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james-joyces-right-eyeball · 3 years

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Absolute Favorite Books I’d Recommend to Anyone

This is a list of my top-tier favorite books that I would recommend/talk about endlessly to pretty much anyone (in no particular order). I know people probably don’t care but I just like talking about books I love so here we are.

Beloved - Toni Morrison

~ Based off the real story of Margaret Garner, a slave woman who escaped slavery and when captured killed her child in order to prevent them from ever being enslaved again, Beloved tells the story of a mother named Sethe, born in slavery who eventually escaped and is haunted by the figurative demons of her trauma and the literal (arguably) ghost of her dead daughter, who she herself killed. It is an excellent exploration of the horrors of slavery and of the haunting legacy of the institution for those who were subjected to it.

Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov

~ If you’ve been on Tumblr for a while, you probably know what Lolita is. The story of the predatory Humbert Humbert who lusts after, rapes, and kidnaps the “nymphet” Dolores Haze. An excellent construction of how predators, unreliable narrators in their own right, hide behind fabrications, almost-believable excuses, and pretty words to make their actions seem maybe not so bad. In the words of the book itself, “You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style.”

Ulysses - James Joyce

~ Notoriously one of the most difficult books in the English language, Ulysses lifts its structure from Homer’s Odyssey to tell the story of a common man, Leopold Bloom, as he goes about his day. Yes, this book takes place over the course of only one day. We follow Bloom as well as Joyce’s literary counterpart Stephen Daedalus through their thoughts and actions, gathering details of their lives previous throughout. It’s a book that, in my own words, “is life”. It is sad, funny, strange, vulgar, disgusting, beautiful, revelatory, sensual, and nonsensical all at once. Joyce aimed to create a reflection of life through his stream-of-consciousness style which some people might find confusing, but I personally find absolutely beautiful and honest and realistic. The prose is also gorgeous, but that could be applied to everything Joyce wrote.

Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte

~ The classic gothic book that tells the tale of Heathcliff and his ultimately destructive love of Catherine Earnshaw, whose eventual marriage to someone else and the general mistreatment of him by her family drives Heathcliff insane and he spends the rest of his life trying to take revenge by abusing and torturing the next Earnshaw and Linton (the family into which Catherine marries) generations. If I’m being honest, I like this book mostly because of how wild and dark it is, but the writing is also genius and beautiful. I think the book also carries an interesting view of the destructive nature of revenge, overzealous love, and othering.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn - Betty Smith

~ A coming-of-age story at the turn of the century that tells the story of Francie Nolan, a young bookish girl growing up in a lower class family in New York City. It tells about her father’s struggles with alcoholism as well as her mother’s struggles to deal with that and at the same time raise Francie and her brother. Francie is confronted with a strange, uncertain world as a young girl, but tries to face it with bravery throughout childhood

Little Women - Louisa May Alcott

~ Another coming-of-age story, this time about four young sisters: Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy March. You are probably familiar with this book already; it’s had more movie adaptations then I can possibly remember off the top of my head. It’s the story of four sisters as they try to navigate growing up, love, and loss during the mid to late 1800s.

The Color Purple - Alice Walker

~ A novel that tells the story of Celie, a young black woman who is raped and then married young to a man who will go on to use and abuse her, through her letters to God. Throughout the novel she meets Shug Avery, a woman with whom she eventually falls in love and begins a relationship with. Through this and her eventual freedom from her abusive husband, she is able to gain at last her own sense of self and take back control over her life, a life no longer ruled by the abusive men around her.

The Bluest Eye - Toni Morrison

~ The tragic story of young black girl Pecola Breedlove, who wants nothing more than to have blonde hair and blue eyes just like the women she sees in the movies. Both a deconstruction of the whiteness of beauty standards as well as how these standards can utterly destroy vulnerable young girls, it is also an exploration of the people who allow these sorts of things to happen, including Pecola’s mother and father. The Bluest Eye, I think, showcases one of the aspects of Toni Morrison that I like the most, that I aspire to the most: her ability to enter the minds of all people, even people who you might despise at first. Her characters, especially Cholly in The Bluest Eye, are ones you might not entirely sympathize with, but they will always be ones you understand.

The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath

~ Based off of the author’s own experiences as a young college student, The Bell Jar tells the story of Esther Greenwood, whose depression over her place as a woman in a patriarchal society as well as her inability to choose a life path for herself leads to a suicide attempt and a subsequent stay in a mental hospital. A very nuanced portrayal of mental illness, especially anxiety and depression, The Bell Jar is an extremely moving and relatable story for me and clearly is as well for others. It is a classic for a reason.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings - Maya Angelou

~ A memoir of Angelou’s childhood, this book tells the story of her experiences living as a black girl in the south with her grandmother and brother as well as her later years living with her mother. It also tells of how she was raped by her mother’s boyfriend when she was around eight or nine, and how she struggled to live with that and find her voice, both literally and figuratively. A wonderful book about overcoming struggles and the power of words and literature in such times.

Invisible Man - Ralph Ellison

~ Ellison’s novel tells the story of a young black man, never getting a name in the text, and his feelings of invisibility and his struggles to find a place in society to belong. His struggles only lead him further into despair, until he decides to “become invisible” as people seem not to see him as a person anyway. Invisible Man is an exploration of American mid-century racism and the isolation it causes to those subjected to it. Not only that, but it is surprisingly relevant to our times now, especially on the subject of police violence. (Personal anecdote: When I first read this book, when I got to the aforementioned police violence part it was right in the middle of the BLM resurgence last summer and I cried for a good twenty minutes while reading that chapter over how nothing had changed and it still hurts me to think about it. Embarrassingly, my dad walked in on me while I was crying, and I had to quickly explain it away.)

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man - James Joyce

~ The title basically says it all lol. This book tells of the coming-of-age of Stephen Daedalus (the same one from the later-written Ulysses). His sensitive childhood, his awkward and lustful adolescence, his feelings of Irish nationality and Catholic guilt, and his struggles to fully realize himself, both as an artist and a human being. It is a very hopeful story, and one that I love mostly because I relate so much to Stephen Daedalus as an artist and as a person.

One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

~ A magical-realist intergenerational family drama, Marquez’s book traces the various lives and loves of the Buendia family over the course of (you guessed it!) one hundred years. A beautifully written, at times extremely emotionally moving and chilling masterpiece, Marquez in a way retells the history of Colombia, of its colonization and exploitation.

Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy

~ A classic Russian novel of society and love, Tolstoy tells the story of Anna Karenina, married, wealthy woman with a child she adores. However, she falls in love with another man, Count Vronsky, and comes to a tragic end for her love. The parallel story of the novel is that of Konstantin Levin, a wealthy landowner who also struggles to find fulfillment in his life and understand his place in society.

The Sound and the Fury - William Faulkner

~ A novel that features an entire family of unreliable narrators, The Sound and the Fury details the fall of a once-prominent southern Compson family and always-present place of the past. There are four different narratives: Benjy Compson, a mentally disabled man who is unsure of his surroundings and of time and only knows that he misses his older sister Caddy; Quintin Compson, the eldest son and a Harvard man both obsessed with his sister retaining her “purity” and the fact that she failed to do so and had a baby out of wedlock, going as far to claim it is his baby in an attempt to preserve something of the family reputation; Jason Compson, who is the caretaker of Caddy’s daughter and believes her to be going down her mother’s “sinful” path; and Dilsey, the black maid of the Compson’s who unlike the people she cares for is not weighed down by their history. The narratives take place in different time periods and is in a stream-of-consciousness style. It’s a deeply dark and disturbing novel about the haunting nature of the past, a common theme in Faulkner’s work (see Absalom, Absalom! for more of this).

Song of Solomon - Toni Morrison

~ It is the story of Milkman Dead, a young black man growing up in the south and his relationship with his very complicated family. To say anymore would be to spoil the novel, but I will say that it is an excellent book about family, self-fulfillment in a world that tries to deny you that, and, like The Bluest Eye, exhibits Morrison’s excellent character work.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof - Tennessee Williams

~ A play which takes place on the patriarch of a family’s birthday in the oppressive heat of the midsummer south, Williams’ play explores lies, secrets, and how repression only results in anger, frustration, and sadness. It’s a tragic but brilliant play that I think was very ahead of its time. If you’ve read it (or do read it) then you know what I mean.

Giovanni’s Room - James Baldwin

~ This book tells the story of a young man and his love of another man named Giovanni while he is in Paris. It is a book about love, queer guilt, and has what I would call an ambiguous ending. There is uncertainty at the end, but there does seem to be some kind of acceptance. It is a bit of a coming-out story, but more than that it is a story of personal acceptance and at the same time a sad, tragic love story.

HERmione - H.D.

~ An underrated modernist masterpiece, HERmione is a somewhat fictionalized account of the author, Hilda Doolittle’s, experience as a young aspiring poet dating another poet (in real life Ezra Pound in this book named George Lowndes) who is a threat to her both physically and emotionally. It explores her own mental state, as she considers herself a failure and falls in love with a woman for the first time (Fayne Rabb in the book, Frances Gregg in real life).

To the Lighthouse - Virginia Woolf

~ People think about going to a lighthouse. They do not. A couple years and a war passes then they do. That may seem like a boring plot, and you may be right. However, To the Lighthouse is not much about plot. It is more about the inner lives of its characters, a family and their friends, on two different occasions of their lives: one before WWI and one after WWI. Woolf explores in this novel the trauma that results from such a massive loss of life and security. Not only that, she also explores the nature of art (especially in female artists) in the character of Lily Briscoe and her struggles to complete a painting. It’s a short novel, but it contains so much about life, love, and loss within these few pages.

The Heart is a Lonely Hunter - Carson McCullers

~ A southern gothic novel about isolation and loneliness in a small town. Every character has something to separate them from wider society, and often find solace and companionship in a deaf man, John Singer, who himself experiences a loneliness that they cannot understand. There are various forms of social isolation explored in this novel: by race, disability, age, gender, etc. A wonderful, heart-wrenching book about loneliness and the depths it can potentially drag people to.

The Waste Land - T.S. Eliot

~ A modernist masterpiece of a poem, Eliot describes feeling emptiness and isolation. The brilliance of it can only be shown by an excerpt:

“Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither Living nor dead, and I knew nothing, Looking into the heart of light, the silence.”

“The river’s tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf Clutch and sink into the wet bank. The wind Crosses the brown land, unheard. The nymphs are departed. Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song. The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers, Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette ends Or other testimony of summer nights. The nymphs are departed. And their friends, the loitering heirs of city directors; Departed, have left no addresses. By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept . . . Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song, Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long. But at my back in a cold blast I hear The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear. “

(My personal favorite line from this poem is, “I will show you fear in a handful of dust.”)

The Trial - Franz Kafka

~ The protagonist of the novel, Josef K., wakes up one morning to find that he has been placed under arrest for reasons that are kept from him. Kafka creates throughout the novel a scathing satire of bureaucracy, as K. tries to find out more about his case, more about his trial, but only becomes more confused as he digs deeper. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to the world he lives in, and the more tries to explain it the further the more that proves to be the case. An excellently constructed novel and a great one to read if you would like to be depressed about the state of the world because, though Kafka’s work is a satire, like a lot of his other work, it manages to strike a strangely real note.

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead - Tom Stoppard

~ An absurdist play that is a retelling of Shakespeare’s Hamlet from the perspective of minor characters, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, who in the broad overview of the original play, do not matter. Throughout the play, they question their existence and the purpose of it and through that Stoppard dissects not only the absurdity of life, but how fiction and theater reflect that absurdity inadvertently.

As I Lay Dying - William Faulkner

~ The novel details the journey the Bundren family makes after the death of the family matriarch, Addie, to bury her. Each chapter offers a different narrative from the family members and those who surround them, revealing some ulterior motives to them “going to town” to bury Addie. The patriarch Anse desires a pair of false teeth, and the daughter Dewey Dell is pregnant and needs an abortion, as there is no way for her or her family to support it. It’s about the powerlessness of people in the impoverished south. The Bundrens are constantly subject to forces beyond their control, struggles which would be easily solved if they had the money to spare for it. There is more to the book, but that is my favorite reading of it, that of class. Faulkner’s ability to create distinct voices for every one of his characters shines through here.

And, last but not least:

The Collected Poems - Sylvia Plath

~ All the poems Plath wrote during her tragically short lifetime. The best way to demonstrate or summarize the book’s brilliance is just to show you. This is her poem “Edge”, which appears in the book:

“The woman is perfected. Her dead Body wears the smile of accomplishment, The illusion of a Greek necessity Flows in the scrolls of her toga, Her bare Feet seem to be saying: We have come so far, it is over. Each dead child coiled, a white serpent, One at each little Pitcher of milk, now empty. She has folded Them back into her body as petals Of a rose close when the garden Stiffens and odors bleed From the sweet, deep throats of the night flower. The moon has nothing to be sad about, Staring from her hood of bone. She is used to this sort of thing. Her blacks crackle and drag.”

HOPE YOU ENJOYED! HAPPY READING TO ALL!

#dark academia #books and literature #toni morrison #james joyce #tennessee williams #virginia woolf #william faulkner #sylvia plath #plays #poetry #can you tell i like southern and modernist lit lol?

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missfluffywriter · 4 years

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Purple Irises I Mafia Park Jimin x Reader

Author’s note: Ooof it’s finally out. That took way longer than I expected. And I’ll be breaking this chapter into two pieces. I hope you don’t mind. I have to say I did a lot more research than I thought I would, just to say but everything I’ve written are pretty accurate, emphasis on pretty. Of course not everything, and I can never really be sure of the medical stuff, cuz you know I’m not a doctor. lolol. Well, that’s it for me. Happy readings!

Word count: 10.9k

Genre: Mafia AU, (slight) Doctor au, (slight) Florist au

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

(Series) Summary: You were supposed to be delivering flowers, how did you end up in an operation room digging out a bullet from a mafia boss’ shoulder?

Purple Irises: Royalty and wisdom

Warnings: Guns, language, mention of drugs, inconsistant grammar lol

Previous chapter I Next chapter I Masterlist I Requests are open!

“If I hadn’t sent (Y/n) when I did, your boss would be six feet under right now,”

Nearly three days had passed since the ball and yet Soomin’s toneless voice continued echoing through your head. Ricocheting from one corner of your mind to another, there were instances where the voice would dull to a soft whisper but never was it gone, not for an instant. Her words ring in your head yet you don’t know why. You were not angry with her, not at all; as a matter of fact, you felt no such anger or animosity towards your former boss. Neither did you feel betrayal or despair.

Originally you thought you felt nothing towards the situation, but that wasn’t exactly correct. What you had truly felt was apprehension, you did not understand a situation you were brought into or the reason behind your arrival. Was there a reason as to why you were forced into this world? Was there a role you were meant to play in Ji-Eun Duri’s game? Were you brought into this to serve a purpose? And if you were, then what about after that purpose has been fulfilled? What then? And if you weren’t, then why were you here?

There were more questions than answers, and every time you thought you were close to an answer, more questions arose. You weren’t used to this, more questions than answers; usually, you would at least have some semblance of understanding of what you were getting into, but this? You had nothing. You didn’t like the feeling of being left in the dark, and you absolutely despised the episodes of hopelessness that seared through your chest. Like you couldn’t do anything, you didn’t have enough information to take either defensive or offensive action.

However, the negatives aside, you also couldn’t deny the buzz in your system. A low hum of excitement, like expecting the unexpected, similar to a game of tag played in a sea of darkness. And though you had your bouts of helplessness and self-doubt, those thoughts only worked to fuel your imagination, your instinct for survival, and your drive to win. When you felt helpless your mind would create a thousand different scenarios, predicting the flow and outcome of each one. Thus, creating a skeleton of a plan so if the scenario should occur, you had some idea of your future movements.

And when you felt self-doubt you would think up back-up plans to any what-ifs that came to mind. If you were feeling uncertain of any of your plans or ideas you would test as many scenarios that would come to mind, asking others for their input regularly; what would they have done? Why would they have done what they did? Was there a better way to achieve what they were planning or warning for?

