#But even taking canon at face value I still love them

[cak3iscake]

For ship game; BSS Trio?, Natsunanamiu?

I flipflop a lot on which pairs in Natsunanamiu I actually ship romantically vs platonically but that said I /do/ kind of prefer it as an ot3 over straight up any of the combinations on their own. Nanashi has good chemistry with both of them, and I feel like Miumi brings a certain emotional stability to Natsunana(with Natsukage being more closed off and Nanashi recovering from his own self esteem issues), while Natsukage is a good voice of reason for Nanamiu(sillies). BSS Trio are so messy but they are in love I think.

[killerpancakeburger]

KNIGHT IN SHINING KHAKI

Gif by @bastardcompany

SUMMARY: You've angered the wrong officer. You think you're a goner when Johnny sweeps in to save the day.

PAIRING: Soap x f!Reader ("her" is used to refer to reader once, that's it) (+ Reader's hair is long enough to grab)

TAGS: Civilian!Reader, Depressed!Reader, Insecure!Reader, Angry!Soap, Protective!Soap, GuardDog!Soap, canon violence, hurt/comfort, swearing, blood mention. Ghost makes an appearance as a matchmaker lol. The love is requited they're just insecure idiots. Making Shit Up for the Plot/military inaccuracies.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

A/N: My original prompt for this was: civilian!reader sees Soap in action and gets Horny. No Scared Just Horny.

Then I found out that Soap canonically beat up an officer. I am also obsessed with this video.

Part 1. Part 3.

This is it, you thought to yourself. 

This is how I die.

The day had unfolded like any other. Your shift was over and you were locking up your office, as usual. Your attention was focused on your hands’ motion, your guard dropped, your back exposed.

This explained why, when the stranger grabbed your hair and bashed your head against the door mercilessly, you didn’t see it coming in the slightest. The fact that you had zero combat experience while the person manhandling you was a decorated military officer obviously made matters worse, but at the moment of the assault, you didn’t know that.

The thud of the collision was eclipsed almost immediately by the pain exploding in your face. Half-stunned, all you could comprehend at the moment, every single signal sent by your brain was compacted in one word: suffering. Sharp, all-encompassing. You yelped, your hands vainly pushing against the cold, hard surface to get away.

“I've finally found you, you little snitch. Didn’t think you'd get away with it, now did you?”

Despite the blood thumping in your ears, and how groggy the hit on your head made you, his words reached you perfectly. They were seeping with fury and disdain. His voice didn’t ring a bell, so you tried to turn your head to glimpse him, if only at the corner of your eye, and he granted you some leeway to do so.

Perplexity filled you as you finally caught sight of your aggressor: you've never seen that man before.

“I don't even know who you are,” you winced.

Talking back in your situation would be judged stupid and reckless by a majority of people. Laying low assured more chances to avoid harm.

However most people hadn't been mugged at knifepoint like you had been, and most people valued their lives way more than you did.

Once the confusion and incredulity subsided, the pain still vivid but manageable, you were left with frustration and anger towards your interminable bad luck and the man behind you. His aversion was harder to take seriously when it seemed to have no foundation.

The grip on your hair tightened, making you grit your teeth.

“I'll refresh your memory, then.”

One part of you managed to be pleased to know that this mystery would be solved; the rest was ringing alarm bells when hearing the underlying threats in his tone.

“Weeks ago, you filed a report for embezzlement.”

You frowned, having no recollection of his claims, before a memory emerged. You saw them in flashes: the sudden, abnormally high spendings, the certificates full of anomalies, the incoherent dates; all this lead you to complete a reporting form, just as your job required you to. It was just a formality. You hadn't even even paid attention to the name attached to the expenses, therefore the officer was still anonymous.

Your aggressor scoffs menacingly, easily reading on your face that you remembered.

“They're gonna strip me of my rank and throw me in jail because of you. I'll make you pay even if it’s the last thing I do.”

That last sentence was finished in an almost shout, making you flinch, wishing you could pass through the door.

You quietly resigned yourself to your fate. No one was coming for you. You were no stranger to the inner workings of the military - no one would dare cross an officer that high-ranked for your sake. 

I've lived a good li- well, no. A pretty shitty life, actually. But at least I can say I did the right thing.

Just as you closed your eyes and braced yourself, hoping this wouldn’t drag on, a Scottish-accentuated roar resonated in the empty hall.

“Get yer hands off her-”

You had never heard Soap sound so enraged, nor his pitch so gravelly. Relief flooded through you at the sound of his voice, blended with gratitude. Tears stinged the corners of your eyes.

All of a sudden the unyielding grip on your hair was gone, the sound of something violently hitting the wall punctuating your newfound freedom. 

“-ye fucking bastard!”

You immediately turned around to see what was happening, leaning against the door behind you. Your legs were too shaky to be reliable. The harmed side of your face was throbbing in pain as you took in the scene with wide eyes.

Johnny had pinned the officer against the wall with one forearm across his chest. He dealt him a punch to the face powerful enough that the resulting thud made you grimace, despite not feeling any sympathy for his target.

He managed to administer a second blow before his adversary snapped out of his stupor, and the advantage he gained from taking him by surprise ran its course.

As your assailant defended himself with the strength of someone backed into a corner, you couldn't help but fear for Soap's safety for a moment. Despite knowing that one's rank didn’t reflect their fighting prowess, a rush of anxiety passed through you at the idea that he could lose that confrontation.

Nonetheless, he quickly put your mind at ease as his skills proved to be largely superior. The gap between the two was deep enough that it was obvious even to a neophyte like you.

Paralyzed, you couldn’t do anything but stare at the display of violence with a mix of morbid fascination and sadistic satisfaction. Honestly, if you could borrow Soap's body, you would without a doubt inflict the same treatment on that man. Maybe worse. Fair payback for the threats, the smashing of your face, the probable trauma you'd get from this. Maybe not that fair. But maybe for once you'd stop trying to act like a paragon of virtue.

You should have been scared, you realized. You had never been involved in a fight before. You had never witnessed firsthand the brutality Johnny was capable of, despite being aware of it, between his status as a soldier and the reports you read. The dog tags jingling from his neck and the khaki of his uniform were like so many visual reminders that he was a killing machine. His ferocious wrath, his yelling and his punches should have made you cower in fright.

However the only feeling inhabiting you was safety, as paradoxical as it sounded. Soap was safe, you were convinced of it, consciously or not.

This whole ordeal felt like it lasted an eternity and a minute at the same time. You blinked and out of nowhere, Johnny was straddling the officer on the floor. Blows kept pouring in but they were one-sided - the sergeant had gained the upper hand. The rhythm of his strikes seemed attuned to the beatings of your heart. Each resonated inside of your ears with your skull as their echo chamber. The noise was loud enough to cover your own thoughts.

As you focused on your breathing, you managed to slow down your heartbeats, and the blood-fueled pump between your ribs no longer felt like it could burst out of your chest at any moment. You failed however to contain the tremor in your hands.

You chose to focus on Soap's hands instead. They were soaked red from blood spilled, but not his. Specks of crimson sprinkled his hair, his face, his neck, his t-shirt.

There was a certain sort of lethal beauty to this brutal display that you couldn't help but contemplate in reverent silence: the way his bicep swole when he threw his arm back before hitting his target. The tightening of the muscles beneath the tanned skin of his arms. His icy stare. The harsh line of his jaw. His stern, inflexible expression, one he usually wore in meetings or after Price gave the order to leave.

The expression of someone who would stop at nothing, provided a bleak little voice in the back of your mind. The idea didn’t bother you nearly as much as it should have.

“Not gonna make him stop?”

The familiar grunt of Ghost's voice almost made you jump out of your skin. You pivoted and the behemoth of a lieutenant was there, in casual clothes, right by your side. You had no idea when he arrived or how long he's been standing there, quiet like a shadow.

Something dark flashed in his brown eyes as his gaze lingered on the hurt side of your face.

“Why would I show mercy to someone who would have granted me none?” you scoffed bitterly.

“Someone's bloodthirsty.”

“You're one to talk.”

“Didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

You turned your attention back to Soap and Ghost did the same.

“I doubt he would listen to me.”

“He would,” stated the masked man, with the assertiveness of someone announcing a conviction. 

“But if ya don't believe me…”

A beat, then.

“Oï, Johnny!”

The shout was nonchalant, like it was something he did often, calling off his sergeant from some prey like the Scotsman was his personal attack dog.

The effect was immediate.

Soap abruptly froze, blinking a couple times as if awakening from a trance. Then he perked up, and turned around, eyes searching. The first sound that left his lips was a call of your name. His gaze latched onto you and didn’t let go as he stood up and rushed towards you. The naked vulnerability, the raw openness in his voice and on his face were so earnest that they felt like a Cupid's arrow shot straight between your lungs. It left you devoid of speech and motion, so as Johnny reached for you, all you could do was try to convey your reassurances through your eyes; that you were mostly fine, and so grateful, but worried for him, that he made everything better-

His arms closing around you made the outside disappear, and suddenly the whole world came down to Johnny, and only him. His embrace was enjoyable for a second before the pressure of his body against your face woke up your contusions. You let out a muffled cry of pain and he released you immediately, swearing and apologizing. However his hands didn’t leave you, grasping your shoulders.

“C'mere hen, lemme have a look at ye.”

“Oh, I'm fine, you should worry about-”

Your voice pathetically died in your throat as he cupped your face, leaning over, way too close for your heart to not start stammering uncontrollably.

The combined attention of his fingertips on your skin and the turquoise of his eyes roaming your visage turned your cheeks into a blazing inferno.

Unable to maintain eye contact, your gaze wandered over his own injuries, a split lip and a couple of bruises.

Suddenly he grabbed your chin between his thumb and index, tilting your face one way and the other. Your skin flared up at the contact, pleasant yet nervous tingles scattering all over your body.

“Ye sure he didn’t hit ye on that side? Yer a wee bit red.”

You bit back a whine of complaint at that comment. He couldn’t be that oblivious.

“Yer makin’ it worse, Johnny.” sneaked Ghost, the amusement manifest in his voice - at least to you.

Soap looked up to him, frowning in incomprehension, indignant. 

“The hell ya on aboot L.T.? How am ah makin’ it worse?”

You panicked.

“Shut up Riley!” you hissed, in a desperate attempt to put a stop to his shenanigans, forgetting that you were supposed to be severely intimidated by the masked man.

That drew a gruff chuckle out of him. Your sudden outburst caused Johnny to release you.

“Not that I'm not glad to see you, but why are you two even here, anyway?”

You were kind of proud of your ability to change the subject.

“Was comin’ tae get ye fer a game,” smiled Soap, and it reminded you of a pet proudly presenting its owners with its findings.

“This one wasn’t coming back, and neither of you were answering your phones, so we figured somethin’ went wrong. And we were right. This poor fucker is wanted. Called in reinforcements to deal with him.”

Footsteps’ noises caught your attention. A group of soldiers in uniform seized your aggressor and brought him to his feet, before unceremoniously shoving him in the direction opposite of you.

“Gotta tell Gaz the game ain't happening tonight.”

By the time you took in what Ghost had said, and turned away from the procession, he had already disappeared.

“This isn’t over,” menaced the officer, passing by your spot as he was hauled away. “When I get out-”

“Shut the fuck up,” snarled Soap instantly, protectively positionning himself in front of you.

“Found yourself a faithful guard dog, uh?” the other man taunted.

One one hand, that last remark wasn’t so far from the truth - he had been acting a lot like that: barking threats, baring his teeths, standing between you and the menace, reducing a man to a bloody pulp for hitting you…

But on the other hand, letting that piece of shit talk to Johnny this way was simply out of the question.

Before thinking, you found yourself walking in front of the sergeant and retorting.

“What, jealous he's ten times the man you'll never be?”

Fortunately for you, he was dragged away before he could snap anything back. That didn’t prevent you from regretting your snarky comment immediately. It had been a purely impulsive urge, the kind that could make you feel heavy remorse for days, if not years. As if this seasoned combat expert needed your aid to defend himself. The idea was ludicrous.

You didn’t get a moment to mope around however, as Johnny proceeded to grab you by the hips and press you flush against him with a jubilant smirk. You couldn’t do much except prop yourself with both hands on his pectorals to avoid stumbling.

“My hero.” he praised like a smitten damsel in distress.

“Look who's talking.”

You lowered your gaze despite yourself, mumbling your reply, a half smile on your lips, embarrassed but amused.

“Going after bastards is mah job, not yours. You gutsy little thing.”

You refrained a sarcastic laughter at the nickname - gutsy and little were two things you have never been called, as far as you can remember. But you weren't about to argue with the man who just saved your sorry ass.

