#but why did this post make someone think of him

[castlenjoyer]

um. here he is . my guy . obsessed with him

[fkevin073]

take me like you do in your dreams (excerpt)

so this is a little Mel/Frank thing I've been working on. it's been so long since I wrote a long one-shot and did not get impatient and divide it into chapters so I'm trying to curb that urge by posting a little bit of it hear. so much more to go!!

Summary: It surprises people to learn that Mel King is good at sex.  People in this case being, of course, Frank Langon. 

It starts, of course, on a Tuesday, because everything in his life seems to go to shit on Tuesday’s. The shift from hell was a random Tuesday. Abby told him to fuck off out of their house on a Tuesday, he started rehab on a Tuesday and left on a Tuesday. He even fucked up his back on a Tuesday. 

Frank forgets, every so often, about this random pattern in his life. Enough good things will happen, or he’ll be lost in the rush of kids, dogs and work that his world will seem stable and then something fucked will happen and he’ll remember like a punch to a chest this phenomena and think I must have murdered a bunch of people in my past life on a Tuesday to get all of this fucking karma. 

What happens is this: 

Frank doesn’t have many friends. He used to in college, even in med school, and then the more pills he popped the worse his emotions seemed to be and the more he rotted on the inside the more people could sense it, even if they couldn’t quite put a finger on what his deal is. 

That, and he’s also an asshole. 

The point is, he doesn’t have many people. After the pills, after the divorce, after moving into an embarrassing two-bedroom apartment that screams of divorced dad vibes with enough furniture to make it functional but not enough to make it feel like a home. 

He’d like to think that after all the shit he’s been through the past year he’s started to appreciate the people in his life a lot more. Cared more for their happiness and wanting to do right by them. It’s all part of his 12 steps and all that bullshit. 

But then one day he looks across the Pitt and sees Mel bent over a patient, some young dude with floppy blonde hair and an easy smile, and he’s saying something that makes her laugh, that nice floaty laugh like she’s about to glide through the clouds, a laugh Frank thought he had dibs on, and he’s staring so intently Dana has to clap her hands three times before he looks away with a jump. 

“Got an interesting case in South 2,” she says, looking at him weirdly. “You want in?” 

“Yeah,” he says, trying not to look at Mel. “Yeah, sounds great.” 

Blonde fucker, he thinks later, as he tries to remove a dart from this bartender’s ass. He keeps thinking about Mel laughing, even though he didn’t get to see her face. Maybe she was just being polite. Mel is always polite, even when she’s telling someone off. He remembers one time where she lost her temper at Santos – as close as losing her temper as Mel has ever gotten to the best of his knowledge – and told her to please not speak to me for the remainder of the day as I’ll only say something I regret, which I don’t want to do for when you feel bad about this later and Santos had seemed guilty enough for once  that she shut up and did as she was told. 

She was just being polite, he tells himself. But he’s not quite sure why it would bother him either way. It’s just that Mel is one of the few good things he has in his life. He can admit that to himself, if not to anyone else, including of his several mandated therapists or the fucktonne of NA meetings he’s forced to go to. 

Mel had visited him in rehab, which no one else from work had done besides Robby, who Frank had refused to see. They gave him that luxury in rehab – deciding who he did and did not have to leave his room to go and speak to from the outside visitors. Robby had never come back again, but he’d been surprised enough when he heard Mel’s name that he went, quite numb and blank faced, and found her sitting there with a myriad of candies. 

“I wasn’t sure what kind you liked,” was the first thing she said to him. “So, I got a lot.” 

And it was so normal, so earnest, that he almost burst into tears right then and there. 

“I’m a KitKat guy,” he’d grinned instead, when he was certain he wouldn’t cry. 

They’d sat there for the full fucking hour, talking about their favourite candies and desserts. She went on a fifteen-minute-long tangent about how she used to suck on so many gumballs that her tongue used to change colour every day. 

“I tried to make it into a schedule,” she’d told him. “Blue on Wednesday, yellow on Sunday, that kind of thing. Purple on Monday’s were my favourite.” 

“Any reason for the schedule?” He’d been smiling as he asked it. He could only imagine a little Mel with her mouth full of fucking gumballs, her tongue changing to one outrageous colour every day. 

“I was reading about colour theory at the time,” she admitted enthusiastically. “Henri Matisse, that kind of thing.” 

“How old were you again?” 

“Around ten or so.” 

Frank had laughed, because of course he had. Of course, she’d be the kind of ten year old to read about Henri fucking Matisse, which he only knew about because Abby had minored in Art History at college and liked to drag him to art exhibitions before they’d had the twins. 

Mel had apologized after a few minutes for rambling, but Frank had assured her it was fine. In fact he was the one who felt guilty, not just for being a regular ole fuckup who landed himself in rehab, but because he suddenly remembered all the times she had begun to ramble during the shift from hell and he’d just walked away like a dickhead. 

But she hadn’t held it against him. 

Before she left when the visiting hour was done, he’d been so overwhelmed that he’d reached down and hugged her without asking, which was shitty. She’d stiffened but let him, as if sensing that he needed it. 

“Sorry,” he’d told her, wiping his eyes. She was kind enough not to comment. 

“It’s okay,” she’d replied, a little awkward. Her arms were still stuck half-out from the hug, like she was a robot and needed someone to force her arms back down. “I’m trying to become better with physical affection.” 

Mel hadn’t made it back to visit him again, as his program was only for thirty days and she had a life outside of him, but on his first day back he found a KitKat taped to his locker. Mel had already finished her shift, so he couldn’t thank her in person. But he kept the chocolate bar in his pocket and would reach for it whenever someone would look at him sideways, frowning whenever he prescribed some form of medication that couldn’t even get someone high, not that it mattered much to anyone. 

He only finished eating the KitKat when he made it back to his car. It was half-melted and kind of mushy, but he still cried a bit anyway.

But yes, Mel is an important part of his life now. Since getting out of rehab, he spends most of his time with her outside of work, when he doesn’t have his kids. She can do better than a blonde fucker fratboy, he thinks rather viciously. 

He wiggles the dart out of the patient’s butt. 

“No offence, dude,” the patient drawls, sleepy with anesthetic. “But I really don’t trust you holding that with that look on your face.” 

Well, fuck. 

-

Mel finds Langdon in the breakroom, sitting on the floor. There’s no dog to pet this time, but he seems content enough. She goes to the fridge and finds her water bottle. Langdon had gotten this one for her birthday. Stainless steel that she could put in the dishwasher without it melting or affecting the taste. 

She’d complained to him once about how she hated the taste of plastic in her water. She kept on rotating between different containers – wasteful, she knew, but she couldn’t help it. One time in med school she couldn’t get the taste of something sweet out of her water bottle no matter how hard she scrubbed and so she threw it out and didn’t have time to buy a new one because she spent an allnighter on campus and then she fainted in the cadaver lab from dehydration. It’s why she had a small little scar at the nape of her neck, which Langdon had asked her about once when she was pulling her hair into a ponytail at the end of her shift.

She meets Langdon on the floor, and he smiles that little-half smile of his when he’s thinking about something. 

“Is that a dart?” she asks, nodding towards the object in his hand. She takes a long cold sip of water. That was another reason why she loved this one so much – it kept the temperature just right. Not too cold and not too warm either. Becca loved hers too. (Langdon had gotten a matching set). The nurses at the care center told her it made keeping Becca hydrated much easier, because her sister only liked to drink certain liquids at certain times. No water before 8am and no fizzy drinks between 5pm to 7pm for some reason only Becca seemed to know. 

“Patient let me keep it. A souvenir from his ass.” 

“That sounds uncomfortable.” 

Langdon chuckles lightly. “Yeah, apparently an ex-girlfriend of his showed up to the bar and saw him flirting with the coworker he told her not to worry about and went a little nuts.” 

Mel tries to imagine throwing darts at someone in anger and shivers. “Infidelity is no excuse for violence,” she says lamely. She feels Langdon look at her. 

“You okay?” he questions measuredly. 

“I feel well,” she replies. 

“Well?” 

“Fine. Adequate. Suboptimal. Sufficient—” 

“Okay, okay, I got it Miss Encyclopedia.” 

“I think you mean Miss Dictionary,” Mel corrects, pushing her glasses further up her nose. “That better suits the purpose of your reference.” 

Langdon laughs again, wiping a hand over his face. “You’re spicy today.” 

“Spicy?” Mel frowns deeply. “I had wasabi with my sushi a few nights ago, but—” She stops. “Ah. A joke.” 

“Yes, I do tend to make those.” Langdon nudges her leg with his foot. “I missed sushi night?” 

“Sorry,” she apologizes sincerely. “Becca was having a bad day, and I thought it would be better if we were alone. We’re having Pizza Sunday though, if you want to come.” 

“What show are you watching this time?” 

It’s been over a week since Langdon joined them. His ex-wife got down with a bad cold for several days, so he had the twins all to himself. Mel had driven him to their school once, where he apparently liked to take them for ice cream at the truck nearby. She hadn’t joined for that. Last time he was with her and Becca, they’d been finishing up their rewatch of The Vampire Diaries, but only until the end of season 6, because Becca hated it after Elena left the show. 

Langdon had been intensely into the love-triangle of it all. Becca liked to wear her Damon Salvatore t-shirt as they watched. 

“Blue-eyed boy team,” Langdon had joked, reaching out to Becca for a high-five. Becca had cackled, wheezing with laughter. Mel could appreciate the resemblance. She’d always hated them on Damon’s actor though – she cringed sometimes at the sheer colour present in them. But she never felt like Langdon. Not really. 

“Mel’s always been a Stefan girlie,” Becca told him loudly. 

Mel had flushed to the roots of her hair at Langdon’s surprised look. “He treats her with respect,” she’d defended weakly. “And he’s the better brother.” 

That became a hot topic of debate for several minutes before they piped down and watched as Elena struggled between the two brothers for the hundredth time that episode. 

“Gilmore Girls,” she replies absent-mindedly, remembering how Langdon had fallen asleep with his head against the arm of her couch, his snores softly filling the room. The way his Adam’s apple had been exposed. “Becca likes starting at season 2 though.” 

“Any reason why?” 

“Dean annoys her.” 

“Huh. Understandable.” 

At her skeptical look, Langdon grins. “My sister made me watch the show as it was coming out.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah. No blue-eyed boys to root for on that show, though.” Langdon then elaborates, “we need to stick together and all, you know. Solidarity.” 

“There’s Luke,” Mel can’t help but point out. 

Langdon pauses, then shrugs, as if realizing he’s been outmatched. “Touche.”  They make plans for him to come over in the morning on Sunday, since they both reliably have those days off now that the kids are back with Abby. 

Mel takes another sip of her water, grimacing. 

“You alright?” 

“Slight headache.” 

A pause. She can feel Langdon inspecting her with his eyes, which has always been a peculiar feeling. 

“That guy earlier wasn’t bothering you, was he?” 

Mel frowns again. She should stop, she knows. She once had a tiktok influencer patient who kept pointing out whenever she did it, which was often enough she jumps a little now when she frowns as if expecting someone to bark at her to quit it because of the ‘wrinkles.’

“Which guy?” she asks, picking at her cuticles. 

“The blonde dude.” A sour look flashes on his face, then changes as Langdon clenches his jaw, as if he’s putting a considerable amount of effort to hide how he’s really feeling. “Frat boy looking fucker.” 

Mel is confused. “Weren’t you a fratboy?” 

He’d told that to her once, even showed her a picture on his phone. It had been a bad day – a little girl dead after pushing her brother out of the way from an oncoming car – and he’d found her out on the roof kneeling, head between her knees as she struggled to breathe. The picture had been old, but she’d been able to make out Langdon with his backwards cap and wide grin, wearing a tight blue t-shirt with Greek letters on it. He was holding – somehow – five beers in his hands along with a bong. Fratboy through and through. 

