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imaginingmarvelandeverything · 2 years ago

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Late Night Take Out

Pairing: Jason Todd (version unspecified) x F!Reader

Prompts: 7. “You’re welcome to stay, if you want?” and 39. “I can’t sleep without you here.”

Warnings: mentions of violence

Word count: 1023

A/N: This one is very dialogue heavy and has been written and edited while I have been drinking, so sorry for any mistakes! This can be considered a follow on to this and this. Hope you like it!

(This is now a series and the series masterlist can be found here!)

Main masterlist

Follower celebration masterlist

Ko-Fi

Y/N glanced towards the window as Jason climbed in from the fire escape. She turned back to her computers to pull the blueprint she needed up and listened to him clanging around as he stripped off the suit. She reached up and turned her headset back on when she had what she needed.

“Nightwing, you need to take a left, carry on down the corridor, a right and then it’s two doors down on your left.”

“Got it. We still on for brunch tomorrow?”

“Are you going to be awake for brunch tomorrow?” She asked, smiling when Jason snorted.

Dick made an offended noise. “I will be there.”

“See you at eleven then. You need anything else tonight?”

“No, I’m good. See you tomorrow.”

She switched off the comms and pulled her headset off before twisting her chair around to face Jason. “Please tell me you brought food?”

He held up a bag full of take-out containers. “Of course.”

“I think you might be the best roommate I’ve ever had.” She said, following him into the kitchen.

“Aren’t I the only roommate you’ve ever had?” He raised his eyebrows as she pulled crockery and cutlery out for the pair of them.

“I lived with Dick for three weeks that time his apartment got water damaged and he refused to ask Bruce for money to fix it.” She sat down on the sofa and grabbed a container, taking a portion of the food inside before passing it to Jason. “He left mess everywhere, could barely wash dishes and covered my couch in crumbs.”

“I’m a definite improvement then.” He laughed, piling his plate high with food. “Have you told him where you are?”

She shook her head. “He knows I’m safe. I didn’t think you’d want me to tell him exactly where I was.”

His lips parted as he stared at her. “I-uh-yeah, thank you.”

“I’ve started looking for possible apartments, I was hoping you’d help me vet them?” She said hopefully.

“You’re welcome to stay here, if you want? As long as you’d like.” He rubbed at the scar on his neck, something she knew by now showed he was nervous.

“Jay, I don’t want to impose. This is your space.” She said softly.

“I like having the company.” He said, so quiet she nearly missed it. “After- after everything that happened, the others are trying, but unless it’s about patrol, they don’t really make an effort.”

She felt her heart breaking. Sure, Jason had made many mistakes in the few years since he came back from the dead, but he had made, or tried to make amends with everyone since. The fact that she was sitting on his sofa, eating take out and watching shitty movies with him was evidence enough of that, especially given their first interaction. So she admitted: “I like hanging out with you.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Even after everything?”

“Yeah, I know the real you now. The one who watches some of the worst movies imaginable and spends all his free time buried in romance novels.” She smiled.

“Do not dis my books.” He warned, his ears turning pink as he averted his gaze from hers.

“I’m not, your taste in books is the one of the best I’ve ever seen. Your taste in most movies, however, is questionable.” She ducked the cushion that was thrown at her head with a laugh.

“Shut up and eat your food.” He said, but amusement was written all over his face.

They ate in silence, only occasionally throwing a comment about something stupid the main character did in the movie. When they were finished eating, they haphazardly piled their plates and the containers on the coffee table and curled up on opposite ends of the sofa.

Y/N stifled a yawn in the back of her hand for the fourth time as Jason shot her a glance. “I know you often stay up for Dick, but you don’t have to stay up until I get back you know. I can get you take out earlier.”

“I-I-” She cut herself off and took a sharp breath, trying to get her brain to play ball.

“What?” He pushed.

“I can’t sleep without you here.” She admitted, watching as he blinked several times in confusion. “In the apartment I mean. I tried those first few days and I kept dreaming that I was back there.”

