#remember when there was things we could be shoot for?

[tender-rosiey]

Everyone loves girl dad Suguru, but what if he has a stubborn headed son

block battle — geto suguru x f!reader

a/n: suguru, you shall always have a special place in mi heart + reminder that suguru IS a menace just a hidden one

you’re sat in the living room when you glance up from where you’re folding laundry on the couch, catching sight of your husband sitting cross-legged on the floor with your son.

suguru’s dark hair is tied up, though a few strands have fallen loose, framing his face as he gestures animatedly at the boy who is very clearly not listening as he builds his blocks.

“s/n, I’m just saying,” suguru begins, his tone edged with exasperation,

“if you’d actually let me help, we could finish this thing before your mom gives me the look for the mess.”

your son, a spitting image of suguru down to the determined furrow of his brows, doesn’t even glance up.

“it’s not a thing,” he corrects matter-of-factly, his little hands carefully balancing another block on top of an already teetering pile.

“it’s a fortress. and you’re doing it wrong.”

suguru stares at him, clearly trying to keep his composure.

he takes a deep breath before leaning back slightly. “oh, I’m doing it wrong? alright, young master, show me how it’s done since you’re clearly the expert.”

s/n straightens his back, fully embracing the challenge.

“like this,” he declares, adjusting the block with the seriousness of someone presenting architectural blueprints.

suguru pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering just loud enough for you to hear, “why does this feel like dealing with satoru during mission prep?”

he glances at you over his shoulder, and you can see the faintest twitch of a smile threatening to break through his otherwise tired expression.

“hear that, babe? I’ve been reduced to the role of a laborer. guess I’m not qualified for fortress-building anymore.”

you hum, folding the last shirt. “well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out, assistant. just don’t let him run you into the ground.”

your son’s head snaps up, his eyes widening with righteous indignation. “I’m not bossy! dad’s just slow!”

suguru’s eyebrows twitch at the accusation.

“slow?” he repeats, his tone almost comically even. “me? me?”

he glances back at you, pointing at himself with exaggerated disbelief.

“do you hear this? our son, who couldn’t even hold his own chopsticks until six months ago, is calling me slow.”

you bite your lip to stifle a laugh, but the glimmer in your eyes gives you away. “to be fair,” you say, folding another shirt, “you are taking an awfully long time to help with his…fortress.”

suguru shoots you a look, one part betrayed and two parts pleading, but before he can retort, s/n pipes up again, his voice brimming with the conviction only a five-year-old can muster.

“because he’s not doing it right!” his tiny hands flap in the air in frustration as he points at the blocks. “I said the blue one goes here, and he put it there!”

suguru drags a hand down his face, leaning back against the couch.

“you’re killing me, kid,” he mutters under his breath before plastering on a painfully forced smile. “alright, buddy. let’s start over. where exactly does the blue block go?”

s/n clambers over to the pile of blocks and holds one up like it’s the crown jewel. “here,” he says with utter certainty, placing it on the most precarious part of the structure.

suguru stares at the wobbly creation, his forced smile faltering. “that’s…that’s not gonna hold, s/n.”

“yes, it will!”

“no, it won’t.”

“yes, it will!”

suguru groans, rubbing his temples.

“it really does remind me of him,” he mutters under his breath, throwing you a look that’s equal parts exasperated and helpless.

“why couldn’t he have inherited your agreeable nature? or at least some common sense?”

you snort, unable to hold back your laughter now. “oh, I don’t know about that,” you tease, leaning back against the cushions.

“I seem to recall you, suguru, being pretty stubborn when we were dating. remember the time you insisted you could build that bookshelf without reading the instructions?”

“that’s different,” suguru huffs, crossing his arms like a sulking child. “that was about pride.”

“exactly.” you grin, motioning toward your son, who is now enthusiastically rebuilding the fortress with zero regard for suguru’s input. “and where do you think he gets his pride from, hm?”

suguru opens his mouth to argue but stops, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “this is my karma, isn’t it?”

“absolutely,” you say cheerfully, tossing a balled-up sock at him.

suguru catches it with ease, leaning his head back against the couch as your son continues to fuss over his masterpiece.

“you know, this would be so much easier if he actually listened for five seconds,” he grumbles. “talks a lot, doesn’t listen, and refuses to admit when he’s wrong.”

“I’m not wrong!” s/n shouts without looking up, clearly having inherited his father’s excellent hearing as well.

suguru groans dramatically, flopping sideways onto the floor. “see?” he waves a hand in your direction, presenting the evidence of his misery.

you’re laughing so hard now that tears prick the corners of your eyes. “oh, come on, suguru,” you say between breaths. “he’s five. you can’t let him break you already.”

“easy for you to say,” he grumbles, sitting up and giving you a half-hearted glare. “you’re not the one being micromanaged by someone who still needs help tying his shoes.”

“then stop fighting him on it,” you say with a shrug, walking over to ruffle s/n’s hair. “you know he’s not going to back down. he’s just as stubborn as you are.”

suguru sighs, brushing a hand through his loose strands of hair. “yeah, yeah. I get it. he’s my mini-me, complete with the attitude and confidence.”

he leans back, looking at your son, who is now proudly adjusting the blocks again. despite his grumbling, there’s a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

you kneel beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “at least he has your heart too,” you say quietly, watching as your son holds up the structure triumphantly.

suguru tilts his head, looking up at you with warm eyes. “guess I can’t be too mad about that,” he murmurs, his tone softening.

“papa, look!” your son calls out, running over to tug at suguru’s sleeve. “it’s done!”

suguru looks over at the fortress—or rather, a colorful mess of blocks barely holding together—and gives a small nod of approval. “looks sturdy, buddy. good job.”

s/n beams, his earlier frustration forgotten, and suguru finally manages a genuine smile.

“see?” you say, nudging him playfully. “you survived.”

“barely,” he replies, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. he presses a few kiss across your cheek before pausing and grimacing.

“let’s never make him spend time with satoru.”

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or I will sleep on you

check out my buy me a coffee!

[six-eyed-samurai]

My eyes narrow. Ah, it appears I am thirsty and I must now go get a glass from the water dispenser despite and therefore closer to this supposed alien killer. Jessica from HR side eyes me, having seen me just finish my cup of coffee; I cough and choke out a little show for her benefit, faking a need for the icy cold water.

The portly man seems oddly familiar in the way all portly men with fedoras, a paintbrush worthy moustache and a pinstripe suit on television are familiar. His loafers, impeccable. His laugh, booming. For all the world he looked like anyone's Uncle Jim, the one who sneaked you a little extra pocket money despite your mother's clear disapproval, drank expensive wine and smoked overlarge cigars. He should not be familiar, however, for this was his first day at my office job.

He's shuffling about, mingling, getting to know the crowd. I have half a mind to warn him not to shake Timothy's hand, not when his statistics were BOOGERS PICKED: 9.5, or to stop him from whispering whatever whisper he was into Annette's ear because RUMOURS SPREAD: 168. But if I go over there....make myself known, a chat or two...no, I don't want him to figure out my secret yet. Not until I figure out his.

Extraterrestrials. It could be a video game thing, I reminded myself as he moved towards the lifts. Or a nickname for a type of new insect pest. Oh, who am I kidding? I must know. I must.

Will you look at the time? It appears I will be late for a meeting with my manager, so excuse me, I think I'll quickly head to level two via the lifts... it's going down?...my bad, Mr. Campbell is waiting in the...parking basement, yes.

We're alone in the elevator now. I'm convinced I know that cough, that ridiculous tie pin, that pig snuffle of a sneeze into an embroidered handkerchief. What was an extraterrestrial hunter like him doing in corporate? Perhaps, like me, we needed mone-

"Why, it's you! I'd recognise that old briefcase anywhere!" He chortles and outstretches his hand. "It's old Watson, old boy! I saw you last at that party at what's her name - Vanessa?"

Ah. Him. I shake his hand vigorously.

"Watson! I almost didn't recognize you without your beard, old chap."

He chortles again and corrects his earlier statement. "Venusia, I meant, that Martian cow who's always got too much to drink."

I nod sagely. Watson was here after all, for the same reasons as me: we needed mone-TR FXX 10073 back at base. I gesture at his statistics. "I see three new additions to your alien elimination score since I saw you last."

"Ah well." He puffs up his chest modestly. "Business as usual."

"Hear, hear." The lift doors ding open and I step out smugly, straightening my coat and shooting him a pleased look. "As long as you remember I'm still one up above you, Cousin, with twenty eight."

You were born with the unique power to see the most interesting "stat" of a person floating over their head. For most, it's stuff like "TIMES WON GAMES OF POKER: 43," or "PROMISES BROKEN: 105." Today, you glance up at someone sitting nearby to see "EXTRATERRESTRIALS KILLED: 27."

[cjjohansson]

i remember.

natasha romanoff x reader - angst, fluff - 6.2k

You don’t know what’s happening. That’s the first thing you think of when you wake up in an alley, gloved hands covered in blood. Confusion filters through your head. 

What happened?

Where are you?

You stand up slowly, your body swaying as you look down at what you’re wearing. You’re in a pair of black jeans, with rips throughout both legs and as you look closer you only notice how the rips have been made from slashes of a knife as your blood is dry underneath them. Your hoodie is soaking wet, your hands going into the pocket to be met with a gun and a knife. 

None of this makes sense. 

Standing there confused you try your hardest to remember anything. Anything at all. 

Red hair. Piercing green eyes. 

Death. Destruction. Pain. Loss. 

Memories whip through your brain as soon as your hand wraps around your gun. But still, none of it makes sense. 

What year is it?

You stumble down the alley, hand still wrapped around the gun resting in your pocket. You stare up at the buildings surrounding you. New York. You’re in New York. 

You watch as people pass by, words fading in and out of people’s conversations. You feel a pull, your body trying to get you to move in a certain direction but you have no clue why. 

You decide to give in, allowing your body to move. You stumble into someone muttering a sorry as they tell you to watch where you’re going. 

“What year is it?” You ask them, panic and confusion filling your voice.  “2018…” Panic feels you all over again. No that doesn’t make any sense. That’s not the year. 

Red hair. Piercing green eyes. 

