#also big shoutout to when the characters end up moving on despite how desperately they cling to it

[tytonnidaie]

this girls' night we will be romanticising grief. no we will not be moving on. not even a little bit. the grief will be all you see forever. what could have been beautiful is just another monument

[blackmissfrizzle]

Wild Child

Characters: Miguel Galindo x black!reader

Summary: Miguel can’t control his free spirited wife.

Warnings: Its filthy. I tried to put some plot in it but its barely there lol.

WC: 4.1K

A/N: I hit a couple of birds with this one stone. First its a request from @darlingcherrybomb-Can I have 11 & 15 w/ Miguel Galindo plz??? thank you :) and this is also my submission for my 2K Follower Celebration and Bad Bitch Challenge. The song I’m using is Hood Rat Shit. Also shoutout to @starrynite7114​ for indulging me!

Prompts are bolded

When Miguel Galindo started dating you no one really batted an eye. They simply thought the businessman/cartel boss was going through a mid-life crisis and wanted some young pretty thing on his arm. But when he slipped that engagement ring on your finger and made an honest woman out of you, everyone had questions. You were Santo Padre’s resident wild child.

If it wasn’t the Mayans causing trouble, then it was you. Growing up the Reyes family was your next-door neighbors and that instantly made EZ and Angel your best friends. Even as a child Angel was charismatic and that easily made you look up to him. Everything he did, you tried to do. That earned you the nickname, Angelita. If you could’ve joined the club, you would’ve.

So how you ended up married to Miguel was a mystery. Sure, you cleaned up nice and despite your wild ways you had a respectable job, but you still were considered as riff raff, nothing but a damn troublemaker.

Where everyone saw a crazy party girl, Miguel saw an independent uninhibited woman. Someone unafraid to speak their mind and can hold their own in this cutthroat world. Someone who could handle all of him. Someone who humbled him and made him enjoy the simpler things in life.

Although, he loved you, you were a fucking headache. Your free spirit didn’t sit well with the confines of his lifestyle. Any chance you got you ditched the bodyguards. Upscale lounges? Nah, you loved the dive bars. There’s a Mayans party? You’re there. Dress like you’re a powerful businessman’s wife? Nope can do. You were allergic to designer and preferred jeans and leggings.  Being driven around town? No thank you, you were a speed demon. As you and your friends love to say, “You’re ain’t nothing but a hoodrat hoodrat, hoochie mama.”

Like tonight, he specifically told you he didn’t want you hanging out at the clubhouse because he heard some rumblings of trouble with another MC. But of course, you didn’t listen. It was EZ’s patch party and you were gonna celebrate with your boys.

“Run me my money, Medina!” You folded your hand in the ‘gimme’ motion.

“Aren’t you already rich?” He asked, slapping the twenties in your hand.

Angel busted out laughing and nudged Medina with his shoulder. “We told you not to play her. I told you she’s vicious. Don’t ever fall for the puppy dog eyes.”

Everyone joined in at Medina’s lost. At this point most Mayans in the Santo Padre charter and other charters knew not to play pool with you or at least not to underestimate you, so finding someone not privy to to your skills was delightful.

Throughout the night, your goal was to set EZ up with Gabby and not just for a one-night stand. He desperately needed someone else to focus on instead of Emily. Currently, you were outside at a table with your crew: Coco, Gilly, EZ, and Angel.

“Just go talk to her.” You urged your best friend.

“Yeah, for some crazy ass reason she likes you.” Angel slapped the back of his brother’s head.

Tracing your finger along his arm, you pointed out the evidence. “It’s this damn vein that always making an appearance.”

Coco sat back in amazement. “That shit really turn y’all on? Simple stuff like that? One time I had a chick obsessed with my fingers. She got turned on whenever I held a cig. I thought she was into some freaky ass shit.” The whole table erupted into laughter. For Coco to be so experienced, he was clueless.

Taking his hand in yours, you began tracing his fingers and inspecting. “Oh ok, I see you Coco Cruz. These shits are veiny, long, and thick as fuck. Yeah, homegirl was obsessed!”

“But why, chiquita?” Coco flicked you on the nose.

“Do you not finger bitches, Cruz? These are prefect candidates for fingering. Like dude, when I see, Miguel’s fingers wrapped around a glass, I get all wet and tingly inside.”

If you were paying attention, then you would’ve noticed how quiet all the guys gotten. It wasn’t until Coco slyly slipped his hand out of your grasp that you felt a presence. “He’s behind me, isn’t he?”

“Yup, Angelita!” Angel hooked his arm around your neck and ruffled your hair. A gesture that didn’t bother Miguel. He understood the familial dynamic you had with the Reyes brothers.

“Hey babe!” You smiled at him like you didn’t just disobeyed him by showing up at this party.

Miguel gave you a small smirk. It was his way of telling you he was pissed off, but he wasn’t going to show it in front of company. “Sweetheart,” he kissed you on top of your head. “I’m going to talk to Obispo and then we’re leaving.” His tone told you there was no room for arguments.

Miguel left you to go to talk to Bishop and give you some time to tell your friends goodbye. Marcus stood by you as he watched boss leave. “Angelita, do you ever stay out of trouble?” He patted your back and kissed your temple.

You held your chin as if you were in deep thought. “Mmm, nope. Its too much fun not to.”

“We should’ve nicknamed you little Diabla.” Gilly joked.

“Screw you, Gilly!”

“No, that’s your husband’s job and by the way you’ll be walking like Bambi for the next week will be proof enough.” You slapped Angel upside the head, but the only further his laughing. They all loved to tease you when you got in trouble with Miguel.

You didn’t have time to quip back, because Miguel came back done with his conversation with Bishop and from the looks of it, Bishop got some bad news. Hopefully, none of it had anything to do with you.

When you got in the car the partition was already rolled up, a big red flag that you were in trouble. “Sooooo, what did you talk to Bishop about? He looked upset.”

Miguel cut his eyes to you before he looked back out the window. “That other MC was on the way to the clubhouse to shoot up the place. I handled it when I was on the way. Just dumb luck we stumbled onto them.”

“Wowwww,” you blew a raspberry and widen your eyes as saucers. You hated when he was right, it knocked down all your objections. “Lucky that you were on the way then, huh?” You gave him a nervous smile and scratched the back of your head.

“Lucky?” He repeated the word with venom. “You could’ve died!”

“But I didn’t!”

“You disobeyed me!”

It was true, you didn’t listen, but everything worked out in the end. “I know but-”

One of Miguel’s hand grasped your throat hard enough to make breathing a little harder, but not enough to hurt you. He pressed his face against to the side of yours, harshly breathing against your ear. “No buts- you deliberately disobeyed me and if it wasn’t for me coming to get your bratty ass, you would’ve been dead!”

“Miguel, I’m sorry.”

With his other hand, Miguel shoved his hand down your pants. “Oh, you’re about to be sorry, mi vida. I’ll show you what these fingers can do.” His fingers pushed your panties to the side and explored all your wetness. “Shit! You’re loving this, you dirty little slut. I bet if I wanted to, you’d let me finger you in front of all your little Mayan friends.”

You began riding his fingers as he fucked into you. It was too much not to move. Miguel was an expert in your pleasure and knew how to set you off in minutes if that’s what he wanted, and it appeared he wanted you to suffer. “Miguel, pleaseeeeee.” You pleaded with him, grabbing onto his wrist for support.

“Hmm, please what, querida?” He licked the side of your face then pulled your earlobe in between his teeth. “Dime que quieres. (Tell me what you want.)”

“I want to cum. Please Miguel.” You pecked at his lips giving him the chance to devour your lips. “If you want to cum, you’re gonna have to do it yourself.” Miguel murmured against your lips.

Miguel kept his fingers still as you rolled your hips. It wasn’t the same as him pumping his fingers in and out, but you knew there was one way you could get him to participate once again. Keeping your eyes on Miguel, you wet your fingers and let them find your clit. Not even one rub in and Miguel had his hand around your wrist. “Who told you that you could touch what’s mine?”

You bent down and whispered by his ear. “If it was yours, I would be cumming by now.”

Miguel growled and began furiously fingering you and rubbing your clit with his thumb. “Fucking brat! I better not hear any crying from you tonight talking about its too much. You’re taking everything I’m giving you.”

He wasn’t taking it easy on you anymore. Miguel pumped into you as fast as he could while suckling kisses along your shoulder up to his neck. “Te amo, mi vida. But if you ever do something that stupid again, I won’t have any problems locking your ass up.”

Your lips met Miguel’s for a searing kiss. “I love you too, Miguel.”

Taking some of your hair, Miguel moved it to the other side and kissed your neck. “Now cum all over my fingers.”

Your body immediately responded to Miguel’s command, making you leak onto the seat. That sight almost made Miguel unhinged, but he contained himself. The things he had planned for you couldn’t be executed in the back of a car. So, he allowed you to rest until you got back home, where he could teach you a lesson or two about obedience.

--

The thing about certain lessons with you was that they weren’t long-lasting. There was something that always drew you back to your rebellious ways. Tonight, was girl’s night and you were on your way out the door when you heard Miguel’s voice. “Go change.”

You stopped in your tracks and looked back at your husband sitting with Marcus and Nestor. “Excuse me?” Nestor rubbed his hand over his face and Marcus lowly chuckled. Looks like it was about to be an interesting night in the Galindo household.

Miguel put down the report he was reading and focused his eyes on you. “I said go change, mi amor.”