She’d spent several hours later after Becca had gone to sleep researching the initiation/hazing process, and by the time the sun had risen had texted him at least five articles talking about the danger of swallowing a live goldfish and how a few first-years had done to the hospital to get their stomach pumped because of it. 

How did you know about that???? Was what he’d texted.

Mel wrinkles her nose thinking about it. She’d never judge anyone for their dietary habits, but swallowing something alive gives her the heebie-jeebies.

“That’s not the point,” Langdon says quickly. “He looked like he was bothering you. Flappy hair, red face, unattractive—” 

“You mean Hunter?” 

“Of course his name is fucking Hunter,” Langdon mutters. “Wait, you know him?” 

“Not really,” Mel replies, trying not to sound nervous. Perhaps seeing Hunter had affected her more than she thought. “He knew someone I… was once familiar with.” 

Langdon’s face grows blank. “Once familiar with?” 

Mel blushes deeply. “We were uhm – intimately acquainted.” 

“You dated a frat boy?” He sounds mortally offended on her behalf, which Mel doesn’t know what to make of. 

She takes off her glasses, giving her an excuse not to look at him, and reaches in her pocket for the wipe so she can clean the lenses properly. 

“Mel?” he prompts. 

“He wasn’t a fratboy,” she says. “He was in marine biology.”

“He?” 

“Leonard,” Mel answers. She takes a little longer to clean her glasses than normal. “We dated when I was in med school for around a year.” She hadn’t seen or spoken to Leonard in years. She hadn’t seen the point beyond engaging in pleasantries when they bumped into each other. 

Langdon repeats the name as though he’s disgusted. 

“He was a nice guy,” Mel protests. “Really, we just weren’t best suited for each other, is all.” And that was mostly true. Leonard had an older brother who lived in a care home from when he was very young, so he understood Mel’s responsibilities to some degree. He always brought her flowers and never yelled at her or pressured her to do something she didn’t want to do. Perhaps that was the bare minimum, but Mel had appreciated it nonetheless. 

She relays this to Langdon, who makes a deep grumbling sound in his chest. 

“He sounds like a dick,” he says. “Who the fuck names their child Leonard?” 

“Many people,” Mel replies, puzzled. “There’s Leonard Cohen, Leonard Nimoy, Leonardo is the root name, of course which there are Dicaprio—” 

“I get it,” Langdon says. “What happened, then?” He nudges her again with his foot. “You know all about my shitty divorce.” 

That was true, except also not really. She knew that Langdon and Abby met in college in his last year of undergrad and fucked around – his words – for a few years on and off while occasionally seeing other people before they seemed to just click in his second year of med school. They married by the time he was an M4, and she was already four months pregnant. Then, according to Langdon, things began to implode when she found out about his addiction. “Final death bell of my marriage,” he’d sighed. He’d looked so upset while trying not to be that Mel waited until the end of their shift before she corrected him, “death knell.” 

Things had been falling apart before that though, according to him. He never spoke a lot about that though. Mel knew the timeline, but the intimate details she suspects he only tells his mandated therapist and maybe the group sessions in NA. Or maybe to his sponsor, McKay, who had stepped up to the challenge without missing a beat. 

“Nothing, really,” she says, flushing yet again. She feels oddly embarrassed thinking about Leonard. He had been sweet and kind and nice and yet—

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” 

Mel laughs a little. She feels dizzy suddenly, like she’s just bumped her head. Langdon reaches for his own water bottle – he always kept a plastic one in his lower leg left pocket for some reason, even squished it together so it would fit better – and takes a sip. 

It’s only when he looks away that she finds the strength to respond. 

“Well, he made me think I was asexual.” 

Langdon spits out his water. 

[goldbloomsworld]

You Know, I Think I Can Understand Why Michi Didn't Care About Mai

P.S: This post is meant to explain bad parenting, not excuse it. And this analysis will be focused on the show, not the comics.

Inspired by @zuko-always-lies and a Twitter thread I made earlier in the month(https://tinyurl.com/5epfmkvp)

The relationship between Mai, Michi(her mother), and Ukano(Mai's father) is not one that is given vast amounts of exploration. In fact, it's only explored in two episodes. But it still provides fascinating insight into the FN upperclass, and how imperialism can warp human relationships, even for the victors.

This is the first piece of dialogue we get when we first meet Mai and Michi:

It may not seem like much, but there's a lot to unpack here:

The conversation starts with Mai voicing her intense displeasure with the move to Omashu. Michi responds by bringing up Ukano's new appointment and their families' rise in status, and she states that Mai should be happy and enjoy the perks of their new position. Mai then responds by saying she has nothing to do and nothing ever happens, which Michi responds to by scowling.

Now, Mai isn't someone who's shy about expressing discontent (we see that throughout the show). But Michi's response (or lack thereof) to her discontent is very telling about their relationship. Firstly, Mai felt comfortable enough with her mother to openly express her dislike of their current situation, which indicates that Michi is probably the more active and approachable parent (Mai was angry about the way Ukano handled the pentapox situation, but all she did was offer him fireflakes).

Secondly, she didn't expect anything more than for her complaints to be dismissed and ignored. When she voices how bleak Omashu is, she doesn't expect a response, nor does she react to Michi's disdainful frown.

On Michi's end, while she's definitely not passionate about her daughters' continued misery, and would like to see her happy, she also doesn't really care. She never once asks about possible solutions to her daughter's boredom or isolation, nor does she ask Mai about what exactly is missing from her current life in Omashu that's causing her misery. She has no response to Mai's second comment, and is content to just side-eye her and move on.

I think we can all agree that this isn't stellar parenting, but if we go back and look at things from Michi's perspective, it makes sense:

I think there's enough in the text to conclude that Michi had fertility issues (Having 2 children 13 years apart doesn't seem like something someone in Michi's position would have done by choice. )

(Plus, if you believe Mai is Izumi's mother, this may be why Izumi is an only child).

So imagine this: you've spent a significant amount of time trying unsuccessfully to produce a male heir because men are the only ones that get high-ranking positions in your nation(remember guys, Azula was the only female in the war meeting and she was the Crown Princess who was specifically invited by the Firelord). While you're going through that, you and your husband have been working to advance his political career in order to protect and elevate your family. Then, finally, after 13 long years, you have a son, and soon after that, your husband is elevated to the position of governor of an entire colony. You've hit the jackpot, and all your efforts and ambitions have finally paid off. Under those circumstances, how perceptive would you be to the needs of the least necessary member of your family?

That scowl is foul, but I understand

In an imperial system, someone's intrinsic value is based on how much of an asset they are to the system. Mai is neither her family's future nor is she it's present. Her greatest task is to marry well, and her biggest prospect was burned and sent on an impossible scavenger hunt. Every time we see Michi care deeply for something, there's a logical reason(she cares about the fate of the city because her husband could potentially lose his governorship if it's mishandled; she cares about her son because he's the future of the family), but Michi doesn't have a logical reason to care about Mai, so she doesn't. And that makes Mai feel like her feelings don't matter, which causes her to repress herself.

Azula, the world's least qualified psychotherapist

I do think Mai cares about her family, and she wants their approval. But she much prefers that the company of the Fire Siblings and Ty Lee to theirs. That's why she was ready to go the moment she had the first opportunity. I'm not a big fan of the way the comics reset the familial relationships, because it didn't feel earned, and it felt like Yang missed the point of the original dynamic.

PS: I don't know why so many Zutara shippers insist on denying Mai's trauma. It doesn't actually make sense from a shipping standpoint because Mai's trauma doesn't somehow make her more suitable for Zuko (you could even argue that it makes her less suitable if you want to take it that far). Honestly, sometimes it feels like character spite drives certain segments of this fandom more than anything else.

[neonovember]

Back to You

part two to all for you

after the fight at the bear, you find yourself ready to run. carmen doesn't let you.

w/c: 2.4k

a/n: she's short. she's gone through many deletions and rewrites and i'm still not completely happy with it but I'm posting it anyways lmao. it's very wordy but how else am I going to untangle the clusterfuck that is this relationship? this is CARMEN.

At first, you don't know where to go. You walk twenty blocks until your feet ache and the cold bites at your cheeks, you walk until you get to the second last stop on the L, you walk until you forget Carmen, the soup and everything you had left wanting in the bear hallway.

You find that you don’t like how your own blood tastes, and you can’t help the laugh that escapes as juttered cold air when you realise Carmen still had domain over your tastebuds. 

You don’t forget him, you can’t forget him.

The feeling is quick as it morphs back into the nauseous anger, like the press of your imprints into the snow before it falls back into the sheet of white that covers the city. You don’t want to think about the bear but it comes in flashes, in waves muddled with the pieces of the past that had felt like stomach acid burning your throat.

You had thought you made peace with the memories of Carmen and you from so long ago, in the silence after he had left for Chicago and for Mickey that filled your apartment. So why did it feel like you were back there again? Like he had left you? Like you were left to swallow the embarrassment and betrayal- your vision blurs when you try to make sense of it. A couple yells as you push past them on the sidewalk, hand over your mouth when you try to blink them away.

Carmen had looked at you, in the moments before you left the Bear. His eyes were glassy and red, his mouth was open and he looked at you like he had broken something. You hated it, god you did. You wanted to scream, to break something but all you did was laugh. And then cry. And then laugh again.

You didn't know what you wanted really, an apology? What could Carmen say to fix what had happened? You can’t find reason and that scares you more than anything, that you would be stuck with this sick, this plague of a feeling that you could not fix.  

It would be the end of you both, and you didn’t know if Carmen would change. If he could be who you wanted him to, and suddenly you feel embarrassed. Like maybe you were trying to fit yourself into his life where it could not be, squeeze yourself into a space that was too small, and that they all could tell. That they saw how your limbs jutted and you were crouched in the crawl space. Could someone love him better? Someone that would make sense rather than your misshapen, haunted past ever could. Did he believe that?

Did he know that? Now? After you had made a fool of you both?

You wanted to run away, to escape before he could leave you. You can’t go back home, you can't go back to an apartment he will leave you in.

You feel the buzz of your phone in your coat pocket, and it’s not till you slump your tired body onto a park bench do you remember you hadn’t left it in the Bear. You see the bundle of missed calls, nearly bulging off the fogged up screen of your cracked phone. You see Sydney, and Richie, and Sugars name and you find that you still have tears to give when you can’t find Carmen's. 

Everything is a blur in the moments after, like your vision was now clouded by a haze, by the grief of finally losing him. He hadn't said it, and you didn't dare speak it aloud but it was true wasn’t it? You felt it, like a part of you was missing, left on that table or hallway or wherever else the Bear keeps parts of you.

You grip the rusted fence of the harbour, watch as the night waves crash violently against each other, loop and swirl in the undertow, pull itself down and under and up again.

You would let him go. Retract the canines and the pressed finger nails that you had sunk into him when you found him again.

The gasped cries that leave your mouth are uncontrollable, and you thank the waves for concealing them from the foot traffic behind. Your hands shake as you stuff them into your jacket, throat raw and eyes burning as you stagger into the backseat of a taxi.

The driver pauses when he turns his shoulder, bushy eyebrows and eyes that looked like they would be kind if it wasn’t near midnight. He begins to open his mouth but you beat him to it and spit out your apartment address. When the soft melody of “That's Life” sputters out of the radio you close your eyes and press your cheek to the window, murmuring the lyrics into the fogged glass. 

-- -

You're stuffing whatever clothes you would need into a bag when your phone rings. You ignore it, try to think of the earliest way to get back to New York that didn't cost an arm, or at least only half.

But your phone doesn't stop, the blaring piano notes shouting at you from where you had thrown it. In truth, you were scared. Scared to flip the screen and see his name, scared to see that it wasn't him. But it rings again and falls off your couch, flips so that the screen blares out anyways.

It's a number you don't recognise, and when you swipe the reciever you hear Tina's voice, or more so the sigh of relief she whispers into the phone.