A name to match the features. It echoes around your head in confusion. You know her. You can feel it. You can feel it with everything inside of you. 

Your breathing picks up, and you need to hide. You rush down another alley, hiding behind a dumpster as your head falls into your hands. 

It hurts. Your brain hurts. 

Everything is rushing through you. A place called SHEILD, the Avengers. Red hair and piercing green eyes. 

But then that stops. 

Memories of your hands hurting people now rush through you. People hurting you.

Cold. Dark. Wet. Pain. Agony. 

Then it all hits you at once. You can remember it so clearly. 

The mission, your arm getting trapped under rubble, telling her to leave. The building exploding. All you can remember after that was black and then it’s the pain. 

5 years. How, how has it been 5 years? 

Natasha? 

Natasha. Red hair, piercing green eyes. 

Her face is now so clear in your head. 

You’ve been gone 5 years. You need to find her. 

You stand up again. Walking out of the alley, taking in your surroundings as you try to get your memory to cooperate with how to get to the tower. 

She will be at the tower. 

She is the only person who makes sense. 

Everyone else is a blur. 

You find yourself walking so fast down the street, people staring at you as you practically start running. The route becomes clear in your head as you finally stop outside. 

Your hand grips your gun, you can’t be too careful, not until you find her. They could still be looking for you. 

As you walk in, alarms go off behind you as you pass through the door. Confusion fills you as you hurry to the desk. 

“Natasha. Where is Natasha?” Your hand is gripping your gun so tight.  “We need you to step back.” Voices surround you. You turn slowly, people with guns ready and raised. Your hand now lifting out of your hoodie, gun in hand like it would even match theirs. 

“NATASHA. WHERE IS NATASHA!” You shout, frustration coursing through you, why won’t people answer you?  “PUT THE GUN DOWN!” You don’t. You move closer towards the man who is shouting. Before you can reach him he shoots. 

You feel the bullet lodge into your shoulder. But you don’t stop, no pain registers. 

“I need Natasha! Listen to me!!!” You beg, you plead. Why won’t they listen?  “Natasha, who?” You wrack your brain for an answer, you try so hard, your hands finding your head as you start to hit it to try and remember. 

“Red hair, piercing green eyes!” The men around you turn to each other, murmuring as they continue to look at you.  “Come with us.” Sirens go off in your head. You aren’t leaving unless it’s with her.  “No. No. You bring her here to me, NOW!” You raise your gun again. Everyone raises theirs to face you, matching your stance. 

“We need you to drop the gun.”

“Not until she is here.” You don’t give up. If you’re leaving it’s with her. 

She is the only thing clear in your head. Your body calms with the thought of her. Memories of whispered confessions, secret nights lying beside one another, her laugh, the way your body reacted to hers, and vice versa. She is the only thing clear. You need her here now. 

“Y/n?” A man’s voice has you turning around. Your gun now facing him. His face seems familiar but you can’t place a name. It’s so frustrating, having that familiarity, but none of it makes any sense. “I don’t, I need Natasha.” You stumble over your words, tears filling your eyes at the pain going through your head. 

“Okay, okay. Do you remember me?” The man asks you, you close your eyes, trying so fucking hard to remember but you can’t. You shake your head at his question, opening your eyes to see him moving closer. 

“No, stay back! Don’t, don’t come closer!” You shout at him. His movement instantly stopped at your words. “Ok, I’m sorry. I’ll stay right here. Everyone clear the room!” He shouts his last sentence your body tensing as you watch everyone start moving around you, hurrying to the doors. You’re left in the lobby of the tower, just you and this man standing opposite each other. 

“Natasha.” Is all you can get out of your mouth once everyone has left. “She is coming, ok. How about we lower the gun and take a seat?” You shake your head no. You can’t sit down. Your hands find your head again. Your gun hits the side of your head as your frustration builds. You’re pacing around now. Even more, memories spiral around. 

The man with you, his face shows in some of the memories, but his name is still so far away. It frustrates you to no end. All of this is so confusing and you’re becoming tired. 

“Clint? What’s going on?” You turn around at the voice. Your arm lowers as your body sags in relief. Her voice is the same, she is the same. 

“Y/n?” She asks in shock, your body shaking as tears build in your eyes. She is real, you remember her. She starts rushing towards you and you hate how your body’s reaction is to raise your gun again. But she doesn’t stop moving. She keeps coming closer. 

“Stop, stop.” 

“Y/n, it’s okay. I’m here.” No, no. This could be a trap. 

“Tell me something only you would know.” Her eyes widen, you can see her wracking her brain for anything. 

“You have a birthmark that looks like a giraffe on the inside of your left thigh.” She smiles shyly at you but it only breaks you more. 

“No, no, they…they’d know that now!” You shout at her, gun gripping so tight as you move your aim to her head. If you pulled the trigger it would hit right in between her eyes. 

“Ok. Ok. Let’s calm down. It’s fine. Your favorite time of the year is winter, and it’s because it means we have longer nights in bed where we can just cuddle and be us. We can make hot chocolates and watch films in the comfort of each other arms. With no one else annoying us because they know it’s our time. Your favorite color is green, but not any green but the green in a forest when the sun hits it just right, it’s your favorite because you always said it reminded you of me. You only like marshmallows when they're toasted over a fire, other than that you hate them, they have to be gooey. You only like peanut butter with apples, anything else and you hate it. You used to hum songs in the shower no matter your mood. You would always wake before me and pull me closer to you and let me sleep for a little while longer before we had to get up to train-”

“Natasha…” You sob out, dropping the gun as you fall to your knees. Natasha finally approaches you properly now. Her arms surround you as she brings you so tightly into her. You hesitate to put your arms around her, but you grip her thighs so tightly you’re afraid you’ll leave bruises. 

“I remembered you. Only you. It’s taken me too long. I’ve been gone. I got taken. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Five years. Natasha. Red hair, piercing green eyes. I remember you. I only remember you.” You can’t stop crying, your face pushing harder into her neck and finally, you allow your arms to surround her as you take in the scent of her shampoo. 

“You’re ok. You’re here now. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” Natasha whispers into your ear. Her hand comes up to the back of your head, holding you where you are, not letting you out of her arms. It’s like your body reacts to her now exaggerated breathing, her silently telling you that you need to calm down, you need to breathe. You take yourself out of her neck, your forehead finally resting on hers as you stare into her eyes. 

“I remember you.” You mutter. A smile and tears grace her face as she cups your cheek. 

“I’m glad you did. Let’s get you home, okay?” Confusion fills your face. Moving back and looking around you. “This is home?” You’re confused and rightfully so, it has been 5 years. 

“We moved a few years ago, somewhere bigger, more private. Come on, let me and Clint take you home.” She starts to stand up, her hand reaching out for yours. “Who’s Clint?” You whisper, holding her hand gently as she starts to walk towards the guy who called your name earlier. “This is Clint.” She points to him, he offers you a gentle smile, your face staying straight as you take him in. You know his face is familiar and you know that you do know him, the earlier memories of him popping up but everything else is blank. You hate it.

You stay silent the whole car journey, your hand fiddling with Natashas as she sits in the back with you. You keep trying to remember, but nothing is coming through, memories rifle through your head but they're all silent. Only she is clear, her voice is clear, her laugh. Nothing else. You can feel Natasha's eyes on you, moving between your bloodied gloved hands that she hasn’t said anything about, to your face, and then the blood seeping from your wounded shoulder. 

You pull up to the ‘compound’ as Nat called it, people rushing out of the doors have your body tensing, your hand instantly going into your pocket to grab your gun but come up empty remembering that you dropped it at the tower, but your hand wraps around the knife still present in the pocket. 

“Hey, it’s okay. They’re good, they’re safe. You know all of them but 3, it’s okay.” Natasha turns to you, her hand finding your cheek as she tries to reassure you. 

You step out of the car slowly, Natasha staying close to you as you finally approach the people standing in front of you. 

“Y/n?!” You meet eyes with another tall man with blonde hair and blue eyes. He was in your memories. He seems shocked, relieved, and also kind of scared. But you’re not shocked, they must have thought you were dead for the past 5 years. You go to reply but stop short when you take in the person coming up behind him. That’s another face in your memories but they’re not good. 

You take a glance at Natasha, her gun in a holster on her side, you reach towards it before anyone can see what you're doing, aiming the gun at him. Everyone stands still, no one talks, no one breathes as you stare at him. 

“You said it was safe.” You say out loud, your words aimed at Natasha, but you can’t look at her, you can’t take your eyes off of him. “It is. Put the gun down.” Natasha steps in front of the gun but you aim it higher, moving your body a fraction so if you shoot it will still hit him. 

“It’s not safe if he is here!” You try to tell her but she shakes her head. “He is good, whatever memories you're thinking right now, he is good. He was taken too. He was brainwashed, he is Steve's best friend, think back more, before the Avengers, think!” You close your eyes when you feel Natasha’s hand touch your chest, your arm lowering as you allow her to take the gun. You try to think, pushing away the bad, you try to think of anything and then it happens. The guy's face coming up next to the blonde man, both wearing army uniforms. It hurts, it’s confusing, and nothing makes sense.

“You’re safe here, I wouldn’t lie to you. Would I lie to you?” Natasha whispers between you both, your eyes opening and meeting hers, your body relaxes again as you shake your head no. She wouldn’t lie to you, she never would. She sends you a small smile as her hand finds yours again, walking you towards the compound, towards the people who move out of the way for Natasha and you. Only one person goes to speak, but Natasha shakes her head and pulls me along with her, the person instantly silencing themselves. 

You take in your surroundings. Counting every step you take, remembering the way to where Natasha is taking you. She places her thumb on a doorknob, the door clicking open, and she takes you into what looks like an apartment. You walk through yourself stopping just after the door not knowing what to do with yourself.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, then we can talk, okay?” You nod your head, words seeming like they can’t come to you right now, the confusion lingers, and nothing makes sense. Everything is so quiet. 

A knock at the door has you gripping your knife again, Natasha pauses and moves back towards it being met with the guy called Clint. He hands some clothes to Natasha, sending her a smile before she closes the door again and meets you back in the middle of the room. She walks you through into a bedroom until she opens another door and you're suddenly in a bathroom. 