He stared at her, like he wasn’t quite sure what to say. “If you- if you want to sleep in my bed when I’m not here, I don’t mind. It might help, being behind another door. I know it helps when it gets bad for me. Sometimes I even make a bed in the bottom of the closest, just to feel safer.”

“Really?” She turned to face him fully on the sofa.

He leaned his head on the back of the sofa before turning to look at her. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t recommend it. I got locked in there once by the faulty latch, blew the handle off with my .9mm, so there’s now a hole in the door.”

She couldn’t help but laugh as he smiled. “Ironically, I can imagine you doing that.”

“You can take the bed tonight if you want? I’ve got some research I need to do before I turn in and you look exhausted. Not to mention you have to be up to meet Dickhead tomorrow.” He made a face.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, go for it.” He smiled.

“Thank you. Jay, I mean it. For everything.” She said sincerely as she stood from the sofa.

“Sweetheart, I already told you, you don’t need to thank me for anything.” He ran a hand through his messy curls.

“Still.” She said, grabbing her pajamas. “Goodnight.”

“Sweet dreams.” He shot her a smile as she walked down the corridor to the bathroom, and then to his bedroom.

Part 4

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood #titans #imagine #x reader #curran walters #red hood imagine #dick grayson #nightwing #red hood x reader #bruce wayne #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x female reader #castle of glass

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stars-falling · 3 years ago

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angel in disguise (elriel)

summary: azriel is having a terrible time but an angel disguised in a pink coat and yellow welly boots saves the day.

prompt: a pair of glasses held together by tape, a missing phone and a small, mean dog.

word count: 4.9k

note: i wrote this last year and only just edited it... i have nothing to say for myself. sorry for not uploading for so long, motivation has been a real struggle for me recently but i'm writing more these days, so hopefully i can upload more this year! also, thank you so so much for 1000 followers, it means so much to me that so many people enjoy my content! i'll be hosting a 1k celebration soon.

hope you enjoy!

lily <3

read here on ao3 // masterlist

********************************

Today was a horrible day. During his 26 years of living, today would surely make it into Azriel’s top 10 worst moments compilation, the one that seemed to replay every time he closed his eyes to sleep.

In the scheme of things, the day had started well. Even though he was working on a Saturday, he hadn’t yet found a reason to complain. Sure, he had forgotten to get new contact lenses, but he had slipped on his glasses and called it a day. His alarm had gone off at exactly the correct time. His walk to work was peaceful. And he had remembered all the notes he needed to write the article he was currently working on. But, it quickly went downhill from there.

He knew that being a writer for a popular magazine would be difficult. He’d known from the moment he’d chosen to major in journalism that there would never be an easy day, but coming into work to find his desk laden down with four new assignments, three requests for a meeting and two phone numbers to call was excessive. Still, he had struggled on, rushing from meeting to meeting, phone call to phone call before he was finally able to collapse at his desk in time to start work on the four new articles he'd been given. So yes, it hadn’t been an easy day but it hadn’t been the worst. That was until his boss had called him into his office to tell him that the deadline for both his original and new articles had been moved up. Then the moment he returned to his desk, his old shitty laptop decided to blue screen. All his progress was lost. He had even less time to complete the articles than before, let alone rewrite them from scratch.

Azriel was a stoic man, he rarely let anything show, but at that moment he felt like bursting into tears. He glanced up at the clock. It was 5:45 and he still had 15 minutes before his workday officially ended but he packed up anyway, tossing his now broken laptop, his notes and whatever else (he wasn’t paying attention) into the fancy leather messenger bag his brothers had gotten him as a congratulation for landing the job. They said it made him look professional. He didn’t feel very professional.