"Finally. God, baby we were getting worried"

"Tina?"

"You okay baby?" Tina replies softly

You hear rustling in the background, and catch pieces of Richie and Sugars voice calling out before Tina shushes them.

"Yes" You squeeze out from the space between the lodged brick in your throat.

"Oh honey, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Carmen was being a fucking idiot yeah? And I don't know what he was thinking, I don't know what happened before we met you. But what I know, what all of us know is that Carmen would be the so foolish to let you go."

"It's over Tina. He- I can't force something he doesn't want" You whimper

"Force? Baby do you know Carmen when he didn't have you? Do you see the way that man watches your every move? Just silently, he has this wonder and concentration when hes cooking. Like his mind is finally blank and he can breath and it's the same, it's the same look he has with you."

"You have him. Completely. Even more so than I think anything ever will. You know that right?"

Your mouth is open, blinking when Tina calls your name

"But, I thought..he let me leave Tina. It isn't like he's been trying to call or reach me-"

"That's probably because he left damn near everything but his shoes runnin' after you"

"What?"

"You think he would just let you leave?" Tina replies, voice high, like she found it the most impossible thing to believe.

“He just stood there in the hallway. Didn’t say a word, left running and we let him. We damn near pushed him out the door. Didn’t even have a jacket on, the mans running around in negative degrees with a white shirt on”

"He is?" You whisper

And you don't have time to hear Tina's reply, because you hear Carmen instead. Outside your door, his voice straining as he begs for you.

You drop your phone to the ground with a shake, and in flashes your at the door, opening it wide until the cold rush of snow hits your nose and you see him beneath you.

He came to you, he came back to you. He’s gripping the door frame on his knees in the snow, chest heaving, cheeks pink and eyes only on you.

You can't speak, eyebrows furrowed as you blink and blink and see his face straining up to you every time.

“Forgive me, forgive me forgive me. I could never leave you, no.” Carmen continues to beg, eyes red and twitching, unblinking when a tear escapes.

“I can never take back what I did to you, what I did to us. That was me, that was me running back to Chicago, running back to Mikey, to try and fix a dead brother”

“I left you there like you weren’t everything”. Carmen lets out an exhaled gasp, like he was just now realising it.

“I was scared, you know? You knew me, you knew me. So when Mikey-when I found out” Carmen shakes his head

“I was something I didn’t know I could be. You were the first- the first person to ever sit in my mind. And then I had to turn dirt over Mikey's casket and suddenly everything I did, everything I saw was him. How could I come back to you, how could I beg you when I wasn’t the same man I was when I left? When I couldn't even breathe, when I was too busy weeping in bathroom stalls to smoke. And I couldn't, I couldn't do it, i just fucking couldn’t.”

You don’t speak, the cold wind as you stare down at him. The feelings, New York, the Bear swirl in front of you, in Carmen's cerulean blues, in his golden hair darkened by the snow, in the slope of his neck as he looks at you.

You can’t run from it anym-

“But I know better now. I lost you once and I won’t let it happen again. I’ll stay out here all night until you have to step over my corpse in the snow I swear it. I’ll die out here waiting for you”.

“I was getting bad, and you knew it. And I fought you on it because I have a problem with people pointing out the truth. I didn't want to accept I needed to slow down, it was just I finally had this thing, this piece of me I made you know? And every night, every time I would enter the door I’d walk into the bathroom and puke. I-I was so sure, so sure it would end up ruined.”

“That aint an excuse, fuck it isn’t. What I did, I can't take back” Carmen shakes his head

“I hurt you, I hurt you. Left you all alone in that apartment, made you think I didn’t love you, a fucking coward. I never stopped, even when I promised myself I wouldn't come back to look for you. I would let you go after Mikey, after what I did.”

“But at night I would dream of you, I would keep pieces of you, like it was strapped to my fucking chest. The guilt wasn’t enough, it didn't stop me needing any part of you I could remember. Didn’t stop me standing in the middle of a fucking grocery isle smelling the soap you used to use”

“Then I blinked and I could kneel and press my face into your skin instead. And I didn’t say anything because I had you again- how fucked up is that? I should have told you to run away, to leave, I should have begged you too. But I didn't, I can’t. It’s selfish and cruel but I have to have you, in whatever way you can give me. 

He's breathing heavily now, palm pressed against his chest as he grinds his jaw and lets the tear spill a trail down his neck.

“Now every night I dream of you. I hope I'm haunted by you leaving me. So I know what I need when I wake up.”

And you don't know how, you don't know how that part of you slips out from its stitched imprint on your heart and melts away. Melts away like the snow under your feet when you step out onto your porch. And you don’t say anything, you don't have to really, Carmen watches you. Watches the way your face twists and changes and crawls up your body to hold you into him.

-- -

“Are you sure about this Carm?” You turn your head.

Carmen simply wraps the scarf tighter around your neck as he nods, killing the engine and leans against the driver's seat.

“You should've been there, at the funeral you know?”

“He was your brother Carmen”

“Exactly” Carmen exhales sharply, grinding his jaw as his eyes shift to the cemetery car park outside. Out into the field of snow, with their stone heads poking through, the few stragglers walking across the path.

It’s silent, just your cold breaths leaving smoked exhales in the space of the car. 

“Haven't visited him since the funeral.”

“Could hardly even stand up straight then, when I first heard about it- felt so heavy. Like I was sinking into the ground”.

 “And I had this headache.” Carmen swallows

“No no it wasn't a headache really, it was- it was just the weight of him in my mind. The memory of him you know? An anchor, just dragging me down, trying not to crumble and fall and just stay there. Always there, always reminding me, he'd cover my eyelids when I tried to fall asleep. Just flashes of him, his hair, his shoulders.”

“One time I chased after a man, while I was at the farmers market for one of our new menus, I chased after him through the crowd thinking it was Mikey. I chased after the nape of his neck and in that short moment, where the fear and anxious and hopeful delusion drove me to that? I had him.”

“And then I remembered, and so I can’t come here. I couldn’t. How could I when he would refuse to leave my mind? My fucking temple.” 

“Carm” You whisper

“But I'm here now. Because you are also. And I think that headache has started to make room for it. For you. Only you. And maybe I'll start to remember him differently, in the back, warm and sad all the same. But I’d have you to remember, you to have as well”.

And so you did. You and Carmen stepped out into the gravelled road, leading to the polished footpath. Until you stop at the stone engraving of Mikey, and you hold Carmen when he crumbles slowly to the floor. And you sit with him until the snow melts and his cracked cries slow. Until the leaves turn and the stone ages and your children recognise Mikey as the man their dad talks to every Friday.

tags

@nolita-fairytale @kpopgirlbtssvt @parmforcarm @btskzfav @eed-a-life-or-grass @mccaffreyswifey @yousigned-upforthis @noxiousfeline @juleshadalittlelamb @jep24 @shaq-27

[hedwig221b]

On the topic of OG Hale pack fics, any super good sterek ones that really focus on Stiles and the pack but have the flavor of your Derek? I love your Sterek fics but man I'm always sad the Hale Pack doesn't feature more prominently. (Og hales being derek, boyd, erica, issac, jackson, and peter.)

yk you should really ask the op @homemadesterekpie since she actually wrote that beautiful post

Stop Crossing Oceans by greenleaf

"There are no absolutes, Scott! No hard rights or hard wrongs! The world doesn’t fucking work that way and we can’t afford to think like that, because people are going to die! We signed up for that the moment we got involved with all this!” “We? We?” Scott hisses. “Don’t you think you? Don’t forget that you’re the one who dragged us into that forest the night it all started, Stiles. So if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s yours.” Something inside Stiles cracks, so strong and so deep that he practically hears it.

My Mother Told Me by Renmackree

Stiles joined the Emissary program to help Alpha wolves settle into their new roles and to follow in his mother’s footsteps. She had always told him he was destined to run with the wolves, but he thought she meant Scott and his pack. Instead, Stiles finds himself sent to Thingvallavatn, Iceland, with Alpha Derek Hale. It's clear the Alpha is hiding a part of him that Stiles can’t reach, but when a monster comes to threaten the pack, it’s always great to have someone in your corner with a little mischief up their sleeve

Choice by Omni

Derek knows what it feels like to not really have a choice, what it's like to be manipulated. He'd never take away someone's right to choose freely. The fear of even accidentally doing so is enough to hold him back from acting on his own feelings. Stiles has never had a problem making his own choices, and fuck anyone who would try to tell him he can't. (Or: Stiles gets bitten by a different alpha, but of course would prefer to have Derek as his alpha. And also just, you know, have Derek.)

The Comfort of Coming Down by MadcapRomantic

Stiles isn't the only human in the pack, but, more often than not, he's the most vulnerable.

Derek Didn't Know What To Do But Maybe Stiles Did by tiedtogetherwithadagger

He let his head fall onto Stiles’ shoulder with a sigh of relief. He wasn't losing his pack, at least not tonight. Erica would be okay. “Thank you,” Derek exhaled into Stiles’ hoodie. “Always,” Stiles said.

The Human of the Pack by smilingbuckley

Slowly, Derek's pack starts to act nice to Stiles and accept him in the pack after Scott basically abandoned him to have his secret moments with Allison.

The Boy Who Tamed the Sourwolf by AllTheseSquaresMakeACircle

Stiles is used to being second tier in everyone's life. How easily people forget him and move on to bigger and better things. Used to always being in someone's shadow. Leave it to Derek Hale to shatter those expectations.

Go Away, Scott by HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere

After the incident at the warehouse, Stiles is fed up with Scott. He finds himself drawn into Derek’s pack and in the process, drawn to Derek himself. With the Alpha Pack closing in, Derek needs to learn how to trust his pack and those around him. And who better to help him than Stiles?

Protect and Serve by MoonlitMemories

Stiles discovers the Nemeton starting to grow again in the preserve on Hale land. What does that mean for the pack? More importantly: why does the Nemeton seem so attached to Stiles?

Anthracite by LupusScintilla (inkandblade)

It's been a quiet few years, and the McCall Pack has grown and settled. But, when the Hale Pack return to Beacon Hills they find Scott isn't as welcoming as they had hoped. Soon they, Stiles, and Lydia, find out that not everything about the McCall Pack is as it has always seemed.

also if my fics make you sad then maybe write your own with all the characters that you want ❤

[masterlist link]

[glitter-stained]

thank you for all your jason posts! it's frustrating when some more titans-adjacent fans (especially hurts if you like mia and others too) like to warp any fans of him into being like serial killer fetishists, or act really misogynist and assume one only likes him for being "hawt guy", and then even warp some of his canon faults and shitty moments to be even worse than they are like saying he killed everyone at mia's school or wanted to SA her. at least charge him with the crimes he really did, people.

They claim he what

They said he wanted to do what to Mia

I'm genuinely upset about this

Also yeah that sexism towards jason fans thing is so real like yeah assuming we're so shallow calling us "fanon fans"/assuming with zero proof that we don't read comics (which you know is just repackaged "fake fan" comicsgate discourse) it's so fucking annoying like "jason fans have stolen traits from other characters and his personality is just fanon and they just like him because they think he's woman-coded because they actually hate women but what can you expect from stupid little girls who wouldn't know any better"

It's almost like because this character is popular amongst women there's this assumption of shallowness.

And also like, I do make a lot of post about how interesting he is and the catharsis he brings but I feel like in the end nothing I say matters when it can be waved aside with "you're just bending backwards to defend your favourite serial killer white boy you fangirl", nevermind 1) my actual gender and 2) that jason isn't even a serial killer. It's like, I feel like being a Jason fan I always have to prove I'm not shallow to others and have a right to my interest, which is a very usual, tiring experience and like, when in doubt people should assume depth and intelligence. Why do I have to defend my depth all the time? I shouldn't have to be defensive all the time I shouldn't have to perform the social equivalent of an IQ test to be allowed to engage in fandom.