His fingers pressed into your flesh, sending tickles at the bottom of your spine.You were about to ask him to let you go, the position too incriminating for this public setting, when you noticed how dilated his pupils were. He had to be high on adrenaline from the fight.

You may have let yourself get lost in the blue pools of his eyes, until his expression turned grave.

“Ye sure yer good? Yer too calm about this. No need tae put oan a brave face fer me, aye?”

The genuine, serious concern in his eyes made the inside of your stomach twist.

“I'm good. You arrived just in time,” you assured.

How peculiar it felt to be the one to comfort Johnny, rather than the opposite; that the lionhearted, superhuman sergeant Mactavish might even need such a thing; that he might require it from you, of all people.

“He didn’t get to do much.”

His pretty features contorted into a scowl at the reminder of your attacker.

“That sonuvabitch… raising a hand on ye in broad fuckin’ daylight… if he ever touches ye again, I swear I’ll…”

As he kept fulminating against your assailant, you couldn’t stop an endeared smile from spreading on your lips. Listening to one of Soap's rants brightened your mood; it was familiar. The sincerity in his words and his tone was welcome. He wasn’t able to fake those emotions even if he wanted to; they spilled out of him like a waterfall. His honest worry and righteous ire towards someone who hurt you was… flattering, in a sense. It made you feel cared for, like you mattered.

Then red started dripping.

“Johnny… your nose is bleeding.”

He wiped it negligently with the back of his hand, only succeeding in smearing it over his face. You couldn’t hold back a snort.

“Bend over. It will stop faster.”

“Buy me dinner first.”

He punctuated his quip with a suggestive wriggle of his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes.

“Let's just go to medical already.” you grumbled, starting to walk decisively, albeit stiffly, in the right direction.

“Aye, aye,” acquiesced your savior, jogging a bit to catch up to you.

[orchidbreezefc]

ok. years have passed and we've had some distance, so i'm finally gonna take the leap of faith that tma fandom is finally ready to hear me on this. let's talk about tannins.

161 was the first tma episode i heard on early release, and i felt the bit where martin declines wine and cites tannins was pretty obvious in its implications. cool, got it, say no more.

imagine my surprise when i was one of maybe three people i saw read between the lines there, in a fandom famous for red stringing--a fandom that immediately caught the much less obvious thread of ignition sources in the same episode. i'll spell it out: alcohol is an issue for martin.

maybe it just felt obvious because addiction is a pet issue for me--as it is for jonny, who has said everything he writes is filtered through a lens of addiction. i don't know if that's due to his own experience or a loved one's, and i won't speculate; i also don't know if martin personally struggled with drinking or just avoids it for fear he would, but alcohol would fit what we know of his family. his dad walking out and his mum spiralling into bitter wallowing and verbal abuse? i'd bet one or both of them drank, yeah.

on a basic level martin tries to decline alcohol, and that alone should have raised eyebrows given what we know of martin and, again, a fandom that dissects everything. we already knew martin "K" blackwood lied about his personal life and his family in particular, especially pre-canon, which is when this flashback took place. i was shocked that everyone took his flimsy excuse at face value with no further questions.

and the excuse is flimsy. martin turns down wine by--nervously--exclaiming tannins are "a proven headache trigger!" which sounds like trivia from a magazine cover and not the words of someone who actually has headaches--and it hasn't come up before or since. jon, confused, points out that tea, a drink martin consumes to a degree that is memetic both in- and out-of-universe, also contains tannins, and martin squawks a panicked, "what?!"

if tannins are enough of a concern for martin that he knew they're in wine and so avoids it, why didn't he know they're in his drink of choice? why does he still drink tea at the time of canon, and why doesn't he struggle with constant headaches from consuming 'a proven headache trigger' day in and day out? why, indeed, would someone avoid wine and not tea?

when sasha insists martin drink he caves and agrees to 'just a drop'. i imagine him pouring it in a plant, which admittedly he could have done if tannins really were the issue. i will say that i, for one, would be less likely to falsely agree to something that makes me physically ill than to a private issue that i'd rather not be pressed on any further. this scene also establishes martin's birthday was an ice cream party instead of the more traditional visit to a pub.

also, this scene was in the first episode of the final season, as one of three flashbacks that could have been to any pre-canon event in the archives. prime narrative real estate. not really time one would waste on establishing the important character context that martin has... headaches. which never comes up before or after, even regarding the week he spent in spiral town. but you know what is pretty crucial character background...?

it felt like a no-brainer, and yet all i saw was h/c fluff about jon attending to martin's headaches. and i hate feeling bitter about disability representation. i want folks with chronic headaches to feel seen and have fluffy escapist fantasies. i don't want to be mad about people portraying a character with a disability. but, guys? you got the wrong disability. jonny sent a clear message, and it went over fandom's head.

[seresinhangmanjake]

The Harkonnen's Claim

Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Reader

Summary: Your brother, Paul, took you from Feyd in a vulnerable moment, and if he wants the woman he loves back, he will have to give your brother something in return.

Notes/Warnings: this is part 2 of 2. Ignore canon ages in the timeline. I don’t know what they are, but everyone young is in their twenties, cool? Cool. Dune inaccuracies. Mention of pregnancy (present) and miscarriage (past). Jessica and Paul kind of (very much) suck. Feyd’s a soft boy for our reader. Smutty-ish (18+) and fluffy stuff, tidbit of angst. I'm sure there are spelling mistakes. I read it twenty times, but you know how it is. I think that’s it.

Words: 3300

Feyd Masterlist Part 1

You can’t see him—your eyelids are too heavy—but he’s shouting. Cursing. With each of his grunts glass shatters and metal clangs against the walls. Feminine voices are shrieking in sync with the rageful sounds coming from your lover and his actions. He is scaring them. He shouldn’t be scaring them. It isn’t their fault. 

“Get out!” he yells. 

More shrieks. Multiple pairs of feet rapidly shuffle about. The door slams and then Feyd is sitting beside you on the bed, one hand brushing your hair back from your forehead, the other rubbing up and down your forearm and pulling it onto his lap. 

“My love…” he says, “It’s ok. You’re ok.”

You swallow hard and peel open your eyelids to see his face hovering above you. A sigh leaves his lips when his eyes connect with yours.

“They were only here to help,” you mutter. 

Feyd bites down hard, sharpening the line of his jaw. He has much to say, you know, but he struggles to release his frustration in any manner other than shouting or fighting in the arena. Right now, he can’t do either.

“They did nothing to help,” he softly snaps. 

But he’s wrong. The women he brought in to examine you did exactly as they were told. It’s just that their conclusion upon taking a look at you was not what he, nor you, expected to hear. 

“Considering the excessive bleeding, she seems to have—” the woman paused; you could hear the tremble in her voice “—lost the baby, my Na-Baron. I’m very sorry.”

Neither of you has spoken about heirs or lineage or combining the genetics of Great Houses. You hadn’t even known of your pregnancy until you heard them tell Feyd that you are no longer carrying the child, and yet, you feel a tremendous loss. You instantly wonder what that child would have been. A boy? A girl? Would they have been a warrior like their father? Or more level-headed like their mother? Maybe a combination of both—that would probably be best for everyone.

“We’ll try again when you feel better,” Feyd tells you, leaning down and pressing his forehead into yours. 

Slowly closing your eyes, you reach a hand up to rest on the back of his neck, your thumb caressing between his ear and the curve of his jaw. “Feyd, we weren’t trying to begin with.”

“Does that mean we shouldn’t?” he asks. “You are meant to be the mother of my heir.”

You sigh. “Feyd–”

“You are,” he demands, but you can detect his hidden plea. “You will be.” 

—

They are scared of him—your son—or, at least, she is. 

With your ear pressed against the door, you can hear them in the halls. Mother and son arguing over your value. 

“Get rid of them, Paul, while you still can,” Lady Jessica implores him. “It’s in our best interest. You have no idea the kind of man she will raise that baby to be.”

But Paul has embraced his new role. There’s no hesitation in how he speaks to her anymore. His words are firm, but well-chosen. He truly was born to be a leader, just not the leader the Universe agreed on.  

“The boy will one day be the Baron, and by then, he will have grown stronger than most, his father included,” Paul confirms. “But we only benefit from having that on our side. From Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s need for my sister, an alliance will be formed that could last decades, maybe centuries. But if you harm her, he will come at us in a way his House never has before. And if he finds out you also took his child from him then he’ll spend the rest of his life hunting you, me, Alia…Chani…your future grandchildren—he won’t stop.”

Paul sighs. You can picture him running his hand through his curly locks. He’s done that ever since he was a child. From the moment his little hand could reach above his head, his fingers would be playing with that hair. His mother scolded him wherever he did it in front of the other families of great Houses. ‘Makes you appear anxious,’ she would say, and no son of hers was permitted to come off as anything but respectable in front of their equals. She knew of the man he would one day become. But her nagging didn’t help him in the end. 

“Paul, listen to m–”

“QUIET,” he commands in the Voice that seems to ripple through the halls. “You act as if I won that duel without effort. As if I could do it again in my sleep. But not only did he survive what should have killed him, he almost killed me,” he reminds her. “So do not let your hatred for my sister lead us down a vulnerable path.”

You pull your ear away from the door. How strange that you always knew she hated you and yet never heard it from anyone’s lips until now. You can’t say it hurts, but it does affirm that the only thing keeping you alive is the one thing you didn’t want to be: Feyd’s weakness. He’s saving you even though you’re out of reach. You and the baby he put inside of you. 

You run your hand over your clothed stomach. There’s no physical evidence of your pregnancy, but now that you know he’s there you can feel him…somehow. You feel his strength. You feel his grit. You feel what Lady Jessica fears, and you love it. You hope she lives in fear for many years, always keeping one eye on the half-Harkonnen child that her son commanded her to spare. 

The doorknob twists and you quickly back away as Paul steps into your bedroom. His brows pinch when he sees how you’re standing in the middle of the room. You’re not resting, you’re not admiring the scenery outside your window, there’s no book in your hand—you look suspicious. You can practically hear his thoughts. What were you doing, sister? 

“It’s time to go,” he tells you, stepping closer. You don’t have a chance to reply before the command “SLEEP” weaves into your brain. Your eyes close. Your body goes limp into your brother’s arms. Your mind shuts down. You’re gone. 

—

It’s bright. The inside of your eyelids are glowing the same orange shade as the flower your father traditionally gifted you on your birthday. It’s brighter than Caladan and Arrakis. A brightness you know only comes from Giedi Prime’s midday sun. 

You're moving but not by your own feet. Your eyelids flutter to adjust to your surroundings, and when they open, you find yourself tucked against a chest. An Atreides soldier, once your father’s, now sworn to serve your brother. 

“Put me down,” you mumble, but he doesn’t. “Put me down!”

“Put her down if she wants to be put down,” Paul says. “She won’t go anywhere. This is exactly where she wants to be.”

You’re set on your feet, but the soldier’s hand wraps around your bicep as the group comes to a halt. You do a quick glance around. Sixteen soldiers, suitably armed and shields activated. More on the ship likely, ready to attack if necessary. One Bene Gesserit bitch. One intended emperor with the skin of your brother. And you, anxiously awaiting him.

“Atreides!”

Feyd steps out of the Harkonnen fortress alone. He walks down the lengthy walkway alone. He has a blade at his hip, a shield, but no soldiers. You know they are somewhere, though, hiding, waiting for his call if needed.

As the distance between you lessens, tears attempt to blur your vision, but you blink them away. Your legs quiver, and you would collapse to your knees if not for the vice grip on your arm. He’s alive. He’s so beautifully alive. He’s broad, and strong, and he’s stomping toward your brother like a predator honing in on its prey. You didn't know for sure what he would look like after near death, and the last two weeks gave your mind the will to run wild, but he's perfect. Like it never happened.

“Paul, you must reconsider,” Lady Jessica whispers from behind him. “We do not need him.”

“I decide who and what we need,” he says. “My sister, my negotiations.”

She tips her head and steps back into place before shooting you a glare that you refuse to acknowledge.

Feyd is closing in, but his next step is deemed too close for Paul. Weapons are drawn. A blade presses into your neck. Feyd pauses. 

“Give me what's mine, Atreides!” he snaps. 

He’s seething and makes no attempt to hide it as he paces along the invisible line your brother has drawn. His brow is low, a shadow over the blue eyes piercing through Paul’s head. He hasn’t looked at you, but you know he won’t. Not directly. He already knows what your brother has over him and there’s no need to remind him by giving in to the internal panic he’s fighting. 

“Yours?” Paul returns. “She’s not yours yet, Harkonnen, so it would be wise of you to cooperate.”

Feyd practically growls, pale lips splitting to reveal black teeth as Paul gestures for you to stand beside him. The soldier shoves you forward and you turn to smack at his wrist. 

