#forgot about his existence entirely until I saw your comic but he's one of the characters I feel equally is misunderstood

[alistairssock]

Had to give it my shot to make Rook!Oghren becasue the concept amused me so @albaharu

[sunjaesol]

serendipitous encounters

juke | human au | fluff

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"I think I met my soulmate!" Luke shouted as he barrelled through the front door, announcing his presence.

Alex, cuddled up with Willie, groaned from his place on the couch. "Not this again. Luke, soulmates do not exist!"

"Well, I'm curious," Willie joked. "What happened?"

Bouncing through the small living space, he propped himself on the coffee table. His eager lips spouted everything he knew so far. "Her name's Julie and she's beautiful and she drinks lattes with caramel syrup."

The two boys blinked at each other, an amused smile growing on Willie as the scowl deepened for Alex. Yeesh. How did these two work?

The blonde tried keeping composure. "You think... you met... the person you want to spend the rest of your life with... in a coffee shop?"

Luke nodded. What was his point?

Luckily, Willie was on his side. "Did you talk to her?"

Sighing, he slumped to the floor. "No. But I'm telling you, it's her."

"This oddly feels like that Zooey Deschanel movie," Alex mused.

"No! She's not some fantasy! She-I can't explain it." Dreamily looking up at the ceiling, he added. "She's it. I'm calling it."

"I think you're horny," Alex deadpanned. Willie snickered.

He rolled his eyes and swatted their legs. "Very cool, you guys.”

The doorbell rang. Jumping up and saving himself from further embarrassment, Luke went to open it.

And it was her. Holy shit.

She smiled up at him, holding up his trusty songbook.

"Hello. You left this journal on your table at Starbucks? It has your address inside."

Gobsmacked, Luke stared at her. Holy fucking shit. Because of his whole daydream about her in Starbucks, he forgot his book and then she took it upon herself to find the rightful owner. That was fate, right? Take that, Alex!

Stammering vowels, he plucked it from her grasp and let out a breathy laugh.

"Y-Yeah, thanks, that's- yup."

An amused smile pulled on her lips, nodding. "No problem. Have a nice day!"

Her goodbye snapped him out of his stupor, calling out for her with a raised hand.

"Wait! I didn't catch your name!"

She turned around, the girl looking so foreign in the grimy hallway of the apartment complex.

"Why do you need my name?"

Cause he knew it already and didn't want to seem like a creep.

He shrugged. "I want to thank you."

"It's Julie," she said after a beat.

"Thank you, Julie." His grin must've been comically wide, heart beating a mile a minute as he was still convinced she was his freaking soulmate.

And then she left. He was certain he'd see her again. In a non creepy way, that was.

— — — — — —

It was wholly coincidental once more. 

It was an early Sunday morning, Luke donned in sweatpants and a ratty cut-off and bedhead, as he meandered in the the shop of a tailor. Reggie owed him for this. 

The bassist loved buying vintage clothing, but never stuff that quite fit him. Hence, a tailor. His name was Peter and basically Reg’s best friend at this point, based on the disappointed look the man gave Luke as he handed him the the slip. He could hear the question on his tongue - “Where’s Reggie?” - and was happy when he didn’t ask. 

One, cause that was fucking rude. 

Two, cause Reg was currently fighting for an exclusive comic book on the other side of Los Angeles with a hurdle of other nerds. 

As Peter was sifting through the clothing racks, searching the order, the bell jingled behind him. 

“Oh, Journal Boy?”

He stilled. Holy shit. 

Whirling around, he came face to face with Julie. Just as beautiful as a week ago; maybe even more disarming in sandals and her curly hair up in a messy bun.

“Hi,” he breathed, unsure if he wasn’t just imagining her. It was a pretty hot day. It could easily be a sun stroke. 

Her smile widened. She was probably amused by his goofy behaviour, but he couldn’t help it. What were the odds he’d see her again, in a different location, this early after the first encounter? What was the statistical probability of meeting his soulmate twice? 

Before he could say anything else, Peter appeared from his rack and placed a leather jacket on the counter. Their attention diverted, Luke couldn’t help but feel heat travel up his back from having her so near. 

— — — — — —

No, he didn't want to go to silent disco.

Alas, Willie and Alex were that quirky type of couple that always liked to do the weirdest shit, including the most impersonal activity ever: a silent fucking disco.

They told him to bring a date, as Reggie was bringing his Tinder match Kayla, but he wasn't feeling it. One, because he still couldn't believe he saw Julie again at the tailor-

("It's Luke, by the way," he added.

She smiled and tasted the name. "Luke. Haven't lost your journal again?"

His name sounded heavenly on her tongue. Keeping the blush at bay, he nodded with a grin. "Yup. Uh-"

And then the man came back with her stuff, and that was that.)

-two, cause he wanted to win from Alex. Soulmates did exist and he hadn't lost hope it was her.

So there he was, in some old factory turned disco, with hundreds of idiots wearing headphones as they danced in a frenzy to whatever song was playing. The whole point of art - connection - was lost. Luke wanted to die.

Until he saw Julie from across the space. Again. And she saw him.

They smiled and waved and suddenly, this whole thing wasn't so bad anymore.

— — — — — —

There were about a 130,000 people living in East LA. It had sprawling neighbourhoods and hundreds of communities and subways that connected it to the other parts of LA. She could’ve been anywhere. 

And yet, he found her again. 

Even though he was still sticking to his guns that Julie was someone special, he also had his own needs. Which was how he found himself slipping out of a redhead’s bed at seven in the morning, dazed from being in an unknown place, and pulling his clothes back on. He was pretty sure her name was Meredith, though that could also just be entirely false. It was a weird, albeit good night. 

She mumbled in her pillow he could let himself out, waving half-heartedly and rolling on her side. 

Softly closing the door behind him and cracking the knots in his neck, he didn’t notice how he bumped into a person. 

Into Julie. 

His eyes widened in shock, the two letting out a surprised yelp. Her hand clutched her chest and took a step back. 

“Whoa!” he exclaimed. “Sorry!”

Her mouth opened and closed in confusion, about to say something, when her gaze trailed past him to the apartment he just left. She cleared up. 

“Meredith? Good choice, she’s nice.”

Luke flushed red. What the fuck was he supposed to say to that? 

Awkwardly scratching the back of his head, he drawled, “Uh, yeah... what’re you doing here?”

It was then that he noticed she had athletic wear on, duffle bag around her shoulder and keys dangling between her fingers. She confirmed his suspicions when she replied. 

“I, uh, live here.” She laughed. “So... have a nice rest of the day?”  

He wanted to say a lot. He wanted to ask if she wanted to grab breakfast, that Meredith wasn’t his girlfriend, that he had this crazy feeling they were always meant to meet - again and again and again ‘til they got it right. 

But he couldn’t. He’d sound insane. Hell, it was insane. Instead, he wished her a nice day as well and scurried out the hallway. He didn’t look back, but he did wonder if he was imagining he felt her eyes on his back. 

— — — — — —

Luke was typing on his laptop, the hustle and bustle of Starbucks at three in the afternoon and the methodical tap tap tap of the keys lulling him into a fast-paced trance. As always, he procrastinated some work for Pitchfork and had to get it done in two hours or else his boss would be yelling in his emails.

The bell jingled, Luke looking up automatically and almost rolling his eyes at the sight of her. This was getting insane.

Julie saw him too, changing her course from the register to his round table with a confused grimace twisting her features. As always, she looked pretty; the girl never looked bad and it was kind of messing with his head.

"Alright, fess up," she exclaimed, slipping into the seat opposite of him. "Are you stalking me?"

He snorted and leaned forward with a wry grin. "I can ask the same about you."

Her lips pursed, assessing him for a beat. With a sigh, she mellowed down. "I guess... we live in the same neighbourhood..."

"Still kinda crazy though," he mused. "East L.A. is big."

She nodded, pensive, and then looked over her shoulder to the menu board. "Is it okay if... I sit with you? I was going to grab a latte to go, but since you're here..."

But since you're here - rang in his ears, a careful smile blooming on his lips. Fuck, he really needed to work, but Julie wanted to sit with him, hang with him, be friends with him, outside of all the coincidental meetings they've had.

He wouldn't call it a date yet. He wanted to properly ask her when that day came.

"Sure," he mumbled, biting down the smile from becoming bigger.

His reply satisfied her, the tendrils dancing around her bright eyes as she matched his smile and stood up to make an order.

— — — — — —

Weeks passed with quick meetings here and there, Julie slowly bleeding into his life with laughs and smiles and whirlwind stories about her life. She was always on the go, always bright-eyed and easily matching his energy. He knew his enthusiasm could put people off, but she was never taken aback.

Wit against wit. Snark against snark. A dumb joke met with an amused roll of the eye. It worked. For a while, he even settled on the fact that hey, they might be platonic soulmates. Julie was a great friends and sometimes he felt his emotions fleeting. If they remained friends, he'd be perfectly content.

But then she closed gaps and barriers that had pointedly been kept before. After they got boba, her hand wrapped around his bicep, stretched on her tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss on his cheek. Before he could register it, she was back on her feet waving him goodbye. Luke had a dopey look on his face for the rest of the day.

She kept up cheek kisses, he let his warm embraces linger, their short hangouts turned into hours.

Then one night, she kissed his cheek after they got ramen and he shifted his face 'til their noses brushed. Julie held her breath. Tentatively, their fingers curled together - the simple touch sparking lightning up his arm.

"Is it weird that I've dreamed about you?" he asked, cautious, looking at their joined hands.

Luke wanted to tell her about his initial gut feeling; that he saw her and he knew. But it was too insane and he didn't want to scare her off. But he knew. He's always known.

"No..." Her mouth ghosted his. "I've dreamed about you too."

Luke closed the little space between them, lips slanting together and instantly deepening as one hand came up to cradle her cheek. His heart was bursting with euphoria. It felt as if his body sighed in relief, like it had finally come home. And then he did: he sighed and grinned and giggled when her arms wrapped around his neck.

Oh, man... he might already love her.

— — — — — —

Nothing definite happened afterwards. Though this is what he wanted, he felt weird confirming their relationship when he had always somehow ‘known.’ It had to come from her side, the more level-headed person in this situation. 

So, it was casual, even though he was anything but casual. 

It was pretty great though, walking past Meredith’s door towards Julie’s, having her yank him inside and kiss him like she’d been waiting for years. Kissing Julie was fucking heaven. 

Besides that, they were the same Luke and Julie as before. They got boba or ramen or any new spot that opened up like weeds. She listened to new music with him, sharing earbuds, for his Pitchfork articles. He watched her sing and play the piano at music clubs, becoming more and more enamoured each time simply by the sound of her angelic voice. He built a shelf for her. She taught him how to make friendship bracelets. He met her best friend Flynn. She stayed over for dinner with the guys and got drunk on white wine, giggling along to the jokes.

They fit. But they weren’t exclusive. He had no clue if she was also seeing someone else. He presumed she didn’t, the two constantly revolving around each other, but he couldn’t be certain.

Alex was gobsmacked the first time he properly met her. Stunned that Luke had been right, that it worked out, that East Los Angeles was apparently nothing more than a small town. Luke reckoned he was just jealous he didn’t have to meet his person by getting maimed on the street - ha! 

His finger trailed along her sleeping silhouette, gently and drowsy, observing in awe how a smile subconsciously quirked on her lips and shifted closer to his touch. He closed his eyes and pressed his nose in the back of her neck. There were worse ways to wake up. 

— — — — — —

Eventually, Julie simply decided for him.

She was moving apartments and he was helping her pack, move furniture, throw shit out, the whole nine yards. For one person, she had a lot of stuff, her cabinets an endless supply of decor, souvenirs and memories.

They were whirling around each other like clock-work, never bumping and smoothly handing things over. Rap music was playing from the stereo, its sound drifting from her opened front door into the hallway.

One of her neighbours popped their head in.

"Oh!" The old man perked up, surprised. "You're moving, Julie?"

She looked up from rummaging through her CD collection to shoot him a tired smile. "Yeah," she puffed, "my lease is up, so..."

"Change of pace, I get it. That's wonderful," he nodded, gaze shifting to Luke walking out of the bathroom. "Hello!"

Luke smiled at him, waving with the box of oddly shaped soaps Julie had for some reason. "Hi."

"This is Luke, my boyfriend," Julie introduced, Luke freezing in his tracks all at once as the words utter from her lips. Boyfriend. Holy shit. It didn't faze her, smoothly babbling more than he wasn't processing.

Boyfriend. Which meant that she was his girlfriend. Which meant that now, he had to threaten the guys to not say a fucking word about how mentally deranged he was the first week after meeting her. This wasn’t planned. This was fully her. This was past fate and serendipity - this was by choice. It felt better than he thought. 

The man bid goodbye and left. Luke dropped the box on the coffee table, sliding towards her with a shit-eating grin.

"Boyfriend," he drawled exaggeratedly.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes. ‘Cause you are. I know you well enough to know you can only do exclusive."

"Can you?"

"I said you were my boyfriend, didn't I?"

His smile widened, leaning in to kiss her. She met him halfway, loose curls tucked behind ears before her arms were slung around his waist. I love, I love you, I've loved you forever.

And then the truth tumbled out. Part of it, at least.

"I, uh," he gulped, looking at her through his lashes. "I saw you, that first day, and I thought you were the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

Her face turned tender, a pout jutting from her lip as she gauged his reaction, like she was waiting for him to make a joke. He wasn't.

"Really?" she whispered, voice so small it took him aback for a beat.

His thumbs gently caressed her cheeks, withholding himself from saying anything more. This was enough. It was the truth without the crazy - being with her was crazy enough. Luke settled on a simple nod.

Her head tilted, shy amusement lilting her tone. "Good thing I'm moving closer to your neighbourhood then."

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@blush-and-books​ @bluefirewrites​ @willexx​ @pink-flame​ @constantly-singing​ @unsaid-emily​ @ourstarscollided​

[bonny-kookoo]

Lost Boy (K.TH x Reader) ☁️(💜)🎀

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Angst, a bit of fluff ‘n romance, Good Girl AU

Warnings: swearing, a lot of swearing, Traffic Accident, injuries, confused Tae, it’s a mess okay, smol tough girl reader, kind of idiots to lovers lmao, did I mention they swear? Kinda fluffy? Also a sprinkle of comedy, best boy Yeontan, just read it it’s a mess

Summary: He already knew that time wasn’t playing in his favor, every day being a new possibility for you to find someone better than him, making all of his efforts go to waste and his sweet little game end- yet somehow the world just seemed to have given him a wake up slap in the face. Maybe he needed to stop playing. Maybe he needed to face the truth. Even if it would hurt more than he liked. But hey; at least he’s not alone in the waiting room of this goddamn hospital.

This is a spin-off to Good Girl; congrats if you smelled that coming from reading the Taehyung and Jungkook scene in Brave Girl!

Taglist: @ggukkieland @taetaes-aegi

The fact that he knew so little of you should scare him. It really should, because even though he only knew of your secret obsession with anything soft and cute, and the fact that you wore chokers like it was the most normal thing in the universe, he was whipped. This wasn't just something he felt like he could get over by simply fucking you- no, this felt way worse. This was something more serious than that, and he already saw Jungkook laughing at his face and reaching his hand out for winning his bet with Taehyung that he'd eventually fall for someone. Taehyung had been sure he'd win that bet for sure, very much satisfied with what he had, but eventually you had walzed into his life, in your full small and angry glory.

He'd been annoyed with you at first, really. The way you seemed so fucking grumpy at everything, your sarcasm basically your main language at this point, yet you always looked so disgustingly adorable with your arms crossed and eyes sharp looking at him, as if you could stare him down to ashes if you tried hard enough. He really hated how much he loved the way you never let someone belittle you- how you always had a sassy comeback ready to be thrown out, how you made heads turn just by simply existing in a room. He hated how he found himself looking at you when you weren't paying attention, too worried he might come off creepy if you found him staring. He hated how much you hated him.

Even if he wanted to actually ask you out on a date, all of that had been buried anyways after your last fight. And you were right; he really was just a mean old soul trapped in a young mans body. And that was another thing he despised about you. He hated how you were right.

Kim Taehyung was fucked. Whatever plans for the future he'd made prior, he'd noticed already that he could surely throw them into the next fire he'd encounter.

Everyone else would've ran over to the hospital mentioned instantly, not caring about anything, but he found himself lowering his phone painfully slow, almost as if he had to take a minute to grasp what just happened. This wasn't real. He closed his eyes and began to count. Typically, this helped him to get himself out of any dream he would find himself trapped in, but when he got to ten, he began to accept that this was actually reality.

Would you even want him there? Maybe you'd just kick him out, considering that your last conversation had been anything but friendly. You weren't friends, you weren't fucking each other, hell, you weren't even enemies or anything alike; you had made that quite clear with him. But why was he suddenly walking to his car keys, ushering Yeontan to stay before he walked outside, calmly driving to you?

He didn't know, but he also didn't think about it. The entire way he grew more and more uneasy, his entire being tensing up the closer he got, as if he had to take his final exams again. But this time he couldn't cheat his way out of things. This time, this wasn't something he could slip his head out of before the noose could be tied. Because for the first time he had to face reality.

How was he supposed to face you? You both have had radio silence for two days straight, he didn't even know why the hell he had been contacted-

It was a good thing he had been parking already, because his eyes suddenly widened comically.

'You've been marked in her phone as an emergency contact, so we thought we should inform you.'

Now why the fuck would you set him as an emergency contact, him of all people?!

"Yeontan would be happy to meet you. He loves grumpy people." He said, smiling at you teasingly, yet you could still spot how tired he actually was deep down. You furrowed your brows, rolling your eyes at him. It was a gesture never meant to be cute, but he couldn't help but lean his cheek on his hand, looking at you with almost fond eyes.

"I still can't believe that a person like you has such a cute dog." You exclaimed, reaching for the cup of water on the small plastic table. "Such a waste." You said, yelping in an offended matter when he took the cup from you, calmly, yet still without a frown or a pout as you'd expected.

"He could be yours too, you know?" He said, slight smile ever so present as he dipped the plastic straw into the cup, giving it back to you. He knew he wouldn't be able to hold it for you, he had to give you at least some sort of feeling that you were still independent and didn't need his help, even though you did. It surprised him and yourself a little how he seemed to remember that about you.

"That sounds like you're selling me your dog." You mumbled, chuckling a bit at that before taking a sip. Taehyung watched you carefully, making sure you didn't overdo it like the nurse had told you to. He grabbed his chest playfully, and you smiled again.

"Now, I would never do that!" He exclaimed, mirroring your smile before he yawned, stretching a bit to get his muscles to stop cramping up. "I meant, you know-" But you started to inhale, ready to tell him you sadly knew exactly what he wanted, but his face turned a little grim again, seriousness evident in his tone. "No, not like that." He said, rubbing his hands over his face as if that would help him. "Not to screw you, I don't want to fuck you anymore-" He said, and groaned at you and your raised eyebrows, an offended but amused glint in your eyes at seeing him struggle. "God, no, I still really wanne fuck you- wait I don't mean it like that- shit." He said, leaning back a bit too forceful, hearing the plastic chair creak a bit. "Jesus why is this shit so difficult?" He said, letting his head fall back, the mask he'd pulled down covering the underside of his chin, making his face appear less sharp than you usually saw.

"Its fine" You said, putting the cup down, and leaning back against the pillows again. "I know what you mean." You said, thinking about what he had just implied. But was that really a good idea? Getting close to someone had always been dangerous, but giving yourself to a man like Taehyung? That was pure bullshit and plain boring suicide. But maybe you didn't mind that much. His next words however, made the tips of your ears turn pink.

"Why did you put me as an emergency contact?" He said, actually serious. His voice was low, calm, and he didn't look at you, simply to give you a bit of space, to not pressurize you into answering a specific way. This had been bothering him ever since he reached the hospital, ever since he had to get up every morning at eight to be there for you when you got breakfast. Not that he minded though.

You shrugged. "To be honest, I just wanted to see what you would do in a case like this." Your explanation made him pay more attention to you than ever. "I did it when I noticed the busdriver had skipped our scheduled break. I kinda had a feeling something would go wrong when he started yawning like, every thirty seconds." You said, watching the blanket over your legs. Your fingers played with the fabric, simply to give you something to do and to keep you from looking to your side, where you could practically feel the readheads eyes on you like a red laser dot of a sharpshooter, ready to pull the trigger.