There's a lot of sexism in fandom and yes, this can definitely happen to female characters, I've seen the way people talk about Stephanie Brown or Talia al Ghul and Jesus fucking Christ wth. And yes, at large, there's also a question of the impact of sexism on popularity at large, aka characters that would definitely be more popular if they were men. That absolutely does not mean that liking a male character somehow makes you a misogynist (and especially not with how talk of sexism in fandom doesn't often take into account gender stuff) and most importantly sexism in fandom is not limited to sexism towards characters. People are sexist as fuck towards female fans¹, notoriously real life human people. But I'm not fucking shallow. I know when I'm being called a fangirl even if it's dressed up in fandom speech. "Read a comic" how about you read all the meta I've written about all those comics I have read.

So anyway sorry that got a little out of hand I'm pretty upset about that one but I'm really glad you like my posts! I'm just tired because as much as I love literary analysis I just wish I didn't have to be on the defensive all the time. Maybe next time someone claims we're shallow we can join forces to print out all the good JT meta out there into one big book and beat them up with it- aside from that I'm all out of solutions.

Also just one last thing - "they just like jason todd because they think he's hot" this is comics. Literally everyone is hot. Who's your fav? Starfire? Oliver Queen? Kyle Rayner? Dinah Lance? Donna Troy? Raven? Cassandra Cain? Dick Grayson? Do you think your fav is ugly? (John Constantine fans this doesn't concern you). "They just like him because he's hawt" is short for "because I don't find anything interesting in him I'm going to assume shallowness and act sexist about it because I can't conceive that different people have different tastes and may enjoy different things than me without acting superior about it." But also it's ridiculous because again, this is comics. They're hot. 🤦

1. And towards female writers. Devin Grayson I haven't forgotten you. They should be so ashamed of what they did to you.

[heyimkana]

Omg, idk how to start this ask, but this was basically kick started by a comment I just recently made on your post-

S/O meeting the in-laws (can be set post reincarnation cup or not-) and Kyunghye and Ilhwan absolutely adore her, like, to the point that kunghye would nah Jinwoo to marry s/o even when they're just 2 months dating or something and Ilhwan giving tips on "how to please the wife 😌" (I mean, happy wife happy life right? 😂😂😂)

I would include the s/o's family, but I don't really know if you'd mentioned any of that...? But if you did, you can add!

THEM MEETING THEIR IN-LAWS IS SO CUTE OKAY OKAY LISTEN

so this is set before jinwoo used the reincarnation cup okay so they've been dating for only 2 months like you said, a little after he brought her to the shadow realm to have a little picnic date there

so jinwoo introduced her to his family next, and from the second they saw jinwoo walking through the front door with his face looking like 🥰 THEY KNEW she was the one for him LMFAO

kyunghye was already like tearing up a bit cause jinwoo had never shown any interest in dating before and she thought he was always too busy to actually find some time to socialize so she was lowkey worried for him and suddenly jinwoo walked in like that??? with a girl holding his hand??? kyunghye could see it in his eyes just how in love he was with her and it was the cutest thing ever

kyunghye, giggling softly in ilhwan's ear: "he looks just like you when you first told me you loved me"

ilhwan: *manly blushing noises*

and his parents LOVE her OMG like they think she's the cutest thing in the world. S/O was so shy and nervous the first time they talked and she kept fumbling with her words, and she was SO polite and humble, and she was just the SWEETEST girl, immediately helping kyunghye in the kitchen to help her prepare dinner and they bonded immediately over cakes and pastries LIKE THEY'RE SO CUTE

lhwan had a serious talk with jinwoo as they waited for dinner to get ready. he took him to the balcony and they were like two cool, manly guys drinking their cool, manly beers and with their cool, manly hair swayed by the wind,

ilhwan: "she hasn't been awakened, has she?"

jinwoo: "no. and i'm hoping she never will."

and ilhwan could tell that one of the reasons why his son loved her was because she made him feel... normal. just a normal boy meeting a normal girl by accident, falling in love so naturally, and doing just the most mundane things together. ilhwan thought jinwoo must have found comfort in her, like he could forget all his burden and responsibilities when he was with her. it reminded ilhwan of kyunghye too in a way, she made him feel like he was at home whenever he was with her and ilhwan was glad to see his son finding someone like that in his life, seeing how much jinwoo needed it.

ilhwan's expression was solemn but soft when he said "try not to worry her so much, okay? i know you can't escape your duty as a hunter but now you have more people waiting for you to come home. she's a sweet girl. so innocent. i bet she gets worried easily when you're not there with her. don't make the same mistake I did with your mother. don't put her through the same situation. don't make her cry, jinwoo, that's all i ask of you."

and jinwoo looked at his dad and he saw the pain and the regret written on his face. "i won't. i promise" and jinwoo meant his words. he intended to keep it forever but ofc the war with the monarchs happened. this was the reason why he used the cup, like i said before. to make her forget about all of these. to erase the tears that she's shed for him.

(ANYWAY I DIDN'T MEAN TO MAKE THIS SO ANGSTY LET'S GO BACK TO FLUFF)

maybe jinah came home from campus after the dinner was over, she was like "OH UNNIE YOU'RE HERE YAAYY MAKE ME SOME CAKE PLEASEEEE" and jinwoo pinched her cheek and was like "don't order my girlfriend around" and jinah was like "oooooohhh your girlfriend~~~ 😚 so when are you gonna wife her up big bro" and he blushed and he pinched her harder "s-shut up"

but kyunghye joined in, giggling like "oh, we would love to have you in our family. isn't that right, ilhwan?"

ilhwan: *manly approval noises*

and S/O and jinwoo were just looking briefly at each other before they turned away, blushing (this is so cute in my head HELP like jinwoo was pushing his hand into his pocket, looking away, rubbing the back of his head, cheeks flaming red)

ilhwan, chuckling: "i'm sorry if we sound too excited. our little boy has never brought a girl home before."

S/O: "omg really? 🥺 i'm your first? 🥺"

jinwoo, lowkey screaming gaaaah she's so cute: "m-maybe"

S/O: "jin 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺"

jinwoo:

[torturedtypewritersdept]

a fucked up sort of eden - pt. three - new beginnings aren't so bad

✯ pairing:

firefighter!rafe cameron x fem!reader

✯ summary:

Rafe Cameron was good on his own, steady and sure, despite his adrenaline based nature; he was good on his own. His sisters long line of blind dates on his behalf leads him to you and from the very moment you walk out on the dinner, he knows he will never be the same again.

✯ warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, heartbreak, domestic violence (not rafe), injury, ghosting, fluff and fear, firefighter!rafe, past abuse, awkward!rafe, firefighter lingo, smut, etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this first chapter was originally posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity and i have rewritten + reshared it here and will finally be continuing the rest of the series :)

The scent of simmering garlic mingled with roasted tomato, curling softly through the corners of your apartment like a familiar hand resting against the curve of your back. The kitchen light hummed low, casting a golden glow across the counter where two plates sat waiting—nervous, like you. Your fingers lingered on the edge of the spoon, stirring slowly, rhythmically, trying to pretend you weren’t counting down the minutes to his arrival, wondering if he’d be like the rest and not show up at all. But the clock ticked loud anyway.

Jackson sat like a sentry on the windowsill, tail flicking, green eyes narrowed at the front door.

“You think he’s actually gonna show?” you whispered to the cat, voice barely above a breath.

Jackson blinked.

“Right. That makes two of us.”

You’d debated canceling at least five times, your finger hovering over the call button earlier that afternoon. But then you’d remembered the way Rafe had whispered sweet girl and then immediately apologized, remembered how quickly he’d made Topper disappear with a single look, how gentle his hands had been around Jackson. You remembered the soft shade of worry in his blue eyes when he’d said goodbye.

So you left the door unlocked.

And now, at exactly 6:58, a knock came. Soft. Careful. Like he knew.

You opened it slowly—and there he was.

Rafe stood on your doormat like he’d never stepped inside someone’s safe space before. Hair still damp from the station shower, his grey shirt clung to the curve of his chest, and his jeans—frayed slightly at the knee—held the scent of smoke and salt. A six-pack of blood orange sparkling lemonade dangled from his hand, and in the other—a humble bundle of wildflowers wrapped in butcher paper.

“I wasn’t sure if you liked wine,” he said, lifting the six-pack, “but I figured bubbles are bubbles.”

Your mouth quirked. “And the flowers?”

He glanced down at them, almost bashful. “Looked like the kind that survives in weird weather. Thought maybe you’d relate.”

That made you laugh—really laugh—for the first time in days.

You stepped back, motioning him inside, and as he passed, his arm brushed yours. Just lightly. Like a secret.

—

Dinner passed in slow, quiet waves. You both sat close, but not too close—two plates between you, elbows occasionally knocking. He complimented your pasta three separate times, eyes lighting up each time you refilled his glass. The conversation drifted from Topper’s failed Tinder dates to Sarah’s most ridiculous attempts at matchmaking, to books, to memories neither of you expected to share.

“I read The Lottery Rose when I was in the hospital,” you admitted, hands wrapped tightly around your glass. “It... helped. I don’t even know why. Just did.”

He nodded. “I’ve read East of Eden eight times. Keeps me sane. Adam Trask reminds me of what not to let the world steal.”

You tilted your head. “What’s that?”

“Softness,” he said simply.

The word sat heavy in your chest. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, just twirling the condensation on his glass with his thumb. The moment turned quiet. And you let it.

Later, after the dishes were stacked in the sink and Jackson had curled up on the corner of the couch between you, you both stayed. Not talking. Just existing in the same space. A string of soft amber lights lit the living room, flickering like they were breathing. The candle on the table had burned down to half its height. Rafe sat with one arm draped along the back of the couch, his fingers grazing a cushion absently. He wasn’t trying to close the distance between you—but he wasn’t running from it, either. His eyes flickered to you now and then, and when he thought you weren’t looking, they lingered.

But then they caught—on your scar.

It was faint now, but still there—curling just beneath the edge of your sweater collar, a pale crescent pressed into skin that once tore open like parchment. You noticed the flicker in his gaze, and your body tensed before you could help it. You waited for the question. They always asked. 

But he didn’t. Not right away.

Instead, his voice came quiet. Gentle.

“Does it still hurt?”

You turned your head toward him, surprised. Most people asked what. He asked how.

“No,” you said, voice barely above the hum of the room. “Not really. Not the way it used to.”

He nodded, slow. Thoughtful.

You looked down, fingers tugging gently at the hem of your sleeve. “People usually ask how I got it.”

“I was going to,” he admitted. “But I figured if you wanted to tell me, you would.”

The air thickened. Your heart thudded.

“I was in the hospital for almost two months,” you said, swallowing. “Jaw fracture. Orbital fracture. Four broken ribs. Internal bleeding. Broken leg. They said I coded once... I don’t remember it.”

Rafe didn’t move. Didn’t interrupt.

You kept going.

“I don’t remember a lot about that night. Just... flashes. Sirens. The taste of blood in my mouth. Sarah’s scream. Then I woke up to this.” You touched the scar. “And a body I didn’t recognize.”

His hands flexed, knuckles white for just a second before relaxing again.

“I guess I should be grateful I forgot,” you murmured. “The doctors said it was the brain protecting itself. But it’s strange—having this scar and not knowing what happened. It’s like carrying someone else’s grief.”

Rafe leaned in slightly, elbows on his knees, voice low and steady.

“It’s still yours,” he said. “Even if the memory’s gone. The surviving... that’s yours.”

You met his eyes. There was something there. Something behind them that felt too tender to name.

“Have you ever had to survive something you couldn’t explain?” you asked.

His jaw tensed. The answer lived behind his teeth, but he didn’t let it spill.

Because he remembered.