“I know how to walk,” you grumble. “Bastard.”

Paul clasps his hands behind his back. “You want her; that is understandable. She wants to be with you, too. You should have seen how she fell apart when she thought you were dead,” your brother taunts. His tongue clicks to make a tsking sound.

Feyd’s fingers twitch at his side, itching to grab the hilt of his knife. You know a layer of red bleeds across his vision. His thoughts are a jumble of demands bouncing around his skull. Kill. Maim. Destroy. Take what’s yours. But he can’t. And, excluding his uncle, Feyd hasn’t ever faced a situation where he can’t do as he pleases with whatever stands in front of him.

“Do not push him too far, Paul,” you mutter in warning. “He's not alone, either.”

Your brother ignores you, voice raising as he says, “And your son? You would like to have him as well, yes?”

The pacing stops. Feyd’s lips softly part. His eyes widen ever so slightly and he finally looks at you. When you lightly nod, his jaw clenches. 

Paul doesn’t miss the silent communication. “So,” he says, lifting his chin a half-inch, “are we calm now?”

Feyd inhales a deep breath and huffs it out through his nose. He does it again and again, chest puffing out then deflating like an animal desperate to strike. ‘Calm’ isn't exactly how you would describe him—good, you expect nothing less—but he’s not displaying the same heightened level of fury.

“What do you want, Atreides?” Feyd grunts.

“Loyalty,” Paul doesn’t hesitate to answer. “You are my cousin. You love my half-sister and the two of you will share a child, assuming you can behave yourself. Family should inherently be loyal to family, I believe. That’s a fair place to start.”

“To start?” Feyd spits. “Do not play with me, cousin. Tell me all that you want from me now.”

Paul’s lips curve in a slight smile. The same modest smile he used when greeting guests of your father’s. You have your own version of that smile. They are smiles capable of hiding secrets. Like the smiles you would give Lady Jessica in front of your father, and the smile Paul gave Princess Irulan when he formally claimed her hand days after the duel.

However, there are no secrets behind the smile this time. He knows exactly what he wants from your lover and takes pleasure in revealing the totality of it.

“This war is just beginning,” Paul tells Feyd. “The other Houses reject my leadership. You will not. You will make a public declaration that the Harkonnens will fight for me, alongside the Fremen,” he says. “If you refuse to fulfill this, I will return with every fighter I have. My sister will be our primary target and you will fail to protect her…again.”

The disrespect lingers in the air. To force a Harkonnen to kneel to an Atreides is a power Feyd once told you only you possess. But it appears Paul has forced an unexpected exception.

“There's nothing for you to debate, I imagine,” Paul says. “Not when it comes to the woman you love and your child.”

Paul gives a winning smirk at your lover’s silence—Feyd’s glare is answer enough. 

With a hand firmly on the center of your back, your brother guides you forward. “Go on,” he instructs. “There's no reason to keep him waiting.”

You turn your head back to Paul, expecting a trick, but when he nods in encouragement you rush over to Feyd in a light jog so as not to get tangled up in the skirts you can’t wait to tear off your body. A pale hand reaches out for you and curls around your waist when you’re close enough to be pulled against his chest. A kiss lands on your hairline before his forehead falls to rest on yours. 

“You're not hurt?” he asks. 

“I'm fine,” you promise him. 

“This will never have to become complex, Harkonnen,” Paul calls from his side. Your heads raise to look at him. “Your House now fights for mine. If loyalty is upheld, personal lines will not be crossed. In other words, your child and woman are safe from me as long as my empress, concubine, and children are safe from you.”

Feyd’s Adam’s apple bobs harshly with his hard swallow; another practice in tamping down his rage.

“I’m glad we can all walk away from this satisfied,” Paul continues, grinning ear to ear. “Except for my mother, of course. Were she given her way, my sister would be cut open on the floor and her womb ripped out of her. She doesn’t believe a Harkonnen can exercise restraint and respect agreements. I’m sure you’ll prove her wrong.”

Your dress tightens at your waist from Feyd’s fingers fisting into the material. “Keep your head,” you gently whisper. “Let him go.”

“You have three days to officially announce your allegiance,” Paul tells the two of you before turning to his ship. He enters first, followed by his mother who gives you a final look of disapproval, and then, two-by-two, his soldiers. Not until they’re a speck in the sky does Feyd place a hand on your cheek, guide your face to his, and seal his lips to yours. 

—

He intends to burn the dress to ash in the built-in incinerator that the Harkonnens consider a fireplace. Before now, you haven’t seen it demonstrate its purpose. Feyd refused. “We do not need that,” he would tell you, somewhat offended when you would request a bit more warmth in the middle of the night while he was next to you. He’d strip himself of any clothing he might’ve been wearing and tuck you into his side. “See? You’re fine now.”

Tonight, however, he’s quick to turn the thing on and let it heat up as he takes his knife to the back of your gown, slicing through the buttons that trace along your spine until the material slips off your body. He helps you out of the ring of destroyed fabric at your feet before wadding it into a ball and tossing it into the flames. 

Feyd hums, satisfied, then piece by piece the armor falls from his form until he’s bare with his body to yours, his lips sucking and nibbling, fingers kneading and exploring, cock easing in and out of your core. You cry as he bites into your neck, and soak in the moment for what it is compared to what it could have been had he not survived. How alone you would be. How distraught over what would become of you.

But he did survive. He’s here. You have him. His lips and teeth and touch and cock and heart—all yours. You have the warmth of his breath that brushes your face and neck and shoulders. You have his groans and moans; the perfect sounds he makes when he first enters you and when he cums. Everything you thought you’d lost is wrapped tightly in your arms. Safe. Protected.

He finishes inside of you twice, and as he begs for one more, the ache between your thighs tempts you to remind him he already got you pregnant. But when you study the tenderness in his eyes, your desire refreshes, the pain washes away, and you can’t get enough. You take until he can no longer give—when all he has the energy for is holding and kissing. 

Feyd leans over you in the bed, your legs intertwined under the sheets and his hand at the back of your head as his mouth moves with yours. 

“W-Wait,” you say between kisses. He hums against your lips and when you tilt your head back, he makes a noise of protest before joining them again. “I-I’m ser-ious.”

With his brow pinched, he pulls back to stare into your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth as you search for a delicate way to question the effectiveness of his new authority. “Feyd, what’s going to happen? What will everyone think?” you ask. “Your people? Your soldiers?”

“That’s what bothers you right now while in this bed with me?” You nod. He sighs. “I observed my uncle in his time as Baron. I’m capable of explaining these changes in a manner that will have them think nothing of it. Should an outlier take issue, they will face the known consequences. The rest will do as I command,” he says, emphasizing his words with another kiss. “Just as they will do as you command and as our son will one day command.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be silly. No one on Giedi Prime will listen to me,” you tell him. “My voice doesn’t mean anything to them.”

“They'll respect the voice of their Baroness.” 

Your brows raise. “Your wife?”

Feyd smirks and dips his head into the curve of your neck to lick and suck at sensitive skin. “Do you have objections, my love?”

It would be a lie to say you haven’t imagined being Feyd’s wife. It didn’t occupy your every thought, but it crossed your mind. Like when he would pluck out the eyes of the men who leered at you or remove the tongues of those who scoffed when you spoke. Or when you would watch him sleep and his face was unable to maintain the hard, stony stare that he brought back with him after dealing with his uncle. He’d be serene, the epitome of peace, and it was so lovely that sometimes you couldn’t help yourself. You would kiss his puffy lips until he woke to reciprocate, which led to him spreading your legs wide and stuffing his hard column of flesh between your folds. His ability to be gentle in his cruel world was how you knew he would be a good husband—to you, anyway. You have no idea the fate of his marriage were there a different bride.

His tongue runs over the bite mark and you gasp. “N-No.”

Lips trail along your jawline as his hand slides from the base of your neck between the valley of your breasts to settle on your stomach. 

“He'll be strong,” Feyd says, looking at you. “Our boy.”

You chuckle. “Stronger than you, I heard.”

Feyd swallows, then nods in acceptance. “Good. He’ll need to be,” he says, thumb stroking just above your navel. “The only Atreides my son will answer to is his mother.”

A/N: i'd be open to doing future fics for them if anyone is interested. you can send in requests if you want, no pressure. I have a different feyd fic in the works atm as well

@unicoreads @haehwasworld @moonsoulk @lothiriel9 @landlockedmermaid77 @vintageroses10 @mamawiggers1980 @mrsjobarnes @aoi-targaryen @buckysteveloki-me @pao-prazz @skel-skell @barnes70stark @pekusofixus @vanilla88 @niragiswhore @benwishaw

[gaywineauntsstuff]

See one of my favorite things about fanon is that Dick is like a normal dude outside of nightwing like genuinely he’s normal person who isn’t that extreme canonically. He loves his family but he needs space with them and doesn’t want to be a carbon copy of his father.

He follows Bruce is moral compass while also being more lenient on some crimes. He canonically values life and protecting the sanctity over it than actually stopping crime and has a very strong moral compass that exceeds “well it’s the law”. Dick canonically thinks that Corrupt police officials are worse than criminals and became a cop to weed them out the same way he did the mob. And has bad blood with the BPD despite working for them.

He has genuine reservations about trusting Jason for obvious reasons even if you don’t like Dicks run as Batman where Jason was flat out the worst or like stealing the Nightwing suit in New York in brothers and blood. While still being able to work with and like him.

He is supportive of Tim while still being frustrated at taking on more work bc he knows Tim does too much and will need help.

He loves Damian but steps away from that relationship because unlike Bruce at his age he’s emotionally mature enough to realize he cannot be a parent for the kid. A role model sure! A big sibling, yeah. But not a parent.

He didn’t want Steph as spoiler, Robin or batgirl bc she wasn’t well trained but neither did literally anyone else. Once she and him started working together they had a decent relationship.

Dick and Cass have a strong relationship and he helped Babs with her when Bruce was being an asshole while still not stepping into a parent role bc he’s in his mid 20s and not going to do that actually.

And Dick believes Duke is going to become a big leader in the hero world and sees his potential despite not agreeing with the we are Robin thing.

And the fanon goes 1 of 3 ways

he’s fully uninvolved, doesn’t like the bats, has cut them off after trying to send Tim to Arkham, and abusing/ mistreating or co-signing the mistreatment of Jason. All his relationships with everyone except Damian have been erased. He ruined Tim’s trust, hated young!jason, has never spoken to Steph or duke and Cass doesn’t like him because she’s on babs side or in Hong Kong.

Or

Literally Bruce Wayne’s lapdog, says yes to everything with the worst case of battered women’s syndrome you’ve ever seen. Jason must stand up for him and protect him from the big bad bat/ the bats cut him off aswell after abandoning the bat movement (more rare but I’ve seen it). He doesn’t have critical thinking and his morals are identical to Batman’s and he refuses to question them. Will call the police on a homeless man stealing food bc it’s illegal. And has never tried to rehabilitate anyone including his friends, abandoned Roy and Kory bc of moral differences. He’s still a cop and doesn’t understand the nuance that Jason, Tim, Steph and Duke do.

Or

Dumb himbo, doesn’t know nothing except smile and nod. Pretty face, no brain. Has had one thought and it’s the fact he misses his siblings and needs his cereal oh wait was that two thoughts? He forgot how to count lmao. Babs or Tim will roll their eyes and do stuff for him bc he’s so dumb and sweet like a puppy who has had a lobotomy. :( doesn’t even have a college degree dumb silly teehee. Worst liar you’ve ever met everyone can see right through him hehe. He’s loves Bruce and calls him Dad 24/7 and uses nicknames for everyone.

And like it’s total flanderization

He has some of these traits sure, (more rigid moral compass, more willing to work with other heroes and delegate though this one literally only became a thing during Tom kings run and maybe a little bit after Donna died, in the current canon he went to Uni for business and dropped out, he’s not as good on the tech side as oracle)

But they’re just so exaggerated and I firmly believe it’s bc the rest of the bats are so extra. Like Tim trying to clone his dead bestie 99 times.

Jason goodness gracious I’ve been bamboozled let me try and kill the penguin on live tv

Damian my mother literally tore my spine out

. Duke let’s start a cult that’s something that isn’t dumb and won’t get us murdered.

And Dick is just there like… yeah fuck okay.

Like he’s still unhinged even for a superhero but he’s just objectively more hinged than all of his siblings like you’re telling me if TIM got the talon ancestry storyline shit wouldn’t have hit the fan??? The mother fucker who at age like 13 broke in Nightwing and starfire’s house, memorized all their schedules bc he’s the most insane stalker you’ve ever met. You’re lying and we both know it.