“Do, do you want or need help cleaning up?” You stare back at her, you don’t want her to leave, she is the only thing that makes sense. You nod, accepting her help as she places the clothes onto the side, moving to another cupboard taking some towels out, and placing them onto the same side. She stands opposite you, her eyes still filled with tears as she takes a deep breath. Her hand moves slowly to your jacket, peeling it off of your body gently, her hands then go to the bottom of your hoodie, lifting it over her head. When it hits the floor she steps away from you, her tears falling, her mouth hanging open as she stares at you. 

You don’t understand why until you look down on yourself. Your left arm is…it’s metal? Shock feels your face as you take off the gloves covering your hands, your flesh arm moves to touch the metal, it’s freezing. You spot a mirror on the wall moving quickly to stand in front of it, you try your hardest to ignore Natasha's gasp as you stand with your back to her. You take yourself in, your metal arm, scars littering your whole torso. 

You close your eyes again. 

Your left side was trapped in the explosion. You open your eyes suddenly, more memories coming to you as you hurry to take off your trousers pushing them down your legs. Your left leg is metal too… You suppose it makes sense, you were trapped, they were probably ruined, and whoever got to you knew you’d be useless to them without anything replacing them. You flinch slightly when you feel hands slowly gliding up you're back. You look into the mirror your eyes spotting Natashas as she looks back at you through the mirror. 

“You were trapped…” 

“I know.” 

“I shouldn’t have left.”

“I told you to.”

“I shouldn’t have listened.” 

“You’d be dead if you stayed.” 

She doesn't say anything to that, because she knows it’s true.

Her hands surround your waist as she buries her head in between your shoulder blades. 

“I missed you, every day, I missed you so much.” You hear her mumble. Your back starting to get wet from her tears. You don’t know what to say, the past 5 years don’t make any sense, you can’t tell her you missed her too when you don’t even know if, in those 5 years, you even remembered her. And it breaks your heart when your silence makes her sobs echo within the bathroom. 

You don’t move, allowing her to get out what she needs to. This can’t be easy for her either. She thought you were dead for 5 years just to show up all over again. The years of bent-up anger and grief spilled out of her. 

You only then move when you feel her arms losing their grip and her sobs only seeming to get louder, if that was even possible. You turn around just in time to catch her, her body giving out to her emotional turmoil. Bringing her head to your chest, while holding her so tightly just so she can feel that you're real, feel like you are truly here after all this time. And secretly to remind yourself of the same things. She is still here too, she is also real, she isn’t something your mind has conjured up in your state. 

It isn’t long before she pulls away again, turning her back to you as she subtly wipes her eyes and cheeks before moving towards her shower. She doesn’t say a word, she doesn’t make a single sound while she focuses on her task at hand. And when she is done, she stays with her back to you and leaves the room before you can even utter any more words to her. 

You let the water completely engulf you as you try to focus on everything flowing through your head. You need to remember everything, every single moment, every single name and memory. The bad, the good, the ugly, you don't care. You lean over to grab some body wash on the side and the smell seems to trigger everything. 

Memories flood through you, names, faces, voices, everything. Your whole life flashes before your eyes and it should overwhelm you. But all you feel is relief. Relief of remembering, regardless of the bad you remember after being taken, that somehow fades away when Natasha’s face sits at the front of your mind. 

You're drawn from your thoughts when you can hear shouting echoing through the sound of the water hitting the sides of the shower, rushing out and throwing on the clothes Natasha left you before stepping out of the bathroom. 

Natasha is standing with the door wide open as Fury stands opposite her. They both stop talking when you slam the bathroom door to draw their attention away from one another.

“Nicholas.” You say clearly, shock filling Natasha's face as you move closer to them. 

“Y/n.” He echos right back, a smirk filling his face when you finally approach him, your arm winding around Natasha's waist to bring her closer to you, needing to feel her body heat against your cold skin. 

“Why are you both shouting, I could hear you both in the shower.” Natasha stays silent, her eyes furrowing as she looks up at Fury, his face having the same expression as hers. He doesn’t answer you and neither does she, he simply looks between you both and then speaks to Natasha, “10 minutes, meeting room.” And then he walks away. 

Natasha gets out of your grip, closing the door when Fury moves away. She stays quiet again, her back facing you as she stays with her back to you. The coldness confuses you, it hurts just as much. 

“We should head to the meeting room.” She finally says, her back still to you. “Nat, what’s, what’s wrong?” You whisper, placing your hand on her shoulder but you're met with her shrugging it off and moving away from you. 

“You were dead, for 5 years, to me, to all of us, you were dead. I grieved you, I put flowers on your empty grave every week. Every week since your funeral. For a whole year, I couldn’t go on missions, I couldn’t work. I didn’t leave the tower until your funeral, and then after that, I didn’t leave my room for 3 months. I then didn't go on missions for 6 months either, because you were dead. And I, I hated you for that, I hated that you made me leave, I hated that you radioed Tony to come and get me and I hated that we were forced to leave without even looking for your body. I hated that when I finally found the strength to pack your stuff away, I found a ring in your shoes. And right now, god I am so fucking happy and relieved you're alive but…” She breathes, she wipes her eyes and she meets your eyes, and the look in them breaks you. 

“But, I have now lived 5 long years without you and I’m not the ‘me’ you remember or know, Y/n. I’m not.” 

“I remembered you, Natasha, I woke up in an alley not even knowing what year it was and all I could remember was you. I remember YOU. I can- let me get to know who you are now, let me, let me remember you for who you are now.” You beg her, you need her. Especially now.

“You remembered the old me, Y/n. I’m not someone who you can love anymore. I’m not, that’s gone, that person died the day that you died.”

“Natasha…”

“We need to go to the meeting room.” She tries to deflect.

“I want to talk to you more than talking to Fury.”

“I can’t do this right now, please. Just please, let me take this in, you're here and you're alive and I don’t, I can’t process this right now.” She opens the door and walks out, the conversation over with. 

She leads you down to the meeting room, walking in front of you the whole time, every time you try to match her pace she only walks faster to get further away from you. You hate the distance between you both but you do understand it, as much as it hurts. She needs to process this, you’ve been gone, a lot has happened in those years and you can’t force her to stay if she doesn’t want to. So you’re not shocked when she walks you into the meeting room and leaves immediately after. 

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

You tell Fury everything. How you somehow survived the explosion, and how you remember your body being pulled from the rubble, thinking it was SHEILD but it wasn't. You tell him about the months of tests completed on you, the super soldier serum that now floods through your veins. You tell him every mission you remember, the dates, the countries, the kills. He takes you to the med bay next, and more blood is taken from you as you show them your new leg and arm, they pay close attention to the scars covering your body and you try not to cower away at that. After he is done with that he takes you to the gym, making you run the fastest you can, lifting the heaviest weights you can. You ignore the looks of shock on his and Marias faces as they write everything down. 

When you finally land back in the meeting room, you all sit in silence. Fury and Maria, continuously look at each other and then back to you. You sit back twirling your thumbs as you wait for them to say anything. And Maria is the first one to choke. 

“How do you feel? You couldn't remember anything but Natasha 5 hours ago.” I shrug my shoulders trying to find the right words to say. 

“Honestly, I feel okay. At first, it was overwhelming not remembering anything, but then when everything hit me, I was just relieved, relieved that I could actually remember. Yeah, my time at Hydra was shit, but it happened, and I’m here now. And there is only one Hydra base left which I just gave you the location too and within days that will be gone too. So I feel relieved because I won’t go back there. Because I am here, with people I know and remember. I may be different now, I know I’m different and in a week I could be feeling completely different, so if and when I do feel different, I will come straight to Maria. I promise, I am here and I am present.” I lay my hands on the table as I finish talking, Fury and Maria nodding their heads at my words. 

“I’ll sort out your death certificate. I’ll sort out your bank account and ID, all of that stuff. You’ll have it within a day. Oh, and all of your pension that we owed you for being dead I guess.” Fury tells you, standing up and leaving, but not without placing his hand on your shoulder and saying, “I’m glad you're back Y/n.”

Maria stays sitting for longer, her hands fiddling with paperwork as she gets it all together. You know she wants to say something, but you know she won’t. “So, Natasha kind of hates me, I guess.” You try to break the silence, but Maria's sighing makes her stop her movements. 

“It was rough. She wasn’t Natasha anymore, any trace of her was gone and it took a while to try and bring her back but she didn't, not really anyway. I’ve seen Natasha be so many different people, around different people but around you, that was Natasha. How she was with the guys, it wasn't how she was when you were here. But no one could do or say anything because we all knew it wouldn’t matter. Because you were gone and because of that, she wasn't ever going to come back. Especially after she found the ring. She used to wear it you know. All the time, no one said anything, worried about how she would react and then one day she stopped, and we all just thought, she had accepted it. That you were gone and wasn't coming back. She doesn’t hate you, I know she doesn’t, but right now, those 5 years of grief and loss, she is hating herself for giving up when you were out there all along, alive.” Maria, sits herself down next to you, leaning against the table as you furrow your brows, trying to process her words. You get it, like you already said, you understand. You can’t even begin to imagine what it would be like if the roles were the other way. Honestly, you would probably react the same way she is. 

“It wasn’t her fault.” You whisper, tears building in your eyes.

“To her, it is, was her fault. So what are you going to do about it, super soldier?”

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

You had been at the compound for a week now. It had been good, fun even. You knew most people, that is the original 6 of the Avengers. It was nice to be with them again, joking and laughing like you did all those years ago. It also helped that some new additions to the team were also nice.

It would have only been perfect if Natasha was there too but she wasn't. She had disappeared when you finally came out of your meeting with Fury and Maria, and it didn't surprise you when Clint was also gone. You knew where they were, at Clint’s farm. She needed space, you understood that but you wished she at least told you she had left, but you had to realize she didn't owe you that at all. 

It was by the second week at the compound that it then started to feel like you were now intruding into Natasha's life without you. She still hadn't come home. The constant thoughts of just leaving so she could come back were always floating around your head but another part also kept telling you that she just needs to process this and then she will be home, she will be back and it will all be okay. 