"What did you think I would be doing?" He asked, wondering.

Again, you simply shrugged it off. "I wanted to know if you would actually be there." You said. I wanted to know if you cared enough to face something like this with me. That was what you wanted to say, but you refrained from doing so, knowing he would maybe understand what you said. He scratched the back of his head, before he crossed one leg over the other. His eyes widened at your next words. "Thank you." You said, grabbing the cup again to try and cover up the embarrassment in those words. He stood up with a smile, taking the cup away from you, his face painfully close to yours. Yet he only smiled, and he looked so young suddenly that you couldn't help but stare a bit dumbfounded.

A hand ran over your head playfully, before he grabbed his keys. "I'm gonna go shower. I'll be back for dinner. Don't choke on that!" He said tipping his head in the direction of your water cup, and you spoke up before he could go out the door.

"Taehyung!" You said, and he looked at you over his shoulder. "I uhm.. tell the dog I'm gonna get on his nerves for a bit. They're letting me go on friday after 12." You tried to casually imply. "Oh and I like chinese food. But I guess pizza does the job too."

Taehyung took a bit, facial features confused until his entire being realized what you just said. "I- YES! I mean-" He cleared his throat, answering you a bit more serious. "Yeah sure, I'll get shit ready, uh, yes. Yes.!" He said, suddenly walking way faster than he did before. He poked his head in after some seconds, returning, making you tilt your head at him. "I- uh... forgot to say bye. Bye!" He said, practically running out of the hospital, his facemask thankfully hiding how red his face actually was.

The third trashbag had found its way out of his apartment and next to the garbage bins outside, as he took in a deep breath of air- cold and crisp, waking him up a bit. He'd been cleaning for the entire time after he'd spend a bit of time with you at the hospital during dinner time, practically forcing the plain hospital food down your throat, since you'd refused to eat several times. It wasn't like his apartment was an entire bombing site- he never let any food go bad or leave it laying around. But he had been living alone for so long, never really having visitors over at all, that he'd just stopped caring after a while. Yet for the first time when he came home, he actually saw the chaos of empty plastic containers and old opened mail and newspaper lying around. He saw his apartment for what it had actually become; not a home, but a snailsshell. It had become almost a prison, a pure reminder that he was unable to be alone. But things changed. His windows were open when he returned inside, washing machine in his bathroom buzzing away with his blankets inside, another load of laundry waiting for its turn next to it. Yeontan had been running around excited, interested in his owners change of mind concerning their home- and suddenly Taehyung saw traces of his Shell actually becoming a home. It smelled less stuffy, his laminated floor looking almost unrecognizable to him after he'd vacuumed. Sure, some empty boxes were still sitting in the corner, and the dishes in the kitchen were still waiting to be cleaned, but he'd do that tomorrow.

He knew that maybe he was just caught in that little bit of hope, that tiny string of rope you'd tossed him to grab onto, but he knew it would be worth it. He didn't know why, but at some point, he really did develop honest feelings for you, far away from just plain sexual desire. Sure, you were an absolute treat to look at, and he still honestly thought about what you would look like underneath him- but there were different fantasies now as well. What would it feel like holding you? Would you be okay with him holding you while you both slept next to each other? Did you move much in your sleep? Did you eat breakfast in the mornings, or not? He started to wonder if you'd let him put his hand against yours like in those cheesy movies just to relish in the size difference. He wanted to do these absolute weird things like kiss you when you just woke up even if you had morning breath, he wanted to be confused as shit buying you items for your period, he wanted to take care of you when you were sick even though he hated germs with a passion- he wanted everything, the good and the bad. Was this what falling in love was like? He couldn't tell anymore.

The last time he'd been in love ended in the love being blown out like a match in the wind, burning passion slowly becoming dull and pressurizing. It still was a painful memory to think of, but it had gotten better; he knew they both had made the right decision to end things before they become toxic, starting a new life without the other in different places. Taehyung himself had not tried searching afterwards, content with the attention he got whenever he wanted to; yet always reminding anyone that he wasn't going to turn into a boyfriend- he just craved sexual pleasure, nothing more, nothing less. He never brought anyone home to his place however- his own apartment a sacred place it seemed, yet the real reason had actually been his mess- and the intimacy it would portray for him. He didn't kiss much, always getting straight to the point right away, quiet and fast, as he liked to call it. Those were nights he loved, yet al of this had stopped when your words had reached him.

"You're really fucking lonely, aren't you?"

Well yeah, he was, he couldn't really deny it. But he wanted to change that, and with your help, he maybe would be able to.

"Taehyung really, I could've carried that!" You whined, and he couldn't help but laugh a little, actually enjoying the way you couldn't stop bantering even with your pink crutches next to you on your hospital bed, dressed in black leggings, fuzzy socks, and a plain oversized black shirt. He simply grinned, giving you your crutches before throwing the last bag over his shoulder, waiting for you to hobble after him. He was being considerate, pressing the elevator buttons for you, and holding doors- making the nurses swoon a bit at his gestures, yet you only rolled your eyes at his over the top gentlemanism. Inside you actually liked it, found it adorable how he was being so utterly desperate, but you rather ate another hospital meal instead of saying that openly.

His old 2004 Santa Fe was a little high for you to just slip in, so he made sure to help you inside the passenger seat, before you turned around quickly, spotting the excited puppy in the back. "Oh my- FUCK are you TINY!" You squealed just as excited, reaching for the puppy in the back, making Taehyung chuckle as he closed your door, getting into the drivers seat himself. "What the hell Kim Taehyung! How can you own a dog like that, this is ridiculous!" You said, face in absolute happiness as you ruffled the dogs fur, making him smile. He simply put his hand on your shoulder, silently asking you to sit properly so he could drive, and your ears turned a bit red at the warmth of his hand on your skin. "Sorry." You mumbled, looking outside the window, watching cars and buildings pass by. You wouldn't say it out loud as usual, but you actually liked Taehyungs car, even though people always told him to get a new one. It was homey, felt comfortable, and with him behind the steering wheel you actually felt quite safe. Even though you could spot a few candy wrappers in the car door, some hair probably belonging to the panting dog in the bag, and the windows werent really squeaky clean, you liked it. Because it felt honest.

"Alright, start thinking about what'cha wanna eat." He said, and you noticed how he set his indicators to the left, where a Burger King sign was brightly shining above the cars parked underneath. Your eyes widened, already searching for your wallet, when he clicked his tongue. "I'm paying, no buts. I'm taking a burger, some fries, and a shake. You?" He said, not looking at you but paying attention to the road, making you swallow as your eyes suddenly decided to lock onto his hands, rings clicking against the material of the steering wheel as he turned to the left, entering the drive thru. Did you ever have these moments where your brain just decided to randomly reboot, forcing you to stare at a spot without being able to look away? Yeah well fuck, it seemed like yours decided the delicate silver band around his pinky finger had been the perfect spot. Taehyung chuckled, flicking your forehead gently before smiling at you.

You shook your head, simply scrambling out what you always ate, and he nodded, repeating it to the microphone next to his car, elbow leaning on his opened window. If he wasn't such an asshole you could totally see him as a perfect guy- he was actually a nice person to have around, he had the looks too, only his attitude had always been a problem for you; him being an absolute manwhore in your eyes was just too much of a wall to overcome. Yet it seemed like he had been trying to take this wall down for you, brick by brick, and as much as you hated to admit it, it seemed to be working. The more time you spent with the actual Kim Taehyung instead of Taehyung the one who flirted with everything that had a pulse, you had less and less to complain about. Even worse, things that had been annoying before suddenly became normal or even kind of cute in your eyes; the best example being his bright boxy smile. It had been something that had made you roll your eyes previously, now you found yourself laughing along a bit, finding it charming if you were honest. This was fucking stupid.

You were falling for Kim Taehyung, the guy you fucking hated. Just great.

"Did you actually clean up?" You asked, wobbling into his apartment after he'd helped you slip off your shoes, looking at his living room, eyes falling onto the couch. "Damn. Screw those monthly subscription boxes, you're more surprise than I could ever get." You mumbled, and he grinned a bit, crouching down in front of his couch before pulling something out. "A sleeping couch too? Neat." You grinned, as he made quick work of making a bed out of it. You found yourself actually starting to smile in a fond manner as he took so much care into what he did- making sure the pillows were properly placed, pulling the table a bit further away so you'd have enough space, and more. He suddenly looked up before becoming a bit shy.

"I uh.. The couch is bigger than my bed so, I guessed it was better to let you sleep here." He said, putting his hands into the pockets of his pants. "Jungkook slept over once I think. Said it was comfortable so, hopefully he didn't lie." You nodded, thanking him, before he helped you sit down, huffing surprised when you pulled on his arms, making him almost fall ontop of you, face only centimeters away from yours. You looked at him for a bit before placing a kiss onto his cheek- and he felt like he was back in school, receiving the first gesture of kindness from a classmate. He'd fucked six ways till sunday and back, yet he was frozen in shock by that small kiss, and it wasn't even on his lips. His eyes looked at you, confused, and he got even more scrambled up in the head when you ran a hand trough his hair, smiling contently.

"Hm.. You should stop bleaching it. Makes it feel weird after a while, like I'm touching one of those cheap fake fur coats my mom used to have." You mumbled, before tapping his nose. "I'm eating your fries by the way!" You sang, already crawling towards the paper bags hiding the delicious food inside. Taehyung sat down in front of the couch, hands leaning on the fabric of it, head falling ontop of his arms.

"Don't play with me." He mumbled, and you stopped fumbling around with the bag to look at him. "I know I.. "He raised his head, and you could see how serious he looked. "I know I've fucked up big time but Y/n." He said, looking at you with a pained expression. "I've never once toyed with you, never. Don't do this to me. Please." He said, before trying to get up. You moved towards him, throwing your own principles out the window as you grabbed his neck, kissing him. He pulled away after a moment, eyes closed as if he was in pain. "If you don't mean it sto-" He said, before you kissed him again, more urgently, wincing as you sat weirdly on your leg, making him pull you down onto his own, his large hands reaching for the sides of your face, loosing himself in the feeling of your lips against his. This was everything and more to him, a feeling so uplifting he thought he might get dizzy, the faint salt on your tongue left from the few fries you'd already stolen in the car, everything made him feel high. His senses felt like they were sparking pure electricity, his breathing heavy, as he forced himself to calm down. You did too, resting your forehead against his, as he suddenly chuckled. "Please tell me this isn't just because you pity me." He whispered, and you shook your head, grinning.

"Please tell me you won't fuck this up Tae." You said in an equally quiet tone of voice, and he sighed.

"I wont. Please say my name again like that." He pleaded, and you happily complied.

"Taetae." You mumbled, and his voice made a pleased hum inside his throat.

"Again." He asked, his hands wrapping around your back.

"Tae." You answered, chuckling a bit as his grin widened.

"Again." He said with a laugh cutting him almost off.

"I like you Tae." You said. "I really like you." Slowly leaning your head on his shoulder, he pulled you closer.

"I know." He said, chuckling when you playfully hit his chest. "I really like you too."

And for the first time he didn't mind being immature. He didn't mind as long as it was with you.

"I'm not letting you sleep on the couch with me though."

"Fair enough young lady, I'm gonna go to bed now."

"Goodnight then."

"Goodnight!"

"...Taehyung, can Yeontan sleep on the couch with me though?"

Taglist: @ggukkieland @taetaes-aegi

[story-collector]

AU TIME!

This time it’s green lantern style

This entire thing is going to be based of an oc that I have not yet actually created...just fyi...

The Green Lantern I chose..*dramatic drumroll*

Hal Jordan!

Let’s make something clear...I don’t read a lot of the comics (I try but I don NOT have the attention span for that)

I watch mostly Batman based movies

And what I saw...I didn’t like

I know in one series (I believe it’s Young Justice) they are trying to decide who to let into the league

The other green lanterns already in the league are steadfastly against Hal joining the league

He is childish, immature, irresponsible and they just off about him

They don’t give him a chance

If you want to go off the live action movies (which I am entirely tying that into this AU) Hal was the FIRST and ONLY human to ever be a green lantern

We can pretend the others came a little later

So let’s say he was the first green lantern on earth

He fought hard to protect the planet (it’s that one animated movie when the JL first meets and it has Cyborg and I think Shazam’s origins in it... I forgot the name)

He was the only green lantern, fuck they didn’t even know he existed till he showed up

But the big three found him to immature and slowly edged him out till he didn’t become part of the league

He was like okay, what ever, I’m still a hero and this is still my planet (and sector of space) to protect and I’ll keep doing that

He’s a little hurt but it’s okay

Until the other green lanterns show up

When he became green lantern he was one a very tight schedule and had to learn a lot of things on the fly because he couldn’t get a full training from the green lanterns

And after he defeated the threat he just kinda...forgot, to bust protecting the planet and his people

So compared to a lot of new lanterns he is very undertrained, but no less serious

Now the other lanterns show up

And they are almost immediately brought into the league

And.. he has to admit, that kinda hurts

He was the first

And now he will be the last

They got more training and despite him being their senior as a lantern, the act like the bosses of him

The act superior to him and treat him like trash

It hurts

And brings down his self esteem a lot

The other hero’s still hang out with and talk to him like nothing is wrong

Like he hasn’t been slighted

And pushed to the side

He realizes they just keep getting his hopes up only to let him down later

And he just kinda sits on it and simmers and it gets worse and worse and suddenly there’s a red lantern ring coming right for him

Now this is where and OC would come in

I’m making the example female because I have never seen a female Green Lantern and there might be but not a popular one

Suddenly the ring is stopped by a ball of green light

Another green lantern

This one female, her eyes glow with an unearthly shine, even with her mask

Her hair seems to float around her and she has marks across her face and horns on her head

She’s not human, but she came in the direction of earth

She motions for him to follow her and she opens a portal to the green lantern base

The other lanterns can’t meet his eyes

They know why he’s here and they know where they failed, she made sure of that

She releases the red ring to some heavy duty greens and the salut her as she walks with him down the halls

She’s short, barely coming up to his shoulder, but it is very clear who has the power here

She brings him to a nice sitting room and deactivated her ring, and to his surprise, removes it

He had never seen a lantern remove their ring at the HQ and barely ever on earth

She sits him down and explains as much as she can

She’s not human, but she has been living on earth since Krypton fell

(For this AU I’m going to make the Krypton sector a fairly toxically radioactive place so only few species can withstand it, green lanterns can with the glowing shield around them, but not without it so they couldn’t stay on the planet)

This was her sector as she was one of the only green lanterns that could withstand the radioactiveness of the planet

Her home sector was much the same before it was destroyed by war

She reveals that she protected this sector on her own for millennia, through generations of the royal family (I’m making Superman the last prince of Krypton ok)

She was devastated when it fell because she wasn’t strong enough, to injured, to tired, to save them

She saved Supes pod and brought it to earth, a place she knew vaugely from her own planets war

Krypton was gone and she felt like a failure so she set down her ring and hadn’t even looked at it for almost 40 years

Until she caught wind of a lantern on earth

Who wasn’t fully trained

Who was treated like shit

Who was slighted and used and manipulated

And basically said fuck it, I’m going to train another lantern

Now she was one of the first

One of the oldest lanterns (though she didn’t look a day past 25 if Hal could say so himself)

She knew all the wisdom he would need

And she would stand beside him and protect the Milky Way sector

Hers were gone, so the elders reassigned her to the Milky Way and assigned Hal as her apprentice

They knew that he was destined for greatness and that he would blossom under her training

They agree to keep their knowledge of each other and her reassignment between each other

The other earth lanterns did not protect the sector like they were supposed to

So they would do it themselves

So she brought him under her metaphorical wings and trained him

And he became better

And because I love batman so much let’s say she lives in Gotham

And she’s fairly high up their on the social scale

Obviously she can had and transform her very not human characteristics flawlessly

And she’s been around for millions, if not billions of years, she’s basically a goddess I guess

So she knows her way around money and the good hustle

So she probably knows Bruce Wayne

And probably knows he’s Batman, not that he knows this

So there’s a gala like mabey a year after Hal starts his training

And he’s a fucking fast learner, which is good because the galaxy really needs its protectors

(Some how the JL haven’t noticed that their are next to no alien attackers in the last year, the word has spread and no one wants to go against Kryptons Guardian and her apprentice)

She’s literally shown him the universe

(And this isn’t necessarily a love story, I’d like to think of it as brother sister relationship that they end up developing,or like best best friends, but not lovers)

Anyway Wayne Gala

She’s invited and as a regular guest she is allowed to bring a guest

So she Chooses Hal

She knows that the rest of the JL was invited and some other hero’s as well

And she makes sure Hal knows as well

She tells him he doesn’t have to come

But no, with her guidance he has grown so much more confident and fuck it he’s probably almost as scary as her now and can almost as easily command a room

He’s come far

So they show up

And at first no one really recognizes him

He’s changed

He looks more confident, but he’s still got that childish spark (she told him she never wants him to lose that)

He has a new haircut

And the suit

It matches her dress

Green, for justice

So they don’t recognize him at first

Now the OC is a regular so while Hal gets them drinks and brings their jackets and her purse to Alfred (“a pleasure to see you here Master Jordan”) OC is found by one of the batboys

Let’s say Dick

Because he loves the lady’s

And he brings her over so Bruce can show off this lovely lady, and powerful business partner off to his friends

She know who they are (the other two lanterns are their and for some reason they feel very nervous around her)

She introduces herself and somehow she senses Hal come up behind her and introduces him without even looking

They all sweat drop

And then they start talking

They share story’s together, and laugh and act like nothing is wrong and it all comes to a point to where she responds to a story from... let’s say one of the other lanterns (sue me, I don’t know their names)

And she’s all like “oh that reminds me of this one time on Krypton”

And Hal is like “oh you mean the time...”

And the others are like wtf, who is this girl

The party ends and they go home, but that’s just the beginning

I don’t know what else to put so feel free to add your own stuff!!

[duhragonball]

Bulma

Give me a character and I will answer:

Why I like them: Somewhere around 1998, Kurt Busiek took over as the writer for the Iron Man comic.   This was back when Iron Man wasn’t particularly popular and the last two attempts to reboot the guy had failed.   I read an interview in Wizard Magazine where Kurt promoted his upcoming run, and he explained the character this way: Tony Stark is a superhero, an inventor, a ladies’ man, and a billionaire.    You could have a blast writing a comic book about any one of those four things, but he’s all four.    I may have gotten those four items wrong, partly because it’s been 22 years, and partly because it was more famous when Robert Downey Junior echoed that pitch in 2012.    Take away the armor, and what is he?   A billionaire genius philanthropist.   

My point is that this is the appeal to Bulma as well.    When we first meet her, she’s an adventurer, but then we find out she invented the device that lets her locate the Dragon Balls.  And her mission is a romantic quest, so she’s like the heroine in a romance story.    Then we meet her parents, and it turns out she’s a wealthy heiress.    Well, I’m assuming Dr. Brief doesn’t plan on leaving his fortune to all of his pets, but you get the idea.  

There’s a lot of versatility to the character.   Some arcs barely make use of her, but others take full advantage.    You can plop her in almost any scenario and it works.    You want to write her at a fancy charity dinner?   She’d fit right in.   You want her teaching shop class in your high school AU?   No problem at all.   You want her to seduce a bad guy?     You want her to shoot a bad guy?    You want her to be the bad guy?   It all works.  

The main thing people dislike about Bulma is the way she treated Yamcha when they were together, and she’s kind of a jerk a lot of the time.    Fair point, but I think this adds to the character.   If she were sweet as could be and a rich, attractive polymath, she’d be downright insufferable.    Also, her attitude plays off of the compassion she shows through the series.   I can’t explain her behavior around Yamcha, but she did offer free room and board to the entire population of Namek, so I feel like that needs to be taken into consideration.

Why I don’t: In the first... hundred or so episodes of DBZ, Bulma doesn’t get a lot of chances to shine, despite all the screentime they gave her.   Early into my DBZ-watching experience, I found her to be something like a shriller version of TMNT’s April O’Neil, a sidekick whose job was to look cute and get into danger so the good guys could save her.   She really doesn’t get back into her groove until she returns to Earth, and once I saw those episodes, and her time in the original Dragon Ball, the character began to make a lot more sense.   Really, the Bulma in DBZ #1 through 108 was probably intended to demonstrate how out-of-hand the situation was.   She fixed the scouter and then it exploded.   She fixed Nappa’s spaceship and it exploded.   She fixed Kami’s spaceship and then Namek exploded.    She just couldn’t keep up with the crisis. 