He remembered you limp in his arms, covered in blood. He remembered running through the ER bay doors, shouting for help. He remembered your pulse flickering in his hands like a flame he couldn’t let go out. He remembered praying for a girl he’d never met, just because she meant something to his sister—and now, he couldn’t forget any of it.

“I have,” he said simply.

And that was enough.

You didn’t press. But you felt it. The shape of his pain mirrored your own. Different, but somehow familiar.

You reached for his hand, brushing his fingers with yours. He didn’t move. Just turned his palm up slowly, letting yours settle against it. Warmth spread up your arm like sun on stone.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what?”

“For not asking me to explain it.”

He looked at you—really looked at you.

“You don’t owe me anything,” he said. “Not your story. Not your pain. Just your company. If you’ll keep giving it.”

Your chest ached. A good kind of ache.

“I think I will,” you whispered.

Rafe smiled softly. Then leaned back, his hand still loosely cradling yours. Jackson purred louder, and the candle flickered like it had finally exhaled.

And somewhere between silence and skin, something new began to bloom—quiet, careful, but very real.

Neither of you said the words, but both of you knew it:

This was the beginning of something neither of you had planned for.

Something worth surviving for.

-

taglist:

as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please send me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track!!

@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey @yagirlwrites @obxbabygirl @rafeecameronsbitch @klutzy-kay24 @roseczbalt @allsmilesreally7 @akobx @pogueprincesa @hannaa20002000 @olymosity @stoned-writer @ivy-34

[batsandbirdbrains]

I want to read this so badly I’m begging someone to write some variation of it pls

The one where Dick isn’t the step-dad, he’s the dad that stepped up

Im fiddling around w the ages because it’s more fun that way. Also it’s in the yj cartoon universe but the timeline will be wonky bc I didnt care for seasons 3&4. So anyway let’s make it post season 2, Dick is 16ish, and like so many of my other yj fic ideas, he’s currently heavily disliked by most JL and yj team members bc of the whole deep cover thing. Also Artemis never went back to be Kaldur’s backup, she refused, so Dick did double time as both Nightwing and Renegade, Deathstroke’s apprentice. He and Bruce had a falling out bc Bruce didn’t like how he didn’t do everything perfectly while Bruce was gone.

So anyway Dick is living in Blüdhaven, his exhausted, he’s not taking very good care of himself, he’s running himself ragged as both Nightwing and also at his day job at a seedy dive bar.

And one night he comes home, ready to face plant on his dusty couch, only to be greeted by his arch nemesis: Talia al Ghul.

He can’t fuckin stand her. The feeling is very mutual.

Talia was very close with Bruce when Dick was younger. Dick was definitely not super jealous at the time. Also definitely didn’t let her words about him not being his real son get under his skin. That never happened.

And now she’s sitting in his couch, looking around and judging his non-existent decor. With a tiny kid next to her.

The tiny kid looks equally disgusted with the apartment. And way too much like Bruce for Dick’s comfort.

“Is this a hallucination or is there actually a succubus sitting in my living room,” Dick manages to say in a bored voice.

“Charming as always, Richard,” Talia says back at him. Before he can reply, she continues with, “I’m here on important business, so please for once drop the attitude with me.”

“And what’s so important you’ve dragged a toddler into my humble abode?”

“Tone,” she snaps at him, and he snorts at her. She’s not his mother, she doesn’t get to lecture him on his snotty attitude with her.

“Look, if you’re looking for Bruce, you’re way off target. We haven’t spoken in months. You’d think you and your little spies would know that.”

“Of course I know that,” she huffs at him. “That’s exactly why I’m here with you. I need you to do something very important for me.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that? Drop dead for ya so your little Bruce clone over there gets all my inheritance? I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear he’s cut me off entirely, so no need to worry.” He sways a bit as he turns around, and he only limps a little bit as he heads to his fridge. Not that there’s anything in there, but maybe if he rummages around and stares at it long enough, food will appear. He doesn’t pull his head out of the fridge before saying in a mocking tone, “You can leave now.”

“I need you to raise Damian.”

Dick stares at the flickering lightbulb in his fridge, the hum of it buzzing between his ears.

“I must finally be completely nuts,” he says, straightening up, hand still on the fridge door, “because I could’a swore I heard you just say you want me raising the love child you must’ve had with the man who kicked me to the curb six months ago.”

“Richard, will you take this seriously please?”

The way her voice sounds almost desperate is what gets Dick to finally turn around.

“Are you serious?” he asks. “You’re being forreal right now?”

“I’m being completely serious,” she tells him. “I don’t want my son anywhere near my father. I want him raised by a good man.”

“So take him to Bruce! What do you need me for?”

“Did you not just admit that Bruce kicked you out?” She said slowly to him. “You, his sixteen year old son-“

“Ward.”

“-who he once used to tell me was the light of his life? He turned on you, just like that. The boy he’d raised for eight years. Richard, you are still a minor-“

“Then why are you asking me to raise your baby?” Dick screeches.

“M’not a baby!”

“Oh my God, it talks!”

“Richard!” Talia is pinching the bridge of her nose. She looks like she’s regretting the decision to come here. Good.

“Richard,” she says again, softer. “Please. You are a better man than Bruce Wayne. You know that.”

“Do I?” he laughs, feeling so out of his league right now. He has no idea what’s happening.

“You’re a smart boy, Richard, I know you’ll figure this out.”

“You’re really leaving your kid with a kid?”

“You’ve graduated high school, haven’t you?” she says, as if that means anything. “Quite the achievement for one your age, considering all your extra curricular activities. Not to mention saving the world from an alien invasion.”

Dick’s face darkens at the mention of it, and for some reason, he doesn’t immediately want to shrug off the hand Talia lays on his shoulder.

“You’re a good man,” she says gently. “You’re bright. You’re resourceful. You will be good for him. Better than anyone else he might be able to go to.”

He’s overwhelmed. He’s still in his Nightwing costume. He’s covered in dried blood and mud. He’s tired.

But now Talia is leaving, and there’s a two year old mini-Bruce sitting on his couch staring into his soul.

“Okay,” Dick breathes. “It’s okay. We’re okay. Uh-“

Dick doesn’t know what to do. Damian is still staring at him. Dick’s not sure he’s even blinking.

“Do you like Frosted Flakes?”

Damian’s never had Frosted Flakes. Dick remedies that immediately. Damian’s smile after his first bite is enough to ease the tightness in Dick’s chest just a little bit. He ends up getting Damian safely tucked into bed, leaving the door to his room ajar so he can go have a breakdown in the living room so he doesn’t disturb him.

Of course Dick will raise Damian. He doesn’t really have any other choice, does he? Plus, he’s somehow already managing to worm his way into Dick’s heart. God, is this what Bruce felt like when Dick first came to live with him-

No.

He stops that thought immediately. He’s nothing like Bruce. He’ll never be anything like Bruce. Because now that Damian is his, he won’t ever let him go, he won’t ever make Damian leave just because he might do something Dick doesn’t like. Damian is his now, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure Damian always knows that.

Except Dick is broke, and there’s hardly anything edible in this apartment, and his job doesn’t pay well enough to support himself and a toddler.

And Dick doesn’t have that many options on who to call for help.

So after a week of juggling his job and his new kid and a bunch of different possible outcomes, he makes a decision.

And the next night, he shows up on doorstep with Damian asleep in his arms and an overstuffed bag strapped to his back.

Slade only raises an eyebrow.

“What’s with the kid?”

“He’s mine,” Dick chokes out. “Don’t question it. Please.”

Slade just sighs, then steps aside to let Dick in the door. The house is familiar, Dick spent a lot of time here during his stint as Renegade. It used to feel so suffocating, being in Deathstroke’s home. Now it feels like a relief.

“What are you doing here, kid? Not that I’m not happy to see you,” Slade asks, sitting in a chair and swirling a half-empty glass of whiskey. He motions for Dick to sit on the couch across from him, and he does after a moment of shimmying the bag off his back without jostling Damian too much.

He sits there for a moment, Damian on his lap with his face tucked against his chest. He has one hand twirling Damian’s hair between his fingers, and he doesn’t look up when he speaks.

“You said I could come back anytime,” Dick says. “No questions asked.”

“I think you and I both know that didn’t apply to a situation like this.”

“Please,” Dick pleads. “I need the work. So I can take care of him.”

Slade’s face changes, but he doesn’t say anything. They’re both quiet for a long time, Dick trying to focus on the soft breaths from Damian as he sleeps. Eventually, Slade stops swirling the glass so he can bring it up to his mouth to empty the rest of it.

“You can stay in your old room for now,” Slade says, getting up. “But we’ll be relocating by the end of the week.”

Dick doesn’t know what to say, just stays rooted to the couch, hugging Damian a little tighter. Slade sees it and lets out a huff of a laugh.

“Don’t worry,” he says, “I’ll pick somewhere with good schools for the kid.”

Dick’s mind is moving like molasses as Slade walks behind the couch, grips his shoulder, and leans close enough to whisper in Dick’s ear, “Welcome back, Renegade.”

Dick waits until he hears Slade move into the kitchen to bring Damian and their stuff up to his old room. It still looks the same, not that it had many personal touches to begin with. A couple trinkets. Some souvenirs from jobs. A picture he and Slade had taken together, posing as tourists while they scoped out a target. If you squint, they almost look like a family.

Dick tucks Damian into bed, making sure he has the stuffed elephant he insisted he needed so he and Dick could match. It had been $30 - completely outrageous for a stuffed doll, in Dick’s humble opinion - but the way Damian’s face looked so excited at the prospect of having a similar kind of toy to the one he knew Dick had made him instantly cave. Dick had to beg off the cooks at the bar for a few free to-go boxes for a few days afterwards, but it had been worth it.

Dick shuts off the light, leaving the curtains drawn enough for the light from the moon to shine in just in case Damian woke up before morning, then collapsed into the bed next to him. He wrapped his arm around Damian, wanting to keep him safe, to let him know Dick was right there if he needed anything.

And Dick went to sleep trying not to feel like he just sold his soul. It will be worth it. It has to be worth it.

[johanna-swann]

Post 8x16 thoughts nobody asked for:

Starting with the positives: The episode was solid and it did make me quite emotional. I really liked the flashbacks and ghost!Bobby. It would've felt incredibly weird if we'd just never got to see him again and I miss him so much already. Bobby is probably my favourite character on this show. Was. I wonder if there are going to be many more flashbacks in the last two episodes.

Kenneth Choi FINALLY got a plot that actually revolved around his character again, not Maddie. It wasn't about her trauma or their marriage, their child, their future as a couple, it was about Chimney as an individual outside of his relationship with Maddie. (It's been 84 years, etc.) He did such a good job too. Chimney is usually the peacemaker, now he's the pot-stirrer. A few lines seemed somewhat over the top and illogical: On the one hand he insists he blames Bobby for giving up on finding a way out and that he doesn't really blame himself (he wishes Bobby had lived, he thinks it's unfair he got to live and Bobby didn't, but he doesn't believe it was his fault), then again he says stuff like "I already killed my last Captain". Idk, seems like they were forcing the drama here a little. But all in all I'm glad they focused on Chim again for once. They already gave us a very beautiful Buck&Chim scene and I hope they follow up on this a little more.

Athena being a little all over the place yet still trying to stay on top of things and doing her lone wolf thing was very in character. (Also a great opportunity taken with the fight between her and Chim.) I kinda wish she had gone to someone and admitted she needs help/comfort/support instead of everyone having to chase after her, but oh well. Her scenes with Hen and her kids especially were amazing.

On to the questionable stuff: I did not expect there to be a time skip this big (Hen back at work? Chim back at work? Maddie much more visibly pregnant? It's been a month at least I'd guess, but it kinda worked.) and I didn't expect the funeral to just be a montage at the end of the episode. Look at all the trucks and ambulances, the street had to be closed down, there were dozens of extras and everything. This must've cost the show a fortune AND it got spoiled weeks and weeks in advance. For an end of episode montage. Not worth it, very much not worth it. No wonder this show has budgeting issues. Who needed this? We already know Bobby was a hero. You don't have to convince us by squeezing a few more trucks and engines in one frame in a montage at the end of the episode.