You knew this was a risqué outfit, but you thought if you walked fast enough, Miguel wouldn’t notice. “What’s wrong with this?” You asked, pretending like you damn well didn’t know what was wrong.

The chair scraped against the floor as Miguel backed out of the chair. He surrounded you as a predator inspecting his prey. A lion chomping at the bits to get to his meal. “You are not wearing that out. I will rip it off you. Now go change or you won’t see your friends until the next girls’ night.” He pulled the strap of your top, letting it slap against your skin. As you turned to go up the stairs, Miguel smacked your ass for his victory. It wasn’t very often that he easily won your compliance.

When you came back down, Miguel was much more appeased with your outfit. A simple flowy black tank top replaced the corset bodysuit you had on earlier. He genuinely wished you a good time as you left. Miguel knew that with a couple of drinks in you, you would be primed for some nasty sex later. Little did he know that you had your original top in your purse and had plans to ditch the bodyguards.

A little later that night, Miguel, Nestor, and Marcus went out to a restaurant to take a break from the tedious work. Nestor excused himself from the table when he got a call from the security team. Miguel flagged the waitress down when he saw Nestor pinched the bridge of his nose. It was the same thing he did when he heard you were up to no good. “She ditched the bodyguards?”

Nestor pulled out his phone to show Miguel a video. “Yeah and is having the time of her life.” Miguel grimaced as he fixed his suit jacket. “Let’s go get my wife before I have to fill my church pew.”

—

The lounge you and your girls went to was nice at first, but after the first round of expensive watered-down drinks all of you were ready to go. Especially, since the music wasn’t danceable to. It was $2 everything at one of your old haunts, so that’s where you went. They had the best mix of current and old hits, having everyone vibing.

With all the drinks being $2 and very strong, you were easily drunk enough not to have a care in the world. Unsurprisingly though you were the most coherent (drinking with bikers would do that to you). So, you knew that you shouldn’t have gotten on top of the bar, but you couldn’t give one flying fuck. What was Miguel gonna do? Put you on his church pew? Please, one bash of these eyelashes and you’d be out of trouble.

The dj began playing a set of Megan thee Stallion and you were in your zone. You and your friends were providing entertainment as y’all screamed the lyrics out.

I want to do it ‘cause it’s fun

It’s fun to bad things

(Hood rat shit)

Drive into a car (Ahh)

Didi you know you could perhaps kill somebody?

(Mwah)

Yes, but I wanted to do hood rat stuff with my friends.

Instantly, you and your friends got into your Megan squats and twerked just like the song told y’all. Its been so long since you did it that you almost got scared that your knees would buckle.

Hood rat shit (Huh) with my hood rat friends

(Ayy)

Everywhere we go (Ayy) we be drinking Hen

(Ayy)

Shake that ass, shake that ass, bitch, bounce that shit (Ayy, yeah)

If you weren’t so caught up, you would’ve felt the air in the room change. You would’ve felt the oxygen leave the room, making it harder to breath. You would’ve stopped making random people drive the boat while they had a great view of your cleavage due to your corset bodysuit that you secretly changed back into.

It wasn’t until you felt that overwhelming presence that you noticed your husband next to you. He rested his elbow on the bar and held his chin in his hand smiling up at you. “Oh, hi honey. Funny seeing you here.” You greeted him. Miguel couldn’t reach your hand, so he started rubbing on your ankle. “No, its funny seeing you here in that,” he nodded at your corset. “What happened to your other shirt?” There was no good answer, so instead you bent down and rapped the lyrics to Miguel, playfully having your fingers in his face.

You ain’t from my hood (Huh)

What you doing round here? (Hey)

Asking all them questions (Huh)

You must be the Feds (Ayy)

Better get from round here

Before you wind up dead (Yeah)

The corner of Miguel’s mouth quirked up as he patiently waited for the song to be over. Despite how mad he was, he enjoyed seeing you have fun with just the simple things. And it wasn’t from youthfulness, but from a good heart. That’s what made him love you. The only things you needed was your friends, family, and good times, and you reminded him that was important.  

“Terminada?”

“Yup,” you took his offered hand and jumped down from the bar. He draped your leather jacket over your shoulders and zipped it up. “Really?” Your eyes dipped down to your chest. Miguel cupped your cheek before he kissed it. “Yes, really. Now let’s leave before I have to shoot someone for ogling you too long.” Quickly, you exited the bar. There was no need for anyone to die because of you.

On the way back to your house, Miguel didn’t reveal how pissed he was. He just kept a possessive hand on your denim clad thigh and discussed his plans for the week. He didn’t go into gory detail, but just enough to prepare you for how busy he would be. That was practically a warning. With him being pissed about your activities tonight and pair that with his busy schedule, let’s just say your glad you’ve been focused on your flexibility and stamina.

Finally, at home, the both of you told Nestor and Marcus good night. You headed for your room, but Miguel gripped the back of your neck tightly and steered you to the playroom down the hall. Miguel specifically used this room when he planned to fuck you for hours. Dear lord, this was gonna be a long night.

You knew better than to speak as he sets up the room. Standing stark still you watched as he lit candles, turned on the fairy lights, and set the LED lights a mix of blue and purple. Miguel loved how the blue hue reflected off your brown skin. It highlighted every single thing he loved about you.

When he was finished setting the ambiance, Miguel circled around you until he was standing directly behind you. He said nothing as his hands went to the button of your jeans. His warm breath caressed your neck like a hug, his hands setting fire to your skin as he pulled down your jeans.

A yelp escaped your lips when you felt Miguel’s teeth scrape against your ass. Done with what you were for sure knew were gonna leave marks, Miguel ran his nose along your ass until he reached the crook of your neck. He dug his fingers into your ass while his teeth dug into your shoulder. The pain was welcoming, making you quiver all over.

“Hands behind your back.” Miguel ordered. Soon, you felt the cuffs around your wrists and then the sensation was felt around your ankles as well. “Stay here.” He whispered against your ear.

You watched Miguel swagger to what you called the ‘sex couch’, it was curved to accommodate your bodies, specifically for adult activities. He sat down, legs all wide and inviting while he loosened his collar. Crooking his fingers, he told you to come here.

The heels you were wearing made you the perfect height that Miguel’s face was directly at your navel. He pressed a light kiss there, then he reached up to your shoulders to push you down on your knees.

Unzipping his pants, he pulled out his cock and you were instantly hypnotized. Honestly, Miguel should just whip it out all the time when he wants you to do something. You’ll listen to him…momentarily.

“Aren’t you gonna take off your clothes?” You inquired.

Miguel wrapped his hand around your hair. “No, at least one of us needs to know how to dress. Now, suck my dick. It ain’t gonna suck itself.” Out of nowhere, he pulled out a cigar, lit it and began smoking it, his way of dismissing you.

There was no way you were gonna tease him. From the tension in his body you knew he would snap at any moment. Your mouth engulfed his length, only getting a couple of bobs in until Miguel roughly pushed your head into his crotch and pummeling your mouth with his cock. All of him took up the room in your throat, but it didn’t bother you. You loved that it was you making those moans come out of Miguel’s mouth.

He granted you a little reprieve and let you up for some air. He took one more puff of his cigar before putting it out. His hands went to your corset to pull your breasts out and for a moment he fondles them with interest until he slapped them and twisted the nipples. “Dressed like a fucking whore! Letting everyone see your tits. I should’ve fucked you right on that bar. No one would’ve stopped me.” Miguel’s hand was now around your throat and he pulled you towards his face. “Would you have let me fucked you there? Hmm, be my little whore?”

“Yes daddy! Whatever you want to do to me, you can.”

His other hand found your hair again. “Huh, you’re giving me permission? I know I can do whatever the fuck I want to you because you’re mines. The only one who seems not know this is you. Can’t follow simple fucking instructions. Is it that hard to listen to me?”

“No.”

“Then why don’t you listen?”

The brat in you just had to jump out, you smiled up at him like a madwoman before responding. “Because it’s fun and I enjoy doing hood rat shit.”

Miguel finally snapped. With unknown strength he ripped your bodysuit off your body and threw you onto your stomach on the couch, securing your ankle cuffs to the locks on the couch. Miguel didn’t bother to take off his clothes, you could feel the fabric of his Armani slacks as he pushed into you.

Even though it was about Miguel’s pleasure, it was about yours as well. Every one of his thrust got you closer to your end, but you wanted more. You wanted to touch your husband, you wanted your lips to leave the same marks he was leaving, you wanted to look him in the eye as he called you a slut, whore, and everything in between. “Daddy turn me around. I want to look at you.” You pleaded.

Miguel hips stuttered a bit, he couldn’t believe what his ears just heard. Leaning forward, his clothed chest was against your naked back. “Did you just give me an order? You think you can just get what you want?”

He couldn’t see your doe eyes, but he could hear the sickeningly sweet babied tone you use on him whenever you want something. “Yes, because I’m your baby girl.”

“Be careful what you wish for, baby girl.” Miguel flipped you over, his hand flew to your throat as he thrusted into you. He loved how you tightened around him when his hand found its permeant place on your neck. “So, fucking responsive to me. Tell me how much you love this cock.”

“I love it so much, daddy. I wish you could be in me every minute of the day” you gasped in between thrusts.

Miguel hovered over you and smoothed your hair. “How sweet, kitten.” He mocked you, then spat in your mouth and smeared it over your face, before shoving four of his fingers in your mouth. He chuckled at how your eyes widen. “What? I thought you wanted to look at me?”