It was so conflicting, the constant back and forth. You wanted, no needed to call her but knew you shouldn’t. It kept you up most nights, resulting in you ending up falling asleep on the couch instead of in your cozy new bedroom, courtesy of Tony, it felt weird sleeping in a bed without her. It might have been 5 years, but in those 5 years, you hadn't even slept in a bed. It just never felt right, you didn't know what to do with your arms, and you didn't know how to lay. It was as if you could only exist with your arms surrounding her and it was tearing you apart.

By the third week, you were begging Maria for permission to use a jet. Natasha hadn’t answered any of your calls, texts, or even emails. Neither had Clint. Everyone could see it was affecting you, they all kept trying to tell you she would be back when she was ready but at this point, it didn't feel like she was coming back. Clint showed up in the middle of the third week, you tried speaking to him about Natasha but he wouldn’t budge. He wouldn’t answer any of your questions, but he could hear and see the distress. You felt erratic, you didn’t feel like yourself and it was making it all worse. He wouldn’t let you see her or speak to her, he wouldn’t even say her name. He wouldn’t even tell you if she was safe, and that’s when you lost it. 

You had him pinned against a way, Bucky and Steve on either side of you trying to pry you off of him but even with their strength, you didn't move a muscle. And finally, when Clint realized you weren’t going to let go that’s when he muttered that Natasha was safe, something he could have done 30 minutes ago when you had asked in the first place. But you continued to hold him. Maria walked into the room then, coming up by your side and telling you to let him go. You could hear it in her voice that she wasn't going to ask again and you dropped him, walking away and out of the door without turning round. 

It got to the point where the weeks turned into months. Still no sign of her, still no word from her. It was breaking you apart. You completely distanced yourself from everyone, only coming out of your room in the middle of the night to go to the gym and then taking as much food and drink as you could back up to your room. You hadn't slept, and the bed still didn’t feel right. It was exhausting. 

And that’s when it suddenly felt like you were being punished. 

That this was only a fraction of what Natasha felt. And that she was doing this on purpose.

It all turned to anger. 

You didn’t expect to get taken. You thought you were going to die. It wasn’t your fault you lived, it wasn’t your fault you didn’t look for her. You didn't remember anything until waking up all over again in an alley 5 years later. 

She was punishing you, even if she didn't realize it. 

You called her again. Her answerphone breaks you. You cried down the phone, begging for her to come home, to talk to you. To stop acting like you had died. That you have both already lost 5 years, you don’t need to lose more. 

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

Tony was having a party, you don't know what for. Something about it had ‘been a while’. You wanted nothing more than to stay in your bedroom, but Bucky and Steve wouldn’t let you. They forced you up, made you shower and get dressed. 

The party was boring, Thor had gone back to Asgard so in turn had taken his mead, which was the only thing that could even get you the slightest bit drunk. It felt pointless drinking when it didn’t do anything. 

The night seemed to go too slow, people coming and going as they pleased. People greet you for one minute and then say goodbye. It felt pointless. It felt like maybe 5 years ago you should have died instead. It felt like life didn’t have a meaning anymore. 

Everyone tried to get you to stay, the party still in full swing but you felt so dejected and so far from everyone it just seemed so pointless. All of it seemed pointless. They could see it too, the light in your eyes was gone, the lingering thoughts of Natasha affecting how you carried yourself every day. They saw the similarities from when Natasha lost you. It started to feel like Natasha definitely wasn’t coming back and everyone else finally started to agree. 

The party had been over for a few hours now, the clock reading 3:23 am. The room was still a mess but it felt fitting that it was the only place that would stop your thoughts from flying all over the place. You were no longer in the clothes you wore to the party but were now sporting an oversized hoodie and sweats. You got yourself comfortable on the couch. Throwing the rubbish on top of it onto the floor, someone else will deal with it tomorrow. 

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. You needed to sleep. It had been days since you last slept, you were well and truly exhausted. You just needed to sleep to get your head straight again. 

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

You felt a weight on your chest, your body going tense instantly, wanting to sit up. But a hand on your cheeks stops you. You keep your eyes closed, afraid that if you open them it won’t be real. That the familiar touch and smell isn’t Natasha, that she is a fragment of your exhausted and emotional mind. Her whole body lay on top of your own. Her head is tucked into your neck. Her hand tangled in the hair on the side of your head. 

“I know you're awake.” She whispers, her breath tickling your neck. 

“You’re real.” You sigh out, opening your eyes and wrapping your arms around her back. Holding her tightly against you. Her body fits perfectly with your own.

“So are you.” She whispers again, not wanting to ruin the quietness that surrounds you both. 

“I’m sorry, I left, I just…”

“I know, I’m sorry too.” You move your body to lay on its side, Natasha's body falling beside you, trapping her between yourself and the back of the couch. You move your hand slowly to run through her hair, her breathing slow and gentle. She stares at you so intensely, and you can’t help but stare back. 

“You remembered me.” She whispers, moving closer despite the very little space between you both anyway, resting her forehead on yours. 

“I think I will always remember you, Natasha.” You breathe out, a small smile gracing her lips as she opens her eyes after taking a deep breath. 

You feel her head moving again, so slowly and subtly but you know her, even if it has been so many years, you know her. Her lips meet yours slowly, and your body starts to shiver from the action. 

The kiss is slow, but hard, every unspoken word flowing between you. 

“I will always love you, whether I am dead or missing, or simply just alive, I will always love and remember you, Natasha Romanoff, that will never change, I promise you that.” You whisper against her lips as you both pull away, a smirk now lying on her lips. She presses her lips against yours again, short and sweet just like her. 

“I will always love you too.”

You remembered her, and you always will. 

[dualityvn]

Keith would turn to hypnosis or brainwashing to make us love him if he’s fully snapped…?

Could I maybe please request a drabble about that por favor 🥹

Sweet Vacation

CW: kidnapping, brainwashing, fork harassment

Word count: 1345

You ignored the first signs that Keith wasn’t doing well mentally. When he’d turn his back to you at night and sob silently, you’d pretend not to hear it. When he’d spend his evenings staring out the window for hours on end, eyes glazed over, you’d find things to busy yourself with. 

It did annoy you when he put a tracker on you. The fight that followed only made things worse. He became constantly paranoid, asking to hear your voice every hour you weren’t home, having breakdowns when you so much as left the room he was in. 

There was no doubt that he wouldn’t accept it if you tried to break up with him. You never bothered to start the conversation. You simply packed your things one day, blocked his number and left. 

Unfortunately, he’d used more than one tracker. 

- - -

You awaken to an unfamiliar hardwood floor, head pounding and limbs stiff. So stiff, in fact, that you aren’t able to move them. Your eyes shoot open as you tug on the ropes tying your limbs to the chair you're sitting in. 

The room you’re in is unfamiliar, a lavish living room with wooden walls and a large fireplace. A sweet, mind-numbing fragrance catches your attention. Possibly, the herbs burning in a bowl on the coffee table before you. All the curtains are drawn, so you fail to see anything outside. You can’t remember how or when you got here. 

The sound of footsteps approaching brings your attention to the closed door. Keith appears from behind it, looking much more frazzled and unkept than usual. His hair is a bit messy, he’s not wearing the usual concealer under his eyes and his collar is askew. 

“My love! You're awake!” He rushes over to you. 

“Keith! What the hell did you do to me? Where am I?!” 

He shushes you as he caresses your cheek. You want to scream at him, fight against your restraints, yank yourself away from his touch. But for some reason, as soon as those thoughts enter your mind, they fade away. 

“Everything's alright, dear. You're safe now. I'm sorry about the ropes, but there was no other way. I'll take them off once they're not needed anymore.” 

There is nothing sane in his gaze. His eyes are big and alert and his smile is too wide for comfort. 

“Where are we?” you ask, much calmer than you'd like. 

“Somewhere where nobody will bother us! Don't worry, it's just the two of us.” 

You don't know what he's done to you, but your fear, anger and alarm are all much too mild. 

“Oh! I've made you lunch! Let me grab it for you before it gets cold.” 

He rushes off through the door, then returns with a plate of food and a fork. The sight and smell of it makes your stomach grumble. For how long were you out? 

“I hope you like it! Open wide!” Keith holds some of it out in front of you. 

Thoughts of turning away or refusing the food pass through your mind, then leave just as fast. You reluctantly open your mouth. 

Even when he's crazy, he manages to make infuriatingly good food. You do not complain about being fed the entire plate. If you want to try to get out of this situation, you'll need the energy anyway.

“You ate everything! Good job!” he praises you cheerfully. 

Then, he looks down at the fork in his hand. His eyes flicker between it and your mouth for a moment. Until they eventually settle on you as he brings the fork near his face and licks the part that's been in your mouth. Once his tongue reaches the tips of the tines, he sticks them entirely in his mouth. 

You stare at him, dumbfounded. Before you can say anything about it, he sets the fork back on the plate and turns to leave. 

“I'll bring you a glass of water! Can't let you get dehydrated!” 

What the hell was that? How far gone is he? 

You finally get your brain to cooperate and attempt to struggle against your bindings. Unfortunately, they're tight and secure. Looking around, you can't spot anything sharp enough to cut them. 

When Keith returns, he's brought back not only your glass of water but also a small satchel. You eye it curiously as he helps you drink. 

And once it's done, he sets down the glass and opens up the satchel. It's full of herbs, some of which he places in the bowl with the others. That mind number scent hits you again. Any thought you'd had of escaping is beginning to blur.

As if reading your thoughts, Keith answers. “Just a little something to help you relax! I know you're probably quite stressed.” 

He puts the satchel away and picks up a book instead. “How about I read you something? That way you won't be bored!” 

You want to say no, you want to reason with him, ask him to let you go, convince him none of this is necessary. But none of it leaves your lips. 

“Okay,” you say instead. 

- - -

It's been two days since Keith locked you up in this house. He's fed you and kept you hydrated. When he's not been taking care of you, he's been keeping you entertained or simply chatted with you. 

Perhaps it's your fault you've ended up this way. You ignored the signs that he wasn't doing well. You weren't a very good partner overall. 

This morning he made you heart shaped pancakes with strawberries. It was kind of cute. 

Perhaps you don't need to escape, perhaps he will snap back to reality and release you himself. The two of you aren't good for each other. 