You would spend the time restlessness took hold to prepare for whatever future that may come. Because that was all you could do, prepare, and prepare the best you could. Besides, you felt a bizarre sense of gratitude towards the female responsible for your current predicament. If it weren’t for her you would have never been involved in this dangerous world, but above that, you would have never met Jimin or Jin, or Jeongguk, or any of these wonderful people. Apart from that, what Soomin had said was correct, if you hadn’t shown up when you did, Jimin wouldn’t be alive today. And thinking of a world where Jimin didn’t exist wasn’t at the top of your to-think list.

So while you didn’t appreciate the negative feelings brought on by the situation, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Okay, but, what’s the difference between sutures, stitches, and staples?” Jin questioned; his ebony locks slipping onto his chestnut orbs as his head tilted in a query. His voice, sharpened by confusion, breaks you from thoughts.

“Technically speaking, all three are used for the same purpose, to close wounds or surgical incisions, but they aren’t the same,” You explain; setting the silver needle forceps onto the medical tray while smoothly covering that fact that you had barely caught the words of the ravenette.

“For sutures, doctors use a thread or strand of material to perform wound closure. The term "stitches" refers to the surgical procedure or process of closing a wound with sutures. Staples on the other hand are another material that doctors sometimes use to make sutures or stitches.”

“Hm, I think I get it,” He did not get it. The confusion muddling his expression was as clear as day. This was a tricky subject, even you had trouble completely grasping the concept correctly. But he had barely begun learning of sutures and stitches, he had ample time to understand the material. Although he had progressed much faster than you had imagined, granted you weren’t exactly going in order by chapter.

You decided it would be best to teach him things he was more likely to need once he had a basic understanding of bacteria, pathogens, and such. You could move to the actual medicinal and chemical aspects once he has the basic skills he could need out on the job. Though symptom recognition and diagnosis are a part of the current lesson plan, for the moment it is a lesser matter.

“Do you know the different kinds of threads for status and stitches?” You ask the older male, testing the knowledge he was supposed to have studied the night before.

“There’s absorbable and nonabsorbable,” Thoughtfully he recites the information he had learned. “Absorbable sutures are intended to be broken down by the body over time and eventually dissolve completely. Some materials used to make absorbable sutures are derived from animal products that have been specially processed. Other absorbable sutures are made from synthetic polymer materials such as polylactic acid to make Vicryl, polyglycolic acid for Dexon, polyglyconate makes Maxon, and polydioxanone for PDS. And then there are non-absorbable sutures that are permanent and have to be removed. These sutures can be made from nylon, polypropylene which makes the prolene thread, or silk.”

“Good一very good,” You praise, eyes fluttering as you listen to the older male recite the passage from your old textbook word for word. Had he really memorized all that in a single night? If he had legitimately chosen this as a career path, you were sure he certainly would have gone far.

“So, do you have any questions before we move on?” You ask, a pleased smile curved onto your lips as you move to lay the ground world for the next lesson.

“Yeah,” Bobbing his head, the chestnut eyed male continued, “Why do doctors still use permanent threads if we already have dissolvable threads? Wouldn’t it just be easier to use the adorable ones? Since then the patient wouldn’t have to return to get the sutures removed,”

“Ah, that’s a really good question,” You exalted, hands coming together in a prayer position. “Well you see, permanent or nonabsorbable sutures are sometimes preferred because they are resistant to the body’s chemicals that might otherwise dissolve the sutures too early in the healing process. Non-absorbable sutures are useful for maintaining long-term tissue wound closure and healing,” You explain, reaching for the text-book that had been forgotten at the end of the surgery table.

“Oh, I see,” Seokjin hums, his forefinger and thumb on his chin as his thumb rubs the underside of his chin. “So permanent threads are still very useful too,”

“Yes very much so,” Nodding, you affirmed.

“So any other questions?” Flipping through the smooth pages of the text-book, you pause on the pages lesson twenty-four, “Sutures and Stitches”.

Shaking his head side to side, he signals for you to continue with the lecture.

“Okay, so today we learned the Mattress stitch and the continuous stitch,” You listed the day’s practice. “With that, you should be able to handle minor lacerations or cuts,”

“But,” You continue, “I want you to keep practicing on the suturing pad and study about those stitches, you may know how to do them, you still don’t know how to do them correctly,”

“And tomorrow we’ll get into the subcuticular stitch and look over some other stitches too, but一 yeah, that's it. And we’ll get more into staples in a few days. Tonight’s homework is just to study about the sutures,” You concluded, your gaze lifting to the brand new clock hanging on the wall. ‘Good, right on time,’

“(Y/n)?” Came the familiar low yet soft voice. Turning your body to face the white-blond leaning against the agape door frame.

“Yeah, let’s go,” You call, easing away from the operating table, you make your way to the other mafioso. But your attention is paged back in towards the room.

“Wait, (Y/n),” Humming in response you briefly angle yourself to the ravanette standing by the table, “Can I write in your book?” Shifting from one foot to another, he asks, his hand rubbing the nape of his neck. “It just gets a lot when I have to copy everything down,”

“Sure! Go ahead,” Beaming at the male you answer his silly question. It was his book now, he could do whatever he wanted on it. “That book is yours now, you can mark and write on it as much as you want,” Giving him a gentle smile, you reassure him.

“Thank you, and good luck in training” A sheepish grin curling onto his lips, Jin gives you a double thumbs up.

“You’re gonna need it,” The white-blond behind you scoffs as you make your way to the door.

“Oh hush you,” Half-heartedly slapping the mafioso on the chest, you bustle out the medical room - a compromise you came to between the doctor's office and operation room. As it turned out Jeongguk was not very fond or aware of the new name for the tiled room. He argued it be called what it had been called for as long as it had existed. Which was the “Doctor’s room” and though it was a very endearing term, it wasn’t exactly correct, nor was it very professional. Besides, OR sounded cooler.

And so you compromised, the name would have aspects you both had wanted, and thus the operation room was newly dubbed as the medical room. The new name contained factors you both liked, all in all, it was a happy arrangement.

“Alright, which one do you think we should do today?” Yoongi’s voice brings you back from your flashback of the great compromise.

“You’re asking me?” Pressing your hand to your hips, sarcasm bleeds from your words as your (e/c) orbs scan over the cloud-grey wall decked out with every gun or rifle one could imagine. Then drifting to the black metal drawers that were about waist height sitting under the gun mounts.

His eyes move in a semi-roll, before humming thoughtfully he picks up a solid black handgun from the wall adjacent to the one your sight had been fixed on.

Since the days after the gala fiasco, Hoseok had given the clear for you to begin your firearms training. You still had daily hand-to-hand combat training with either Hoseok or Jeongguk

“We practiced with a single-action for the past two days,” He speaks his thoughts as he examines the weapon in his hand before his slender digits trace a silver-black gun resting on the metal holders. “Yeah, maybe we’ll have you practice with a double-action today,”

“A double-action?” You parroted, forehead scrunching at the foreign vocabulary terms.

“Well, maybe not. It would probably be safer for a beginner to use a double-action until you’re used to all safety procedures,” Yoongi continues, oblivious to the query lacing your words.

“Wait, wait, what do you mean double-action一single action?” Voicing your question, you head involuntarily leaning to your right as you did.

Moments pass as he blankly stares at you, his eyelids fluttering open and close as he processes your words. “Didn’t we go over that when we started?” He asks, frown lines setting on his pale face folds in confusion.

“No,” Shaking your head side to side as his own expression transforms into one of surprise.

“Did we talk about how a gun works or anything like that?” Emphasizing the ‘anything’ he asked.

“Nope,” You return popping the ‘p’ as your shoulders rise into a shrug. “You kinda just gave me a gun, showed me how to use it, then we fired a buncha times,” Thoughtfully you review the events of the last two training sessions.

Yoongi’s face contorts in disbelief before his eyebrows lifted, his mouth opening as his own memories of the last sessions. “I should explain all that shouldn’t I?” Sheepishly rubbing the scruff of his neck, he jested.

“Probably,” You return with a soft chuckle.

“Right,” He grinned, beginning his explanation, “Well you see when you pull the slide of the handgun back, it allows for the magazine spring to push a bullet into the chamber. It also cocks the hammer of the gun back,”

His statement only caused your expression to rumple further as he once again used terms you were not familiar with. What did the word hammer have to do with guns? “What’s a hammer?”

“The hammer is a part of a gun that is used to strike the percussion cap or primer, or a separate firing pin, to light the propellant and fire the projectile. It is so-called that because it looks like a hammer and kinda works like one too, here, look,” Waving you closer he showed you the tail of the gun, pointing to the little lever-like bump that sat at the end of the gun.

“A cap?” You question; did he not understand that you were a beginner and that you hadn’t even seen let alone touched a gun before you had met them, or did he assume you knew your way around firearms after the way you spoke in the Matsuuru deal. It may have sounded like you knew what you were talking about, but you really didn’t, you were simply reciting the list of words Namjoon had shown you.

“It’s called a percussion cap or just cap for short, and some people even call it a primer. It’s basically a thin metal cup that contains a small amount of pressure-sensitive explosive, often mercury fulminate. And when crushed, the explosive detonates, sending a stream of hot gas down through a hole in the nipple and into the touchhole of the gun to ignite the powder charge.” He tried his hardest to settle his annoyance at your thousand questions

“Powder charge?” Another query falls from your lips.

“Gunpowder,” He curtly simplifies.

“Then, when you pull the trigger of the gun, it causes the hammer to snap forward, which pushes the firing pin inside the gun into the primer of the bullet cartridge. When the firing pin strikes the primer, it ignites the propellant or gunpowder that will send the bullet flying down the barrel at a high rate of speed,” He finally finishes without your interruptions. “That is basically how a hammer-fired gun works,”

“I think I get it,” Thoughtfully, you hum, stepping through the door at the end of the room, into the actual gun range. Then realizing he Yoongi had just used another term you did not understand. “Wait, hammer-fired?”

A deep exhale leaves his lips, he does not have the patience nor energy to explain hammer-fired and striker-fired on top of double-action and single-action. “Ah, well you see there are hammer-fired guns or striker-fired guns, a Glock is a striker-fired gun, but we’ll get into all that stuff some other time. For now, how about we just focus on the actions,”

“Okay so, the gun you were using yesterday was a single action, meaning you pull back the handle slide of the gun to cock it, then you pull the trigger to fire the bullet,” Alluding you with the simplest words he could think of, making sure to avoid any other firearms-related terms and words. “A double-action is when the cocking of the hammer and the firing of the gun both happen as you pull the trigger,”

“So we’re working with a double-action today?”

“Yeah, let’s get you used to double-actions. In the long run, I think it’d be safer for you to have a double,” He concluded, pulling out the magazine of the charcoal-colored gun in his grasp. Before cruising back to the room with the guns, walking to the farthest drawers sitting underneath the gun mounts, replacing the magazine with a new one.

“Do you have your earplugs?” The white-blond asked, his eyes flickering to you from the weapon in his hand.

Nodding, you wordlessly respond to the male’s question. Digging through the pockets of your hoodie, you hold out a sable-black box that was about the size of your palm.

“Good, always keep them on you,” His head bobs in approval as he hands you the newly loaded gun along with a set of large headphones. “But for now, use these”

The weapon sits heavy on your free palm. Saliva pooled in your mouth as you carefully held the gun - forefinger away from the trigger - you daintily pocketed the black box. “What gun is this?” You questioned, feeling a tingling sensation run underneath the skin of your palms, sweat gathering on them as your fingers tentatively brushed the body of the firearm.

“It’s a double-action Tanfoglio EAA Witness,” A swift reply leaves his lips “Alright, now what are the rules I gave you?”

“Trigger finger off at all times unless I’m ready to shoot,” Your answer is immediate, having had the core rule drilled into you for two consecutive days.

“Good, next,”

Your mouth moved to sound the correct answer, but you pause, instead deciding to reply with the lesson you had learned the hard way. “Don’t touch the barrel or muzzle after it fires,” Grumbling out the words, you grimace as your brain replays the incident that occurred a day prior.

Being the novice to weapons that you were, you didn’t realize just how hot the gun could get. Normally one would think it common sense that the temperature of the gun’s barrel and muzzle exponential rise, seeing as a mini-explosion takes place within the barrel for the bullet to exit the weapon. But at that instant, all rhyme or reason had left you, and you had the magnificent idea to hold the gun by the head. Which ended with you accidentally touching the muzzle area, a minor burn, and a life lesson.

“I see someone’s learned her lesson,” Yoongi chuckles, exhorting you to continue. “Next,”

“Never point the gun at anything unless I intend to destroy it,” You list.

“Good, now do you have a lock on your target?”

“Uh-huh,”

“Put on your headphones and shoot whenever you’re ready, take your time to aim each turn,” The mafioso instructs, gesturing to the noise-canceling headphones in your hand.

Following his directions, you place the cushions of the large headphone over your ears, adjusting them to fit your skull, then taking your stance.

Your heart heavily thudding in your chest, you take deep breaths, trying to calm the throbbing of your pulse that translated into your hand, making them shaky. Your first breath comes out ragged and choppy, but the exhales that follow pacify the palpitation ringing through your body, smoothing the flow or circulation.

Once your body had steadied, you moved into the weaver stance. Feet planted slightly wider than shoulder-width apart, placing the foot correlating with your dominant hand a half-step behind your non-dominant foot. A soft bend in your knees, leaning slightly forward, bracing yourself for the backlash of the shot.

Continuing your focused breathing you aim the point of the gun at the paper human target, you intently watch as the gun bobbed up and down with the cadence of your breaths. Your expression relaxes as your vision focuses on the target nearly twenty yards from where you stood. ‘Never aim for the head, the target’s too small. Always aim for the chest,’ Yoongi’s words echo in your head as you shift to aim for the center of the chest, where the heart would have been.

On your next inhale you solidify your aim, tightening your grip on the weapon, squeezing the trigger as you exhaled. Slowly, centimeter by centimeter you inch closer to the end of the pull, increasing the pressure on the trigger. And at the trough of your exhale the curve of the trigger meets its end.

The powerful push of the gun drives your body backwards, your bent knees, and the forward lean absorbing the shock, keeping you in place. The impact of the bullet firing rippling throughout your body. You felt a slight tremble in your hands, a hum of the aftershock. You hold on the grip constricts, eyes narrowing on the result of the shot as you bite back the disappointment of missing your mark. The bullet had landed below the right shoulder, much farther than your marked target.

Keeping your breathing as stagnant as you could, you refocus your aim. The same spot as earlier, this time you adjusted your aim, a touch lower, and a smudged to the left. Then squeeze the trigger again. And though the bullet doesn’t land on the intended destination, it is just a tad closer, the bullet having ended on the mid-chest area, right on the line of your designated mark.

The process of shooting and adjustment continued as you build experience and feel for the weapon. The cycle continued for the entirety of the time Yoongi trained you, pausing only to give you pointers or to reload the magazine - which you did on your own - Yoongi had shown you how to replace a magazine the day before and you had been replacing the cartridge on your own ever since.

And as the operation flowed you noticed that the gun you were working with today was much smoother and easier to use than the one you had been training with previously. The elongated trigger time caused by the heaviness of the pull gave you a chance to readjust your aim or even reconsider your decision to shoot altogether. You liked that added time frame to think about your decision and finalize your aim. But that also may have been a drawback as the longer fire time may give the other person to counter or even shoot before you had the chance to.

Nonetheless, if you were able to choose the gun you would have, then you would most certainly ask for this one. The body was sleek and clean, the modern designs pleasing to the eye, and above that, the feel of the gun was marvelous. Not that you knew many guns or their feels, but this one just felt right. It fit perfectly in your palm, and the grip was comfortable, almost natural.

By the time Yoongi had called the end of this session, you had burned through three fourteen plus one magazines. For a total of forty-five bullets used.

Huffing out an exhausted exhale, you place the gun on the table-like area that was separated into a booth-like space by walls of wood. You jerk your hands in a flicking motion in an attempt to ease away the pounding in palms. Your hands flushed a vibrant red and a little numb from the continuous shooting. You remove the headphones protecting your hearing before stretching your limbs, easing them into a more relaxed state.