In general I wish we'd got a little less pizzazz around the funeral and instead a little more focus on the characters. Athena and Chimney got their chance to shine and it looks like Hen will battle her grief through the Captaincy question next episode, but between the burning water and end of season earthquake disaster - when will the other characters have time to grieve? Bobby's mother was there, but she didn't have a single line. Buck was... extremely well put together (for now). Eddie had very little to do in general.

Also, why did they bring back Gerrard AGAIN only for him to play grumpy but sympathetic grandpa AGAIN? He got to show more of his grief than Buck, Eddie, Ravi, Maddie, Karen, Tommy or Hen. Why do they keep bringing him back and why do they keep writing him as a bit of a drill sergeant, but otherwise harmless? That is the same guy who called Tommy a fairy to his face last season, right? At least this time they confirmed upfront a different Captain will be taking over soon and I guess we should be grateful Brad was only there as a foto on that shrine.

The episode also didn't answer any of the burning questions that still remain with other loose ends. Like what will happen with Eddie? He was barely in the episode, he came to LA alone and had next to no dialogue. It was impossible to read the vibes here one way or another. I still have no clue whether he'll move back during the finale or leave the show after season 8.

They still didn't adress the Bucktommy situationship. And let me be clear, I didn't want or expect a full love confession / reunion or confrontation / closure subplot, but they didn't even exchange so much as a glance. Buck voiced his intention to call Tommy, talk things through and apologise for lashing out in 8x11. 8x16 is over now and they still haven't talked even though we had a few time skips and months have gone by. They're not only dragging this out for us as the viewers, a huge amount of time has also passed in universe.

Again, there are only two episodes left, both of which seem to have big emergencies and there is a lot of ground they still need to cover. We need an answer to the Eddie question, they need to make a decision about Bucktommy one way or another, they need to name a new Captain, they need to let the other characters grief, Maddie needs to give birth at some point (they could let this happen between seasons, but why would they?), there will possibly be more flashbacks and they only have ~90 minutes for all of it.

So yeah, 8x16 by itself was fine, love how they involved Peter Krause and Athena working through her grief by working a case was interesting to watch. But I'm growing more and more agitated about the things they haven't addressed yet.

(I mostly worry about Buck's plot(s) tbh. For Hen they already confirmed she'll have to think about stepping up as Captain. Maddie and Chim will have a second child. Athena and Chim had a lot of screen time this week. The Texas arc is almost over, they can just have Eddie move back and give him a bigger plot again next season or give him a heartfelt goodbye and be done with it. All of that seems manageable even in 2 episodes. But Buck has two big unfinished businesses NOW that are somewhat complex and I hope to god they don't plan on dragging them into season 9. They already didn't let him have feelings about Maddie's abduction in a way that was absolutely ridiculous and only made an off-handed "oh he handles it rather maturely" comment in an interview to explain it, if they now also gloss over Buck's grief and have him handle losing Bobby "maturely" then I will lose it. Also they either need to give us at least a hint at a Bucktommy reunion or finally let Tommy go. I can't handle a second summer break like the last one.)

[deletenrun]

Hey guys! As a touchstarved fan, i wanted to talk about Kuras bc i think i just realized something idk 💀💀💀 BUT this is gonna be a long post i just know that.

Before we start, i would like to say i really like Kuras and his design a lot. He is kinda underrated in my eyes and i hope this will change after the game releases bc the moment i saw him, his first cg, i audibly gasped and from that moment i knew that i was going to be obsessed with him. As a turkish guy, my nose looks similar to his, too and it makes me feel better about my insecurity 🤕 ANYWAYS lets get started!

I don't think he treats anyone for free and if i'm not wrong, we know the reason already. As many characters said before, including him, the currency in Eridia is information. When he treats someone, he gains their sympathy. A doctor, treating someone for free... It makes you think, what a good person, you know. He gains the trust of his patients, maybe not Vere's lmao but i stand by what i said. His patients might open up to him as the time goes by and this happens to be a nice source of information or while treating them he can still gather some info. He sees them in their most vulnerable state and makes them think they owe him something, anything worth saying or doing in return.

He also saw MC at their most vulnerable state, unconscious and naked. And I don't think he did anything weird (💀💀💀) but we still don't know what he did to them while they were unconscious. He has a cut on his palm, we can see it in his sprite (the one which his back visible) BUT I'm still not sure if he healed them with the help of his blood or if he did something else. He must have learned a few things about MC anyway, or he will when the time comes.

His treatment was never free. Maybe he is paying the price of something "bad" he did in the past with treating the residents and visitors of Eridia "for free" and while doing that, he also gathers information. His main objective is still an enigma as we don't know many things about him. But don't worry, those days are not far away. Also english is not my first language and that's why i might have had a hard time explaining my thoughts properly but trust, it makes sense in my head 😭😭😭

I don't think he's a bad person by the way, he's probably just morally grey and his long life and life experiences have shaped him into the twisted and complicated man he is now and that's totally fine with me!

Let me know what you think! I could be dead wrong and that's still okay! I'm so excited for this game... See you in another post<3

[strawberrysasuke]

Sasuke yelling at Naruto for supposedly upsetting the kids earlier when he got stabbed is really funny because that's just an excuse he's using to mask how badly Naruto getting hurt affected him.

In this scene, upon hearing that Sasuke's eye powers had been down for a while, Naruto immediately expressed concern, even stuttering slightly from how worried that info makes him, urging Sasuke take it easy.

In the next panel, the flames on Sasuke's shoulders are small, crackling quietly as he pinpoints the exact location and gauges the amount of chakra he'll need to get them all there. He's also in the midst of processing the feelings of concern Naruto conveys to him, and once it gets through, it instantly triggers him. The tiny flames grow to a roaring inferno behind him, coupled with that monstrous expression on Susano'o acts as a mirror showcasing the sheer gravity of Sasuke's anger. It's anger rooted in lingering worry, hurt, and guilt.

Naruto getting stabbed earlier clearly affected him so badly that he's still not over it. The lingering hurt is rendering him highly sensitive. In his perspective, Naruto's not playing fair here. The audacity to start grumbling at the sight of Sasuke merely over-exerting himself a little when earlier, Sasuke had to endure watching Naruto get hurt in a much worse way? He will not tolerate this LMAO

It's so funny that he uses the excuse 'don't upset the kids like that' to justify his outburst, and in the same panel we have a clear view of said kids, no hint of harboring any upset, instead busy being in awe of Susano'o.

In fact, even during that incident, said kids were either a) safe and completely unaware indoors, in Cho-Cho's case. Or b) initially distressed but soon got caught up in other upsetting occurences such as her dad also getting injured and her mom being kidnapped by the enemy, in Sarada's case.

The kidnapping that Sasuke could barely conjure up a meaningful reaction to, btw. He spends more time focusing on being shocked at the enemy's ability to use that jutsu than the fact that Sakura just fell victim to it. His tone is more aggravated when he's demanding why she showed up here than when she's in actual danger.

Yet when the strongest shinobi in the world suffers from a stab wound that he'll likely take seconds to heal from, Sasuke is in turmoil.

So Sasuke's claim of this stabbing incident allegedly weighing so heavily on the kids is quite faulty. Since you know who it did upset, severely? As evidenced by this look of pure, unadultered despair...

Upon finding out it was his katana that got marked too and he failed to realise, this tight-lipped look of guilt crosses Sasuke's face. Of course it wasn't really possible for him to notice such a thing and prevent it, but he still feels responsible. He holds himself to impossible standards when it comes to ensuring Naruto's safety.

I've seen another post point this out, too (thanks to op, i managed to find it! c: you can check it out here & here) - how the panel where the enemy's shurikens are shown to be targeting Sarada and we're lead to think Sasuke jumps in front of them for her sake, yet Naruto is also occupying a chunk of the frame right next to her.

Sasuke then blocks the incoming shurikens using his body as a shield. The only other incident of Sasuke's body 'moving on its own' like this is primarily associated with Naruto. During the Haku & Zabuza arc where we saw that his love for Naruto ran so deep that his body practically moved on its own to save him, even at the cost being his own life. To repeat this action at the heels of Sasuke agonising over failing to protect Naruto moments prior, it's clear what his primary motivaton here was.

Of course, Sasuke is someone who would protect his daughter and anyone about to become shuriken target practice, for that matter. But, it's the way he goes about it that gives it away. Using your body as a meat-shield is unbelievably reckless. Especially, considering the only other shinobi capable of dealing with this powerful, unpredictable enemy is momentarily incapacitated - Sasuke should be taking care not to injure himself. He could've, idk, done literally anything else to knock those shurikens away. He's a ninja with techniques like space-time ninjutsu at his disposal for goodness sake, yet he opts for the most reckless option. Witnessing Naruto get hurt completely eroded his rationality. Only Naruto is able to drive him to such means.

Hence why he's still so badly shaken up by it hours later to the point of blowing up at Naruto when reminded of it.

[bridgetlynn]

I really enjoy your posts/analyses of The Pitt. Just curious, what do you want to happen with Langdon and his family? I won't say "what do you think" because we honestly have barely any information so far, but would you like for him to struggle and make up to live happily with his wife and children? Or are you on the divorce train? Always appreciate reading your thoughts, thanks!

First of all - thank you very much. I've sort of always treated Tumblr as the equivalent of screaming into the void so I'm genuinely surprised (and grateful) when someone actually appreciates what I have to say.

Secondly - way to ask the question that could get certain groups of fans to come for my neck depending on my answer 😉

I knew the answer to this immediately when I saw it in my Inbox; but, I wanted to give it some thought as to how exactly to phrase the answer. Mostly, cause it sort of comes from a personally complicated place.

I'm going to start by pointing out for anyone not the original asker - I was questioned about what I would like the canon plot to reflect for Langdon and his family. I very much stand by what I've said (for decades) about any fandom: You Do You. A back button exists for a reason - I don't have to like what you're writing; I'm still going to cheer you on as a fellow creative. (you know, providing it isn't glorifying any type of abuse towards any demographic)

What I would very much like to happen on the show with Langdon and Abby and their babies - I would like them to be happy and stay together. And I don't mean "stay together" in that white knuckled, gritted teeth, fake smile, 'let's stay together for the kids' shit we sometimes see on TV or a movie when a parent is some form of addict (in recovery or otherwise). I mean, genuine Stand by my man. Step up for my wife. I Love You. Happiness.

Allow me to explain the WHY of that hope and dream for Season 2 -

There are two ways that families with addicts are portrayed in mainstream media (there's some nuance in more obscure/indie shit but overall it's really two routes): "Stay Together But It's So Bad and Tragic" OR "Divorce! Of course. Cause Addict! Duh! That's What You Do." It never seems to matter if the addict in the relationship has been to rehab and is successfully working their recovery - they get the same treatment as if they were lying on the couch in front of a toddler with a needle hanging out of their arm.

And it genuinely disgusts me. Because, No! That is not "just what you do with an addict partner" (ie: Suffer or Divorce them). If your partner won't go through the steps to get sober or is repeatedly relapsing? Yea, I get it - dump their ass. The "suffer through it" shouldn't even be an option then. But if this person who you supposedly love and who hopefully loves you back and you have built a family with has knuckled down and tortured themselves into sobriety and are maintaining that sobriety and are providing for you and your children a overall good life??? Gee Media…I'm searching for a problem here.

That is never written. Ever. Instead there is this conscious bias against addicts - they deserve to be punished. They can't have anything good. They shouldn't be allowed to be happy.

That is not real life. And this show supposedly prides itself on it's sense of realism.

