#just with changes to a lot of the story side

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 12: The One Where We Start Laying the Yellow Brick Road to Italy

I realized the other day that, even though I like to bounce around from place to place in the Lukola timeline, I probably needed to start tightening things up on the ship if I ever wanted to get to the end of the story. And, yes, dammit, this story better have a finale at some point because there’s nothing more annoying than an open-ended ending, particularly in the romance genre.

Today we’re going to take a quick jaunt over to Italy because –

NO! Not because Luke is allegedly filming there. If you’re into real-time stalking, you’re in the wrong blog. But, I’m sure there’s a Discord for that.

It’s because I’ve had several people ask for my opinion about the change in behavior between Luke and Nicola during their Day 1 interviews there. Wait – people are interested in my thoughts? Wow, that’s actually kind of nice. Thank you! Okay, back to what I was saying –

Was there a change in behavior when Luke and Nicola reached Italy? Yeah, actually, there kind of was.

By May 9, we had been gifted with a slew of material from Luke, Nicola, and the Bridgerton cast and, I must admit, those early interviews are some of the most entertaining of the tour. In the very beginning, Nicola appeared as the utmost professional – charming, intelligent, and witty at the right moments – and Luke played her likeable counterpart to “Book Colin” perfection – bouncing between being awkwardly boyish and wickedly roguish, all while looking at Nicola like she had just served him homemade peanut butter crumble.

The two of them together, playing off each other, in my opinion, was better than Bridgerton Season 3 (you cannot beat the World Tour being 99% Luke and Nicola, with only a few random side characters taking up screentime). There was some major “Electric Love” radiating from those two throughout the tour, but it seemed very much heightened in the beginning (probably because they hadn’t yet answered the same question 67 times). By the way, if you haven’t heard that song by Børns, go have a listen. It will, at the very least – hopefully – put you in an upbeat mood for the day.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes – was there a change in behavior between Luke and Nicola when they reached Italy?

Absolutely.

Do I know why?

Absolutely not.

Perhaps Luke was bent because someone spilled his coffee, or Nicola was upset because her stylist made her to wear that little silver bow in her hair. In my opinion, the most intriguing part of Day 1 of the Italy press junket was that Luke and Nicola struggled with answering the question, “What is love?” I swear they both babbled on like two kids in debate class who hadn’t bothered to read the material given to them before taking their respective podiums. They finally seemed to settle on Luke’s “Maybe it’s, like, connection.” Well, they seemed to be missing the “connection” that day.

Honestly, no one can explain their “don’t stand so close to me” vibe during those first day interviews except Luke and Nicola. But, we can at least have some fun and speculate about it with a bird’s eye view. At this point, you should know that I love spreading the puzzle pieces out and seeing how they might all connect. Most people – when putting a puzzle together – start with the side pieces, right? You’ll get my joke in a moment (I hope).

In March 2024 – I don’t know the specific date because my timeline is rather murky going back that far (I was unaware Lukola even existed!) – Luke traveled to Los Angeles for a photo spread with InStyle magazine. I’ve heard two versions of this story. The first being that Luke traveled to Los Angeles with Antonia alone; the second being that he traveled to Los Angeles with his friend group, which included Antonia. I couldn’t tell you which is true, and it really doesn’t matter because it doesn’t necessarily add or take away from today’s story.

Before I get started, I wanted to give a “hurrah” to The-One-Whose-Group-Chat-Fills-in-Lots-of-Missing-Bits-for-Me-Including-the-Part-Where-Video-Footage-of-Antonia-in-Los-Angeles-Seemed-to-Indicate-a-Celebrity-Was-Not-the-Videographer-and-There-Were-So-Many-British-Accents-in-the-Background-One-Would-Fancy-a-Guess-She-was-Traveling-with-a-Group.

Moving along…

On April 7, 2024, Antonia posted a series of photographs and clips to her Instagram grid indicating she had been in Los Angeles, including one where she was laying on a blanket in front of the Griffith Observatory and one where she was sitting at a table marked with the number “95.” On April 14, she posted a second set of photographs, tagging her location as Beverly Hills, California and using “End of Beginning” as her audio (yes, I side-eyed this choice of music so don’t feel bad if you did as well). The second photo dump included her lounging on a rooftop.

I’m not going to delve into posts made by Luke and Nicola during that timeframe. I mean, I’m sure Nicola’s comment, “’Friends’…sure Jan,” on Luke’s April 11 reshared post about Bridgerton Season 3 was only meant to be applicable to Polin. And, if Luke wanted to use yellow and black hearts to represent the colors Nicola and he were wearing in his April 12 post, that’s cool, too. And, I am definitely not going to speculate on Nicola’s April 15 post (for Big Mood) that Luke liked, and she captioned, “I will bite off anything that dangles.”

By April 21, Luke and Nicola were in Australia at the World Premiere of Bridgerton. I am only going to provide a quick overview of Australia instead of a full-fledged recital because, at some point, I will almost certainly dedicate an entry to this country. Let’s start with Luke pulling off the hottest walk-up in Netflix human history (I mean, have you watched it in slow motion?). Then, we had the hard launch of the handholding business (because why again?). And, we had Luke tripping over his words, “We’re very, like, giving…I’m not talking about those scenes…” Oh, and Nicola telling an interviewer that, “[y]ou can’t keep a good girl down,” and, in response, Luke’s lips curling into a wicked-ass Cheshire cat's. We had them in the garden, with Nicola bending down to hug Luke after she had scratched/hit/petted his head. Perhaps I should not mention the possibility of a man’s shirt being visible on a bed behind Nicola (I said possibility not that it was). And, Nicola telling Luke, “You’re the funnier one,” when he was concerned that perhaps Benedict was funnier than Colin. Then we had the “Nicola-in-the-green-dress” day where, as they were going down the steps, Luke seemed to instinctively reach for Nicola’s hand, but she played it cool and took his arm instead. Oh, and that entire “green dress” day in general (I mean, there was so much shit going on that day). And, best we do not forget Nicola saying, “the best foundation for love is friendship,” which mirrored the bracelet “someone…in Australia” gave Luke that read, “Do you believe the best foundation for love is friendship?” Because that’s not suspicious at all. Alright, let’s get the fuck out of Australia – but not before I mention Nicola commenting on Luke’s April 27 Instagram post with “Ready for the next?” and Luke replying, “Absolutely.” Yeah, yeah, yeah, their shenanigans in Australia expanded the USS Lukola tenfold.

Oh, also, let me throw this in here because, if you are a “ring truther,” this fact plays a significant role in the Lukola timeline. If you do not know what a “ring truther” is, that’s perfectly fine. You can catch up by reading Entry 6 (The One Where I Explained the Claddagh Ring to My Dad) of my blog. I mentioned in Entry 6 that some Lukola sleuths have stated the metadata they pulled from the sketches of the Claddagh ring uploaded by Chupi indicate they were done as early as April 26. In other words, it means the Claddagh was likely commissioned between Australia and Italy. In fact, if we are to believe Chupi when it said it took four weeks to make the ring, then it had to have been commissioned by May 9, 2024, at the latest. Oh, lookie there, that’s Day 1 of the Italy interviews.

But, before we get to May 9, let’s pause on April 29. That was the day Luke’s InStyle spread was published – yes, the one I mentioned earlier. Luke has pictures from this photoshoot still on his Instagram grid – in fact, Nicola commented, “Yess dude!!” on them – but those aren’t the pictures I want to talk about. No, I want to talk about the pictures InStyle posted on its Instagram grid that day. These photographs came directly from Luke, which was confirmed by the InStyle article when it said, “…the actor delighted the InStyle team by delivering the polaroid photos he’d taken for this story tucked oh-so-carefully in a little brown bag for safekeeping.” The pictures Luke provided, among others, included one where he was laying on a blanket in front of the Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles; one where he was sitting at a table marked with the number “95;” and one where he is sitting in a lounge chair on a rooftop. If you want to see the pictures, InStyle still has them available – you just need to go through hundreds of posts to find them. Luke did not like this InStyle post, which was kind of odd because he was tagged in it, and they were reportedly his pictures.

Why did these InStyle polaroids seem so familiar?

Oh, that’s right, because they were.

Remember that April 7 post of Antonia’s I mentioned a bit ago? Yeah, the one where Antonia posted a bunch of random pictures from Los Angeles and – only after InStyle posted Luke’s polaroids – fans realized Antonia had preemptively posted her version of some of Luke’s polaroids.

I am not going to speculate too much about these pictures or their implications in this blog post, but these pictures may resurface in future posts because I find myself side-eyeing the fact they even exist. And, we should probably accept that Luke was aware of them before his pictures came out on April 29 because he threw a like on Antonia’s April 7 post. Could it have been a “blind” like? Sure, I guess, but the logical side of my brain says he probably looked through them at the time she posted. Let’s not worry too much about it right now, though.

After trying to write out my “general” opinion about the pictures several times, I finally decided that the best way I could articulate my thoughts was through the conversation I had with my father. Yes, Dear Dad returns again for another insightful Q&A.

I started by showing Luke and Antonia’s three “matchy” pictures to my dad and then asked him to compare them. To be clear, the pictures were their respective Griffith Observatory, Table 95, and Rooftop Lounging pictures.

Me: “So what do you think?”

Dad: “About what?”

Me: “Ugh! Why did Antonia take those pictures?”

Dad: “Well, to show she’s part of the ‘in’ crowd. The only reason I can see them being taken is if she was going to put them on the Internet.”

Me: “Uhh, as a matter of fact, she did put them on the Internet! Approximately three weeks before Luke’s were published.”

Dad: “See! I’m not as dumb as you think.”

Me: “Whatever. So, you really believe that? She took them to show people that she was, like, there?”

Dad: “Yeah. Why else would she take them? They’re not the kind of photos you’d take normally. What’s she going to do, put them in an album and show her friends in five years and say, ‘Look, I sat in Luke’s chair?’ Who does that? Nobody. Plus, Luke’s pictures look like they were taken with a polaroid camera and Antonia took hers with, I guess, a phone. Why use two different cameras? Again, it doesn’t make sense. Seems to me like she knew what pictures he was taking, and she was trying to copy them so she could put them on the Internet.”

Thanks, Dad.

You do not have to accept my father’s thoughts on the photographs. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. However, I think we can meet in the middle and opine that, at a minimum, Antonia’s pictures caused the weak Lukolas to jump overboard; at most, they gave some people stalker vibes; and somewhere in between, they introduced Antonia's negative influence over the fandom and what some may consider trolling behavior (even if it wasn’t recognized then).

Now, before we land in Italy on May 9, let’s summarize what has happened during the preceding two months.

First, we had Luke traveling to Los Angeles in March with Antonia, either alone or as part of a friend group. Luke had pictures of himself taken while there.

Second, we had Antonia posting pictures in early April that would be linked directly to Luke’s pictures by the end of the month.

Third, throughout the month of April, we had Luke and Nicola traveling together for the World Tour. We have all seen these interviews, and we have all formed independent opinions about them.

Fourth, based on Chupi’s own words, we know the Claddagh ring must have been commissioned no later than May 9.

Okay, now we’ve reached May 9, Day 1 of the Italy press junket.

Besides the press interviews, what happened on that day?

Well, Antonia reposted Luke singing Coldplay’s “Yellow” to her TikTok account.

Uhh… Huh. Interesting.

I mean, it’s possible that this was just a coincidence and she just liked Luke’s version of it. Or, it’s possible Antonia knew that “Yellow” was the Polin wedding song and she anticipated trolling Nicola and/or the fandom with it. But, if we believe she knew “Yellow” was the Polin wedding song, that means either Luke told her, or someone with that knowledge told her (i.e., someone from Luke’s team or family/friend group). We also know that Luke mentioned this song in the May 16, 2022 Netflix Tudum article when Nicola and he were asked about their song choices for Season 3. Luke stated his frontrunner was “Yellow” by Coldplay “because of Penelope’s dresses.” Regardless of why Antonia posted the song, I find it hard to imagine Netflix, Bridgerton, Shondaland, Nicola, or Luke were too impressed by Antonia resharing it on TikTok. I mean, at this point, Netflix & Co. would surely have been aware that Antonia’s “copycat post” went over with the fandom like a wet blanket in December in Canada. I imagine some questions were being asked and Luke may very well have received a hand slap from Corporate – and maybe even from Nicola.

But, that’s not the only thing that happened on May 9.

Luke posted his Homme magazine spread to his Instagram grid on that day, too. He captioned the post, “Chatting through all things S3 with @hommeplusmag [o]ut next week x.” Nicola commented, “Yessss,” and Luke tagged his post with the location of Hackney, London. That last part – about Luke tagging the location in Hackney – apparently sent the fandom into a deep-dive of…Nicola’s backyard. Why? Because Nicola lives in Hackney (Nicola herself confirmed she lived in Hackney in a March 18, 2024 interview with Derry Now), and rumors started to circulate that Luke’s pictures were taken at her home.

Hmm, I didn’t realize May 9 was such a busy day, did you?

So, which came first – the chicken or the egg? Did Antonia repost “Yellow” to her TikTok before Luke posted his Homme in Hackney images to Instagram, or vice versa? I’m sure someone out there has this information. The answer might help shine some light as to why Luke and Nicola seemed “off” in the early part of their Day 1 Italy interviews. But, then again, does the order really matter? Regardless of who posted first, it would seem to me that “Yellow” was a very possible culprit for the different energy on set that day.

That, or Luke really was peeved over someone spilling his coffee.

[russo-woso]

Experimenting || Leah Williamson x reader

Based on this request here.

Warning smut 18+, cunnilingus, fingering

Summary You and Leah are both curious, what happens when friendship and curiosity mixes?

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“I’m glad you made me come out tonight, thank you.” You shouted to your best friend, leah, over the music.

“It’s my job to make you come out, we both know that.” Leah winked, sending a playful smirk.

Leah was right, you were always the shy one, the one that hated nights out but Leah was the one that knew you secretly had lots of fun when you did, hence why it was her job to get you out.

Leah especially knew you needed to get out tonight. You’d just broken up with your boyfriend.

“Have I taken your mind off him?” Leah said, her voice full of anger as she said the final word.