“Good job today, you’re improving really fast,” Yoongi praises, taking the gun you had put down, returning it to its mount on the grey wall. Humming a soft ‘thank you’, you lean against the table-like space in between the separators.

“Hey, so does this mean I get my own gun or something?” You ask the older male, curious as to whether you were actually getting a weapon or if this was just training to prepare for a situation.

“You will,” The white-blond cruises into the shooting range, hands in the pockets of his slacks. “But first you need to try a bunch of them to see what you are comfortable with and can actually use outside of practice.”

“Can I have that one?” You head tilts upward to gesture to the gun he had just put away.

“The one you were using?” You nod at his question. Sure it was true you needed to build more experience and try out more guns to see what worked best with you, but you just felt a pull towards the one you were using.

“Yeah,”

“A tanfoglio witness, huh?” A familiar silvery voice resounded throughout the room. “I think it suits you, beautiful and efficient,” Jimin muses, coasted over to where you stood, wrapping his arms around your waist when close enough.

Giggling at his corny statement, you nuzzle into Jimin’s neck, arms coming to rest around his thin waist, purring at the warmth of his delicately comforting embrace.

“What’re you doing here?” You mumble into the exposed skin of his neck, basking in the sunny feeling of his grasp around your body.

“Getting the two of you for the meeting,” Answering softly, he places a caste kiss on your forehead.

“You’re here to get us?” Scoffing a laugh, you part from the silver-blond just enough to meet his eyes.

“And?” A questioning brow raises on his face as eyes you, a smile curling onto his lips. “You gotta problem?”

“You guys are sickening,” Yoongi wretches at the disturbingly cute moment unfolding before him. However, despite his outward expression, he was truly happy for his boss. The white-blond couldn’t properly recall the last time the don had laughed so freely, enjoyed the minor things in life, like a cup of tea or just a slow day. For the longest time, the young mafioso had been focused solely on the jobs neglecting even himself and his own health, on top of that Jimin was fierce一 short-tempered, denying any help or counseling the other core members provided. So having you hound him for skipping meals or being careless with his health and Jimin actually being rendered completely helpless to your care and affection, was a delightful change of pace. Besides, Jimin was Yoongi’s brother just as much as he was the white-blond’s boss.

“Sickeningly adorable,” You correct the older mafioso with a blinding grin as Jimin chuckles into your locks.

“But seriously, the meeting’s about to start,” The mafia don tugs you by your waist. Leading you out of the shooting range and back into the lavish mansion. Yoongi exited before the two of you, not intending on being trapped behind two mush balls, especially with one of them Jimin melting by the minute.

“How’s Shelty doing?” You question, falling into an easy pace with Jimin beside you, still holding onto your hip. Having not seen your precious puppy since morning as you had left her with Jimin.

“Guk may be having a bit too much fun with her,” The silver-blond answers, a sigh following his statement. He was forced to leave the wolf-dog in the care of the younger as you had forbidden your puppy from being anywhere near the gun range while guns were firing as the loud sounds would hurt her sensitive hearing. But, Jimin had wanted to personally fetch you for the meeting. And Namjoon and Jin were busy preparing for the meeting; Hoseok and Taegyung were out for a minor deal meeting; Yoongi was with you, so he had no choice but to leave the pupper with the youngest.

Which, now that he had a chance to really consider his decision, may not have been the best, Joengguk was responsible and mature most of the time, but most of the time there wasn’t an equally excited ball of floof jumping at him. It was like leaving two overzealous golden retrievers together… in a small room… alone.

“You know what? I think we should hurry up,” Jimin grumbles, increasing his pace to a brisk walk.

“What? Why?” Your eyelids flutter in confusion as you match his pace, dashed down the west wing corridors, and up the winding staircase of the main building.

“I left Shelty with Guk,” He groans, hoping all was intact in the cramped meeting room. You let out a joyful laugh as you realized the thoughts running through Jimin’s head.

His eyes playfully narrow as the silver-blond pulls into his grasp, tickling your sides as you a shrill of laughter and pleas from him to stop floods from your lips.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, sheesh,” Wiping away the tears that had gathered on the edges of your eyes, you chuckle. “I’m sure they’ll be fine. Besides its Jeongguk he’ll take great care of Shelty,”

“It’s not Shelty I’m worried about,” A sigh escapes his plump, cherry-pink lips and you couldn’t help but give those plush pillows a soft peck.

“Shelt’s housebroken, she won’t jump or chew on any furniture,” You reassure the male with another chaste kiss on the cheek.

“See,” Your gaze gesturing to a placid Shelty, contentful snuggled into the youngest brunette on the floor as the elevator doors opened. And Jimin heaves a breath, stepping towards his seat then lowering into the armchair, relieved that nothing was destroyed or damaged.

“Shelty, I’m here,” You call the seventy-pound puppy. Her ears immediately alert when he hears the voice of her favorite human. She bounds over to you as you take your seat on the velvet armchair to the left of Jimin. “Heyya girl,” Cooing at the wolf-dog, you kiss her head, massaging her scruff and running your fingers through her silky fur. “Did you miss me?”

Even though he had an absolute blast with Jimin and then the chocolate brunette, she missed you very much.

“Jin, Taehyung, and Hoseok will be here soon,” Namjoon declared, coming to stand beside Jimin’s right with a touch screen tablet in his hand. Jimin nods to the tall, syrup-brown haired mafioso.

“Hey, (Y/n) wasn’t late today,” Jin walks into the room, Taehyung and Hoseok on his tail. You throw the elder a sheepish grin, which he returns as each man takes their respective seat.

“Alright, let’s begin the meeting,” Once everyone is settled, Namjoon’s voice resounds as he took his place in Jimin’s right.

“First thing’s first, how did the deal with the Myo’s go?” Yoongi asks, eyeing the pair that had entered with Jin.

“They were able to get five mill together but they don’t have enough for the nine-millimeter parabellum magazines,” Taehyung says, leaning his weight onto the armrest.

“What was their order,” Jimin questions, his right leg crossing over his left.

“A thousand units of M4 carbines, two-thousand units of Glock 20s, two-thousand units of Glock 43s, and four thousand units of nine-millimeter parabellum cartridges,” Namjoon answers his gaze, flickering to the don, examining his docile expression.

“I’m assuming the M4 carbines and the Glock 20s are the most expensive out of the bunch,” You say thoughtfully, eyes shifting to Yoongi and Jimin to confirm your belief. The pair affirm your words with a nod of their head. “Okay, do we know why they need the guns?”

“They were caught in a turf war, so they’re stocking up on weapons,” The tallest is once again to answer the question. Did Namjoon know everything?

“Well if they’re running short on budget, I would suggest they cut down on the guns and instead stock up on bullets,” Patting Shelty’s soft head, you bring your feet up to your chest as you speak. “It’s not like they’re just going to throw away the gun once they use them, they’re gonna need way more bullets than actual guns. Besides guns become as useful as your tailbone if there are no bullets for them to fire,”

Confusion floods the expression on the beautiful faces of the men, aside from Jin, who chortled at your medical analogy. The faces of the six contorting further, not understanding what their elder found so funny.

“It’s a medical thing don’t worry about it,” Waving off the query in the faces of the men, you dismiss the situation.

“ I’ll make sure to pass that along to the Myo’s,” Taehyung breaks the very, very short silence that had fallen after your unsuccessful analogy.

“Alright next,” Nodding at the chestnut-haired male, Jimin carries on the meeting. “The meeting with Ji-Eun Duri,” His expression hardens as the men sit up straighter, some toying with their suit cuffs.

“The meeting will take place tomorrow at one of her safe houses, we were told to come with minimal personale just,”

“Come with minimal personale? Does she want this to be like a ceasefire signing or something?” Ji-Eun Duri was truly an enigma to you. Every time you think you felt as though you were close to figuring her out, she does something like this. Why not meet at the safety of her own space, her own territory? It wasn’t as though the location of her home was a mystery to you, to Bangtan to be more accurate. But still, what was she doing? What was she really up to?

“Tell me,” You call. “Ji-Eun Dure, what is she like? What’s her business? What does she do?” Firing a barrage of questions, you try to piece together the puzzle that was Ji-Eun Duri.

“She’s sharp and cunning,” Yoongi speaks, his gaze hardening into a glare. ‘Well duh,’ That much was clear, by the way, she held herself, the way she addressed others, her smarts and wit were as clear as the crystal-like turquoise waters of the Maldives.

“She runs one of the largest drug rings in Seoul, and she holds power over many of the mafia families,”

“Where does she get her drugs from?”

“She has her own farms around the world,” Namjoon answers. “But, Peru and Colombia are the main producers,”

‘Peru and Colombia, huh?’ Two of the countries largely responsible for cocaine cultivation. However, it was surprising Bolivia hadn’t made the list of main producers, especially considering the abundance of coca plants in the region. Unless…

“Tell me, does she have anything in Bolivia?” You ask, acting on the bubbling in your stomach.

“Bolivia?” The tallest echos. “I’m not sure, I’d have to look into that. Why?” syrup haired male looks to you.

“Just wondering,” Humming, you mumble, leaning your head against the back of the armchair.

“What about guns? Weapons? Does she deal with weapons?” Twisting your head to the right you ask the man over Jimin.

“She doesn’t deal with weapons, no. She buys weapons frequently, but she’s never been known to sell them” Namjoon faithfully answers. She didn’t deal with weapons? Why?

“Then where does she get her weapons from?” If she has a running drug ring then she must need weapons. And the larger the operation the more weapons and supplies she requires.

“Ji-Eun gets all her firearms and ammo from the dealers and families under her and only from the people he has control over,”

“Yeah, she rarely makes deals with those who aren’t under her,” Taehyung adds.

Duri may have appeared to be arrogant or brash, but her actions spoke otherwise. She trusted no one other than the ones she had a firm grasp on. Those she could manipulate, those who couldn’t betray her. That level of caution was the making of a dangerous woman. You finally understood why the group might have been eager to align Bangtan ti Duri.

Aligning with Duri would mean not only her support but also the support of the families and groups beneath her.

“So it really surprised us when she wanted to make a deal with us,” Hoseok’s calm voice brings you back from the depth of your thoughts.

“If it were just us, we would have jumped at her offer,” Jin says, his hand coming up to brush the back of his neck. “So I’m glad you were there,”

“Yeah, you really saved us back there,” Yoongi chuckles as a sheepish grin forms on his lips

“I was so focused on what we could gain from the alliance, I forgot to think about what we would be giving in return, and just what exactly “loyalty” included,” Jimin sighs, his eyes shifting to your form.

“We all were,” Jeongguk quips. “Well, aside from (Y/n) I guess,” A smile playing at his lips, he gestures to you.

“How’d you catch it so quickly?” Taehyung asks.

“Well, you guys were so tense around her, I knew she was dangerous. And besides, I was already on guard because of the whole Soomin thing. So as soon as she presented her deal, I thought of every way she could benefit from having our “loyalty”. And the biggest one was that if she used her words right she could possibly have almost full control over our networks,” You explain, toying with the furs on Shelty’s head. “Which would mean she would have the most powerful weapon in existence,”

“Most powerful weapons in existence?” Taehyung parrots, an eyebrow raised in question.

“Accurate information,” Letting your feet down, you answer the male. “If used right it could bring the most powerful people to their knees,”

“But, you need to have reliable information to use it,” Adding to your previous statement, you make your point.

“Man I wasn’t even thinking of that,” The youngest grumbles, throwing his arms behind his head.

“That’s why words are so dangerous,” You hum. “If you don’t listen carefully, you might just end up understanding what you want to understand, and not what the speaker is actually meaning to say,”

“So you have to listen properly,” Chuckling you send Shelty over to the younger male, in an effort to heal his wounded pride. How could someone who has barely known the mafia world outwit him, someone who had been at this for years longer than you?

“Well then, we’re gonna need that kind of listening tomorrow,” Jimin concludes, coming to a stand. A sign the meeting was coming to an end.

“Tomorrow, we’ll be taking a unit of fifteen,” He instructs. “Jin, Jeongguk, and Yoongi, you will stay behind,”

A gentle smile curves on your lips at Jimin's decision. A smart choice on his part, he was leaving back-up just in case something were to happen while he was away. And if something were to happen to him, there would be people to look after the gang.

The mouths of the men called opened and closed, the words of protest dying on their tongue when faced with the hard glare of the mafia don.

“Tomorrow, the people I didn’t call the names of are to meet at the front of the house at 1 p.m. sharp,” He commands, his gaze landing on you as he leaves for the door. A silent demand for you to follow him.

“For now, the meeting is adjourned,” He calls, his back to the group.

Light currents of cool spring air wash through the front gardens. A gentle glimmer of sunlight shining past the few clouds that dotted the vast skies warmed the air, creating a comfortable temperature. The coolness of the wind soothingly caresses your body, crashing and receding like the fluid waves of the oceans as you wait for everyone to arrive at the front doors. If only you were able to properly enjoy this beautiful day.

A strange tightness had taken hold in your chest, forming a sort of a ball in the center of your chest cavity. It would have been easier to ignore if that was all it had been, but that metaphorical ball had been constantly exuding just a surge of nervous energy, almost like the winds that were blowing through the vicinity. It wasn’t that you were nervous about meeting Duri, you had already done that once, you could certainly do it again. And it wasn’t that not all of the core members would be with you, as long as one of them were with you, you would have been fine. Besides, Jimin would be with you.

And you knew it wasn’t because Shelty wasn’t going to be tagging along this time around. Seeing as before the mafia incident, you had rarely ever taken Shelty everywhere you went, aside from the flower shop and on her daily walks, she was usually home.

But perhaps the agitation you were feeling was somehow tied to the weights hanging from your thighs. You swallowed the saliva that had pooled in your mouth, gingerly brushing your fingertips across the bump jutting from the leather holster, skin making contact with the exposed grip of the steel gun.

All your training sessions for the day had been canceled in favor of letting you rest and mentally prepare for the meeting that was to come. And as you were doing just that, cuddled up in your many blankets and pillows when an unexpected visitor showed up at your door bearing even more unexpected gifts.

Yoongi was at your door, holding the leather holster you had currently donned, two guns - a charcoal-black Tanfoglio Witness and a similarly colored Glock 20 to be exact - and several magazines of ten-millimeter bullets.

At first, you had denied the need for the wraps as you would be with Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok, and not to mention the other fifteen men that would be attending the meeting with you. But he immediately countered with a “They won’t always be there to protect you”, which was true though you were still reluctant considering you hadn’t had adequate training in firearm handling yet. You had only been working with guns for three days for god's sake! That was when he mentioned that the weapons could be entirely for show and that if Jimin were with you probably wouldn’t even have to draw.

And you finally caved, allowing Yoongi to fit the double thigh holster around your thighs. Which was thankfully not as awkward as you had thought it would be. You had slipped on the belt portion of the holster on your own, and Yoongi simply adjusted the straps to sit comfortably around your clothed flesh.

Heaving another breath lean your weight on your left leg, trying to acknowledge then move on from the heaviness on your thighs.

“Are you nervous, love?” A soft voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Mm, a little,” You grumble, pressing your face against Jimin’s chest as warm arms encompass your waist.

“Don’t be,” He mumbles, placing a chaste kiss on the crown of your head. “You’ll do fine,”

Your cheeks puff at his words. He was talking as though you would be the only one carrying this deal. He was going to be there too.

“What?” He says, squishing your puffed out cheeks with his forefingers and his thumb.

The don chuckles as he watches you struggle to get out of his old. Groaning you twist out of the grasp around your cheeks. Then stepping away from him, an amused eyebrow-raising when he takes in your full form.

“What’s this?” He asks, gently tugging you back to him and facing you towards him. “Did Yoongi give you a gift?” His eyes travel the length of your physique, honey-brown orbs running over every curve.