- - -

Four days have passed since Keith brought you here. He untied you from the chair but kept your wrist handcuffed to his to make sure you don't run away. 

It's a pretty nice vacation home. Apparently you're in the mountains. The view from the balcony is stunning. Although it gave you a bit of a fright when you woke up here four days ago, it isn't so bad. 

Keith still insists that you let him prepare meals, despite you being able to help now. You can't believe you treated him so coldly before. When he discovered you had bruises on your wrists from the rope, he cried and kissed them better. 

At night, when you get ready for bed, he asks if he can cuddle you. If you say no, he keeps his distance. When you do give him permission, he holds you tight and whispers that he loves you. He smells sweet, a bit like burnt herbs. 

- - -

It's been a week since the start of your little vacation. You took a walk through the forest this morning, hand in hand with your beloved boyfriend. He told you about the plants that grow here and which ones are safe to eat. He's so smart! 

When you got back, you made lunch together. He’s been a bit down and anxious the past few days, but today he was in good spirits. Though he still won't tell you where he got the new perfume he's been wearing. It's so sweet, it makes you want to hold him close constantly. 

Now that it's evening, you're both sitting on the couch, cuddling as you watch TV. Keith holds you against his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head. You feel safe here. 

“I love you,” you murmur. 

He stiffens at once. Thinking there must be something wrong, you pull away to look at him. A mixture of shock and joy battles on his features. 

“I love you too!” Tears are spilling from his eyes. 

You laugh and cup his face, holding it still so you can kiss away his tears. Your boyfriend is so sentimental. His hand brushes over your chin, silently asking you to lean down. His lips quiver against yours, soft and uncertain. You press in lovingly. 

Even the taste of his lips is sweet.

[livelaughlovesubs]

hello! do you write for ratio? if yes, I would like to request for Ratio + the beg prompt from the event.

Thank you in advance, have a nice day.

Ratio and begging? That’d be such a treat hehe.

Dom!reader x sub!Ratio

Warning: teasing, degradation (a little only), begging, flustered veritas~

Anniversary event

Dr. Veritas Ratio was a smart man. In fact, he’s borderline a genius. At least that’s how he’s known to the outside world, and how he’s described in various papers. When you two were alone, you’d always call him—

You leaned back against your work desk, hands flat on the wooden surface as you held yourself up. The room wasn’t special in any sense, the only eye catching thing had to your visitor, who was currently disturbing your work. Veritas groaned in annoyance, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, crossing his arms before his chest. He shoot a rather serious glare at you, before squeezing the bridge of his nose and mumbling, “listen, I won’t repeat myself, I just-”

“I don’t think you can give me that attitude when you barged into my office.” You scoffed, tapping the table with your index finger impatiently. “Now try again.” The male frowned a little, then sighed, “I want to know when you get off work today..” he trailed off, gaze fixating on the decoration around the room, as if he didn’t want to meet your eyes.

Such a weird person, he’s intentions are so easy to read, yet his actions don’t match up. Does he himself doesn’t know what he wants? “Why do you want to know?” He blinked, staring back at you now. With some dreadfully obvious hesitation, he answered, “if you don’t want to tell me, it’s fine.”

Yes, he knew he was acting like a fool, and that his reasonings didn’t make any sense. It was so different from his usual self. Can’t you take some pity on him and stop looking at him with these judging eyes? “Why don’t you make up your mind first before coming here, doctor.” You said, getting up from the furniture and taking a few steps forward, until you were inches away from him. There, you leaned forward, and he instinctively back up as you basically insulted him, “after all, only an idiot speaks before thinking.”

“I did make up my mind.” he snarled, the blush on his cheeks deepening at the closeness. Yet the expression on his face was more like a grimace, as if he’d seen a bug. “So? What do you want, doc?” You wondered, even though you knew the answer, and he knew that you’ve seen right through him as well. “I want us to meet later—”

“no.” You cut him off suddenly, reaching one hand out to tug his hair behind his ear, cupping his cheek. “Not that. What you want us to do once we meet. Gosh, I thought you could read between the lines.” The words you uttered were clearly mocking, but he wasn’t offended, all he did was furrow his brows as a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. All this was ridiculous, he blamed it all on that swaying, stubborn heart of his. The reason why he’s here in the first place.

Veritas clasped one hand over yours, as if worried you might pull away and leave, and he whispered, “I want you to… do that to me, again.” You hummed, teasing him, “what is it again? I don’t remember~” in response to your playful comment, he squeezed your hand, glaring at you with gritted teeth and a flushed face. Was that too much for his poor pride? Right, he was a sensitive man, you had to take it slow with him.

“Fine, I won’t tease. But if you want something, veritas, shouldn’t you ask nicely?” You tried to not smirk at him, though you weren’t sure if your body cooperated. He didn’t reply for a while, his free hand clenched into a fist before he tried again, “will you do that with me again? Err.. please?” Definitely nicer than he usually is. This boy really has such a foul mouth. “I’m not sure I have time today.” You acted as if you were deep in thought, thinking hard about it.

At least this time, he knew the implications behind it, you weren’t satisfied with him. This time, he was the one who closed the distance between you two, your noses almost touched as he asked with an expression anyone else would mistake as anger, “can you please, uhm.. please hold me like last time?” He was almost shaking with humiliation and embarrassment, why did he have to be this unsightly whenever he was in your presence?

You smiled, still not agreeing to his request. “I beg of you…?” Ratio pondered if these words would work, he wasn’t used to asking others for favours in this manner. One because he never thought it’d work, and two, most of the time he only did business transactions where both sides would get mutual benefits. When he sah the corners of your lips twitch, he was sure of it, this shameful display actually worked.

“See? It wasn’t that hard.” You stroked his hair, eating up that delicious expression spread across his features. It’s not everyday you get to see him like this. “You could have saved so much time if only you did this from the beginning.” He opened his mouth, probably about to argue. Now that he got you to agree, you can’t take it back anymore anyway, so he didn’t have to act all pliant anymore.

But you beat him to it, grabbing his collar and yanking on it, whispering with pure amusement, “—such a dumb little puppy.”

[herefortarlos]

Favorite 911 Lone Star Fandom Memories 🚒

Thank you @thisbuildinghasfeelings for coming up with this lovely idea and thank you @strandnreyes @nancys-braids @welcometololaland @rmd-writes @reyesstrand @she-walked-away @carlossreaders @nisbanisba @tellmegoodbye @heartstringsduet @freneticfloetry @firstprince-history-huh @carlos-in-glasses @bonheur-cafe @heartstringsduet and @goldenskykaysani for all the tags! I read every single one of you favorite moments/memories and they made me emotional and so happy and grateful to know you all and be a part of this fandom! 💖

Anyone who considers themselves a fan of the show, regardless of how engaged with fandom you are, should participate and share if you want!

rules here

Oh, where to begin?!? I am still in denial that it's coming to an end this Monday 🥲I haven't been thinking about it too much which is also why it took me a bit to write this and think of which fandom memories for me I wanted to highlight. I hope we'll all be there for each other if someone needs a little extra comfort in the days, weeks, months that follow! 💜

All the fanfiction, fanart, gifs, edits, etc. and the friends and good acquaintances made through them!

I will always be grateful to Tarlos and Lone Star because they got me to start regularly reading fics again! I used to have a 2 hour commute into NYC and I would read fanfic while sitting on the trains but doing that for 2 years unfortunately burned me out on fanfic and my previous obsession. From 2020 to late 2022, I didn't read much fic. It wasn't until I found Lone Star through FB clips and TK's iconic, "Sure ma'am but just so you know I am a homosexual", that I had found something new to obsess over and love to this degree! Tarlos and LS also brought me back to Tumblr and into fandom in the first place! After I binge watched the show up to season 3, I needed more Tarlos and so I looked through ao3 and started with tarlos fics by @rmd-writes! I saw Rae was on Tumblr and remembered that was where I used to always find fic writers to follow! So I made a new account specifically for the fandom, hello here for Tarlos 😂, and truly engaged in a fandom for the first time! I got to watch all of Season 4 live which was great, and loved seeing people's live reactions to everything on here and loved the codas, art and gif sets people made so quickly after the episode had aired!

And then of course I made fandom and lifelong friends! I started engaging in fandom by leaving unhinged and excitable tags on people's fics and works 😅, as I tend to do, and slowly started becoming mutuals with people! And then @heartstringsduet really opened me up by dming and thanking me for my tags on a fic of hers, and the rest is history 🥹. Michelle really helped me to feel open and comfortable on here and I decided to share my name with people and now I have friends that I know I'll keep in contact with despite the show ending! Some of the most kind, creative, talented, accepting and welcoming people are in this fandom and I am beyond grateful to Lone Star for introducing us! ❤️

The lead up to the Tarlos wedding!

Gahhhh, all the bts we got, and the press tour Ronen and Rafael went on and that Hello! photo shoot, pretty sure my heart stopped when we got those pictures, not to mention the 2 episode Season 4 finale! Now that was a time to be alive! It was treated like such a real wedding and there was so much amazing promotion and was definitely wedding of the year for me!

Discovering I was pansexual and being more open with my sexuality IRL!

I always knew I was queer back in college, although parts of high school definitely make more sense when I stopped to think about them 😂. But because I was in a straight presenting relationship, I never thought to be more open with my queerness? Sure I had those few friends that knew and that I could feel comfortable with, and I had 1 good fellow queer friend at the time to confide in, but I guess I was still learning things about myself and how much of me I wanted people to know? Anyways, Brian Michael Smith and Ronen's coming out story helped me to identify myself and encouraged me to be my authentic self with people! I got my first pride flag because of Lone Star, that I will continue to display outside my house to show that this is a safe place for people that need that, and have met so many diverse and other LGBTQ+ individuals because of it! And also because of that, a good irl friend of mine came out as trans to me first because she felt safe with me! So yeah, a lot of good things to thank a show like 911 Lone Star for 💗.

Finally, becoming a beta reader!