You tried to say something, but your words were muffled by his fingers. “Hmm, what was that whore?” Miguel took his fingers out so he could hear you clearly. “Can I cum, daddy? Pretty please.”

Miguel couldn’t deny you anymore. “Since you asked so nicely, you can.” His thumb reached for you clit and rubbed on it until your legs were shaking and your eyes were rolling to the back of your head, but Miguel wanted your eyes on him. He grabbed the back of your neck and rested your forehead on his. “Look at me when you cum!” Once your eyes connected, Miguel reached his own orgasm and coated your walls with white hot cum.

In an instant, Miguel released the cuffs and carried you to the bed while giving you reassuring kisses and declarations of love. Despite your protests, he left to go get the both of you some water and towels to clean up. While he was gone you reached out for your phone that Miguel conveniently placed for you.

You: Sorry, guys I won’t be able to make it to our ride tomorrow. Raincheck?

Angel: I told y’all! I knew Galindo was gonna fuck her up for that outfit.

Coco: Damn! He broke you off that bad?

You: No, he broke me off that good!

Gilly: EARMUFFS!

You: Blame Dumbass #1 and Dumbass #2. Now am I gonna get a raincheck?

EZ: Yes, you will, Angelita. GN.

Knowing that the guys weren’t going to be mad at the fact that you weren’t going tomorrow, you silenced your phone, ignoring whatever argument they would no doubt get into. Instead you waited for your husband to return to continue breaking you off for the rest of the night.

Tagging: @starrynite7114​ @marvelmaree​ @thickemadame​ @woahitslucyylu​ @ifoundmyhappythought​ @chaneajoyyy​ @angrythingstarlight​ @sadeyesgf​ @teakturn​ @dearsamcrobae​ @strawberrywritings​

[sleepychai-fics]

Road to Salvation ~ Chapter 4 - The Proposition

Inform me if I need to put in any warnings for this chapter. ALSO I'd like to apologise for the long break between chapters, life has been hectic and things got out of hand for a bit. Hopefully it wont happen a second time.

Word count: 5,472

Pronouns - Female

ALSO SHOUTOUT TO @doughnuts-5ever​ FOR BETA READING THIS ENTIRE SERIES. I KEEP FORGETTING TO ADD THIS SHOUTOUT CAUSE I POST THESE CHAPTERS AT 1 AM LIKE THE NIGHT OWL I AM. SO BIIIIIIG THANK YOU TO YOU BB, YOU MAKE THIS STORY MAKE SENSE WHEN MY BRAIN DONT

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in BNHA. However, there are many OC’s in this fic that I’ve created. These OC’s belong to me and are specifically created for this fic. 

However, Hajime Shinsou is NOT my oc. He is an oc created by Keiid, who used to have tumblr but now uses twitter. Please keep that in mind.

Feedback is appreciated!

Want to be part of the taglist? DM me or reply to this chapter!

“What do we know about this girl?” Tsukauchi flips open the folder full of papers in front of him, eyes darting across the pages briefly taking in the information.

Aizawa sighs, lifting up one of the papers and reading off of it. “She’s been seen as a vigilante on the streets for a little over two years now. How long she’s been on the streets in general is unknown. Her quirk involves moving objects through shadows. It’s believed she has other accomplices, however we don’t know for sure.” He ends by tossing the paper back in the folder.

Tsukauchi hums. “Is she the one we’re looking for?”

“I hope so.”

“What about her suspected accomplices?”

Aizawa takes out another piece of paper from a different folder. “Our informant tells us she lives with many other people on the streets. Rumors say that the group is the line between villains and heroes.” His tired eyes look over to the police officer. “We’re not sure how to interpret that.”

A groan leaves the officers lips as he leans back in his chair. “We’ll interview her once she wakes up. We can negotiate living conditions with her. Offer her the placement and training in exchange for her compliance and any requests she may ask.”

With a yawn, Aizawa nods. “What do you suspect she’ll ask for?”

“Not too sure. Despite what we have on her, she’s still unknown to us. Our data banks have nothing on her. It’d be your job to get to know her.”

Aizawa groans. “I know that. But I think Hisashi is more up to that task.”

Tsukauchi smiles. “I appreciate you doing this.”

“It was part of the deal. Whisper held up her end, now I need to hold up mine.”

“It’s a big task to hold up.”

Aizawa hums in agreeance. “That’s why I offered a trial period. If she proves worthy to be a hero, then I’ll make it a permanent deal.”

“Whisper has offered to ensure a steady supply of information on other underground personnel if you were to make it a full time deal.” Tsukauchi reminds him.

Aizawa nods. “Are you sure-”

An alarm blares loudly through the speakers, interrupting the two men and instantly raising them on high alert. The conference room doors slam open, a security guard standing at the entrance.

“I apologise for the interruption but she’s escaped her room!”

Aizawa stands up from his chair, almost knocking it over. “Do you know where she’s headed?”

“They report she’s just entering the cafeteria, possibly towards Ward E.”

The two men race out the door, following the guard as he races towards your direction.

~*~

Your senses come back slowly. First, it’s touch. Whatever room you’re in, it’s got a cold atmosphere to it. If you were conscious enough, you’d be clutching to your thin jacket. As the thought crosses your mind, you take note of the feeling of the fabric, definitely not the same kind of material as your jacket. But despite its foreignness, it holds you in strange comfort. However, the feeling doesn’t last long as your hearing starts to kick in.

Two voices - one feminine and the other masculine, speaking in a soft tone. Along with the voices, you hear a steady beeping sound. A heart monitor? You hear it pick up as the rest of your senses come to life. The pungent smell of sanitising chemicals invades your nostrils and has you scrunching your nose in response. One of the voices gasps and speaks to the other. Your eyes are heavy and your body urges you to return to the land of peaceful slumber, but with a strong will, you open your eyelids.

Everything is blurry. Patches of colours hover over your vision before flicking to a mixture of white shades. You hear things shuffle around and clang against metal, only making you work harder at your vision. In an attempt to clear your vision, you rapidly blink your eyes. However, a bright light shines into your eye and forces you to squint. In a burst of panicked adrenaline, you lash out.

From what you can comprehend, you throw out your fist, hitting the figure above you. Ignoring the scream of pain, you jump up out of what you suspect to be a bed and scamper across the floor. You trip into a wall and turn your body around to face the mess you seemed to have caused.

You shake your head and rub at your eyes in another attempt to clear your vision. As it begins to clear, the masculine voice speaks.

“Hey! Let’s calm down. There’s no need to be scared.” You focus on the person closest to you. His hair is a terrible mess of purple. A white coat lays over a blue shirt and brown pants. As your vision clears by the second, you recognise more of his facial features and you can’t help but feel a sense of familiarity. His dark eyes stare at you earnestly, but it’s his eyebags that strike you with an eerie recognition.

You notice his hand cast behind him and you follow it to a woman in similar attire to him, laying on the ground. She has one hand propping her upper body up off the floor, while her other hand covers her lower face, blood seeping in between her fingers.

You return your sight to the man and attempt to speak, however it comes out raspy. After clearing your throat, you try again. “Who are you?”

The doctor responds calmly, making slow movements with his hands as he speaks. “My name is Hajime Shinsou. I know that this seems scary at the moment, but you need to trust that I won’t hurt you.” Shinsou attempts to take a step closer but retracts it as you push your body further against the wall. “You might recognise me, more so my son but let's face it, he’s practically a carbon copy of me.”

Your vision finally starts to clear, enough for you to make out specific features that you’ve definitely seen before. But he’s way too tall from what you can remember. “Why would I recognise you? Your son?”

The slight upturn of his lips doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “A couple days ago, you saved my son from a group of gang members. It was by a karaoke restaurant. He has purple hair, just like me. He even has the same eyebags as me.” As Shinsou goes through his explanation, your memory begins to jog.

“The… the gang. They uhm... they attacked a restaurant and took a kid hostage.” Shinsou nods. “I stopped them and saved the kid.”

“Yes. My son appreciates you. I do too.”

Alarming questions begin to spew in your mind. “How did you know it was me? Where am I? Why am I here?!” Each question grows more desperate as your (e/c) scan the entirety of the room. Thankfully you chose the wall close to the door.

“It’s okay. No one intends to harm you here.”

“Bullshit. Where am I?!” You argue back, glaring at him with irritation.

Shinsou continues to remain calm, despite the growing panic radiating off of you. “You’re in a hospital in northeast Tokyo.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as your eyes widen in shock. “Northeast?!”

With a nod, he responds carefully. “Yes. I understand you may be in shock. But I promise you that I don’t mean you any harm-”

“I want to leave.”

He sighs heavily. “I know, but I’m sorry to say I can’t allow-”

“I want to leave. NOW!” You scream this time, eyes brimming with tears you fight to extinguish. “I can’t be here, I have to leave this place.”

“Why don’t we just sit down and have a calm cha-”

“No! I can’t stay here! I have to leave!” You throw your hands out, intent on using your quirk to push back the doctor. But when that doesn’t work, you falter. “Wha… Why? What happened to my quirk?” A few stray tears slither down your face despite your best efforts. “What did you do to my quirk?!”

“We’ve injected you with quirk suppressants. It was protocol. I’m sorry.” You can hear his genuine apology, but you ignore it through your own raging emotions.

“I’m leaving.”

Hajime nods, knowing there’s nothing else he can do. “I understand. But you have to know I can’t let you go without calling it in.”

You shake your head. “I don’t care.” You leave him no breath to reply, walking towards the door. Before you leave, you snatch a spare white coat from a nearby hook and throw it over yourself.