He stalked out of the office, discarding the many used paper cups that once contained coffee into a bin and ignored everyone on the way out of the building. Luckily, it was late spring so the daylight remained as he walked down the road. It was cool but not cold enough to warrant a coat, the way he liked it. The streets were surprisingly clear meaning he could wander along, trying to recollect himself after such a hellish day at work. Things were looking up. Then a large drop of rain landed right on his head. He glanced up to see that a dark grey cloud had swept in during his time in the office. He went into his bag, fishing around before producing an old navy umbrella. It didn’t belong to him. Rhys had stolen his the other day and had yet to return it, so he had been forced to search the back of a cupboard for something to bring along with him in case of rain. He was glad to have such forethought as the rain started to pour from the sky. He rushed under a tree and, whilst it did little to stop him from getting wet, it did offer him a little reprieve as he attempted to open his umbrella. He undid the velcro that had been holding it together and pressed the little button that would usually send it flying open. But nothing happened. He pressed it again and again before pushing the material away to see the mechanism had rusted in its years of disuse. He attempted to open it manually but it was jammed and no amount of pushing could force it open. On his last nerve, he swung the umbrella against the tree, hoping it would dislodge whatever had jammed the mechanism. But, the action only caused the umbrella to fall to pieces in his hands. The metal fell to the floor with resounding clinks and the umbrella flopped uselessly open, unable to hold itself up. It was then he saw that the fabric near the top had been ripped to shreds. It was completely destroyed, only held together by the velcro strap, rust and spite.

Azriel sucked in a breath. The rain had only worsened as he stood under the tree trying desperately to get his umbrella to work. Resigning to his fate, Azriel gathered up the remains of the umbrella, dumped them in a bin close to him and stepped out into the rain. Five minutes of walking had rendered him soaked and he was grateful that he had taken meticulous care of his bag over time. At least it had at least some capacity to protect the contents of his bag from water damage. He walked along the road, cold, wet and fed up with life. Water dripped from his hair and down onto his neck, causing chills to skitter up and down his back. The afternoon sun had dimmed to a dull glow barely visible through the clouds and the headlights of cars that came speeding down the road. One of the cars sped through a puddle, sending its contents flying over Azriel and covering him with the dirty brown water that had slowly been collecting along the side of the road. He looked down to find his white shirt stained and water leaking from his bag. He hoped that the plastic folders he usually kept his notes in were doing their job.

He wiped off water from his glasses the best he could using his sodden shirt sleeve but he only succeeded in smearing the droplets further. He placed them back on, uncaring that he could barely see five metres in front of him. He looked up to see a smudged rendition of the park sign. Usually, he loved his walks to and from work. They took him through Velaris park, along the river Sidra and gave him a chance to glimpse into at least one of the crowded marketplaces. It enabled him to see the best of Velaris but right now all he wanted to see was home.

He stepped through the gate to the park and began along the path that would take him to the exit he needed. As he walked, he felt a low pain in his stomach and he realised that whilst he had consumed many cups of coffee, he hadn't eaten. An idea materialised in his mind. Rhysand was currently working from home, he could easily order take out and be at the door ready to collect it before Azriel even got close. Azriel looked around, making sure the path was clear before coming to a halt in the centre. He hunched over his bag as he stuck his hand in to grab his phone. But the pocket he usually stored it in was empty. He continued searching but it was futile. His phone was not in his bag. He patted down his pockets but they were also empty. He cast his mind back to the moment he was packing up. He usually took great care when leaving, as to be sure he had left nothing but today he had been careless. He let out a groan and removed his glasses to rub his eyes as he remembered he had placed the sleek device on the side of his desk. The side of his desk he hadn’t bothered to check when he had packed away his belongings.

He was reaching up to place his glasses back onto his face when they slipped out of his grasp. The rainwater had caused them to become slick in his hands and his frozen fingers couldn't maintain his grip. Startled, he stepped forward. An action followed by a sickening crunch. He looked down to see that his glasses had snapped in two at the bridge. Rain dripped down his face, merging with the tears that had started to leak from his eyes. He tried so damn hard all the time. He worked his ass off, rarely taking holidays. He volunteered when he had time. He donated to charities, he was always polite and he even helped old ladies cross the damned road. Yet all the good he tried to put out into the universe seemed to be rejected. Instead, he was stuck out in a rainstorm with a broken umbrella, glasses and laptop, a thousand and one deadlines hanging over his head and a very bad case of misfortune. He bent down to scoop out the two halves of the glasses and wandered over to the bench nearest to him. He sat down, uncaring about the water that had pooled on the painted wood and soaked his trousers further. He tucked his bag under where he sat in an attempt to protect it from the rain and leant forward, his elbows on his knees so he could rest his face in his palms. The rain continued to pour and Azriel could feel where the cold began to pierce his skin and sink deep within his bones. He sat like that for a while.