I have been so lucky and have the most fun having been a beta reader for many talented writers in this fandom! Getting to see and help people with their works before they're published, seeing lines and dialogue that I suggested go into the final fic! Without a doubt one of the best things this fandom has given me, along with the many friendships that started because of it! 💖

An OPEN and zero pressure tag for a few people that I don't think have done this yet. @reasonandfaithinharmony @ladytessa74 @carlos-tk @eclectic-sassycoweyes @paperstorm @dear-viv @whatsintheboxmh @alrightbuckaroo @lonestardust @bubblesandroses8 @emsprovisions @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @goodways @theghostofashton @henrygrass @lemonlyman-dotcom @guardian-angle22

[krilati]

They will always hate drugs.

Jason was just about to establish himself as the Red Hood when a new gang released a powerful gaseous drug onto the streets of Gotham. Robin was grounded for something, Nightwing was out of town, and Batman couldn’t handle everything alone. Only a limited number of people were affected, but it was enough to cause chaos in the streets.

For the first time, the Red Hood was seen helping Batman and then disappearing after a fight with the gang.

But here’s the thing—when Jason got home, he took off his helmet, which had been filtering out the drug, and collapsed onto the couch, still in his gear, which was covered in traces of the substance. Batman did almost the same—he removed his rebreather in the Batmobile, and once in the Batcave, he accidentally fell asleep at the Batcomputer.

Neither of them realized they were still under the influence of the drug.

The next morning, Bruce had to hold a press conference for the opening of the Jason Todd Memorial Library. Normally, his behavior could be brushed off as "Brucie" being eccentric. But this was a live broadcast, and Jason—just waking up and still high—saw it. He vaguely remembered he had some elaborate plan to get revenge on his father and kill the Joker. But why bother when he could just go to Bruce right now and say everything to his face in front of the whole city?

Time skip.

B: – You are not my son! How dare you pretend to be him!? J: – I can prove it! I remember how we met—when I was trying to steal the tires off your car! Who else would know that!? B (let’s remember he’s still drugged): – Someone must know because Jason never called me "Dad"!

(Scene where Bruce starts crying, occasionally sobbing things like "Chum" or "My little boy," while Jason—who has dug himself out of his own grave, been hit by a car, fallen into a coma, been revived in the Lazarus Pit, and is now high—desperately tries to count something on his fingers.)

Time skip.

J: – You replaced me! B: – I would never! J: – I saw you! The kid from Bristol! Was the street rat from Crime Alley not good enough for you!? B (suddenly recalling an image of Jack threatening him with a gun and forbidding him from approaching his son): – But Tim is not my son. J: – …What? B: – He’s Jack’s son. J: – Who the hell is Jack? B: – Tim’s father.

(Awkward pause as they just stare at each other.)

J: – So… you’re not raising this Tim? B (barely holding back his emotions, trying not to cry): – I can’t! Jack threatened that if I ever so much as looked at his son again, he’d shoot me! How dare he!? Who does he think tucked Tim into bed!? Who checked his grades!? Who knows his friends!?

(The audience and reporters assume these are rhetorical questions. But Jason’s brain is only half-functioning today, so…)

J: – Who? B (now tearless and suddenly looking a little embarrassed, trying to count something on his fingers): – Actually, I don’t know. Tim was usually the one putting me to bed whenever I was blackout drunk or stuck at my computer. He definitely keeps a schedule of my mental breakdowns somewhere. He’s the one who knows my best friends and helped me make new ones to build a support network.

(All of Gotham, as well as the growing number of viewers tuning in, is in shock. But Jason is fixated on something else.)

J: – So the kid has parents, and they are the ones raising him, not you. Right? B: – Yes—wait, no. Yes, I’m not raising him. No, his parents aren’t raising him, they’re dead. J (now a little thrown off, because he’s confused): – Then… who is raising him? B: – His uncle. J: – You never mentioned an uncle. B: – Because he doesn’t exist. J: – …What??? B (breaking into tears again): – I KNOOOWWW!!! He doesn’t want to be adopted so badly that he invented a fake guardian! I checked! The guy he brought to court—it was an actor! J (awkwardly patting Bruce’s shoulder): – That’s rough, dude. Time skip.

B: – What do I have to do to make him feel wanted??? J: – Well, I don’t know about that kid, but I would have come back if you had killed the Joker. B (crying even harder): – I tried!!! I shot him multiple times and threw him out of a helicopter into the ocean! He swam baaaack!!! J (tearing up as well): – You really did that, old man? B (reacting to the nickname—lunges at Jason in a hug): – Jay, lad, my son!!!

(Dick walks onto the stage, ready to drag both of them back to the cave and deal with this mess in private. The reporters, realizing they’re about to be kicked out, start shouting their questions.)

[beatledumpster]

The Beatles by photographer Jean-Marie Périer

First encounter(s), 1964 -

(the text below is made up of a few quotes put together, assuming that the photos and associated memories are all from the same day, which is very likely but not 100% sure)

In the early 60s, I only knew as much English as I'd learned in high school. Needless to say, my vocabulary was very limited. For the first session I met them in the office of their agent Brian Epstein, who knew of our magazine. They came in one after the other, making jokes I didn't really understand.

They saw this awkward twenty-four-year-old Frenchman who looked eighteen, and my hesitant English didn’t reassure them. You can see it in this photo, where John casts a doubtful glance at his mates. Like Ringo, he was almost the same age as me, Paul was twenty-one and so was George. The only thing that impressed them a little is that I lived with Françoise Hardy, whom they were crazy about, like most English people at the time. But don't get me wrong, their success was fairly recent, and to me they weren’t the "Beatles" with a capital "B", but just a bunch of guys who made cool music.

I immediately took pictures of them standing by a window, talking to them mostly with gestures, like a translator for deaf-mutes on the news. Then I suggested we go to the studio I'd booked. As I arrived downstairs with them, I saw this red door. "What if we did one there?" I said randomly. By the time we'd found a chair for Ringo to position himself, the shoot took five minutes. To think that this is now the most famous photo I've taken of the band… 

[At the studio] I decided to stand out so that they’d remember me (…). I asked them to line up. Then I gave each of them a cigarette and a lighter. I then told my assistant to turn off the lights. I could hear them laughing in the dark. I asked them to light their cigarettes. Click-clack, thank you Kodak, I took three photos and told my assistant to turn the lights back on. "Thank you gentlemen, that will be all for today." It certainly surprised them, because they didn’t forget me (…)

After the studio session, they must have taken a liking to me, because they immediately took me to Anello & Davide, the manufacturer of English rockers' boots, the ones with the zip on the side, the absolute dream at the time.

We had been in the store for less than half an hour when the street was blocked by a crowd of young girls frenzied by the band’s presence. We had to call the police to get out. That gave me an idea of the scale of their success. Anyway, I was happy, I had my boots…

Paris, Milan, concerts… 1965

Stuck in their suites at the George V Hotel, they couldn't venture outside because of the crowds of fans shouting their names from the sidewalk. So it was with great pleasure that they agreed to let me take them out for a drink at the Grande Cascade for a few photos.

(Photo 2: it was great to see them having a laugh while waiting for the ducks to come).

It's funny how they all used to ask me to hand them a camera. Then I'd give them the film, so I’d never see the pictures they had taken.

Six o'clock in the morning on the roof of Milan Cathedral. We'd spent the night in an unlikely nightclub, and a city official had had the cathedral opened so that the Beatles could visit it in peace. Ringo was up to his usual antics near the gargoyles, then we headed back to the hotel. There, girls were waiting for them, squealing. Several of them had gone up to the suites, and it was quite like a surprise party, more innocent than you'd expect. A few merrymakings later, they were going to sleep through the day until around 5 or 6 p.m., when they'd get to work, i.e. go on stage…

Paul, 1966

I really like this photo of Paul, so English, playing the piano in a suit and tie. I called him from Paris and said, “I have to do eight pages on you. What day can I come to London?” He offered me a Thursday. “How much time do you need?” he asked. “Three hours!” I arrive at his place and we take a few photos, then we get in his Rolls to take some more in Hyde Park. What I like is that he comes in a suit and tie, which proves to me that he told himself: “Eight pages on little old me? Okay, let’s go for a classic look.” Yet God knows that in what the newspapers call “Swinging London” (a bit of a ridiculous expression, London has always been whimsical) the Beatles were at the forefront of fashion trends, inventing the most fanciful mixes, changing their look every week. What the “I’m a rocker/leather/dark glasses” obsessed people forget today is that when I met the Beatles and the Stones they were often wearing a tie. “Being rock” doesn’t mean anything, it’s a fan’s dream that lacks imagination. (…)

…

In 2014, [Gilles Mora] called me and said, "I'm going to do an exhibition at the Pavillon Populaire in Montpellier with Linda McCartney's photographs, Paul has agreed to come for the opening, but I don't know him, you'll have to come." I explain that the last time I saw Paul was in 1968: "You know," I tell him, "he's been through a lot since then, and I'm not sure he remembers!" It doesn't matter, Gilles wants me to be there. So I come down from Paris in the company of my friend Marc Lambron, who I know will be delighted. Before the "Beatle" arrives, Mora tells me that organizers have been there for two days to prepare the star's trip from London by private jet. Everything is set up just as it was for the arrival of the Queen of England. Indeed, at the end of the day, Paul McCartney arrives on time, surrounded by his family. And in the midst of the two hundred people who greeted him, to my great surprise, he saw me and gave me the warmest of nods of recognition. Frankly, I wasn't expecting it - I wouldn't have blamed him if he hadn't recognized me. And then he introduces me to his wife and daughter, telling them verbatim: "You see, with him it was the good old days, we had a lot of laughs, I've got nothing but good memories!" Well, not only was I surprised by this, I must admit it made me very happy.

1967

This is the last photo I took of the Beatles, at Abbey Road studio during the recording of “SGT. PEPPER’S LONELY HEARTS CLUB BAND”. The atmosphere was already a little heavy, John was standing out, maybe it felt like the end. See, he’s looking elsewhere. With Michel Taittinger and my assistant Marianne Haas, we had set up an improvised photo studio inside Abbey Road, adjoining the one in which they were working. The difficulty was to get all four of them together. There was always one or two talking to the angels on the roof.