As the door clicks behind you, you take a moment to assess your surroundings. A window down the hall shows an orange hued sky, although it's difficult to determine whether it’s dusk or dawn. A couple of doctors scatter the large hall, but they’re too busy looking down at clipboards to notice you. You waste no second more before walking down the hall, head tilted down to avoid arousal of your presence.

It’s so foreign, so clean and pristine. Tears are prepared to fall at any moment, but you fight against them. It’s exhausting and horrifying, it’s taking all of you not to bolt out the nearest window.

Every turn you take, every corridor you look down leads you to the belief that you're stuck in a labyrinth. It all looks the same. The room placements, the nurses, the machines littered here and there. Everything is almost the exact same and it scares the living shit out of you.

Finally, after what seems like hours of endless wandering, you come across two double doors. They appear to lead to another part of the hospital. You take a second to glance around you. There’s no other way to go besides through these doors, at least no other way you’ve been able to discover anyway. Without another second to hesitate, you go through the doors.

It’s similar to the place you just came from, except there are fewer private rooms and more public beds. They’re all aligned against the wall and separated by at least a couple of meters. Curtains hang between them, offering visual privacy. More nurses and doctors operate within the space, working with patients and running to various desks.

As you take in the scenery from the doors, you hear a voice call out from your left.

“Hey, are you-?”

You turn to look at the voice, and your heart drops. Realisation dawns on your face the second you notice the security badge. Unfortunately, the guard comes to his own realisation.

The guard opens his mouth wide, probably to yell out, but you don’t give him the chance to. With adrenaline behind your muscles, you push at his chest, forcing him to back into a moving cart. The noise alerts the entire area and within seconds it turns to chaos.

You take off in a sprint down the hall, leaving the sounds of screams and yells behind you. Each turn you come upon, you run to the wall and push yourself off of it, maintaining momentum in your run. As you take another turn, you throw a glance behind you. Security guards are close behind you, as well as a few men dressed in white coats, seemingly doctors aiding in the chase.

An alarm blares loudly throughout the hospital, red lights blinking slowly at every corner. You ignore them all, focused on improvising an escape plan.

As you turn another corner, you're faced with a set of double doors. With no other choice, apart from the army of men behind you, you barge through the doors.

You thank the high being that it's an open spaced cafeteria. More space to run, more visualisation, more shit to throw, and most importantly, fewer hallways to get lost in.

People scream and scatter out of their chairs as you vault over tables. Every chance you get, you flick trays and food behind you in an attempt to slow down those behind you. You make the quick and random decisions to leap over tables to either side of you, making it even harder for the chasers to predict your direction.

However, more men come from the opposite direction and appear a few tables before you. Without thinking, you pick up a tray of food and throw it at them. They throw their arms up to deflect the tray and in turn lose sight of you for just a second.

You take the opportunity to take a sharp turn in the other direction. Unfortunately for you, the only direction left for you to go is through another set of doors that no doubt leads to another maze of hallways.

The second you go through the doors, you duck down, avoiding the few crackling electricity sticks that jab towards you. You slip underneath one, tripping the guy in the process and creating a roadblock of a few seconds.

You bolt to the left, tossing things nearby onto the ground, leaving a maze of objects behind you. Every cart you pass by gets toppled onto the ground and earns you the precious seconds you desire.

You’re so focused on the people around you that you don’t notice thin white cloth wrapping around you. It snaps tight around you before you can even think. Your arms are pinned to your side and your legs are immobilised, causing you to fall flat to the ground.

As soon as you land on the ground, grunting from impact, electricity violently courses throughout you as multiple electrical batons prod at you. You blackout in seconds.

~*~

Your senses return much quicker the second time around. As soon as the bright light enters your eye, you jolt up, scrambling off of the cold metal table.

Pain is the only thing you feel. Pain pumping through your veins and making you shiver from movement. You back yourself against a wall, your hand instinctively curling around your stomach as nausea arises.

Before you are the purple haired Doctor Shinsou and the recognisable dark dressed man with a large scarf hiding his neck. He has a hand on his scarf and knees bent whilst Shinsou has his hands up in a surrendering manner.

“It’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt you.” He says.

You glare at him in disbelief. “Oh really now?” You grimace as you speak, sharp pain erupts from the side of your neck, just below your jaw. When you touch it, you can feel raised, jarred skin.

“You were shocked by 4 electrical batons. That one on your neck is the most severe one because of the skin contact.” Shinsou informs as he watches your hand shake above the wound.

“So much for not harming me.” You scoff.

“Those guys were from a different department.” The unknown man speaks up. “They run on different protocols.”

You spend a few seconds staring at him, watching as he lowers his hands by his side. Recognition prods your mind. “You were the one to capture me.”

The guy breathes in. “For now call me Eraserhead. We’d like for you to join us in the conference room down the hall. We’ll discuss everything there.”

“Why do I get the feeling there’s more than the three of us here?”

Shinsou, having put his hands down to his sides, answers you. “There’s only one more person and he’s waiting at the conference room. No more harm will come to you. Promise.”

You scrutinise his expression. The genuineness of his statement. Despite the short time you’ve talked with him, he seems genuine and reliable. So, on the little info you have, and with the foreign situation you are in, you decide your best bet for now is to trust him.

Shinsou walks out first, gesturing to you with a soft smile. Slowly, you stand up straight and start walking. You suppress the grimace as your leg shudders beneath you, most likely another wound area. With a deep breath, you push through the pain and limp out of the room. Eraserhead follows you closely.

The hallway is quiet, save for a few people here and there whispering to each other. Their eyes drift to you as you walk past them. You can feel their anger towards you and their disgust, you’re thankful the walk through the hallway is a short one.

Shinsou pushes open a door and steps aside to let you in. As soon as you set foot in the room, you analyse the room. It’s completely bare, save for the large oval table and the dozen-plus chairs surrounding it. Seated on one end of the table is a police officer. He has a brown coat thrown over his uniform. A matching brown hat sits on the table in front of him. His black hair is practically melded with his scalp, barely any strands sticking out. Your first impression of him isn’t the greatest and you decide to remain overly cautious.

“Hello.” He greets you as you walk in, almost like he was expecting you at that very second. It unnerves you. He gestures to the chair beside him. “Take a seat.”

You carefully step towards him. “I’d rather stand.” The scratchiness of your voice is still present, but you opt to ignore it.

He nods in understanding. “You can call me Tsukauchi.” You nod once, eyes glaring into his. “I’m sure you have questions.”

“I’m sure you have answers.” You fire back at him with a monotonous voice.

“I do. First I’d like to clear up the situation you're in at the moment. You are in a hospital north-”

“I already know that.” You nod towards Shinsou. “He explained that to me. I’m in northeast Tokyo. I wanna know why I’m here. And how I got here.”

Tsukauchi nods. “We’ve been keeping a close eye on you for a few weeks now. You’re known as the vigilante Shadow, aren't you? You’ve been in and out of activity for years.” Every word that he speaks increases your concern, but you fight to keep your expression neutral. “You’ve taken down thugs and criminals, but you’ve also stolen from civilians off the street.”

“Ok, imma stop you right there. I didn’t just steal from civilians, I also stole from those criminals.”

“You still stole from them.”

“Because I had to.” Your voice grows louder.

“Why?”

“Because-!” You stop yourself. You almost told him about the mall. Taking a deep breath, you start again. “I had to survive.”

It aggravates you the way he nods, as if he understands. “Like I said, we’ve been watching you. We apprehended you because we decided it would be best to approach you.”

“And you didn't try talking first?”

“We tried that. But as you can tell, that didn’t go well.”

Your mouth opens to speak, but you close it, realising he’s right. But another question surges through you. “Ok, then why were an army of police on standby in the area if you just wanted to talk?”

“We predicted your behaviour.” Throughout the entire chat, he’s remained calm and it irritates you to no end.

You scoff and shake your head. “Is there a point to this talk?”

Tsukauchi bends down to pull out a folder. “We believe you have potential.”

Worry sets in. “Potential for what?”

He slides the folder over to you. “Potential to become a hero.”

The room is silent. You stare at him in disbelief, despite your best efforts to keep a neutral face. The silence only lasts a couple of seconds however, as you burst into laughter.

“I’m sorry? Potential to become a hero?! What the actual fuck?! Haha! Weren’t you berating me as a vigilante fucking two minutes ago?” You double both in pain and laughter wheezing and gasping between breaths.

“Yes. Amongst everyone else, I see potential in you.” Tsukauchi waits a few seconds for you to catch your breath. “You’ve shown initiative in criminal activity. You are quick to rush in and protect civilians.”

“That’s because no one else is willing to, and there’s no police around to help them so I choose to step in.”

“Exactly.”

For a few seconds, you’re in deep thought about his words. He’s right. You have shown initiative, but does that really categorise you as a hero? If that's the case, then can’t everyone be a hero?

You look down at the folder on the table. Tentatively, you take a seat next to Tsukauchi, and open the folder.

Concealed inside is a small stack of papers. A small paragraph is printed on each page, addressing you and claiming that you agree to the terms and conditions that follow. On the bottom is a line with your name underneath. As you skin through each page, you come across to a highly detailed table chart.

“By signing these forms, you agree to a temporary deal in which you will live with Eraserhead and follow his rules.” You snap your attention to Tsukauchi, eyes bulging from distress. With a glance towards Eraserhead, who confirms with a nod, you sink further into the seat.