Favorite episode (scene if movie):

Not exactly any one episode, but one of my favorite bits in the Red Ribbon Army Sagas is that the RRA has their own Dragon Radar, but it’s not portable, or anywhere near as precise as the one Bulma invented.    It’s Goku’s biggest advantage during that conflict, and when it breaks, there’s literally no one else who can fix it.    Those magic babies from Arale could make a new one, but I’m pretty sure they only did that by copying the design or something.   And the RRA assumes that Goku must have an entire team of scientists providing him with logistical support, and that Master Roshi must be their leader, since he’s so old.  

Also, near the end of the arc, Bulma needs to call Yamcha on the phone, but Roshi doesn’t have one, and then Turtle suggests that Bulma should just build one from scratch, since she had just finished building a robot drone a few episodes earlier.    And she’s like “Oh, yeah, I forgot I knew how to do that.”

Favorite season/movie: The Androids/Cell arc is a big deal because it has two Bulmas, and her son is in it too.   

And this is what I mean when I talk about versatility.    That Super Dragon Ball Heroes series has two Gokus and two Vegetas, and I have no idea why, because they’re exactly the same, except one pair does SSJ4 and the other does Super Saiyan Blue.   Bulma’s got more layers, so in a story like this, you can have 30-something Bulma care for an infant son and tackle logistical problems while she figures out her relationship with Vegeta, while the 50-something Bulma in the future can be this strong-yet-gentle post-apocalyptic survivalist, who hopes for a better tomorrow as she longs for her fallen friends.  

Favorite line: I’m gonna stray from the canon for a minute, because I’m having trouble coming up with something, but in DBZ Abridged, when she’s arguing with Vegeta during his training session, they just start shouting “Fuck you!” at each other.    Then she stops and says: “My room.    Ten minutes.” 

And holy shit, the delivery on that line was incredible. I knew they’d try to do something to set up their relationship, but there’s no footage to do that with, so they did it all with one line and some killer VA work.

Favorite outfit: This is a big, big wardrobe to choose from, but I’m partial to the one she wore in the Imperfect Cell Saga.

I can’t really explain the appeal, but I like this hairstyle and the clothing looks like authentic stuff you could actually buy at a store, which just makes it feel more real, even though it’s not any more detailed than her other outfits.    I’m not sure that makes any sense.    The trucker hat looks cute on her, let’s leave it there.

OTP: You know, there’s a lot of chemistry between Bulma and Yajirobe, and even though it’s kind of a rarepair, I can’t help but-- Okay, it’s her and Vegeta.   I’ll stop messing around.   

Brotp: Definitely her and Goku.  I’m imagining the set up to the DBS Broly movie going like this.

“Hey, I’m gonna invite Goku along on our trip.    That way you can fight him when you get bored.”

“Why do you keep asking him to tag along I can’t stand him.” 

“Yeah, but I like him and I paid for the resort, so I guess you gotta deal with it.” 

“...”  

Then he shows up and she sends him on some ridiculous mission to search the ocean floor for sunken treasure or something.   

Head Canon: Future Bulma does tech support in Toki Toki/Conton City, because Xenoverse is canon and the Goku Black Saga can just bugger right off because it never happened.   

She shows up from time to time to check on all the Capsule Corp tech in the city, and she drops by just to say hi to her boy, and also she has coffee with my Mary Sue OC, because Future Bulma appreciates how tough and cool my writing is.

Unpopular opinion: The Vegebul ship probably gets way too much attention.  Not that it’s a bad ship or that it doesn’t deserve the attention, but it feels like a buffet where all anyone gets is ranch dressing.    They just ignore the rest of the spread and fill an entire bowl with ranch and head back to the table to drink it.   Then they come right back and line up for another helping.  

I’m not knocking it.   I have a Vegebul calendar in my kitchen.   But it reminds me of how the “comics fandom” in the late 90′s was really just an X-Men fandom that acknowledged that other comic books hypothetically existed.

They’re gonna come after me now, aren’t they?

A wish: A lifetime supply of strawberries does sound kind of nice...

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: I hope we’re done with Bulma’s Resurrection F outfit for good.   The cowboy boots, no, we’re done with that. 

5 words to best describe them: Five would never be enough.

My nickname for them: Don’t have one.   Vegeta calls her “woman”, but I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t go over well if I started doing that.

[leviviii]

The Fate of every Wells, the Multiverse, and the Speedforce.

Possible flash spoilers based on foreshadowing as well as from some of the comics.

Read at your own risk.

So here’s the thing. I was actually expecting Nash and all the Wells to "die" for the sake of creating the speed force. The thing is, I wasn't expecting it to be this early because I was under the assumption that Cisco and Barry were going to "die" too.

Even knowing the name of the episode, I thought maybe they'd figure it out, but I didn't think they'd do it.

Here's what I thought would happen and why. You will notice that I didn't include Chester or Allegra in here… And that's frankly because I forgot about them up until I watched S7:E01.

Whoops.

Cisco would get the last component to his theoretical "lossless, self-sustaining source of perpetual energy" from Atlantis to get Kamila, Iris, and Singh out of the mirror verse discussed in S6:E18.

I thought they'd get them out before they got the speed force up and running. In a world without Covid, maybe they did, but the name of 6x20 was the same as 7x01. So perhaps not.

Anyway. After they got them out, I figured the flash would need his speed to face Eva, and they could use that perpetual motion machine to stabilize the artificial speed force.

Except it's artificial. We already know from the problems that Thawne ran into that got him stuck in the past that an artificial Speedforce is subject to its creation and the point in space-time of its creation.

I assumed that they would realize they needed an organic component. Then rather than an Artificial Speedforce they could make an Augmented Speedforce.

We saw Thawne leave Nash in Red lightning. We could assume that Eobard is now the Augmented Negative Speedforce. I thought we'd get the same thing with Barry.

This is where things go a little off the rails.

We have Barry low on remaining Speed.

We have Wally who we could assume would be far better at conserving his.

We have Nash with infinite Wells likely collected as Pariah watched each tragedy as the multiverse collapsed. Though Nash is no longer Pariah, and Martian Manhunter had to 'unlock' those memories. Those memories were still there to unlock. Same with everyone else who had memories unlocked.

We have Cisco in whom all Cisco's were once connected and as Vibe, could have had a similar situation as Nash, only Cisco no longer has any dark matter in his system. But that doesn't mean he doesn't still have the capacity to be "Vibe."

With these four organic components not only would they make an Augmented Speedforce. They would create the Speedforce as it was originally borne, and once borne it would exist for all time until it died once more.

Creating the original Speedforce would extrapolate the previous multiverse from all the dead wells (if H.R. was in Nash as I suspected… Which cool I was right… Then Earth-1 Harrison Wells would be in there too.) And would require some of the remaining Speedforce that Wally had remaining.

This would essentially recreate each universe containing a Harrison Wells at the point prior to his 'soul' getting absorbed by Pariah. But how to get those other Wells out of Nash?

Enter Cisco with Wally's remaining Speedforce.

Badabing. Badaboom. A lot of pseudo science and you have All the Cisco's and all the Wells' joining in to make the original g'damn Speedforce and an entire episode is used to explain how the first Speedforce was created by the first OG Wells and the first OG Ramon in the first Universe before the multiverse ever existed. Before closed loops ever existed. One where OG Barry was raised by OG Harrison Wells (this would make the whole Speedforce taking on the image of Barry’s Mother a little less weird for me. That isn't a hard req for this theory) and OG Cisco Ramon was OG Harrison Wells science and engineering soulmate. Platonic or not, Cisco does have a connection with all the Wells.

OG Cisco always has been and always will be the main essence of the Speedforce. OG Cisco is what the recreated Speedforce is and was and will be when what's left of it is pulled from Wally. But OG Harrison Wells (as the sentience of the Speedforce) died. OG Cisco's (who is now more universal force of nature than human) soulmate of over a trillion trillion years died.

And after the four organic components are absorbed. OG Cisco asks for a Wells volunteer. One with a connection to the Flash and a connection to Cisco, one who if they went back when the multiverse recreates itself, they'd either not exist or find themselves dead.

Earth-1 Harrison Wells no longer fits the bill given he has no connection to Barry… But H.R. does. H.R. then becomes the TV writers self insert. H.R. takes the place as the sentience within the Speedforce. He writes his own story his beginning and his 'heroic' end. This also explains Wally's advanced connection to the Speedforce (assuming this is not the first time that the Speedforce has been recreated.)

OG Cisco and H.R. Wells become the Speedforce. Earth Prime doesn’t change as Earth-1 and Earth-38 combined do not uncombine, but all the other Earth’s are recreated. The other Wells regain consciousness in their own reality as our Cisco becomes Vibe without dark matter same as Caitlin is Frost without dark matter. And Barry himself becomes the embodiment of the Speedforce same as Eobard became the embodiment of the negative Speedforce. Only Barry has his own body to go back to.

No one actually dies any more than Barry died when he regained his speed when Harry tried to get him his speed back after Barry gave his up to save Wally.

All of this is to say that I'm not sure the Wells are actually 'dead,' and even if they are, they might not stay that way.

On a somewhat related note, I also headcanon E-2 Harry Wells is the Multiverse’s way of trying to make up for EoWells killing E-1 Harrison Wells.

[xxtha-blog]

So apperently I wrote a oneshot fanfic and forgot about it for almost 2 years

And because it's comedy fucking gold, and also some quality post-comic Ace content, I thought I'd share it with you people here.

Without further adieu, may I present to you

A Casual Encounter With Ace

Ink knew very little of Ace. He had met him once, briefly, in the last moments before his AU disappeared into nothingness, Ace sneaking through the portal Dream had created and slipping away from the destruction of his own home like it was nothing more than an average Saturday. Ink barely had the chance to talk to him, didn’t even know his name, he just knew that there was a flamboyant top hat wearing skeleton that enjoyed stealing things and harassing Dream, prancing around the multiverse and causing chaos with no restrictions. Of course, Ink planned to catch him… eventually… if he hadn’t forgotten… multiple times. But it was Ace who seemed to catch him instead.

  Ink had been sitting in the snow, crouched behind the trees of Underswap, checking up on the stability of the timeline, when he heard a voice behind him. At first, he thought it was Blue, the only one who would know to look for him there, but the accent threw him off. Ink turned slowly, curious, and saw the black and red skeleton leaning against his staff behind him, smiling modestly as he surveyed the rest of the underground as Ink did.

  Ink paused for a second. “Hey– Don’t I know you…?” He tapped a pencil against his chin, working with all his might to remember.

  “Perhaps, dear sir, perhaps indeed, for I am quite popular, simply ask my wonderous fans, who may be reading this right now! Which does remind me, do you ever realize that we transcend not only drawings and comic books, but also code, writing, and animations. It’s quite crazy when you think about it, I mean, just look at you. What? One of the most popular characters in the entire fandom created by a mere teenager! Mind boggling and simply astounding, our existence, both of us in fact, relies only on two simple teenagers bringing us to life.” Ace talked mellifluously, his accent smooth and precise, as though someone had mashed together a French and British accent and added a gay flare to it. He talked incredibly fast, as though to confuse everyone with his slur of words, despite them not being slurred in the slightest.

  Ink stood up, brushing the snow off his sweater. “Wait a second!” He glanced up again his eyes widening. “Aren’t you that magician guy?!”

 Ace tilted his head, intrigued.

   “Aha!” Ink declared in triumph. “I finally found you!”

  “Magician guy is quite vague. And a guy, no, no, dear sir, not at all, I simply am I, an illusionist, a magician, a slight bit insane, but far saner than you, so I must ask for you to be a tad bit more specific for fear I may misinterpret what you wish to say and be unable to reply!” Ace spun his staff around, giving Ink a slight smirk.

  “You’re from that AU- Oh what was it.” Ink spun his hands through the air, churning his memory around. “Magicwhatever, Lucktale, Underchance, Chancyluck, Chance, Chance something, Chancetale-? CHANCETALE!” He put his hands on his hips proudly.

  “A dead name, no?” Ace raised his eye sockets into a quizzical expression.

  “I mean, yeah, but you’re still here, which means you’re screwing up timelines. Which means I gotta stop ya!” With a quick flip of his arm behind his head, Ink pulled his paintbrush out in front of him and pointed it towards Ace.

  “Stop me? Stop me! Oh, how wonderful!” Ace’s eyes lit up as he spun on his heel with glee.

  “You’re supposed to be worried,” Ink pointed out. “Like, oh no he’s going to catch me?! Whatever shall I do! And then I go, heck yeah I’m going to catch you! Because I’ve got a super cool paintbrush!”

  “I dare say you do not.”

  “What do you mean? My paintbrush is awesome, I mean just look at it–" he stopped. "Where’s my paintbrush?” Ink’s hands were empty, his fingers grasping at the cold air around them and nothing more. He wondered if his memory had lapsed again, but he could have sworn he had just been holding it. He reached back only to grasp at the air once more.

  Ace casually spun the paintbrush in his hands, still standing stationary a dozen or so feet away, studying the fine patterns on the metal clasps. “Quite a nice paintbrush, indeed, I do not disagree with that, however, you do not have it, therefore your statement was false.” Without another word, the paintbrush disappeared into thin air, and Ace merely tilted his top hat.

  Ink started to take things a little more seriously, his smile fading. He straightened. “This’ll be interesting.”

  “Oh, tis always interesting when I’m here! Just ask your dear friend Dream!”

  “We’re not really friends,” Ink said with a shrug. “He just happens to be useful sometimes.”

  “Oh my! What wonderful news we have here! I’ll be sure to keep it in mind to use against you so that I can slowly break apart your relationship until you are both mortal enemies in which case I can use your turmoil to my advantage!” He clasped his hands together, smiling softly, before adding, "If need be."

  Ink stared for a second. “You know if you really want to be evil, you shouldn’t announce what you’re going to do out loud.”

  “Evil? No, I’m not evil. Never in my wildest dreams would I ever consider myself to be evil, for that would mean I am profoundly immoral, and although I am profound, immoral I am not. I know precisely what is right and wrong, and good and bad, and have no trouble discerning between the two. I simply choose to do good and choose to do bad based on the situation and outcome it will provide me, and dear sir, it is quite a bore to be simply one or the other, is it not? I mean, you’re one to speak, think of the things you have done and the people you have hurt for your own benefit, quite chaotic indeed, but not evil. Few would call the fabulous Ink evil. Therefore I am not evil. I am just spontaneous, whether that be something pleasant or something disagreeable.”

  “You really do talk a lot,” Ink said, crossing his arms.

  “Tis a showman thing.”

  “Showman?”

  “Oh! Would you like to see a show?!”

  “Not really. I was in the middle of–”

  Ace clapped his hands together cutting Ink off, his staff forming between his palms as he pulled them apart. He twirled his staff like a baton before stamping it down into the snow and pulling his top hat off his head, taking a slight bow before beginning, “A magic show! For the fabulous Encre!”

  Ace began to perform his dazzling illusions. As real as reality, yet as mad as a dream. He swept up beside Ink and before Ink could say a word, slipped his scarf right over his head and turned it a kaleidoscope of brown butterflies. Ink went to protest, but a butterfly zipped over top of his mouth and turned into a brown piece of duct tape. The rest of the butterflies froze, falling to ice cubes on the ground before bursting into tiny glass shards that glimmered with little lights.

  “Butterflies were not meant for the underground! How unfortunate. The terms and conditions said nothing about turning to glass, however! Then again, I did not read them. Alas, now I must clean this all up.” Ace spun back around Ink, standing over top of the pile of glass shards.

  Ink shouted, but his words came out as muffled gibberish. He tried to pull the duct tape off, but it refused to budge. He waved his arms around, exasperated.

  “What’s that dear sir? You wish to see more magic tricks? Well, I wish to perform more as well!” Ace spread his arms out, the glass shards levitating off the ground around him before spinning into a small ball and transforming into a lightbulb above Ace's fingertips. He caught it out of the air, studying it closely, before looking back up at Ink.

  “I would put this above my head and say I do so happen to have an idea, but that would be terribly cliché, would it not?”

  “Mphfffff!”

  “I wholeheartedly agree! I’ll put it inside my mouth instead!”

  Ace slipped the lightbulb between his teeth, smiling deviously.

  “Now dear sir,” he said with zero hindrance, despite the lightbulb clamped between his teeth. “It is a well-known fact that when one puts a lightbulb inside their mouth, it shall go in quite fine and then never ever come out again in one piece! Today I am here to prove that theory wrong and promote the putting of light bulbs in your mouth everywhere!” Ace let out a small laugh before quickly inhaling the lightbulb.

  Ink’s eyes narrowed, giving up his attempts to talk through the duct tape.

  “Where ever has it gone? Ah! I know!” Ace reaches a hand inside his left eye socket and pulls the lightbulb into the place his heart-shaped pupil should have been.

  “And now to turn it on!”

  With a slight flick of his wrist, Ace summoned an egg out of midair, then cracked it against the nearest tree. From the cracked shell sprang a toaster, which Ace caught in his hands as though he had done this many a time. He quickly plugged the toaster into the tree and waited a few seconds, but nothing seemed to happen.

   Ink watched, both baffled and annoyed, only able to express his feelings through a few grunts and shakes of his head. Ink had seen many things over his life, AUs full of nothing but Sanses, characters made of watermelons, atrocious crossovers, but nothing quite as strange as this.

  “Oh, I see what I’m doing wrong! Forgive me, dear sir, I have never used a toaster in my life! I run solely off of white chocolate!” Ace unplugged the toaster from the tree and threw it as far as he could muster. “Farewell, dear toast maker. I shall miss thee.”

  He reached inside the small red pouch on his shirt, barely bigger than a golf ball, and pulled a full sized hair dryer.

  Why do you have a hairdryer?! Ink shouted, his eyes wide, but it simply came out as “Wff duh vu hvv a her dyr?!”

  “For this, dear sir, why else.” Ace put the end of the hairdryer up to his eye and turned it on. It wasn’t plugged into anything, the cord dangling around Ace's ankles. As the hairdryer whirred to life, the light bulb flickered on.

  Ace pulled the hair dryer away, making it disappear into a flurry of little pink sparkles before taking a long bow, one of his eyes now made of a little yellow glowing light bulb.

  Ink clapped sarcastically.

  “Why thank you! Thank you! Truly an amusing time we've had here today!” He pranced over to Ink, patting him on the head twice. When Ink tried to grab him, his entire vision spun around and he was suddenly facing the complete opposite direction.

  “Now, now, that’s no way to treat someone who just performed for you.”

  Ink turned on his heels, looking around for Ace, but he was nowhere to be seen. The piece of duct tape had vanished.

  “Farewell, dear Ink, until you wish for another magic show!”

  The voice came from nowhere and echoed throughout the trees before fading into nothingness. On the ground, there was a small paper card. Ink bent over and picked it up, flipping it open. Inside was a tiny brush, smaller than a thumbtack, taped to the inside of the card with a small heart and delicate cursive handwriting: I believe this belonged to you?

[rhubarbbaby]

Strawberries and Art 1

Jihoon x Y/N

Genre: College AU, Fluff Word Count: 2k Summary: Like every passionate art student, you spend most of your time immersed in your drawings and paintings. The day you meet Jihoon, your everyday life suddenly gets a lot more exciting…

All chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5

Chapter 1

Changing the song that was currently playing on your phone, while at the same time trying very hard not to reduce your walking speed was definitely (much) harder than you thought. Twenty minutes ago you had still been asleep in your comfy bed while dreaming about... dreaming about what?

The memories of your dream had slipped away the second your alarm went off. The excessively shrill, piercing tone you had set for your alarm used to get you into a lot of fights with your brother when you were still living at home, because “What the fuck is that sound? Can´t you just use that weird guitar riff like any other fucking normal person?” Although you did always feel a tiny bit of pity for your brother and knew that he had a point (you would of course never admit that), you never changed the sound. You surely were not fond of it yourself but you needed something to pull you out of your sleep.