The soft sound of claws clicking against pavement stirred him from his stupor. He glanced up to see a small chihuahua approaching him. It ambled up to him without a care for the world around it and sniffed his leg. Azriel held out a hand for it to examine and watched in wonder as it seemed to rest its tiny head in his hand. It was warm and Azriel ran a tentative finger against its cheek. The demeanour of the dog changed immediately. It morphed from the curious being that approached him into an angry hell beast in less than a second. It let out a loud growl and nipped at his hand, biting down hard. Azriel jerked away, letting out various curses all the while. The beast had let go of his hand but it stood before him, barking aggressively, as Azriel rubbed the injured spot on his hand.

“Princess!”

A silvery shout rang out across the park although it was quickly muffled by the rain. A woman came into view. Although she was slightly blurry due to the downpour and his lack of glasses, he could make out her short flowery dress and matching pink raincoat and umbrella. She seemed to be about his age, maybe a couple of years younger, and was rapidly approaching him with a stern look on her face. The combination of her warm brown eyes, sodden golden hair and the fact that the streetlamps that had just flickered on, illuminating her silhouette, made her look like an angel. An angel in a pair of bright yellow welly boots. Maybe he had died and she was here to lead him to whatever realm lay beyond. Or maybe she was here to fetch her dog, the one that had continued growling at him. That made more sense.

“I’m so sorry!” She exclaimed as she scooped up the dog in front of him with one hand. “She is never normally like this! At least she’s never been like this before. She’s not mine but I walk her sometimes.”

She continued to ramble, cheeks pink from the cold.

“It’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

She stopped and looked at him, taking him in for the first time. He was probably a sorry sight with saturated stained clothes and broken glasses in his hands.

“Um, are you okay?”

He held up half of the glasses to her.

“Tough day.”

She grimaced before saying, “I can see that. What happened?”

He didn’t want to get into the details so he simply replied, “I dropped them and then stepped on them out of shock.”

She placed the dog back onto the ground, angling it away from him so it didn’t attack him again. She sat down beside him without regard for the wet bench, tied Princess’s lead to the armrest before holding the umbrella over him (which brushed his head due to her being shorter than him) and holding her hand out. He raised an eyebrow.

“Hand me your glasses,” she said impatiently.

So, he did. He gently placed the two halves of his glasses onto her open palm and she passed the umbrella to him to hold over them. She reached into her bag, which he hadn't realised she’d been carrying.

“My sister injured her knee running the other day so I bought some sports tape for her earlier. I can use it to fix your glasses.”

She pulled the tape from her bag along with tiny scissors that looked to be part of a manicure set. She set about cutting and wrapping as he diligently held the umbrella over their heads. Princess had curled up beneath the bench and was busy gnawing on a stick she had found. After several minutes she held up her finished product. The bridge had been wrapped in several layers of skin-coloured tape and whilst the two halves seemed slightly wonky, it would do. She took the small piece of fabric (likely used to clean her phone) that she had been using to dry the glasses and wiped away water from the bridge of his nose before placing his temporarily fixed glasses back on his face. The tape made them sit lopsided but it was enough. She beamed at him as she took in her work.

“Thank you.” He breathed out. “Really, I can’t thank you enough. Is there anything I can do to make up for it?”

She tilted her head to the side as she looked at him.

“Have you heard of the Flower and Fawn?”

He looked at her in confusion.

“The cafe in Velaris?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

“That’s my cafe! I want you to come back with me and I can make some cookies and tea for us! That’s if you want to, of course.” At that, she smiled at him shyly.

“Why?”

“Because you’re having a terrible day. I found you soaked from the rain with broken glasses, after all. I want to help cheer you up!”