“Yeah,” You murmur quietly, gaze falling to your feet. A sudden shyness blooming in your chest, the original anxiousness now forgotten. ‘This man,’ He always had an effect on you. No matter the situation or the circumstance - somehow every time he had either a calming effect or a flustering one. Personally, you preferred the calming one.

“You look hot," Jimin marveled, drinking in the image of you with leather holsters wrapped around your waist and thighs.

“Shush you,” You hiss, blood rushing to your face, a pretty pink settling on your cheeks. To which the silver-blond replies with a series of chuckles. But the moment is cut short when a loud ring of his cell-phone.

“Hold on,” He fumbled with his suit pocket, fishing out his phone and answering it.

“Hell一”

“Duir! She’s gone! She’s not there anymore!” Soomin rambles, her voice is urgent, almost frantic as she yells out unfinished sentences.

“Soomin, calm down. What are you talking about?” He calmly questions the girl on the other end. And although Jimin’s voice was as steady as a rock you could hear the slight worry leaving his tone.

“The safe house was attacked, they took Ji-Eun Duri,” Jimin’s expression changes to one of surprise, then to one of irritation.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Your head twists to meet the owner of the voice to land on a confused Taehyung and Namjoon with an equally perplexed Hoseok on their tail. The trio comes to stand beside you.

“What?” The male spat. “Do you know who?”

“Yeong!” Jimin’s eyes widened hearing the name of the culprit. Yeong, but how could that be? He was supposed to be injured, not to mention he had lost a sizable number of men, could he have called for this?

“Are you sure?” He asks the female,

“Yes, now, get over here! And quickly!” Frustrated by his many questions, Soomin curtly reaffirms.

“We’ll be there soon,” Jimin growls out a reply before ending the call and running a foul expression taking hold of his handsome face.

“What’s going on?” Tenderly taking hold of Jimin’s free hand, you question softly.

“Ji-Eun Duri was kidnapped,” Your eyes blew apart hearing the silver-blond’s words, and though you had a thousand questions, for the moment, you kept them to yourself. You would get all the answers you wanted once you met up with Soomin.

“Should I get everyone else together?” Namjoon inquired, his cell-phone already on hand.

“No, just us,” Jimin rebuffs. “Now, let’s head out,” He commanded, nudging you into the limousine that had been waiting for the group.

“You sure took your time,” Soomin grunts, leading your group into the safe house - which was more of a luxurious villa - with a bitter scowl etched onto her face. And the interior was in utter disarray; the furniture was displaced, fragments of glass and other materials littered the ground. Dull russet splotches of different sizes decorated the walls and floor. ‘Bloodstains,’ There was a fight, and a big one at that. The mayhem that began at the main entrance continued throughout the hallways you walked.

‘But why is she here?’ You eyed the female as you followed her through the grand corridors of the lavish home. A pressing question resonating in your skull of her current behavior, her actions. Why was she still here? From what you inferred from the encounter three days prior, the pair seemed close. And going by the agitated demeanor she was presenting, she was distressed. She was worried about her ally’s safety yet she was still here, why? Unless… ‘I see,’ There was a reason she wasn’t out there looking for her friend.

“Shouldn’t you be looking for her too?” A peeved scoff leaves Taehyung plush lips, articulating the question that you had been mulling over. Her corners twitch at the male’s words, her expression morphing into one of suppressed rage.

“She can’t,” Soomin's jaw opens to answer the chestnut-haired mafioso, but you cut her off before the situation had a chance to escalate.

“Well, it’s more of she’s already tried,” You clarify your words. “I’m guessing you only called for us because you couldn’t find Ji-Eun Duri on your own,”

“I’d forgotten how nice it was to have someone with a brain around,” Soomin sneers, banking left at the interaction between two hallways. Taehyung snarls at the female’s off-handed remark. “It’s as (Y/n) says,” She gestures to you with a nod. “I’ve put my best of the best at work they still haven’t found her,”

“I tried calling Duri this morning, but she wouldn’t pick up. But that's nothing new, so I didn't think much of it,” A deep sigh escaping her painted lips as she pushes open one of the double doors of the room at the end of the hallway you had been trekking down.

Once within the confines of the large office room, your eyes widened as you took in the condition of the space. It was pristine; not a single furniture out of place, only the rug had been muddied. But the rest of the room was clean, spotless even. It was almost as if this room was left untouched or…

“This place… ” Taehyung lets his gaze drift throughout the room, his hands stuffed into the pocket of his suit pants as Soomin leads the group towards the desk.

“Later when I showed up for today’s meeting,” Her hands spread to gesture to the interior of the house. “I came to this.”

“Then you couldn’t find her on your own and now you want our help, is that about right?” A questioning brow raises on the chestnut-haired mafioso.

“Yes,” Soomin’s jaw clenched at Taehyung’s brash words, before looking to Jimin, her gaze silently pleading for Bangtan’s aide.

“But,” She pauses. “There’s another reason I needed you, well specifically speaking, why I needed (Y/n),”

“Me?” You point to yourself. What did she need you for?

“That,” She gestured to the rectangular letter paper situated on a book. There was a table printed on the paper; eight rows with five columns. Each row of the first column held a single number, from one to eight with rows eight, six, five, three, and one being highlighted.

Each row of the second column held numbers one through fifteen with numbers highlighted on rows eight, six, five, three, and one.

Each row of the third column held numbers one to thirty with multiple numbers highlighted in two different colors on the same rows as the column before.

The fourth column was similarly organized, only these rows had numbers going from one to thirty-five, once again with some of the numbers highlighted, the colors corresponding with the ones on the third column.

But the fifth column was entirely different; it was handwritten rather than highlighted print. And what was even stranger was that only the first and the sixth row had numbers written in.

“What is that?” You question, gaze flickering back to the female that had brought you here.

“I don’t know,” Soomin’s shoulders rise into a shrug. “This was there when I came in,”

“I knew it was some sort of clue Duri left,” She heaves another sigh. “But I couldn’t figure it out,”

“You couldn’t figure it out so you wanted (Y/n)’s help?” Jimin reiterates Soomin’s words.

“Yes,” She affirms, her arms folding defensively over her chest. “Will you take a look?” Her pleading eyes meet yours. She talked as though you had a choice, if you wanted to keep the alliance then you had no choice to help find the older woman. But knowing that exactly didn’t do you any good, it certainly wasn’t going to help you find Duri any faster.

Exhaling a deep breath you focus your mind. There’s a very good chance she wasn’t even in this room while the abduction happened. But going by the mud on the rug and the way it is positioned, you could tell that whoever brought in all that mud stood on the spot, right in the middle of that expensive rug and chatted with someone. Someone sitting behind that desk.

Plus, seeing as there were no other footprints on the floor, no signs of people searching around the room. Duri must’ve been in here. Easing away from the group you carefully wandered the room. The answer to the clue was in this room. The way she highlighted those numbers, it wasn’t haphazardly done, the highlighter strokes were precise and clear. Not to mention the paper itself, most of the columns and numbers were printed out for god's sake. So this clue had been preplanned, she expected something like this may happen and had already taken precautions. Now the question was where was the answer?

Your intent gaze brushed over every nook, every cranny, every detail of this room. ‘It has to be in here,’ The sofas, the coffee table, the cupboards, the bookshelf一 the bookshelf. You briskly walked over to the tall bookshelf up against the wall behind the desk.

‘Are those numbers?’ Your eyebrows knit together as you delicately run your finger down the spines of a book before you. Examining the books, all of these books were in English, and each of them had numbers at the end of their spines.

‘One, two, three, four…’ Counting out the number of books in each row there were exactly fifteen books, all numbered. ‘Eight rows,’ Your eyes widened as you registered your own words, the pieces of the puzzle started to come together.

The carnage outside, and the lack of carnage in here, the footprints, the clue, it was all falling in place.

“She was in here when it happened,” You mused, your thoughts flowing straight from your head to your mouth. “There wasn’t a fight or struggle. Ji-Eun Duri left with them,”

“What are you talking about?!” Soomin is quick to defend the older woman. “My mother would never leave with the enemy!”

“She didn’t leave by choice, no. But she did cooperate with them. Oh yeah, she left with them, alright,” Hurrying back to the desk, you pick up the paper sitting on the book before your brain finally processing Soomin’s words. “Ji-Eun Duri is your mother?” You blanch at the other female.

“N一no, well, yes. She’s my adoptive mother,” The girl clarifies her hands creating round gestures as she did. “But that’s not the point,” Shaking off the question she speaks.

“Duri would never leave with the enemy,”

“Oh, but she did,” Your head tilts as you rush back to the bookshelf, pulling out the five books highlighted on the first column of the table. “But there’s a reason why she left,”

“Why are you getting books?” Taehyung asks, confusion muddling his already sour expression as he watches you gather book after book in your arms.

Once you retrieved the five books from the shelf back to the desk, you organized them by order of the rows they were in, believing that would be the order of the message.

“You mean the books?” Soomin’s voice quiets as the revelation dawns on her. “The numbers! The shelves! How did I not see that before?!” She exclaims, rushing to the desk, determined to lend you a hand. And to be useful to the search.

“If the first column means bookshelf and the second column means book number. Then the third column must mean page number,” The female mafiosos babbles, catching onto the pattern. “So the fourth column would be the word, but what’s the fifth column?” Frown lines set on her forehead as he faces another dead end.

“If we follow the progression, then the fifth should mean letter,” You chuckle when Soomin was unable to understand the last column even though the answer was right before her.

While you and Soomin were occupied with deciphering the message of the code, turning to the page the paper dictated, then to the word and letter. Another figure entered the chaos which was Ji-Eun’s office.

“Namjoon-ssi, I came here as soon as I could,” A smooth voice, comparable to softest silk spoke from beyond the agape double doors.

“Ah yes, Hyuk, come in,” Namjoon invited the owner of the voice into the room.

Even you couldn’t resist the urge to peek at the holder of such a honeyed voice. Your curious gaze landed on the figure of a beautiful man talking to the don’s right-hand man.

He had porcelain pale skin with a pair of the brightest hazel orbs you had ever laid eyes on. A sharp, defined jawline with pitch-black locks gracefully resting against his forehead. He was truly beautiful, of course to you no one could compare to Jimin, but the specimen standing before you was quite fine as well.

“Oh? Should I be worried?” Jimin chuckles, a deep fuschia dusts your cheeks, having been caught ogling admiring another man.

“Of course not,” You huff, pout puffing onto your cheeks.

“You’re adorable,” The silver-blond whispers, pressing a soft kiss against your plush lips, pulling you into him.

“Oh, hush you,” Mumbling into his pillowy lips, you place once last chaste kiss on them before returning to your code-cracking. A quiet chuckle leaves his cherry-pink lips as he eases away from the desk to the sofas where Taehyung had found himself a seat.

“So when did that happen?” Soomin goads as she flipped the first book of the list open.

“When did what happen?” You return cooly, taking the paper with the message, and rereading over the contents. The sly woman gives you a shit-eating grin, her eyes possessing an incredibly entertained glint.

“Whatever, just turn to page twenty-one,” You commanded. Soomin lets out a soft chortle before turning the page you had instructed to. “There are more than one numbers highlighter on this row, so I’m guessing two different pages,”

“And the highlighter colors must coincide with the which number is for what page,” Soomin adds.

“First is word number three, letters one and five,”

Craning your neck to look into the book, you count the words from the top line to the left, landing on “Jadeites”. What did that even mean?

“Jadeites, so a ‘j’ and an ‘i’,” Soomin noted down the two letters.

“Keep the capitals,” You instruct, a woman cunning enough to create such a message would know to keep those minor details in check.

“Alright, next page,” Soomin looks to you expectantly.

“Twenty-three; word five; letters one, two, three, and four,”

Turning to the commanded page, Soomin counts down the words before reciting her findings. “The word is “during”. So, “d”, “u”, “r”, and “i”,”

“Duri?” Combining together the letters you said aloud the word that came as a result. Your expression hardened at the outcome of the search - it was a sign - you were on the right track.

“Next book,” Sharply you call for the search to continues.

“Right,” Soomin sets down the book in her hold, lifting the next book in sequence.

“Page fifteen; words twelve and twenty,”

“It’s “thirty” and “eight”, any letters?” She asks. With a shake of your head, you reply a silent ‘no’.

“Okay next,” Picking up the next novel, she asks for directions.

“Page ten; words seven, twenty-eight, and thirty,’’

“So, “at”, “i” and “cloud”,” The peach-blonde woman read out her findings.

‘At I cloud,’ Wasn’t that... Your eyes wide as you finally understood Drui’s plan. And if your hunch was correct then this would certainly lead you directly to her.

“Soomin, what kind of phone does Ji-Eun carry?” You ask, urgency lacing your voice.

“An apple, why?” She answers, and the realization is immediate “Oh!”

“I’ll go get a laptop,” Soomin calls, scurrying out of the room.

“What happened?” Taehyung straightens in his seat when Soomin abruptly dashes out of the office. “What’s going on? Where is she going?” A slew of questions falls from the brunette's lips as he slowly lowers himself onto the sofa.

“What’s wrong, love? Did you two find something?” Jimin inquires, cruising over to where you furiously turned pages of a thick book.

“If this is what I think it is then it’ll only be minutes until we find her,” You say as you run your fingers across the page of the book, eyes scanning over the many words before taking a shaky step back. A wide grin curling on your lips.

“Oh, you sneaky woman,” Chuckling with a shake of your head you scribble down words onto a piece of paper.

“Alright, I got it,” Soomin returns with a slender silver laptop computer.

“I thought Ji-Eun didn’t have a tracker on her,” Hoseok said, eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“That’s what I thought too,” Soomin admitted, taking long and unjustifiably confident strides towards the desk.

“Wait, so she does have a tracker?” Taehyung's statement sounds more of a question as he tries to piece together what the two crazy women were spouting.

“Not exactly,” The peach-blonde female purs.

“I am thoroughly confused,” The crimson-haired mafioso mumbles, arms folded over his chest, Hoseok stands beside Namjoon at the desk.

“You see she carries an Apple phone,” You begin, your excited gaze meeting their befuddled ones.

“And?” Taehyung grunts. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You see, most to all smart-phones these days come with a built-in GPS tracker, and that is especially for Apple,” The peach-haired female continues your explanation.

“All Apple devices come in with a “Find My Phone” feature where you can track your lost phone from an Apple computer or any other IOS device by using your Apple ID and signing into iCloud,” Piggybacking on Soomin’s continuation you fully expound the group in your findings.

“So you intend to track Duri’s location from her phone,” Jimin restates your intentions in clear terms, shuffling closer to better see the computer screen.

“Okay, settings, and here’s the Apple ID,” You instruct, shuffling the piece of paper the peach-blonde had jotted down the fragments of the encoded message.

As directed, she opens the settings of the computer, typing the email of the apple ID into the text bar before clicking the next option.

“The password?” Her questioning gaze lifts to meet yours.

“Come find me, no space,” You answer with a knowing grin.

“No, she didn’t,” Soomin crowed, pressing both her palms on the desk, her faze holding an oddly amused yet annoyed expression.

Scoffing, the blonde enters the password, immediately scouring the settings for the “Find My Phone” feature once the program accepted the password.

“And there she is,” Airily, Soomin breaths out. The tracking feature promptly displayed the image of the phone’s location. A smile erupts on your face as you see all your hard work pay off. Your chest blooming with pride at your achievement, in such a short time frame no less.

However, the sense of victory is short-lived when you realize that someone could have easily taken Duri’s cell-phone and planted it in another location, possibly a trap. It wouldn’t be too difficult to do so. Not to mention it would make an incredibly effective trap as you would have no choice but to fall for the trap, that is if you wanted to retrieve Duri.

“(Y/n)?” Jimin calls your name, quickly noting your now crestfallen expression.

“The phone could have been planted,” You mumble. “This could be a trap,”

The energy of the room falls, just as yours had, before a honeyed voice chime in.

“Then why don’t we have people scout the area from afar?” The charcoal-haired man that had later entered the scene suggests.

“And you are?” You ask the male standing across from you, beyond the desk. That was the man you had been caught ogling, his pitch-black locks falling to the side with the slight tilt of his head.