Even before you started attending university you were used to staying up late. Undeniably, staying up late was and will never be a healthy way to treat your body, you are very much aware of that. Your body wanting to sleep for seven maybe even eight hours was something you have always considered the cruelest inconvenience, the most ridiculous joke, the crudest rule the universe has set for you. Late at night was the time it was the easiest for you to pour all your thoughts, all the inspirations you had collected during the day into your drawings. How were you supposed to bend all your whirls of ideas into drawings if your body was basically screaming at you to finally go to bed? How presumptuous of your body to expect you to fulfill his basic needs.

But no matter how tired you were you nearly never managed to fall asleep before one in the morning which made you resort to the drastic measure of changing your alarm sound to said very shrill tone. After sometimes only four hours of sleep, your body was not willing to let you jump out of bed as simple as that.  One could say the fatigue almost holds you captive every morning until around nine am when you normally start to free yourself from the clutches of your own tired body.

Yesterday you unintentionally set the aforementioned alarm an hour too late which had led to you now having to rush to the lecture hall. Your art history class would be starting in three minutes and you needed at least another five to even get to the entrance door. Despite having had to open the music app on your phone just to select a completely different album until you could finally pick your desired song, you were sure you didn´t lose more than a few seconds. Now accompanied by an uplifting song (not too uplifting though because it was still only eight in the morning which was definitively too early for upbeat music) and the tapping of your shoes on the asphalt you were practically running to your destination.

The moment you finally reached the entrance door a wave of relieve swept over you. Your lecture had only started two minutes ago, which wasn´t too bad. You hurried down the hallway and slipped quickly through the door. Your eyes darted to the front to see if the professor had already started the class. Luckily for you she was still setting up the projector for her visual presentation.  While you tried to breathe calmly, which turned out to be quite a challenge after you had just crossed the entire campus in record time; you were looking for a free seat in the back. But this was an art history class. At eight in the morning. Nothing like an art history class before ten guarantees such an absurdly small amount of participating students. It was not difficult for you to find a free seat. (To be precise: you caught sight of more than twenty free seats.)

Seeing how many of your fellow students had deemed this class as “not worthy waking up for” you suddenly felt a bit insecure and ridiculous. You hated to miss class, even if it was art history. You knew that by simply listening to the professor you would already internalize some of the information. That meant you wouldn´t have to study as much at home anymore which meant you had more time for your drawings. Simple equation. Nevertheless you were feeling like the biggest nerd sitting in a half empty lecture hall with five other students.

Shaking your head slightly as if to get those unnecessary thoughts out of your brain you decided that it wouldn´t do you any good to continue thinking about your situation, so you simply took out your notebook and a pen to prepare yourself for the lecture. Four minutes after the professor had started speaking, your thoughts were already drifting off and your notebook got slowly filled with small doodles instead of the notes you were supposed to be taking.

Putting your things back into your bag you looked at your phone to check the time. It was 10 am. The professor´s voice long condemned to a pleasant background noise, you had spent the last two hours dozing and scribbling in your notebook. You hadn´t had breakfast and you were not hungry but you knew that giving your body some fuel in form of food would be the right thing to do right now. It was Friday and you knew your friend Jo did have morning classes just like you, so you decided to shoot her a message.

You: Hey wanna get breakfast?

You already felt your phone buzz after you left the lecture hall.

Jo: Sure! I´ll wait at the cafeteria.

Happy that you wouldn´t have to eat alone you grinned at your phone and started walking towards your friend. Entering the cafeteria you saw Jo waving while sitting at one of those big tables on the side. You shot her a smile and made your way over. With an overdramatic sigh you slumped down in the chair opposite of her.

“Was art history that bad?” she chuckled. “Honestly? I was just too tired to pay attention. I will never understand why classes that early even exist... It´s inhuman.” you retorted while shaking your head to emphasize your point. “Pretty sure some really sick sadistic psychopath invented morning classes.” She laughed but you knew she hated to get up early just as much as you. “Does Hansol not have class this morning?”

Hansol had been Jo´s boyfriend for a few months now. It´s definitely not that you are one of those girls who are obsessed with finding a boyfriend, haunted by the mission to find a pretty boy to post pretty Instagram pictures with, but Jo and Hansol´s relationship was kind of perfect, or so it seemed to the public eye and even though you (most certainly) were not one those girls, you couldn´t help but feel a bit jealous. Jo was one of your best friends and you were aware that their relationship wasn´t always ideal. They had smaller and sometimes bigger fights, like any other couple but they both were as happy as you had ever seen them and they supported each other unconditionally. When they got together you were scared you´d feel excluded when the three of you would hang out but Hansol turned out to be a total sweetheart (there really was no other way to describe him) who made sure you never felt left out.

“He does. He just was too lazy to get up today.” She shrugged. “You want pancakes? I´ll go get the food.” “Sure!” Fifteen minutes later both of you were not hungry anymore. “I didn´t even realize how hungry I was.” “I only ever realize how hungry I am when I start eating.” you agreed. “I totally forgot to ask you but did you already start drawing that portrait assignment?” “Don´t even remind me. I still have no idea who I´m going to draw. I don´t just want to draw some random celebrity. Everyone is going to do that and I really want it to be good.” “Yeah…but not everyone will be doing it as good as you. But like, have you thought about asking someone to model for you?” “Jo, are you indicating you want to be my muse?” you laughed with her tuning in right away. The mental image of her posing for you was more than just ridiculous. Just as she was about to answer, a boy interrupted the two of you. “You´re Hansol´s girlfriend right?” he asked her.

You had seen him passing you on the hallway before but until now he had never caught your eye. One look was enough for you to realize how pretty he actually was. Just like a mathematician who recognizes numbers everywhere with which they can explain mundane processes, just like a linguist who notices every subtlety of every single word and could distinguish the hidden delicate messages between each syllable, just like that you saw lines, strokes, patterns in the most varied and vivid colors that joined together in your imagination to form drawings and paintings in every place. You could be looking at any flower and the way the petals bent, the way the leaves curled around the stem would just make sense to you. That´s how you were looking at that boy´s face right now. His face seemed to consist out of tender drawn lines that intervened at the perfect spots. His eyes, his nose, his mouth that was slightly twisted upwards into a smile, everything just fit so wonderfully together you inevitably had to think about how amazing it would be to draw him.

“Yup, that´s me.” Jo´s voice had yanked you back out of your thoughts. “Me and Hansol have a class together. I forgot I still had one of his books and I think he needs it to study for that exam next week. Can I just leave it with you?”   He was holding out a book to her. “Sure! That´s really sweet of you, looking out for him like that.” With a comically exaggerated gesture he bowed before us. “The pleasure was all mine,” He grinned. “I´m Jihoon by the way.” “I´m Jo and this is Y/N.” Only now he turned his upper body and finally looked at you. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights. Maybe it was just your imagination, caused by the desire to be noticed by this undoubtedly (really fucking) attractive boy, but his gaze seemed to have remained on you for a tiny second too long for it to be considered normal.

“Delighted to meet you guys.” he stated with a childlike smile on his face which made his eyes disappear. “There´s this party tomorrow. Hansol said he´s coming. You two should come as well.” “We´ll think about it! Sounds like fun though.” Jo answered for the both of you. “Perfect! I should get going. I have class in a bit.” His gaze was turned back onto you. “You´re still going to eat that?” “Wha…What?” “That strawberry. You´re not going to eat that?” Only then you realized you had left a single strawberry on your plate. “No..you can have it.” You stuttered your reply, your eyes wide from embarrassment because you hadn´t immediately figured what he had meant. He picked up the strawberry and took a bite. “Thanks!” he grinned. And then he winked at you. Just like that. Without warning. Promptly you could feel your cheeks turn slightly red and you wanted nothing more than to hide your face in your hands but at the same time you could still not stop staring at his face. In that moment you would´ve sworn that wink was the cutest (but somehow also hottest) thing you had ever seen in your life. “See you at the party!” with that he turned away from you and made his way over to the exit.

Only now your cheeks slowly lost color and your breath seemed to slow down again. You looked at Jo. She looked at you. You didn´t have to say anything , she had already deciphered you. “So you think he´s hot?” she beamed. “So fucking hot.”

What you couldn´t have seen, of course, was the smile with which Jihoon had left the room. What else was he supposed to do when you were that damn cute?

Hi! It´s me, Jo. I´d like to thank you for reading my stuff! I really hope you enjoyed it. If you have any feedback, comments, requests, questions please let me know!

[nightcoremoon]

so for the first time I saw batman: the killing joke.

...

it was okay I guess. but massively overrated. I expected some fucking masterpiece of cinema but instead it was just two unrelated short films that were more style and flash than substance.

so first off, barbara's storyline was mediocre. franz wasn't a compelling villain; just a creep, and a trust fund brat. oh wow he's a mafia kid who stole his family's fortune by hacking. if it was the falcone family I'd have cared more but it wasn't so it's just some faceless deathfodder rando. who gives a shit. the whole situation was just a vehicle to shove batman's dick into babs. which kinda fucks over bruce's character here and judging by the timeline kinda makes him a bit of a groomer, yikes. bruce and gordon have known each other since bruce was a young boy and we know that bruce is way older than babs so yeah bruce totally knew her from birth until present day, he literally utilized an active power dynamic to police her crimefighting activities, and he should have fucking known better and stopped her when she kissed him because it would (and did) compromise their professional dynamic, but hey, batdick. and at least barbara recognized that she was behaving emotionally rather than logically when it came to bruce and paris and took the high road out. that would be a serviceable standalone episode to write her on a bus in a serialization but THIS IS A MOVIE. so for a waste of an already short runtime it's like having an appetizer before your meal but instead of something like a crab cake before stuffed flounder, you get greasy onion petals that are more fried batter than onion before getting a well done cheeseburger that's just a glorified hockey puck on a sponge with a kraft single on top. the animation and vocal delivery were excellent of course, not gonna disparage that aspect, so it was well made, but the writing was just not very good. a polished turd. quantic dream must have developed it then because it feels like I watched a david cage production.

so in a 78 minute movie, five of which were the credits, we had a half hour Disney/Pixar short except those bring joy and this brought boring. also there were a lot of shots of her ass tits and underwear that were obnoxiously male-gazey and there was a token gay for the sole purpose of dangling a carrot on a stick for the queers. look kids, warner brothers and dc comics cares about the lgbts! give us money! a waste of time before the real reason why anyone came to see the movie that literally only exists to pad out the runtime to make it a feature length (even though paying a full ticket would've been a total ripoff because, again, IT WAS ONLY 78. even 9 was 81 minutes long and that had an amazing storyline so I forgave it, but 78 minutes? ugh.

also, GOTHAM RAGE??? CRINGE. SO CRINGE.

alright now for the joker segment.

*ahem*

what the fuck? that sucked! *throws tomato*

mark hamill and the joker's lines and the art and the cinematography and the choreography was all good and the plot was cohesive. I get it.

but holy shit was the writing weak as fuck.

okay so some rando breaks the J-ster out of Arkham (already unlikely but ugh whatever), he didn't turn a trick or recruit or anything, he just went to purchase a carnival. or, steal one. but wait, he DID recruit, but he went to get all of the stereotypical Circus Freak™ stereotypes. little people, fat lady, bearded lady, wolf man, strongman, diaper man (wait, what?), and the two headed woman. I guess if you don't really think about why all of them were super readily available in the outskirts between arkham and gotham [i just realized they both end with -am] then it makes enough sense. and then literally right after that HE RECRUITS SOME GUYS TO HELP HIM KIDNAP GORDON. and then strips and photographs barbara. um. ew. you can tell the writer and director were men. Alan Moore is constantly molesting women in his comics and this one trick pony should be put down already. but whatever. the plot is weak and it only gets saved by the flashback sequences.

oh.

oh no.

they're not that great.

he's a failed unfunny comedian who just wants some money to move his wife to a better house so he turns to thievery with the mob. OR YOU COULD JUST STOP GOING TO THE BAR AND BLOWING IT ALL ON BOOZE. I mean the cops knew where to find him after all so clearly he's a repeat customer (or moore is a bad plot writer who relies on convenience and shut the fuck up and don't critically analyze it). alright so he gets wrapped up in the mob to perform a heist on a playing card factory. GET IT, BECAUSE HE'S THE JOKER??? and he uses the moniker of the red hood to retain his anonymity. I expected the mobsters to be working for francisco but no the paris storyline was only cooked up screenplay for passing the runtime so why would they do something clever and interesting and make the film cohesive? that'd be really stupid to make the movie feel more like one movie and not two short films. at least when grindhouse & planet terror did it they advertised themselves as an anthology film. whatever. he falls in the vat of acid which melts the red hood to his face and I gotta say that's actually a pretty good idea to get his face white and his hair green and his lips red. I like that part. oh wait I forgot about the most important part! his wife gets shoved in the refrigerator. OH WOW THAT'S JUST SO COMPELLING AND ORIGINAL, TOTALLY NOT SOMETHING THAT ALREADY HAPPENED TO GREEN LANTERN. TWICE. although she wasn't literally shoved into a literal refrigerator like alex was. rip in frozen pieces you absolute legend of a trope namer. alright, so... so the joker is sad because his wife died. you know, the wife we saw for two minutes and knew the moment we saw her drenched in sepia she was gonna die. and she died offscreen. kyle's gf died and he was fine. gordon's wife died and he was fine. batman's parents both died and he was fine. oh boo hoo someone I love died! fuck off. I am so goddamn sick of people trying to justify their evil with "I was sad once". it's a stupid trope and it's not compelling. the only valid version is doctor doofenshmirtz' evil(er) version in the PF movie because it's hilarious that it's because of a toy train because that's the emotional depth that fridgewomen is treated with in all of these storylines. but at least batman said so. oh yeah, I almost totally forgot, batman's in this movie.

batman punches people and nonlethally takes them out. by suffocating them and letting them get stabbed and throwing them into pits of spikes and HEY WAIT A GODDAMN SECOND! okay let's just ignore that bit and hope that the little people squeezed between the gaps in the spikes and the strongman could breathe in the face mask and the two headed women had KO gas and the fat lady was fat enough that the knives only stabbed her cellulite. it wouldn't be the biggest reach one would have to make in watching this fucking disaster of a plot mess.

now I did like that it was actually batman, and by that I mean he gave a shit about the insane because he recognizes that mental illness is not a cause of dangerous or criminal behavior, just a potential exacerbating factor if it wasn't treated. yeah he brutalized mobsters and crime lords but they were mostly in self defense while gathering intel. he politely asked sal maroni and the sex workers for information and they gave it to him without violence- he manhandled maroni but only after he reached into his pocket for a cigar which could've been a gun. also batman says sex work should be decriminalized if only by not ratting them out to the cops. he was a genuinely good person in the second half of the movie. too bad it was ruined by the shitty first half that made him a borderline groomer.

joker's song was... bad. mark hamill performed his ass off but the song wasn't that good. it just tried to be willy wonka if he was a voyeuristic monster. oh yeah have the only girl character be paralyzed stripped and photographed only to give her father ManPain™. again... the fuck? joker and batman were both gross but, again. male writers. if it was a one-off I could drop a thermian argument because, alright one and done makes sense, especially 1988 standards. but it saturated and soured the entire goddamn movie because of abhorrent pacing decisions. so you're goddamn right I'm gonna bring it up twice! joker was a creep, his plan was dumb, nolan and burton and lord/miller and even ayer had better motivations. YES I AM SAYING THAT JARED LETO'S JOKER HAD BETTER WRITING THAN MARK HAMILL'S JOKER. not nearly to the level of ledger nicholson or galifanakis but hamill didn't have a lot to work with here and I maintain that his performance was amazing; honestly I like his the best out of all of them but just... not here. but I think I can cut some slack to firelord ozai and luke skywalker even if he just phoned it in here which he didn't. writing was just weak. and that's all there is to it. don't anon me and threaten to remove my bones ok?

alright so batman and joker fought and joker got the upper hand and was gonna kill him but it was a prop gun. haha. they had a heart to heart and batman tells joker that he wants to help him get better, even after joker killed robin and molested barbara and traumatized gordon and did countless other travesties, he still said he would help. but joker said no, and told a joke that was good enough to make batman laugh. and then the credits rolled.

...

what a completely pointless and empty ending. oh it's deep and meaningful and poignant? ok sure, I guess, movie, but you didn't earn that. shyamalan did the same thing a dozen times. that doesn't make him any less of a shit writer.

I can understand the concept of batman laughing at joker's joke, humanizing him.

I get it. I see what they tried to do. I respect it.

but this movie was massively overhyped and overrated and I expected it to be so much better than it was. but overall to me it was just another batman cartoon to throw on top of the pile. maybe it was influential to graphic novels. maybe it shaped batman into what he is today. it published right as tim burton's movie and I can respect its place in the pantheon of comic history. but sometimes things that are classic...

aren't that great.

citizen kane, casablanca, the maltese falcon, the treasure of the sierra madre, gone with the wind, singing in the rain, all of them are classic and legendary pieces of art. but they're just not that good, interesting, appealing, watchable, or FUN. they were good at the time- I mean come on we all know them today- but on going back you'd have to really appreciate the finer details to still love the movies today. and this belongs there, in the vault, to be appreciated from afar. influential if dated.

but god am I still disappointed nonetheless.

TL;DR

it was just okay. had some good ideas, had some really bad ideas, had some ugly stuff. overall mediocre. first half 5/10, second half 7/10, overall 6/10.

[fatgirlwritesscenarios]

You’re My Home

((A/N: I’m running out of stuff to say in here...I’m very sleepy, but I do this to myself. This one is old! Like OLD! Like before The8 became as cool as he is now kind of old! When he was adorable before he became suave, you know?))

Pairing: The8xReader 

Genre: Fluff 

Word Count: 2,131

Summary: Minghao has been feeling underappreciated, forgotten, even looked-over as if he weren’t important. All it takes is one night with you to be reminded that he is, in fact, loved. More than he thought anyone could love him. 

                                                      *~*~*~*~*~*

It all got to be too much sometimes, especially as of late. The promoting, the performing, the fan signs and TV appearances; the high demands to be better, fancier, more good looking and accommodating to the fans. Every member felt the pressure with each comeback, never wanting to disappoint those that supported them, but at times…Minghao felt it the most out of everyone.

No matter how hard he tried, he was never good enough. He was always overshadowed by the others and their multiple talents they were allowed to showcase. He didn’t doubt his own talents, of course, but…sometimes he wondered if it even mattered if he were there or not. He read on the internet once or twice about how little people saw of him, of how he barely had even one reliable fansite dedicated to him, and how they easily forgot he existed.

It wasn’t their fault. They weren’t trying to be mean. It was just fact! It was true that he was barely the center of attention and that most fans were quick to stan everyone else before him, thus more pictures of them completely overtaking any pictures there may be of him. He accepted those facts a long time ago, but that didn’t mean the reality didn’t hurt every now and then. Sometimes…he felt underappreciated, unloved even and sometimes…he just wanted to run away.

Regardless of that, there was one place that he returned to where the love was endless. There, everything he did was appreciated and the most important pair of eyes was always solely on him at all times. He didn’t have to fight anyone for attention and he was made to feel like the most talented man in the world.

That place was wherever you were. A place he happily called home.

After a particularly bad day where Minghao was getting a little too deep into his feelings, he decided to stay with you at your apartment instead of at the dorms. He hadn’t seen you in too long anyway, it felt like, and he hated when his schedule took him away from you for long periods of time. It made him feel like he was neglecting you. So, after stopping at a street florist and picking up the prettiest, brightest bouquet they had, he trekked to your apartment that evening, ready to enjoy the few days off that he had with you alone.

“Baobei, I’m home!” he called through the apartment as he entered, taking off his shoes and setting his bag down.

There was a smell that hit him immediately and gave him pause, his nose lifting to the air to inhale deeply. He knew that smell, so familiar and welcoming. It made his heart stutter and caused a powerful emotion to roll through him as memories of his childhood flashed before his mind’s eye.

“Y/N!” he called again, moving quickly towards the kitchen where he heard shuffling.

Your head popped around the corner, bright eyes shining and smile as warm as hot tea on a cold evening; “Minghao!” you cried, disappearing for only a second to adjust the fire on the stove before sprinting towards your boyfriend, “You’re home!”

“I am. I’m home,” he agreed, opening his arms wide to embrace you as you threw yourself at him, hugging him as if he just came back from war, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too!” you gushed, cupping his face in your hands and rubbing your nose against his excitedly, “Oh, look at you! I’m so glad to see you. I’ve been so lonely without you here.”

