there to watch anyway? He looks at the soft smile painting her features, the look of pure innocence and joy that makes his heart swell. Y/N looks mesmerized, like she’s never seen rain before. Maybe he’s just looking at it the wrong way.

He met Y/N in their first lecture freshman year: 9:15, Calculus with Kessler, and she seemed way too smart to be there, with dozens of highlighters, all organized from warm to cool tones, her book open, and an iced drink placed neatly on the desk. The seat beside hers was the only one available when he showed up, only a couple seconds before the professor shut the door. They paired up for that stupid “getting to know you” part of the first day. He was pleasantly surprised to see the familiar red tint in the whites of her eyes.

He ran into her in the parking lot later that day with a joint held lightly between two fingers. She looked embarrassed after she turned down his offer for a hit and admitted that she only used edibles to help with her anxiety, even though she was quick to tell him that she didn’t get anxious too often. She told him later that she was worried that he might think she was crazy. He just smiled, not knowing how to tell her that he had seen much crazier things.

Stan will proudly admit now that he flirted with her. Granted, his definition is different than most peoples’, but he always tried his hardest to make her laugh, even if it was so early in the morning. She helped him a lot, too, often meeting with him in the library or even at his apartment. He asked her on a date on their last day of class.

Now, it’s summer, and the last thing Stan wanted to do was go back home; Y/N didn’t have much of a homelife either, so she’s been staying with him while the dorms are closed for renovations. It was an odd situation at the beginning. They had only been dating for a few months and moving in together seemed a little fast. However, Stan said that it was no problem, that he loved her company, anyway, so it was just another excuse for him to see her everyday. Y/N was insistent that it was temporary, until she had enough money saved for her own apartment, and that she would pay her fair share of the rent, but Stan didn’t expect her to. Two months in, and they’re still going on strong.

“You know,” he begins, wrapping an arm around her. The metal bench is cold against his back, even through the layers of clothing. “I’ve always wanted to kiss in the rain.”

She whips around to face him, a large cheshire grin on her lips, brow cocking. She doesn’t give him a chance to say anything before she’s tugging him into the rain. It soaks his floral button down, cardigan weighing down and drooping on his shoulders. His hair sinks onto his forehead, bare feet squishing in the fresh mud, but the smile on her face makes it work it. He tips his head back and opens his mouth.

“No,” she says, giggling. “You know how much pollution and stuff that water has been through?” She cups his chin in her hand, fingers squishing his cheeks together, and tugs him toward her.

“You know that’s a myth,” he scoffs. She rolls her eyes.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

She pulls him down by his soaked cardigan, their noses grazing before their lips meet, cold and slippery. Her breaths are warm against his cool skin, and her arms wrap tightly around his middle, slipping under his shirt. He jumps at little at the touch, breaking them apart, and she leans her forehead against his, a frown on her lips.

“That wasn’t as fun as I thought it would be,” she mumbles, pouting. The rain catches on a gust of wind, soaking them even further. Stan jumps, tucking himself closer to her, arms hugging tightly around her shoulders.

“It was really… wet,” he giggles, running his nose along hers, which scrunches in return. His teeth chatter, lips turning blue. She pushes the hair from his forehead, hand surprisingly warm, and he leans into her touch.

“We should go inside before you catch a cold.”

They fumble back inside, soaking the carpet with mud and water.

“Here, let me get you a towel,” he mutters, turning to the closet in the corner of the living room.

“Thanks,” she says, fingers tapping against her leg rhythmically. A rush of confidence suddenly fills her, and she tugs the wet shirt over her head, pants soon following.

“I didn’t know how many you’ll need so—” Stan turns around suddenly, mouth falling open at the sight of her, stripped down to her undergarments and an expectant look in her eyes. “Oh, uh—“ he swallows sharply, towels falling through his fingers. His gaze meets hers, eyes never trailing away, even when she reaches behind her back, bra falling limply to the carpet.

When he doesn’t move, say, or do anything, Y/N begins to feel incredibly self-conscious, arms crossing over her newly exposed chest.

“Stan?” she whispers, but he doesn’t answer, frozen in place. Defeat and embarrassment floods her, warming her skin. She stutters. “Sorry, it was—uh—stupid of me. I shouldn't have... I-I-I—” Her voice breaks as she kneels down to pick her clothes up. A hand stops her, and Stan cups her cheek when she looks fully up.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, a soft smile splitting his features. He holds her hands and guides her back up, facing him. He kisses her, arms wrapped tightly around her waist, finger tips tracing up her spine. Shivers creep over his skin.

Her bare breasts press firmly against him as she shoves the soaked cardigan from his shoulders. They break apart, and he tugs his shirt off, her eyes unabashedly roaming over the newly exposed skin. He pulls her lips back onto his by her neck, thumb nestled beneath the curve of her jaw. She nibbles at his lip, tugging and sucking it into her mouth. His hold on her tightens, heat rushing to his groin.