I'm really afraid that the narrative is going to take the spin of "Langdon is a shitty husband/father" instead of trying a more hopeful narrative for him.

Also, really why is he a shitty husband?

Cause he bought a dog (possibly) without asking his wife? (Genuinely - I don't remember that part being outright confirmed. I remember it being more Dana's opinion on the matter of Abby having 2 kids and now a dog but needing a vacation. Not that Abby was ever unaware of the dog being purchased).

Cause he's a snarky asshole? There isn't a single person on that show that is actually nice except Mel and Whittaker. They all gave as good as he did. And sometimes shot first.

OR is he "a shitty husband" because he's an addict? Did we jump right back around into that again?

So yes, canonically on the show I would very much like to see Frank and Abby and Tanner and Unnamed Child of Unknown Gender #2 (totally gonna be a girl) weather this storm and come out the other side together and happy.

And if they do not - I want ANY other reason for a divorce then "it's cause Frank went to rehab because he's a bad man and he can't be trusted around the kids so I just had to leave him."

Cause on a real deep personal level - seeing the absolute immediate assumption that Frank Langdon will be divorced next season makes me sick to my stomach (sorry you all do you but I'm still fucking human and I'm allowed to side-eye the internet every once in a while). I get that they are fictional characters (no shit).

But I lived in that house growing up. My Dad was "whatcha holding?" and my Mom could drink like a fish. Right up until I was around 9. They would take turns going to rehab so that someone would always be around at home to take care of me (It was the 80s what can I say - no one even blinked about this. And insurance payed in full for the luxury facilities. Heck, I met Daryl Strawberry as a kid cause he was in rehab with my Mom in Manhattan once). They also loved each other and me fiercely. When I tell you that I had no idea anything was "weird" about my house - I always had food and clothes. I went to a private Catholic school. I had basically whatever I wanted without tipping into "spoiled". And then just out of the blue one day both got sober - I stayed at my grandparents (who themselves were hard core drinkers) my parents both went to rehab and came out and never touched a thing again. And we had the most stereotypically sitcom style life right up until my Dad died of cancer when I was 12. So, I got a whole 4ish years with my parents totally clear headed. But the important point I'm trying to make with this is that it is possible and happens more then the media would seemingly like to indicate.

Guess people actually being happy and overcoming adversity doesn't make for good TV.

And I'd really like to see that portrayed in a drama free "What you thought we were going to split up?" way on the show.

[risrambles]

I’ve seen Thunderbolts*! Here’s my full, SPOILER review!

STOP READING THIS IF YOU DONT WANT SPOILERS FOR MARVEL STUDIOS’ THUNDERBOLTS*

LIKE NOW.

OKAY.

Buckle up, i’ve got a lot of thoughts and a lot of word space.

Well, that was a pretty great movie! If you’ve seen my non spoiler review you’ll know I gave it an 8/10, and rightfully so. The first hour, hour and a half of the movie eats the rest of the movie up and if the ending had been as good as the first acts I would give it a 10/10. it kind of felt underwhelming and almost like it was a “power of friendship” moment—though none of these people are really friends, so maybe that’s the point.

First of all—Yelena and Bob. God, they were amazing, I loved the dynamic between them and it was really interesting to see the whole void thing come into play with how they felt about life. It was great.

The first scene when Taskmaster, Yelena, Walker, and Ghost all meet—that was amazing. my jaw DROPPED when Taskmaster got shot in the head, I wasn’t expecting her to get taken out so soon or by one of the Thunderbolts. I mean, we all knew she was a goner but I really wanted to see a little more of her. I liked her suit a lot!

Obviously, I have to talk about Bucky. I have two small complaints—one, I wish we saw a little more of him. Considering he was listed second in the credits I think he was a little underused and slightly nerfed but honestly not by much. to go off that, I WANTED TO SEE HIM IN THE VOID! the only thing we got was a nod to the fact that while he was in his void searching for yelena and bob (“i have a great past, so I’m fine” that whole thing) he obviously saw something to do with the winter soldier. call me crazy but i saw blue lights in the room behind him that he crashed through from and it gave very much cacw winter soldier flashback vibes. and i WANTED TO SEE THAT! i wished we could have seen more than yelena, bob, valentina, and walkers voids.

Oh, valentina. she was so horribly great, i was so ready for the thunderbolts to rock her shit but then she turned it around and called them the new avengers. oh i hate her so much they did so good. her assistant was kinda slay too but eh!

NOW ONTO MY COMPLAINT AS A SAMBUCKY ENTHUSIAST—WHY TF DID WE ONLY GET A MENTION OF SAM? AND IN THE POST CREDITS? Honestly, i find it crazier that sam and bucky talked off screen and they didn’t even show us. and that APPARENTLY the conversation didn’t go over well, and now sam is suing them… guys we might actually be in the sambucky divorce era im gonna crash out. can they just kiss hug it out and get over it. and considering how close they got in tfatws and we saw them talking the cabnw i just really liked their dynamic and how happy they seemed as friends and now that’s just gone (but it is funny that sam is suing bucky and co). although, it will make for an interesting dynamic come doomsday, which makes me nervous considering that bucky’s time in the mcu is coming ever so closer to an end… (someone start recommending me bucky fics NYOW)

honestly, i kind of don’t like the whole new avengers thing. i kind of wanted them to stay as the thunderbolts, as dumb as it might be. I don’t like valentina though and I really wanted them to kick her ass. it was a funny credits sequence tho, with the “new avengers? nope!” love that they’re still universally hated i guess.

BUT OH MY GOD I WAS GONNA GO FERAL FOR BUCKY IN THE POST CREDITS. GOOD LORD HE LOOKED FINE. OH EM GEE, HIS HAIR? OH THE WAVES. SOMEONE TAUGHT OUR BOY ABOUT CONDITIONER AGAIN AND HE LOOKED INCREDIBLE. PLEASE LET HIM HAVE THAT HAIR IN DOOMSDAY AND PLEASE DONT LET HIM DIE.

okay, i’ve gotten past how much i love bucky and must move on to the Other Things that happened.

now, about the INSANE DROP IN THE CREDITS? the second i saw the “fantastic four: first steps theme” in the music credits i was like oh it’s so over. AND THE SHIP? oh dude their world is so cooked, doomsday is gonna be fire AND ARE WE GONNA SEE THE THUNDERBOLTS (new avengers) AT THE END OF FFFS? ARE WE GONNA SEE THE AVENGERS AND THE NEW AVENGERS WITH THE FANTASTIC FOUR? see, that’s why thunderbolts* was a good movie! it’s got me actually planning to see Fantastic Four: First Steps because i NEED TO SEE WHAT HAPPENS!!! i’m hooked!!!

Walkers one liners were great and even though i hate him i kinda feel for him. Yelena and Bob and Red Guardian were stand-outs; I LOVE BOB! and red guardians entrance was incredible as well, along with the car chase scene up to bucky rocking everyone’s shit.

Like i said, the first half of the movie was a 10/10; the last maybe 45 minutes was more of a 7/10. i did love the thunderbolts getting applause in the street which valentina definitely liked once she got the idea to market them as the new avengers. also the fact that they operate out of the old avengers tower? the fact that yelena and bucky are lowkey leading? the outfits that kinda ate down? i kinda vibe with it, but like i said i would hav really liked it if they weren’t considered the new avengers. maybe it would have been better if sam had shown up in the end to rally them for his cause as the avengers or if they just stayed the thunderbolts and did missions more akin to what steve and nat did in the beginning of catws. obviously not with them unknowingly working for hydra, but them as undercover ops would be cool.

idk! i just got out of the movie like an hour ago and i can’t remember it all right now bc it was so much good content.

tldr: the characters were great, the movie was solid/great, the post credits were worth it/insane and the story was good. if i missed anything that anyone wants me to cover (as if im some prime news source lmao, i am not, im just a mcu blogger who has been waiting for years for this movie) then lmk!

I HAVE TAGGED THIS POST AS SPOILERS AND INCLUDED A CUT!!! IF YOU SEE THIS AND DONT WANT TO, I TAGGED IT AND MADE SURE TO PUT A WARNING AND A CUT!!! IF YOU DONT WANT SPOILERS FILTER OUT THE TAG!!!

[n0v4t33z]

Bittersweet Goodbye

Pairings: Capt. Hongjoong X Female Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Genre: Pirate AU, Romance, Angst

Trigger Warnings: Language containing Violence, Mentions death

Author's Note 💌: Hi! It's been a while since I wrote something! (Sorry!) But I do want to put something out bc I honestly really like this short piece bc I wrote this when I was really doubting my skills as a writer and at a time in my life where I also began to feel like I no longer belonged anywhere. So I wrote this to kind of cope with my feelings using what was familiar to me at the time so I used The Piece of Eight universe as a way to make sense of my feelings. So let this be known this is not canon these are just my feelings. So take it as just another Pirateez short story! Finally, i know it's been almost a whole year since I last posted something but if you stuck around I love you so much and I'm happy you decided to stay! Anyway as always please be kind and enjoy this! Thank you for your support it means more than I can put into words. - N 🌙

Minors Do Not Interact!!

✦•·····································•✦•·····································•✦

I slowly stir awake and sit up, Iook out the small window in my room and realize it was dark out. When I look around my room and notice the candle burnt out meaning it was time to go. I didn't even realize how quick time passed. Everyone should be asleep right now or at least not really paying attention too much to anything going on on the deck and if I leave now i’ll be able to make it to the eastern port by day break. I fight the urge to fall back asleep but I forcefully hoist myself up. I quickly dress up and only take a few items in my backpack, including the preserved finger of Commander Masaki, his royal collar, my journal and the hourglass that Hongjoong gifted me along with a few changes of clothes.

 Once I step outside I slowly and quietly climb down from my room and start to make my way across the deck trying to keep my boots from making too much noise. Everything was now beginning to settle including my emotions. A big knot grows in my throat until my eyes begin to flood with tears while I silently cry trying to keep my sniffles at bay. “y/n? Where are you going?” 

A familiar gentle voice asks, his hand grabs onto my shoulder causing me to abruptly halt. When I quietly turn back I see Seonghwa looking back at me looking worried. I look forward again not wanting to meet his eyes while I wipe my tear filled eyes “I’m leaving.” Seonghwa pulls me towards him and clears the stray hairs from my face trying to look into my teary eyes “What? Did something happen?” 

I shake my head silently and look down at the ground, again not being able to meet his dark eyes momentarily. Seonghwa gently pats my shoulder “y/n?” He asks, his pitch a little higher than before. I glance back up again, only this time just focusing on the golden button of his blazer “I don’t know, I think my time here is up. I think I should move on, I just don't fit in. You know? The running away from the royal militaries and being in people’s hit list for their big pay day. I don’t think it’s something I want to do anymore.”

 Seonghwa furrows his eyebrows “y/n…Why?” I shrug looking down at his hand holding mine then he pulls me back towards the Captain’s Quarters “No.. You’re talking to Hongjoong about this, you’re not doing this to us..” I try to pull away but Seonghwa’s grip remains strong easily pulling me towards Hongjoong’s quarters and barging into his quiet abode.

 Annoyed, Hongjoong looks up at Seonghwa “You could have at least knocked instead of almost breaking my door- Wait, what’s going on? Why’s she crying?” Seonghwa pulls me in Hongjoong’s direction and gently pushes me towards him “She says she’s leaving..”

 Hongjoong looks over at me in disbelief “Wait- Why? Did something happen? Do I need to get onto someone?” I shake my head holding back tears again, seeing Hongjoong now actually makes me leaving hurt alot more. “Speak.. Use your words y/n..” Hongjoong utters slightly impatient while he sets his quill onto his desk. I let out a long sigh and bow my head “I’m leaving The Piece of Eight Captain.”