“Me too.” He smiled and accepted the kiss you pressed to his lips, chuckling before taking your hand and twirling you around. He reveled in your giggles before pulling your back against his front and presenting you with the bouquet, “I got these for you.”

His heart leaped with joy when you gasped in delight, “Oh, these are beautiful! Minghao, you’re the best.”

You took the flowers and pressed a kiss to his cheek, his smile practically tearing his face in half. “This bouquet is huge! I don’t even think I have a vase big enough to fit it. Oh! Just kidding! There it is!”

You pulled a large vase from underneath the counter and ran water inside of it, going about clipping the ends of the flowers and placing them inside. While you were busy doing this, Minghao wandered through the kitchen as the smell hit him again, peering into the boiling pots and pans you had going.

“Y/N, babe, what are you making? It smells so good,” he asked, peering back at you, “It smells like home. Like China.”

You looked at him and then hummed in realization, a grin bigger than your face, he could swear it, appearing a second later; “Oh, yeah! So guess what,” you started, running the vase into the living room and placing it on the side table by the balcony doors before scurrying back to the kitchen with Minghao, “I was out walking around town today and took a couple of suspicious left turns because, you know, I suck at directions and got myself lost.”

Minghao chuckled, leaning his back against the counter as he watched you bustle around. “And while I was trying to find my way back to the main road, right there, on the right side and tucked between an insurance place and some random video game store, I think, I don’t even know, was this little grocery store. And when I saw little, I mean little. Like, this place was barely bigger than my apartment, it was crazy. Anyway, I got to talking to the lady that owns it because she was outside sweeping and come to find out…it’s a Chinese grocery store!”

Your eyes grew so comically wide that Minghao just had to laugh, his own surprise at the news melting away, “No way! You’re kidding me!”

“I would never! She took me on a tour of the store, which only took about two minutes that’s how small it was, and it was legit a Chinese grocery store just like the ones back home when you and I went to visit your parents! So I’m looking at this lady like, ‘Where you been all my life? I have a Chinese boyfriend and I need to make him food to remind him of home’. And she’s like, ‘I got you, fam’. Long story short, I’m cooking your favorite dish with all the proper ingredients for once! I also called your mom and had her walk me through it for the first twenty minutes to make sure I don’t mess it up.”

Minghao was moved, that emotional wave from before now cresting as he stood there watching you, that beautiful smile of yours lighting up his entire world and forcing away any dark shadow of doubt from his mind. How could he still feel unloved when you were right there? Cooking his favorite meal and even calling his mom to make sure you were doing it right? How could he feel unwanted when you go through all this trouble and are always so excited to see him whenever he came home? He covered his mouth with a shaky hand, his eyes tearing up.

You were quick to notice it and your brows furrowed in worry. “Oh…Oh, Minghao…Babe…What’s wrong?” you asked, rushing towards him, “What happened? Did something happen? Why are you crying?”

He shook his head, trying to blink away the tears, but your concern only made the emotions stronger until his tears zipped down his cheeks.

“Baby, talk to me. What’s wrong?” you encouraged him, squeaking when he suddenly engulfed you in a bone-crushing hug.

“I just love you so much,” he sniffed, cradling the back of your head with his large hand, “You make me feel like the luckiest guy in the world. You went through all that trouble for me just to make my favorite meal, to bring China to me for a little bit.”

You giggled and rubbed his back, “It was no trouble, Minghao. I do things like this for you because I love you, too!” You pulled away and wiped his tears gently with your thumbs while his hands remained on your waist. “I always want to make you happy and see you smile. You work so hard and you put so much effort into everything you do to make everyone else around you proud. I want to give that back to you even if it’s something as small as making you dinner. You deserve at the very least that much.”

“Thank you, Baobei,” he whispered, smiling softly and leaning his forehead against yours, his eyes closing.

“You’re welcome,” you replied, leaning up to give him a chaste kiss, “Now why don’t you go take a shower and get comfortable? Dinner will be ready by the time you’re done.”

He nodded, but was reluctant to leave you; after going as long as he did without seeing you while they were promoting, the last thing he wanted to do was let you out of his sight. You made him go, though, telling him that the sooner he bathed, the sooner you two could be reunited for the rest of the night. That did the trick, Minghao running into the bedroom to grab some pajamas before heading into the bathroom.

It didn’t take him long at all to shower or to get dressed, but true to your word, when he came back, dinner was ready and set out on the table. Not only that, but his dirty clothes that were in the bag he dropped by the door were already running through the washer. You both enjoyed a home-cooked, Chinese meal as you conversed with one another, Minghao talking about all the crazy adventures he and the boys went through while promoting. You tried to keep him talking about everything he did, wanting to hear about it, but he refused to tell you anymore until you told him how you were doing. He felt so removed from your life and wanted to be integrated back in. He was attentive and hung on to every word you said, loving the way you talked and how animated you got.

With dinner over, the dishes washed and the hour growing late, you decided it was time for the both of you to head to bed. Besides, Minghao was having a hard time staying awake for the show you were watching and you figured it was because all his hard work was finally catching up to him. You got ready for bed, brushing your teeth in the bathroom together and making faces at one another. Finally, after turning out the lights, you both lay cuddled up to one another, Minghao’s head tucked underneath your chin as he rested on your chest. Usually, he was the one to hold as you drifted off to sleep, but tonight, you knew he needed you to hold him and you were more than happy to oblige.

He listened to the cute little fluttering of your heart, so warm and welcoming, slowly lulling him to sleep. Your fingers carded through his hair gently, smiling when his arm draped around your waist and tugged you even closer.

“Thank you.”

“For what? Dinner? It was no problem.”

“No, Baobei…for everything.” Minghao lifted himself up to look at you, those big, intelligent eyes of his boring into your soul. They made you blush, making you feel as if he were undressing you, laying you bare before him so that there was nothing you could hide. “Thank you for putting up with me and the crazy schedules that keeps us apart. I know it’s just as hard for you as it is for me to be separated. Thank you for doing all that you do for me, for making my favorite food for me and for reminding me that even when things get hard, I always have someone in my corner, cheering me on and loving me unconditionally. Thank you for being my home.”

“Minghao…” Now it was your turn to get teary, your boyfriend chuckling and kissing the corners of your eyes before laying one on your lips, “I love you. So much.”

“I know, Baobei. I love you, too,” he whispered, laying his head back down on your chest and yawning afterwards, “Good night. Promise you’ll be here when I wake up?”

“I promise,” you giggled.

“Good because as soon as I do wake up, I’m going to spoil you. You deserve at the very least that much.” He took your free hand and kissed your fingers, holding them securely against his heart before drifting off into a peaceful, happy slumber with the sound of gentle heartbeat guiding his journey.

[redstarwriting]

Dimension Hopper

Avengers x Reader

Request: “Hi!! I was wondering if I could request an imagine about a reader from our universe going to the marvel universe?? And she's super smart and strong but like, a little younger than Peter (15). I'm still not over Endgame so can she be confused when everything is normal and the Tony thing didn't happen, and the avengers are confused about why she is so happy about tony, idk just FLUFF PLEASE😊💖“

Word Count: 1,858

Genre: Fluff, Platonic

Warnings: Endgame spoilers, swearing, run on sentences

A/N: Not gonna lie, I got carried away on this one. I might make a part two to it to show just how close the reader gets with the rest of the Avengers in this specific story, and to show that she’s a strong ass girl as well. I already have ideas for it, and I really enjoyed writing this one. I hope y’all enjoy it as well! I’m working on all the other requests I have right now, so if you sent one in I’ll get to it as soon as I can!

───────────────────────────────────

Saying you felt like your heart was ripped out of your chest was an understatement. You’d just seen Endgame, and while you loved it and honestly had an out of body experience during it, Tony died. No more Iron Man in the MCU. Needless to say, you cried your eyes out. Even though he was a fictional character, he was your role model. You, like him, were very interested in engineering and science and things like that. In fact, you understood a lot of what Tony could do, and you’re only fourteen years old. You keep the fact that you can understand all the complicated engineering things that Tony talks about a secret, of course, considering the technology to actually pull off what he can do doesn’t actually exist in this world. You were working on that though. When you weren’t doing your schoolwork or reading comics or watching Marvel movies, you were out in your garage, working to become this world’s Tony Stark.

Needless to say, as soon as your parents park, you hurry to start working on your projects. You’ve already seen Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, and the entire concept of it interested you. Different dimensions, the multiverse, it all was something that seemed to be calling out to you. So, needless to say, you were trying to find a way to travel to other dimensions, only safely. You don’t want to find out what that glitchy thing that happens in Spider-Verse actually feels like. You’re just grateful that your dad happens to own a weapons company, much like another super genius in the universe that you would like to travel to. That’s what allows you to develop and invent all the time. It’s quite convenient, actually. Nevertheless, you’re lost in your work, distracting yourself from your sadness about Tony Stark, and you don’t even realize how much time has passed. It’s a Saturday, and you saw the movie at a one o’clock showing, so you got out of it at around four o’clock, meaning you started working at around five since you went and ate dinner with your parents. Now, it is four in the morning. And you are tired. It’s not the first time you pass out at your crafting table, and it certainly won’t be the last.

Now, you’ve gotten pretty far on the designing and creating of the fancy touch technology that Tony uses in the movies, and you’ve been using it more and more. Laptops and touch screen phones are a thing of the past for you, but you haven’t shared anything you’ve discovered with the world yet. Why, you ask? You’re fourteen. Chances are no one would believe you and they’d probably just say your dad was the one who actually did it, and you’re not about to let the things you designed get credited to someone else, even if he helped create you. With the technology you’ve created though, you can do things that are way beyond thought of on this Earth. And that leads back to the task you have at hand. Dimension hopping. Although you’ve fallen asleep, diagnostics for the machine that will be used to help dimension hop are being run through over and over again. You finished the basics of it, now you just need to find the exact way it will actually work. Lucky for you, a successful way is found. You’re just sleeping when it is. Crazily enough, the program downloaded itself into your watch, and you must have moved around and hit something in your sleep, because you hopped a dimension. The only downside? You were asleep when it happened. So, imagine your shock when you wake up, and everything around you is abandoned. Your machinery and equipment are nowhere to be found. You glance down at your wrist, pulling up information on what the hell is going on from your watch that you designed. “April 28, 2019… but what happened to my lab…?” you mutter, confusion and utter devastation flooding your mind. You think for a second and realize something. What if you’re in a different dimension? You frantically begin typing, trying to figure out what’s happening. Before you can even begin to look at the search results, though, the ceiling behind you gets blasted through. You turn, seeing none other than Iron Man, Tony Stark himself, looking at you. “A kid? You’re the one who caused a surge of energy?” you hear him say, and you just stare at him. “Y-You’re-“

“Rogers, it’s just a kid. She’s not about to harm anyone. She’s not even armed with anything and she literally just woke up… no, believe me Barton, I know what falling asleep while inventing looks like. She’s got it written all over her face. And hair. Yeah, of course you can come in, I already told you she’s harmless.”

Tony steps out of his Iron Suit, looking directly at you, and you literally just stare at him with your mouth wide open. “What’s your name kid?”

“You’re real?! And alive!” you blurt out and Tony just stares at you. “Wha-” You cut Tony off by crushing him in a hug. “Woah! Okay, okay, hey,” he decides to let it happen, but he is pretty confused. Before the embrace is over, Steve Rogers, accompanied by Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff, and Clint Barton all walk through the door. Through the gigantic hole Tony had previously made in the ceiling flies Thor. You immediately pull back from Tony, and nearly start crying. “Nat’s alive too! Oh my god this is amazing!” You start freaking out, and now they’re all looking at you with a weird expression. “Okay, what’s going on?” Steve asks, approaching you. “You’re not old!”

“No, he’s old, he just looks young,” Tony says, and Steve gives him a look. You laugh, shaking your head. “No I know he’s like 101 years old, but he still looks like 25! He isn’t an old man on the outside!”

“What the hell is going on here, Stark?” Clint asks. “Yes, I am also wondering who this child is and why she is stating that we are all alive when it is obvious that we are all alive,” Thor says. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Tony tells him. “Okay, yeah I can imagine how this is weird but oh my god you guys don’t understand. I watched you guys die and now you’re here and I’m here and you’re all okay and you’re all together again and I’m just so happy you guys are amazing, Tony you’re my literal idol I want to be just like you and I’m so excited I finally get to meet you and I know I’m repeating myself and if this was typed out it would be a huge run on sentence and-”

“Wait, slow down, you watched us die?” Tony interrupts you, concern written all over his face. “Yes! And to be completely honest I have no idea how all of you are alive and I’m totally confused about it... does Thanos exist? Are you guys searching for the infinity stones? ‘Cause if not, you should totally do that before Thanos-”

“How do you know about the stones? And Thanos- who are you?” Tony asks, in obvious disbelief. “Oh, yeah! I forgot that part, my name is (Y/N), I’m fourteen years old, and I already told you I love you, but I love you. Like a lot. Like you inspired me to become an engineer... but seriously, how are you guys alive?”

“Well, we did fight Thanos in Wakanda, but he never got the chance to snap his fingers. Thor cut his head clean off with Stormbreaker and Doctor Strange used the time stone to bring Vision back and Cap and I decided to set aside our differences and start working together again. After a risk that big, it would be better for all of us to work together than be separated but that’s enough about that, you’re fourteen and you’re already an engineer?”

“Oh my god, that’s crazy! Everything I though I knew was a lie what the heck, this is insane! And you’re back together?! This is so great. I’m so happy I designed this watch so I could jump from my dimension to this dimension-”

“Your dimension to this dimension?”

“Yes, my dimension to your dimension.”

“You’re from a different dimension?”

“Yeah! Isn’t that cool! And so far, no glitches and my organs feel fine so I’d like to say this was a success, the only problem is I don’t entirely know how I got here,” you think out-loud, pulling up the hologram like technology that exists in this world already from your watch, beginning to type some things out. “So you invented that watch?” Tony asks, walking over to you to see what you were typing. “Uh-huh… it only took around two and a half months to design the watch itself and integrate the dimensional navigation software, but the technology used in it took me about six months to develop.” You can feel Tony’s eyes on you, but you just keep typing away. “How long did you say you were going to stay here?” you hear Bruce ask, and you shrug. “I didn’t say, but to be honest it looks like I’m stuck here because fun fact, this was somehow activated while I was asleep. I have no idea how to get back to my dimension, so…” you look at Tony, “Do you have a place I could stay until I figure it out?”

“Uh, yeah I do. I kind of want to talk to you about some things. I’ve noticed you don’t have an A.I. I could help you out with that, you’d be amazed at how much simpler it makes things,” Tony says, and your eyes widen. “Really?! I can have my own JARVIS?!”

“Hell yeah you can. Now with this watch, do you think that-“

“I hate to interrupt your science party, but are we just ignoring how she knows so much about us?” Natasha asks. “Oh! The dimension I’m from is hero-less. You guys exist in movies, I’ve seen every major battle you guys have had. Including one that won’t even happen because your timeline is different from the timeline that was created in my dimension,” you explain, not diverting your attention from your watch. “I have them all if you’d want to watch them. The actors look just like you guys, it’s pretty dope,” you inform and they all stare at you in disbelief. “You know, (Y/N), I think we’re gonna be good friends,” Tony tells you, and you smile. If you thought it was crazy that you discovered dimensional traveling, it’s even crazier that you just met not only your idol, but your future best friend. With the things he taught you, you went back to your dimension and released all of your tech, advancing the boring old Earth you knew. You constantly travelled between your dimension and the Avengers’ dimension, and because of Tony you always had a place to stay. You also may have brought Peter Parker to prom. Crazy how that works.

[tinytony-snack]