“Ri Hyuk, but please call me Hyuk (L/n)-ssi” He introduces himself with a soft bow.

“Oh, and you already know me?” Surprise lacing your tone, unaware that word about yourself had spread in the mafia community.

“With my line of work it would be strange for me to not know,” Chuckling softly, Hyuk pushes his fists into the pockets of his slacks.

“Right,” An awkward replay leaves your lips, unsure of how to react as the male stared daggers into you. His gaze was sharp, plush lips curling into a foxy smile. The more you interacted with the male the more he disconcerted you, you could feel his eyes appraising you, analyzing you. That man may have been handsome; he did not exude the warmth Jimin did, in fact, Hyuk’s presence brought a certain chill to the room.

“Okay so why don’t you give me the location you found and I’ll send out a team to scope out the place?” Namjoon offers, his voice bringing you back from your thoughts.

“Uh, yeah,” Your head turns to Soomin expectantly, your brain having ceased all function at the moment.

“Here, just take the computer,” She lifts the slender body of the laptop, handing the computer to the tall mafioso.

The room settles into a stifling silence as the group waits to hear back from the team Namjoon had sent out. You quietly sat on the sofas beside Jimin, toying with the straps of the holsters around your thighs.

“I have to say (L/n)-ssi, the way you solved the case was quite impressive,” Hyuk speaks, breaking the long quiet.

“Oh, uh, thank you,” Sheepishly grinning, you accept the praise before falling back into the silence. Only for the same male to break it once again with an interesting observation.

“I must say, Ji-Eun Duri has quite the taste in flowers,” Humming, Hyuk gestures to the vibrant yellow blossoms decorating the cylindrical lavender flower vase sitting on Duri’s desk.

“Huh?” With all that had been happening you had completely overlooked the beautiful blooms that gracefully sat on the older woman’s desk. You hadn’t realized the onyx haired woman had an interest in flowers.

“Tansies?” Out of sheer habit, your mind had automatically identified the vivid bloom. Your eyes widen, hearing your own words.

“(Y/n), what's wrong?!” Jimin exclaims when you spring out of your seat, your eyes trained on the seemingly harmless flora.

‘Tansies’

––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Tansy: Hostiliy; “I declare war against you,”

#mafia au!#mafia au #park jimin x reader #Mafia Park Jimin x reader #Park Jimin #bts mafia au #Mafia Park Jimin #Mafia Jin #mafia namjoon #mafia taehyung #mafia hoseok #mafia yoongi #mafia jungkook #Doctor reader kind of #Purple Irises #Mafia BTS #bts fic

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legendofzelda4life · 4 years

Text

Cake and Tears

Hello everybody, this was meant to be for yesterday (day seven).

It’s been a whole week. I hope you guys have enjoyed and will continue to.

Anyway this is a Blue/Red fluff (obvi platonic) I haven’t read the whole Four Swords manga but I have this feeling that Blue would be protective of Red.

Let’s go.

Also TW: mentions of r*pe (ik im an asshole for this plot)

------------------------------

“I swear to Din Vio, shut the fuck up.” Blue said to the calmest of the four versions of Link.

“Why should I? You suck at this.” Vio spoke, watching Blue. “I will not hesitate to kill you, V.”

Blue was holding the knife he was using to cut, yet another, failed attempt of a cake, to Vio’s chest.

“If Vio dies, we all die.” Green said from his seat on the bench.

“Works for me, means I won’t have to see you guys everyday.” Blue looked towards the green clad hero. “And will you please... get the fuck off my bench.” He shoved Green off the bench as he spoke. “You’re an idiot-”

Vio was cut off by Blue putting the knife back to his chest.

“Fine, kill me, but don’t come crying when you never get to see Red again.” Vio said. Blue’s eyes widened and the knife clattered to the ground. He then crossed his arms with a huff. “I wouldn’t care.” He said.

Lie.

“We know you like Red the most out of the three of us.” Vio said.

“Tch. I do not.”

Lie.

“Oh so you hate him then?” “Yes Vio, I despise him with every part of my being.” Blue laced his words with sarcasm.

“Mhm… turn around.” Vio said with a smirk, causing Blue to turn wearily, scared that Red was there. Instead, he was met with Green holding a perfectly made cake.

“Man! Fuck you for being able to cook.” Blue said with a laugh, taking the cake as it was shoved into his hands. “Yeah, yeah. Now go cheer up Red.” Green said.

“Do I have to?” He whined. If he was being completely honest, which he hated doing by the way, he’d tell them he loved making Red happy.

But that would ruin his reputation.

“YES!!!” Woah, a response from both of them.

Scary.

“Why?” He asked.

“You’re the only one that can cheer up Red when he’s like this.” Vio said, shoving a drink into Blue’s arms before pushing him out the kitchen.

Blue walked down the hall towards Red’s room, beginning to ponder. If he loves Red’s personality, is this self love? Or friendship? Blue ran out of time to think as he arrived in front of Red’s door.

“Red?” He called for the hero.

“Mmmmmmm.” Red groaned from inside the room. No, not one of those groans, you perverts. It was the ‘bitch-I-just-woke-up-fuck-you-want?’ groans.

“Can I come in?” “Yeah.” Red’s voice was hoarse. How much had he been crying?

Blue opened the door and walked in. Red was on his stomach but was facing the door.

“I brought cake?” Blue was so weary, the statement sounded more like a question. “Put it down and get out.” Red rolled over.

“Wow okay, I understand I was pulling Green’s voice but I really thought the tunic would give it away.” Blue said. Upon hearing his voice, Red sat up. “Cuddles?” He asked, reaching his arms out. Blue chuckled. It was quite adorable when Red was like this. He had always acted younger than the other three heroes but it was cute sometimes.

“Of course.”

Red excitedly moved over and patted a spot on the bed, where Blue layed with a chuckle. Red immediately cuddled into Blue, wrapping his arms around the others waist. “Wanna talk about it?” Blue asked. Red shook his head.

“I just want cuddles. Just let me stay like this for a while. Blue nodded silently before hugging Red back. They must’ve sat there for hours, even laying down at one point.

Suddenly Red shot up, looking around frantically, before pulling his knees to his chest and crying.

“Red?” Blue asked, reaching out for the other hero. He flinched slightly. “Sorry, sorry. It’s fine. I shouldn’t be crying. Go back to sleep” Red rubbed his face with one hand, removing his tears as he layed back down. What caused this? How often did it happen?

Was it every night?

Blue didn’t know. But what he did know was that, if Red putting his face into Blue’s chest and hugging him was anything to go off, he was really upset.

“What happened?” Blue himself didn’t even know what he was asking about. Was it about why Red was sad? Or was it about the dream?

“What?” Red asked. (this is where it reloaded the first time)

“What made you upset?” Blue asked, rubbing circles on the red-clad hero’s back. Red tensed up and Blue could basically feel the boy’s blood run cold. “You don’t have to tell me.” He blurted out quickly. “No, it’s okay.” Red took a deep breath in. “Remember that guy I was dating?” Blue nodded in response. He didn’t know too much about the guy, except the moment everyone layed eyes on him…

Blue and Vio did not like him.

Well, in Blue’s case, that’s underestimating it.

Blue hated - absolutely despised - the guy Red was with.

Vio thought it would have bad consequences once they go back together as Link but Blue just hated him. (i cant think of what to name him lmao)

“H-he- he…” Red’s voice became small. “He... did stuff to me Blue.” His voice rose back to it’s normal tone after this. “I didn’t want it. But afterwards, he left without a word.” Red broke down again.

Red was…

No, Blue didn’t want to believe it…

He couldn’t believe it…

How did Blue let this happen to one of his counterparts?

Let alone his favourite?

At this point, Blue had no doubt he was radiating heat considering how much that made his blood boil. He didn’t say anything, scared he would upset Red further, and just let the other boy cry into his chest.

“You wanna talk to Green or Vio?” Blue asked. Red shook his head. “They’ll be mad at me. I knew you and Vio didn’t like him but this? This would disappoint Green too.” Red hugged Blue tighter. “How did I let this happen, Blue? It’s my fault isn’t it? I never wanted it so he just did it...” Red trailed off, eyes full of terror as he recounted whatever events may have occurred.

Seeing that look on his face caused Blue to snap.

“None of this is your fault! He was an asshole that took advantage of you and I’m about this close to beating the absolute shit out of him!” Blue roared, jumping to his feet. “Your fingers are touching…” Red said, realization dawning upon him. “Exactly.” “Blue, no.” The boy wanted to argue but if Red said no, Red means no.

And unlike someone… Blue respected that.

“Okay.” He sat back on the bed, Red sitting next to him.

“What about the dream?” Blue asked. Red became extremely quiet. Blue turned to see the boy with tears running down his face, huddling further into Blue’s side. “You don’t have to-”

“Promise you won’t ever leave, Blue. Promise me!” Blue was surprised by Red’s words. Was the dream really that bad? “I promise I won’t leave you.” He said, looking the other hero in the eyes. “Good.”

Red fell asleep soon after but Blue couldn’t even close his eyes.

Blue had a plan but wanted to wait for Red to be okay with it first

Green walked in the room slowly.

“How is he?” He signed, wanting to be quiet. Blue put his hand sideways and made an ‘eh’ motion. Green just nodded slightly before walking back out.

A few days later

“You still wanna beat the shit outta him?” Red asked. The boy’s mood had brightened little by little over the past few days. He had decided to tell Vio and Green, with Blue’s help of course.

“Yes, but I wanna be the only one.” He looked to Green and Vio who didn’t object. Was his protectiveness of Red really that obvious? Probably. Did he care? No.

Blue stormed into the guy’s house.

“Oh hey Blue, where’s your brother?” Blue had actually forgotten they introduced themselves as siblings. “Not here.” Blue snarled. “Oh what a shame, it’s so cute when he begs for me to stop. Y’know-”

Yeah, Blue just punched this guy in the face.

“Stop. Fucking. Saying. Shit. About. Red. You. Fucking. Asshole.” With each word, there was a punch. Blue was holding the boy by the collar and was relentlessly bashing his face in. He then threw the guy at a wall, a sickening crack emitting from his, already broken, nose.

Blue then got on the ground next to him and kept throwing hits.

“You fucking piece of shit! What the fuck gave you the right to do that to Red, huh?!?!” He was fired up. Given, the guy probably couldn’t respond, but Blue was venting.

He was continuously punching the guy over and over, rebreaking already broken bones from the first few hits. The guy ended up with a shattered cheekbone, the other one also broken, an unhinged jaw, a broken nose, a black eye in the first stages of forming, a few missing teeth, and, no doubt, more than two broken ribs.

Blue dropped him to the floor.

“Fuck you.” He seethed through his teeth before walking out.

Let’s just say, nobody asked why Blue was covered in blood that, obviously, wasn’t his.

END

-----------------------------

This was a rollercoaster of emotions for me to write lol. I’m sorry if this triggered anyone in anyway.

I hope you guys at least enjoyed Blue beating the shit out of the fuckboy lmao.

LEAVE REQUESTS BELOW!

REQUESTS MUST INCLUDE: PAIRING TYPE/GENRE/CATEGORY (fluff, angst, etc) PLATONIC OR NOT

I WILL WRITE ONLY ABOUT THE LINKS (including the ravio, shadow, and requested characters. Will not write about whole other fandoms though)

I CAN DO READER INSERTS IF REQUESTED (no oc’s tho)

#tw #r*pe mention #four swords #blue link #red link #vio link #green link

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bigskydreaming · 4 years

Note

remember when devin grayson wrote about green arrow flirting with teenager dick grayson and then bruce and dick have an incestuous relationship............................

Listen, I have no idea what this ask says, I just see a string of random letters followed by dot dot dot.

In completely unrelated matters, the only dynamic between Dick and Ollie I abide by is one where the nicest thing Dick’s ever said to Ollie is something like “hey why does your face look like you killed a squirrel and glued it to your chin, is that what you were going for or do people just not like you and so nobody ever told you til now that that’s what it looks like.”

And even there, that’s still just the best Dick could manage (or was willing to even aim for) after Bruce gave Dick a totally and one hundred percent genuine and sincere Talking To about how he needed to be more polite to Ollie. Cuz the way I envision it, all that’s after Dick initially opened with something like, idk, “hey wanna hear a funny joke, it goes “what do you call a known Errol Flynn fanboy who thinks putting on a domino mask when he fights crime with a bow and arrow like, magically makes his goatee invisible? A dumbass who doesn’t get how secret identities work, that’s what. Get it, its you, you’re the joke.”

LOL for the record, I don’t actually hate Ollie and have no really strong opinions on him one way or another, it usually just depends on how he’s being written in whatever story or issue I’m reading with him. Its just canon that Ollie is like, one of the few people that Dick just openly can not stand, pretty much, with this stretching back far enough that personally, I like to headcanon it goes all the way back to even before Ollie took Roy in and has absolutely nothing to do with Roy whatsoever.

Idk, its just really fucking funny to me to picture that like, for whatever reason, ten year old Dick Grayson decided upon meeting the Justice League that they were all awesome except for Oliver Queen. Dick doesn’t know why, he doesn’t care why, he just knows that like, “I do not care for that Oliver Queen guy, not one bit, and no, I am not open to constructive criticism on this matter, UGH BRUCE STOP TELLING ME I SHOULD AT LEAST TRY AND BE NICER TO HIM, I SAID HE WAS A BUTTFACE AND I MEANT IT, WHERE’S THE CONFUSION.”

Because see, while Ollie is not Actually The Worst, he IS one of the League heroes who is prideful and petty enough to like, absolutely take offense to someone hating his guts for no discernible reason, while considering this more than reason enough to hate their guts right back. Even if that particular someone happens to have both miles and years left to go before they hit either puberty or the top side of five feet tall, and thus in the meanwhile, Ollie must literally lower himself in every sense of the word in order to return fire at his pint-sized and prepubescent critic.

Like, if Dick for whatever reason decided he just doesn’t like Superman or the Flash and he’s not gonna and you can’t make him, then I mean, Clark or Barry or someone else along those lines would just be like, oh, okay, that’s fair I guess. No, its totally fine Bruce, the adorable little human incarnation of glitter, cotton candy and all things Cute and Precious and Wee that you just took in is allowed to hate me if he wants to, its absolutely *wheezing sob* not a big deal. I’m a big boy, I don’t need you to intercede on my behalf with him. Now if anyone needs me, I’ll be wallowing in my room for the next 84 years, trying to figure out if I was some kind of monstrous puppy-kicker in a previous lifetime and that’s why my fate here in this one is to be despised by a ten year old with the superpower of Absolute Preciousness. Its my punishment, clearly, for being just the worst kind of monster to ever exist, the only kind that could actually be hated by someone like your adorable little Fun-Sized sidekick of joy and sunshine and l-l-laughter......no, don’t look at me, I’m hideous! *bursts into tears and scurries away to hide from the light*

But see now, Ollie, on the other hand, like.....he’s not a monster but he’s not about to let even some paragon of preciousness go around painting him as one. Why the fuck does he spend so much money on publicists if he’s just gonna roll over belly-side up the first time one of the people bad-mouthing him just happens to be like, a toddler instead of the usual TMZ?

So Ollie’s not about to admit that he’s actually miffed and even a little bit wounded that this cherub who seems to like even most supervillains more than he likes Ollie, just like, can not seem to be in his presence longer than sixty seconds before drawing his weapons and stabbing Ollie with words that hurt, dammit, because he has feelings too, y’know, he spent a lot of money on pricey therapists figuring out that yes, those are feelings he’s feeling and he can even name some of them.....

Like, he’s not quite on board with actually ACKNOWLEDGING that hey this stings, and that he really just wants to know what the hell this kid’s deal is and why don’t you like me, tiny human, what did I ever even do to you??? But all of that is like......Advanced Level Therapy stuff that he hasn’t quite gotten around to finishing yet at this point in time. Like yeah he’s already dropped a mint on the A-list of the head-shrinking world by now, but apparently he was supposed to keep coming back or something like that, they all keep making a really big deal about that for some reason, and look, he’s been busy. So he really just hasn’t had the time to finish up the course on How To Make Peace With the Fact That Sometimes Tiny Humans Don’t Like Me Even Though I’m A Fucking Delight, Dammit.