Tsukauchi continues. “You must agree to no vigilante activity whilst in his care. You’ll be monitored every minute of every day as long as you're in his care.”

“That chart in your hands,” Eraserhead speaks up, gesturing to the detailed chart in your hands. You take another look at it, noticing the times lined against each row and the days lined above each column. “It’s a timetable which I’ve set out for you to follow. You do exactly what it says to, and you won’t get charged for any of your vigilante crimes.”

“I’m getting charged?!” You stand up with shock and rage. Tsukauchi and Eraserhead jump to a stand as well. “So you’re saying that I either take up this so-called ‘opportunity’, or I get sent to prison for however long you deem fit? Sounds like a fucking threat if you ask me!”

“Hey, it’s alright. I pro-”

“It’s not alright!” You turn to Shinsou, fighting to keep back the tears building up behind your eyes. “None of this is okay! I’m being stripped of my freedom, all for what? To keep an eye on my behaviour?!” You turn to Tsukauchi, staring him down with a firm expression. “I have responsibilities to uphold.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure they can be put on hold for a while.” He says.

“They can’t!”

Minutes pass by, the tension in the air running thick. You run your hand through your hair, sighing with frustration and surrender before fixing your posture. “What I’m about to say, does not leave this room.”

“If you agree to the contract-”

You snap your gaze to Eraserhead. “If I agree to this contract I will keep up my end. But you have to keep up yours.”

He stares at you for a few seconds before nodding, allowing you to continue.

Your heart thunders in your chest with nerves and irritation. Tears threaten to fall but you remain stubborn as ever. With a deep breath, you let it out. “There is an abandoned mall on the outskirts of Tokyo. It’s where I and a ton of other homeless people stay. We're like a family. We protect each other and help where necessary. There are some people like me who’ve rescued kids from all sorts of situations, and those kids form a bond with us. A bond that acts like a lifeline. It’s their emotional lifeline.” Without noticing, a tear falls from your eye. After furiously rubbing at your eyes, you continue. “It’s impossible for me to leave them. Not while their emotional stability is still fragile. I’m sure you know enough of psychology to understand that.”

The room is silent as the three males ponder your revelation. They look between each other, wondering what to say, what to do with the new information. Sure, there were rumors of more people like you, but to hear the information come from you was different; it was no longer a rumor.

“This timetable isn’t possible for me to follow. I need some time with the mall. I need to let the kids know that I’m still there for them.”

Tsukauchi looks to Eraserhead. “It’s your call.”

Eraserhead sighs deeply as all eyes turn on him expectantly. “I’ll allow a one hour visit two days a week.”

“Three days.” You interject.

Dark eyes glare at you, but you remain stubborn and strong against his eyes. The sigh he lets go of borders on a growl. “One hour visits, three days a week. With supervision.” He enunciated the last sentence, indicating there would be no objections.

Despite your desire to argue, you know it’ll be useless. So, putting on a tough persona, you pick up the contract folder and practically shove it under his nose. “I want that in writing.”

The man remains still, half-lidded eyes staring at you for what seems like hours. It feels as if he’s stabbing you with just his gaze alone. Finally, he snatches the folder out of your hands and slaps it down on the table. He then takes a nearby pen and begins to furiously write on one of the papers. Once scribbling his signature, he steps back, allowing you to inspect his writing.

You do so, ensuring each word says as it's supposed to. Eraserhead holds out the pen to you. After some hesitance, you take the pen and lean down. The pen hovers over the paper. Your heart beats hard, you can feel it in your throat as if it's ready to spew out at any moment. You take a few steady breaths, your hand shaking the pen slightly. One more deep breath, and you put the pen to the paper.

Each letter written feels wrong, incriminating and abandoning. It feels exactly how you expected it; like your freedom was slipping away with each pen stroke.

As soon as you write the last letter, you stand up, the pen falling from your limp fingers.

Tsukauchi takes the folder and pockets it into his briefcase below the table. “I believe Dr. Shinsou wanted to do a last check-up. He’ll also be the one that will be attaching the ankle monitor. We’ll be using that to monitor you.”

You simply nod, the will to argue no longer there. You follow Shinsou out the room, head tilted down in both shame and surrender.

Your mind is numb, barely registering anything said to you. As Shinsou gestures for you to sit atop the examination table, you take notice of the nurse. The same nurse as before, this time with a bandage across her nose.

She appears reluctant to be near you, you can see her hands shake as they reach out to apply the blood pressure strap.

“I’m sorry.” Your apology is quiet but startles the woman. However, a smile eases on her face.

“It’s ok.” She replies, voice slightly hitched due to the bandage. “I would’ve done the same thing.”

The conversation is left at that. Shinsou and the nurse, who said her name was Sakura, do the basics, heart, lungs, eyes, ears. After completing them, Shinsou appears with a steel bracelet with a small box attached to it.

He doesn't get the chance to speak as you lift up your ankle. He peers into your eyes, taking note of the dread-filled gaze that appears to stare at nothing. With a sigh, he carefully clips the bracelet into place.

“Is it too tight?” His only response is a light shrug. He can’t help but feel bad for you. He proceeds to press and hold a button. The device turns on at the action, a small light on the box flicks on as two small beeps sound. As soon as that's done, Shinsou guides you out of the room.

When you step out, you are approached by a long blonde haired male, a gloved hand sticking out towards you.

“Hello listener!” His voice is loud and overly excited, but you barely pay any mind to him. He observes your mute behaviour and turns to his husband. Eraserhead simply shakes his head.

“This is my husband Yamada. You can call me Aizawa.” He says as he walks away.

You follow him without delay, mindlessly pocketing the info.

The drive is silent and tense. You stare out the window the entire trip, watching as the environment passes by. There’s no thoughts running through your mind, nothing to think about but the dread and disappointment of letting the mall down.

You barely register you’ve stopped, so induced in your negativity that you don’t notice that Aizawa is before you, waiting for you to step out.

The house is two stories tall, a small wood fence outlining the property. It’s a fairly modern-looking house, a front porch stretching a metre out the front yard. It’s decently sized, looking to fit a modern family of five.

Entering the house, you register a lounge room and kitchen across from each other from the front house, then straight ahead are stairs leading up to the second floor. Beside that is a hallway which you are told leads to a bathroom and laundry.

Your gaze wanders to the kitchen, where you find a black cat sitting on the bench, staring at you with yellow eyes.

“Oh, that’s Jelly. We have another cat named Muffin, she’s nicer than Jelly, he likes to scratch.” The Yamada explains. His smile drops however as your gaze falls to the floor. “How about I show you to your room?” He gestures upstairs.

You shrug, allowing him to lead you upstairs. He turns down the hall to a room at the end. “Here it is!” He opens the door, his green eyes shining with delight.

You peer into the room, gazing at the layout. A double bed is pressed up against a wall, a small table on each side. A desk lays opposite the bed, small and bare. Sliding doors in the wall indicate a wardrobe. It’s bare of anything and feels completely unnatural to you.

“It used to be a spare room, but now that you’re here it’s all yours! Don’t worry we have another.”

You ignore him and walk into the room, taking a seat on the bed.

“Hey,” His voice is significantly dialled down in both tone and volume as he approaches you. “I know this may seem scary, but we’re here to help you. Aizawa may seem like a blunt and harsh guy, but he’ll come around. Eventually.” He then kneels down before you, a soft smile on his face, his glasses on the tip of his nose. “Technically my name is Aizawa-Yamada but that’s for legal purposes. We’re teachers and figured it’d be easier for the students to separate us. That and Aizawa doesn’t like our relationship to be public information. If you’d like, you can call me by my first name, Hisashi.”

You nod, numbly tucking away the information. You jolt slightly as Hisashi places a hand on your knee.

“Why don’t you get some rest? The drugs from the hospital are probably still in effect.”

With a gentle squeeze, he stands up and exits the room, closing the door behind him. In the end, he was right. You take the time to realise how foggy your mind is and how exhausted your limbs feel.

Having no choice in the matter, you lay down on the bed.

You stare at the ceiling, the silence of the room overcoming your senses. It’s then that everything seems to properly set in your mind. Tears cascade down the side of your face, and you do what you can to silence your sobs.

You told them everything you didn’t want to. Although it gave you something, you still risked the safety of everyone. You may have just caused their demise. All for what? What was the purpose of all this? To become a hero?

Did you want to be a hero? Is it worth all this?

What would everyone think when you visited them? Aizawa would no doubt be supervising you. And if he wasn’t, the device on your ankle would surely broadcast your position.

What else was the device for? Could it hear you? Could it see what you were doing? Could it harm you?

Your mind whirls with unanswered questions, each question that rises allows another tear to fall from your eyes. Sleep comes quickly, haunting you with all of the day's events.

When you wake with a jolt, you wish for it all to be just that. A simple nightmare, something that Dabi could soothe away. But that wish shatters as you look around. The room was too spacious, the view was too pretty, the walls were too new, and the device around your ankle was still annoyingly present.

[missaureus]

CRASH LANDING ON YOU

Number of Episodes: 16

Genre: Romance, Drama

Rating: 10/10

I actually finished this series prior to the quarantine season but let me just include it to the list because I invested so much emotions to it, to the point it left me handicapped.

Crash Landing on You has so much on its plate! Not to mention the controversy it faced, being criticized by the liberal party for romanticizing not their own kind. I truly appreciate how this production served something new to the audience! The disclaimer being rolled before each episode is a reminder how a vast mind can offer so much - a window to let us visually access how the life is in the world's most secretive country, North Korea. Sure, there are already dramas with North Korea as a setting but the overall portrayal of CLoY makes it loved by the general public.