And everyone thinks their fave is the sane won and you are all just wrong I fear. I have already slandered Tim so I’ll do the rest for funsies

“Oh babs is the only sane one”

Bby Barbara is such a stalker with a need for control someone stole her tech and turned Gotham into a police state. If she decided that she wanted to go dictator she has a WHOLE setup for it. She’s also unhinged

“Jason just needs to get away from the bats then he’s the only sane one who the others go to for protection”

Yall Jason’s 2 biggest teams were

An Amazon, and a kryptonian

An arrow and an alien (also some times an Amazon)

So the league big three knock off and a titans knock off

He has also slept with his dad’s ex and 2 of his brother’s exes. Let’s not pretend that he’s being dragged back into the bat family, bro never left.

He wears a bat on his chest

He has a helmet with explosives in it… when he died in an explosion and fought with a crowbar when it was one of the major reasons he died. Let’s not talk about his whole thing with scarlet but the Morrison run had some weird characterization.

“Damian-“ no actually you can’t even start with Mr let’s go to Lazarus island. Let me adopt a giant bat monster bc my abusive childhood means I slaughtered his entire race. No actually I will not allow it. The fucker is unhinged and I love him.

“Steph” - you know what she is also my fave so everything she has ever done is justified and she has the best batgirl run and also her and Damian are hilarious. (She’s also the best female bat hands down I prefer her to both Cass and Babs for so many reasons I will not get into)

In summary this isn’t actually a criticism I find it hilarious plz keep going my darling fanon fanfic writers

[meanbossart]

What are your thoughts/takes on Astarion's relationship with sex? How does that reflect on his relationship with Drow?

(Obvious disclaimer: this is just my opinion, and my goal is always to entertain myself - never to argue or be the most correct about canon interpretations or themes.)

Hm. So, something that I find very unique (and frankly, overlooked!) about Astarion's previews experiences, is that when speaking specifically about his M.O for luring marks for Cazador the majority of the encounters he seems to have had were not, primarily, "negative".

They weren't positive either, of course. There is no way around it: having sex against your will is rape. But in his case, the perpetrator was never inside the room. From the way he speaks of the people he slept with, he seems to hold a mixture of contempt and pity; but never anger; from the way he speaks of and with Sebastian, it even seems like, sometimes, perhaps in the early days of those 200 years he might have even allowed himself to indulge in small, brief attachments and hopes. Then, as fatigue settled in and the permanence of the situation hit him, I'm sure the motions became mechanized at best and agonizing at worst.

But I think whatever harm the experience has done to his sexuality or self-value, it's damage struck him tenfold in the concept of object permanence. Imagine it: throughout the course of two centuries, you are not allowed to form a connection with a single person who isn't damned to die later the same day. You never see the same face twice. You are never allowed to progress past impersonal first encounters. Astarion says he wants to be seen and known, but a reality that hurts almost more than being invisible is that there were probably thousands of people who would have loved to do that. But you ruined them as much as they ruined you.

I wholeheartedly believe that he was sick of sex, and that for decades to come there will be times when he still turns the lights off during the act, or, ideally, just says No Thank You and moves on, but the hypothetical that really haunts me is that other thing: the almost pavlovian association between sex and looming demise. That people are going to be taken away from you, so why bother being present?

This is a feeling he struggles with sorting through and vocalizing. And in turn, DU Drow often is under the assumption that this is all about sex, and about whether he truly wants it or not. This is yet another small theme in A Novel Experience but, in summary, for a while he still doubts Astarion's own agency to initiate or participate in it - this reduction of the issue as a matter of physical touch, while the big picture is much more complex.

And this does not always externalize in the far more palatably tragic "woe is me, everyone I love leaves" way. Sometimes Astarion still catches himself thinking of the ones he loves as disposable, and acting with due disregard for their lives like it's second nature.

But back on subject: he can have, does have, and likes sex. By finally being allowed to form a friendship and rapport with a sexual partner for whom he does not feel the need to perform to, he can finally enjoy the silly, the awkward, the gross and even the subpar aspects of sex with true intimacy; the anxiety sets after the fact, as he wonders about what comes next once you're out of his sight.

[lovesickeros]

zhongli and neuvillette fighting over their reader 🤭🤭

scary dog privilege wherever you go, draconic courting gestures that would scare any regular person, they send each other deadly glares the moment you turn away,

stealing your clothes to just get a whiff of your scent, marking their territory all over your house - making it a battlefield basically, neuvillette (in my hc) is cooler and zhongli is warm so the cuddles are always so comfy ☺️😍,

they give you anything you want - you don't even have to lift a finger, they make you travel between the nations a lot though 😒 sooo clingyyy, extra gentle in their dragon forms as to not squish you, don't even get me started on the size difference 😍😍

just a little thought 🤭☺️

- 🐈‍⬛

Neuvi being colder is so real and canon. I see him as being colder + a lot more lithe, kinda lanky with smaller but sharper canines versus Zhongli who's warmer and a bit shorter then Neuvi + bulkier with bigger but not as sharp canines.

They've also got very different habits – Zhongli is very prideful not just of himself but his nation. He'll personally give your a tour and purposely drag it out as long as he can. Complimenting Liyue is basically complimenting him, checkmate Neuvi. Especially if he convinces you to try on some local Liyue fashion. Harmless and just a nice gift to anyone else but Neuvi sees it for what it is (since your wearing something from Liyue, technically wearing something of his. He loves his technicalities when it comes to staking a claim over you). Adds salt to the wound by touching you in totally innocent ways like to adjust you towards something he wants to show you or accidently brushing against you when he takes the bags of spoils he's practically drowning you in but really he's just making sure his scent sticks. He's just a sweet, nice gentleman with absolutely no ulterior motives trust.

Neuvillette does love Fontaine, but his habits are more about himself then the nation. He'll take you around if you ask or if the idea strikes him, but you'll probably stay around the making city area or the opera house specifically. He enjoys more personal time with just you and him then anything else. He values the immaterial to the material. Zhongli spoils you with gifts, but Neuvi tries to offer quality time irregardless of physical gifts (though he still gives them just not to the extent of Zhongli). He'll take you to see different operas if that's to your fancy, or leverage a bit of his authority to maybe see a few films since those seem to be hitting off in Fontaine recently. Bet that creaky old archon doesn't have those huh. He feels awkward if you want to watch a trial, but he'll reluctantly agree because. well. it's you. just don't wave or anything he's trying to work and he just Really wants to see you smile at him like that again and it makes him lose his train of thought. gets custom clothes designed by Chiori to replace your clothes from Liyue because they smell of Zhongli and it makes him sulky + he likes to match.

G-d forbid these two are in the same room as you because it's a war of attrition at that point. Constant accidental brush of the hand against your shoulder or elbow but it's just them trying to get rid of the others scent. they are side eyeing each other behind your back while being all smiles whenever your looking. If it's hot and you lean into Neuvi more he's practically GLOWING. not even smug he's just absolutely smitten and happy to be of service. immediately takes off his gloves and presses his hands to your face asking if your okay and if you want to go back with him. if it's cold out and you seek out Zhongli more hes smug as hell beneath the calm veneer. Offers you his coat and stay as physically close to you as he can under the pretense of being worried you'll catch a cold if he doesn't warm you up.

don't even get me started on your house either because you probably have tons of gifts from both of them accumulated everywhere. if Neuvi sees you use a tea set from Zhongli suddenly he had a fantastic gift idea he thought you'd like. he even got some tea included with it so why don't you let him make you some? Zhongli sees you using a goblet Neuvi gave you (totally a coincidence it's similar to his) and suddenly you have 27 square cups in your cabinets that you have no idea where they came from. if the goblet is mysteriously missing oh well. who knows :]

[girlkisser13]

being married to toji fushiguro would include

• toji is fiercely protective of you, even if he doesn’t always express it. he doesn’t hover or ask if you’re okay every five minutes, but he notices when something’s off and is always there to back you up.

• he doesn’t say "i love you" often, but his actions speak louder than words— shielding you from harm or making sure you’re always safe, especially when the dangers of his life as a former assassin creep in. still, he’d maintain his space, valuing his independence but always watching out for you.

• he’s the kind of guy who doesn’t put up with nonsense, so when it comes to household matters, he’s straightforward.

• if there’s a problem, he deals with it quickly, often in a practical manner. that said, he’d also likely appreciate the quiet comfort of being at home with you, especially after a long day of dealing with the outside world.

• while toji doesn’t come across as soft, there are moments when he shows his care in small ways— maybe brushing your hair out of your face or sharing a fleeting but tender look when you’re alone.

• he’s not one for big romantic gestures, but when he does something for you, it’s meaningful, like getting you your favorite drink or taking care of things when you’re overwhelmed.

• he may not always have a lot to say, but if you’re going through something difficult, toji is there for you. he’d stay silent, listening without judgment, and give you a quiet, reassuring presence.

• his support might not be verbal, but his actions would show that he’s there for the long haul, no matter what.

• if you two had kids, toji would be a hands-on (we are ignoring the fact that he is canonically an absent father), though unconventional, father.

• he’ll play it cool, acting like he’s not that interested, but you’ll catch him watching baby videos on his phone when he thinks you’re not looking.

• he’d teach them about survival, how to fight, and how to protect what’s theirs, all while being the solid, reliable figure they need, even if he doesn’t know how to express it all the time.

• toji’s not great with emotions, but he’ll secretly adore his kids, and you’ll know it by the way he keeps an eye on them from a distance or his subtle ways of making sure they have what they need, even when he won’t say it out loud.

• the trust between you two would be solid. toji would expect you to be honest with him, and he’d give you the same respect. you wouldn’t need to speak all the time to understand each other; there’d be a deep, unspoken connection, even in the moments of silence.

• don’t expect anything overly sweet or cheesy. toji’s idea of romance might involve getting you something practical, like new clothes for a dangerous mission or fixing something around the house.

• but those small acts of care would mean more to you than any grand gesture.

• life with toji is a rollercoaster of questionable financial choices.

• his idea of a budget is more of a vague suggestion. you could go to bed with a full savings account, and by morning, he’s bought a motorcycle, a new set of knives (because he deserves them), and a ridiculously expensive set of rare steaks— because, apparently, that’s how you live life.

• he will ALWAYS justify impulse buys with, "it was on sale."

• toji is very independent, and while he might not ask for help, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t need it. if something breaks or goes wrong around the house, he’ll absolutely try to fix it himself first— no matter how unqualified he is for the job.

• broken sink? he’ll attempt to fix it with duct tape and some questionable youtube tutorials. the worst part? he’s usually successful… in a very "that’ll work for now" way.

• he doesn’t exactly plan grand romantic gestures, but when he does do something sweet, it’s always unexpected.

• like that time he brought home your favorite food when you didn’t ask for it, or when you were having a rough day, and he somehow found the exact book you were looking for, even though you didn’t mention it. it’s not always flashy, but it’s the little things that show he’s paying attention.

• also, this man is WAYY too confident.

• he’s usually pretty calm, but when he’s certain about something— whether it’s a decision, a plan, or a random idea— good luck trying to change his mind.

• he’ll insist he’s right, even if he’s 99% sure he’s not, and he’ll have a smug look on his face while doing it. it’s an annoying habit, but somehow, he pulls it off.

• toji’s idea of date night involves grabbing takeout and binge-watching random action movies, preferably while he’s armed with snacks he’s "borrowed" from the convenience store.

• he’s surprisingly a pretty good cook (when he takes his time).

• it’s usually something straightforward— steak, grilled chicken, or ramen— but when he actually tries, it’s surprisingly tasty. the best part? he’ll act like it’s no big deal, even though you know he’s secretly proud of himself for not burning anything.

• toji is your scary dog privilege.

• he exudes an aura of danger, which makes you feel untouchable. not that he tries to look intimidating, but it’s hard not to notice when people start treating you both with a certain amount of caution just because he’s around.

• whether it’s the way he moves, the way he talks, or just the fact that people know better than to cross him, you’ll get used to the unspoken respect (or fear) that follows him.

• he’s not the type to smother you with affection, but he has his ways of showing he cares. whether it’s leaving a random "you good?" text, adjusting your coat when he notices you’re cold, or letting you take the last slice of pizza (even though he’s definitely eyeing it).

• while toji is pretty sharp when it comes to violence or strategy, he’s totally lost when it comes to social situations or subtle hints.

• you’ll find yourself frequently having to explain things multiple times because he either didn’t catch your tone or completely misinterpreted the situation.

• if you try to drop hints, he’ll stare at you blankly, and then you’ll have to go into full detail before he understands what you’re saying. it’s frustrating, but also kind of endearing, considering how smart he is in other areas.