“Definitely.” You smiled, before taking a breath. You didn’t know wether it was the alcohol or just the thought of how good Leah looked but you decided to tell her the real reason why you broke up, having slightly changed the story around when you told her. “Le, I never broke up with Alex because of the argument. He broke up with me because he thought I loved you, in a way more than friends. And now, I’m wondering if that’s true or not. I don’t know how I feel. I’m so so confused. I like you I think, more than a friend, but I don’t know if I’m…”

“Kiss me.” Leah cut you off, a smug look on her face. “Kiss me. I’m in the same situation. If we try it on each other, we’ll get our answers.”

Leah had a really good point. What’s the harm of kissing your best friend? It’s not like you’ll end up sleeping together. It’s just a kiss.

It’s not like you’ll end up sleeping together

That was your exact thought but boy, were you wrong.

It certainly didn’t look that way when Leah had you pushed against the bathroom counter of the club just ten minutes after the original thought.

Your lips hadn’t left each other, the two of you experimenting with what the two of you liked.

“Le…” you panted as she dropped to her knees in front of you.

Leah unbuttoned your jeans, pulling them down your legs to reveal your panties.

“Are you sure you want this?” Leah asked, looking back up at you.

“Yes.” You said, nodding your head desperately.

Leah pushed your panties to the side, her tongue diving in.

She licked at your clit before tongue fucking your pussy.

You gripped the basin, your eyes screwed shut.

You looked down to see Leah’s hand gripping your thigh, the veins in her arms popping out, her biceps flexing.

You moaned at the sight, the pleasure coursing through you playing a major factor.

“Fuck Leah.” You moaned, feeling Leah messily eat you out.

“Taste so good, baby.” Leah mumbled, the vibrations causing your legs to shake.

Leah sucked at your clit as she brought her fingers up to your folds.

She started trusting her fingers in and out at a steady pace, adding to the pleasure.

With Leah fingering you and eating you out, you were so close.

“Le, ‘m gonna cum. Please done stop — oh god — I’m coming!”

Your pussy tightened around Leah’s fingers as you came, your legs squeezing around Leah’s head.

She let you ride out your orgasm before standing back up, bringing you in for a heated kiss.

You moaned into the kiss, tasting yourself of her tongue.

“Wow. I wasn’t expecting that to happen tonight.” You said, looking at Leah who nodded with a smile.

“Neither did I, but I’m glad it happened.”

“Me too.” You agreed

“Let me take you on a date this weekend, please.”

“I’d love to.”

[whereisloe]

my angel ໒꒱

“come from way above” ❀ sevika x reader 𓆝. 𓆟

Got this idea while writing a Silco fic and realized not enough people are writing for this fine ass woman OHMYGOF

I miss my wife, tails. i miss her a lot.

“This doesn’t hurt, does it?” you’d ask as you treated Sevika’s wound, carefully watching every faint expression on her face as you did so. She only grunted in response before letting her head fall into her hand. Considering the positions you both assumed, the woman had been towering over you as you sat comfortably between her legs dressing her abdominal wound. “Aaw , we’re almost done. Just keep being good for me, yeah?” You’d tease with a passive pat to her thigh as you prepped yourself to wrap her waist.

“Shut up” She’d force through a wince as you applied pressure to the deep cut, wrapping it as you did so. “You talk too much”

Once you finished the wrap your hands were quick to roam. Snaking up her chest, and latching onto her neck as you pulled your lips onto her jaw. “Keep getting hurt like this and I might just have to give Silco a little visit for all the trouble he keeps putting you through” Sevika scoffed, half-amused at your wit as she leaned back into the chair. “That man would eat you alive, sweetheart” The petname came off more condescending than endearing as Sevika undermined your words, even brushing off the genuine concern behind the joke with a bittersweet smirk.

“Oh, you promise?” Now it was your turn to laugh as you watched that smirk wipe clean off her face when her expression grew darker. You ignored her very obvious mood change and continued cleaning up your gear. “Y’know, maybe I could get you that pay raise. What do you think?” You’d stand from your crouched position and slowly spin around, flaunting your body at the woman. You even grabbed her rugged hand and bring it to your hip as you knelt into the seat of the chair that had been exposed between her legs.

“Hilarious.” She wouldn’t even half mind you as her hand quickly replaced your hip with a cigar. You rolled your eyes at her passiveness before returning to the ground to clean up your mess. At some point you even walked away allowing Sevika to smoke in peace as you cleaned your equipment.

Once you reentered the room, you’d find Sevika casually reclined on your couch with an unlit cigar still hanging out the side of her mouth. As you got closer her eyes locked on to you, roaming you up and down but once they reached your face, they softened. Just two gentle, big eyes admiring from a distance as you admired back. You were snapped out of your trance when she threw a lighter at you. You caught the metal with ease and examined it. “You forgot to light me” She said plainly, attempting to hide the sentiment she held toward the action. It was reminiscent of the first time the two of you met outside a brothel. Long story short, Sevika was quick to describe you as a huge distraction to her mission that day despite your short interaction that even you barely remembered.

“How cruel of me” You knelt down in front of the couch, now back to admiring your partner from below as her half lidded eyes met your wide ones. Her hand, rough as it was, gently held your cheek as her thumb brushed over your bottom lip. You felt yourself melt into her warm palm as the contrast between her calloused hand and your plush skin sent chills down your skin. You sparked the lighter twice before bringing it to the end of Sevika’s cigar.

She watched you. Allowing the flame to illuminate your soft expressions, and in her eyes, manipulating your features. Making you resemble yourself that night many years ago. She wasn’t any less taken by your more aged features if anything she appreciated them. Glad to see you grow older alongside her than having to admire your beauty from an ageless photo. You would notice her unwavering stare once you tossed the lighter aside and decided to make brief conversation. “You know, I don’t remember much of the first time we met” Sevika took a puff of her cigar before nodding urging you to continue. “But I remember without a doubt the second time”

“I’d be more concerned if you didn’t” She chuckled under her breath as the memories came flooding in. You took note of her already flaking cigar as she held it between her two fingers. Quickly, you placed your ceramic tray gently to her stomach just in time to catch the ash. “That guy had a lot of nerve putting his hands on you, you’re lucky I was there. Otherwise, who knows the things he would’ve did—” Sevika cursed at the thought.

“Well, you were there and I am forever grateful for you,” your voice was low as you rub senseless shapes across her wrist with the pad of your thumb. “my angel” the words were hushed as you kissed the base of her palm, then her wrist, down her arm, and back up her shoulder until you reached her nape where you took a moment. In this time, you pushed yourself onto her, feeling her shift to a more seated position to accommodate for you, you straddle her hips as you tossed your arms carelessly over her shoulders. The ceramic tray had fallen out from under you meeting the concrete with a shattering sound as the shards dispersed. “Damn it” You sighed as you began shifting away from your partner only for her to rest a heavy hand on your waist.

“I’ll clean it, later” Sevika gently guided you back into herself only to latch onto your neck. A shaky breath left your agape lips as you laid helplessly above Sevika. The heat in your cheeks only spread as she shamelessly left those sticky love bites all over your neck.

The sounds that fell from your lips only further egged her on as she found herself getting lower and her hand higher as it slid up your stomach. Eventually, you grew fed up with her slow teasing and brought your fingertips to the seams of your shirt and watched as Sevika’s gaze grew harsh with anticipation. You were ready to lift the cloth but quickly felt your blood run cold as three heavy knocked fell against your front door. You practically jumped out your skin as Sevika scowled at the source of the noise. “Fuck, I’ll get it” You held a hand over your heart as your slowly opened the door, meeting the eyes of a man who seemed to be one of Silco’s goons.

“Sevika, boss needs ya” The man completely disregarded you. You huffed under your breath and glanced up noticing how she was already behind you, prying the door further open. “Gotchu, now get the hell out of here before somebody sees you” Sevika’s voice was cold and harsh as she talked with the man, her tone almost foreign to you as you waited behind the door for Sevika to finish. Once she did, the door was shut with a frustrated grunt as she leant up against the door contemplating her next move.

“You need me to kill him?” From behind, you brought both your arms around her, pressing your face against her shoulder, you felt her laugh. “I’m sure you could.” She turned around and pressed a brief kiss to your temple. “Drinks on me next date to make up for this”

“Drinks are always on you” Your thumbs rubbed anxiously against her waist as you become increasingly aware of how much you hated when she left.

“Guess I need to stop fucking up, then” She gave your cheek on last stroke before turning to leave only to be stopped when you grabbed her mech hand. “You’re off to a bad start if you’re just gonna leave like that” You pulled yourself into her chest, standing on your toes as your lips locked with hers. Moving in tandem, Sevika fell against the door as you cupped her face in your palms and grew warm as her hand fell on the small of your back. Toward the end of your kiss you felt that warm, genuine smile of hers form against your lips as you fell back onto your heels.

“Be sure to fly back home to me, my angel”

god punishes me by making my wives fictional :( also have yall read that hexstrap fic??? sevika please just the tip 🙏😩

[my-chemical-mermaid]

No, I don't feel that way. I'm having fun with the game overall! I think the combat is engaging & the characters are great. The cc is truly phenomenal. The environments are gorgeous. The humor is fun and it has moved me emotionally many times! I've put so many hours into the game already. I just want to preface that I don't hate this game because I'm about to do a lot of critiquing.

With that said, I feel like EA ruined the development/pushed for it to be a little bit more vanilla (imo) so that it would bring in new players. Which is why the game feels a bit disconnected from the world & established lore.

I have a problem with having choices presented as important & world-changing in previous games only to not matter all that much in this game. I get that there are a lot of branching choices which makes it difficult to balance player choice with in-game canon. But I think there's a better solution than just saying "well this is years later and a different part of the world so none of the choices you previously made matter." It feels a bit like a cop-out and results in a lot of aspects of this game feeling a tad watered-down.

Again, I don't blame the developers, I'd be willing to bet that a lot of these critiques I have come down to EA and what they wanted the game to be. It's frustrating to see the potential.

Also this is nothing to do with the quality of the game, I just have to rant. I really hate the name "The Veilguard". I remember when it was announced everyone was so confused. I and a lot of other people at the time thought it wasn't DA4, but like a new side game or book or something. I think Dreadwolf was much more of a bold title and represents the main thrust of the game better. "The Veilguard" feels very disconnected from the story, imo. I think it sounds clunky. I think even "Dragon Age Veilguard" would've been ok, I just don't know why they decided to throw "the" in there. Fast and Furious ass-naming conventions for this game series 😭

I've witnessed a non-zero amount of people express this sentiment, so now I gotta ask the wider Dragon Age fandom

*Critical reviews here imply actual thoughtful analysis, I do not count grifters because they offer no valid commentary

[robjn93]

˗ˏˋ stephanie brown accessible entry point

this is a list of comics to understand the basics of her character! ive seen a lot of people who didnt know where to start to read so ive compiled this list to make it as easy as possible for new readers to get into stephanie brown

who is stephanie brown?

daughter of the criminal and abusive father cluemaster (arthur brown), she became the spoiler to ‘spoil’ her father’s robbery and overall to protect herself and her mother from him. eventually she digs the vigilante life. she becomes robin briefly and is currently one of the batgirls!

as SPOILER:

⟢ secret origins: 80-page giant

this comic /technically/ is set in the future and is steph ‘telling the story of her childhood’ but honestly i find it pretty suitable even with no context and a must read in my eyes to understand her motives and character

⟢ detective comics 647 - 649

her first appearance… with the iconic brick in the face 😭 this comic is not set in a precise timeline, just post-robin 1991 and pre-knightfall so you can read it with no context as well!

⟢ showcase ‘95 #5 (second story)

PLEASE READ THIS i never see it in reading lists and its sooo important to me. it shows steph’s strained relationship with her mother when her dad is not in the picture and briefly some of her school life!

i’d say read robin (1993) afterwards because it consistently features steph, as much as it is ‘tim’s solo run’, but here THE most important stories (they were very hard to pick)

⟢ robin (1993) #3 - 5

her first appearance in the monthly! and lordd the timsteph here makes me sick. tim being saved by steph 🫶 also more on her and her mom as crystal is starting recovery from drug addiction

⟢ robin (1993) issue 15 - 16

not gonna lie, a huge part of me wants me to suggest it because you get to see arthur get his ass kicked by steph (sweet revenge) but theres also steph being saved by tim for a change and more on steph’s relationship with her dad

⟢ robin (1993) #35

this story for me conveys properly the impact that steph’s upbringing had on her sense of justice and morality being fundamentally different from batman and robin’s, something tim and bruce just can’t understand

⟢ robin (1993) #40 - 41

warning / implied SA (ariana ☹️) the story is a two-parter, steph’s side in issue 40 uses diary entries to explain how she feels about the whole vigilante ordeal. issue 41 is more timsteph oriented but it shows tim finally acknowledging his feelings for steph

⟢ huntress/spoiler: blunt trauma

this story happens during cataclysm but its not necessary to read the whole thing + dean’s first appearance 😒 he is the scumbag bastard ‘father of steph’s child’ + helena and steph linkup!!

⟢ robin (1993) #54 and 56-57

BAD CASE OF THE STEPHS MENTIONED + steph and crystal bonding and tim and steph getting together!!! + robin 57 as guilty pleasure :3 their first official date

⟢ robin (1993) #58-65

warning: dixon tackling teen pregnancy. we all know how that goes. remember dean? well steph got pregnant! and that guy bailed on her. dean when i get you. this arc breaks me everytime, steph you deserve the world ☹️

⟢ lewis era robin (1993) aka robin #100 - 120 HEAVY ON ROBIN 111

warning for SA / glimpses on steph’s childhood + dealing with the fact that her father is dead etc etc that will just make you think we should all just kill ourselves yk!!!!

as ROBIN:

⟢ robin (1993) #126 - 128

warning: debatable writing. robin steph! but take everything with like 5 pinches of different salts 😭 its bad y’all but it is essential. dan didio when i get your ass. dan didio when i get youuu

⟢ steph is dead! arc aka batman 634, detective comics 800 and 809, batgirl 62

i fucking hate war games so im not putting y'all through that. here instead: tim being so overcome by grief he can barely react to steph's passing, bruce remembering steph and cass hallucinating her as she is about to die

after that please just imagine that steph came back cause about every issue after her death was the worst ooc writing ever so, again, not putting you guys through that (its tough for stephanie brown fans)

as BATGIRL:

⟢ batgirl (2009)

i wanna say im conflicted about its writing but its about the best thing steph had post-revival. they constantly insult her spoiler legacy so not a fan of that!! but it is essential and i mostly like the rest so whatever :3 steph’s uni arc!

after that honestly nothing happened for her character, so heres on hoping she gets more stuff

[thatbugkidd]

GOAT!CYN REF AND NOTES LETS GO

This bitch gets 3 parts bc I hate myself (her design changes 3 times throughout the story- technically more)

• no horns

• unfortunately the Cyn we get to explore the least of-

• made a deal with Absolute Salvation in order to avoid death. Unaware of consequences and lives in the mansion somewhat peacefully for several months

• starts seeing "hallucinations" and hearing voices of the demon, reminding her of the deal they made, that she has a debt to pay.