Boy bands and movie marathon

[Superhusbands, superfamily, omegaverse, making-out, fluff & smut]

~~~

A two-day mission wasn’t the longest time he spent far from home, however coming back felt strangely like returning after an entire month of radio silence. Every hour he spent without his family was wrong under many aspects, especially during cold days, when all he wanted was to wrap his arms around his Omegas and little Alpha, cuddling with them while watching a kid movie—he almost forgot any other movies still existed.

The only thought made his chest warmer, like only a sweet kiss from Tony, or a good sip of hot chocolate, could do.

He entered the new Avengers compound and slid his shield off his shoulders, setting it aside on the floor. Sometimes also Captain America could be a little messy, by leaving the shield anywhere, or the dirty dishes in the sink, or putting coffee grounds in the disposal. Nothing that Tony didn’t know already.

The air inside was warm, the atmosphere peaceful; it was pretty soon in the morning, shortly after dawn, and a Sunday no less. A lazy day by textbook, that even Sam and Nat were probably still asleep or quietly reading a book, and they were the most morning people of the team, after himself.

With his mind and body already relaxing at the idea of getting into bed near his husband, Steve stepped into the living room of their quarters, only to stop again, that time surprised by what he saw.

Tony wasn’t sleeping in their bed, curled on Steve’s side, his face pressed on Steve’s cushion, fluffy bed-hair sprawled everywhere. He was crouched on one sofa, working on the StarkPad, wearing a big blue sweater that was falling down one of his shoulder—definitely not one of his own—comfy, old sweatpants and a pair of socks with a pattern made by little Steve’s shields.

The Alpha’s gaze laid immediately on him, beaming in the view that was his mate covered by his own clothes; Tony was a thief, that’s been clear since the beginning of their relationship, and even after many years of marriage Steve still felt his possessive side being teased by it.

Tony looked back at him, his brown eyes sparkled when he saw the Alpha. He couldn’t get up though, his movements were limited by a blonde head resting on his lap, and by another bigger body curled around his sister and half pressed against Tony’s side. Their children were sleeping on him, wearing their favorite Captain Marvel and War Machine footie pajamas.

Steve memorized the scene, to draw them exactly like that, a warm image of the loving Stark-Rogers family.

“Welcome back,” his husband whispered, tilting his head in that adorable way that made Steve wanting to kiss him all over.

“Hey Omega. What’s happening here?” He kept his voice down too, looking sweetly at their two sleepy children. The more they grew, the more their sleep became light, just like the both of them. Steve was sure his Omega was holding his charming purrs to avoid waking them up.

He walked closer to the couch, stepping out of his shoes along the way, just to be stopped by the finger Tony held up in front of them.

“Don’t sat on my couch with your dirty clothes,” he warned, putting aside the StarkPad.

Steve rolled his eyes but stopped, for the moment, to undress from his work suit. Tony loved his furniture.

“Yesterday I told the kids you were coming home early. They woke me up one hour ago, begging me to let them stay awake until your arrival,” the Omega explained, gently moving one of Mary’s blonde lock away from her gracious face.

Steve’s heart melted. He took a deep breath of his family’s scent, looking at them with the most devoted gaze. He was the luckiest man on earth; his family was beautiful, they made him happy, and cherished, they were everything he always wished he could have when he was only a young soldier, but didn’t think it could really happen.

“I appreciate the effort,” he joked lightly, his voice shaking a little. “You should go back to sleep too, honey”

Tony shook his head, resting it against the back of the sofa. “I prefer what I’m doing now,” he said with a smirk, desire coming out of his eyes as he was ogling at Steve’s massive body. “Mmm yes, slowly,” he murmured, slightly parting his lips.

Steve restrained a chuckle, but did as Tony ordered, gradually unzipping the suit from the back. It was very innocent considering the things they did together… or to each other, but the Alpha’s chest raised with pride in being desired by his beloved Omega, and he released a low, deep rumble.

Tony’s eyes opened wide, not in awe but preoccupied, knowing that once the kids were awake, nothing could’ve made them sleep again, until night. Steve froze, with his suit open but still on, then his mouth curved into a bright smile.

“Pops!” Mary chirped, lifting her head and looking stunned at her dad. Peter followed her right after, opening his chocolate eyes and smiling excited. “You’re back!”

“Hi there, miss scientist,” he greeted Mary, scooping her up as she left her spot on the couch to throw herself at him. “Morning baby boy,” he said to Peter, who circled his waist with his arms and pressed his chin against his stomach, looking up first with a sunny smile, that was all Tony’s, then it became a little pout with a frown. Most of his facial expressions were all Tony’s, really.

“I’m not a baby,” he answered, as Steve placed one hand on his head, ruffling more his bed-hairs.

“Yes, you are, Petey,” the young Alpha responded seriously, while also climbing her Pops. Steve wasn’t sure why she always did that, trying to get over his shoulders or his head, it was just funny and sort of cute. His cute little monkey.

“You’re both babies, that’s it. Now that the case is closed, let your father be a good husband and kiss me properly,” Tony got up and hugged both Steve and Peter—since he was still attached to the big Alpha—making a comic kissy face.

“Ew,” both the kids whined, Mary curved against Steve’s shoulder, with her upper body dangling from his back and her feet almost kicking Tony’s face.

Steve growled playfully, planting a rather loud kiss on his Omega’s lips and blocking Mary’s legs before she could hurt him.

“So bossy,” he whispered, with his mouth still pressed against Tony’s.

“You missed me,” the Omega retorted laughing, a sound that filled Steve’s heart with more love. He should’ve always laughed; it made his eyes wrinkle at the corners, and the cheerful smile took the Alpha’s breath away.

“Papa, guess what Ned and I did last Friday!” Peter exclaimed to obtain his attention.

“Let’s see, have you two… been to space? Joined an alien boy band?” He faked thinking about it, while circling Tony’s thin waist with the arm that wasn’t holding Mary’s legs. His mate pressed himself against Steve’s side, nuzzling on his cheek while purring low and steady. They could’ve spent hours wrapped around each other like that, talking and laughing with their kids.

“Noo,” Peter giggled, like his dad was really silly. Then he halted, looking up again with a questioning look. “Do aliens play music? Could we join their bands?”

“Absolutely not,”

“We’ll ask aunt Nebula,”

Steve and Tony answered, then exchanged two very different looks.

“Don’t put those kinds of ideas in my son’s head,” Tony threatened him, trying to glare, but still looking all soft and cute.

“Then what did you guys do?” For the sake of his marriage, Steve followed his instincts and didn’t press more on the other topic.

“We stayed up past midnight, watching a Star Wars movie running!” The little Omega squeaked, looking so excited for doing something for the first time.

“Don’t you mean a movie marathon?” Tony snorted, looking down to pet his son’s hair with Steve. Peter nodded, pressing back with his little head, making their hearts squeezing when he purred.

“Uh, you’re a big Omega then, staying up ‘til late with your friend,” Steve praised, his voice soft, coaxing his family with a gentle rumble from his throat.

“I got A for my art project,” Mary interrupted, kicking lightly again to move from her current position.

“Easy there, monkey,” Steve helped her sliding down to sit on his arm, then she got two kisses on her forehead and cheek from both of her dads. “And great job, I knew you’d make it.”

“Does that mean I can join the alien band too?” She asked, pulling off her best round puppy look, that she totally didn’t learn from him.

“Daddy and I will talk about it,” Steve answered, before Tony could react again. His Omega gave him a severe look, mouthing a ‘no’ without saying it.

“I’m hungry,” Peter announced, just when the Alpha was leaning down to kiss Tony again. He couldn’t resist the Omega when he acted sternly.

“Go with your sister in the kitchen and get the ingredients for pancakes, we’ll be there in a moment,” Steve instructed them, putting Mary on the ground.

That got him two excited squeaks, and an involuntary purring from his still slightly upset husband. Tony loved when he used the Captain’s voice, and he might or might not have done it intentionally.

He opened his mouth, but Tony shushed him. “Are you willing to risk adding something else that could put you in more troubles?”

Steve thought about it for a moment, gazing in his Omega’s smug eyes. They weren’t fighting, but that little argument was keeping them from having some other kind of quality time together, and after two days he needed more than chaste touches.

Instead of answering, he circled Tony’s waist with both arms making him bend over, following right after, kissing him properly.

The Omega muffled a surprised moan, but followed his lead smoothly, intertwining his long fingers through blonde hairs. After a long, innocent yet very affectionate kiss, Tony’s mouth opened for him, and Steve bit down at his bottom lip, harder enough to make him yelp, before sliding inside with his tongue, swallowing the delightful sigh.

They separated only for the time of a breath, diving back in the second after. That time though, Steve’s hands went down and insideTony’s pants, to take a full handful of his gorgeous ass, earning another pleasant moan that escaped the Omega’s wide opened lips.

Steve felt the familiar fabric of his mate’s underwear, he stroked the fancy, delicate lacy and Tony kneed when the Alpha squeezed him tighter, kneading at the hot flesh of his ass. “I did miss you,” the Alpha let out in a growl, lifting him up with one quick jerk.

“Me too, Alpha” Tony answered out of breath, panting heavily, his legs going around Steve’s waist automatically and a rush of wet coating his tights.

Steve rubbed noses with the sweet Omega in a fond motion, waiting for Tony’s lungs to fill with some air again, and when he rumbled in his ear, he felt his mate melting against his body, purring until the Alpha bent to devour him again.

“Sweet, perfect Omega,” he murmured, nuzzling at Tony’s cheek, squeezing his ass, while his mate got to work on his neck, nibbling and licking to the soft spot. Steve rocked his hips, pressing against Tony’s own hard flesh, and they both moaned loudly, like two horny teenagers that couldn’t control their instincts.

“You smell incredibly, I can feel how wet you are for me-”

“Dad, Pops! Are you coming?” Peter’s voice made them groan and growl in disapproval, but Tony didn’t stop leaving a trail of warm kisses up to his jaw, purring louder to keep the Alpha’s focus all for himself.

“Settle,” Steve forced the word out, his hands leaving their favorite place to land on Tony’s hips.

“Alpha,” he whined, but doing as his Alpha commanded, pressing his forehead against Steve’s shoulder. They both huffed and sighed, but there weren’t much they could do.

“It’s still very early,” Tony commented, exhaling again, while Steve strolled toward the kitchen, carrying the Omega with him. “There are high chances they’ll be asleep again for a couple more hours, if we can stuff them with as many pancakes as possible.”

“They aren’t turkeys, you know?” Steve smiled, sniffing Tony’s scent. God, it was a mix of love and sex, and he wanted nothing more than biting him.

“Oh, I know, but I also know they got your appetite. That’s tons of eggs, flour and milk,”

“And chocolate chips,” the Alpha added in agreement, before stopping to walk.

Tony raised his head and looked confused at the sudden halt, but all Steve could see were his red, swollen lips that he couldn’t wait to taste again, and again, and again.

“We’ll feed them, and then I will have my own breakfast,” he said suggestively, having no doubts Tony would’ve taken the hint. In fact, his Omega looked very interested, even as he tried to maintain a straight face.

“Well, what are you’re going to have, Captain?” He asked, with a voice as tempting as the fully kissable mouth that formed the words.

“You,” he said hoarsely, more of a growl than anything. “Pretty Omega, I’m gonna eat you out so well you’ll forget what day it is.”

Tony jumped, his mouth falling open on a gasp, and Steve took advantage of it, shoving his tongue past his lips, digging his fingers into his hips to keep him still, in a possessive streak.

“Let’s- Let’s make children… I mean food, let’s make it. Oh god, let’s make it,” and really, there weren’t anything more lovely than a flustered, rambling, mind blown Tony. Steve was finally at home.

[allofthefeelings]

Hi. I forgot that sad endings exist, and now, I'm scared stupid after your last BW movie post. She's dead already! I want something close to happy! (Oh god, I hope the fanfics come through 😭😭😭)

(Before I begin, I would also like you to know that, while this is over 4000 words long, I did cut a several-paragraphs-long digression comparing the BW movie to Beauty and the Beast: The Enchanted Christmas. You’re welcome.)

I know I’m once again outing myself as an optimist here, and I’m sure I’ll also end up getting smug asks in four months when much of my speculation is wrong, but what the hell. If I was on this tumblr to be right I would have made a LOT of different decisions.

So.

I really, truly don’t think we’re going to get a sad ending.

But the question is, how does it achieve a not-sad ending? Or, to completely re-frame and re-structure: for a character like Natasha, what exactly is a happy ending?

Buckle in, because this gets long.

I think we can all agree that, by definition, we’re starting the movie from a point of melancholy at best, just because we know that in 2023 Natasha will be dead. She doesn’t get to ride into the sunset in any way, shape, or form. Every other solo movie- even the ones with tragic endings, like Thor Ragnarok’s destruction of Asgard and a large portion of its people- have given characters a path forward and the odds that even if this won’t give them a happy ending, it gives them a way towards one. It ends with hope. There isn’t room for that here, for obvious reasons. But what there is room for- and this is, ironically, achievable because of one of the major flaws of IW- is the idea that she did achieve growth, and then had six years to live the life she wanted.

Or, not the life she WANTED, which probably would not have been one part on the run/five parts half of society obliterated by Thanos. Let’s say she had the chance to live a terrible life self-actualized.

IW’s complete and utter lack of meaningful characterization for 90% of the cast means that we don’t really have a sense of where Natasha was in that movie. That gives a lot of room to play with, to put Natasha at the end of the BW movie in a place that she wants to be in. In other words, they can retroactively argue that the reason Natasha isn’t given room to grow in IW is that she had achieved her growth in between CW and IW.

Which, look. Doylistically this is beyond bullshit. Doylistically this is actually offensive, and if they’re looking to retroactively placate us about how Natasha’s arc went, it really doesn’t work. I’m not talking about what was intended, or what was achieved; I don’t think this is either of those. I’m talking about what we can choose to read into it.

And, frankly, as a Natasha fan, that’s pretty much all we do anyway. I can argue (and clearly have argued) her arc for ages, but that’s all the work I’ve done, and you (collective, Natasha fans) have done- not the work the text has done.

None of this is remotely answering the question. But I think it’s necessary groundwork to begin to answer the question.

Because what the BW movie can give us is that growth arc that takes place in the negative spaces of canon.

Well, first of all, the BW movie gives us the fact that things happen at all in the negative spaces of canon. I know I’ve discussed this already, but it’s worth mentioning again: the way audiences are supposed to read texts is that everything pertinent happens on screen. Even supplemental texts that are considered canonical (cut scenes, novelizations, official tie-in comics, movie scripts) are deemed inherently less valuable because they aren’t on the screen. This movie affirms that important events are happening off-screen, to everyone- or at least everyone who isn’t front and center.

This is, again, infuriating, and I feel like when I say this I’m inadveretently contributing to justification. That is not my intention. Natasha’s growth should have been on screen and should have been seen as important. I hate that it’s reduced to a single movie after ten years and the character’s death. I don’t think this justifies it. AT THE SAME TIME, I think this opens space for us to look at lots of characters who haven’t gotten the screen time they deserved.

(Like, they may never give Rhodey the movie he deserves, but at least no one can tell us that if he did something worth seeing it would have been on screen. This movie’s existence is a rebuttal of that. This is a digression but one I’m gonna keep making until everyone starts casually referring to awesome shit Rhodey did off-screen because WHY THE FUCK NOT, YOU CAN’T PROVE IT DIDN’T HAPPEN, “IT DIDN’T HAPPEN ON SCREEN” IS NO LONGER PROOF OF ANYTHING EXCEPT THEY HAVEN’T DONE THE SET-IN-THE-PAST MOVIE YET. Y E T.)

But we also get the possibility of growth, and to analyze what growth means for Natasha’s character.

So here is an issue: I can tell you, with a frankly absurd amount of confidence, what I read Natasha’s arc as. I can lay it out from film to film, I can point to key growth moments, I can read a lot into every scrap that made it into the final cut and I can tell you exactly why, and I feel like if you dig into my history you’re going to find a lot of me citing specific scenes to make my point so I’m not going to go too in-depth on an already-long post that is getting exponentially longer. I think that Natasha’s key arc is in figuring out who she is and what she needs, and how to be a person rather than a reflection of what is asked of her. I think that the mirror imagery in the trailer and in the SDCC/D23 BW footage lends credence to this being a key theme of the movie.

But I have absolutely no idea if I’m right, because the MCU has never considered Natasha to be important enough to be the focus, and as a result I read her arc mostly through the ways she mirrors other characters’ stories, usually to show their strengths by comparison. I do my best to make arguments that are textually supported, but at the same time, it’s like describing the sun entirely from the way that its light reflects off the moon.

So I can say that for the BW movie to be satisfying, it needs to offer completion to her arc, which is then capped in IW/Endgame but would have reached its climax in the BW movie. But since I cannot confidently tell you what her arc has been so far, I can’t figure out exactly how that arc could be satisfactorily completed. Which means, after SEEING the movie, I will have to retroactively figure out how they saw her arc, and then figure out if this was a satisfactory way to end it.

But an argument done in hindsight is colored by what I’ve already seen, and that’s a cheat. So let’s start over.

Here is what we know:

Natasha was taken from her family very young (Endgame: didn’t know her father’s name). As a child, she was abused and manipulated by the Red Room (Agent Carter; Age of Ultron). She was trained to be a Black Widow, did terrible shit for them for a while, defected, became a mercenary, did terrible shit for the highest bidder (Avengers). Clint was sent to kill her but made a different call and brought her in to SHIELD (Avengers). Natasha quickly rose in the ranks and became one half of a STRIKE team watched over by Fury’s right-hand man, Coulson (Avengers). Natasha also became very close with Nick Fury, the head of SHIELD (IM2, Cap2). At some point in there she was shot by the Winter Soldier (Cap2). She was one of the people behind putting together the Avengers Initiative, identifying Tony Stark as not qualified (IM2), and recruited into the team herself (Avengers). She did not leave the Avengers teams for the next 11 years; she was on the first iteration (lasting through Age of Ultron), the second (Age of Ultron through Civil War), and then the Secret Avengers (which we can now assume starts post-BW through Infinity War) and Avengers 3.0 (five-year gap team), as well as the Quantum Realm Team-Up Team right up til she got yeeted off Vormir.

We’ll set Secret Avengers and Team 3.0 aside for the moment, as they’re things that will exist post-BW movie canon.

Natasha’s narrative role has often been to be so amazing that when she’s bested, we know the other person is really good. The best way for me to pull this together into a coherent throughline is that Natasha tends to be bested by people with passion and emotional stakes. When Natasha is just doing her job, but Pepper cares about Tony or the Dora Milaje care about T’Challa, she is outmatched. In Cap2, when Natasha cares deeply about SHIELD and who she’s loyal to, she is able to outmatch everyone she faces, but since she’s a secondary character and her act isn’t as highly visible on screen, her heroism isn’t as spotlighted.

(That said, make no mistake, WE WILL BE COMING BACK TO HER HEROIC MOVE IN THIS MOVIE.)

Her role has also been, as I mentioned earlier, to be a mirror to the white male heroes. She mirrors Tony in IM2, Clint in Avengers, Steve in Cap2, and Bruce in Ultron. I can make a strong argument, that I feel is supported by each text, that each of these mirrors is about moderation, and both the white man of choice and Natasha finding that the ideal is somewhere between both points: the space between how and why Tony and Natasha handle secrecy; between how Clint and Natasha handle guilt; between how Steve and Natasha handle trust; between how Bruce and Natasha handle self-hatred. That the writers and directors often disagree with my read of this does not, in any way, dissuade me from believing it, but it does mean that this may not be the arc we’re looking at in the movie.

By the arcs that I’ve traced, though, they have a fair amount of leeway to give a satisfying conclusion no matter what the plot is. By having other characters mirroring Natasha, she is centered in a way she never had been, and simply being the protagonist of her own story is part of Natasha’s journey we haven’t seen. We know that this is going to in some way revisit the Red Room, and that means that we’ll get to see a story where Natasha is passionate about and personally connected to what she’s fighting. We also know that whatever the story is, it will not be Natasha mediating someone else’s approach to the world, but Natasha’s approach to the world with someone else (I’m guessing Yelena?) mediating her worldview, in a way that gives Natasha growth but does not undercut her as someone who had so much to learn from the REAL hero.

All plot to the side, simply because Natasha is the protagonist, there is an element of satisfaction inherent, both textually and metatextually, because Natasha’s role of being sidelined is both within the text and within the media landscape a struggle she’s finally able to overcome. There is also a metatextual satisfaction just in cleaning up the bits and pieces of canon that we’ve gotten that were left hanging. For example, in her heroic climax in Winter Soldier, Natasha- who was so focused on being able to transform into whatever was necessary- released a fuck-ton of national security information on the internet, including her own history, that made her both immutable and knowable. (Do you ever think about how this means that people living within the MCU know more about Natasha’s background than we, the audience, does? Because I do, c o n s t a n t l y.) Natasha went from working undercover and in the shadows to being an Avenger and releasing not just her own and not just SHIELD’s but also the Red Room’s dirty laundry in public, and that has never had narrative consequences; this is a great opportunity to use that, closing a loop that most people probably forgot even existed.

Speaking of closure.

I think this movie HAD to be designed with that specifically in mind. I don’t think they necessarily expected the backlash they got from Natasha’s death (I’m going to be honest here; I didn’t expect it from anyone but Natasha fans), but at least they had to know that people who had been promised Natasha would get her due in canon would be frustrated and want some sign that the complexity of the character that had been talked up for a decade was actually part of the story they put on film. Marvel wants to placate fans, yes, but they wouldn’t waste millions upon millions of dollars on a movie to get us to shut up; their job is to bring in money, and it’s not like they haven’t gotten ten years’ worth from us. They’re also savvy enough to know that for a character who’s no longer alive in canon, they need to do things that make their story relevant even without them having future appearances- and I think we’ll see that in Yelena and Taskmaster- but also to make this story have stakes.