 The room becomes still and silent, something that till this day always unnerves me. Especially coming from Hongjoong. A few seconds later I hear his chair drag against the wooden floor and then slow creaking noises coming from the wooden floor boards as he makes his way closer to me. Gently, Hongjoong raises my gaze up to his with his fingertips and gives me a solemn expression. “Your reason?” Unable to blink back tears I begin to cry “I'm leaving because I think I should move on, I don't belong here anymore.” 

For a few moments Hongjoong stays silent as if he was waiting for me to keep adding to the list until he finally says “Is that it?” I glance at his long golden earring for a moment to ground myself then I nod. Hongjoong gently wipes away my tears and gives me a faint smile “First of all, you most certainly do belong here my dear, you always have and you always will.” My bottom lip slightly trembles “No. I don't, it doesn't feel like it. At least not anymore, this just feels foreign.” Hongjoong furrows his eyebrows “What makes you say such a thing?” I shrug “I don’t know, everything feels different now. Almost like all of this has become bigger than us, it no longer feels like it once did in the beginning. You're different, you're not the Hongjoong I once knew.”

 Hongjoong stares at me with confusion grazing his tired features “What are you trying to get at y/n..” I let out a short sigh and clench both my hands in frustration “My days as your assassin are over Hongjoong.. I’ve lost my grandfather and since then everything has gone down hill. I’ve struggled to feel like this is my true home now, ever since you became the Pirate KIng The Piece of Eight has changed… We no longer just want to help those who are oppressed by their kingdoms and militaries but we now control them and use them as some sort of brainwashed militia. All these people at your disposal just isn’t like you Hongjoong.. None of you actually.”

 I turn to a taken aback Seonghwa whom only manages to stare back at me wide eyed and shocked. “We haven’t changed y/n, we’ve only gained resources.” Hongjoong turns my face back to meet his “And what we’ve gained has only made us the most powerful band of pirates that has ever existed, all thanks to you my dear. You kept your promise in helping me become the Pirate King, these are the benefits you should be reaping.”

 I shake my head and tear up again “Captain, you’re not understanding me.. We’re not the once small and humble band of pirates that stole from the rich and gave back to the poor.. We’ve become what we’ve been fighting all these years. A whole fleshed out military.” Hongjoong chuckles “y/n sweets, we’re not a military. We’re just an expanded band of pirates.” I groan in frustration and cover my face with my hands “I can’t anymore Hongjoong. I’m done, you can stay as the Pirate King and Seonghwa as your stunning and ever powerful right hand man but I’m done. I can’t do this anymore, you guys are becoming something so overwhelmingly colossal that it just doesn’t feel like home anymore..It’s not us.” 

I frustratedly turn in Seonghwa’s direction so that I can open the door but before I’m able to walk away Hongjoong turns me back around and pulls me into his arms. The scent of his expensive perfumed oils engulfs me while his hand adorned by the most expensive rings gently cradles the back of my head. “How can I convince you to stay? Hm?” I gently hold onto the sleeve of Hongjoong’s deep red silk robe and try to hold back the tears that never seemed to end “I’m sorry Captain, but I’m afraid my mind has been set”

 Hongjoong squeezes me a little tighter and lets out a sigh “Please don't go..Please” His words cause my stomach to drop causing me to hold him a bit tighter. “There's plenty of talented assassins and mercenaries at your disposal now. There's no job they can't do. You won't miss me, I promise you that.” I pull away only for him to pull me in tightly again not wanting to let go “But they aren't you.. You're the only one who I will allow to hold my life in their hands.”

 I bite my bottom lip to stop an incoming sob then I pull away from Hongjoong and carefully step away. “They aren’t me but they’re certainly much better than I, you’re not at a loss without me Captain. If anything i’m sure you’ll have a lot more to gain with the proper man power-” Hongjoong takes my hand and laces his fingers between mine “You said you would stay.. You promised me y/n” I shake my head “I said I would stay until you became the Pirate King.. And that’s what you are now, so my work here is done. You no longer need me.”

 His grip becomes tight “You swore your loyalty to me, you can’t just leave me..” I squeeze back his hand gently trying to sooth his anger tinged tone “I get that, but as my close friend you have to respect my decision.. Just how I've respected your decisions. I promise you I won’t swear under anyone else, I just want to go somewhere I call home and unfortunately this is no longer it.” 

Hongjoong deeply gazes into my eyes for a moment, his eyes show an overwhelming amount of sadness and heartbreak, something that for the most part he’s always tried to hide. He slowly leans in and rests his forehead against mine, his hand cradling the back of my head “y/n please.. Don’t do this to me. I promise you won't have to kill anyone anymore, just stay by my side.”

 I nervously swallow feeling his warm breath, his gaze and the smell of rum on his breath making me dizzy. Was he always able to make me feel this flustered? “Ca- I mean, Hongjoong.. I'm telling you this as someone who deeply cares about you so forgive me but I can't. I'm no longer happy here, I feel like an outsider and I no longer fit in here. Thank you so much for everything, my freedom, the vengeance for my people. Everything. I love you my Captain, my heart will forever be with you. My heart will forever belong to those seas we conquered together.” 

His hand moves from the back of my head to my cheek and gently wipes away my tears. Without breaking his gaze he gives me a forced smile then gently kisses my forehead “You are not an outsider my dear, at least Seonghwa, the rest of the crew and I don't see it that way. You’ll always be welcomed here whether I’m here or not. Whether this kingdom you, my dear crew, and I have created falls. You’ll always be welcomed here, because to me this will always be your home.”

 I blink at how sudden his mind changed… Maybe he wanted me to be honest? I chuckle nervously and step back gently holding onto his hand “I’m sure there’s a militia belonging to The Piece of Eight back in Eledonia, if you ever miss me I’m sure they’ll tell you how I'm doing.”  Hongjoong smirks “I promise you I’ll go see you myself when I miss you.” I raise my eyebrow “I’m sure that’ll probably be in half a decade but sure.”

 Hongjoong shakes his head “Not at all, I miss you even now.” My face heats up and I awkwardly scoff “Okay Hongjoong no need to keep messing with me like that. You're funny.” He chuckles then clears a stray hair from my face “I’m not, I really do hope to see you again.” I let out a dry laugh trying to disguise my imminent tears again “Yeah, um… So is that a yes? Am I free to go?” Hongjoong deeply stares at me, his expression is a mixture of being conflicted and sad until he suddenly turns to Seonghwa and nods “Let her go. She’ll find her way back to me one day.” 

Seonghwa presses his lips together slightly teary eyed and nods  “Yes Captain.” Seonghwa steps aside silently watching me for a moment. Once I approach the door I notice Seonghwa’s hand hesitantly reach for me only for him to pull away. Seeing this, I turn to him and pull him into a quick hug “Thank you for everything.” Seonghwa holds me tight resting his chin on top of my head “Please, make sure you get plenty of sleep or you’ll get sick.” I quietly nod in his arms, when he pulls away, he gives me a forced smile.

 “It’s cold at night, wear your jacket you know you get cold-” Hongjoong interjects an emotional Seonghwa. “Seonghwa..” He looks over at Hongjoong and nods slightly teary eyed. He reaches over to me and pats my head goodbye “Goodbye y/n.”

 I painstakingly force a smile and gently pat his arm in return and step out, quietly closing the door behind me so as not to announce my departure. Once I’m a good distance away from the port where our ship is stationed I can see The Piece Of Eight’s proud flag gently swaying in the cool October sky. Then, it was a symbol of freedom and justice, now it’s a bittersweet symbol of everything I loved and protected.

 A Heavy knot grows in my throat again and my eyes flood with tears. Was this the right decision? I feel horrible for bailing out on Hongjoong and the rest of the crew like this but that pain was getting unbearable. 

I couldn’t stand being something I’m not, I don’t like having underlings to fight battles I can easily take on myself, nor will I brainwash innocent people to fight the rich. In a normal circumstance, leaving my belonging band of pirates would have ultimately condemned me to become blacklisted and more than likely executed. So I’m still surprised Hongjoong didn’t execute me right then and there. 

I guess he still has hope of me returning some day, what a silly man. One thing about Hongjoong is that the man can dream. Unfortunately to see something that you know and love be reduced to nothing but what you were fighting against right from the beginning really makes you question everything. 

It doesn’t take away that I’m happy for him and the crew but how is it possible it all changed like this? I get change is good sometimes but this time around it changed them as a whole. It feels like a whole new set of people with hints of who they once were. 

Is this what comes with getting older and wiser? You learn to see things for what they really are despite how they make you feel? Even then, I hope I can find somewhere to call “home” again someday.

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[darlingdaisyfarm]

Hello my amazing, talented, gorgeous queen♥, I've got smth that has been itching my brain for sooo long and I can't contain myself any longer:

Soooo, hear me out... Remember that episode of gravity falls where Dipper clones himself? I was thinking 'what if it was Ford?' And then I thought 'but make it nsfw' likeeee????? I'll leave the rest to u but... Have fun with it!!!!!

Your dearest, 🌻 Anon

(P.s I will return!!! Also LOVE your stuff❤❤❤❤)

HELLOOO???? the way i actually giggled about “queen” like. AAAAAA. no one’s called me that before and aaahggg you making me shy!!

also HELLOOOO again??? ur idea?? i read it once and my hands were already twitching to write and finally damn finally i started smth today!! 🌻 anon, ily

i’m already writing it (trying to decide if it needs to be a full one shot or just a little blurb but knowing me...sadly it'll be the first)

i will be sharing a sneak peek right now!!! :)) ill probably edit this millions of times before ill post the whole thing

Ford stares at the clone, at himself. or rather, at the other him. it’s uncanny, he would describe it so. every angle, detail and every tired crease in his forehead, exactly the same. and yet somehow it makes him deeply uncomfortable.

the clone tilts his head, adjusting his glasses, squinting thoughtfully at real Ford.

“do my glasses really sit that crooked?” the clone asks, poking at the bridge. “is that why everything’s slightly tilted all the time?”

“hm,” real Stanford rubs his chin. “honestly, i always wondered if these frames made my face look too narrow.”

“wait, do they?” the clone presses, turning slightly, admiring the angle of the glasses from the side. “maybe the square ones Fidds offered me would’ve—“

“how do you know?” Stanford wants to ask, but then he clicks his tongue, because, ah yeah. . . that's literally his clone. so instead he says, “just, stop touching them, alright?”

the clone raises a brow. “but they’re our glasses, no?”

“actually, mine,” Ford corrects stiffly, suddenly hyperaware of the smudge on his left lens. god. do they really squish his face?

real Ford paces in a tight circle, muttering furiously under his breath, thinking what to do next while behind him, his clone is inspecting the lab.

“you really let the flux cables sit like that? you know they’re supposed to be wrapped clockwise, not—“

“great,” real Stanford snaps, whirling around. “just great. now i get to be corrected by my own clone. is this what i’m like? is this what living with me is like?”

clone Ford blinks and smiles. “yes. obviously!”

that makes Stanford rub his temples hard enough to dig grooves into his skull. “i didn’t make you so you could reorganize my entire lab and critique my wire handling.”

“Ford?” your voice sounds, lilting down the hall. “you okay? you’ve been quiet down there.”

the clone’s breath catches as he turns toward the door. “who was that?”

Ford panics. no. no. no. “you didn’t hear anything,” he says too fast.

but to his fear, second Ford is already dreamy-eyed and real Stanford gets a great view of himself when he blushes. so silly, geez. . . “oh, she sounds divine. how did we land someone with a voice like that?”

Ford’s eye twitches. “don’t romanticize my partner, you bootlegged pervert. . .“ he mumbles to himself, already thinking about what to do with his annoying copy.

annoying scanning sound suddenly fills the room as the cloning machine starts working again.

“what are you doing? stop that!” Stanford panics, but it's too late.

“sorry, im just curious about how this machine works! you're curious too, right? you’re always saying curiosity is what drives progress!” the clone says, pushing up his glasses with a proud face.

looks like a third pair of eyes wouldn’t hurt.