But even if the why of this kid getting under his skin so much eludes him for the nonce, Ollie is perfectly clear on one thing: he doesn’t typically go around making enemies of the twelve and under set, but if you prick him, he doth in fact bleed, you little prick. So if this knee-high nightmare is gonna keep coming at me and trying to start shit, then I am more than willing to throw down, is basically Ollie’s take here.

“He wants to dance? Then c’mon, let’s do this thing. We can dance if he wants to. I’ve got the time,” Ollie says to himself and any other nearby Justice Leaguer who might be looking at him with that swiftly-becoming-familiar expression of mingled judgment, pity, exasperation and something a bit more ambiguous but which probably lands somewhere in the ballpark of “We honestly don’t know what to make of all of this but we’re all a little concerned This Is Not A Good Look, Bro. And also, we would like to formally request by way of this petition with all 200+ signatures of Leaguers and auxiliary members and support staff: please don’t escalate this into something where Batman might actually kill you, because that’s definitely not gonna make any of this less awkward for the rest of us, and uh....not to be indelicate here, but all those times we’ve all said things like no Ollie, we don’t think Bruce is a better fighter than you and we absolutely agree with you, you could totally maybe take him in a fair fight if you had your bow and arrows on you and he had the flu probably.....like. Umm. How to put this....Okay, soooooo....here’s the thing. There may, perhaps, ever so slightly be a possibility slash definite hardcore certainty that there were fib-like qualities to those conversations. A little bit. Oh hey, look at the time, we gotta run, there’s a fire somewhere, hopefully. Lol wait whoops did we say hopefully, that’s so weird like where did that even come from. We definitely meant to say probably. There’s a fire somewhere, probably."

But look, at the end of the day, the thing is, Headcanon Ollie is not like, proud of any of this, but he’s not unproud of it either. He is hashtag justified and he wouold appreciate some validation of that Ugly Truth, even if it might go against the grain and not ever exactly be a POPULAR opinion with the “please don’t tell the ten year old that nuh uh, his face looks like a hairy butthole, nobody wins there, that is not the victory you are looking for” crowd.

Honestly though, at this point Ollie’s list of Big Asks is quite small. Miniscule, even. All he wants, all he really really wants, is for someone, anyone, to join him in grasping the one essential corn kernel at the heart of this whole clusterfuck. The thing that nobody but Ollie seems to get and that Ollie’s pretty sure would be enough to allow him to die happily, if he could just manage to find one other person to sign on to the one single extremely obvious observation he keeps trying to point out to everyone, with a whole lot of nada to show for it:

Because see, the one thing about all of this that drives Ollie just absolutely up a wall, is that for some reason he can’t seem to get anyone to understand that like.....this whoooooole ridiculous mess, just like, even in terms of its very existence in the first place?

None of it is Ollie’s fault.

Dick started it!

Mere moments after frustratedly trying to convey this to Dinah for the umpteenth million bajillionth time:

“Okay, could you at least say something?” Ollie asked exasperatedly. “Anything? Seriously, I would take you counting to ten in Cantonese as an acceptable response at this point.”

“I’m just trying to decide which concerns me more,” Dinah said at last. Several epochs and the equivalent of the entire Jurassic Period later. But whatever, its not like Ollie was holding his breath at this point or anything. “The fact that you are genuinely trying to find and occupy the moral high ground in your feud with....a ten year old. Or that you actually think you’ve found it. That this is it, this is what that looks like. ‘The ten year old started it.’”

That was apparently all Dinah had to say. She fell silent again, and said silence lingered through a recreation of now the entire Cretaceous Period, before continuing into a revival of the whole Paleozoic Era from start to torturous finish.

“Well?” Ollie said with a patience that belied the urgency of the many pressing matters he had to attend to. Like the vanquishing of a ten year old archnemesis most foul.

Dinah just continued to frown pensively.

“Hang on, I’m still deciding.”

68 notes · View notes

exhaustedfander · 4 years

Note

moxiety with fake dating? mayhaps with some gay panicking because ahhh cute stranger hold hngg hand??

I was having such stupid technical difficulties ith Word, but here it is, sorry it’s been like three weeks, lol. I’d love to hear what you think!

a03 link

word count: 3,008

Fake it Till You Make it

Virgil’s always careful whilst staking out a seat in the coffee shop he frequents. He makes sure not to sit in an area that’s too crowded, as to bypass unnecessary human-contact, while simultaneously avoiding the table too close to the door that lets a draft in. He’s been coming here a long time now, as it’s the closest place to his College, as well as the fact that the coffee is reasonably priced, and the atmosphere is pretty damn cozy. Also… there’s a barista that happens to be the cutest man Virgil’s ever laid his eyes on, but that’s beside the point!

By now, all of the staff know his order – a cinnamon Cappuccino with enough whipped cream to drown in – like the back of their hands, so he has to worry about social interaction a lot less than usual. The adorable barista in question, Patton, has only ever taken his order, sweet as can be while doing so, but Virgil’s never really talked to the guy. Not that he plans on it! That is waaay too nerve-racking to so much as think about, thank you very much. Sure, he can get lost in those ocean-blue eyes and often fantasizes about running his hand through those strawberry-blonde curls but talking to him is strictly out of the question. He likes this coffee spot and would really hate to have to find a new shop all because he’s made a fool of himself.

So, it’s not hard to imagine Virgil’s utter shock when he finds that very same barista standing beside him, a dazzling smile on his face.

“Is this seat taken?” He asks, in reference to the chair beside him, and Virgil’s fairly sure he forgets how to breathe for a moment.

“Uh – no,” he manages to stutter, “It’s all yours, man.” The barista grins, sitting beside him.

“Thanks… Virgil, right?” Virgil blinks surprised he’d remember something as inconsequence as his name.

“Yeah,” Virgil says, “My, uh, friends call me Virge. You can, too, if you wanted to.” Virgil despises the way his voice is trembling; why is he so fucking nervous? It’s just basic, human, social interaction (with the most beautiful man to grace this Earth, but basic, human social interaction nonetheless)

“Sure, thing, Virge. I’m Patton,” he says, as though Virgil hadn’t memorized the name on his nametag the moment, he saw him. “I like your pin, by the way.”

Virgil glances down at the Bisexual pin on his backpack, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. It’s not like he’s missed the rainbow shirt he’s seen peeking out from behind Patton’s apron sometimes – an apron he doesn’t currently have on, meaning he’s off the clock, also meaning instead of going home, he’s sitting here, talking to him. So, yeah, Patton’s probably gay, and he’s talking to him, but that doesn’t actually mean anything. It doesn’t stop Virgil from panicking quite a bit, though.

“Thanks,” Virgil says, trying his absolute hardest to keep his cool. He’s wanted to talk to Patton for so long, but he hadn’t imagined it would ever actually happen.

“You come here a lot, huh?” Patton asks. Virgil rubs at the back of his neck, struggling to maintain eye-contact.

“Uh- yeah. This is a cool place, and it’s not too far from my school.” Virgil fails to mention the fact that Patton’s a big reason he comes in nearly daily, thinking such a detail might come off as super creepy.

As awkward as Virgil is, a conversation is struck up. He learns that Patton is a student at his college, too (How the fuck did he manage to miss a face like that??) and that he’s studying to be a Veterinarian, which Virgil finds a little funny, considering he’s terribly allergic to cats. Patton’s a big fan of dad-jokes and puns, and while he can try and groan, it just manages to make Patton all the more adorable. He also discovers that yes, Patton is gay and that he first came about a year ago.

“Yeah, my parents weren’t too thrilled,” Patton says in a voice that’s desperately trying to stay chipper, but the sorrow creeps in all the same, “They still aren’t.”

“Mine either,” Virgil says before he really knows what he’s saying, “I haven’t, uh, talked to them in a long time. I might never again, honestly.” A look of sympathy crosses Patton’s face, though it’s clear that he relates, maybe more than he wants to admit to himself.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Virge.”

Virgil shrugs. It’s nothing new. He came out to his parents at seventeen, a choice that was quite the feat considering the level of anxiety he suffers from, and it hadn’t gone well at all. His folks hadn’t kicked him out, but they’d insisted that he was never to take a boy home. At first, Virgil had tried to get on their good side, they were his parents, after all. But it didn’t take long for him to realize what a fruitless venture that was. They weren’t going to change, regardless of how much he wanted them to.

Once he got to college, he had an opportunity to meet a few really great people, despite his social-anxiety, individuals who had shown him how important it is to have positive relationships in life. At this point, it could undo a few years of positive change to let his parents back into his life, and Virgil wasn’t about to go and do a thing like that.

“It’s alright,” he says, “They’re assholes, anyway. I got some pretty cool relatives though, and some really good friends, so that helps.” Patton frowns, and suddenly Virgil decides he despises the sad expression on him, wondering what the hell he could do to make it go away.

“My parents are assholes too,” Patton murmurs, as though saying such a word is incomprehensively bad, and as if Virgil hadn’t said it too about three seconds ago. “They really are. I’ve been trying. Trying so hard to be patient with them and allow them time to adjust but… it just isn’t happening. They’re still talking about when I end up with “some lucky lady.” I don’t know…” Patton pauses, his eyes widening, “Oh my goodness, I’m sorry.” Virgil tilts his head.

“What for?”

“For dumping all that on you. I mean, we hardly know each other. It was rude of me.”

“Nah, man, you’re good. I was just talking about my parents, there’s no reason to apologize. And I should know, I’m kind of the king of apologizing for shit I didn’t do.” Patton cracks a small smile at that, and Virgil swells with a pit too much pride. “My point is, you didn’t overshare, or anything. We’re just having a conversation, you’re good, I promise.” Patton looks relieved.

“Thanks, Virgil. You’re really nice.” Virgil’s heart can’t help but soar a little bit at that. Sometimes, he’s convinced he’s a massive asshole, despite his friends insisting that it isn’t. but it’s really nice to know that Patton thinks he’s nice.

“No prob, Pat. You’re nice too.”

“Well then, I’m glad we were able to break the nice,” Patton says, earning a half-hearted groan. “I’ve kinda wanted to talk to you for a while, actually.” Virgil’s heart skips a beat.

“R-really? Why?”

“Because,” Patton says with a smile, “You always seemed so interesting. Mentioning your Pin was, uh, kind of just an excuse to talk to you,” Patton admits and, holy shit, is he flirting?! Virgil can’t tell, but sirens are going off in his head regardless.

“I – uh,” Virgil bites his tongue, trying to come up with a dignified response of some kind, but failing to do so. “Thanks?” Despite Virgil’s criminal lack of tact, Patton just smiles, a look that quickly disappears when he gets a notification and checks his phone.

“What’s up?” Virgil asks, before realizing it’s hardly his business. He’s known Patton for what? An hour or so now – oh my god, Patton’s been talking to him for over an hour – and that doesn’t give Virgil the authority to inquire upon the barista’s personal life beyond what he’s already been told. Patton shakes his head.

“My cousin Dalilah getting married next week,” Patton explains, despite Virgil’s hesitation, “She’s one of the only family members who I’m really close to; she’s such a sweetheart.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“My mom and dad are going to be at the wedding,” Patton sighs, “And I don’t have a date. If I show up without some guy on my arm, I know they’re just gonna assume that the crisis is over, and they can set me up with the next available girl. They already think me being gay is a phase, this is all the reason they need to think the phase is over.” A sad look flickers in Patton’s eyes and instantly, all logic or uncertainty that Virgil’s clinging to goes out the window.

“What if I was your date?” Patton’s eyes go as wide as saucers and, oh shit, he really just said that aloud.

“W-what?”

“L-like a fake date,” Virgil backpedals, his heart rate spiking in a matter of seconds, “So t-that your parents aren’t dicks to you. Or at least, are less of dicks.”

For a moment, Virgil almost dares to think that the explanation made Patton look kinda… disappointed? Not that it would make much sense, it’s not like he’d actually want Virgil to be his date.

“Virgil you… you can’t be serious.”

“Well, why not?” Virgil asks, knowing he’s most probably going to regret this later, “You’re a cool guy who’s in a shitty situation. Your parents are going to be relentless to you, and I don’t like the idea of that, so… why don’t I make things a little easier for you?” Virgil says, impressed he gets through it without feeling as anxious as he had a few moments ago.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Patton mumbles guiltily, his eyes cast on the table, “I wouldn’t want you to sacrifice your weekend just for me.”

“Pat, I was just gonna aimlessly scroll through Tumblr till two in the morning and watch shitty TV. And– erm– being your fake date sounds a lot more interesting to me.” (Not to mention nerve-racking!) Patton meets Virgil’s gaze once more, relief etched into his features.

“You’d really be willing to do this?” Patton asks, “You don’t need to, you know.”

“I want to,” Virgil assures. “So, what do you say?” Patton thinks for a moment before that beautiful smile spreads across his face anew.

“That sounds perfect! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Patton says, standing up from his chair and throwing his arms around the emo, “You’re a lifesaver, Virgil!” Virgil stiffens in the awkward embrace, before accepting it to the best of his ability, trying not to freak out because Patton fucking Hart is hugging him!

“Sure thing, Pat.”

After that, arrangements are made. As it turns out, Patton isn’t the biggest fan of lying, hates it, honestly, which makes things a little trickier. But a compromise is come to that they met each other in the Coffee shop, which was true and had been on a few dates prior to the wedding. While that wasn’t technically true (God does Virgil wish it was) they do spend several days throughout the week hanging out and getting to know one another. And within those few days, Virgil’s infatuation with Patton inflames to a full-on crush which is just great.

Getting better acquainted with him, Virgil finds himself quickly getting used to Patton’s bubbly personality. He’s eager to pet every dog he comes into contact with, he enjoys baking quite a bit, though he’s not great at it, he’s adorably awkward in the best ways and he’s one of the kindest, most genuine people Virgil’s ever met.

Usually, Virgil’s so well-guarded, but with Patton, he’s opening up quicker and more willingly than he has in such a long time. Patton listens with such compassion, and while Virgil’s really happy to have the other friends that he does, he’s never met someone as sweet as Patton is. It’s almost a little overwhelming at times, how caring he is.

Before they know it, the day is upon them. Virgil gets a rental suite while trying not to swoon at Patton in his sky-blue tux, because really, how is it legal for him to look that cute?

Patton grabs his hand the moment they walk into the venue, sending Virgil a careful glance and squeezing his hand just slightly.

“This okay?” He whispers, ever the compassionate one, and Virgil nods.

“Yeah, ‘s okay.” Virgil can’t recall the last time someone held his hand, and he certainly can’t remember the number of times he’s imagined Patton holding his hand, prior to them even being friends.

They take their seats, and the ceremony proceeds as usual. It’s beautiful, not that Virgil is paying too much attention, distracted by Patton’s nervous glances toward an older couple that must be his folks.

“Hey, are you alright?” Virgil asks quietly. Patton forces a smile, his eyes trained on his cousin and her fiancé.

“Yeah, I’m – I’m fine,” – he doesn’t sound fine –, “It’s just…” Patton trails off, his gaze flickering back to his parents for a moment. Virgil places his hand over Patton’s, who’s trembling is noticeable immediately. Carefully, Virgil runs his thumb over Patton’s knuckles in an even, circular motion. Luckily, it seems to calm Patton down to a degree, and he doesn’t take his eyes off of Dalilah for the rest of the ceremony.

However, almost immediately upon the afterparty starting, they’re cornered by Mr. and Mrs. Hart.

“Patton, you didn’t come and say hello,” his mother scolds.

“Well, there were a lot of people,” Patton says nervously, “I figured we’d –.”

“Who’s this?” Patton’s father interrupts, gesturing to Virgil standing beside him.

“Virgil Storme,” Virgil says as calmly as he’s able, extending a hand for the father to shake. Mr. Hart’s hand remains rigid at his side. “I’m Patton’s boyfriend. It’s nice to meet you.”