“Are you sure?”

He’s worried, worried that she’s going to regret it, worried that after everything is done, she’ll leave or go off with someone else, and worried that she’ll realize that she made a mistake with him. Deep down, he knows that she’s not the kind of person. She’s very reserved and doesn’t open up around many people, and it takes a while for her to be comfortable with someone, but there is always this scared and insecure little voice in his head, telling him that he’s not worth it.

“Are you sure?” She asks in reply, a small smirk toying on her lips.

“Yes,” he smiles, thumb caressing her cheek bone.

“Me, too,” she says. “C’mon,” she whispers against his lips, tugging on his hand. He hastily unbuttons his pants, stumbling to his room with wet jeans around his ankles. They collapse onto his bed, and he kicks them off fully, straddling her hips. It’s a mess of heated kisses, delighted laughter, and roaming hands. She clings to him, legs wrapped tightly around his middle with fingers tracing indiscernible designs on his back. Her breath hitches when his lips travel lower, between the valley of her breasts. He notices; of course, he does, light eyes flickering up to catch the nerves passing over her features.

“I’ll be gentle,” he promises, raising his pinkie. A smile rises on her lips, and she links their pinkies together. He nestles into her neck, pressing wet kisses to her hot skin.

Even though they have been together for nearly seven months, they had never made it this far. Y/N made it clear in the beginning that she had never done anything sexual before and wouldn’t unless she felt comfortable, and Stan felt fine with that. He never wanted to pressure her into doing anything, and, honestly, he was fine spending the weekends with her, getting high, watching films, and making out a little.

He was perfectly content with that.

But he would be lying if he said that he isn’t enjoying exploring her body. He loves the feeling of her twitching and pliant to his ministrations. He loves the little gasps and whimpers that fall from her lips when he bites on the skin of her breast. He can feel her heart pick up. Her fingers comb through his hair, tugging and scratching at the curls.

She pulls her legs up, hugging his waist. He can tell that her nerves are starting to get the better of her when he kisses down to her belly. She breathes out sharply through her nose, eyes closed.

“You okay? Do you wanna stop?”

Y/N doesn’t really know how to feel. It isn’t bad or forceful or upsetting; it’s just so new and foreign to her, this love and affection and lust, that she just froze, and, of course her nerves get the better of her, spiking painfully in her chest. It felt nice, but she, somehow, got stuck in her head and ruined everything.

“No,” she says finally, but her voice warbles, tears filling her eyes. She covers her face, but she can hear the sheets rusting quickly and feels his warm grasp on her wrists.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, gently guiding her hands back down. Stan is above her once again, eyes soft and forgiving. She looks ashamed, and his heart aches a little.

“I just—“ A tear slips down her warm cheeks, but he wipes it away with his free hand. Stan has always been nothing but patient with her when she gets stuck, always gentle to coerce her out of an anxiety-induced stupor. He is always so sweet and understanding with her, so deserving of everything the world could offer.

“I think I love you,” she says finally.

He smiles.

“You think?”

“No, I know I do, but,” she stammers, struggling to find her words. “I’m scared.”

“We don’t have to do this, Y/N,” he says.

“I want to, but I didn’t shave, and what if I can’t get wet? That would be so embarrassing, and I have no idea what I’m doing, and what if you think it looks ugly down there?” She rambles.

“I don’t care about that stuff,” he scoffs, holding her hand. They interlock easily, and he strokes her knuckles. “I mean I’m sure you look beautiful… down there no matter what, regardless of whether you shaved or not, and I’m still learning, too, so we can figure each other out. That’s what this is all about, right?”She nods, biting her lip, teeth tugging at the extra skin. She doesn’t respond, eyes trailing nervously over their fingers, which are trembling, knuckles white.

“But that’s not really what you’re afraid of. Is it?” He whispers, and she finally looks at him, eyes teary and insecure.

“What if we do this, and you get tired of me?”

Stan’s gaze softens. He completely understands. Hell, he had the same thoughts, but at some point, you can’t let your insecurities and doubts and panic get in the way of your happiness and chance at love; sometimes, you just have to jump. Despite everything that he has been through, he has learned to be the type to just put his heart out on his sleeve, and no matter how much pain he goes through, he can’t let his past affect his future. Now that he found someone that he can really see a future with, he can’t ruin that.

He doesn’t want her to feel as scared as he used to.

“I’d hate to break it to you, but you’re stuck with me.” He smiles, feeling tears burn in his eyes. “Until you get tired of me, of course, because… I think I love you, too,” he laughs.

“I don’t deserve you,” she says, and he blushes. She grazes a thumb over his heated cheeks, tracing the faint freckles. She pulls him back in for a kiss, and his hands fall to her waist, stroking and caressing the skin. She wraps her arms around him, moving him back on top of her to straddle her leg.