He smiled at her before replying, “You’re an angel.”

She shook her head firmly.

“No, I’m just a decent person.” She twisted round to untie Princess’s leash from the bench before turning back to him. “So, would you like to come?”

He considered his options. He could go home and cry in the confines of his room whilst his brothers bug him about various things, or he could follow this beautiful stranger back to her house. She could be a murderer for all he knew, and he was falling right into her trap. But could his day really get any worse?

“Yeah.” He replied. “I’d love to.”

Despite the umbrella, they were still thoroughly drenched by the time they had dropped off Princess at her owners and arrived at the little cafe. Azriel had walked past it several times before, its baby-pink facade, fancy golden lettering and flowers catching his eye every time. Instead of going to enter the bustling cafe, she walked up to the door adjacent to it. As she produced a key to unlock the door she told him, “I live in the apartment above the cafe with my roommate. You can borrow some of his clothes if you want to shower. I’m not working today but I can raid the kitchen for ingredients.”

Azriel looked down at his clothes as she pushed the door open and began to walk up the stairs. His stained shirt had become almost see-through from the wet and his trousers dripped with every movement. Every time he took a step, a small squelching noise sounded due to the water flooding his shoes and socks. Yeah, he might take her up on the offer. He followed her inside cautiously, aware of how much water dripped from him. She turned back from where she was halfway up the stairs.

“Don’t worry about getting water everywhere. My sister once managed to spill a whole bucket of red paint over the apartment and down the stairs. We had to replace the carpets.”

He let out a laugh as he closed the door behind him and began to ascend the stairs. He entered her apartment behind her. It was a small open plan area with the kitchen, dining area and living room all in one. He spied a door in the living room area to his right, likely leading to bedrooms and bathrooms. It was nicely decorated, houseplants and pictures seemed to litter the space along with books and piles of papers. He followed her into the kitchen and placed his bag on the marble island at the centre. She had set about filling the silver kettle when she spun around suddenly.

“I’ve just realised I never introduced myself! How rude of me. I’m Elain.”

Elain, he thought to himself, what a pretty name. He smiled at her before answering, “Azriel. My name’s Azriel.”

“Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Azriel.” She placed the kettle on its base and pressed the button before continuing, “What else happened today then, or was it the getting caught in the rain without an umbrella and breaking your glasses that made it a bad day?”

He contemplated the fact that Elain was a near stranger, despite the brief conversation they had had about themselves on the way back to her apartment. He decided to tell her anyway.

“Tough day at work, I suppose. I was given four new assignments today along with extra meetings and calls. All my deadlines, both previous and new, got moved up and then my laptop blue screened, losing all my work.”

She frowned at him, sympathy filling her eyes.

“Oh my god! That’s so horrible. I’m so sorry you had to go through all that. And I thought I had bad days sometimes.” She paused as she opened a cupboard. “Coffee or tea?”

“Coffee, please. I’ll have it black.”

She nodded in confirmation before pulling out a cafetière.

“My roommate will be home soon. He works in IT so he could take a look at your computer if you’d like.”

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Nonsense. I’m sure he’d be happy to help.” She said, waving him off.

She pushed down the plunger on the cafetière before pouring out the contents into a mug. He took it gratefully and took a long sip. Warmth spread throughout his entire body and he held the mug tightly.

“Thank you.”

Elain just smiled at him in return before taking a sip of her drink. They stood in silence for several minutes, using their hot drinks to bring some heat back into their bodies. Elain pushed off from the counter she was leaning against, holding up her finger to signal she’d return in a moment. Azriel took it as a chance to place down his cup and finally check his bag for water damage. He undid the clasp and glanced inside. Luckily, the plastic folders he had placed his notes in had just about held up. Only the edges of the sheets were soggy. His computer was slightly damp but mainly the water hadn’t soaked through. He let out a sigh of relief. At least one thing hadn’t gone wrong today. He was pulled from his examination by the sound of Elain’s footsteps as she returned from wherever she had disappeared to. He looked up to see her holding a bundle of clothing in her arms which she proceeded to place on the counter in front of him.