• too scared to tell anyone about it. Fearing she wouldn't be believed or would be discarded again

• slowly starts succumbing to the influence, talking to herself, not sleeping, muscle spasms, more difficulty with motor skills than usual

• at this point, with essentially no control over herself, she has begun roping the others (Nate, Jane, and Valerie) under the same influence with a series of ritualistic offerings and seances without their knowings.

• eventually fully completes the ritual right before the Gala, summoning the actual entity to become its vessel. Things only go downhill from here for a bit-

• Possessed by Absolute Salvation

• BIG OL HORNSSS

• Struggles to walk due to heels not being made for her anatomy (and already struggling motor skills) uses tentacles to help brace and balance herself

• Jagged and rough teeth

• Can shapeshift into someone if they consume the blood or flesh of them. Applies to all living organisms

• can duplicate body parts (including borrowed parts) and contort body in very unnatural and painful ways

• can shadow-shift (basically melting into the shadows, and can reappear in any surrounding shadow. The salvation equivalent of cynessa straight up teleporting in the show)

• explores a lot more of the manipulative and abusive tendencies of the AS we never got to see in the show. Still goofy but we see much more evil from her

• It actually retains much of Cyn's personality as it studied and adopted her behavior while it was dormant in the mansion

• the real Cyn is trapped in her own mindscape, enduring years of torture and abuse from the AS while she has no control over her body. She can see what is happening through her eyes, but it often becomes hazy and difficult to keep up with things over the years. Its easier to ignore it anyway

• No longer possessed by the malicious part of AS (though still retaining the abilities)

• has a scar just on the left side of her chest from being exorcised (stabbed with the "patch"/crucifix)

• either dresses like a schoolgirl or a 57 yr old man there is no in-between

• still needs to consume blood and flesh occasionally, as much as she hates it. Its like a bad craving that's unhealthy to suppress

• very malnourished at first due to the eating habits of the AS while in control of her body- takes a long time for her to gain an appetite back and stomach food without immediately throwing it up and heaving.

• she does get healthier eventually though!! Gains weight, her horns become darker and shinier (i need her to have something going for her ok)

• very isolated and defensive in the beginning while she's adjusting to everything.

• after MONTHS of recovering with a good support system, she does come back out of her shell. Much more timid at first after all of the initial aggressiveness, and slowly regains more of her old personality traits

• has lots of chronic pain and fatigue- usually comes in flare ups.

• has even more trouble walking than before. The first few months were the worst, while she refused help from anyone except Nate. Would constantly stumble, trip, and jerk around as she walked because of how badly her ankles and knees were damaged from the AS.

• eventually got in a better place and let others help her more- like physical therapy sessions but no one is licenced! She still struggles, walks with a limp and wears knee/ankle braces, but it's much more manageable than before.

• uses a crutch during bad flare ups or when walking for extended periods of time

• pining HARDDDD FOR UZIII even in the beginning when they didn't like each other lol

They were both just fearful and on edge around each other, and especially with Cyn assuming Uzi still hates her guts or wants to kill her, they tended to snap at each other from the tension. Things obviously ease up eventually though :3

Alright, this monstrosity of a post is long enough. I'll try to work on Uzi or Nate next! Theirs shouldn't be quite as long since this is mostly a very cyn focused au.

[marzipanandminutiae]

I DID IT

I AM CAUGHT UP ON THE HANDMAID'S TALE

EVEN THOUGH ALL OF SEASON 5 WAS A SLOG TO GET THROUGH

my god. I've never done so much Not Caring about a TV show as this past season. the story feels like it's just dragging on and on past a reasonable stopping point- June getting to Canada -especially since they said they're still adapting The Testaments next as of this past February

also the attempts by Lawrence to justify Gilead as "using religious zealots to save humanity" seems like a weird both-sides-ism that I've been worried about since the first mention of Gilead cutting their carbon emissions back in the earlier seasons of the show

for context, book!Gilead is lucky they lasted even the 20-ish years they're implied to have in the afterword of TT. they're climate change deniers, nobody ever has enough of anything- even the children of the Commanders, as the Hannah character of the books grows up, circulate the same clothing and toys amongst themselves and eat synthetic dairy products instead of the real deal -power cuts are frequent, Commanders' houses have guards everywhere because children being "kidnapped" by resistance members trying to get them out of Gilead is common, they're sending missionaries abroad to frantically proselytize because they're running out of fertile young women due to escapes and executions, and frankly everything holds together about as well as you'd expect for a wildly irrational dystopia that doesn't care about facts or logic

the show transforms them into a society with human rights abuses galore, but no other real issues. scarcity is hinted at a few times but never actually appears to impact characters' lives. everyone has beautifully-fitted matching outfits; you never see clothes being passed on to anyone else when someone no longer needs them. no major food groups seem to be lacking. and hey, they fixed climate change so well that Boston now sees Toronto-level snow every winter! (because that's...definitely how that works!)

maybe the showrunners felt that they needed to create a reason why anyone who wasn't a zealot would go along with Gilead, but they took out the main reason from the books: certain anti-porn feminists making a devil's bargain with the religious right, the whole phenomenon of the 1980s that made Atwood write the book to begin with

there aren't supposed to be Aspects In Which Gilead Is Good Actually. it's a dystopia. it's a commentary on negative aspects of our society. it doesn't have to be positive in any capacity

the show is really good at a lot of things- I especially liked the choice to make June decidedly Christian, even though it was probably made more to avoid criticism of the show as anti-Christian than to add character depth

but just like the last time I tried to watch it, I found myself getting less and less invested as the seasons went on

we'll see how the sixth and final season goes for me, I guess

[higuchisora]

They said the scripts were "locked in" for season 2 by the release of season 1 and it was just the animation they were working on, but I don't think that necessarily means they didn't make a SINGLE change. I think it might mean they had the general broad strokes of it, though, so even though I can totally see this happening, I don't know how much of it really was just them not thinking shit through ahead of time.

Like I wouldn't be surprised if they really only had the skeleton of a script "locked in" and the rest of it had significant changes, but I think that would make sense - Ambessa feels like she wasn't even supposed to BE in half the scenes she was in because she contributed literally nothing to them. I could imagine a situation in which Ambessa was initially supposed to have a much smaller role, maybe only becoming important towards the VERY end, like final episode or something where it reveals some type of scheme she had/sets up possible future stories etc., and that Caitlyn being "mentored" could've come from someone else. A lot of the lines weren't necessarily relevant to location, so the dialogue could've been tweaked and initially come from another character - maybe one of those "conversations with a ghost" with her mother or something, like an argument with the different sides of herself or whatever.

Either way, there are plenty of moments like this that feel like they were out of place or redistributed or rushed in such a way that I doubt they made ZERO changes (and also because it's Hollywood, last minute changes are NOT new).

Same for Mel; her plot was so irrelevant I wouldn't be surprised if they just added it at the last minute. Especially because she hardly said anything, particularly during confrontations.

To that end, them ignoring Jinx's mental illness feels like one of those cutting corners situations. Something along the lines of, "Well they already know she's mentally ill, there's no need to keep showing it" which we know is DUMB AF but to corporate minds is perfectly logical. It felt like they waffled between making the story "shocking" and keeping the characters likeable (which they failed to do with a lot of them, so...)

Hence why Caitlyn never has to answer for her actions. And why Vi seems like she's been lobotomized and is strictly relegated to the "love interest" role, despite being arguably more of a main character in s1 than Caitlyn (as I was under the impression that this show was about the sisters, not their romantic interests). And why Jinx's only personality traits are semi-sarcastic and suicidal. And why her and Vi's differences seem to solely boil down to "I don't like your girlfriend" (which in s2 is pretty valid for Jinx's part, spoken as a former caitvi shipper, but still takes away from the real weight of their conflict). And why Ekko was exiled for 3 whole episodes on a Spiderverse subplot.

Unfortunately, we'll never really know what the truth is, or what the "original" script would've looked like (and if it was really all that different from now). But what I wouldn't have given to be in that room with a squeaky toy hammer so I could bonk Netflix/Riot every time they suggested some stupid shit....

Something that has really bugged me about season two is Jinx's hallucinations and PTSD. It magically disappears when Silco dies, save for two scenes. I remember when people on reddit were literally making jokes about the writers going this route because it would be so stupid.

One of the things I loved about season one was the realistic depictions of mental illness that you just don't see often in media. I don't know what it is like to experience schizophrenia, but I have experienced PTSD and paranoia, and seeing how it was represented in Arcane was actually one of the things that helped me through it.

And then season 2 comes around and they just completely neglect this side of Jinx.

PTSD isn't a switch that can magically be flipped off. Recovery is a slow and gradual process. In absolutely no world would Jinx killing yet another family member cure her of her conditions, it would make them 10 times worse. Not to mention just before killing him she has an extremely severe psychotic episode, which would only make forgetting her trauma even more difficult since it was just brought up fresh in her mind.

And what even about the end of s1 was it that healed her? I genuinely have no idea, because she finally chooses Jinx only to once again go back and forth between Jinx and Powder in season two, because apparently all that buildup for her final decision was for nothing.

She does experience two hallucinations (I'm not going to count the jail silco thing in act three because what even was that?) when she sees enforcer Vi and when Sevika talks about the attack at Vander's statue, but suddenly that is all that triggers her?

In season one, just seeing Vi, or even someone who looks like Vi triggers her. But now when Vi is literally trying to capture and possibly kill her she is fine, it's only the mask that bothers her? Wasn't that her worst fear, that Silco and Sevika were right, that Vi only wanted to stop her? And she is constantly triggered by Cait in season 1 but not 2?

And then there was the insulting ending, where jail Silco tells Jinx to 'break the cycle' (something he would absolutely never do) and Jinx finally finds redemption by literally killing herself after Isha kills herself in what is framed as an act of heroism (and if Jinx actually didnt, than what even was the point of that scene?) What happened to Ekko trying to stop Jinx from doing that? What happened to Silco having Singed revive her to save her life after she attempts to take it? Or Jayce and Viktor talking each other out of it? Or Silco choosing to keep fighting rather than give into the "peace in water"?

On purpose or not season 2 frames suicide as a glorious, edgy, perhaps even necessary thing and it's disgusting.

[ckret2]

I'd been meaning to do this since I found your account but today I read through the entirety of your Goldielocks fic (or at least, what's available) and all I can say is WOW !!!!!

You're really fucking good at writing these characters, capturing the lighthearted-yet-somehow-serious tone of the show, and the stuff you make up for worldbuilding fits right in with canon stuff. As a lover of making things canon-compliant and in-spirit-of-canon, this fic is like a dream come true. You're an amazing author !

I really look forward to your post-TBOB edits of the eclipse arc and the flatworld arc, I can already kind of guess where you're gonna go with it, but it's still exciting to think about what direction you might take things.

I'm also wondering, are you planning on changing anything about the Death Valley girls, what with the info we got about ciphertology and the like ? Or keeping them relatively the same ?

(I stayed up till almost midnight reading this - I'm so glad I don't have to be anywhere early tomorrow)

Thank you!! I've discussed my TBOB edits of the eclipse arc already, you can see some of them here if you want.

For the flatworld arc, I actually think basically nothing's going to change. Spoilers, but: Bill's world was never gonna be like Flatworld. It was gonna be a big reveal late in the fic ("big" for the characters, not the readers lmao) that Bill's world was actually pretty okay—like yeah, a few flaws, but not "barely-exaggerated satire of Victorian-era ableism/sexism/classism" flaws—and everything the kids read in Flatworld that made them pity Bill was 100% bullshit. It was going to turn out that Bill's world is actually...

... pretty much fucking exactly like Euclydia ended up being in canon—up to and including baby Bill getting medical trauma over having a super-rare cool-ass eye mutation that lets him see the stars of the third dimension.

I was gonna have Bill go "oh yeah, that's why I drove the author insane, I was that pissed at him for making my home world look that bad. I didn't correct you guys because I thought it'd be useful if you pitied me."

I did this because, before TBOB came out, I knew that no matter what I wrote about Bill's home dimension, probably a good 20% of readers would just push it to the side and automatically assume that his dimension was exactly the same as Flatland—like, occasionally readers were making comments about my fic talking about how triangles ***ARE*** oppressed in his home dimension like it was a canonical fact and taking it as a given that I was writing that. For that 20%, it seemed to me like the best way to ensure it got through to them that whoa, this isn't Flatland would be to have the characters assume his dimension is exactly the same as Flatland so that I could say, in story, "no that's totally wrong."

Post-TBOB, a lot fewer readers are gonna make that assumption. But having the characters assume his dimension is a lot worse than it really is is still a part of the story—it ties into the narrative of them slowly growing to expect him to be something more sympathetic/heroic than he actually is, a la Dipper's assumption that the Axolotl poem is a prophecy about how Bill will help save them—so there's no reason for me to take it out.

So yeah, tl;dr: Flatworld doesn't need to change because it was always going to be wrong.

I'm only gonna change the Death Valley girls a little bit. Everything I've currently written about them stays the same; except I'm also gonna mention that, yes, they are a Ciphertology sect, and yes, all the girls in the cult are Cipherwives.

So now I also get to crack jokes about Bill being both flattered and a little creeped out that even after he mostly ditched the cult they just kept inducting new recruits as "cipherwives" whether he showed up or not, like wow, you're just gonna marry him off in absentia to some lady he's never met??? What if he doesn't wanna marry her? What if he doesn't like her haircut?? Every time he shows up he finds out he's got a new wife! He loves the attention, but jeez, girls! At least send him a letter with his new bride's picture and wait for him to mail back an "OK" or something!