Yeah, we never spend a Marvel movie saying “Oh geez, what if the hero dies?” (well, aside from Civil War, because comics oontext), but right now we’re going in knowing (or, bare minimum, thinking we know) exactly what happens to Natasha. Where she’ll end up just under two years from when the story starts is set in stone (NO PUN INTENDED). So we need another way to give the story stakes. Natasha’s life and her future aren’t up in the air. Her past is, I guess, but they’ve been clear this movie isn’t about her past. And where that leaves us is the emotional journey. I outlined above what I think that is, but it doesn’t have to be that to be satisfying- it just has to be some way to leave Natasha changed in a way that surprises us as audience.

And, sure, that could be loss- that could be betrayal from everyone in this movie, leaving her alone and with no one to turn to but the Avengers- but I don’t think that is. I think that’s looking at Natasha’s story like she’s still a secondary character, rather than the protagonist. The basic structure of a superhero movie (and specifically a Marvel movie) is that the protagonist suffers defeat but ultimately triumphs, internally if not externally, having learned something that takes them farther on their emotional journey. Since (as far as we )know this is the only movie Nat’s getting- she’s not getting a trilogy or a Dis+ show- this needs to take her farther than most single-protagonist movies have.

In terms of another kind of closure: If the movie doesn’t offer at least a hint of a way Nat could come back (and I’m still hoping for that no matter how unlikely it is, and if it doesn’t happen I’m hoping for it in the Dr Strange sequel, and after that I’m sure I’ll find another path), I think there’s an excellent chance the post-credits scene will be a funeral for her. Given that they have SebStan and Mackie and Emily Van Camp shooting together right now, it would be very easy to at the VERY least get us a scene of them mourning her. It’s not the same as Tony’s giant lakehouse memorial, but it’s about half the characters who were close to her when she was alive (the others being Clint, Maria, and Fury, and I’m pretty sure they could have put an hour of time on the FFH set to the latter two having five seconds of looking solemn). I think that, given the backlash to Endgame, they need something like this: we need to see, on screen, conclusive proof that Natasha’s life mattered, not just for the audience, but for the world she lived in.

My dream would be for the entire movie to use a frame story OF her funeral- people talking about her, different memories and different understandings, that combine in different ways to collectively show a whole. Fucking Rashomon that shit. But we all know they’re not going to do that.

I recognize I am still talking satisfying and not happy.

But what exactly is happy? What exactly is the happy ending Natasha might want?

She’s not a character who wants to retire or settle down somewhere. As much as we in the audience talk about wanting her to get a break, we’ve never seen that from her, and we also don’t see a world that could really offer that to her; especially post-Cap2, Natasha does not have the luxury of escaping her past even if she did want to.

We don’t know her goals. We don’t know what she wanted outside of making amends for her past. We’ve gotten that from almost every other character- say what you want about Steve’s Endgame ending (god knows I have), or about Bruce being a public figure that kids love, but at least there was groundwork laid for it.

i think the best argument we have for what makes Natasha happy is in Civil War, when it’s taken away. Natasha is willing to give up things that are important to her (her autonomy) in favor of not losing her team; being together is the priority for her. By the end of Civil War, she’s lost even that; she’s seen to have betrayed her entire team and has no one. By IW we know that she re-finds her group, that she and Steve and Sam and Wanda are a tightly-knit unit, but we have to piece it together ourselves, and we have no way to know that it’s by choice rather than necessity. (The BW trailer is really the first time we get evidence that Natasha has more resources than just the Avengers or SHIELD; even fic has tended to just posit she has empty safehouses, not living people she can go to.) The BW movie could give her that team, and retroactively make her appearance in IW a reward for her- having found the team she wanted- rather than just the natural place for her to end up.

But I can’t see how that would even work without at least some of Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, and Elizabeth Olsen appearing in this movie and showing on screen that Natasha has her people. We haven’t seen evidence they aren’t, but at least I haven’t heard any rumors they are, the way we’ve heard rumors about RDJ.

And there’s something awful, to me, in Natasha constantly being supporting in other people’s movies, which exist to seem self-contained even if they’re not, but then in her movie her emotional fulfillment relying on things that happen elsewhere- the implication that her emotional arc can’t even support a single movie.

In terms of what we’ve seen achieved, Natasha seems happiest when she’s solving a problem, when she’s fighting and winning and being the hero she doesn’t quite believe she is. But that’s not something that can be an end to an arc, of a decade or even of two hours. No matter how great that is, it’s a momentary thing, and it’s fleeting. That’s happiness but not narratively satisfying

This remains not an answer to the original questions.

I think part of the issue is, it’s not necessarily that we need Natasha to be happy, for her to have a happy ending. It’s that we, the audience, wants to be happy- and frankly, I don’t think that’s unreasonable; we’re not going to blockbusters to have our hearts torn out (and I think that after Endgame especially, Natasha fans are not ready or willing to do that again). And so we’re looking less at how Natasha can be happy, but how we can be happy. Selfishly, I’d even add: how we can be happy without doing the work. How we can be happy without conspiracy-theorizing our way to a satisfying narrative, but rather, a narrative that’s already on the screen, that we can just roll around in and enjoy.

I realize how bizarre this is to say after 3000+ words, but: I want the opportunity to be a lazy viewer. I want the chance to take things in without having to take responsibility for making them into something I want to see. I don’t want to have to reverse-engineer her story; I want to dig into the minutiae that is maybe actually intended.

On some level, that’s going to be the happy ending for me. Just having a whole text to dive into is a gift. (I am probably monkey-pawing myself just by saying this, which is the same kind of bullshit I argued for Age of Ultron- but then, I still can rewatch Ultron and find a lot that I like.) And Natasha getting a narrative win- which, as protagonist, she kind of has to- will be a happy ending for me.

But I’m a Natasha fan. This is expected.

What I think is the real question under all of this- what I’ve been struggling to tease out from my own feelings, and maybe now I’m finally getting to it- is a different question entirely: how can Marvel craft a story that sticks with their formula of giving a protagonist a win and something like a happy ending, while telling a story about a character who has been sidelined for ten years until they killed her off? Setting aside those of us who are overly invested in Natasha’s arc, what is the path to telling a story that the majority of the audience- most of whom haven’t traced her history, many of whom are casual fans, some of whom probably didn’t even see Endgame- finds fulfilling and happy?

The hero has to win, obviously. The hero has to triumph. Natasha has to come away having saved the world (stopping a villain from destruction), her world (protecting those close to her), and her internal world (some kind of emotional progress/catharsis). There will be moments intended for the audience to cheer. That’s a formula that you can find in nearly every superhero movie, and with good reason; I can’t think of why it wouldn’t apply here.

So looping back around, the question about the sad ending really is just for those of us who are deeply engaged. It’s not “will Natasha triumph?” because yes, she will- of course she will. We are going to get a movie where the world will be saved by Natasha (which has happened before) and the text will acknowledge that (which it really has not). The real question at hand is “will Natasha’s triumph be enough to mitigate the substantial losses she’s had in the other movies, or will it be bittersweet, her success here just underscoring the way that her biggest narrative win was to kill herself for no recognition?”

Which, of course, on some level, will vary from audience member to audience member. But I think that, with the awareness of how Endgame worked, and the knowledge of exactly when this movie is coming out, they have to at least try to give her- and us- this.

It’s now 5:15 AM and this is over 4000 words long and if you’ve read all this you deserve a medal. I’m happy to clarify or expand on anything in a few hours when I get up; I know that I circled a few points rather than clearly making them, but I’m no longer even completely sure what is common knowledge and what is me projecting. Hopefully this can at least start a conversation?

ETA: And anon, I am sure no matter what happens, fanfic will have our backs.

[kpopfanfictrash]

A Moment of Weakness

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Creative Content Contributor: @baebae-goodnight (hey ily)

Pairing: You / Jimin

Rating: PG-13 [ fluff + enemies to lovers!AU + Hogwarts!AU ]

Word Count: 2,557

Summary:  A series of drabbles about Slytherin!Jimin and Hufflepuff!Y/N, the sister of his self-declared mortal enemy.

A/N: These drabbles are non-sequential.

It has been several weeks since the Yule Ball.

After your confrontation with Jimin, you did not stay at the party for long. Taehyung realized something was off as soon as you returned to him; although to be fair, it would have been hard not to notice. There was obviously something on your mind and that something was clearly not Taehyung. He was sweet about it, even if you did not feel you deserved it.

He laughed when you said as much to him. “Y/N,” he grinned, pulling you into a hug. This was while you were still at the ball and you stiffened, unsure who else had seen. “I didn’t ask you here to get lucky, or anything. I asked you here because I thought it would be fun, okay?”

“Yeah,” you sniffed, pulling away. “Okay.”

Taehyung shrugged. “I’d like to be friends, if you do.”

You did, and you said this to him, but you knew Taehyung was disappointed – no matter how well he hid it. There were reasons he asked you to the dance and you knew those reasons were not entirely platonic. The thought made your heart hurt, but not as much as those three tiny words from Park Jimin’s lips. I don’t care.

Ironic, that it took Jimin telling you he did not care for you to admit that you did. Because you do; you care for Jimin. Fuck, it would be impossible not to. Maybe you did not at first. Maybe you did not when this all began and maybe you didn’t even somewhere in the middle. Except – maybe even that is a lie.

In your first year at Hogwarts, you remember feeling lost. Lucas and you had been close growing up, but a twelve-year-old boy wants little to do with his eleven-year-old sister. Before you made friends in Hufflepuff, you were lonely – plain and simple.

Even then, you remember Jimin. Your brother hated him for reasons which were never fully revealed to you. There were rumors of a girl they both liked, Jimin hexing Lucas once on a dare, Lucas beating Jimin the first Quidditch game they played. You did not know what the true reason was – only that it existed, and that the only time Lucas ever spoke to you was to shield you from Jimin.

Whenever you found yourself near the blonde Slytherin boy, Lucas would barrel out of nowhere and frantically shoo you away. It was uncanny, as though he had a sixth sense for your proximity. You never understood why, even back then. Jimin seemed harmless enough. Indeed, you saw much of yourself in the quiet, Slytherin boy.

As time passed and the years went on, Jimin ceased to be lonely and so did you. Instead, he became insufferable, just as he was to Lucas – always hanging around you, smirking and teasing with a big grin on his face. Despite this, you never hated him. Jimin was never malicious in his presence, never mean and in your mind, you always saw him as that quiet, smaller boy your brother liked to pick on.

This was around the time Lucas stopped being a jackass. He hung out with you more, welcomed you into his friend group. You found your own friends in Hufflepuff and stopped paying attention to Jimin. Indeed, you nearly forgot all about him – until that day on the lawn with the Novifusilli spell.

With a deep sort of sigh, you lower your chin to your hands to stare at the door. The toilet you sit upon is dark, far removed from the main hall – which is why you chose this particular location. You do not need to use the bathroom, just need a space to breathe and reflect before joining the others for lunch.

Since the Yule Ball, you have not been able to stop thinking about Jimin. Little memories keep coming back to you, unbidden and it is becoming harder and harder to deny what you had.

You keep remembering random moments. The day Jimin helped you to ride a broomstick for the first time. The night he taught you forbidden spells in the back of the library – you accidentally punched him in the nose with an overeager flick of your wand and, rather than fume, Jimin cracked up to tackle you down to the floor. He kissed you like that, pinning your hands overhead and you were half-laughing, half-moaning when he thrust deeply inside you.

Hissing, you squeeze your eyes shut and attempt to dislodge the memory. It is hopeless to think about because, even if it weren’t for Lucas, you still royally fucked up. You were the one who told Jimin what you were, over and over again. You were the one who pushed him away, told him it was just sex and when he walked away from you at the ball, you felt it was for good.

Biting down on your lip, you try not to cry – as the bathroom door slams open, hitting the wall. You jerk upright, drawing your legs closer and wishing you could melt into the floor. Fuck, how embarrassing would it be to be caught crying in the stall.

“Honestly!” a shrill voice laughs. You recognize it to be Susie Larkin, a Gryffindor you cannot stand. “What do they all see in her, anyways? For the life of me, I’ll never understand how she got Taehyung to take her to the Yule Ball.”

Stomach sinking like lead, you realize she is talking about you. Sitting up straighter, you stare at the door.

“Do you really not know, Suze?” teases an unfamiliar voice. Probably one of Susie’s friends. “It rhymes with snow job. I hear Y/N gives out a lot of them.”

Susie cracks up, snorting in between laughs while your cheeks start to burn.

“Oh, sure,” Susie gasps. You hear the clatter of makeup dropped on the counter. “Honestly, was Jimin not enough for her? Weren’t they fucking?”

“Were they?” the other girl muses. “Seriuosly, I can’t keep track.”

“I think that they were,” responds Susie conspiratorially, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Molly Jordan says she saw Y/N coming out of the exact same classroom minutes after Jimin did, a few months back. It was pre-tty obvious what they were doing in there.”

“Really?” Her friend sounds shocked. “Doesn’t her brother hate Jimin, though?”

“Beats me. Girl can’t close her legs to save her life, I guess.”

At this, you stand up and bang open the door.

Susie’s mouth drops, comical in her shock. Her skin turns an ugly shade of puce, recognizing you in the mirror while her lipstick clatters into the sink. Her friend – definitely unfamiliar – stands equally startled, her mouth dropped open in a small, perfect o.

“Shut your mouth, you look like a fish,” you snap at her. Striding forward, you stop when you stand toe-to-toe against Susie. “And you,” you seethe, glowering. “Go and fuck yourself. Stop blaming me for the fact that no one else wants to!”

With a huff, you turn around and stride fast from the room. The crush of students outside is unnerving, deafening after being alone for so long. Blinking several times, you feel your eyes start to burn. Turning abruptly, you plunge into the sea of people and let yourself be pulled along. Barely do you know what you are doing, nor where your two feet are headed. All you know is that you need to be as far away from that bathroom – and Susie – as possible.

You are moving so quickly; you do not look up when you round the next corner and barrel straight into the chest of someone wearing black and green robes.

“Oof!” gasps Jimin, stumbling into you. Righting himself, he freezes in place with both hands on your arms. The two of you have not spoken since the ball. “I – hey, uh. Oh,” Jimin fumbles, squinting to get a better look at your face. “Wait. Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“I – nothing,” you breathe, moving to duck past but Jimin does not move. His grip on you tightens, forcing you to look up at his face. Now, the tears start to fall free, running down your cheeks in hot, embarrassing waves.

He takes one look and shakes his head, grabbing your wrist to tug you backwards. “Come on,” he exhales, shoving into the crowd. Jimin moves easily, glaring at anyone in his way until they back down.

You allow yourself to be pulled until you arrive at a plain, wooden door. Jimin opens this quickly, ushering you forward and you find yourself in an empty classroom, reminiscent of the ones you two used to hook up in. The thought makes your cheeks heat, remembering the words Susie said about you in the bathroom.

Before you can stop yourself, the tears are spilling over and now you are standing before Jimin, crying your eyes out. You know that you shouldn’t. He is not the comforting type and besides, you do not deserve to be comforted by him, anyways.

“Hey,” he murmurs, leaving his stance to quickly cross over the room. For a moment, Jimin hovers, uncertain before he gives in. “Come here,” Jimin exhales, taking your arms.

He pulls you foward, wrapping both arms around you as you bury your face in his chest. Breathing him in, you lose yourself in his familiar scent. It is hard to reign it in, now that you have started. You cannot help but think about how badly you needed this. Needed him.

No – what you need to do is calm down, you tell yourself. You need to stop crying.

It does not matter what someone like Susie thinks about you, after all. It matters what Jimin thinks, though. You do not want him to think about you like that – like he meant less to you than he did to you. Although, you have not even told him the truth of what he means to you.

Tightening your arms about his waist, you let Jimin hold you like that. Again, you should not – for a variety of reasons. First and foremost, is how shitty you treated Jimin at the ball. You do not deserve to be comforted by him after that. Still, Jimin’s chest is so warm, his breathing so steady that you keep trying to match his in order to calm yourself down. Jimin’s hand slides up and down your back, rubbing your body and keeping you close.

As your eyes drift shut, you allow yourself one final moment of weakness. Once the tears have stopped though, once they have all dried against the black of his robe, you pry your eyes open. Jimin does not pull away yet and so, finally, you force yourself to.

He simply looks down, assessing you. “What happened?” he asks, referring to the scene in the hall.

There is steel to his tone; it laces his words, as though the thought of someone hurting you is unpardonable. The sentiment makes your heart twist. “Nothing,” you respond, quickly extracting yourself. “I’m – I’m sorry. Nothing I can’t handle, anyways. I know you aren’t…”

Jimin arches a brow, watching you trail off into silence. “Yes?” he prompts. “I’m not what, exactly?”

Heart pounding, it echoes the pulse in your head. There is so much you should say to him, but now that you are here, all you can think about is one thing. 

“What did you mean at the ball?” you blurt.

Jimin stares back at you, utterly thrown. “Huh?”

“What did you mean?” you repeat, taking a step closer. Jimin is not much taller than you are; his nose is only inches away. “At the ball – you said that if I had to ask, you didn’t care. What did you mean by that?”

Jimin stares at you for a long moment, clearly warring with some inner conflict. Eventually, a side wins out and he sighs. “I meant…” Jimin pauses, weighing his next words. “I meant that if you had to ask who should’ve taken you to the ball, I shouldn’t... care about you.”

Before you can respond, he slips his hand into yours. You glance down, staring when he raises them both to his lips. Gently, Jimin brushes a kiss to your palm. Although you have been intimate with him before, although you have been naked, moaning and felt him inside you – never have you felt more vulnerable than you do right now.

“Who,” you whisper, unable to tear your gaze away from his lips. “Who should have been the one taking me, then?”

Jimin gives a small, bitter smile. “Me.”

The word hangs between you, stark and simple – much like Jimin himself. When you first began hooking up, you remember liking that about him. You still like that about him. God, you more than like that about him and now, you are realizing it all too late.

Jimin wanted to be your date to the Yule Ball and instead, you took Taehyung. You did not even give Jimin a chance to ask you. Everything seems twenty-twenty in hindsight and now, you are all too aware of how foolish you were.

You should correct Jimin, you think. You should tell him that even if you did not ask him, you were thinking about him the whole night. That you have been thinking about him ever since but, as you move to utter the worlds, Jimin interrupts.

“I like you, Y/N,” he insists, still holding your hand. As though emboldened by this, Jimin straightens. “I know that’s not what you want. You were pretty clear about that from the start,” he observes, smiling weakly. “I’m sorry that I dragged my feelings into this. I don’t… I guess what I’m saying is I don’t think we should hook up anymore,” he finishes, firm.

The light in the classroom is dimming. Outside, the sun has just begun to set over the horizon. It casts Jimin in a radiant light; your heart aches just to look at him.

“I – you don’t?” you respond, uncertain. If Jimin does not want to see you anymore, then perhaps your original thought was right – it is too late to confess.

Jimin inhales, glancing down. “I can’t keep on pretending,” he mutters, hoarse. “I don’t want to keep on pretending. I think we should end this now. Besides,” he pauses, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “What would your brother think if he saw us, like this?”

The silence which greets him while you fumble for a response seems to be all the confirmation Jimin needs.

“You see?” he exhales, arching a brow.

“But,” you start to protest, as Jimin shakes his head.

Gently, he slides both hands up your arms. “I,” Jimin exhales, closing his eyes. “Thank you for… everything, Y/N.”

Bending forward, he kisses you. The gesture is sweet, achingly so. Barley is there time for you to wrap your mind around it before his lips part yours in the gentlest of touches. It makes your head spin, hands reaching out for his robe, but he is already withdrawing, pulling away.

Jimin stares blankly at you, chest rising and falling. He swallows hard at your expression, forcing himself to respond, “You’re okay… right?”

For a moment, you are tempted to say no. For a moment, you are tempted to ask how – without Jimin, how can you be okay? Then, you realize he means from before. Jimin is referring to the crying, sodden mess he ran into in the hallway.

“I – yeah,” you exhale, licking your lips. They remain stubbornly dry. “I’ll be fine.”

Jimin stares at you a moment longer before he nods, turning around to walk out the door.

The room feels empty, near-suffocating without him.

A/N: [ Master List ]

© kpopfanfictrash, 2019. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[coldtomyflash]

What do you think of Dick's portrayal in the various tv and movie adaptations? I first saw him in Batman TAS and loved him from the start. But the reboot came around and Tim replaced him as deuteragonist. Also the fallout with his relationship with Barbara (which I once loved) got even worse in Batman Beyond (in which he never appeared on screen) and the comic with the Bruce/Barbara/baby storyline. In the end it was like the writers hated him and in recent movies he takes a back seat to Damian.

“various TV and movie adaptations”

... movie adaptations?

We haven’t seen Dick in a movie in like 20 years. Unless you mean DC’s animated films, like Justice League: War, and similar?

But okay, what an awesome question.

If you check out my previous post (here), you’ll discover quickly that pretty much one of my favourite portrayals of him is Young Justice. I thought they did an amazing job in Season 1 with showing the depth of him (and of most of the main characters honestly) and all the different layers he has in terms of identity, including with his friends, with the league, with leadership, and with Bruce. The time-skip from him being Robin to him being an adult, self-assured Nightwing was a bit of a letdown because that transition is messy, but the characterization was still great.

I also loved him in Batman TAS but I haven’t watched that in so long. Definitely what go me originally into superhero media (well okay I remember being 4 years old and watching the old live action Adam West Batman but like, does that count? I guess it has to, because Dick is straight up hilarious in that, but like, characterization wise idk what to even say about that version). Anyway in TAS we get that whole tension of Dick’s role and identity vis a vis being Batman’s sidekick and I’m really into that. That portrayal is probably like the foundation, stone number one, when it comes to understanding Dick Grayson.