Three weeks later I returned to their manager’s office, to show them the shots, to pick record sleeves for the English market. I was accompanied by my sister Anne-Marie. In another room, the band were listening to “Penny Lane”, a song from their new album “Magical Mystery Tour”, about to be released. While waiting for them, I chatted with Brian. When they arrived, I showed them the photos, they made their choice, they were happy; but what did we do after? I can’t remember. What I do know is that a few days later I had a fight with John, and I never saw him again. I’ve always regretted it.

Many more photos (but watermarked) : https://www.photo12.com/fr/images?search=beatles&col=jmp

[fellominaarcher]

GOT MARRIED - YOO JIMIN / KARINA AESPA X FEM READER

11. Away From You

We Got Married, entering 9th month

So much has happened since the seventh month of shooting We Got Married reality show.

Despite the fact that the show is currently in production, Jimin and Y/N must continue to fulfil their idol duties.

Y/N was always eager to discuss the girl's confession because she was intrigued by it.

To the point, it bothered her and made her unhappy at times.

Jimin remained silent as well because she was unsure if what she had spoken was the result of alcohol or the expression of her innermost sentiments.

She was troubled by the idea that Y/N would misinterpret it, which bothered her as well.

Following that night and within their eighth month as a phoney couple, the show continued to film as usual. Doing things that married couples do together, but without the sex.

DayDream recently released a single as a thank you to their fans.

Their dancing practise video for the single album had been fully recorded. As the choreography came to a close, all of the girls were exhausted, so they took some time to rest.

Y/N laid on the floor. "Oi, why are you lying there?" Dajeong questioned her.

She was holding her drink in one hand and gently kicking Y/N's thigh with her foot.

The lead vocalist gave her a glance. "Ha? What? I'm tired," she responded and her eyes were droopy.

Dajeong made a disgusted face, "On the floor, you know people literally could step on shit with their shoes, right?" she told the girl in a reprimanding tone.

Y/N rose from the floor and sat on her butt, her arms crossed over her legs

She sighed, "Do you think people tell the truth when they're drunk?" the confused girl queried with a somber look on her face.

Dajeong gave her an odd look while raising both brows. If one's eyebrows can raise above one's head, that would be Dajeong's expression.

She joined Y/N on the floor. "Oh, I remember the both of you were drinking in an episode before..." she brought up Jimin's drunken night.

Dajeong was looking at Y/N with caution, a thousand thoughts racing through her mind.

Y/N slowly nodded her head. "Sureee," she answered in a tired manner.

"Tell me the full story." Dajeong commanded as she was invested in it.

The WGM couple hadn't met in days because filming on the show had been put on hold. They still have regular conversations at times. Due to their increased workload, they seldom ever call anymore.

But somehow they still communicate.

The year was also coming to an end. Many kpop groups will be required to prepare for another year-end award ceremony.

Well, another award show is on the way, making this a busy month.

Everyone put in a lot of effort to prepare, and it was imperative that nothing will go wrong.

The award ceremony will take place today, and the winter season is just around the corner.

Aespa sat in their car, patiently waiting their turn to exit the vehicle and walk down the red carpet.

"They haven't told us where we are going to sit with," Minjeong expressed her sadness with a pout on her face.

Jimin heard of it. "It's okay, it's okay I know you miss Yurim." the leader assured her with a comforting smile.

Ningning faked a cough. "While you are missing Y/N," In between her pretend coughs, she mocked the leader.

She jokingly shot the maknae a frightening glance and she also gave her a goofy expression.

Ningning's gaze averted, "What? What? Nothing!" the maknae exclaimed but she couldn't help but smile.

The cute smile that soon turned into a loud contagious laugh. Typical Ningning. Everybody loves her.

Minjeong had been whining about how she wished she could meet Yurim Daydream again. Because it has been a long time since the two groups have spent time together.

Their car came to a halt outside the entrance to the award ceremony. The girls stepped carefully out of the car and walked slowly down the red carpet.

While doing so, they waved to the cameras and posed for photos with fans or signed autographs as they went.

Aespa members wore opulent, stunning attire that evening that perfectly expressed their beautiful looks.

On the red carpet, they had their interview.

Sadly, Aespa and DayDream aren't seated next to one another this time for unclear reasons.

Jimin frowned at the idea and appeared a little disappointed that she couldn't sit next to Y/N.

The award show was certainly entertaining, watching the junior groups performing and the senior artists killing the stage professionally.

But having to watch all of this without Y/N by her side made her heart sink.

The show's MCs are Jeon Somi and Treasure Asahi, who are currently speaking their lines and making announcements.

Jimin was simply sitting there, staring at the floor. She'd occasionally look up at the top seats, where DayDream sat.

Her eyes were clearly looking for Y/N, and the 'newlywed' would occasionally make eye contact.

Y/N was the first to look away, while Jimin would stare at her face for a few seconds before looking away too. At this point, she doesn't care if this moment is going to be recorded and go viral on the internet tomorrow.

Jimin didn't notice that Aeri's spot had been taken by someone else because she was still staring at the floor with a pout on her lips.

"Look at Somi, she's so pretty. Why aren't you looking at her?" Y/N alerted Jimin loudly enough.

Jimin awoke from her trance, her heart skipped a beat, and she looked in the direction of the voice.

Her mouth was slightly agape, as if she couldn't believe what she had witnessed and she's really happy to be able to be next to Y/N again.

"Last time I checked, I slept with you not Somi." Jimin answered. She fired back.

She side-eyed Y/N and averted her gaze as she forced herself to concentrate on the stage; the poor girl was sulking.

Y/N looked at her with a devilish grin on her face "Did you missed me? Why?" Y/N asked and she just loved teasing the Yoo Jimin of Aespa.

Jimin had a sour expression on her face and her gaze was fixed on Y/N. "What happened to Aeri?" Jimin wondered.

When Y/N pointed above, Jimin immediately looked up to the pointed location and Aeri saw the couple then immediately waving her hand cheerfully at them.

It turned out, Y/N had asked Aeri earlier if they could switch places for a few minutes before their group's performance.

Jimin returned to her own world without saying anything. Externally, Jimin tried to look fine but her heart was messing with her and her body, making her feel strange and electrifying things.

A staff member approached them and informed them that Aespa, DayDream, and Stray Kids were in line to perform next.

Jimin motioned the other girls to the changing rooms as the two idols nodded and rose from their seats.

DayDreams and Aespa walked down the hall together, heading to the changing rooms. Jimin dragged Y/N away from the peers by grabbing her wrist.

They are in the restroom down the hall, and Y/N is waiting for Jimin as usual by leaning against the wall.

Jimin washed her hands for no reason because she's a little flustered with Y/N around and looked in the mirror before approaching Y/N.

Trying to get into her element.

Jimin suddenly showed off her back to Y/N, and Y/N could only stare in utter confusion because she had no idea what she's supposed to do.

"Zip it!" Jimin instructed, she looked over her own shoulder.

She was waiting for Y/N to zip her dress. "Come on wife, pull it up!" she told the younger girl with a hint of authority in her voice.

How Y/N manages to be so composed around Jimin, the literal Karina from Aespa, is still a mystery.

Y/N pulled the older woman's dress' zip as instructed, but she did it deliberately slowly.

She utilised the tiny object to physically draw Jimin close to her while still holding onto the small zip.

She took advantage of the situation to tease the goddess-like woman. "Why are you trying to seduce me now?" Y/N inquired in a deep, quiet voice, almost whispering.

"Weren't you just now mad at me?" Y/N added.

Jimin arched her brow, trying to keep it cool, "Well, because I've missed you." she answered it with confidence.

She had a stern yet seductive and attractive expression on her face. Y/N would never be able to get over her.

Y/N is a lucky shit for having such a view, a literal beauty served before her eyes. The younger idol noticed that her heart was beating in a quick rhythm.

"You look sexy in this dress and really gorgeous." those damn praises.

Jimin simply sneered. She knew the power she had over this girl, "Thank you, you look really good too and attractive tonight." the Aespa leader returned the praise.

Jimin also purposefully left her zipper a little open while on the way to the restroom. They remained in that position for some time, but Y/N had finished with the zipper.

She laid her palm flat against Jimin's back. "I wanna see you without this dress, Jimin," she told Jimin in a deep voice.

While her other arm tightly, almost possessively encircled Jimin's torso, Y/N's fingers gently made their way down her back. The naughty fingers of Y/N's traced their way down to her waist and right thigh. She gripped it tightly.

It's almost surreal how they're already acting like a couple while they haven't exchanged no words of love or devotion.

Y/N's arms left Jimin's body, distancing from the Aespa's member and walking away after successfully seducing the older girl.

"For the record, I miss you more." Y/N halted for a second at the restroom entrance, she turned around and gave Emma a last one observation.

The younger girl walked out of the restroom with a smug expression on her face, leaving the older girl alone.

Actually, the DayDream member was about to combust, about to release the biggest gasp and about to fall to her knee that's why she made her leave.

Jimin was sexually frustrated and she realized it, "I wanted to kiss her so bad just now!" she expressed out of frustration.

The night passed, the award show concluded but SME hosted a small celebration to congratulate the winners.

It meant the two couldn't meet again for the night, and Jimin was going insane because she longed for Y/N and Jimin needed her to be by her side for the whole night.

We Got Married, ending.

They're filming the final episode of We Got Married today. Nobody anticipated it to be this quick. The finale of everyone's favourite programme was approaching.

Their mothers must have enjoyed the show as well.

Y/N was nervous, and the events of We Got Married had caused her to overthink a lot of things.

She had no idea that things would turn out this way after their initial meeting, the garden proposal, the karaoke, the house decorating, the magazine photo shoot, and the drunken nights.

The makeup artist had just completed her makeup, "Are you okay?" Hayeon asked, concerned.

Y/N's group members were accompanying her for the filming of the last episode. The vocalist shrugged it off, "Yes, but I'm a bit nervous." she answered with a weak smile.

"Hey, trust me that it's going to be okay, you know." Hayeon assured her friend.

Hayeon rubbed Y/N's back. "Thank you, my idiot." with a mischievous grin on her face, Y/N thanked.

"OKAY, WE'RE READY TO SHOOT!"

The production team had a surprise planned for the couple. The production team are also renting a local auditorium for this plan. They had all decorated the balcony with fairy lights and flowers, and there was also a table seat for two.