Virgil can’t help but notice as anxiety wells up inside of him because, fuck, they’d never said they were going to call each other boyfriend’s, just that they’d been on a few dates, but Mr. Hart had such a smug look and he couldn’t help it. Despite his raging internal monologue, Patton plants a hand onto the small of his back, lips curling into a smile.

“That’s right,” Patton says, “Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend.”

The look of slackened shock on their faces would be priceless, weren’t it for the fact that these are still Patton’s parents, individuals who’ve had a direct influence on him throughout the entirety of his life.

“You’ve never – you’ve never mentioned a boyfriend before,” Patton’s mother says, glaring at her son.

“And certainly not one who looks like some kind of a hooligan,” Mr. Hart grits, gesturing to Virgil’s dyed purple hair and pierced ears. Virgil intends to let the insult go, as it would only cause more trouble to confront it, but Patton has other ideas.

“Hey, you have no right to talk like that about Virgil,” Patton says, an edge to his voice that Virgil had yet to hear until now. Virgil grips for Patton’s hand, lacing their fingers together and giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“How long has this been going on, sweetie?” Mrs. Hart chimes in, though it’s unclear if she’s referring to Virgil himself, or Patton’s sexuality as a whole. Either way, it’s a poor choice of words.

“My whole life, mom,” Patton spits, a venomous tone that would surely be louder if they weren’t at a wedding, “I’ve been gay my whole life, and nothing is going to change that.”

“But –.”

“But, nothing,” Patton interrupts boldly, “I’m not having this conversation, not again. If you can’t accept the fact that I’m never going to end up with ‘some nice girl,’ and that Virgil is absolutely wonderful, then we haven’t got anything to talk about.”

The words are a slap across Mr. and Mrs. Hart's face, who reel back in shock.

“Patton, son –.”

“Goodbye,” Patton says, realizing it might very well be the last time he says it. He begins walking out of the reception and Virgil follows close behind. They make it outside, and luckily there’s no one else around.

“Pat… are you okay?” Virgil asks, reaching out to touch Patton’s shoulder.

“I’m done, Virgil. I’m done being gentle for them, I’m done pretending. It’s not worth it.” Pride wells in Virgil, even though he’s known Patton a little less than a week.

“Well, then, I can tell you that was amazing! You kicked ass, Patton! Did you see the stupid look on their faces? They were so –.” Virgil is quickly interrupted when Patton’s lips collide against his, fingers gripping his lapels. Virgil needs a second to adjust and realize this is actually happening before he kisses back just as fervidly, his hands threading in Patton’s curls that are soft to the touch, just as he’d always imagined.

“We’re – we’re not still pretending, right?” Virgil asks dumbly, and Patton shakes his head with a laugh, light, and airy.

“No, no of course not. Unless… you want it to be pretend?”

“No! God, n-no! You’re amazing, Pat, you’re so kind, and soft and good and cute and… oh god, I’m rambling.” Patton giggles again, and Virgil decides it’s one of the best sounds he’s had the pleasure of hearing.

“It’s cute.”

“You’re cuter.”

“No, you are.”

The never-ending debacle of who is cuter is decidedly ended when their lips meet again, and Virgil’s positive this outweighs anything fantasy had to offer.

In the end, Patton hasn’t told a lie. Virgil is his boyfriend, even if they didn’t start the day out that way. The two walk back into the venue, hand-in-hand, watching as the Hart’s avert their eyes and Patton happily introduces Virgil to the family and friends who matter.

Virgil’s never been so glad he walked into that coffee shop.

=+=

Taglist:

@nadiestar

@unoriginalgayboyalex

@maryann-draws

Please let me know if you wanna be added to my general taglist! I’d be happy to add folks!

#moxiety #romantic moxiety #human au #Virgil Sanders #Patton Sanders #fake dating #technically coffee shop au #I mean Pat's a barista #TW homophobia #TW homophobic parents #fluff #lotsa fluff #angst/fluff #Virgil's got it baaad #this was a fun one #request #exhaustedfander writes #exhaustedfander

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lululawrence · 4 years

Text

Creation Inspiration Meme

This one is for all my creators out there, be it fanfiction, fanart, original fiction, music, whatever! All of us are a conglomeration of lived experiences and consumption of others’ creations over our lifetimes. What five biggest inspirations have you consumed that now lives on in what you make, and how?

I was tagged to do this by @londonfoginacup like... omg exactly a month ago, i’m that big of a slacker i’m so sorry lollll anyway, i’m gonna do my best!!! (i’m also putting this under a cut because it got LONG i’m so sorry)

1. Every Single Thing Susanna Kearsley Has Ever Written Ever

Like I wish I was joking, but truly I love and adore everything she’s ever touched. Ever. lollll The way she weaves such intricate storylines and makes them feel so incredibly real and absolutely possible even as she inserts such wonderful fantastical and historical fiction (but are they actually fiction??? lol) elements and stories into her tellings of such real characters that are very solidly in our world is stunning and inspiring. Please ignore that stupidly long sentence lol she makes me wax poetic. Anyway, I’d like to think that what I was able to draw from her was the ability to take any story and make it feel real. To take a story that is based in our world and even after adding in different aspects that are clearly fantasy or otherwise something that doesn’t belong and make you think it could. That would be wonderful.

2. Nana Upstairs and Nana Downstairs by Tomie dePaola

Tomie dePaola was a favorite author in my house growing up, but I was the one that clung to him the most. Strega Nona were probably his more popular stories, but my favorite always was Nana Upstairs and Nana Downstairs. This book particularly was such a beautiful depiction of relationships and family even amidst the sadness at the end. What I hope that I was able to draw from Tomie was the ability to take small and seemingly unimportant moments and drawing the reader in to care about them as much as he clearly did. So much of what he wrote was based on his own life, especially this book, and he gave us detailed insight into very specific memories that I would never have cared about in most instances. I hope that I too can share moments that might seem small and inconsequential and make them interesting and important to the reader.

3. The Truth About Forever by Sarah Dessen

I discovered Sarah Dessen in college when I finally rediscovered reading for fun and because I wanted to as I finished my English degree. I had gotten so used to reading material that I was required to, that was often heavy and hard to slog through and I was tired. I wasn’t reading for fun anymore. So I went to the library and randomly chose a book that sounded fun and lighthearted and something I didn’t have to put so much energy into. It was this book. I devoured it. It was such a quick read and so simple when it comes to actual story, but the emotions behind it made it so much more. It was compelling and the backstory of all of the characters made them all have so much depth and gave such importance to all of the decisions the characters made. I would love to think I am able to give that same power and weight to my own characters and that I’m able to make their own choices and who they are be as compelling and understandable as she does with hers.

4. Everything Jane Austen Ever Wrote

Yes, again. lollll But truly, her skill with narrating with such epic tongue in cheek attitude the lives of women in her time was beyond brilliant. She took what was good and to be revered and portrayed it in such a way that even now we still want to know all about it. Her complete humor in all of it (okay, most... my two favs by her are Mansfield Park and Persuasion, which are actually less comical than pretty much all of her others lol) is absolutely something I hope to attain. It’s subtle and intelligently done. I’d like to think that I’m able to take similar observations and digs at situations and characters in ways that aren’t harsh but are still comical and amusing to the reader like Jane.

5. so may books i disliked so much that i didn’t finish and cannot name them

Honestly the books I despised and felt were poorly written were almost bigger inspiration to me than anything, because I always wanted to write, but never really felt I could. There were such amazing stories out there in what felt like insanely high numbers. What could I ever contribute? But reading some of those books that somehow got published made me think maybe... just maybe... if someone thought those stories deserved to be told mine could too. And now I write fic and I really do feel like that I do have stories that deserve to be told, and so does everyone else.

Thank you to any of you who read this far lol I know this was ridiculously long. I have no idea if anyone has done this or not, but I’m going to tag a few people now just in case. @louisxgolden, @joliepetitelou, @louandhazaf, @disgruntledkittenface, @pasmwa, @harrehleh, @2tiedships2, and @dinosaursmate!

#mine #about me #writing stuff #kinda #lol

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seokjinchuriki · 5 years

Text

baby, you is a vampire? (2) | jjk

Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 927

Genre: Honestly crack! Fluff.

Summary: you, reader, meet jeon jungkook on a fine summer's day and wow, after a year of dating! you learn he's a vampire! how dumb could you have been? WOW vampires are real!

Warnings: None lol

a/n: this is basically a series of drabbles yayay wowow of you and vampire!jk

1 2 3 4 5

—

"So... everything I know about vampires is a lie?" You asked, cuddled up to Jungkook, you were adamant on learning EVERYTHING, you had even asked if he eats human food for fun during sex and you know, being the wonderful boyfriend he is, he tolerated it, also answering that yes, he does and it still tastes good, but it doesn't help him at all.

"Mhmm, except the thing about my reflection, can't see shit- I haven't seen myself in 100 years, and I can walk in the sun, sure, I'm a creature of the night, but that has been debunked, I went to the beach with you." Jungkook was happy to tell you most days, other days he just wanted to cuddle because despite being someone who survives off blood and is over 100 years old, he's baby.

Your big baby.

He had told you, that ever since meeting you, his body became warm and that's why cuddling with him isn't like cuddling with Edward Cullen from Twilight.

You were the Bella Swan of your own story, minus how emotionless she was. Kristen Stewart is honestly not that bad of actor, in the Twilight books, Bella is known for not showing her emotions very well! Anyway, back to the matter at hand.

"Did you know I love you?" Jungkook said, suddenly, causing you to nod, he smiled his cute, adorable bunny smile.

"Yeah, I do and I love you more, Jungoo!" You sat up, clutching your chest with your hand (lol what else would you clutch it with?), pretending to be hurt, "the... love- I have for you is too strong!" you huffed, being a little annoying, but Jungkook still loved you despite the fact that you do things he doesn't necessarily understand... he's been alive for so long and you're harder to solve than a Rubik's cube. You then dropped onto the bed, pretending to be dead, a result of loving the man too hard.

He decided to act along with you, holding your fake-frail body in his arms.

"No! The love of my life! Dead! And I wasn't the one to kill her- God, this cruel world! WHyyyyyyy- Wait... now I can throw that ugly, mean hairless cat ou-" And before he could finish his sentence, you jumped out his arms, gasping.

"HOw are you! How...How dare you? Mr. Wrinkles has done nothiNG WRONG!" Mr. Wrinkles was the cat you adopted when you moved in together, and despite him wanting something fluffy and cute, you were immediately attracted to the devil in disguise, formally named Rick, but you decided Mr. Wrinkles was a better name for him.

Of course, Mr. Wrinkles liked you, but he absolutely despised Jungkook, maybe the cat knew that the male living with him was a vampire and he wouldn't hesitate to claw his eyes out for you. His lovely owner, who took care of him and all of his naked glory.

"Ma'am... have you met Mr. Wrinkles? He's the devil in disguise!!" Jungkook exclaimed, his doe eyes widening.

"I mean, I wouldn't know if he was- It took me three years of friendship and a year of dating to find out that you're a vampire..." you trailed off, now thinking back to the signs, "and even if he was, he is a protector of our home!"

Jungkook was damned, if he wasn't so in love, that cat would be long gone and replaced with something else, a snake would be nicer to him than that cat, but here he was.

"And now that the cat's out of the bag [a/n: i can't breathe, why is this so funny to me-], I can be protector of the home! I have fangs and super strength and speed." He said, but you were giggling, laughing about how you were both discussing the placement of your cat in this home and how he used the phrase, 'the cat's out of the bag', you were hopeless sometimes. [just like this story lol]

"GASP! It's been a few days and I still haven't asked you this!" You were speaking so loudly, your words coming out a jumbled mess due to your excitement, and you were kind of spitting in Jungkook's face, but you didn't notice, not even when he wiped it off with his hand.

"How do you drink blood? No- Wait, let me rephrase that-" You were a mess, but a cute one, with your pajamas on, specifically the ones with Ryan the Maneless Lion on them, your hair messily laying atop your head. You were honestly thinking a little too long, since what you were trying to ask wasn't even that hard to rephrase, but your mind was going boop boop beep beep.

"Where do you even go to drink blood?" You asked, sneezing right after, for whatever reason.

"Well, we vampires have been coexisting with you humans for decades, there's a cafe nearby that adds little drops of blood to your drink if you ask." Jungkook was suddenly, and weirdly, speaking in a southern accent, maybe to make you laugh or just because the sentence he spoke called for it.

You just started imagining him in a cowboy hat and boots, but your brain pulled a 180 and started thinking about Doodlebob from Spongebob.

"You know, in Twilight, how all the vampires have a specific set of powers? Do you have those?"

Jungkook nodded, "my very, VERY special power is to love you, baby!" and with that, he was pulling you into his arms and kissing you all over your face.

—

a/n: i enjoy writing these woowow

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #park jimin #kim namjoon #jung hoseok #min yoongi #kim taehyung #kim seokjin #bts x reader #jeongguk #bts writings #bts #bangtan #bangtan seonyeondan

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twilightofthe · 5 years

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Tell me ALL your SW faves

Aaaaaa thank you! This took a while cuz this got long, lol sorry! Aight, so here’s ALL my SW faves for this ask prompt list!

FAVE MOVIE: Revenge of the Sith. 10000%. It just has everything! You get to see the Obikin relationship in all its glory, first and foremost, how much those two loved each other more than anything and knew each other better than anyone, and just how much they genuinely got along and then we got our hearts broken watching them have to fight after Anakin made his Goof Of The Millennium and just oooooof all the feels about my boys! Seeing Padmé and just loving her so gotdang much for being strong and wanting the best life for everyone, all while she was so scared and had so little support from anyone, and just couldn’t do it in the end. Seeing the end of the Republic, how after a thousand years, just, *poof*, just like that in like two days (yes, I know Sidious was planning it for over a decade but still), the horrific fascination on how Sidious was able to do that. Just the brilliance of Sheev’s character, how you despise him, but how brilliantly everything was pulled off. The angst of Order 66, how especially after TCW you love these characters SO MUCH and then you gotta watch them DIE HORRIBLY BY THOSE THEY TRUSTED, THOSE WHO NEVER HAD A CHOICE EITHER. Did I mention feeling so freaking bad for Obi Wan and his Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day??? Because I really do, he’s so good and kind and we see his life fall apart and ugh I love him. And y’all, watching Anakin Skywalker fall from grace like the brightest angel he was, you hate him for what he did, but you still can’t help but love him and cry for him and his loss because he was so good, and he did not deserve all this to happen to him but he did it to HIMSELF AAAAGGHHHH. Also, Obes and Ani were at peak prettiness this movie!! Just asdfkjglkdskajsrlk best movie love so diggity dang much

FAVE PAIRING: Oh, how EVER will I choose– Obikin. It’s Obikin, all the way, no contest. I know I’ve yelled about it a million and one times so I’ll save y’all the rant on how much I adore these disasters and their relationship and how I think they’re goddamn soulmates and the most interesting dynamic in the entire Saga. I ship them romantically and platonically and just everything, they’re so fucking important to one another and that’s why it hurts so much to watch them fall apart, and that’s why I’m so incredibly happy that they get to canONICALLY SPEND THEIR ENTIRE AFTERLIFE TOGETHER BECAUSE FORCE GHOSTS HELL YEAH. If I had to pick just secondary fave romantic and platonic relationships, hmmmm that’s hard. BUT, I’m gonna have to go with Kanera for romantic; SWR was what got me back into Star Wars and one of my favorite parts of it was watching Kanan and Hera, how much I loved them separately, but just how much they were a team together and I love them and I was unbelievably upset when Jedi Night happened (and I still have a rant about how animated Star Wars kills off their romantic couples in the exact same manner, pls ask me about how TCW’s The Lawless and Rebels’ Jedi Night had basically all of the same plot points that ended in killing off a romantic lead). For other fave platonic relationship, gonna have to go with Luke/Han/Leia BROT3 (separate from Hanleia as a romance, which is probs my 3rd fave). These disasters were the original Golden Trio, they saved the galaxy together all while yelling dramatically and having each other’s backs to the bitter end (or, at least ‘till the end of ROTJ lol) and I just love them as a team so dang much