• although he’ll never openly say it, in those quiet moments when he watches you sleep or shares a rare smile, you know you’re his soft spot. toji fushiguro has made you his world, and his devotion to you speaks louder than words ever could. <33

[beifong-brainrot]

I do find it annoying how a lot of Zutara fans tweak the character's stories, personalities and even the timelines to suit their own needs.

Once again, there's nothing wrong with fanon and headcanons, however if looking through the lense of canon, you're objectively wrong.

I ended up stumbling on a post from a Zutara shipper. (At this point I'm regretfully considering not following the tags for Zuko or Katara because I get way too much Zutara content lol) I'm not replying directly to her because I don't want this to turn into an argument, and I know she doesn't take criticism very well.

Ok, So let's break this down.

The character who was first out of the group to trust Zuko?

I'm quite sure this is referring to the scene in Ba Sing Se's caves. And yes, that is a very important scene. I think it's a very important scene preceeding Zuko's 'relapse'. It shows how he's matured during his time in Ba Sing Se and therefore it serves to add to our dismay when he joins Azula. I adore the fact that Zuko's journey to redemption is not linear, it certainly adds a lot to the character and shows us how his trauma affected him.

It's also a horrific moment for Katara. To have her worldview on Zuko and firebenders as a whole challenged, and then for it to go blowing up in her face. It rips open old wounds of her childhood. It refreshes her resentment of Zuko and the Fire Nation as a whole. It parallels the death of her mother when Aang dies due to Azula's lighting and she is unable to do anything about it. It places her back in that spot of helplessness. Even though she's grown up, even though she's a master waterbender, she still comes a hair's breadth to losing one of the most important people in her life.

No wonder she hated Zuko so much after this.

It's an important moment for both characters, but I wouldn't say it is that in a romantic sense. It's a sweet, hopeful moment that then turns absolutely horrific and visceral for both parties.

I could argue that there are other characters who could be given the title of 'first to trust Zuko'. Funnily, Appa being one of them lol.

But other characters trusting Zuko dovetails nicely into the next point.

The character who emotionally connects to Zuko?

Well, technically, I'd argue that most members of the Gaang connect emotionally on one level or another with him?

But I'd argue that Aang is the person Zuko connected with the most. Aang is Zuko's parallel. Aang is the first person to reach out to Zuko. Aang is the person who showed mercy to Zuko, multiple times. Aang is the person who valued Zuko's life, the life of someone whose whole life goal is to capture him.

This was also an incredibly important moment to Zuko. This is the thing he brings up when trying to convince the Gaang to let him join.

Zuko: Why aren't you saying anything? You once said you thought we could be friends. You know I have good in me.

The character Zuko feels safest letting his guard down around?

It's Mai. Love her or hate her, her relationship with Zuko is incredibly important to him. Maiko isn't my favourite Zuko ship, in full honesty. But even platonically, Mai and Zuko are one another's reprieve from their respective shitty lives.

People often talk about Katara touching Zuko's scar while discussing healing his scar, however one could argue that she did so as a medical examination. Mai touching Zuko's scar is a casual thing, neither of them really make a big deal of it and that's the beauty of it.

I'm mainly talking out of my own personal experience, as someone with a huge amount of burn scars, but there is a world of difference between someone inspecting my scars like Katara did and simply accepting them as a part of me, like Mai does for Zuko.

With Mai, Zuko isn't the scarred banished prince, Ozai's son or Azula's brother. He's just Zuko. And they speak freely with one another, arguing like real people do. Often, being comfortable having arguments is actually a sign of being comfortable with one another.

The character who helps Zuko heal from his trauma?

Once again, this is a bit of a flawed question. By the end of the show, Zuko isn't even fully healed, in my opinion. He has made leaps and bounds on the road to recovery, but when he will truly heal if ever is yet to be seen.

Zuko's journey to recovery includes plenty of people. This includes Iroh, Aang, Song and Jin. People who show him the error of his coping mechanism. Who challenge his worldview, who coax him out of the his shell of pain and anger.

The character known for showing most compassion to others?

Yes, Katara's compassion is a huge part of her character. Her need to help and protect those who cannot do that for themselves cannot be understated.

But Aang's compassion for others and all beings is just as great, if not greater than Katara's. Compassion and nonviolence are huge parts of his culture and his own philosophy.

Aang: Wait, we can't just leave him here. Sokka: Sure we can. Let's go. Aang :No, if we leave him he'll die. Aang airbends himself off Appa and retrieves Zuko, bringing him to Appa. Sokka: [Sarcastically.] Yeah, this makes a lot of sense. Let's bring the guy who's constantly trying to kill us.

Friendly reminder that Aang could've absolutely wrecked Ozai, but held back because his own moral compass was so powerful. Hell, he was friendly and nice to Azula, the woman who literally killed him.

This is why Aang and Katara work so well together. They're both incredibly compassionate people who will immediately jump in to help others in need. Like they did during the Painted Lady, destroying the factiry together.

The character who primarily bears the burden of having to step up into a parental role?

I think "parental role" is an incredibly vague term. There's a lot of things that go into a "parental role". Katara plays a stereotypically "maternal" role, while someone who plays a "paternal" one would probably be Sokka.

Katara deals with very "homemaking" tasks like sewing and cooking, etc. And Sokka often takes on the role of leader, hunter, gatherer and also protector, despite being a nonbender.

This coincides nicely with their core childhood traumas. The loss of Katara's mother impacted her greatly, leading her to have to step up into a motherly role. While Sokka was clearly heavily traumatised by his father departing and the crushing responsibility of having to care for his entire village.

Sexism also probably played a part in this dichotomy.

The character who represses their emotions to be strong for others?

I'd argue that this could apply to all the members of the Gaang in some capacity.

Aang's pain is something most of us will never experience and cannot hope to understand. The complete horrific destruction of his culture and home followed him through the entire show. He was entitled to his grief and rage, yet he supressed it. We see during Appa's kidnapping, how easy it would be for Aang to rage, to let himself be destructive. And yet, he wakes up every day and chooses to smile and goof off, because his friends need someone to remind them how to be children.

Sokka puts on a very impressive bravado, despite having a lot of insecurities. However, as the oldest member of the Gaang (pre Zuko) he puts on a facade of the confident and unbothered older brother. Even if he's the butt of almost every joke, he still keeps that demeanour up, letting it slip only a few times.

I'd actually argue that Toph is the person whom this label fits best. While we know Toph as witty, callous and strong, we have to remember that she kept up the facade of her parents' good, helpless little blind girl for no reason other than her mother and father's comfort. She actually hides a lot of her hurt, covering it up with a prickly exterior.

I want to do longer think pieces about Toph and Katara so apologies if this isn't complete.

I'm actually baffled by the idea of Katara repressing her emotions. She's actually quite straightforward and open about her feelings. She yells and feels a lot of emotions and lets them be heard. She gets angry and sad. She's actually kinda bitchy sometimes and that's honestly why I love her so much.

The whole inciting incident of the show was her getting so pissed off she somehow pulls a giant iceberg from the bottom of the sea.

She is anything but repressed.

She is angry.

She's angry at the fire nation, at Sokka, at her father, at men, and with good right to be so.

This is what makes her an amazing character and one who broke the mould of a lot of female characters at the time. Her anger and unrestrained emotions rang true with a lot of watchers at the time. I'm not sure why this is being taken away from her rather than celebrated.

I reiterate the point I made at the beginning of this post: there is nothing wrong with headcanons and fanon interpretations for one's enjoyment. I do find it a bit odd when it changes a character too much (because then, why not just create an oc?) but it's all in good fun. However, you shouldn't push that onto other people and how they perceive canon and you certainly shouldn't use it to take away from other characters. It's a very unfair way of entering discourse.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

It's So Simple - No Love Lost Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist

Read on A03!

Author's Note: Help I’m putting plot relevant info in the one-shots. Title from So It Goes... by Taylor Swift.

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary/Warnings: You make Ben do icebreakers. He's a little bitch about it. Takes place in Chapter 14. Just straight fluff. Tooth-rooting fluff. It's a little horny, but mostly sweet.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, fluff

You drop across from Ben as he eats, fingers tapping on the table as he looks up at you with a frown.

“What’s wrong with you.”

“Nothing,” you shrug, giving him a small smile. “Eat your sandwich.”

Ben narrows his eyes at you, voice becoming muffled as he takes another bite. “Are you just going to fucking watch me?”

“I’m waiting. Chew with your mouth closed.”

He snorts. “You talk and eat all the damn time, Sunshine. I-“

“I am good at it.” You lean over the table and swipe a piece of jelly off his nose. “You are a fucking toddler.”

He catches your hand before you can pull away, and everything in him is easy. All of Ben’s rough words are still smooth on the edges, and his focused gaze is moving through you. Making your heart pick up and your body relax forward, because even with just a hand around your wrist Be’s warm and safe. His thumb is rubbing small circles on your skin, and his mouth is twitching like he’s trying not to smile.

“Brat.”

“Cunt.”

Ben starts to guide you around the table—shifting in his chair so that you stand between his legs—and you let him. 

“What do you want.” He’s grinning as he watches as you walk closer, his hand having never left yours. 

“I don’t-“

Ben drawls your name, tugging you the rest of the way and raising a hand to rest on your lower back. “You’re chewing your mouth like it’s fucking gum, and you look like you’re about to explode. Tell me what you damn want, so I can go get it and you can calm the fuck down.”

You sigh. “You’re going to think it’s stupid.”

“Seems likely.” He shrugs. “What is it.”

“Icebreakers,” your voice is a mumble, and you’re being very careful to not meet his eyes. You can feel them watching you, feel the rush of sheer confusion through his body. “They’re like conversation starters-“

“I know what fucking icebreakers are,” Ben snaps, and your face flushes as he drops your hand, lightly moving your chin up to force your gaze onto his. “Is this for team building with the Pussy Brigade? Because there’s not a chance in Christ’s pink asshole-“

You snort. “Christ’s pink asshole?”

“Shut the fuck up. Doing dinner with those idiots is already-“

“It’s not for team building, Ben.” You sigh, trying not to just fall into his chest and bury your head in his shoulder where you can’t see his reaction. “It’s for us.”

“Us?” He frowns, narrowing his eyes. “The fuck you mean for us? I know you already, Sunshine, I don’t need some shit ass fucking questions-“

“I know you know me,” you search his face, the clench of his jaw and knit of his brow, and he looks angry. Offended. You can feel his annoyance, but it’s not at you. It’s indignant, and bitter, and his hand has splayed across your back. Pulling you distractingly closer as you try to speak. “But you only know the big stuff. I want us to know the stupid things as well.”

“What the fuck are you talking about.”

“You know what I’m afraid of,” you mumble, watching his expression carefully. “And what I value, and everything important. But I want you to know things that aren’t important.”

Ben’s still frowning, but the sharp, sour feeling has faded and his gaze has turned to the one that pulls you apart. That makes you feel like he can see right into your heart and how it’s picking up just because he’s near you. Touching you. Watching you as he speaks, repeating your words in a low tone. “Things that aren’t important.” You nod, and he sighs. “Like what.”

“Just stupid shit,” you wish he would stop tracing your lower lip with his thumb so you could focus and make your voice firm. “Preferences. Likes and dislikes. I looked up a list, and we could just choose a few-“

“Fine.”

You blink at him. “Really? That’s it? You’re not going to tell me we’ve faced life and death together, Sunshine, I don’t need to know your favorite color-“

“Shut the fuck up.” He snaps, and pull you down into his lap. Holding your gaze as your hands fly to his shoulders. “Your impression of me is fucking shit, I don’t talk like a damn barbershop quartet bassist-“

“That’s exactly how you talk-“

“I said shut up. What’s your favorite color.”

You swallow. “I don’t have one.”

“Than what the fuck is the point-“

“It was an example, Ben.” You sigh, and lean forwards to speak into his chest. Trying to not think about how his hand moves to tangle fingers in your hair, or how his chin rests on the top of your head. “I want to know these things about you-“

“You already damn know my favorite color-“

“But I don’t know your favorite food,” you’re glad Ben can’t see you anymore, because you’re pouting against your will, almost desperate for him to understand. “Or your favorite flower. Or what dessert you’d be if you were a dessert.”

“What in goddamn hell are you talking about.”

“I think you’re fruitcake,” you mumble, smiling against him. “Because you’re old and made of rocks.”

“You think you’re fucking funny.” Ben’s words are bored and grumbled, but you can feel his amusement and he’s rubbing circles on your lower back. “Brat.”

“I’m hilarious.” You wrap your arms fully around his neck, leaning back to grin at him. “What desert would I be?”

Ben scans your face, eyes narrowing. You blink, having not expected him to take this seriously at all, but his tone is low and firm when he answers, “Boston creme pie.”