[arrowfleur]

���‧₊˚ Redacted HC’s ✩‧

I’ve been pretty shit at writing and posting this past year, which is crappy because I enjoy it so I wanted to do something that was less pressure than writing fics but could still make people happy. I’ve put every main redacted couple - plus a few extras - on a spin wheel and will be writing a long list of HC’s each day depending on who I get :)

Anyways, Part 1: Lasko and Dear

Dear loves thrifting but they didn’t want to take Lasko with them at first in case he found something they wanted, before they did. Now they borrow each others clothes so it wouldn’t matter anyway.

When they eventually took him he spent the entire time trying to find things they liked.

Dear has two toned hair

Lasko has never stopped thinking that dear is the coolest person to ever walk the earth, ever.

Sometimes dear wears colour contacts for fun

Both of them have a pocket watch on a chain

For their first anniversary Dear bought Lasko a locket, with a picture of the entire Damn Squad in it.

He added a photo of them to the other side

Dear has pet rats, they take such good care of them and their cage is huge

Lasko was slightly weary at first but he warmed up to them pretty well

Dear is very good at fixing things.

One of the first times they went to his apartment, his Ac broke. Dear just calmly listened to his apologetic rant about it before asking where the toolbox was.

Dear has tattoos behind their ears

Lasko is very good at saving but he’s not tight and always tries to pay for the whole table.

Very rarely has he succeeded

Dear has a collection of paper boy hats.

Lasko wears earmuffs when it’s cold because he always gets earaches

Dear has curled their hair with coke cans before

They love old black and white movies

Lasko likes really crappy b-movies

Can’t be let down if you know it’s going to be bad before it starts

Dear can keep up very well with Damien’s academic discussions and sometimes debates him just for the sake of it. Damien enjoys the challenge.

Dear is not the biggest Christmas enjoyer but this year they’re looking forward to it.

Lasko has booked a couple of Christmas markets for them

Dear HATES the idea of a cruise. Not because of the ocean but because they can’t get off the boat once it sets off.

Lasko always takes those little pots of jam and the little shampoo/conditioner bottles whenever he goes to a hotel

Neither of them can ice skate well whatsoever

Lasko has and will continue to use those little penguins meant for children. Dear finds it fucking hilarious all while they’re clinging to the side of the rink themselves

They share grandpa jumpers

When they first started dating, dear would pretend to forget their lanyard so that lasko would have to go down and let them in.

They both wear lots of rings and love playing with each others hands

Lasko used to wear those fake glasses from Claire’s

Dear is so casually flirty with Lasko that he thought it was just their personality at first

That’s why they eventually just had to go into his office and straight up ask him out

Dear kisses Lasko’s nose often, especially when they’re saying goodbye to each other or he’s severely overthinking

Dear really enjoys those mugs that change colour when you put hot water in them

Lasko has an entire cupboard dedicated to board games

Dear was delighted

Dear reads random niche comics and webtoons

And they have a lot of figurines

Lasko is an unsweetened oat milk enjoyer!!

Dear inhales food like it’s nobody’s business

It doesn’t last five minutes on their plate

They also never get indigestion

Their go-to cocktail is an old fashioned

Lasko hates it

Dear will simply repeat what Lasko says in a teasing tone to fluster him

Or they’ll just randomly start acting like the weirdest story is sexy.

‘And then he, he told me they’d have to charge me more for these stupid tires that I didn’t even ask for!’

‘ and what did you say? 😏

‘Well I- I told him,

‘ did you stick up for yourself? 😏😏

‘ well I told him I wasn’t going to pay for it’

*dear looking him up and down’

‘Good job, I don’t like it when other play dirty with you’

And they’re making out, Lasko doesn’t know how they do it they just have a way. It literally doesn’t even make sense.

Lasko’s hair grows incredibly quick. He shaves ALOT.

His skins is also so beautiful, it’s so soft and clear and glowy.

Dear has acne scars and they do little skincare nights together but Lasko thinks they’re HOT AS FUCK

Okay that’s all, also my proof that I got these guys first

[ktkpopping]

Burn

summary: following a devastating breakup, your best friend Mingi helps you to put yourself back together

Hello again!! This fic was inspired solely by how Mingi says “burn it” in Outlaw. I heard it and immediately had the thought that it would make a cool fic idea. If you like some angst and a lot of hurt/comfort, then this is the fic for you!!

This fic can be read as gender-neutral! There are no identifying traits to mc or their ex-partner.

warnings: depictions of depression and anxiety throughout the story. This is a fic following a nasty breakup and the mc struggles in the aftermath.

pairing: best friend Mingi x reader

genres: heavy angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

word count: 8.8k

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60850432

———

You sat there stunned, unable to comprehend the words displayed before you on the screen.

LOML💕

It’s over, I found someone else

Sorry y/n

Your person, or who you THOUGHT was your person, had found someone else??

As you stood there in your apartment, your phone fell from your hands as you dropped to your knees, sitting there unseeing at the linoleum floor as you tried to process the abrupt end of your relationship.

How were you supposed to move on?

You wondered if you’d ever be able to stop crying, or if your eyes would ever cease to be swollen.

It’s been weeks since your breakup, yet you still felt the pure anguish and heartache, which were slowly fading their way into anger. How could they do this to you?

Two years of time wasted on someone who had the utter AUDACITY to callously end your relationship VIA TEXT MESSAGE because they had “found somebody else.”

What the fuck? The texts were a blow to your self esteem and you weren’t sure you’d be able to recover. You hated what those words made you see in the mirror–someone unworthy of anyone’s time.

How could someone who had claimed to love you exhibit such cowardice? Had you really known them at all? How long had this dalliance been going on? Did they cheat? Was it physical or emotional?

Dark clouds loomed in your mind as you spiraled and felt more tears leak out.

What was the point in anything? You stayed in bed and refused to shower because you were just going to get dirty again. You didn’t have the energy to stand upright for that long anyway. Staying here in bed was your safe haven, and you didn’t want to move.

Burying your face into your pillow you screamed until your voice was hoarse and you felt a little dizzy, hoping that the exhaustion and misery would overtake you.

That’s how your best friend, Mingi, found you. Laying face down and sniffling on a messy bed and a floor covered in tissues, takeout wrappers, and dirty clothes, while attempting to dry your tears on the sleeve of your oversized hoodie. Probably one of Mingi’s old ones, if he had to guess.

Mingi was the only person besides your partner, well, ex-partner, that had a key to your place. He made a mental note to remind you to change the locks, though he doubted the fucker would ever come back here for any reason.

Mingi couldn’t help but feel his heart clench painfully at the sight of his best friend in this state. It looked like you had barely moved in days. You deserved so much better than someone who would throw you to the side so easily.

He cleared his throat in an attempt to get your attention, but you were too far gone in your anguish to hear him. Tentatively, he ventured closer and tried again. This time, you heard his deep cough and turned your heavy head toward the sound.

His eyes found yours and softened even more at the heartbroken expression on your face. He came closer and you felt the bed dip as he sat his large frame close to you.

You abruptly shifted and flung yourself into his arms, hearing him exhale an “oof” at the unexpected contact, but quickly locking his arms around you in a comforting embrace.

You sobbed harder into his chest as he tucked your head under his chin and began rubbing his large hands up and down your back in a comforting motion.

The two of you stayed like this for a while until your heaving sobs quieted into soft sniffles, his grip on you never relenting.

“How could they do this to me, Min? I know it’s been weeks, I just can’t—I can’t fucking believe they ended it this way!! Found someone ‘better’,” you scoffed. “What the fuck does that even mean?!? Did I really mean so little to them?”

The tears welled up as your breaths became uneven again.

You and Mingi had had this conversation before, but it was clear it would take a while to come to terms with the reality of the situation. Mingi’s heart continued to break for you, but he vowed that he’d always be by your side and he’d do his damndest to help you get through it.

You could feel the rumble of his deep voice against you as he spoke. “It’s cliche to say, but they’re not fucking worth it. I know in the back of your mind you know this and you probably don’t want to hear it right now, but it’s true.”

You choked out what sounded like a scoff.

“I know. I KNOW. But like…I just…I loved them. I LOVED them. Did they even love me? They’ve made me feel so fucking worthless and I don’t know why I can’t just let it go!” you wailed into his chest.

He tightened his hold around you. “You don’t have to justify your feelings to me, you’re entitled to feel however you want about that jackass. I’m not the one to dictate how you grieve or process. I’m just here, as your best friend, to hold you and help you through it. I always will be,” he murmured above you.

Your tears spilled out a little faster and you sniffled into his chest. “What would I ever do without you, Min? I can’t believe I have you in my life sometimes.”

You and Mingi had known each other for well over a decade, having attended high school together and remaining close friends through college and the start of your careers.

You honestly don’t know how you would’ve made it this far without him.

———

“Mingi, promise me we’ll stick together no matter what. You’re my best friend in this whole world,” you stated, staring up at the stars with Mingi sitting next to you in the bed of his beat-up pickup.

“Of course y/n, I’ll always be with you. You’re my best friend too.”

And that’s how you always were. A package deal. Two peas in a pod, inseparable, but not in a way that makes the people around you uncomfortable. You and Mingi were the type of friends who could pull anyone in and make them feel like they’ve known you their whole lives.

You were eternally grateful for Mingi and his steadfast friendship, a strong and enduring presence in your life.

Him supporting you at events in high school, you in turn sticking with him in his obsession with e-sports and the quarterly decision to become a gym rat, giving up a mere 3 weeks later.

Him being a protective big brother at frat parties when someone got a little too handsy with you when he could see the distress plainly on your face.

You willing to go to war for him when some girl led him on and bruised his ego for a while one semester.

He was your best friend, your ride or die.

And you hoped it would always stay that way.

———

In the back of your mind you wondered if your friendship with Mingi had played into a hidden insecurity with your partner. Were they threatened? You were together for two years, if they were feeling insecure or threatened, why didn’t they vocalize it?

Little did you know, Mingi wondered the same thing. He hadn’t hated your ex until now, but they had treated you well and had never given any indication that they were a shitty partner or that your friendship with him had been a sore spot. The reasoning for leaving you really confounded him.

Noting your silence and sensing your impending spiral, Mingi squeezed you again to bring you back to the present and forced your focus back onto the feeling of his strong arms around you and his large frame pressed against your side.

You heaved out a sigh. “I still have so much of their shit here in the apartment, not to mention all the fucking photos we’d taken together. What am I supposed to do with it all? I don’t want to see that asshole’s face ever again if I can help it.”

“Burn it,” came Mingi’s casual reply.

You had to wonder if you heard him correctly. “I’m sorry, did you say BURN it?”

“Yeah, I did. Burn it,” you could feel his shrug as he shifted around you.

Turning to look up at him with disbelief in your eyes, you met his intense gaze with an incredulous one of your own.

“I can’t just BURN everything! There’s gotta be some fire code against that or something. Like how the fuck am I supposed to burn a PlayStation??” You remarked, exasperated. “I didn’t know you had a penchant for pyromania!”

Mingi chuckled in his rich, husky tone. “I was referring to the photos, maybe some of their clothes. We can either throw the rest at them or pawn it. Your choice, really, he hummed. “I just think it would be cathartic for you to set fire to some of the physical memories as a way of letting go. Perhaps even a phoenix-esque rebirth for you.”

You mulled over his suggestion.

“You don’t have to decide right now, I think you need to take some time to think about it and really allow yourself time to begin the moving on process,” he spoke into your hairline.

Mingi knew you were depressed, the state of your room and your mental wellbeing a clear indication to him. He knew exactly how it felt to hit rock bottom and feel so helpless, with zero motivation to do as much as even lifting your arms. He really wanted to be there for you as you had always been there for him during his bouts of depression and anxiety.

“In the meantime, you’ve been cooped up here in your room for far too long. I know how hard it is to break out of a despair so heavy, but you should take a shower and maybe brush your teeth to allow yourself to feel refreshed. I can help you with whatever you need, even if it means lifting the toothbrush myself. Hell, I could help you shower if you wanted. I don’t care. If you don’t want that, then I can help you clean up in here a bit. What would you prefer?”

He continued to rub soothing circles into your back and thigh as you considered his offer. “I’ll even carry you to the bathroom myself if that makes the decision easier.”

You sighed heavily and tightened your grip on him which indicated to him that you were going to take him up on this offer, so he kept his hold around your shoulders and scooped you up under your legs to bring you to your ensuite bathroom.

He deposited you on the counter and turned to look for your hair brush, hoping to work some of the knots out of your slightly matted hair before your shower. He found a comb, settling beside you to gently begin the detangling process. He worked in silence, being as thorough as possible without tugging too hard and causing you pain. You allowed him to work as you felt yourself zoning out and staring at the tile.

Eventually, he worked out the tangles and turned to start the shower. “Would you like me to help you shower, or do you think you can handle it yourself? If you want my help, I can bring you a bathing suit if that would make you more comfortable.”

“Mingi, we’ve both seen each other in extremely compromising positions in our years of friendship, I don’t care if you see my ass or any other bits for that matter, but I would love your help. I…just really don’t have the energy to hold myself up at this point.”

Nodding, Mingi moved to help divest you of your clothing, followed by his own. He turned back toward the shower to test the temperature, deeming it acceptable and then once again hoisted you into his arms to step into the shower.

Placing you gently under the spray, he set about looking for your face wash to start. He squirted some into your palm. “I don’t want to get any in your eyes, I know you can do this one,” he cooed softly at you, bringing your hands up to lather your face. As if on autopilot, you washed the buildup of oil and dried tears from your face and allowed the water to cascade over you.

Once you were finished, you turned back toward Mingi and he resumed his search of your products to locate your shampoo. Placing a suitable amount between his large palms, he turned you back around so that you were facing the spray and began to work his large hands through your hair and massaging your scalp.

You let out a contented hum as he massaged, shuddering a little at the feeling of his hands as they circled near your nape. Once he deemed suitable, he turned you back around to place your head under the spray as he let the water run through and wash away the suds. He continued to lightly massage his fingers through your now-clean hair, which left you uttering another contented sigh at the feeling.

Next, he went for the conditioner and turned you back around so that he could work the product through your ends. Once satisfied, he rinsed off his hands and reached for your silicone loofah, globbing body wash onto it and setting out to scrub the grime and dead skin off of you. He remained gentle as he worked his way up and down your body, nudging your legs apart at one point to wash between them. Following that, he detached the shower head and began rinsing you off, washing away however many days of wallowing and with it, some of the tension you had been feeling since you woke up that morning.

You leaned yourself back against Mingi and he wrapped his arms around you, once again locking you in a tight embrace as the water cascaded over the two of you, encasing you in a brief reprieve and moment of serenity.