As for Batman Beyond - okay I love Batman Beyond, really and truly, but tbh I kind of think of it like... an alt-universe, almost like a... fic. I think of it like someone’s Batman AU in which they created an OC as a protagonist. And I’m into it! But I don’t really connect it with the rest of the Batman or DC canon if I’m being honest. Terry is great, I adore him, he actually reminds me a lot of Dick, but yeah wtf is going on with the implied fallout between Bruce and Dick and Dick not even being in the show. Idk. Doesn’t count. Side-step that weird non-canon.

(I mean, fucking tell me they’re not basically writing Dick with a different name here.)

Don’t touch Bruce/Barbara. Stick your fingers in your ears and sing la la la la la la at the top of your lungs until it goes away. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200. Do not let DC continue until that storyline is wiped from the face of the earth.

As for the recent animated films, typically they’re not focused on Dick but they do a half-decent job with him. I do like the Son of Batman (or whatever it’s called) animated film where they introduce Damian to the plot; Dick is pretty good in that even though his role is more minor. I haven’t watched the one with Harley Quinn yet where she’s helping Bruce and Dick but I really want to, it looks like it has some potentially entertaining Dick content in there.

(except that hair. What did they do to my handsome boi?)

What I tend to like about the modern animated films is that they get the snark right? They have these people make fun of each other and themselves, they get to be deadpan, they take the comics storylines and bring them to life in bite-sized chunks that are easier to digest. They also tend to have awesome voice-acting. They’re very much designed for pre-existing comics fans and are light on exposition as well, which makes me a good target audience. So I don’t tend to get too annoyed with the characterization in any of them, in part because they’re often pulling directly from pretty good comics arcs.

So the comics - (whoo boy this is getting long!)

I am in the small and Unpopular camp of people who kind of liked the entire goddamn mess that had Dick’s identity revealed to the world in... was that New 52 Forever Evil? i think it was; I have it on my shelf. I mean - we got some of Bruce and Dick’s dynamic and how much Bruce cares for Dick, and I’m all about that, but it was also like a shockwave in the Batfam because holy shit.

That being said, I’m not sure how much I like the direction taken, with the spiral agents and all that. I mean - Dick is Nightwing. And while him going undercover or being a spiral agent is kind of fun, the inherent problem with the identity reveal that they can’t really take back is that he can’t be allowed to be Nightwing anymore. So in that sense I also really fucking hate it. 

And then Dick being Batman for a while when Bruce is off being Not Quite Dead? I like Dick and Damian’s dynamic (kind of) but again it seems like backtracking to me. The way I interpret Dick is so much as his own person that for him to put on the cowl feels... wrong. Like he specifically doesn’t want to be Batman? And it feels like this authorial obsession with Batman, and with their always being a Batman. Like - Gotham needs the Bat fam, not just the Bat man. Y’know? 

I don’t mind the recent focus on Damian, though I think my biggest issue with it is that it kind of felt for a while like “ah yes, Bruce has a true son now, time to give him all the narrative weight, who cares about the rest of these former Robins” and I wasn’t in to that. Which is nothing against Damian. 

(I want more batfam hugs! not just Damian! but also yes this is cute)

But the Batfam is only as interesting and their connections to each other, y’know? I’d love to see more focus on Tim, tbh, on Tim and Jason, on that whole mess and its resolution, on Jason and Dick, on Dick coming to terms with his family colours being passed down, on what it meant for him when Jason died, on what it meant for him when he met Tim. Let’s explore more of that in the movies and animated series, please!!

(I guess we get some of that in DC’s Titans? I hope so. I need to catch up. Dick so far seems complex and angry, which I’m into, but also like... Dick Grayson is a beacon of hope, okay. That’s who he is. A version of Dick that isn’t inherently trying to help and save everyone is kind of hard to wrap my head around. I’m not fully sure how I feel about him yet, but I do like the series).

Oh I totally forgot to talk about Teen Titans. I haven’t watched Teen Titans Go, but boy howdy did I love the original Teen Titans. I was just the right age when it came out to be the target audience and I very much enjoyed Robin in that series, at least as well as I can remember. And Lego Batman which is hilarious.

Okay that’s all for me now. I’ll go back to pretending I’m a Flash blog or something.

[chaoartwork]

Zimvoid: Issue 1

Genre: multiverse, adventure, comedy, friendship

Characters: 2k, Palindrome, the Zims

Rated: G (Mild Violence)

Summary:Two people, each in their own alternate universe and are both the same Irken named “Zim”, respond to an Irken distress signal that leads them to travel into a vortex located on one of Earth’s ocean. This causes them to be trapped in a planet filled with their thousand alternate selves called the Zimvoid.

Given the world providing no major equipments, along with their Girs destroyed, and the Zimvoid having a hierarchical society, no Zim can figure out how the Zimvoid came to be and how to get back home.

As a result, when two Zims end up bumping into each other, they decide to partner up in a resistance group, attempt to recruit more Zims and take down the leader of the Zimvoid in order to find the source of its origin and find a way to get back home.

Based entirely on the Invader Zim comic arc “Battlevoid” (Issue 46-49)

Previous: https://chaoartwork.tumblr.com/post/616874776757174272/zimvoid-prologue

Next:https://chaoartwork.tumblr.com/post/617973701687787520/zimvoid-issue-2

There were two light with one of them on and flashing red. A beeping sound was heard the moment the red light turned off and the other light turned on with a green color. Next to it was a huge metallic door that gently open to reveal the Zim guards in there. 501 was leading with the other guards behind the newcomer. He twitched his antenna as a signal to continue walking, which they did so. The newcomer could do nothing but walk along, his eyes stuck on the ground expressionless. He did however glance about for a short while to take a look at his new surroundings. Indeed it looked like he entered a prison. Somewhere as familiar as Mooping 10, one of the greatest prison to exist. But this one seems a bit more worn out. More people that look like him can be seen doing their business.

  A dragonfly-like Zim can be seen trying to change a lightbulb. He got electrocuted and fell on the ground. Few seconds later, he woke up, shook the pain off, and continued his duty. A pig-like Zim was seen playing with one of the buttons and glanced at a cell, watching it automatically swing open. In response, he looked down at a paper he was carrying and wrote it down. When finished, he went inside the cell to relax. It didn’t take long for another guard to notice and storm inside the cell. The pig let out a squeal as he was dragged out of the cell. Throwing him down, the guard angrily shouts about something towards him. The pig frowned. But he got up and continued doing his duty.

  The fish irken softly frowned in confusion.

“Heh!” One guard behind him smirked, “at least this one seems well behaved. Heck! He hasn’t even spoke since we revealed our identity to him!”

“I think it’s not only that,” 501 looked at them, “if anything, this is the quietest one we ever gotten. Tell me, 2002. What makes you quiet?”

2002 awkwardly gaze at him without a response.

“Too personal to answer, huh?” His eyebrow raised, “that’s fine,”  he turned his face away, “all Zims who are quiet do so for personal reasons.”

 The fish was taken back a bit by that comment and narrowed,

“N-no!”

501 looked back at him in slight curiosity,

“No?”

2002’s anger soften.

“I-I mean....it’s not like that! It’s just....why are you all weaker versions of me? That’s something I can’t digest!”

He made a shy pause.

“....if you can.”

  “Hmph,” 680 gave an unamused look, “softie.”

“I’m not a softie!” The newcomer snaps a bit.

“Now now 680,” the lead guard told him with patience, “our newbie here wants answers and that’s exactly what we’ll give him. now....BRING IN THE VISUAL AID ZIMS!!!”

“Uh 501?” One of the guards pointed, “didn't we just passed by them?”

The group halted and they turned behind the see they were at the right side of the hallway when they passed by them. They appear to be playing a handmade board game. The Zim with round swirly equipments was shaking his fist with a rattle sound coming from within it while the other Zim equipped with a drawn board watched impatiently.

“Come on come on, give me ladder, give me ladder!” He happily said

“Please don’t him ladder please don’t give him ladder,” the other Zim muttered.

 But right before the Swirly Zim would throw the dice, 501 shouted out,

“VISUAL AID ZIMS!”

They both flinched and turned to him, the swirly one ending up dropping the dice in the process. He couldn’t help but glance what he got.

“TWO DOTS!” The board one glance when he heard him happily explain, “LADDER FOR ME, SMELLY!”

 The board Zim sighed,

“I hate this game....”

501 snapped his fingers to get them to look again,

“Stop getting distracted and help another Zim here give a demonstration! And make sure you give a good impression, 1282!”

“Ugh. Fine,” he said as the two stood up and went to stand  in front of the newcomer.

 2002 watched with a blank expression as the Swirly one pulled out a Zim and voot cruiser puppet. He started off by looking as if the Zim puppet was in the cruiser and flying,

“Woooooooo! I am me! I responded to a distress signal and I’m now going through a strange vortex. Whhoooosh....”

There was awkward silence. The Swirly one nudges 1282. He sighs in response and starts the act,

“Zip-zap. Buzz buzz. I am the strange glowy device called the Zapper which is causing alternate universe to connect into one, yadda yadda yadda-“

“BOOOOSH!” The other Zim hits the puppets right onto his face.

  He then lets out a whistle sound as he moves the puppets lower and lower into the ground until they hit the ground with a “pwooooosssshh!!!”.

There were few seconds of pause. He happily looks at the Fish Zim.

“I am now stuck here for all eternity, the end!”

It became completely quiet. 2002 stared at the two for a while.

“That’s.....”

He softly points out.

“That was actually really good.”

He turns to 501,

“Can I see them do that again?”

The eyepatch Zim let out a chuckle,

“Heheheheheh-no. The visual aid Zims aren’t here just to entertain you all.”

“But I thought they were-“

“STOP INTERRUPTING!”

 The fish-hybrid Zim flinched and stiffened, now completely silent. The other one waited for few seconds.

“Good. Now,” he gestures to the two Zims, “as you have seen, this was you when you flew into this planet. You came out of one of the vortexes and as you were flying in, you crashed onto the Zapper, causing your ship to break down and crash onto this planet.”

“The Zapper?”

“The glowy stick thingy. You know, the one your ship hit that destroyed it? We call it the Zapper. It’s what’s what we believe to be sending signal to all the Zims from alternate universes and luring them to this void.”

  2002 blinked, his fin ears raising a bit by the two words he just said.

“Alternate....universes? Did you just say alternate universes?”

“That’s right, 2002,” he smirked a bit, “all of us come from different timelines. Different timelines that are caused by every little choice we made in our life, even if it’s even for a second. It doesn’t only have to be through our little choices either but the universe around. Some might even get their thing when they are born.”

2002 stayed quiet in confusion and awkwardness when he said “thing”. 501 noticed.

“A ‘thing’ is another word we use for ‘side effect’ or ‘variation’. For example: in my timeline, I thought it would be better to take samples from cows by myself rather than letting my Gir do it. Got hit in the eye and have been wearing this awesome patch since then. And there are others who’s outcomes are different. Like 1469 over there,”

He point to the Dragonfly Zim that 2002 saw earlier,

“In his timeline, he mutated a dragonfly that bit and infected him, causing him to be a hybrid of a dragonfly.”

He points to one Zim with a giant antennae,

“Or 1010, who tried to make himself big in order to destroy a city, but there was an accident that made his antenna massive instead. It may have increased his sense of hearing. But he has to be careful not to hear noises to loud for him. Otherwise, he’ll go deaf for a week.”

“I heard that,” 1010 turn to him and shouted out from a far distance.

501 turned back to him,

“Do you understand everything I have said, 2002?”

2002 hesitated.

“So....is that why every versions of me are different? Because of their different timeline? Wait....”

He thought about it.

“Are you saying you all came here just like me?”

501 smiled widely,

“BINGO! I knew you would get it right away!”

“Uh....thanks? I think?”

“Just like you,” he continued as he looked up to see different Zims in their cells looking down at them in curiosity, “we got an irken distress signal located at Urth’s Pandora’s Quadrangle. However, when we went through the vortex, we ended up getting hit by the Zapper, caused our ships to get completely destroyed, and ended up getting us trapped here. We however don’t know where the Zapper came from. But as far as we know by using our brilliant minds, we have researched to the point of understanding that the Zapper is responsible for the signals and vortexes.”

 He turns back to 2002.

“But unfortunately, long as there’s no available resources to fix our ships, we can be trapped in this void for all eternity.”

2002 remained quiet again. 680 laughed,

“501, I don’t think he understood a word you’re saying!”

“Hey it’s not like that!” The newcomer angrily looked at him, “it’s just hard to digest this whole information that’s all! Alternate universes, Zapper, things, they all sound like someone hit their own PAK. And it still doesn't explain why we have this thing on,” he held unto his collar as a gesture.

“Oh yes,” 501 nodded, “the collar, almost forgot to mention that. Well besides making sure we don’t confuse each other by the same name, the numbers actually represent a Zim’s rankings. As of right now, your ranking is number 2002. You are currently the lowest ranking Zim in all the Zimvoid. And unless a new Zim enters this void or you fight someone at the arena, you will remain to be so. You see 2002, when number 1, the highest ranking Zim and our leader, created this hierarchical society, he decided to give jobs for Zims 101-2002. And living in a world that has such limited resources, we need at least find some way to lengthen our fantastic existences.”

 “Of course, we Zims would prefer doing amazing complex things then doings such minor and ridiculous tasks. So in order make this society stable,” he walked towards him with a haunting smile, “Number 1 made a unique system that rings a unique word.

His haunting smile presses against the newcomers fish bowl-like helmet.

“ENSLAVEMENT....”

 2002 stared at 501 hauntingly staring at him that close for a long time. He eyes traces about awkwardly and then back to him.

“Do you....do this this to every newcomer?”

“Yes,” he remained in his position, “....and it never gets tiring.”

The Eyepatch Zim stayed there few seconds and finally pulled away.

“Anyhow! I guess that’s all you need to know for now. Zim guards,” he turns to the guards, “take him to his duty location.”

 “But sir,” one of them asked, “what kind of duty? The tasks are all full at this point.”

“Well make one up! The more tasks the better. While you two are doing so, I’ll check up to see how 2001 is coping with this world.”

He began to walk off when 2002 called out,

“Wait! You said that this Number 1 is the leader. Can I meet him? I need to know what’s really going on here and find some way to get back home.”

 “I’m afraid I can’t do that 2002,” he glanced at him, “only the Elite Zims can see him. You can’t just expect to see him that easily. If you really want to meet him, you would have to beat other Zims in a gladiatorial arena.”

“Gladi....wha?”

501 softly groans and rolled his eyes,

”it means you need to compete with other Zims.”

“What?” The fish irken gave a look as if he was speaking nonsense, “that’s crazy! I’m not gonna just go out there and start beating up alternate versions of myself!”

“It’s the only way but...” 501 shrugged and started to walk again, “your loss.”

2002 sighs,

“Can you at least tell me who he is and what he is like?”

“Well obviously he’s a Zim like all of us,” he shrugs, “what do you expect?”

 “That you would give me more details than that?”

501 sighs and fully turns back to him,

“Listen, Fish Head Zim-“

“Fish Head?” He looks somewhat confused and offended by that name.

“-If I knew, I would tell you, I would. The only thing I know is a rumor that Number 1 was able to defeat his Dib and conquer the Urth.”

He stiffened,

“He...destroyed his Dib?”

“Yup! Then again, it’s just a rumor. But I shouldn’t spend time telling you infos for several hours. You’ll learn more about the Zimvoid as you go about and do your duty. Anyhow, good luck!”

“Ok. But just to make it clear that I’m neither 2002 nor Fish Head Zim. I am Zim and Zim only!”

But the guard leader ignore him and have few seconds later left the room. The two guards held unto his shoulder, to which the new slave didn’t struggle out of them this time. Not like it would make much of a difference when this place has such high security.

“So 680,” one guard said, “what do you think will be good for him? Should we take him to the boiler room?”

2002’s heart sunk as he looked at the guard with a sense of fear on his eyes.

 “Nah,” 680 said, “that would be a pointless thing to do. With a ‘thing’ like that, his water can get cooked up and make him suffocate to death. And the last thing we need is for 501 to punish us over loosing a single slave.”

The Fish Zim then breathed out a sigh of relief. But he looked at the guard again when he asked,

“Then what do you think we should do with him?”

680 pondered for a while. Then his antennae raised when something clicked.

“Actually,” he gave out a menacing grin, “I got a better idea that he can cope with.”

He leaned over and whispered to him. His antennae raised as well and he made a deep chuckle,

“It’s perfect.”

They both gave a pesky smile towards the newcomer.

2002 stood stiff and blankly glance at each of them.

“.......Why are you staring at me like that?”

——————————————————————

A scrap and metal-made building with two floors rested on the hilltop of an unknown location that appears to be somewhere underground. The building seemed strong despite looking worn out. On the entrance, there was a stool that had a bucket filled with glass shards. Several in the bucket look to have been carefully drilled into a tiny hole and then tied into a string. The shards that were not in bucket were hung on the entrance door’s ceilings reflecting by any soft light that was in this dark area.

 Inside the house was one room that has somewhat old blankets, pencils, and more crumbled papers. There was some sticks on the walls the mark the days, and some drawn papers that look like like maps attached to lower walls. Some even being daily to-do list and few basically being free drawings. One can be a decent drawing of Gir, a Zapper, and the planet of the Zimvoid. The artist also made a drawing of Earth, but it’s on fire with an irken flag placed on the top of it.

 Outside was starting to get a bit lighter, due to the the light of dawn piercing through the cracks of the surface above. It slightly fills the room. In one large thick and worn-out blanket laying on the ground with few others, something softly moved underneath it, along with it making a soft grunting sound. A small being wiggled half his body out of the blanket and glanced out the window to notice the dawn’s softly hidden light. He let out a yawn and patted his cheeks.

“Ok ok ok, no time for unnecessary naps now,” he said himself in a slightly high pitched voice and completely slipped out the attempted crafted bed. He let out a short stretch, patted his cheek one last time, and softly ran out of the room.

 The figure then entered what seem like a working area. There were tons of maps on the wall thats almost low enough to reach the figure’s size. But because they can’t reach it, they went outside for a moment to grab a bucket out of a stool, put it down, and push the stool into the room. He pushed it against a wall and climbed up to take a map off it. He gets off, pushes the stool to a table and climbs onto it again in order for his viewpoint to reach the top of the table. He turns on a lamp that was doesn’t have a cover and it flickers on. He put the map down.

“Ok,” he grabs a marker nearby and pulls the tip out, “so from what I’m guessing, those hostile Zims seems to show up the most when it comes to markets. An incident usually happens when a random Zim is low on guard and they are alone. So if I can guess of where they might go to the most....”

He draws several small circles on parts of the location.

“It would usually be in the town’s alleys...yeah! I think that should work!”

He folds the map and put it in the storage of his PAK,

“I can start from there today and see how it goes this time!”

 He hopped off the stool and went to a storage box, opening it up and digging inside until he pulls out an irken gun.

“Now then,” he pats it confidently, “let’s see if this bad boy still has the sticky goo in him!”

He walked to an opened window and looks out to spot something to target. He might as well just target that cavern boulder over there. He goes and aim. He concentrates. Then pulls the trigger.

 A splat followed by a soft boom sound was heard, but nothing came out of it. The small figure grew confused and tried patting it to get it to work. When nothing still happened, he decided to look at the tip of it.

“Hm. The gangs shouldn’t have throw it against the wall that ba-“

Orange sticky goo spews out, while it still stuck onto the gun, to cover the entirety of the small irken’s face, causing him to muffle in panic. He topples unto ground and starts trying pull the goo off by using both his hands and feet.

 He tugs hard and hard as much as he could while he kept muffling. Then just as his lungs started to scream for air, the goo came off, but resulted in the gun flying off the window. The irken gasped and made few gulps of air until he heard a crash and splattering sound. He glanced at the sound and gets up to look out the window. There by the ground, the gun was nearly in pieces, with nothing but orange goo splattered around it. He continues to stare down for a while. He groans in frustration.

“Fine,” he walks back to the storage box, “rope it is then.”

He let half of his body bury into the box until he was able to pull out a curled up rope. He opened the storage opening on his PAK and put it in. He then grabbed something else from the table and hopped out of the stool one last time. He ran off and started running downstairs until it slowed into very quiet steps, noticing an opening in front of the end of the staircase that leads to a room. Within that room, someone can be heard snoring. The small figure’s walk turned into a tip toe the moment he reached the ground and did so carefully as he glanced to make sure the one inside the room doesn’t wake up.

As soon as he was far enough from that room, his fast pace began to pick up again and headed for the entrance. The small figure that revealed to be a smeet happily hopped out of the entrance and let his feet drag across the ground when he landed, making him go into a complete halt. He took a moment to have a view down below the hilltop, revealing to be a town. As the cavern started faintly lit up by the day, so did the voices down below. He took a deep breath, smiling in determination before he puts on what is reveal to be a goggle he was holding. Although it may seem big on him, he always made sure the goggle’s strap was tight enough for it to fit. The digits on the smeet’s own collar reflected a bit by the light to reveal his number:

||2000||

He was just about to launch off and run down the hill’s trail and head for the town when-

“Mmmmf!”

2000 halted by the muffling sound of someone behind him, who reveals to have an appearance of a baloney, his pink orbed eyes giving the only irken appearance. He had an irritated look toward the smeet,

“Mmph mmm mmmfhh?”

The smeet gave a short sigh and turned to him trying to smile.

“It’s fine, Meat. It’s just a quick errand. He won’t even notice I left.”

The baloney just continued giving an unamused glare at him,

“Mmmmf mmph...”

“Not if he sees I succeeded he won’t,” he crosses his arms confidently.

He was quiet this time, but still did not look convinced.

“Don’t worry,” 2000 gave a determined smile, “today will be different. I won’t fail this time. Just make sure not to tell him and you won’t regret it! Thanks!”

And for that, he rushes off in a flash that it was no use calling him back. Even if he heard, he wouldn’t listen anyways. The baloney Zim watches him disappear into the town. He rolls his eyes. He hops his way back into the building.