Apart from the reason of casting big actors as leads, how the supporting roles in CLoY are being painted give a big impact to the whole canvas, even the hostiles and the helpless. The side stories are definitely not something to be skipped. Surprisingly, my favorite character is Seo Dan's mom. She exudes peak mom level! Actually, all mother figures radiate strong personalities! Among all, I appreciate Seo Dan's character development the most! She is definitely a revolution herself. Thank you for empowering women on screen! Lastly, the backbone of the story are the best squads in the history of kdrama, the soldier squad and the mom squad ㅋㅋThey are just pure and fun to watch, even their chemistry with Seri is good~

I honestly ran out of expectations from this drama. I was afraid how it is going to end but the greatest takeaway is that, each character reached their own resolution. Probably some might disagree re: Seo Dan and Seung Jun's tragedy. But the second male lead saying: I was wrong. When I die, there’s someone who will cry for me. The fact that it’s you makes me sad and happy. I guess that resolved his own conflict. *criii*

I have so much to say, to be honest because this drama is generous enough with insights. Highly recommended~ People saying this is too overrated need to sit down and repent lol!

ITAEWON CLASS

Number of Episodes: 16

Genre: Drama, Revenge

Rating: 9/10

First episode and it was already dark and bold. The plot caters a pool of societal issues such as class differences, abuse of power/injustices, transgender discrimination, and racism. This drama has a different aura compared to previous works of Park Seo Joon. Even the love story of the leads is not the typical lovey dovey~

The main character's determination to avenge his father's death is scalding hot throughout the episodes. It was as consistent as his hairstyle for years istg. Hard work does not betray, indeed. What struck me the most is when one character, Seung Kwon, who used to be Saeroyi jailmate, crossed paths again after years in the outer world. He narrated how everyone is given the same amount of time but the depth of time one spends is completely different compared to someone who does not set goals and persevere through time to get it.

No wonder how the rating of the show did good since the characters are effectively pulled off despite how tacky each personality is.

HI BYE, MAMA!

Number of Episodes: 16

Genre: Drama, Fantasy

Rating: 10/10

This series stirred the general public for a fact that the one portraying Seo Woo is actually a boy. The enormous attention it absorbed was also due to its heartbreaking storyline. It is not even an exaggeration that there is no episode that would not let you cry. It will give your tear ducts so much work.

It reflects a pool of family values and love. It will make you realize even more no matter what age you have, you will still need your mom. It will make you ponder how death can rob you in an instant. Midong, a shaman in the drama, once said: A woman who lost her husband is called a widow. A man who lost his wife is called a widower. And a kid who lost his parents is called an orphan. But there’s no word for a parent who lost their kid. Know why? It’s because no word can describe it. There’s no word in this world that can describe the excruciating pain. That is too devastating, I can't digest it.

I want to commend the three main characters so much! They deserve a round of applause each. Both Seowoo's moms deserve her. Yuri and Minjung are both selfless and strong, as mothers should be. It's true that being aggressive with their respective decision against the other without feeling sorry could have been done if one is mean towards the other. This drama has no antagonist and it is frustrating that no one can take the blame. Sadly, one mom must be hurt deeply in order to save the other mom. Shoutout to all stepmoms! Not all are evil, stop labeling them as one. Seowoo's dad, Kanghwa, for me, has the hardest character. He has been walking on eggshells. All his life, his shoulders are heavy. He endured so much and embraced unnecessary guilt. His walls are too high that made his relationship with others shaky. He is afraid for people to get hurt to the point being too considerate does not help him at all, making himself his own punching bag.

Hitting the resolution of the story is a painful process but it is the kind of hurt that liberated all characters involved. To be able to point out what went wrong and ungrasping it--- Yuri boldy telling his used-to-be husband "I am not yours anymore. You can let me go now." opened the door to silence the conflicts. Acceptance.

Literally, I cried how the epilogue gave a glimpse of the couple's life if Yuri was able to escape his death note. It only takes a second to change a life-changing event. But reaching the final episode was the real deal for my tear ducts ㅠ I seriously cried 90 minutes straight! I am so satisfied how it is wrapped up. No better ending no matter heartbreaking it is!

HE IS PSYCHOMETRIC

Number of Episodes: 16

Genre: Romantic Comedy, Fantasy, Thriller

Rating: 9/10

Why did I just watch it noW? ㅠ Wow, this is a masterpiece! The plot twist is insane! I love how the truth was unfold throughout the story. It was helluva stressful hahaha. Dark enough. Since I was hungry for an answer, I finished this one almost straight 16 hours!!! If you have watched While You Were Sleeping, which was about someone who can dream about the future, this series is a counterpart. The main lead can see the past by touching a person or object. This unique ability helped him solve cases, especially the event the greatly involved him in the past.

I commend Jinyoung for crying that much! Crazy he has lots of frame that in need of crying ㅋㅋㅋ Rise the flag of actor-idol! He is a natural, to be honest. His character, Ahn's funny antics always got me~ The female lead, Ye Eun has an uncanning resemblance of Yerim, hahaha it awed me while watching~

I am satisfied how it ended. Although I would to see more of their love story but in totality it is a must-watch definitely!

WHEN THE CAMELLIA BLOOMS

Number of Episodes: 40

Genre: Romantic Comedy, Thriller

Rating: 9/10

I love how this is filtered ♡ Very aesthetic that I want to live in Ongsan too! Life for the female lead is too complex. The plot revolves around straightening the strands of conflicts of her life. Dealing with her son who does not want her to have a boyfriend, who is short-tempered and acts maturely to protect her mom; dealing with her boyfriend who loves her unconditionally, who always believes in her and brings out the best of her; dealing with her ex husband, who wants to stand as a father to his child and fill in those years he missed to take care of him; dealing with her neighbors, who speak ill and put her in a bad light at first; dealing with her mother who made her an orphan and came back to her sick; dealing with her secret killer...

This runs for 20 hours and I could not remember the last drama I've watched this long but I savored it without any hint boredom. It ended but I still want mooore. I love how every character is given ample amount of screen time in the last episode. Everyone ended up happily. The went through so much, a happy ending is deserved by all. I was moved. I learned so much about life which is too complex to be completely understood.

Props to Haneul! His loud and vibrant acting is commendable!!! And the post-credit is so heartwarming ㅠㅠ I had a fair share of tears for this drama ㅠㅠ

BECAUSE THIS IS MY FIRST LIFE

Number of Episodes: 16

Genre: Drama, Romance

Rating: 9/10

I had two attempts to successfully finish this series and what a shame it took me this long? This series also moved me so much. It talks about views and opinion about living independently and marriage. Throughout, I was also questioning my decisions in life and effectively made me reflect.

Ji Ho who is 30, who is jobless, who is homeless. and Se Hee holds the answer to her problems. Se Hee who only loves his cat, who only values his house. Apart from having the same interest in beer and soccer, they mutually signed a contract that both benefitted them. Weird. How can you marry someone without involving emotions?

I also love the opposite personalities of the female lead's friends. Soo Ji who does not believe in marriage and described it as a tomb of a relationship. She is strong and independent. She does not take any guy seriously until Sang Goo happened. Ho Rang who dreams of being a housewife and a mother. She desperately wanted to marry his long-term partner because she is already hitting three decades. Sadly, his partner, Wonseok, expressed how he is not that ready yet and still starting to get a stable job.

I love how this drama ended! Heartwarming~

Part 1 | https://daisy-illusive.tumblr.com/post/162383689643

Part 2 | https://daisy-illusive.tumblr.com/post/169033240193

[always-and-forever-a-killjoy]

Hey fuckers! So I wrote this all today and liked it enough to post, please enjoy this minimally edited mess of a fic! But read the warnings carefully!! You also may want to read the other fics in the series to understand this? But it's not super necessary. (First three fics here, here, and here, mind the warnings.) Also shoutout to @wishiwasthemoon-tonight for encouraging my angsty bullshit, for this fic and many, many others.

Title: the last thing i see

Wordcount: 1734

Summary: Cherri Cola has died before.

It’s not a big surprise to him when he dies again.

Warnings: blood, violence, major character death, implied self harm, referenced suicide and suicidal thoughts, and a fuckton of swearing as usual. (How did I fit that all in less than 2k words? Talent.)

Taglist: @wishiwasthemoon-tonight @sleevesareforlosers @stressed-depressed-emo-mess @tasteofamnesia @dagger-queen (message me, send an ask, or reblog/reply to one of my posts if you want to be added or removed)

AO3 Link

(Actual fic under the cut)

Cherri Cola has died before. 

He remembers what it was like, his breaths growing more difficult as the hot sand burnt his skin and everything hurt-hurt-hurt. He remembers how cold the darkness felt, the oblivion it promised. He remembers fighting against it, remembers the fear and the pain and the voice in his head screaming ‘I don’t want to die alone’. The helplessness, he remembers, too, his arms aching from the cuts he put there himself and the way he had forced them to try and drag his weight. Helpless and alone, and scared. He knows what it’s like to die in the desert.

Cherri Cola has died before.

It’s not a big surprise to him when he dies again.

The Girl leaves him by the water cooler, saying she’s going to Dr. D’s for the night. He doesn’t believe her, not after her words at the concert, but Cherri Cola is wise enough to know that he has to let her go. Much as he would like to hold her and protect her forever, he’s already failed to do that when she really needed it. So all he can do now is support her in what choices she makes and not think about how he’s failing to protect her like he failed to protect the killjoys who died to save her.