“Because I’m from Boston.” Your voice is dry, giving Ben an unimpressed glare, but he shakes his head.

“No.” He grins at you. “Because I want to fill you up with-“

Your hand flies up, covering his mouth. “Jesus fucking christ, Benjamin.”

He shrugs, still watching you with light in his eyes. You started it.

“I did not start it.”

You sure as shit did.

“Fuck you.”

I’m trying to. That was the damn point.

“Cunt.”

Brat. Move your fucking hand or I’m not doing any more of these stupid things.

You sigh, and pull your arm back. Ben is still grinning at you.

“Is that what you fucking wanted from me? Did you learn?” Ben’s voice when he says your name is mocking, and you just wrinkle your nose at him.

“I already knew you were a horny old fuck,” you look him up and down. “But I learned that you’re willing to do this.”

Ben rolls his eyes. “I can answer a bunch of stupid fucking questions real easy. What will I get-“

“If you do this without being a baby,” you sit up a little straighter, bringing your face only a breath away from Ben’s. “I’ll steal you all the malt vanilla ice cream from the dining hall.”

“I can do that my damn self-“

“And,” you give him one, small kiss and speak against his lips. “You can eat it in bed after we make out.”

You’ve won. Ben is swallowing and staring at you with dark eyes, and you can feel both the hunger and an indigence that he’s lost.

“Fine.” 

You kiss him again—soft with a smile so he knows you’re grateful—and lean back to grab your phone from across the table.

“First,” you squint at the list, reading from the top. “Are you a morning person, or night person?”

“We’re both fucking night people.” Ben frowns. “We were up until 4am last night, and the night before that.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrug. “It’s not a great question for two supes with chronic nightmares. What’s your favorite season?”

“Fall.”

You hum, nodding. “Me too. Favorite animal?”

“I don’t have one.”

You scoff. “Everyone has a favorite animal. Most people have like, two or three.”

“Well, I’m not a fucking toddler, so I don’t.” Ben glares at you. “And you don’t have a favorite color, so shut the fuck up.”

“I don’t have a favorite color, because I don’t want any of them to feel ugly.”

Ben snorts. “They’re fucking colors, not people. And some of them are ugly.”

“That’s mean, Ben.” Your voice is a mumble, because you know this is stupid. They are colors, but you still feel guilty choosing one. “All of them have something to contribute.”

Ben gives you a bored look. “Yellow.”

“Sunlight, ducklings, and yield signs.” You list each item off on a finger, giving Ben a proud grin when you finish. His mouth twitches, but it’s all you get before he pushes further.

“Orange,”

“Halloween and the grand canyon.”

“Gray.”

“Metaphors about morality.”

Ben narrows his eyes. “Blue.”

“We wouldn’t have green without blue, Pretty Boy.”

His grin becomes toothy and cocky, pulling you a little closer. “And why would you miss green, Sunshine?”

“Grass,” you keep your tone neutral, even as Ben starts to draw circles on your hips. “Trees. The ocean-“

“The ocean is fucking blue.”

“Nope,” you shrug. “It’s green. Sea green, Benjamin. Peace, love and sexuality-“

Ben scoffs. “You made that one up.”

“In the medieval period, it could represent love, as well as mans base desires. The snake in the garden of Eden was green, and lust is a sin.”

“Smartass,” Ben’s not even pretending to annoyed anymore. “What else is fucking good about green.” He squeezes the skin on your waist. "And desirable."

You sigh, about to push his shoulder and pretend you don’t have the faintest idea what he’s talking about, but Ben’s smiling. Really, fully smiling at you, and there’s nothing you won’t say for him if it makes this joy in his chest comfortable and aimed at you. “You.”

“Fucking right I am.” He winks at you, and you roll your eyes. 

“Stop stalling and tell me your favorite animal.”

He lets out a long sigh. “Lions.”

“Okay,” you reach up and run hand over the deep lines on his forehead. “Did that fucking kill you?”

“Yes.”

“Man-child.”

“Shut up. Are you going to tell me yours, or just fucking-“

“Swans.” You smile at him, and he grunts. “And snow leopards. What’s your favorite type of weather?”

“Are all of these damn things about favorites-“

“No.” You wrinkle your nose at him. “Answer the question.”

“You answer the fucking question. I keep going first-“

“I like it when it rains in the summer. Your turn.”

Ben scowls. “Rain in the summer as well.”

“Thank you.” You kiss the side of his mouth, and his hands tighten on your body.

“Shut the fuck up. Read the next one.”

“If you had a superpower-“ you cut yourself off, frowning at your phone. “Shit.”

“We both already fucking have superpowers.”

“Yeah, I figured that one out myself, Ben. Chocolate or vanilla.”

Ben’s stare at you is bored, and you shove his arm. 

“Fuck you.”

“I didn’t say a damn thing-“

“Shut it. What decade would you have lived-“ You sigh, and Ben snorts.

“I told you this was fucking stupid.”

“I told you to shut it. What element are you?”

Ben drawls your name, and you glare at him. “You’re a damn fire supe-“

“Yeah, we know what I am. What are you.”

Ben frowns. “What do you think I am.”

“Earth.” Your answer is immediate, and almost involuntary. But Ben is Earth. He’s everything and big and strong and permanent and earth. “You’re earth, Ben.”

He nods slowly. “Fine. You get one more.”

You scan over the list. Three things in a burning building is a no, because Ben will just say he doesn’t give a fuck. You know all his favorite shows and movies, because you introduced him to them. His favorite sport is baseball, and it’s yours as well because it’s funny to watch Ben yell at the TV about balls.

You settle on a question that you know your answer to, and desperately want to hear Ben’s.

“If time and money weren’t an issue, how would you spend your life?” 

Ben blinks at you. “What the fuck does that mean.”

“Like, if you didn’t have a job to do, and that was fine because there were not jobs to do, what would you do with your time?” Ben keeps looking at you like you’ve grown another head, and you sigh. “I would sing and write poetry.”

“Why.”

“Because I would have fun doing it,” you shrug. “I’d be singing for me, and it wouldn’t matter if my poetry was Shakespeare or complete fucking dogshit. I could just do it to do it. What would you do.”

“I don’t know how to fucking write-"

“It doesn’t have to be writing, Ben.” You pull his head down, scanning his face. “It can be anything. It could be acting, or cooking, or traveling the world. It could even just be watching tv-“

“That one.”

You blink at him. “TV?”

He nods. “You would watch it with me, and make dinner, and I’d clean up. Then we’d go to bed, and I’d fuck you, and we’d fall asleep.”

You frown. “That’s just what we’re doing now, sans fucking.”

“No.” Ben grunts. “In my answer, it’s just us. No missions or Homelander or Pussy Brigade. Just me and you, fucking and watching TV.”

“Oh,” you feel your face flush, and wish Ben would stop looking at you like that—with pure focus and sincerity—because now you’re both touched emotionally and incredibly horny, and it’s confusing. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

You smile at him. “I mean, I can get on board with that.”

When Ben kisses you it’s easy. This is so easy. Sitting on his lap, talking about things that don’t matter with his body warm around you and his hold on your hips strong but gentle. Feeling Ben’s deep voice rolling through your chest when he speaks. Words hummed against your lips, something unbreakable and content and powerful and hungry pounding against his ribs.

“Good.”

End Note: One day I will write a one-shot that's not based in Chapter 14. Today is not that day.

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Taglist

@manicjk @lordofthunderthr @artemys-ackles

[celaenaeiln]

What are you favorite things about Dickkory?

Please and Thank You☺️

SO. MANY. THINGS!!!

Where do I start?!

Their freedom

Their dedication

Their dynamic

Ok so my favorite thing - well one of three favorite things - about Dick and Kory is that they just let each other be who they are.

What I mean is Dick never tells Kori she has to look a certain way, act a certain way, or talk a certain way. Obviously he's going to stop her from killing people but he loves her for who she is.

Secret Origins (1986) Issue #13

This means the WORLD to me because EVERYONE loves Kori for her body canonically. Like every single guy is just so turned on by her looks but for Dick that doesn't matter. He loves her wholely and purely. I'm tearing up a little by how much respect he gives her.

The New Titans (1988) Issue #71

You have no idea how happy his words make me. He never ever EVER blames Kori for the way she dresses or restricts her in any fashion. He's always extremely supportive of her. If she wants to do modeling? He's all for it. If she wants to go dancing? He's right there with her. She wants to try something new? He's helping her. He is SUCH a supportive boyfriend in everything she does. The killing is still off-limits ofcourse but everything else he loves her so much. He loves her for who she is not how she looks.

The New Titans (1988) Issue #71

He NEVER puts her down. And she never puts him down. They're supportive. And this I can appreciate even more because some of Dick's other love interests have it out for him. They get some type of power play about digging open his insecurities and throwing his faults in his face but not her. He's aware of his own faults, he doesn't need that to be used as a weapon against him like some more modern love interests do. Kori's understanding and loving and in response to that Dick treats her like a queen.

That's the first reason. The second reason is they help each other.

Dick can be difficult to deal with because he locks his emotions away. When he feels stressed he isolates himself because he doesn't want to talk to anyone about how he's feeling. But Kori? She doesn't resent him for that. She actually patiently tries to get him to open up. She's understanding and loving of him and his situation. I love them because when things get hard they don't just abandon each other, move on, and then get back together again after they've solved their own problems alone - no. They work hard to work through it together.

The New Teen Titans (1980) Issue #28

Dick and Kori come from vastly different cultures and have different beliefs so this causes problems. Here Dick's contemplating settling down with Kori because of how she kills people.

The New Teen Titans (1984) Issue #13

But in the face of it all, losing her is imporant to him that their difference in values

The New Teen Titans (1984) Issue #14

The New Teen Titans (1984) Issue #15

The thing about Dick and Kori having problems is that it's inspiring. Like you see all the troubles they faced, all the hardships, differences, and difficulties they went and it's amazing. Because Dick and Kori come from two different world. Literally. But they worked hard on their relationship. They worked through their differences because they loved each other so much that they wanted to stay together.

We could've have Dick and Kory forever if the real life Batman office writers hadn't broken off their wedding because they wanted to take Dick away from the Titans and give him to Batman. Do you realize what this means? If DC writers Dick hadn't been ripped away and Kori hadn't been disparaged by them, we would STILL be reading about Dick and Kory now. They would've been married and had kids by now.

But that brings me to my point - their love is amazing because they worked on the things that were different. It's awe-inspiring to love someone so much that you'll stay with them through anything.

Dickkory is my number one romantic pair for this reason. The problems that Dick has faced in his subsequent relationships is NOTHING compared to what he worked through with Kori. Which is why it frustrates me when a love interest abandons him at first stirrings of trouble because "hello? what you're getting now is cleaned up dick grayson. This is like playing a game on easy mode and still failing. If you can't be there for him when he has his act together, how could you ever be there for him when he's truly struggling?"

Going back to the scene at hand, Dick still stays with Kori but Kori is forced to marry another man at her father's orders and this is what breaks them apart. Because Kori is married to Ryand'r and Dick loves her. But despite this?

The New Teen Titans (1984) Issue #32

For Dick on the other hand it takes a case for him to understand -

The New Teen Titans (1984) Issue #34

But he gets it.

The New Teen Titans (1984) Issue #34

They come back stronger than ever.

Their love is the greatest romance of the ages for this reason. Your partner is your confidant. When the whole world turns against you, YOU need to be there by their side and they need to stand by you through everything. If you suddenly go from being rich to dirt poor, your parents abandon you, your friends betray you - the greatest love is standing with your partner through everything.

And Dick loves Kori for this too

Tales of the Teen Titans Issue #44

And that's what they embody and that's why I respect them.

Their relationship isn't a shattered vase glued together, their relationship is a muscle growth. You exercise, you stress the muscle and tear it. It causes you pain but that tear heals and the result is a stronger muscle and a healtier and fitter body. They're just so great.

So the second reason was their dedication to each other. The third reason is I love their dynamic!!

Kori is aggressive and strong but loving where as Dick is softer and strong but loving. It's like a girlboss and powerful malewife dynamic. Dick is phsycially shorter and smaller than Kori and Kori taller than him. They way she carries him around and touches him and holds him?!

The New Teen Titans (1984) Issue #15

The way that Dick gets so jealous and tries to show off for Kori only for his mount to slip off the cliff is so cute!! To everyone Dick is this cool, sexy, intelligent, perfect figure. The only time he gets childlishly jealous and reckless is when he's with Kori. And then having Kori bridal carry him after his mistake is just priceless.

But Dick doesn't begrudge Kori for this. What I love about Dick loving Kori is that he loves her for her power.