“Are you sure you still wanna do this?” He’s panting heavily, and she breathes out.

“Yes,” she says, more assured than the last time he asked.

“I’ll talk to you the entire time, okay? You gotta tell me what to do because I’ve only done this one other time, and…” He laughs. “Just talk to me, okay?”

“Yeah,” she nods, and his hand trails down to the elastic band of her underwear. Her hips jerk into his touch, a whine slipping past her lips.

“I gotcha,” he whispers as his hand nestles perfectly between her legs. Her eyes flutter closed, feeling his fingers explore her. He rests his forehead against hers, breath warm on her wet lips.

This is all uncharted territory for her. When Y/N was in high school, she was never one to catch the attention of people; she liked to stick to the background and not draw any unwanted attention to herself, and that definitely was the case when it came to dating. She always said that she was too busy, with school or work, to be in a relationship, not that she didn’t yearn for the love and support that came with dating. A small, subconscious part of herself, the part that was nervous and apprehensive and insecure, was also worried about the aftermath of a relationship, the heartache, the rejection, and the loneliness.

Maybe she was just trying to protect herself.

Stan, however, was a surprise.

He came in out of nowhere and swooped her off of her feet. He was everything she hoped for in a relationship: understanding, respectful, and supportive, but he also pushed her to do things she never thought she would do, not necessarily with things that she was uncomfortable with; he would never do that, but he would encourage her to go out, to become less withdrawn, and to help her get past her fears and anxiety.

Honestly, she’s glad that she waited. She’s glad that she’s in Stan’s arms, cherished and safe, rather than someone she met in high school or one of her coworkers. She’s glad that Stan, tentative and generous, is holding her and pleasuring her, tucked away in their apartment.

He spreads her lips, the pad of his finger pressing gently into her tight opening, feeling the arousal slip out. She shivers, and her quivering thighs spread even further. His touch is gentle, careful, almost, but he’s focused, deliberate and attentive, his eyes watchful to any slight changes, in her breathing, her facial expressions, and her movements.

“Tell me what you need,” he says.

“Uh, I don’t know.” He spreads her wetness upward, trying to find that swollen little bead. He rolls her clit between two fingers, and she jerks up, nearly hitting him in the head, a burning, spiking pleasure spread to her toes. “There,” she gasps, and he smiles. Her pussy throbs and tightens, her feet slipping on the sheets. She hums, her hips bucking into his hand. He bites her lip.

“Good girl, so fucking beautiful,” he says to himself, pressing his lips sporadically to her skin, sticky with sweat. He pushes back her flyaways with his free hand, all while rubbing at her clit, his hips grinding against her leg.

It’s messy with inexperience, but she seems to be enjoying it, sweat forming on her hairline, eyes closed. Her thighs twitch around his hand, threatening to close with every flick of his wrist. Pleasure burns through her, throbbing, aching but also sweet, delicious, and addicting. She struggles for breath, toes curled. Her hips jolt upward, a drawn out moan sneaking through her shuddering gasps, chest heaving.

“Stan, I’m—” She whines, nails digging into the comforter, white-knuckled.

“Do what you need to do,” he says, feeling her thighs tremble. “C’mon,” he coos, his fingers slipping faster over her swollen clit, wet and messy. She comes not a moment later with a broken whimper of his name.

They lie there, breathing heavily with the scent of arousal and sweat thick in the air. He leans forward, forehead resting against hers, noses tucked together. She rubs her hands over his waist, caressing the skin. He pulls his hand away from her, fingers tracing over the wet patch on the outside of her panties. Her hips buck, and a soft laugh slips past her swollen lips. She swallows.

“Do you need me to, uh—” She gestures toward his crotch, and he laughs awkwardly.

“No, I’m, uh, good,” he says, blushing. “I’m great.” She giggles and pulls him onto his side. His hair sticks up in all sorts of different directions from her hands running through it, and she smooths some strays back. The rain is still hammering away outside, but they’re safe and warm in each others’ arms.

“Thank you,” she says, nestling her face into his chest, still bare and warm against her skin.

“For what?” He asks. She can feel heat spread from her feet to the tips of her ears. She shrugs.

“I don’t know,” she mumbles. “For being you, I guess.”

Stan’s heart swells at her words. He was always one to take others’ opinions, of him or anything, really, with a grain of salt; it never meant much to him because if he spent too much time dwelling about it, he would drive himself mad, weak and spineless. He never thought much of others’ opinions about him, but having Y/N, the girl who he’s sure he loves, appreciative of who he is, by no other judgement than her experiences alone, is enough to bring tears to his eyes. He doesn’t respond to her, just pulling her closer to him, a large smile on his face with red sprouting beneath freckled cheeks.

—