She doesn’t come back, and Cherri knows he’s already failed. He leaves to help her anyways, that day, when the dreadful news comes that mom and dad are coming home at last. It’s broadcast on every radio station, a cry, a call, a desperate scream for help. 

For the first time in over ten long years, Cherri picks up a ray gun, the weight familiar in his hands. He flicks the safety off, ready to shoot, and flips the switch from stun to kill. Although it takes precious moments he can barely afford to waste, he takes the time to fire a few practice shots before he tucks it away in the holster. He can’t afford for his skill to be compromised at all for this mission- a single slip could cost the lives of many of the young ‘joys of the desert, hardly more than children. So once his ray gun is ready to fire, he pulls on his mask. Die with your mask on if you've got to, just as Dr. Death Defying said all those years ago.

He will die with his mask on, that day.

Cherri arrives to chaos, and he doesn’t hesitate a second before jumping into the fight. Within moments, he can see Motorbaby crouched, looking like she’s been hit by a stun shot as a Draculoid stands over her. There’s not a single second to think, so he doesn’t. He just acts, taking down the drac with a single well-placed shot. Cherri ignores the stares of the ‘joys around him, every ounce of his focus on the Girl.

“Cola?” Her voice is weak, but it’s present, and he breathes a tiny sigh of relief.

“I’ll take care of this.” He’s failed her so many times, he won’t fail her this time.

“Cola, Val killed D. I didn’t get there in time to stop him, I-“ Cherri’s heart breaks at the anguish in her voice as she steadies and goes on. “I shouldn’t have left you like that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” It’s more than okay; it’s his fault, really, but he doesn’t have the time or the words to express that. “Dr. Death Defying will be with our other friends soon. Now stay down!” 

It’s all the reassurance he has time to provide her as plasma bolts shoot past his head. Drac after drac falls to his ray gun, as easily as ever. Killing comes far too easily to him, or did. Now, it’s not quite the same, but he soothes the guilt that rises to choke him with whispers of ‘it’s for Motorbaby’. 

And he hardly has time to think, hardly time to breathe, before the Girl is trying to warn him. “Cola…behind you…”

There isn’t a second to move or dodge as a bolt hits him squarely in the back, and he knows he’s dead. Out of all the ways that he could have died, this one hasn’t been in his head for a long time, now. In his earlier days, in the Analog Wars, ‘in a fire fight’ would be a probable way for him to die, one he thought about often enough that he wouldn’t have been surprised. But by now, he’s been thinking he’ll fall at his own hands, not a scarecrow’s, for long enough that he’s still surprised as he topples to the ground. 

Dying in a firefight is nothing like the ways he’s died before. It hurts, of course it does, but in the detached way that means he’s already dead or close to that. It’s not a slow, painful death, it’s quick and fiery. Pain arcs through him, and he’s dead before he hits the ground. And despite the hint of surprise, he knows that he was never going to survive this fight. Like the Fabulous Four before him, he knew he would die for the Girl.

Cherri Cola dies, and he does not regret it.

The only thing he regrets now is that he can’t be there for the Girl as she stands up- or, rather, her spirit does. The Phoenix Witch scooped his mask off his face, and so Cherri is there too, but she keeps a firm grasp on his soul. There’s nothing he can do, nothing he can say, to the Girl his friends loved so and he loved just as much. They are not in the spirit world, nor even the borderlands, and Cherri is helpless once again. Helpless to speak, helpless to comfort her, helpless to resist as the Phoenix Witch sweeps away with him and countless other souls.

This time, there’s no Newsie to save him. She fell some three years back, and Cherri was not brave enough to quest into the Phoenix Witch’s domain as she did for him. Newsie wouldn’t have been able to save him anyways, he knows. This was his last chance, the Phoenix Witch told him oh-so-many years ago. His last shot at life, granted to him by the love of his sibling.

There may be no Newsie to save him, but when the Phoenix Witch crosses the last boundary of the borderlands where he once stood, there is a Newsie to welcome him. 

They laugh, presumably at his stunned face, running over to give him a tight hug with a “Finally, fucker!” 

“Newsie? Newsie, I’m sorry-“

“Why the fuck are you apologizing? You’re finally fucking here!” Newsie freezes. “Cherri, you didn’t-“

“I died fighting Better Living Industries,” he promises.

“Oh thank fuck. How is it out there?”

“Bad, Newsie, it’s bad. Motorbaby is alive, which is a ray of hope, but some asshole named Val killed D-“

“Oh, yeah, we know. He showed up and immediately started giving Pone shit for making the afterlife glittery.”

“I don’t understand it!” Dr. Death Defying is there, all of the sudden, looking quite distressed. “How do you even make the spirit world glittery?”

“Ey’s Pony, D.” Cherri can’t help but smile. “Ey can’t just not glitter-ify places.”

“That’s because I’m the gayest Pony in the desert!” Show Pony flashes him a smile as ey skates up.

“Sure are, Pone,” Cherri says softly.

Next is Hot Chimp, grinning as she gives him a small wave. “Hey, brother-in-law.”

“Hey, sister-in-law. Nice to see you again."

And finally, four familiar figures who he hasn’t seen in far too long step out, looking exactly how he last saw them but minus the grim determination. Instead, Party Poison is grinning as Kobra Kid gives him a small nod, and Jet Star’s gentle smile is just as wide as Fun Ghoul’s toothy grin.

“I’m sorry,” Cherri tells them.

“We forgive you,” Poison says with surprising gentleness. “We never resented you much to begin with, even if you are an insufferable bastard. We’d never ask you to die for us.”

"I would have." It's important that they know that; he never go to tell them when they were alive.

"We knew that." Poison cracks a small grin. “Pepsi.”

Cherri isn’t even sure if ghosts can cry, but they must be able to because his cheeks are wet and words suddenly seem very difficult as he takes a few shuddering breaths.

“Oh Witch, I think I broke Pepsi,” Poison mutters. 

Newsie flips them off and gives Cherri a playful glare. “Come on, don’t start crying now, asshole! We’re finally all here, or mostly, anyways!”

That only makes him cry harder, burying his face in his hands just as he did the day the Fabulous Four died. It's been a long time since he's cried like this, utterly vulnerable but happy for once, a bittersweet cry as opposed to one of sheer pain.

As it turns out, ghosts can’t only cry, but also hug, and Cherri finds himself wrapped in so many sets of arms he can’t even tell whose are whose. He thinks it’s Newsie’s shoulder that his face ends up buried in, is pretty sure that the hands rubbing his back are Jet’s, but he really doesn’t know. It doesn’t really matter, in the end, because he’s here with his family and that’s all that really matters.

Later, they’ll trade tales of what happened while they were all apart and Cherri will tell the Fabulous Four everything about the Girl he can remember, from her cat to the fight with the exterminators. He’ll pretend not to notice Poison sniffling or how choked Ghoul’s voice is, and they’ll pretend not to notice how his voice breaks when he talks about the day they died.

Newsie and Hot Chimp will update him on all the ‘tea’ of the land of the dead and how Newsie almost punched the Phoenix Witch, and D will give him a surprisingly (given the fact  that they’re both dead) warm hug, and promise that it’s not his fault for failing to stop Val. And of course, Show Pony won't let him get away without a little bit of shittalking his fashion sense and catching up on what's happened since eir death.

But all of that will come later. For now, Cherri’s family holds him tightly, and that’s all Cherri needs.

[bookaficionado0917]

To preface this review, I’d like to first shoutout the author Brit Bennet! For those who may not know, Bennet’s a two time New York Times Bestselling fiction author and the recipient of multiple writing accolades. She has written for multiple magazines, such as The New Yorker and Paris Review. You can visit Brit Bennet’s site to learn more about her at https://britbennett.com/.

The Vanishing Half, the sophomore book of Brit Bennett, is a fictional tale about a set of twins, Desiree and Stella Vignes, who, despite being inseparable as children, end up living very different lives. As alluded by the title, one twin stays true to her heritage living as a Black woman while the other decides to abandon all she knows to pursue a life of contentment by passing as a white woman. Through their choices, the book explores just how impactful race can be in every facet of one’s life.

The story shifts between decades and states, beginning in Mallard, Louisiana in the 1950’s. Mallard is an interesting town, not just because it doesn’t show up on any maps — not even because it’s named for a type of duck — but because all the residents are considered “Colored” even though they may appear as white as a kernel of rice. The history of the small town where the twins are raised has everything to do with the way they perceive race. Their maternal great great great grandfather, Alphonse Decuir, founded the town in 1848 as a place for the mixed former enslaved to inhabit (he himself is the son of his former slave owner from whom he inherited the land to make Mallard) with the goal of each generation becoming lighter in complexion in a bid to become more than a simple Negro but always understanding that they were not white.

The town is full of these lightly pigmented individuals who live at a disadvantage to their neighboring white counterparts. For example, the twin’s mother, Adele Vignes, is a housekeeper to a wealthy white family while their father is a carpenter who meets a horrendous fate because he outbids a white man for a job, which the twins witness. Desiree and Stella eventually decide to leave Mallard after their mother tells them to drop out of school and help pay bills when they turn sixteen. Each twin has her own reason for wanting to abandon the color struck town, but the lynching of their father is the catalyst to their journey.