As the water started to run tepid, Mingi turned off the tap and led you out of the stall to wrap you in a massive fluffy towel to dry you off. He worked diligently on you before grabbing another towel for himself and wrapping it around his waist.

“Wait here, I’m going to go strip your sheets and re-make your bed so that you have something clean to lay on.”

He left the room and you heard him banging around your closest looking for your clean sheets. Once again, you found yourself zoning out. You don’t know how long he was gone, but eventually you saw his blurred frame in front of you, snapping you back into the present and forcing your eyes up to his.

He reached out to caress the side of your face while holding your gaze. “Would you like me to help you brush your teeth, or do you think you can handle it yourself?”

Feeling a little bit less in your own head, you decided that you could handle this task yourself. You turned toward the sink and reached for the toothbrush and toothpaste to slowly rid your teeth of plaque and freshen your breath. You were slowly feeling a little more alive than previously thanks to Mingi.

Once you finished and rinsed your mouth out, you turned back towards Mingi and he offered you a hand, leading you gently out of the bathroom and back toward your room.

You noticed that he had thrown away all the trash and put your dirty clothes in the basket. Feeling your eyes well up a little bit, you turned to Mingi to thank him for his kindness and all his help.

“You don’t need to thank me. I know you would do the same for me if the situation were reversed. I’m happy to do anything you need to help you feel like yourself again,” he replied in a soft tone, hand once again moving to cup your face.

You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch for a moment, relishing in the comfort only Mingi could provide. Parting after a moment, you shifted back onto your bed, suddenly feeling the weight of everything settle on you, feeling utterly spent.

“Rest for a while. I’ll be right here when you wake up, I promise.” Mingi climbed in after you to settle against the headboard and help you into the blankets. You curled onto your side to face him as you got comfortable.

“Really, truly, thank you Mingi. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” His words echoing in your mind as you finally drifted off to sleep.

———

The next few weeks progressed with Mingi spending as much time as he could with you. You were able to get medical leave from work for another week to allow for a little more time to recover.

You and Mingi would spend evenings on your couch snuggled up and watching dramas and some of your favorite movies, and he would cook a delicious meal almost every night. Tonight, you and Mingi were curled up under a few blankets with bowls of stew.

“Have you given any thought to what you’re going to do with your ex’s things?” asked Mingi between mouthfuls of food.

Swallowing your food, you tried to remember if you had heard from your ex in the previous weeks. Not remembering anything of note, you shook your head.

“They surprisingly haven’t asked for any of their shit back, so I’m not really sure if it needs to be an urgent matter or not. Frankly, I don’t care what they want because they broke my heart and deserve to rot.”

He chuckled. “Damn, brutal.”

You smirked back at him and took another bite of stew, reveling in the comfort of having your best friend here with you.

As you ate, you looked over at Mingi. His eyes were focused on the screen and you just took him in as he sat there. You were so grateful for him, you wouldn’t want anyone else as your best friend.

He must have felt you staring and he shifted his gaze back to yours.

“Do I have something on my face?”

You giggled at him as he smirked.

“Yeah, you do,” you said as you placed your bowl down and grabbed a throw pillow before launching it toward him.

Luckily, his reflexes were quick and he caught the pillow midair before it could smack him.

“Oh you’re gonna pay for that one alright” he chuckled in a dangerous tone.

Eyes wide, you stood up quickly and bolted down the hallway toward your bedroom. Mingi followed after you, catching up in just a few long strides. Damn his long legs, you were no match for his pace.

He grabbed around your waist and threw you over his shoulder as you kicked your legs and slapped at his shoulders.

“Put me down you big dummy!”

“Do you yield?” he asked as you dangled helplessly, flailing in an attempt to be put down, but Mingi’s grip did not relent.

“Fine, fine!! I yield! Please put me down now!”

He gently set you back on your feet as you felt the blood rush back down from your face after being upside down.

You caught your breath and Mingi just continued to smirk at you with small chuckles.

“You’re a bold one, that’s for sure,” he intoned in his deep drawl.

You turned to glare at him, but were unable to maintain the expression as you looked at the goofy grin on your best friend’s face. You ended up doubling over to laugh, leaning forward to catch Mingi in a hug.

“Come on big guy, let’s go back to the couch and finish our show.” You grabbed his arm and pulled him back toward your nest of blankets on the couch, settling back into the comfortable silence.

At some point you must have drifted off, because you wake to a darkened room and a blanket placed over you. You blink a few times and let your eyes adjust to the low light and see a note on the table.

I put away the leftovers and washed the dishes. I would’ve stayed but I have an early meeting tomorrow so I needed to head home. I’ll be around all week if you need something or want to hang out. Let me know if the idiot contacts you, I’ll be there with a lighter.

xx Min

You smiled at his barely legible script. Yeah, you really were lucky to have him as your best friend.

———

Another few weeks pass without contact from your ex. You were becoming comfortable with the idea that they genuinely didn’t care about whatever they left at your apartment, and had almost forgotten they left anything here at all.

You were finally able to go back to work, feeling a little less like the world was going to cave in on you. The despair you had previously felt morphed into righteous anger, then transformed again into a bit of numbness. But it was enough to make you forget about your failed relationship and return to a relative normalcy.

Evenings were still spent with Mingi, either at your place or his as he continued to find ways to help keep you and your mind occupied.

It was one night a week later as you were both sitting on opposite ends of your couch. You were sketching in a notebook and Mingi was reading a graphic novel, glasses perched on his nose and hair a little ruffled as if he had been absently running his fingers through it.

It was an adorable habit of his, messing up his hair as he focused on something. You smiled to yourself as you peered at him, looking back down to continue sketching.

You had lost yourself in the moment until you heard your phone go off. Thinking nothing of it, you flipped it over, blood immediately running cold at the familiar number on the screen.

Mingi looked over at you, dropping his book when he noticed the look on your face. You were frozen in shock, not sure what to do.

Mingi entered your line of sight as the ringing stopped, taking your phone out of your hands and placing it back on the coffee table. Grabbing your hands in his large ones, he squeezed, drawing your attention back to him.

“Hey, look at me. You’re shaking. Look in my eyes. Match your breathing to mine, okay?” Mingi grabbed one of your hands and placed it to his chest, prompting you to regulate your breathing to help you stave off the impending panic attack.

As you continued to breathe, you heard the phone go off again, prompting another small spike of panic.

“Hey, hey. Keep your eyes on me. Do you want me to answer it and talk to them?”

Unable to form words due to the rising panic and bile in your throat, you gave Mingi a barely perceptible nod.

“Okay. I’ll deal with it. What I need you to do for me is to keep your hands on your thighs and keep working on your breathing. In for four, hold for four, out for four. Can you do that for me?”

He holds your gaze as you nod again.

“Alright, I’m going to let go of your hands now. I’ll be in the kitchen, in your direct line of sight. I won’t be long, I promise.”

He gives your hands another squeeze as he turns to grab the phone. A scowl crosses his features and he has to take a deep breath to prevent himself from blowing up at your ex over the phone.

Swiping the screen, he answers.

“What do you want, asshole?” Mingi practically growls.

“Mingi? Where’s y/n?”

“None of your fucking business, that’s where. Why are you calling? It’s been months. What the fuck could you possibly want?” Mingi seethes.

He supposes he could handle this a little more calmly, but he’s fucking LIVID at this idiot for the way they hung you out to dry.

“Hey man, lose the hostility. I’m not trying to start anything, I just want to come get the things I left at y/n’s place. Can I come by and grab it this weekend?”

Mingi sees red.

“Absolutely fucking not. I’m not letting you anywhere near y/n after the shit you pulled. What you’re gonna do is text me a list of the things you need, and I’ll leave them outside for you,” his voice low, dangerous, as he growls into the receiver.

“Jesus Christ Mingi, when did you become their guard dog? I always knew you two had something going on between you,” came the snide reply of your ex.

And there it was. If Mingi weren’t pissed before, he was furious now. That insecurity must’ve been festering long enough for them to seek comfort in someone else instead of being and adult and talking to you about it.

Though Mingi wondered if even that would’ve been enough for the sniveling little insecure worm to have been satisfied.

Drawing in a breath, Mingi closed his eyes and counted to 5 before responding.

“Y/n is my best friend. I’m sorry that your insecure ass couldn’t handle them having me as a friend. If that’s the reason you broke up with them, you’re a bigger idiot than I thought you were. You could’ve, you know, fucking TALKED to them about this instead of seeking comfort in the next person who fucking blinks at you. Pathetic. Send me your list, and don’t contact y/n ever again. We’re done here.” He hangs up before your ex can get another word in.

He continues to seethe. He can’t believe that little worm had the gall to show their face again all these weeks later. Steadying himself and forcing calming breaths, he turns his gaze back to you, eyes closed and head reclined back on the couch as you breathe deeply.

He pads back over to you, clearing his throat to announce his presence to prevent you from startling. You slowly crack your eyes open at his large form in front of you.

He kneels in front of you again, resuming the position with your hands in his.

Your voice is small and a little cracked as you speak.“What did they want?”

“They want their worthless stuff back. Why they couldn’t do this weeks ago is beyond me. Regardless, they want their shit.”

Your eyes widen in panic a bit. They’re going to come here? You don’t know if you can handle seeing them again.

Mingi squeezes your hands again. “Don’t worry, they’re not getting within 100 yards of you, I promise. We’ll gather everything and leave it outside so you don’t have to interact with them at all. I’m making them send me a list of everything.”

At this, your breathing evens out a bit, shoulders sagging in relief. Mingi leans forward to engulf you in his arms. “I’m here for you, y/n. You don’t have to do any of this alone. Ever.”

Once again leaning into his touch, you let Mingi embrace you until you feel your heartbeat and breathing returning to normal.

Finally calmed down, the encounter had left you absolutely wrung-out. “Min, I’m exhausted. Can you bring me to my room?”

“Of course, hold on tight.” He wrapped his arms tighter around you and hoisted you up off the couch. Curling into him, he walked you to your room and placed you down on the bed.

You shifted to get under the covers and he came around to lay next to you. You rolled over and rested your head on his chest, immediately being enveloped in his embrace.

He caressed your hair softly as he spoke. “Remember, I’m here for you and you’re not going to do this alone. We’ll start sorting through their things when you’re ready, and I’ll handle contact with them. We do this on YOUR terms. Not theirs. Alright?”

You nodded in assent and snuggled closer to Mingi as he continued to run his fingers through your hair.

“Thank you, Mingi,” you murmured into his chest.

He leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head and you allowed your eyes to close and finally relax. You fell asleep that night in Mingi’s comforting embrace.

The week continued without any further contact from your ex, just as Mingi had promised. You were coming to terms with the fact you would have to face them, albeit in the form of their possessions, but face them and confront the memories and hurt you still felt.

After another few days, you felt that you were ready to confront them. You pulled out your phone to dial a familiar number.

“Min? I’m ready.”

Mingi arrived at your apartment about a half hour later with cardboard boxes, tote bags, and trash bags.

”Let’s fucking do this.”

———

You were fairly certain that most of your ex’s things were confined to your bedroom and ensuite bathroom, so that’s where you would concentrate your efforts.

You started with your dresser while Mingi focused on your closet.

Feeling unnerved by the silence, you decided to queue up a noisy playlist to fill some of the room and ease your anxiety over the situation. Mingi’s presence helped, but you figured that ambient noise would calm some of the buzzing in your brain and under your skin.

You heard Mingi chuckle when he realized what playlist you went for and you shot him a shy smile from your side of the room. He knew you well enough to understand you couldn’t handle silence when you were feeling anxious.

You heard his deep voice rumble out the rap of the song that was currently playing. You never failed to be amazed by the way he was able to follow the flow of a rap and add his own flair to whatever song he was going along to. In another life, you were sure he’d have a successful career as a rapper or an idol.

Having combed through your drawers and found all of your ex’s clothes, you shoved them into a trash bag and sealed it. You couldn’t care less if the clothes were wrinkled, the jackass deserved worse.

Steeling yourself, you moved over to Mingi’s side to work on the closet. When you reached him, you noticed him fixated on a box in the corner. You realized that it was the box of photos and other memories from your relationship that you had unceremoniously tossed in the corner like they had unceremoniously ended your partnership.

Your eyes began to well up with unshed tears and your breath hitched. Mingi immediately wrapped his arms around you and brought his focus to you. “You’re not alone. Remember, I’m right here. We don’t need to go through that box today. I still think we should burn it all, but it’s your choice on what to do with it,” he spoke softly into your hair.

You shuddered out a deep breath. “It’s okay. I knew in the back of mind that it was there, seeing it just caught me off guard.”

He held you steady as you re-regulated your breathing to match his, just like he taught you. Feeling calmed down, you opened your eyes and felt a new wave of determination wash over you. Mingi’s comforting words and embrace bolstered the confidence that you could get through this.

Leaving the box in the corner for last, the two of you combed through your clothes and other effects to gather all of your ex’s errant belongings and shove them in the bags and boxes Mingi had brought.

Your ex had left a surprising amount of clothing and a few pairs of shoes, so it was no wonder they finally came around to asking for their items returned. It wasn’t your fault they were thoughtless enough to leave shit at your place while they were warming someone else’s bed.

“I want to leave the box for last. I’m fairly certain it’s mostly photographs and other paper items. Let’s go over to the bathroom and deal with whatever bullshit they left there.”

“I’m sure they left half empty toiletries that we can just trash,” intoned Mingi. “No need to save any of that shit and burden us with excess bags.”

You nodded and moved to stand, but Mingi beat you to it, holding out his hand to help you to your feet.

Moving into the ensuite, you noticed that Mingi was dead-on in his assessment. Most of the things left were half empty tubes and bottles along with a used disposable razor and toothbrush you were absolutely not going to keep. You had half a mind to clean the toilet with it and give it back to your ex, but decided against it and tossed it into the trash.

The only other items of theirs that you had found around your apartment were the PlayStation, a few charging cables, books, and a pair of headphones.

Confident you had rid your apartment of the bad energy left by your ex’s belongings, you packed everything up and brought it into the living room.The only thing that remained was the box in the corner of your closet.

Mingi brought it out into the living room wordlessly and set it on the coffee table.

“What do you want to do?”

You took a steadying deep breath. Proud of yourself for coming this far, you were inclined to push through and get it over with, but you knew that some of the memories would engulf your emotions and you felt it was probably best to take a break first.