FAVE TV SHOW EPISODE: Okay, since there are four TV shows, it’s only fair for me to pick one (or more don’t judge me) from each! Let’s see, from The Clone Wars, my fave eps have to be the entire Mortis trilogy arc in S3 because Obes/Ani/Snips family dynamic, Force Shenanigans, BEAUTIFUL scene designs, Anakin angst, just so many good things oof, and also Dooku Captured from S1, which I just adore because Obikin snark, annoying Grandpa Dooku, Hondo Fucking Ohnaka making everyone look so bad at their jobs, I just love it agh. Whoops that was technically four faves, so gotta do four for Rebels too! Gonna go wiiiiith World Between Worlds from S4 for Badass Ahsoka Tano, Ezra being brave and talented, Sheev being Absolutely Ridiculous, and just the overall Force Shenanigans cuz canon time travel y’all; The Lost Commanders from S2 because Rex is awesome, Kanan angst, and really good Kanan and Ezra bonding and Jedi awesomeness, Fire Across the Galaxy from S1 because of Ghost fam dynamics, Kanan angst, more Kanan and Ezra bonding, and just good stuff, and Twilight of the Apprentice in S2 (lol what about my username?) for being creepy and cool and maKING ME CRY ANAKIN YOU STUPID THRICE COOKED TOILET SEAT LEAVE AHSOKA ALONE. *cough* Ok, fine, I’ll stick with only one ep for the other two series. For Resistance, gonna have to go with the latest ep, actually! We get to see Kaz being clever and caring about his fam on the Colossus, really cool designs for Aeos and its people, Tam angst, and just everyone shining! For The Mandalorian, it’s gotta be the finale, Redemption, we get Din name, Armorer kicking everyones asses and me loving it, BABY YODA DOING THE HAND WAVE, Din getting over his issues with droids and connecting with IG only for IG to FUCKING DIE, DIN AND BABY YODA BEING AN OFFICIAL CLAN OF TWO, Taika just knocking this whole episode out of the park with the funny scouttroopers at the beginning who still deserved the ass-whooping they got for fucking murdering Kuiil and hiTTING BABY YODA YOU SLIMY FUCKNUGGETS–

FAVE CHARACTER: Alright, look, I can narrow it down to FIVE and that is IT. I just love too many Star Wars characters, I can’t go lower than top five! Ok, so my four favorites are Obi Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Leia Organa, Kanan Jarrus, and Finn Skywalker-Dameron-Tico (i SAID what i SAID.) AIGHT so for starters, a lot of my favorite characters in different franchises fall under various archetypes I have for faves. Obi Wan fits one of my more popular ones: “Old, reluctant and more than slightly-questionable parental badass with a mysterious past that makes you love them all the more when you realize just how beautiful and tragic and deserving-better they were when that past is revealed”. I latched onto this dude from the start when I just liked the OT (tho Leia was always my fave lol), and I wanted to know about him, and then when I finally started getting into the PT and TCW, it was just a steady stream of “oh no he’s hOT?” “oh no he’s sAD?” “oh no he’s nICE?!? REALLY FUCKING NICE AND A BIT OF A MESS HELP” and then I just totally latched on because he’s hypercompetent at literally everything and looks damn good doing it and boy do I have a thing for competence, charming as all hell and goes through so much and comes out strong despite the fact that fate hates his fucking guts and tries to destroy his life constantly and guys he tries so hard and he’s kind of messy sometimes and a bit of a dick and I love him all the more for it because he’s trying, none of that do-or-do-not shit, he is doing his damn best and deserves happiness and not Anakin tearing him apart. SPEAKING OF SAND MAN. Ugh, so I love Anakin to fucking death and that makes me REALLY MAD ABOUT IT BECAUSE HE MAKES EVERYONE ELSE I LIKE SAD. So I love Anakin regardless because he’s not your typical protagonist. He’s fucking brilliant, hot when he fights, is amazing at fighting and flying and building stuff and there’s that competence thing for me again, oh boy! He’s funny and kind and he cares. And somehow, this bitch manages to have the two most beautiful, amazing people in the galaxy in love with him and willing to do basically anything for him like the fuck?!? Jealous much??!?!?!?! I am!!!! He’s so fucking bright and it’s impossible to look away. He’s also a dorky, messy disaster who’s not good with people or feelings or emotions and he panics over stuff and doesn’t know self-control and is kinda really bad at his job a lot and pushes away the people who care about him and screws up literally all the fucking time and he always feels like he’s drowning and alone and I get to watch him crash and burn under the weight of it all. Basically, minus the anger issues and the child murder and the murder in general, I kinda relate a lot to Anakin. I feel like a self-hating mess who doesn’t know how to control my ow head and the world hates me a lot too. I can project my mental issues onto him, enjoy the good parts of him, live vicariously through the things he does that I can’t like be loved by pretty people and be hot and athletic and smart, and then when he crashes I can side-eye and remember that at least someone’s doing worse than me lol. So yea, I love this messy boi to death and he’s the one I get the best characterization reviews on, so I guess we have an understanding. Leia I loved since as a kid. I’d want to be her, brave, talented, smart, strong as hell and snarky to boot. I realize that Leia fits another fave character archetype of mine: “Powerful young adult raised for greatness, did not ask for all the horrible shit that’s happened to them, highkey wants a break and for the bad guys to just roll over and die, is generally clever, hypercompetent, and 100% done with everyone else’s shit, overdramatic as all hell and enjoys insulting people”. Her and Han were my first Star Wars ship and she just always made me happy seeing her kick names and take ass. She’s gone through almost as much hell or maybe more so than Obi Wan, she also keeps getting back up and fighting, she deserved SO MUCH BETTER than what the Sequel Trilogy gave her and you may quote me on that. She’s also gorgeous and I wanted to wear all of her clothes (bikini not included). I also love her relationship with Luke and I am so goddam happy it is now canon that Leia Organa did Jedi training and can use a lightsaber!!! She has a lightsaber!!!!!!!!!! Ugh oof I love her. Kanan fills the similar “mentor” archetype as Obi Wan does, but with a smidge of youth because he’s younger when he gets dropped into this role. He’s more of a punk, more of a mess, and oof. Basically I’ve said it a zillion times how Rebels resparked my love of Star Wars, but really, it was Kanan on the screen that did it. It happened when the Rebels season 3 premiere eps ended up on the TV and I saw it and I thought in order 1. holy shit that Maul fucker’s actually alive? and 2. Oh no sad blind Jedi man! He’s cool and mysterious and I want to know why he’s sad and who made him sad and also want to give him a hug!!! He was my fave character all throughout Rebels and his training dynamic with Ezra, struggling to help this kid all while flying by the seat of his pants because he had Issues and no clue what he was doing and no support and ugh, he was smart and brave and I’m so sad he’s dead and yea. Finn!!!! Last but not least!!!! He was my favorite character from The Force Awakens. People have said it before, but he was just so new, a rebel Stormtrooper stolen and brainwashed at birth, finding the good guys and fighting to do the right thing! Possibly Force Sensitive! Super duper cute!!! Funny and kind, dammit, when not many other people in the galaxy were!!!!!!!! I was so, so sure Finn was gonna be a Jedi along with Rey at some point, that might have been my biggest letdown when I saw TLJ, but ugh I just loved his enthusiasm and his war within himself, ultimately loving his friends and trying to do what was right at the risk to his own safety, even though that was why he ran scared in the first place!!!!! I shipped him with Rey and with Poe and now I am NOT above the post TROS Jedistormpilot shipping!!!!! Finn was just always the most interesting part of the Sequel Trilogy for me and I personally feel like they could have done more with his character.

FAVE ACTOR/ACTRESS: Aight, so I try my best not to “stan” anyone famous because literally no one is perfect and everyone’s done something problematic at some point and if I dare say I like a famous figure, someone’s gonna find something about them and come after me all “OMG THIS PERSON DID/SAID/IS X YOU MONSTER GO DIE!!11!!1″. In terms of performance, I think all the actors in Star Wars did a lovely job and I’m happy with all of them! If I had to crush on any, it would probs be Ewan McGregor, John Boyega, or Diego Luna cuz, uh, they hot. If I had to pick one I liked most, it would honestly probs be Carrie Fisher. Maybe that’s just partially from missing her now that she’s gone, but I really admire her advocacy and transparence for mental health, and she just seemed like such a funny, kind, strong person.

FAVE PLANET: Aight, this is HARD and I refuse to only pick one planet! Ok, gonna start off with Coruscant because an endless city planet made up of lights is amazingly gorgeous and it has a Jedi Temple stacked on top of a Sith Temple and is just so cool aaaaa. Also love Felucia just for being so bright and colorful and pretty. Mortis for being just as weirdly gorgeous and also Weird Force Shit. Lothal for the beautiful mountains, the wolves, and the fucking lightspeed center of the planet passage what, Dathomir is delightfully creepy to look at, Crait is really cool with the salt and the red and the ice foxes, Kashyyyk because Wookiees and it’s pretty and I love their treehouses. Basically if it makes me clap my dumb monkey hands and go “oooh pretty!”, I love it. The more “not like Earth” it is, the more I love it.

FAVE SPECIES: Hmmmmm, this is a tough one……. There’s just so many cool-looking species that we know so little about, ya know? I wanna say either Togrutas or Wookiees. Togrutas just because the character design is incredible and so fun to work with and also I love Ahsoka, and Wookiees because they have such an interesting culture and backstory and also I want to give Chewbacca a hug.

FAVE CONCEPT: Uhhh, not quite sure I get the question; you mean like just story concept in general? If that’s it, I’m gonna have to go with just the whole concept of the Force and the Jedi in general. I mean George, George my man, what the fuck? How the hell did you come up with this?!? Mystical psychic space wizards with magic abilities to connect with and use the sentient godlike life force that combined the entire galaxy together. Oh and also they have COLORFUL GLOWING LASER SWORDS?!?!? It’s honestly one of the most creative things I’ve seen in popular culture, and that makes me sad that Star Wars now seems to be trying to separate itself from what I think is its most interesting quality because “ugh not EVERYTHING should be about the Jedi guys!”, when like, y’all, without the Jedi, the entire SW universe is basically just another military scifi war story…… Just my opinion tho.

FAVE SHIP: Ok, since pairing was already up there, I assume this means actual ship? Well, uh, gonna have to be square with y’all, I’m a bad Star Wars fan for this part; I’ve never been the one to memorize ship names and designs and know the exact make and model number of some fancy ship, I’m real bad at that lol. I’ll say my favorite ship is the Ghost. Hera flies it and the Rebels Fam lives on it and it’s super cool and it makes me happy!

FAVE WEAPON: LIGHTSABER. LIGHTSABER LIGHTSABER. LIGHTSABERLIGHTSABERLIGHTSABERLIGHTSABERLIGHTSABER. Y’all, c’mon, what did you think I was gonna pick? xD Lizard brain want glowy shiny colorful big stick that goes whoosh!

FAVE BACKGROUND EXTRA: Again, not entirely sure what this means, but do you mean fave background character? If so, then it’s a tie between Wilrow Hood and his ice cream machine for the memes, that one clone in TCW who yeets a plate of toast at Cad Bane’s face, or that one background soldier who scoots between Han and Leia arguing in ESB and also Hera and Kanan arguing in Rebels (yes I do headcanon it’s the same guy lol)

FAVE MOMENT/SCENE: This one’s actually pretty easy. Anakin dying in Luke’s arms in ROTJ, and then his ghost showing up to Luke later at the Ewok party. I just care so ridiculously much about stupid Anakin and his stupid story and mistakes, and even before I was a prequels stan and had only seen the OT (and wasn’t a huge Vader fan, believe it or not), some part of me just felt so solemn, so fragile watching this, watching the giant monstrous machine falling apart as he fades away to reveal a weary, tired old human man, and it always made me wonder, what the hell happened to him to turn him into that thing? Seeing that young, beautiful man, basically Luke’s age, showing up as a ghost later, just the fascination, the tender look he shared with Old Ben, just how young he was, that made it all the more mysterious and knowing what I do now, it’s just so much better because my poor, horrible Disaster Man finally did the right thing and he finally found peace and it’s just the only ending I could be happy for Anakin with, And Luke, I always felt so bad for Luke, being so strong, so brave, finally getting his father back for like five damn minutes and then having to lose him again and just hurting for him but also knowing that it was gonna be okay because Luke had more family now, the ghosts, and Han and Leia and Chewie and R2 and 3PO and Lando and everyone.

FAVE KISS: Luke and Leia (HANG ON LET ME SPEAK) forehead kiss in The Last Jedi. I know (this one) isn’t meant as romantic, and I know the question is probs about a romantic one and I know that it’s not even a real mouth kiss. But. That Luke and Leia scene was my favorite part of the entire movie. Again, I was missing Carrie a lot, and ugh, after all these years, after not getting to interact the entire previous movie and not at all during this movie, the ONE scene with Carrie and Mark and the pure emotion of it all just knocked me out of my fucking seat. You could see how connected they were as siblings, how much Leia had missed Luke, how much he had missed her and how sorry he was for leaving, sorry for Ben, sorry for having to leave her again now, Leia knowing Luke was about to die, and just, acceptance. Love and acceptance. It was just a final, tender kiss on the forehead, and it was perfect and yeah. If I do have to pick a romantic lip smooch, it’s probably the Hanleia classic “scoundrel” kiss in Empire Strikes Back. I still remember watching ESB the first time as a KID and being all eeeeeeee are they gonna– YES they kissed they kissed they kissed finally! and that’s enough for me.

FAVE FIGHT: Obi Wan and Anakin on Mustafar in Revenge of the Sith. WIthout question. It’s brilliantly and precisely choreographed to show the intricate nuances of the Obikin breakup in alllllll of its painful glory. It breaks my heart every time I watch it because every time I watch it I still hope it’s gonna end differently. That Anakin realizes he can’t kill Obi Wan and ditches Sidious and goes back with Obi Wan to save Padmé. That Obi Wan realizes he can’t let Anakin die and saves him from burning and from Sidious and takes him back too. That Obi Wan at least puts Anakin out of his misery which would be godawful painful, but would save him from the horrid life as Vader. That while they’re fighting, a lava monster appears like in the concept art and Vader and Obi Wan have to put aside their differences and fight the thing and remember how much they mean to each other. But ugh, this fight was beautifully choreographed and was originally supposed to be a MULTI-MINUTE SINGLE SHOT WHAT THE HELL??? Oooof Hayden and Ewan did such an amazing job and the whole thing just rips my heart out every time in the bestworst way possible

FAVE LINE OF DIALOGUE: Now THIS is hard, I’m not the best at picking favorite lines. Hmmm, this is HARD. Let me think. Gahhhh, it’s hard because I have so many lines I like and I can’t even just narrow down a couple!!! Ultimately, it’s probably gonna be Yoda’s monologue from Empire Strikes Back: “Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter…” Just that entire line saying how basically all of us are more than the sum of our parts, that everyone is their own sparkling light made of stardust, I loved it as a kid and I love it now.

FAVE BOOK/COMIC: Answered here

FAVE HERO: Gonna go with Obi Wan! I already rambled about why I love him, but y’all……. I love him.

FAVE VILLAIN: Anakin Skywalker/Darth McFucking Vader. I loved him when he was a hero and the silly poor sad boy makes me sad when I see him as a villain all while being an overdramatic asshole and it just makes me wanna hit him with a newspaper for ruining his life and everyone else’s I love him.

FAVE OUTFIT: Answered here

FAVE CREATURE: I love Lothcats/Tookas! I just heckin’ love cats and now there’s spACE KITTIES WITH SUPER FOOFY TAILS AND BIG EARS OMG Y’ALL I LOVE THEM I JUST REALLY DO AND I REALLY WANT ONE SO I CAN CUDDLE IT ;_;

WHEW. That was all of the faves, thanks so much for asking me!!! Sorry this took so long to do, this was kinda a hell week haha!

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