While the twins run away together to New Orleans, it is also in New Orleans where they separate. Stella becomes enamored with the idea of passing — pretending to be white– and when the opportunity presents itself, she high-tails it out of the city leaving Desiree behind with no forwarding contact information or even a proper farewell.

The driving force of the book is Desiree’s decision to flee an abusive husband and return to Mallard with her daughter Jude in tow. Jude is the complete opposite of her mother in terms of temperament and even her physical appearance; where Desiree is headstrong, expressive and fair of skin, Jude is pensive, quiet and dark. Jude is so dark in fact, she is often described as “blueblack.” Desiree becomes reacquainted with an old time courter of hers turned bounty hunter, Early Jones, and rekindles the old flame while also asking him to help find her long lost sister. Her deep desire to find her twin sets in motion the plot of the book.

The main focus of the story is how the sisters navigate their lives through the lens of racial disparity. Desiree, even though she has qualifications to read fingerprints, is not allowed to do so in her hometown simply because she is a woman of color. She settles into life as a waitress in Lou’s Diner. She tries her best to keep Jude as happy as can be, but has no idea the amount of torment the other children bestow upon her daughter simply for having a darker skin tone. Jude becomes a quiet but strong woman who departs Mallard to attend college in California on a track scholarship, but unknown to her, this is where she stumbles upon her estranged aunt and cousin.

There are many parallels in the book which plays into the two halves making a whole motif. Both twins mother daughters with the temperament of their twin. Jude leaves Mallard as soon as she’s able, much like her mother before her. Similarly to how her mother moved to a new city and finds a husband, Jude finds love in Reece, a transgendered man as well as a family in Reece’s drag queen friends. Jude also bears the brunt of her mother’s desire to find her estranged aunt Stella, but she is driven and goal oriented like her aunt. Kennedy, Stella’s daughter, is a free spirit, bad at school, with no sense of direction and desperately yearns for her mother’s approval. Kennedy is like Desiree in that she expresses herself freely and does what she wants to do regardless of what others have to say about it.

The book does well to illustrate what both Stella and Desiree have each gained and lost in this transaction of forfeiting a life. Desiree may have been relegated back to her hometown, living without much money or fanfare, but she is happy and has love, whereas Stella has nice dinner parties, a house in a rich neighborhood, and lots of friends, but she is a hollow version of herself. Even though the twins end up living very different lives based on their race and choices, their lives still mirror each other almost perfectly. I am a big fan of Brit Bennet! Her first novel, The Mothers, solidified her as a favorite author of mine because I love how she can tell a story through clear language, but still allows the reader’s imagination to run wild; it also helps that her subject matter is very Black. As a Black woman, I appreciate her honest portrayal of Black culture and understandings in her work. The Vanishing Half is an excellent exploration of the question, if given the chance would you choose an easier life if it meant forgoing everything and everyone you once loved? It is honest in its discussion of race, although I wish sometimes it was a little less so when it came to her darker skinned characters, such as Jude’s father being a portrayal of how people view dark skin men (i.e., negatively), but there’s redemption in Jude although her life is not easy either due to her skin tone. Bennet writes so concisely and methodically but doesn’t forsake the use of metaphors to paint vivid imagery on the page. The writing makes this story one that is easy to consume in one setting. I also appreciate how The Vanishing Half brings a modern day understanding of what it means to pass. Another fictional book on the subject, which I read and enjoyed, was Passing by Nella Larson.

If you’d like to read the book, please check out your local bookstores and libraries first! Otherwise you can purchase the book at Amazon, Target, Barnes and Noble, IndieBound, Books-a-Million, Hudson, Walmart, and iBooks.

[wullu]

Signal - A Review

B4 we get down to business and I vomit my feelings, to anybody who chooses to read this and check out Signal, know that the drama does not pull any punches. There’s a fair amount of violence, murder, death, blood etc.

If you are squeamish like me, proceed with caution. :)

Um also, if you are the kind to cry ( like me), every episode is going to leave you in tears. So yeah, look out for that too. And look out for spoilers as well in the review!

Tbh I checked out Signal on a whim. I think I did it because I was on episode 11 & 12 of Tunnel and was annoyed with the direction Tunnel was taking. I had read that Signal some time-travel aspects like Tunnel and since I’m a sucker for time-travel, check it out I did.

And boy oh boy was my interest rewarded.

Signal was gripping from start to finish. The pace never let up, not even once. Sometimes in dramas, a big tragedy happens, and the next few episodes after the tragedy are devoted to some rest and happiness. But that was not the case with Signal. Signal just kept moving. It’s kind of like how it is in real life. You experience hurt and pain, but the world dosen’t stop around you. It keeps going on.

I will not lie, Signal was hard to watch. Many a time, I hit pause because either I was crying too hard or because it was too painful for me to continue. And normally when a drama or show plays me like this, you can bet your butt I would have dropped it like a hot potato. But I kept going back to Signal, episode after episode and steeling myself to watch, simply because it was that good. Despite its violence and blood, nothing about Signal felt senseless or tasteless. Everything felt very matter of fact instead. Signal makes no bones about the fact that it’s a bleak world we live in. You win some, you lose some. And justice cannot be served to everyone. The world is unfair. There are no neat-bow-tied endings for everyone. For instance, I wanted Kim Bum Joo to get his grand compeuppance. But it made for him to die in a gang lynching, like an insignificant person, with no one to see it happen. That ending was satisfying in a way as well. He died as insignificantly as a person could, all his deeds having come back to bite him in the butt.

But despite all of this, it made the little moments count. Like the moment tiny Hae Young thanked Jae Han so profusely for clearing his brother’s name. Or like the time Soo Hyun and Jae Han’s father got to send him off like he deserved. Or the time when all Jae Han and Hae Young wanted was for the other to be safe and happy, screw everything else. For all the terrible things that happened, that truly shook your faith, there were plenty of heart-warming moments as well that made you believe that it would all be okay.

-

Signal had such solid writing, editing and directing. Which was one good thing. The other good thing was the cast. An excellent, solid cast, the kind who can handle the heavy punches the script threw their way. And it was not just the main leads who did a great job. Even all the supporting characters did an amazing job. Heck, even the guest actors knocked it out of the park.

I feel its rare that so many good elements can combine in a drama. Something like all the stars aligning. It is rare, but it does happen.

If I had to pick one performance that moved me, it would have to be Jo Jin Woong as Jae Han. How many times have we all felt like Jae Han? Desperate to do something but bogged down by forces bigger than us. But despite everything, Jae Han preserved and there’s something so tremendously admirable about that.

Jae Han is an ordinary chap like most of us. But it was his determination and spirit more than anything else that elevate him as a hero. Jo Jin Woong made me feel every emotion along with him deeply. When he wept, wept. When he raged, I raged. When he was happy, I was happy.

As Hae Young realises, when everyone else had given up, it was Jae Han who kept going on. Jae Han never gave up. How can you not love someone like that?

I also really enjoyed Kim Hye Soo as Cha Soo Hyun. She did a brilliant job of differentiating herself between two timelines. You can see the exact circumstances that led to her going from a rookie cop to a an experienced and determined detective. And it was deeply touching to see that she too hadn’t given up on Jae Han. He’d been so instrumental in shaping her as the person she currently is, how could she give up on him?

Similarly, Lee Je Hoon as Park Hae Young was amazing. Over time, you can see that he’s no superhero. He’s just as human as all of us. But the one thing that makes him stand out is his tenacity, just like Jae Han’s. And even though he’s never met Jae Han, he comes to know enough of the person he is to deeply admire him and respect him. And from Jae Han he’s learnt one more thing, to never give up. That scene where he realises that Jae Han took care of him from a distance as a little boy broke my heart. It was so bittersweet because Hae Young thought he had been all alone. But in retrospect, there was someone who took care from a distance. So in the end, even when he’s on the verge of death, it makes complete sense all he can focus is helping the one person who looked out for him when no one else did.

Now, shoutouts to the supporting actors who I really liked. Lee Sang Yoeb was a revelation. It was a short role, but his scenes made a lot of impact on me. He did an amazing job of playing a person who’s been warped by years of abuse. You know he’s done horrendous things but when you see his backstory, you can’t help but weep for the boy who could have been.

Oh Yeon-ah was another person who absolutely blew me away. She too played a killer like Lee Sang Yoeb. But while he was a person who became a monster, she was always a monster from the start. Her acting was absolutely spine-chilling. That blank empty gaze, the completely lack of remorse, she did an amazing job of portraying a narcissistic villain. You know how sometimes actors play up villains to be hammy, right? Oh Yeon-ah didn’t have to do anything of that. Instead, she relied on mirco-expressions and a complete lack of emotion to pull it off. She did a great job of being absolutely evil without having to resort to maniacal laughter or crazy eyes. Her dead eyes did the job.

Um, also the cutie who played tiny Hae-young. He did a great job as well. His heart-rending cries for his brother made me cry so many snotty tears. Losing a dear one is never easy. But when that dear one is the sibling/parental figure and only bright spot in your world, the loss must be even worse. The child actor did a great job. Every time he cried, I just wanted to wrap him up in a hug.

This review would not be complete if I did not mention the soundtrack. I have two words for it. Fucking amazing. The soundtrack was simply perfect in every which way, a perfect companion to such an amazing drama. Each song, somber and melancholy in tone, perfectly setting the mood for the show.

In conclusion, 10/10, watch the drama. It will be hard, you will cry, but it will stick with you long after you are done with it. And that is the hallmark of a truly amazing drama.

P.S – And if it’s not your thing, don’t fret. Different strokes for different folks. :)