“I think I want to take a break and get something to eat. Maybe take a nap before I get into it.”

“Do you want me to drop this shit off? It doesn’t need to stay here while you relax. The sooner we’re rid of it, the better you’ll feel.”

You were so grateful Mingi was willing to do all of this for you. Cutting out direct interaction with your ex and going in your stead so that you wouldn’t have to.

You loved Mingi so much.

“Thank you Min, I honestly can’t thank you enough for being willing to do this for me.”

“I told you, y/n, you aren’t alone, and you never will be.”

You almost started crying right there. He noticed your shift in mood and came to sit beside you on the couch. You rested your head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you.

“I’ll call them and let them know I’m dropping this shit in their front yard. That’s all the warning they need.”

Mingi squeezed you a little tighter before dropping his arm and tilting your chin up to look at him.

“I’ll be back in a few hours with some food. Take a nap and relax for a bit and then we’ll have dinner from one of your favorite takeout places. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like heaven, Min. Thank you so much.”

He smiled at you and his eyes crinkled in the way you loved. “Of course. I’ve always got you.”

You returned his smile easily. “Okay, I’m going to shower and get rid of some of these bad vibes after handling so much of their shit, and then I’m going to nap. Thank you again for all of your help today.”

“No problem, y/n. Now go shower, you reek of bad vibes,” he wrinkled his nose playfully and chuckled.

You giggled back and smacked his arm lightly for the barb.

You both got up and you pulled him in for a hug. Surprised by your show of strength, Mingi let out an “oof” as you slammed into him and squeezed his abdomen.

He wrapped his arms around you and held you tight for a moment before you let go and disappeared into your room.

Unbeknownst to you, he followed your retreating figure with an easy smile and all the fondness in the world for you, and pride for your strength and resilience the past few months.

He made quick work of gathering all the bags and boxes and brought them down to his car. Dialing your ex’s number, he barely waited for the call to connect before he was speaking. “I’ve got all your shit and I’m leaving it in your front yard in the next 30 minutes. After this, you have no connection to y/n. You don’t get the privilege,” Mingi spoke tonelessly.

He heard your ex seethe on the other end of the line. “Fine. You’re an ass, Mingi.”

He chuckled darkly, “I could say way fucking worse about you. Delete y/n’s number. We’re done here.” He ended the call and promptly blocked the number.

Satisfied, Mingi started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot of your apartment.

Arriving exactly thirty minutes later, as promised, Mingi unceremoniously dumped everything in the grass outside the house. Sending a middle finger and sarcastic salute at the house, he got back in the car and drove off.

An hour later, you were woken to the sound of your front door closing and the shuffling sound of plastic takeout bags.

You groggily stretched as you heard Mingi making his way around the kitchen to prepare the food for you both.

You shuffled yourself toward the kitchen table to find Mingi setting out a literal feast before you.

“Jeez Min, did you buy out the whole shop or something? There’s just the two of us!”

He chuckled “I wanted you to have all of your favorites and enough for leftovers. I know how much you like to snack late at night.

You pursed your lips at him as he continued pulling containers out. “I hate that you know me so well sometimes.”

He shot you a smug look as you went over to the kitchen to pull out plates, silverware, and glasses for your meal.

You and Mingi enjoyed a comfortable silence during your meal, feeling immense relief that much of the daunting task of confronting your ex’s belongings was almost complete.

“Did you see them when you dropped everything off? Did they say anything to you?”

Mingi chuckled darkly and shrugged. “Nope, the fucker wasn’t home and I just dropped everything on the front lawn. Not my stuff, not my problem.”

You let out an incredulous laugh. “Well at least it’s out of our hands now. Thank you again for doing that for me.”

“You don’t have to keep thanking me, you know I’d do it for you in a heartbeat, just as you’d do the same for me.”

You smiled at each other and continued eating in peace.

———

You and Mingi were seated on the floor around your coffee table with the box in front of you.

“Are you ready?” Mingi asked gently.

Closing your eyes and taking a few steadying deep breaths, you centered yourself before nodding and removing the lid from the box.

Your plan was to thumb through everything as quickly as possible to make sure you weren’t destroying anything actually valuable.

The box contained years worth of photographs, polaroids, notes, tickets, trinkets, and countless memories. It was almost painful to see the container filled to the brim with paper, knowing what it had cost you in the end.

You knew you were better off without your ex, but you were still dealing with the fallout and had to remind yourself that it was okay to grieve.

Sensing your hesitation, Mingi shifted and pulled you over his lap and between his legs, startling you.

“I’m going to be right behind you to help ground you, okay? I won’t let you go.”

You felt your eyes well up and sniffled, leaning back into his chest as he wrapped an arm around your midsection and placed his chin on your shoulder.

“Thank you, Min, this feels nice.”

Having his warm, steady presence behind you made it easier to breathe, knowing you weren’t doing this alone.

With a newfound sense of calm and determination, you began sifting through the box, separating everything into piles you categorized as “trash,” “pawn,” and “burn.”

Mingi didn’t say anything as you worked, just held you and rubbed your sides and shoulders to comfort you and remind you that he was right there.

It ended up taking you about an hour to sort through everything.

Taking a deep breath and placing your hands on the table, you surveyed the piles.

You felt, rather than heard Mingi chuckle behind you, clearly amused at the size of the “burn” pile.

“Mingi, are you a secret pyromaniac?”

He chuckled again. “No, I just think that for situations like this it can be freeing to let everything go with a little fire.”

“Have you done this before?”

“Yes, I’ve burned things for myself but I also helped some friends in college when they went through a similar situation. It made them feel a little better, so I figured it would be beneficial for you as well.”

You hummed, considering his words as he shifted behind you. “Alright then. I think to start we throw the garbage out and then take some of these nicer items to the pawn shop to see what we can get for them. I doubt they gave you anything truly expensive, but some of these things might fetch a few bucks. Then we use the firepit in my backyard to burn the rest. Does that sound alright to you?”

“I think that sounds perfect. Are you free tomorrow?”

He shifted again and pulled out his phone to pull up his calendar. “Looks like I’m open all day. Let’s go for it.”

You turned and smiled at him over your shoulder as he squeezed you around the waist.

Tomorrow, you would be free of your ex for good.

———

When you woke up the next morning, you felt simultaneous looming anxiety and relief over what you and Mingi were going to do today.

Letting go of a significant part of your life was never easy, but you finally felt like you were ready.

You stretched your stiff joints and ambled to the bathroom to start your morning. In the shower, you close your eyes and let the hot water run over you, soothing some of the morning ache and relaxing you further. Showers always have a profound calming effect on you.

After finishing your morning routine, you texted Mingi to let him know you were ready for the day. He showed up at your door about a half hour later with two coffees and a bag of pastries from your favorite cafe in tow.

You smiled brightly as you greeted him, hugging him tightly as he placed everything on the counter. “Are you ready for this? How are you feeling?” Mingi asked from above you in the embrace. You looked up at him, his concerned but soft gaze searching your face for any obvious signs of distress or discomfort.

You gave him an easy smile back, grateful for his presence. “I think I’m good. I feel...well I don’t know how to describe it. But I definitely am ready to get rid of all this extra shit.” You gazed back at the piles of garbage bags from yesterday’s cleaning spree, a pang of grief making itself present, knowing what you were about to do.

You shook it off after a minute, letting yourself feel, but strengthening your resolve that this was the correct choice. You looked back to Mingi and squeezed him a little tighter. “Yeah, I’m ready,” you replied.

He hummed above you as he replied “Good. Remember, I will be with you every step of the way today.”

Nodding into his chest, you further steeled yourself into action. Finally turning out of his embrace, you made your way over to the garbage bags. You cracked your neck and hands and rolled your shoulders, ready to rid yourself of the phantom of your ex.

Mingi made his way to your side, catching your eye and giving you a nod as he bent to pick up some bags. You nodded back and followed suit, grabbing the remainder and hefting them up off the floor.

Trudging out of your apartment with the bags and Mingi in tow, you made your way down to the parking lot to throw the actual garbage away in the dumpster, saving the burn pile for later.

Mingi hefted his bags into the bin and dusted off his hands. Turning to you, he clocked your emotions again, ready to act if you changed your mind about all this. Seeing nothing but determined steel in your gaze, he grabbed the burn pile and cleared his throat.

“Ready?” He asked.

You closed your eyes and took a centering breath.

“Ready.” You replied with conviction.

Mingi brought the bags to the backseat of his car and opened the passenger door for you to climb in. Settling yourself inside and buckling your seatbelt, you kept your eyes forward, waiting for Mingi to start the engine.

Not wanting to spend time inside your own head, you turned the radio on as Mingi started the car and prepared to head over to his place.

Mingi, noticing your effort to stay present, kept easy conversation at the forefront.

“Do you want to pick up some snacks on the way, or should we scour my pantry?” He asked, eyes focused forward on the road.

“Honestly, I think stopping would be fine. Lord knows what kind of amalgamation of frat boy apartment snacks we’d create out of the bare bones of your pantry,” you joked.

“Hey now, I resent that! I keep my pantry stocked and ready for company!” He retorted.

“Min, bags of mashmallows and the odd can of soup don’t exactly create the most enticing meals,” you chuckled as he pouted.

“Fine, I guess you’ll never know the joys of my culinary prowess,” Mingi sighed.

You laughed, keeping up the conversation as you pulled up to the grocery store for snacks.

“Would it be too gauche to roast marshmallows and hotdogs over the fire?” You pondered.

Mingi let out a loud cackle at the idea. “No, I don’t think so. But if you had a hesitation in doing so, I say we stick with the basic gathering foods. Chips and dip, perhaps charcuterie?”

“Now you sound pretentious. A whole charcuterie spread as we burn photos of my ex. Should we add aperol spritzers to the mix?” You giggled.

“You laugh, but that sounds perfectly lovely for an evening like this,” shrugged Mingi.

“Alright fine, you pick the snacks and I’ll go along with what you decide,” you acquiesce, not particularly caring what you eat, as your appetite had fluctuated throughout the day.

Finally packed back into the car, you and Mingi rode in companionable silence back to his apartment, the radio playing a calming playlist in the background.

As you arrived at Mingi’s, he grabbed all the groceries while you grabbed the bags holding your tainted memories.

Bringing everything around the back to the patio, you settled yourself in one of the Adirondack chairs while Mingi puttered around setting up the snacks.

Once he was confident in his snack spread, he turned to assess your mood.

“How are you feeling?” As asked as he came to kneel in front of you.

“I’m…surprisingly okay I think.” You looked up into his earnest eyes and felt the warmth radiating out of him. You once again felt overwhelmed gratitude at having Mingi in your life.

Reaching out to place your palm on his cheek, you regarded him in a soft voice. “Thank you for doing this with me, it means the world to me to have you in my corner.”

Mingi smiled and leaned into your palm. “Best friends for life, remember? I’ve always got your back just like I know you’ve got mine.”

You smiled and allowed yourself this moment of comfort.

Finally ready, you dropped your hand and nodded up to Mingi. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Mingi nodded in return and set to work starting the fire in the pit.

You watched as he expertly set the kindling in place between the wooden logs, allowing it to catch fire and create a beautiful, warm fire.

Once the fire was going strong, you finally stood up and stared into the embers.

Were you ready for this? Could you bring yourself to place all of these memories into the flames?

Mingi, sensing your hesitation, made his way to your side and placed his large palm on your shoulder, channeling his support into you.

You heard him quietly in your ear. “It’s okay. You can do this. Burn it.”

Feeling the comfort of his warm palm on your skin, you shook off the doubt and hesitation, ready to start this next phase of your life.

You turned to the bags, opening up the first one and grabbing the first photo you saw.

It was a lovely shot of you and your partner standing beneath the beautiful blooms of a cherry blossom tree. An image that once evoked so much happiness and comfort in you now felt hollow.

You allowed yourself to mourn the peace this image once brought you, tracing your hand over the memories of what once was. Then, with a steady hand, you brought the image forward, and slowly lowered it into the flickering flames.

Allowing the picture to catch fire at the ends, the flame slowly licking its way up through the center of the photo, taking with it the image of your ex.

Once the flames reached your visage, you carefully dropped it into the fire, letting it engulf the rest of the photo, erasing it from existence.

You allowed tears to leak from the corner of your eyes, a mixture of sadness and cathartic release taking over your emotions.

Throughout this, Mingi’s hand stayed firmly planted on your shoulder, bolstering you. He knew how hard this was for you, and he was so proud of you for taking this first step.

You leaned back, allowing Mingi’s arms to encircle you as you cried for what once was, for the last time.

After a while, the tears dried up and you and Mingi pulled some chairs closer to the fire so that you could snack while dropping memories into the flames.

You told stories associated with the photos and other mementos, allowing yourself to feel as you dropped each reminder into the fire, watching as each piece of your old relationship turned to ash.

Mingi stayed strong next to you, listening intently and keeping a hold on you in any way that he could, be it holding your hand, touching your arm, or putting an arm around your shoulders, keeping his promise to not leave you alone through this.

Eventually, the snacks ran out and the number of photos in the bags dwindled down to one single image remaining.

It was a candid shot you had taken of your ex, one you had adored and kept close to you at your workstation. You gazed upon the photo, once again allowing yourself to feel and remember, building up the emotion to let it release in a mix of blue and red flames. Ready to let it burn.

Touching the tip of the photo to the fire, you coaxed the flames to consume the last image. Placing it delicately on the wood, you watched as the corners of the photo met in the middle, turning what remained into a pile of embers.

It was done. You were finally free of your ex.

Sitting back, but keeping your eyes on the flames, you felt Mingi embrace you once again.

“I’m really proud of you, you know. You did it. You are free of them, free to live your life on your own terms. I can wait to see you continue to grow from here,” he murmured into the dusk.

You felt an overwhelming surge of gratitude once again. The love you feel for your best friend bursting out of you into a comforting warm glow you always associated with Mingi.

“Thank you Mingi, for everything. Always.”

Resting your head on Mingi’s shoulder, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, reveling in the smell of a bonfire and the warm embrace of your best friend as he pulled you closer. Opening your eyes, you watched the whispers of memories turn into nothing but a pile of ash and fading embers.

You stayed like this for hours, soaking in the comfort of friendship and embracing the strength derived from overcoming grief.