The Flash (1987) Issue #81

Dick thirsting for people who can pick him up and throw him around will always be my favorite part of him.

"I love that in a woman."

Yeah, Dick, we can hear that loud and clear. See it too.

LIKE LOOK AT THIS!!!-

Dark Knights of Steel Issue #7

With Kori there's no hesitation to give Dick affirmation.

Tales of the Teen Titans Issue #50

The New Teen Titans (1980) Issue #2

Tales of the Teen Titans Issue #49

Everyone in the entirety of DC knows that Dick is exceedingly pretty. Even villains regularly call him out on it. But it's SO nice to hear his girlfriend tell him that in such an honest and nice non-sleezy way. And that's my probably most favorite thing about them. This girlboss/malewife dynamic they have going on. They're equals but it's not the usual dynamic where the guy showers the girl with compliments and she's satisfied back. She tells him of her own volition how much she loves him and how beautiful he looks. She carries him around and is aggressive in their love. And I just love that so much.

Their love overall is just off the charts.

The New Teen Titans (1984) Issue #39

The New Teen Titans (1980) Issue #38

Teen Titans Spotlight (1988) Issue #19

The New Teen Titans (1984) Issue #10

[billythesimp]

Hello, I really enjoy your work, it's written very nicely! I was wondering if you perhaps write some head-canons of wise x reader, and what Wise is like when he's clingy himself/how he shows his love with you. Thank you!

Stay Close with me

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…

I realize that this interpretations does make Wise sound OOc so I will preface that these are just headcanons, fanon if you will. It's the thought that counts!

Wise x gn!reader

𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡…⋙

tw: OOc

✦ Wise isn’t you typical boyfriend. While he does enjoy his own time alone, coding and watching his ‘boring’ documentary films, he still makes time for his s/o. When he gets the chance, he’ll whisk them away to his room for cuddles and even have a mini movie night together, or they take time off of work to go shopping and sightseeing around town. Really, sharing his time with you and doing what you want is his way of showing love and affection at times, since he’s always busy with work and his Proxy research. 

✦ If he’s feeling extremely lonely or you’ve been neglecting him for your own job (that’s saying that you don’t work at the studio with Wise and Belle- Wise has probably tried to convince you to so you can see each other more.), he takes it upon himself to go out and find you. Maybe even buying lunch for the two of you and forcing you to spend your break with him. But if you’re talking with a coworker-or any random guy- he’ll watch from afar until you notice him. The smug look on his face when the other person sees how important he is to you only makes him proud of your boyfriend.

✦ He likes it when you invade his personal space, sit in his lap while he plays with your hair. Hug him behind when he’s working the counter at his job and mumble into his back. He loves it when you are just near him or holding onto him, he feels needed and wanted. Of course, the both of you have boundaries and know when to display PDA and when not to, but he can’t help it if he needs to pull you into the backroom to destress from some bad interaction with a customer or low energy from socializing. Belle can take care of the store for a little.

✦ When giving gifts, Wise is very observant when it comes to things you’ve mentioned wanting in the past. He’s careful with what he buys, thinking about how you would react or consider what sentimental value it’d hold when you receive it. And he doesn;t hand them out at random. He waits for the perfect occasion where he knows that you’d appreciate it and cherish what he gives you. Anniversaries, a promotion at work, graduation from school or online courses, birthdays and holidays. He wants you to remember how happy you were, how you are at your peak when you receive a gift he knows will make you smile brightly when looking at it.

✦ Really he’s a great boyfriend. Supportive, affectionate, considerate and thoughtful. He does his best to make you happy and wouldn’t want it any other way. Nothing gets past Wise, his eyes see all and if he could record the memory of you he would in a heartbeat and save it in a hard drive to cherish forever.

[lqveharrington]

Love-Hate | H.B.

summary: you’re love-hate relationship with Hobie Brown himself <3

pairing: Hobie Brown x fem!Spidey!reader

warnings: kinda suggestive !! making out, fluff if you squint, cursing, gwen and miles being in an awkward situation, lmk if i forgot any !!

wc: 1.5k+

a/n: it’s so hard to write for hobie’s accent oml !!

————

You had a love-hate relationship with Hobie.

Literally.

One second you’ll be annoyed at him for taking all the snacks you announced you wanted to have and the next, you’ll be making out in the break room, knocking things over. It was a never-ending cycle that confused everyone who witnessed an interaction. Even during missions Miguel sent out, the bickering wouldn’t end and in return, the make-outs wouldn’t end.

You never labeled the relationship as anything and Hobie hated labels, so it was a win-win situation. There would be some moments where you were just friendly with each other, but the arguments that would soon blow up in your faces will always end whatever chance others would deem as a healthy relationship.

Sometimes, your closest friends at HQ were nothing but added more reasons to your disputes with each other. The typical starter to a fight would be one stealing the others' belongings without them knowing. Yet, neither of you could ever give proof until an hour later when the item would appear back in its rightful place where it was last left.

Gwen being the cause of those fights.

Just like today, but worse.

You were pissed. And it wasn’t even Hobie’s fault for once. Still, he decided today would be the day to be the most aggravating person in the world.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist, love?” He draped an arm around your shoulders, feigning false hurt when you pushed him off. “Nice to know you have some sort of emotion.”

“Hobie, go away.” You glare in his direction, finding a smirk displayed on his face. Not giving him the satisfaction of blowing up just yet, you answer his previous question. “Miguel is being a huge dick. I fought the stupid anomaly off and got blamed for not calling it in. What does he want me to do? Risk the entire universe, my universe to be more precise, just to call in a stupid anomaly? I would rather be stranded on a deserted island than risk that! I hate him so much, I have no idea why I joined this stupid society!”

You enter one of the more secluded areas you claimed as your own place, scanning for the walkman your dad gave you before he… Well, you all know the canon event by now.

“Where the fuck is it?” You let out a frustrated groan, opening the drawers and slamming them shut once you realized someone had taken it. “Did you take it?”

“What?”

“Did you take the walkman?” You stare up at him, glare still prominent. “I left it here.”

“Why would I take the walkman?” Hobie blatantly replied, hands in the pockets of his vest as he leaned against one of the walls, his guitar placed right beside him.

“Because you steal all of my shit, Hobie!” You rub your forehead, earning a raised brow from the male. “You know what? Fine, it’s fine. Everything is fine. I just need to relax. Then maybe you’ll give back the Walkman.”

“I don’t have the bloody Walkman.” He walked up to you, mere inches away. “And if I did, I would ‘ave gave it to ya’ as it seems you’re in a bit of a pissy mood.”

“Bite me.” You roll your eyes at his words, shifting closer to his frame. “You always take my things! No matter what time of day it is, where we are, it always goes missing! And you clearly don’t understand the value of this particular item!”

You looked up at him as you breathed heavily from the small outburst.

“I didn’t take anything.” Hobie met your eyes and leaned the smallest bit.

“Liar.” You reply with a voice laced with pure hate.

If anyone had walked in for the first few seconds, they would’ve thought it was a staring contest. But the sudden energy that emitted from the both of you completely took over, now hoping no one walked in.

Your hands pulled on his vest as he held your face with one hand and your waist with the other, his lips meeting you with such force and passion. As swiftly as it happened, you were able to sync up your movements, allowing Hobie to push you on the couch.

“I fucking hate you.” You separate from him, catching your breath.

“Feelings mutual, love.” He kissed your jaw and moved down to your neck, leaving small pecks and sucking on the more sensitive parts. You let out a small moan at the action, tugging on his vest and wanting to feel his lips back on your own.

“You’re so fucking needy.”

“Shut up.” You close the gap between you two, the coolness of his lip ring sending a miniature shiver down your spine.

He slotted one of his legs between both of yours, eliciting a whimper you tried to hold back. Something that Hobie didn’t fail to hear. He shifted his leg with the smallest amount of force causing you to gasp, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. He swallowed all your noises, immediately feeling the need to get closer than you already were.

Hobie pulled away from you, the line of spit connecting the two of you splitting as you groaned from the physical detachment.

“Bee, what the fuck!” Your brows furrowed in confusion, eyes still full of desire for the Brit in front of you.

“Y’know how much I hate your Spidey suit.” He squeezed your waist, watching you squirm underneath him. “It makes everything so impossible.”

You huff, “Don’t blame me for something you started.”

“I didn’t take your walkman.” He spoke in a lower tone, eyes darkening. “How many times will I have to say that for you to get that in your pretty likkle mind?”

“Fuck you.”

“You fucking wish.” Hobie went to attack your neck once more, this time gaining a much louder moan. Your own eyes widen at the noise.

He groaned into your neck, “Holy shit, love.”

— —

“Miles, you’ve discovered every inch of this place! What more do you need to discover?” Gwen walked backward, watching her friend’s eyes light up as he spotted a hallway he’s never been in. “What?”

“What’s over there?”

Gwen looked over to where he was pointing, immediate regret taking over. I knew I should’ve gone another way. She thought.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it. Let’s go to the break room and bother more cool Spider-men!”

Miles raised a brow at her sudden energy to leave the area. “What? Are you hiding something there?”

“Me? I won’t ever hide something in this stupid place.” She crossed her arms, standing her ground. “Let’s leave.”

“Nope.” He popped his p, already walking to the new area. “I wanna look to see what’s over there.”

“It’s boring! It is so boring over there.” Gwen followed, hoping that you weren’t there.

“If it’s boring, why do you want us to leave this place so bad?”

“Just… Because.” She stuck her tongue out. “Just come on, nothing good is over—“

“Fuck!”

The distant sound made Miles concerned, thinking someone was hurt in the area. He started to make his way down the hallway, Gwen trying to stop him before he saw something he wished he didn’t.

“Gwen. If something bad happens down there and we could’ve prevented it, it’ll be on you.” He poked her arm, web shooters ready just in case. “We’ll just check, okay?”

The blonde bit her lip and nodded. Instead of getting her web-shooters ready to shoot at whatever the cause is, she got ready to web his eyes closed and her own hands to cover hers.

Miles burst into the room flicking the lights on, screaming to scare off whatever it was.

You and Hobie, on the other hand, jumped at the noise, Hobie throwing a pillow at the culprit.

“MILES?!” You shout, hiding yourself under Hobie, silently cursing. “GWEN?!”

“OH, MY EYES!” Miles turns around, Gwen in return webbing them shut a little too late. “OW, MY EYES!”

“Oops, sorry, Miles.” She pats his shoulder, not making eye contact with the older pair. “Hey, Hobie… Hey—”

“As much as I love a group reunion, get the fuck out.” Hobie dropped his head on your shoulder, muttering out words that weren’t too nice. Gwen quickly turned around and left without struggle, Miles still struggling with the web stuck on his face. The blonde whispered an apology to the boy, grabbing his arm and leading him out of the room.

“Sorry— OW! Gwen!” Miles leaves the room with a yelp.

Hobie rolls his eyes at the pair, tilting his head to meet your eyes. “So?”

You stare back, “What?”

“You called me Bee.” He gave a smug look. “You like me.”

“I do not!”

“Whatever you say.”

You smack his arm, adjusting the way you lay on the couch. “You still took my walkman.”

“Gwendy literally left it on the counter over there,” Hobie smirks in your direction. “Either your spidey senses aren’t working or you love me.”

“Love? No. Absolutely not.”

“The look of messy everything on you is a style then, yeah?” He clicks his tongue, taking in your disheveled look.

“I hate you.”

“Hate you too.” He gave you one last kiss, which believe it or not, left a small smile on your lips.