Not to mention a piano too at the center of the stage.

"Okay, ready!" the director gave a cue.

"ACTION!" he gave the command to start working right away.

As Ningning and Aeri assisted Jimin to walk to the intended spot, the camera filmed the scene of her with her eyes covered with a blindfold.

While Minjeong trailed along behind them. The girls carefully guide their leader to the assigned spot.

"Okay, we're here!" Aeri informed as she assisted the girl in untying the blindfold. Jimin first fixed her hair and made herself comfortable while observing her surroundings.

The Aespa leader was taken aback by how beautifully decorated the location was and she let out a quiet "Woah!"

Furthermore, the sun was about to set, and there was a candle on the table to accentuate the ambiance.

"Woah, these are so pretty!" she exclaimed excitedly as her eyes continued to scan the surroundings.

Ningning poked her leader's shoulder and she pointed to Y/N, who was slowly approaching them.

When Jimin turned around to see who it was, her eyes lit up as she saw it was Y/N with a rose in her hand.

For the final episode, the production team suggested that Y/N sing a song to Jimin for their farewell.

Y/N couldn't believe she had to do this, therefore her face was filled with anxiety and a hint of stress. Sadness too.

It's not that she doesn't want to do certain things for Jimin yet she felt nervous and ashamed about singing for her in person.

"Why are you dressed up so well?!" Jimin asked eagerly as she laughed while covering her mouth.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. "I don't look stupid, right?" Y/N inquired, rolling her eyes and smiling.

The older woman was laughing, "No, no, I think you look cute!" she reassured the younger girl with a smile.

Even if Y/N half disagreed and still believed she looked silly in this position, Y/N simply nodded to Jimin's answer.

Minjeong and Ningning gestured for their leader, Jimin, to sit on one of the seats in the auditorium while Y/N was making her way to the stage, to where the piano is.

The rest of Aespa members move back to give the fake married couple a space, joining the production team and we're only watching from a distance.

Half of the light in the auditorium went down, focusing only on Y/N on the stage and Jimin at the audience area.

Jang Y/N took a seat on the piano stool, clearing her throat softly as her heart pounded against her chest. Her fingers hovered over the black and white keys, poised to play, waiting for her cue through the in-ear monitor.

The song began to play. The first key was pressed, and Jang Y/N slipped effortlessly into her professional self - a well-polished K-pop idol, showcasing her skill as the lead vocalist of the girl group DayDream.

"You are a gift, sent down from the sky. In this lonely world, I will protect you..."

Y/N sang passionately, pouring every emotion from her heart into the lyrics. Each note was a confession, each word a fragile thread woven with memories she couldn’t say out loud.

Though her marriage to Yoo Jimin was virtual - performative and crafted for national TV - it was real in a way neither of them could explain. It wasn’t just a show. Every month they’d spent together had been worth it.

Karina of aespa, known offstage as Jimin, sat alone in the front row of the empty auditorium, save for a few scattered crew members filming the scene. Despite herself, she felt the sting of tears welling up. This was farewell.

Y/N fought hard to disassociate from the sadness threatening to spill from her eyes. She focused on the song, grounding herself in the melody, determined to sing for Jimin - not for the cameras, not for the show, but just for her.

But Jimin was already crying. The tears came freely, unchecked. It was cruel, really - how the entertainment industry had paired them for the nation’s enjoyment, only to tear them apart when the final episode is near.

They were both young. Both passionate. And somewhere along the way, feelings had tangled themselves into the script of We Got Married.

For the nation’s entertainment, they’d become a "fake" married couple. But the emotions? Those had been real.

"Even the painful memories I wanted to forget, can be washed away with the raindrops..."

Y/N’s voice soared, rich with emotion - the very sound Jimin loved most in the world.

Y/N played the final notes, her fingers pressing softly against the piano keys as the melody faded into silence. The lights in the auditorium flickered back on, casting a warm glow over the empty seats. She sat there for a few seconds, her hands resting gently on her lap, letting the weight of the moment settle.

In the front row, Jimin quickly buried her face in her hands, trying to hide the tears that had already fallen.

𓈒⟡₊⋆∘

A/N: I used English translation of Sudden Shower.

GOT MARRIED

[valenteal]

Ok so I know we all wish there was more reaction in canon to the revelation of Dazai’s past. But I think there’s more of a reaction than people realize. It’s like the entire dynamic shifts after the meeting with the mafia. And it’s easy to attribute this to things getting more serious, more dangerous, because no one mentions Dazai being the reason for it. But I think it’s important to understand about these characters that the not saying anything is extremely indicative of their feelings on the matter. I think the tension is mostly glossed over because at the end of the day this is still Atsushi’s story and he’s kinda oblivious to it. But Dazai and Kunikida aren’t really partners after that, their interactions go way down, their banter is no longer a staple of the series. And Dazai wasn’t really close enough with anyone else to see major changes in his relationships with them, but we can guess based on what we do know.

For one thing, anyone thinking Fukuzawa already knew, sorry to burst your bubble but Taneda didn’t tell him jack. In fact Dazai made up a story about randomly meeting him at a bar and Taneda offering to find him a job if he won a bet or something. Dazai lied to Fukuzawa just as much as anyone else, he had elaborate cover stories. Fukuzawa told Kunikida to shoot him if he showed a hint of malicious intent but Dazai managed to worm his way out of that disguising it as his solution to the case/a suicide attempt. He pretended to be the bad guy to put on a show for the people listening in, and create an excuse for the listening device to be destroyed and gave Kunikida enough hints that he’d think twice about actually shooting him and pretended he wanted him to do it. It’s a very masterfully done scheme really, because Kunikida was so wrapped up in how it affected the case that he miss took Dazai’s innocence in the case for a lack of hidden evil. Kunikida definitely saw a side of Dazai that would make the President say “shoot him” but he didn’t even realize it because it was connected to solving the case. And when he lists off all the things he has problems with about Dazai it’s all about his unprofessional behavior and laziness and he doesn’t even mention that Dazai was so incredibly good at playing the bad guy that it didn’t feel fake. He didn’t mention the chilling aura. Dazai distracted him with all his other bad behavior.

But Ranpo must have known right? Well he certainly knew something was off about Dazai immediately after meeting him even without putting his glasses on. But I don’t think even he could have deduced Dazai’s past with the information he had. Because you have to remember that Dazai’s crimes were erased by Mushitaro’s ability and that Ranpo specializes in understanding crime scenes, not psychological profiling. Ranpo uses physical evidence for the most part and he needs knowledge of the crime to find the perpetrator. I don’t think it works the other way around. Not to mention that Fukuzawa trusts Kunikida and Kunikida said Dazai passed his entrance exam so Ranpo probably didn’t choose to look too closely at Dazai.

Anyway, the point is no one at the agency knew Dazai was in the mafia until the Guild arc. And Dazai’s interactions with the rest of the agency changed after that revelation. I think only Atsushi, Kyouka, and Kenji don’t change how they see him, because Atsushi is Atsushi, Kyouka probably already knew from when she captured him and his pep talk made her more comfortable with the idea, and Kenji is Kenji. Everyone else though? It’s a shock. And a lot of them probably just don’t know how to handle it. It helps that they got Kyouka around the same time it was revealed but Dazai had been lying to all their faces for two years at that point and he showed absolutely no remorse for that. Dazai doesn’t make a big deal of it, doesn’t try to make excuses for himself, doesn’t try to justify anything. Without him starting the conversation none of them have a way to comfortably bring up the subject. And because none of them (except Kenji) knows how to communicate in a healthy way, they just end up stewing with the information without fully processing it or acknowledging it. They’re stuck in this limbo of doubt and discomfort. It’s actually incredibly nuanced and I bet it’s all going to come to a head at some point in the near future and it’s going to be that much more satisfying for the wait.

[starryemeralds]

insert legally obligated “daylight” lyrics here🖤💛

[starflungwaddledee]

I'm just sayin', Starstruck and Kirby would be adorable. But also Starstruck and Meta-Knight might be the funniest thing you could possibly do. :)

hear me out: peter pan (2003) window scene

been staunchly avoiding typing too much on most of these but i have some thoughts about this one!

you know... i had actually never even considered kirby for the shipaganza. mostly because i think of him as holding such a strong and unique position in the hearts of everyone who knows him, in a way that is devout but also seems fairly romance-free. and i'm actually very interested in the complex relationships that he has with his friends! but i wonder if not considering him was maybe a disservice, because if anyone has an abundance of the capacity for love, it's him, right?

i think that kirby could eventually occupy a similar heart-space for starstruck as bandee, though it would take longer. i strongly suspect that bandee's love of kirby would rub off on her, if nothing else.

i'm not sure either of them... really understand the premise of romance or dating, so it might not be a typical sort of thing. but i think they could giggle and laugh together and shoot each other slightly smitten looks when the other one isn't paying attention, and be very invested in each others happiness.

he adds a pass by her window to his early morning flight, on the off chance she might be up to join him. she's always thinking of him when he's off saving the world, and distinguishes his star from all the others in the sky with ease. the irresistible allure of adventure vs someone who has never seen any of the wonders of your planet before. someone who finds as much unrestrained joy and delight in the mundane as you do. eating paper cups you find on the ground together as a love language.

you know i could see it.

[hyohaehyuk]

juliana_rychlikova: thanksgiving with vampire fam ❤️ (2023)

source: pixielayer and jandythinker (Note: Juliana Rychlikova have her IG account private so i dont know how the fandom got this photo. maybe she privated the account after the fandom found the photos/videos yesterday)

It seems they celebrated Thanksgiving at Jacob’s house in Prague

Photos via Jacob Anderson IG

Screenshots: funtheysaid, lesbratprince and pixielayer

[ganondoodle]

is it too much of a reach to say that zelda being reduced to basically an object to farm items from in totk just kinda adds more salt to the wound of how badly shes treated?

[seventh-district]

it's always something. PLEASE can i just go One single day without there being Something

[dramas-vs-novels]

I have two extremely frustrating days of work ahead of me... An event I hate with a burning passion, so much so that they had to trick me into agreeing to work it, and then producing my show on top of all that...

So the theme of the next 2 days will be 'tension headaches'.