As you gazed in the dying embers of memories of a life once lived, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace finally settle deep in your bones.

Rising from the ashes of despair, from this day forward, you are reborn anew.

[twizzytalks]

Yes absolutely you’re so right, but may I add onto this in a different direction?

Think about how difficult it would be to describe these places, while trying to acknowledge/maintain all of the additions/changes that happened in all the comics over the years. Not just BatmanTM comics, but like, every Gotham/Batman-related comic.

(Same goes for places like the watchtower, like you mentioned, but idk anything about anything that’s not Batman-related, so I’m gonna avoid that)

Imagine all of the different writers and artists over the years who have added onto/changed the lore and designs of these places, all of the changes and contradictions that would pop up. (Imagine if someone tried to archive every single version and change?? Would drive that person insane, I fear.)

For example, I like to think about the absolute chaos that is the ground underneath Gotham City. All of the different batcaves, sewers, cave systems, catacombs, spiritual sites, lava pits, lazarus pits, owl mazes, ivy’s (remnants of) eden, villain hideouts, etc that have been introduced over the decades. That city is built on top of literal swiss cheese. (If you hypothetically tried to make every story canon at once) (not even elseworlds stories, just straight up solely prime earth stories, and it’s still chaos)

(Side-note: Wasn’t it Grant Morrison that introduced Barbatos and like bat-mythology stuff, and how Gotham is built on top of spiritual grounds or something?? Idk, Grant Morrison stories can be A Lot, so I kinda checked out for most of that stuff.)

Batman spaces that intimidate me as a writer because they can be so tricky to describe and the cost/operational capacity to maintain them is likely staggering for anyone other than Bruce:

The Cave (duh - I like to think there’s a ton of levels/rooms/etc that most people don’t even know about, even the Batkids. how far does it go down? only Bruce and maybe Alfred know)

The Watchtower (do you know how much it takes to maintain this?? TRILLIONS. the rooms, the staff, everything makes my head spin. describing it is basically just choosing what NOT to talk about in a given scene)

Wayne Manor (not necessarily costly to maintain outside of gas/electric and staffing but damn. it’s got so much history in its bones. secret passages, random connections to the Cave, tunnels back to downtown Gotham. and the rooms/suites/floors themselves can get very complicated and elaborate. you could get lost in there for days, easily)

[kurishiri]

18.5 . . . “ a meaningless emotion ”

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— 🤍 his side story, chapter 18. this is one you can purchase on your second play through of his route.

— cw: the very end may be considered suicidal ideation.

Alfons: ...I think I’ve had just about enough of this blasted sob story.

I slipped out of the bed and changed——if I loitered around the castle, running into her would be a pain.

(Today there’ll be some merrymaking happening amongst the eccentric nobility.)

It wasn’t as though I wanted to go out of my way to go there, but it was a perfect way to kill time.

—— Time skip ——

Alfons: Alright then, what shall we bet on next?

Drunken man: I got it! How about this oil painting that my old man said was his most valued one, not that I know anything about it!

Crossdressing woman: Did you steal that? Vincent… huh, who is this? Never heard of him. Isn’t it just a cheap thing?

Alfons: Hehe, I must say it’s quite unlike nobility to worry over the value of the good.

Crossdressing woman: But it’s not so exciting, you know, it’s better to have something that shows its value.

Alfons: Well then… how about I give a dream where “this painting is worth 500 pounds?”

Man smoking a cigar: Oh, that’s a good idea.

Whether it was nobility, drunken people at some street corner of the bar, the orphans at the East End, and what have you, they weren’t so different.

They would find any pleasure they could through gambling, liquor, or sex, so they could live while avoiding their pains and worries.

Drunken nobleman: Hey, Al, is that rumor about you having a recent favorite true?

Noble lady with gloves: Al, you mustn’t become someone’s partner! We need you to stay a star of all single nobles.

Alfons: Yes, yes, such was my intention.

Drunken nobleman: So you say, but your heart’s already taken by that person, isn’t it?

Alfons: Hehe, I digress.

Man smoking a cigar: …Let’s just leave it at that. If we question him any more, he may never come again, and that would sure put us in a bind.

Man smoking a cigar: Even if his heart’s got its sights set on someone, it’s fine as long as he shares some of that pleasure… isn’t that right?

Noble lady with gloves: Well, I suppose. Ahh, I hope my father gives up on matters of my marriage soon…

(‘My heart’s already taken by that person’… huh.)

When I heard those words that seemed to embody the soul of romanticism,

Kate was the one and sole person who came to mind, and for a moment, I felt called out.

——You hurt me so much and leave me in the dust, but now you decide to commit? That’s just cruel…!

At some point, the little robin had made its home within my mind, making an angered face and suddenly turning away.

(Hehe… it’s not as though I’m committing.)

Alfons: Perhaps I do have some guilt left in me… ah, it’s a straight flush.

Drunken man: Al’s win again?!

As I was staring in a daze at the trump cards raining and fluttering down,

just as I had intended, time melted away into idleness.

I ended up drinking through the night until dawn and having a meat pie from a street seller for breakfast, I returned to the castle, and——

Alfons: Oh?

In a stroke of bad luck, I happened upon Roger and Miss Kate walking together.

Kate: Ah... w-welcome back.

Roger: Hey there, Al.

Leaving aside the mentally strong former doctor who, regardless whether he was aware he was being hated on, would initiate a conversation with a light tone and carefree smile,

Miss Kate very obviously looked awkward.

(I can’t even flatter your acting skills.)

She was the complete opposite of me, who had a lot of practice when it came to plastering on a smile.

Alfons: Well I’ll be, are you on your way to a most friendly outing, the two of you?

Kate: Ah, no, we’re...

Roger: What, curiosity got you piqued?

As if to make a point, Roger wrapped his arm around Kate’s shoulder snugly.

Kate: Roger!? What are you doing—

Roger: Alright then, let me fill you in. We’re gonna be spending the whole entire day holed up in a locked room, just the two of us. Let’s get along now, yeah?

(This man needs to get a hobby.)

(I hardly have any intention of hopping on that cheap provocation.)

Alfons: Oh my, is that so? It would appear you’ve found yourself a lovely playmate while I was not around. I’m happy for you, Miss Kate.

Kate: …

I gave a smile to convey I didn’t think anything of it, and Miss Kate, as though hurt, furrowed her brows.

(Aha, you poor soul, you.)

I figured she probably wasn’t clinging to Roger in hopes that he would heal her broken heart.

I knew very well that she was hardly the type to be able to do such things.

Her single-mindedness in facing me no matter how much I refused or hurt her was staunch to be sure.

(And that’s exactly what makes her different from me… I suppose.)

(Well, whether she’ll make it out safely from the basement after being alone with this man is a different story…)

(But it doesn’t have anything to do with me, so.)

The moment I tried to leave, Miss Kate opened her mouth, as though trying to pull me back.

Kate: Alfons..!

Alfons: ? Yes, what is it?

Kate: ...I still very much like you.

Alfons: ...Come again?

Roger: ... (O_O)

It was such a sudden confession of love, I stiffened out of instinct.

(………Has she gone bonkers?)

(You do know I’m the man who played your feelings of love, and to top it all off, told you it was all a ‘nuisance’ and left the bed, right?)

And yet she still insisted on pouring these dazzling words on me; what else could I think her as, if not crazy?

Kate: Even if this all amounts to a nuisance to you... this is the ‘truth’ for me, so.

Alfons: .........

(Ah, now I’ve done it. This should be the part where I laugh it all off.)

I needed to make her think that, no matter how earnestly she threw her feelings at me, they would never get through, so she could give up on me.

(So that these feelings of love she holds for me amounts to nothing but garbage…)

(I need to laugh at her, to deny her——)

My mind knew that, and yet for some reason, my lips couldn’t form a smile.

Kate: Okay, we’re going, Roger.

Miss Kate, seeming as though she wanted to run from my silence, ran down the staircase leading to the basement.

Roger: Pfft, haha... I feel like I haven’t seen you so dumbfounded in forever.

As Kate’s footsteps grew more distant, I heard an unpleasant laughter.

I hated how this man would not seem to pay any mind to the feelings of others like that.

Alfons: ...Oh, believe me, she is far from the first who’s rendered me so positively dumbfounded like this.

Roger: Hmm? So is it safe to say she’s no different than anyone else to you then?

R: Because if so, I may or may not end up stealing her away for real.

While slowly turning for the staircase, those egoistic lips showed a provoking smile.

Roger: After all, it’s not like you’d really care what happens to a toy you don’t need anymore, right?

Alfons: ………

Perhaps the reason I felt displeasure rise up from within me was because the one before me was a man filled with haughty arrogance.

Or was it because she was the one getting stolen?

(Whichever it is, I shouldn’t care for the answer.)

(Because, in any case, I didn’t have such a choice to step even further into her life to find the reason for this temporary displeasure.)

If that was the case, thinking on it was foolish. And yet——

Her lips, which were trembling as she declared how she ‘still liked me,’

the palms of her hands, which were gripped tightly together as though grasping onto courage,

and those eyes that looked so directly at me, as if to say to not misunderstand,

were all engraved into the back of my mind, refusing to let go.

The heavy footsteps going down the staircase grated on my ears, severely so.

For the feeling of a favorite toy being stolen away, it felt extremely bitter.

(Is this… jealousy? Me, of all people? But, how?)

The notion of getting something I said I didn’t need taken away, and then still feeling displeased over it and whatnot, was much like a child’s selfishness.

And besides——

(…The most I was able to do was imitate love, feeling nothing but emotional disconnect.)

Alfons: …I suppose the biggest mystery to one is themself.

Labeling the jealousy I felt that bubbled up from somewhere in me as ‘meaningless,’ I threw it behind me.

Thinking on it more would only make my helplessness more clear than it already was.

Hoping to idle the time away, I walked to my room, when all of a sudden, a certain question came to mind.

(Come to think of it, if they’re not doing anything shady, then what in the world are those two doing in the basement…?)

For a moment, I felt a sense of unease.

Miss Kate, who had said she ‘still liked me,’

was with Roger, the one who spouted off some nonsense about ‘changing fates’ and whatnot,

and they were in the basement, where a lot of documents concerning ‘Cursed ones’ were abundant, which would mean…

Alfons: …Now that just can’t be. She wouldn’t be so much a fool as to not know when to not give up, would she.

I denied it with my voice, but my chest got more and more filled with that uneasy feeling.

(What if, even after I pushed her away this far, it was already too late?)

(What if she poured even more of her feelings into me, continuing to spend more time with me——?)

Alfons: …Should that time ever come,

A: Perhaps I should simply up and disappear, just like that.

← back next →

masterlist🪞 ╱ ko-fi ☕️ ╱ comms 🤍

NOTE: this is the last his side story i will translate, and the last chapter i will translate concerning alfons main story. thank you for accompanying me so long in this translation, to those who have read it all! it really means a lot to me! i enjoy translating for al lots, and i hope that came through as you were reading overall 🥹🙏

to those who will be reading his route in en, i hope you enjoy what this roller coaster of a route has to offer! theres a lot of complexities woven into his route thats sure give you something to think about. i translated this last chapter to close off the project, putting in my best wishes for you 🫶

i have heard from those who have read what i did for elbies main story that reading my tl has helped enhance their reading experience in en, and i hope this can do the same for you! or if you cant afford the premium stories or dont want to grind for these his side stories, i hope i could provide a way for you to access them more freely. again, thank you to everyone who has supported me, read my tls, interacted with these posts, etc.

its largely thanks to you that i can close this project and look back on it with positive memories! 🪞🤍✨

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ tags🏷️ ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ @drachonia

[distort-opia]

Thoughts on The War Within from the Joker 80th anniversary special?

Ah, Tomasi's little meta take on the neverending battle between Batman and Joker!

It's a lot like Bermejo's "Two Fell Into The Hornet's Nest"-- one big metaphor and tribute to the dynamic between Batman and Joker, with a focus on Joker's perspective. The short story is, after all, part of a Joker anthology. It's told in the rhythm and cadence of poetry, which is quite enjoyable, but it's nothing that hasn't been said before.

To be honest, I think the last two pages are what's interesting: the ending. The rest is a journey through all the forms Joker has taken in different media and stories, in his fight with Batman:

We get Leto's Joker, Arkham games Joker, New 52's Joker... and so on. The idea is that the faces change, but the war stays the same.

But the last two pages go like this:

And now is where you think "Oh, Batman is wearing a device that protects him from Joker gas all along". The text specifically and intentionally says "Where oh where does the green gas flow?" The bar we see in the device as red is not alerting anything before, it's only red in the last pages. And so, when The Killing Joke!Joker shoots Batman and then removes the air purifying device, the person who gets up is a Joker-infected Batman. Joker beats Batman by making Batman become him.

And um... somehow I got even longer than the post already is, so I'm putting more elaboration on the ending under the cut.

"The more I walk in your skin, the more I learn how to beat you." There's multiple layers to this... Batman, by virtue of who he is in the narrative, has to stay the same-- unmoving, moral, the hero of the story who kills no one. But Joker is an embodiment of chaos; he doesn't stay the same, he evolves. We see him take on different forms and committing various horrifying deeds which, at the end of the day, make him a stronger and versatile villain. This is a sentiment we've seen before, even recently with Zdarsky's take on them: Joker could kill Batman anytime he wanted. As a villain, he's got a freedom that Batman, being the rule-governed protagonist of the story, does not. What stops him from ending the battle is the love of his enemy.

But how does Joker beat Batman? It's by Batman becoming him, and this is framed as a sort of inevitability. It's what makes Joker smile more than anything, with the last panel being Batman-as-Joker cutting a smile into his own face with a batarang. They're the same person at different points in time, and the "war within" is pretty much saying "there's two wolves inside me". There's just one me in this equation, and the war is between Batman and Joker: two sides of the same entity. Heh... I included that first panel for a reason. If you go back, you'll see Bruce's eyes are clearly green. One could argue Batman was Joker from the start.

The Medusa reference is the last layer and something I'm not sure about, honestly. A fair maiden who becomes a monster and whose gaze turns anyone to stone... that might be what it tries to say. Since this is Joker's perspective, it might suggest the corruption of innocence. Medusa doesn't turn into a villain because she wants to, it's a betrayal that leads to it; she's a victim who becomes a villain. But to be fair, sometimes artists just like to give Joker snake motifs. All thorought the story, we see snakes entangled with depictions of Joker, on the wall, in the textures. I swear, the sheer number of times Joker has been associated with a snake, or has even had snake hair before:

Wonder Woman #164

Knight Terrors -- Catwoman #2

Association with the devil, with poison and evil, etc. etc. It could just be that-- artists going "oh I know what's Green and Evil!" Though as a fan of snakes, I gotta say, I actually like it. Snake Joker for the win!