————

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[bisclavret]

what SICKO wrote the last scenes between gwaine and merlin is what i want to know. because even lancelot's last episode with merlin - which had to have been intentionally gay-coded since it's obvious the man is grappling with his feelings for merlin morphing from platonic to explicitly romantic - is still subtext because he doesn't have the tools to healthily express his feelings so he goes for the biggest romantic gesture he can think of: sacrificing his life to save a loved one. the writers also make sure to root this gesture back to gwen by adding a scene where she's inadvertently asking him to make that sacrifice first, so although it's very obvious that it's more for merlin than for gwen that lancelot dies for, she is there to add some plausible deniability, thus keeping his sexuality within the realms of subtext.

i don't want to delve too deeply into arthur's last scenes with merlin as there is both so much to unpack about what they mean to each other and there is also somehow nothing left to say that hasn't been said before. my point is just that there's so much at stake that if the viewer doesn't want to deal with the romantic subtext between them they can hang onto the 38 other dynamics merlin and arthur have represented to each other that the writers spent 5 years plastering on top of the gay subtext. basically, while the romance feels textual emotionally-speaking, it isn't "canon".

i don't mean to say that any relationship is better than another (even though i obviously have a preference) but that in gwaine's final scenes with merlin there's just no subtext anymore. his becomes the most explicit expression of romantic love towards merlin, and therefore the most explicit acknowledgment of homosexual love and the existence of queer people on the show:

it starts out with merlin suggesting that gwaine saved a girl from the saxons and then looked after her because he has a more than platonic interest in her, and they show us that merlin is right - gwaine and the girl eira slept together - even as gwaine half-heartedly denies any interest (which, why even deny it? merlin saw them holding hands! unless the lie is part of the point). then in that very same scene and directly after this exchange, merlin needs rescuing from the saxons, calls after gwaine, and gwaine performs the exact same role for him that he performed for eira: he saves him from the saxons and looks after him (for as long as merlin lets him).

the parallel between merlin and eira with such quick cause and effect (it literally all happens within the same minute) is where the shift from subtext to text becomes undeniable. yes, there have been other moments on the show where a character's affections towards two different genders are beat-for-beat the same, but, again, there has always been plausible deniability. in this case the parallel is meant to be taken at face value: the core point of it is to show us how gwaine expresses his attraction.

then, the dialogue they chose to bookend this scene with takes it a few steps further by functioning as a textual love confession to merlin himself: the scene opens with gwaine thanking merlin for everything he did for eira, and merlin saying that there is no need to thank him as it was the least he could do. a minute later, after merlin thanks gwaine for protecting him from the saxons as both merlin and the show just concluded gwaine did for eira for romantic reasons (even as he denied it by outright lying), gwaine parrots what merlin said when gwaine thanked him: no need to thank me, merlin, it's the least i could do.

but this comes off as the opposite of dismissive: in fact, this echoing of merlin's words is meant to jolt both merlin and the audience. by saying this right after saving merlin from the saxons, gwaine has now intentionally pointed merlin's attention towards the explicitly romantic parallel between himself and eira. gwaine is directly implying he just did for merlin what merlin correctly deduced he did for a woman because he desired her sexually and romantically, and he is using merlin's own words to challenge him into seeing past the initial flimsy lie that there is nothing between them. and what's behind the lie, of course, is that gwaine has done all of this and more because he desires merlin sexually and romantically. the camera even lingers on merlin, allowing him and the viewer to absorb what just happened. that for as long as we have known gwaine, his motivations have always boiled down to "i want to be there for merlin". and now both the audience and merlin finally know for sure what was motivating him the entire time.

what's more, by using merlin's own dismissive words, gwaine also implicates merlin's penchant for repression and denial and never allowing himself to be given credit where it's due. this unfortunately never properly gets dismantled on the show, but this moment shows that gwaine knows merlin well enough to know that he goes above and beyond for people, and that merlin's reasons for this ring as false to gwaine's ears as gwaine's reasons for saving damsels do to merlin. it also bittersweetly implies that gwaine has accepted that these are the platonic, repressed terms on which he can have a relationship with merlin. but i think the way in which he explicitly points all of this out to merlin is meant to imply that he isn't entirely happy about having to accept that. or, to circle back to eira, that merlin seems to be cheering for him to enter a heterosexual relationship when gwaine would clearly rather be with him.

what's additionally interesting to me about this is that this is one of the only scenes on this show that touch on same gender attraction that isn't using magic as a metaphor - because merlin doesn't have magic at the moment, yes, but also because gwaine is the more active character in this sequence, and he's an adventure hero, so he simply fights the bad guy to protect the person he loves. there is no metaphor to wrap this in, so he just gets to explicitly state his bisexuality. in the next scene, the very last one he and merlin share, it all becomes about magic again, which is both representative of merlin's sexuality and the show's "plausible deniability" approach to gay-coding, and so neither gwaine or merlin are permitted to acknowledge it. also, and this is for another post altogether, but all things point to "gwaine knew". not least because he gets to come out as queer without the complications of the magic-as-gay-metaphor which in turn emboldens him to ask merlin for the truth as directly as the metaphor-suffocated narrative will allow it.

tldr gwaine textually and canonically expresses and then confesses his feelings to merlin in a shockingly well-written and layered scene which makes gwaine the most explicitly queer character on bbc merlin and it's entirely because he exists outside the magic-as-gay-metaphor plot while loving someone who embodies that entire metaphor and it's crazy to me that we don't talk about this more. once again i ask what SICKO wrote this and where were they for the entire rest of this fucking show

tldrtldr at least gwaine is bi. its like i always say. at least gwaine is bi. at the end of the day. gwaine is bi. dont cry ok? gwaine is bi. at the end of the day. gwaine is bi. when all else fails. gwaine is bi. we'll always have. gwaine is bi

[eldewinddolly]

🦎 Half-goblin Holly backstory headcanons 🦎 (including some more general goblins headcanons because actual canon is *not it*) (very long post ahead, but I felt it was due time to expand the lore of my beloved half-goblin Holly) - Her dad's name is Lezzare. Holly was very close to him as a youngling ; he used to affectionately call her "B'wa-biba" (darling sparkle) - He made all her childhood clothes himself, as per the goblin tradition of mending : goblins love to patchwork their clothes with visible stitches, and fabrics passed down in the family from generation to generation - to allude to how their skin shed naturally and symbolise the love and protection of the family allowing them to grow. This tradition is mostly seen as an excuse for poor craftsfaeship compared to the more sophisticated, gold-thread embedded clothing of the elves and centaurs, but many goblins are actually very skilled at sewing. - He and Coral met at the university, at a marine biology class - Coral attended as a student and Lezzare as an auditor (goblins basically aren't allowed to pursue higher education in Haven because they are deemed too stupid) - Lezzare was an activist fighting for goblins' rights, and advocating for a demilitarised Haven (arguing that the People should only defend themselves against mud people as a united front, and not further the divides between the fairy families according to the "nobler" elven values and morals). - Even though he was a pacifist, he was sent to Howler's Peak after a mass arrestation following a deadly terrorist attack, when Holly was still quite young. Coral joined LEPMarine and moved to Atlantis with baby Holly so they could go visit Lezzare more easily. - Holly still loved her dad, but the stigma of being a goblin hybrid and her dad being in prison slowly started to take a toll on her ; especially since Coral was gone working most of the time, and Holly spent a lot of days with various LEP officers both being very dismissive of her and her father, and encouraging her to join the LEP like her mom. - When Coral died, Lezzare was allowed to attend the funeral, which absolutely didn't sit well with Coral's family who hated him and disapproved heavily of their daughter's relationship with a goblin. At the funeral, Lezzare started performing a goblin fire grieving ritual which was interpreted as an aggression attempt, causing an absolute riot between him and Coral's family and LEP coworkers, with Holly torn in the middle. - Holly was extremely mad for a very long time at her father for ruining her mother's funeral. Lezzare was also really upset that she chose to join the LEPrecon after everything they did to their kind. - I believe they were strictly no contact since, and for at least the first three books. But after meeting Artemis, and the B'wa Kell rebellion, Holly starts to see things a bit more differently, and a bit less black and white. Julius' death, then the events of The Opal Deception leaving her out of the LEP and more isolated than ever, as "the goblin LEP experiment that ended up being a murdering failure like every other goblin ever is", really changed her entire perspective. - Now she sees her dad more often ; mending their relationship takes time but they find things to bond over, and it gets better 🧡 ... That's it for now ! Please tell me what you think about all this ! Also, I've started working on a feature film two weeks ago that's why this piece took forever to finish ; even though I'm really done with it, and I think I could have done better with the color palette (too same toney imo), I'm pretty happy with how vibrant it globally turned out. And I'm also quite happy with Lezzare's face 💚

[verysium]

if you had to associate a city from the world w any bllk character of your liking which cities with who and why? sorry for the odd question lmao it just crossed my mind. love ur works btw!💗

i love unconventional questions like these cus then i have to really think hard to come up with a good answer. i will admit i am slightly biased because i feel that the current teams they play for already represent them well, so some of these might be a repeat. also i am not that well-travelled (wish i could if i had the money), so i'm merely going off the reputed description of each city.

rin would be paris. i know it sounds unoriginal, but pxg rin has already grown 10x prettier than he was during the u-20 arc, so something in that city air must be doing him right. also i feel like he just dresses like a stereotypical european lol. the winter coat and scarf combo plus the perpetual scowl on his face. he probably walks super quickly down the metro too. i have this fic in the drafts where rin and reader meet up at his shitty parisian apartment and eat hotpot and smoke cigs on a random sidewalk in winter. rin is also high class. it just comes naturally to him. like if u ever take a walk near place charles de gaulle (the arc de triomphe area), there's this quiet luxury that is prominent in the fancy hotels and brand stores that make up the vicinity. even better if u go during christmas time because they have these intricately detailed light fixtures. i remember seeing this one cartier store with a giant glittering jaguar on the front. not to mention their swarovski christmas tree. rin's like that. i feel like in a few years once he goes fully professional, the media would go wild over his poise and refined grace. he just has that subtly enticing aura, like a silent glamour.

sae would be madrid. not just because it's canon but also because i feel like the city is just the polar opposite of him. madrid is one of the hottest cities in europe, and sae's just perpetually cold. even in the literal sense, i feel like he would have cold hands and feet too. if u see those wes anderson style travel commercials of madrid, it's always some variation of pastel houses, sunshine, and bikini beaches. that is exactly what sae is not like. i also chose this for...*ahem* spoiler reasons in my upcoming fic chapter which i'm not going to delve too much into. but the gist is that the contrast is why sae fits so well in madrid and also why it's a bit tragic to see how drastically he has to change in order to adapt to a new environment. if not spain, i feel like he'd still end up somewhere with a large coastline because of how fundamental the sea is to him throughout his childhood. it's sort of his safe space. if i had the choice to assign two cities, i'd also include his hometown of kamakura since he seems like the type to be secretly sentimental. i picture sae as someone who values his roots even though he constantly says he has bigger and better places to be. like he would tell everyone that he was born in the wrong country but then proceed to sigh melodramatically whenever he actually misses home.

kaiser is a weird mix of munich, new york, and las vegas. i chose munich largely because of his german roots. i also picture him as bavarian. new york and las vegas are mostly attributed to the duality of his character. when we first see kaiser, he's this figure of flamboyance. his entrance was hands-down the most theatrically dramatic one, and there are theatre motifs throughout his dialogue (eg. roles on a stage, rejecting yoichi's script/play). i feel like this would fit well with the extravagant nightlife las vegas is known for and, of course, broadway in NYC. furthermore, kaiser is this prime example of clawing your way to the top. he seems charismatic and welcoming at first, but then we see his internal motives and well...it's something. he is cutthroat when it comes to competition, and he's not afraid of using others in his ascent to the top. i mean...he literally holds people by the hair as if they're mere objects. that seems pretty ruthless and machiavellian to me. i doubt he even humanizes any of his rivals; rather, he views them as opponents to his ideology. there's also a reason why they say if you make it in new york, you can make it anywhere. there's a highly individualistic mindset, and if you really want something, the resources are there for you to achieve it. kaiser is like that in the sense he is willing to put his all into getting something he desires, even up to an obsessive degree.

yukimiya is london. like u know what taylor swift said about the english? that's yukimiya for you. he treats his mother right, sleeps 8 hours a day, and said his first love was when his friend's 16-year-old sister kissed him on the forehead. he cannot be any more perfect. not to mention he's a literal model. like hello? IMG is calling.

shidou is somewhere in ohio. i'm not going to elaborate. the man's just weird.

isagi is somewhere rural. idk why but he strikes me as a country boy. probably helps his parents on the rice farm and bikes long distances to school. i found a lot of parallels between him and hinata shoyo from haikyu mostly because they're both from a smaller, lesser known neighborhood, have a pretty ordinary childhood, and become inspired by this influential role model. my secondary reason is just that isagi doesn't seem like he'd even be familiar with the urban landscape. he's lived his life in humble origins, so i think there might be some culture shock once he actually gets to the city. like...boy was genuinely amazed when he entered that blue lock facility. never seen so much high-end equipment and technology in his life.

ego lives in a sewer. i cannot tell u his precise location just that he probably hasn't washed his hair in 45 days and is still surviving off processed ramen noodles. please pray for him.

barou is los angeles and if not socal, then he's from the bay area. i took one good look at his artificially dyed red hair and the answer was clear. he is not immune to trends guys. it's almost embarrassing. furthermore, i think the general silicon valley area is known to be hardworking, and that encapsulates barou pretty well. he is disciplined to the core, and he knows that success is not going to come to him without him actively trying to reach it. he's also...(let's be real guys)...just a teensy weensy bit arrogant. he calls himself a king, as in a literal monarch. and he says this in the most serious tone too. now he rightfully earned that title, but it doesn't erase the secondhand cringe i felt from reading that dialogue LOL.