I ended up going on a bit of a tangent, but I hope you enjoyed these meandering thoughts.

[mar3ggiata]

professional help, finale. All's well what ends well.

simon riley x original character.

'Nothing's gonna hurt you, not while I'm around.'

'You know, I still think about that day a lot.'

'You do?'

He shifted beside her, making the covers shuffle and move on her body. He grabbed the hem of the sheet, pulling it on her naked shoulders, he knew she was always cold in the morning.

'Sometimes.'

She kept her eyes closed, she was still sleepy, and at the same time she didn't really want to remember. The fact that he still thought about that time frightened her. It was guilt, what she felt. He pulled a hair from the pillow, a long blonde curl, 'This yours…' He felt her cold feet trying to fit in the space between his calves, he welcomed them to warm them up.

Me and Simon never went on that date. I'm Alba, by the way. Me and Simon never went on that date, after the bar or whatever. A lot has changed since then and we really just forgot about it. You best believe we had other problems. If everything happens for a reason, I sometimes still struggle to see it. I lost everything. I lost everything and I don't know what I gained. Well, that's wrong, Simon's what I gained. Simon is all I have. I look back at who I was when this mess started, hell, I look back at who I was when I got my job as a therapist and I just… I don't recognise myself. Sometimes I envy the times when I was so clueless. Life's more painless for the brainless. Sometimes I even wish I could go back. Simon is the only real reason why I choose to stay. Simon is the reason why it all went to shit, really. Me and him, we played a pivotal role in each others lives, his life changed too when he met me. And when, well, the whole thing went down. The beginning of the end. Here's what happened that night.

We drank some more, I was tipsy and so was everyone. It was nearly two in the morning when Roman offered me a ride home. Truth be told, I don't really remember what I said, I have very little memories of that part of the night. I think I might have looked at Simon, who asked me if I needed a ride, if I drove there, to which I said no, that I was gonna get a cab. He spoke to me like the others weren't there, he spoke in a protective way. No way he was gonna let me get a cab, or go home with Roman for that matter. He claimed me. Roman didn't insist when I told him I was with Simon. We left together, as everyone suspected. They had been saying it since he walked in, they're gonna go home together. Nothing happened, if that's what you're thinking. I was way too drunk and he was respectful. He walked me to my door and said hi to the dog. I thanked him for the ride and he looked at me with those gentle, deep, brown eyes I love so much. He said to sleep tight, with a confidence he didn't have within himself at the bar. It made me giggle and I almost invited him to come inside and spend the night. I'm kinda glad I didn't.

'I don't like that you bring that up', she murmured, she turned her back to him, rolling to her side and hugging the pillow under her head. Embarrassed. He sighed, 'Why, cause you know you messed up?' She felt burning in her chest. She felt his arm, firmly wrapping around her waist, was like poison. A trap. She tried to resist his force, he pulled her towards him, his chest against her back, both arms around her to keep her in his warm embrace. One of his legs swung on her to keep her from escaping him, he was always afraid she wanted to run away from him. Even if he woke up beside her every day.

He told me everything that happened and how things went not long ago, I waited a year to know, maybe more. Again, a lot has happened, so we forgot about some parts of our story. He told me how happy he was and how weird he felt that night, driving to base. Good things didn't really happen to people like him, and I was a good thing. I was good, I treated him like he was good. He drove to base, went to bed and thought about me all night. He thought about our date, the dress I was going to wear, my eyes, my neck, the skin of my hands. He thought of us eating, talking, maybe bringing Jinx along with us. He fell asleep wondering where to go with me, he hoped to dream about me in his bed. Silly.

She huffed and whined at him, trying to free herself from his grasp. 'Where you going?' He whispered and she scratched his arm. 'You're always wrong.' She commented. They had that talk a million times, he never failed to make her feel miserable. 'You're selfish.' He pinned her down in a swift motion, his body on top of hers, one hand brushing her hair away from her face. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, out of habit, she had spread her legs to welcome him. Her feet rested on his calves. 'I'm selfish because I love you'. He nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent. She circled his shoulders with her arms. 'You would have done the same thing, if not worse.' She pushed him back away from her, her hands pressed as firmly as she could on his pecs. He was smiling.

The day after, he woke up groggy from the alcohol. He told me he couldn't be bothered with the briefing for the next mission and debated skipping it. His mind was somewhere else. Little did he know. Ruining his mood, that is the thing I'm most sorry for. I like my man happy. He sat down in a room full of soldiers, Price in front of them, his computer screen projected in the wall like he had prepared some kind of presentation. He told me the captain looked tense, or rather sad. It was a day he never really thought would come, he had news he didn't really want to share, or believe. Seeing him like this, made his heartbeat increase, he started to sweat. Something was going on.

'I would have done worse, yes…' His words were spoken into her cheek, he left a trail of wet kisses on her jawline, making her sigh loudly, her legs firmly wrapped around his waist '…you broke my heart.' She scoffed and let her hand travel down his back, scratching the skin of his lumbar muscles, 'So dramatic…' He cradled her face with his hands, forcing her to look at him. He liked teasing her about that time, and he knew how bad she felt. It was cause he craved reassurance that she would never do anything like it, ever again.

'Sit down, please.' He felt his palms sweaty, he felt a sense of discomfort. 'We had a…', even the captain, he was struggling to find the words, he looked unease. What in the world was going on…

'We're talking mafia. Uhm… Italian mafia, from Naples. It's called Camorra, I believe.' He stopped to check some papers, 'Laswell and Shepherd have been keeping an eye on a specific clan from over there, they're dealing with prostitution and drug trafficking.' He sighed. This was no normal mission. He tuned towards his laptop, an image appeared on the wall behind the captain. A woman, in her fifties. She had blonde hair, she wore glasses, she had a stern and serious expression on her face. In the picture, she looked out a window into a busy street. She had blue eyes and a roman nose. 'This is Tania Dalla Rocca, she runs the Dalla Rocca family. In Italy, especially in the south, they have very patriarchal families, but her husband, the ex leader, died in prison. She's been in control of the business for over twenty years.' He went back to the laptop and a new image appeared. A man, maybe his age, a dark brown buzzcut. 'This is Carmine Caserano, he runs the opposing clan. They've been fighting with the Della Roccas for decades, over businesses, neighbourhoods… They're eternal enemies.' He cleared his voice. Simon began to feel a stinging pain in his left temple. 'We're in charge of dismantling both families, essentially.' He let his eyes wander inside the room and Simon could swear he let his gaze linger on him for a few seconds. Pitiful. I'm sorry, son. 'They've been in contact with Italian-American immigrants for a while and the situation is escalating quickly, they're terrorising citizens, we're gonna work with Italian special forces in Naples and try to solve the situation.' '

'What situation?' someone asked. He could not turn his head to look at who spoke, he was frozen in his chair.

'So… someone in the Dalla Rocca family is responsible for a… an accident, back in 2013. Explosives inside a car. One of the Caseranos died.' He was about to click on the laptop again, but stopped. 'The Caseranos, the other family, is moving for revenge, they want control over the territory, sure, but more than anything they want revenge. Many innocent lives are at stake.'

'So, are we protecting the other family? And the terrorist?'

Price shook his head. 'No one is worth protecting. No one is innocent over there. It's incarceration or death, for all of them. And the… terrorist, what she is is a terrorist, is someone many of you know, I'm afraid.'

Her eyelashes fluttered, a small whimper escaping from her parted lips. 'You broke my heart, Eva', he murmured into her mouth, he licked her lower lip, feeling her soft hand cupping his cheek. She replied by taking his face in her hands and kissing him softly, pulling him down towards her.

A click of the keyboard, a new picture appeared on the wall. As he leaned foreword, to better see the image, the ringing in his ears was becoming almost painful. He didn't need to lean in, he could see me perfectly. A young Jude was painted in the wall behind Price. My eyes, my mouth, the bridge of my nose, it was definitely me, younger and angrier. 'She's not even 18 in this picture'. Price's voice mixed with the murmuring and chatting of Simon's colleagues, who had recognised the girl on the screen. The terrorist.

She brushed her thumb over his lower lip, he kissed her hand and then her mouth again. His arms kept her still, his hand pressed firmly on her hipbone, scorching hot.

He felt like throwing up. He felt like an idiot. Like a fly in a spider's net, I had tricked him and everyone else into believing I was someone else, Alba. Him specifically, my special Simon. Without saying a word, Price skipped to the next picture. It was a classified FBI file. His eyes scanned the file, reading through the mountains of lies I had told him, reading the truth. The whole truth. He was being set up, it could not be real. His head was throbbing, his blood cold. It had to be a joke, a sick, sick joke.

His hips aligned with hers, he drank the soft gasp that left her lips when she felt him slip inside her.

'This is Eva. Jude. Some of you know her as Alba'. Price gave him a quick look, but he wasn't paying attention. His eyes felt like they were burning thought the wall. Eva. 'The woman I showed you earlier…' That's her mother, he thought. '…That's Eva's mother.' No… That's Alba, no? No, Eva. Eva Dalla Rocca, I wasn't born in the UK, I was born and raised in Southern Italy, by one of the most influential clans in Naples. I have a sister, I had a brother. 'She was hired here and given a fake identity, under the condition of cutting all ties and contact with her family…' Price went on. Eva. Not Alba, not just a therapist, what? Eva. Southern Italy, the fucking mafia? Naples, moved away when I was 18 after a major attack that let to the death of an infant, he read. My Alba? How? An attack? How? Why? It couldn't be, it had to… it had to be a mistake, I was with him the night before, so pretty, so sweet, I held his hand...

Her nails pressed on the flesh of his back and shoulders, while he rocked his hips foreword. Opening his eyes, he took in the sight of her, curled against him, clinging to him like she was afraid he was gonna vanish like a fever dream. Her brows furrowed, mouth agape sucking in a breath. He saw her in that state every single night, and yet it never failed to make him dizzy, the amount of pleasure he was able to make her feel. The necklace he bought her fell in the middle of her chest, a blue stone shining in the morning light.

'Since she broke no contact yesterday night, we have every reason to believe she's going back to her roots, possibly helping out her family. She's our first target.' Eva. Terrorist. He had just asked the terrorist on a date. Broke no contact, I was a criminal. I was hired and given a fake identity. Eva was hired and became Alba. Eva. God help him, so many lies, and he believed. Every. Single. Word.

He leaned down close, desperate to feel more of her, everything. It was never enough, he was never close enough, always needed more. She raised her hips from the mattress, reaching for him. He allowed himself to relax and lay his head beside her on the pillow. She had one arm around his neck, one hand pressed on his chest. Left side, his heart. 'Scusami', he said in her mother tongue. His hips lazily grinding against her, he moaned her name into her neck repeatedly like he was praying. Her legs straddled his hips, she was shaking.

'I'm sorry to everyone who considered her a friend.'

This is what happens when you let your guard down. Now Simon, Ghost, wasn't good with feelings, but he sure was good at war. Next target, did the captain say? Target. A job. Terrorist. Consider it done, then. War was what I wanted, war was what I was created for. Well, so was Simon. War was what he would bring me.

This is what happens when you let your guard down, this is what gets people heartbroken, killed, fooled, this is what happens to people like him. Betrayed. By me of all people, his sweet angel. It was absurd, but he let me do this, he gave me permission to ruin eveything, deep down it was his own fault.

Such an idiot.

On top of him, she intertwined her fingers with his, pinning his arms to the mattress, stretching them above his head. Her movements against him were erratic and desperate, back and forth, he whimpered like he was crying. Making him feel so good, it was her way of saying she was sorry. She kissed his eyes, she kissed his cheek and his mouth. She created a world from scratch just for him, a world where he was only hers, every hour of every day. Hers to love, to take care of. She reminded him every day, he was hers forever. He was safe everyday. Nothing's gonna hurt you. Not while I'm around. When his hands were freed, he circled her back with his strong arms, needed to feel her at all times, her belly pressed against him, her ribcage, her breasts. She run her hands through his hair that were starting to stick with sweat. ‘Sei l’amore della mia vita’ she whispered, like a hymnal. He believed her. He couldn't possibly do any different.

notes: happy professional help finale! I started writing this series after thinking about it a lot, I am new to all this. I wrote at least 27 chapters before even publishing the introduction, over a year ago. I am very very happy to have continued this project to the point of finishing part one. I still have a lot in mind and a lot of things that I want to explore with my characters. thank you so so much to all of you that liked, reblogged and commented such sweet things!! I really appreciate it so so much and I hope you'll continue to love Alba, or better, Eva and Simon as much as I love them.

I'm gonna go back to writing!

enjoy!

mare.

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[redfielddoesthings]

Always, mootie 🎀

1. I'm just naturally shy ksjks, instead of sharing my opinions, I like to share my art, I think my art talks better than me. But I'll let loose in some cases such as this one if I'm comfortable ♡

2. Probably.

Preach! As a writer, we know our readers are going to follow our protagonist and take everything he may say as true, since it's HIS side of the story. I think S.E Hinton knew this as well, which is why we HAD to have Randy and Cherry Valance, they are keys, counterpoints to Ponyboy AND to the readers. The automatic response of the reader is to think like Ponyboy, so as he gradually changes his mind, so does the reader. Or at least it's how it should be.

This is literally so important. The Outsiders is about lots of things, like you said, but primarily about kids – humans – who feel, and who suffer, who want to belong.

I've seen Dead Poets Society, yes, it's another huge masterpiece I could talk about for hours 🌿

I've ran out of poetic quotes from the book about this specifically… 😞 Nature's first green is gold ☝️–

"you can't ever win you know that doesn't matter if you win us you'll still be where you were before the bottom and we'll still be the lucky ones at the top with all the breaks"

Randy sounding almost mocking at the end because he's realized this whole cycle is useless and suddenly he really doesn't believe in it anymore and his anger can't mask that anymore, Pony just listening cause he's known this his whole life and he's watching it hit someone on the "other side" suddenly neither of them is a "soc" or a "greaser" they're just two really hurt and confused kids who are seeing each other as such