“You can borrow these if you want to change or shower. I don’t think it’s good for you to remain in your clothes, you’ll catch a cold. My roommate is a bit shorter than you but they should fit.”

He pulled them towards him gratefully.

“A shower might be good.”

She gestured for him to follow her through the door he had noted earlier. He was correct in his assumption that it led to the rest of her apartment. She showed him to the bathroom and ran him through how the shower worked.

When she was done, she walked away before turning back to say, “I’m going to head down to the kitchens in Flower and Fawn to grab some ingredients. You can put your clothes in that bag there.” She gestured to a small plastic bag on the counter that he previously hadn’t noticed.

“Thank you.” He told her, the sincerity in it making her blush.

“It’s fine, really. I just want you to be okay. Have a nice shower!” At that, she spun around and walked out of the hall. He closed the bathroom door and set about stripping his soaking clothes from his body before stepping into the warm shower. His day was starting to look up.

Ten minutes later, he found himself in a warm black t-shirt and sweatpants that were slightly too small for him. He stepped out of the bathroom with his sodden clothes in one hand and his shoes dangling from the other. He returned to the kitchen, settling the bag next to his leather one and placing his shoes on the radiator to dry. He turned around to find a familiar yet shocked face staring at him from the kitchen table.

“Lucien?”

The red-headed man nodded uncertainly. Lucien Vanserra worked in the IT department at the same magazine Azriel worked for. They were friendly, often having interesting conversations when they bumped into each other in the break room but, other than that, they rarely seemed to cross each other's paths. Until now, that was.

“Azriel? What are you doing here?” Lucien gave him a cursory once over. “In my clothes, no less.”

It took less than a second for it to click.

“You’re the roommate.”

Lucien sent him an even more confused expression.

“You know Elain?”

“I do. Well, I met her today. She found me soaked in the park having a rough time and invited me back to cheer me up.”

Lucien laughed, shaking his head all the while.

“That’s such an Elain thing to do. I worry she’s going to bring home a weirdo one day. You’re close but you don’t quite count.”

Azriel rolled his eyes before replying, “She’s done this before?”

“Not quite this but she’s always trying to help people she meets. I once found her looking after three dogs and two cats because somebody she had met needed to go somewhere overnight and had no one to look after their pets.”

“That’s so nice of her.”

Lucien smiled softly to himself, pride shining in his eyes.

“Yeah. She’s an angel.”

The sound of the door opening startled them out of their conversation. Elain barged in, laden down with a basket of ingredients. She smiled as she saw Lucien and it widened when she saw Azriel next to the kitchen island.

“Azriel, this is Lucien, my roommate.”

He nodded. “We work together actually.”

She beamed at him.

“Perfect,” she said. “That means Lucien would be happy to help fix your laptop.”

Lucien raised an eyebrow at Elain but she ignored him as she set about finding different utensils in preparation for her baking.

“Would I now?”

She turned around with a determined look on her face. She pushed past Azriel to retrieve his laptop and placed it down in front of him.

“Yes. You would. Chop chop, Luci, we don’t have all day.”

She turned back to the kitchen where she resumed her bustling. Azriel sent an apologetic look towards where Lucien sat booting up his laptop.

“You don’t have to.” He told him but Elain spun around to point a whisk at Lucien threateningly.

“Yes, he does. He owes me.”

“I have a date in an hour!” Lucien protested.

“And?” Questioned Elain. “You’ve fixed my computer in ten minutes. You should get going if you don’t want to be late.”

Lucien sighed and Azriel could only shrug in defeat before joining Elain where she stood in front of the counter. She turned to look up at him and for the first time, Azriel realised how much shorter she was than him.

“You want to help?” She asked.

He nodded and suddenly found himself piled with different tools and instructions.

Forty minutes and many mixing bowls later, two trays of freshly baked cookies sat steaming in front of him and Elain, who stared down at them triumphantly. A clatter from behind them caused them to look up. Lucien stood behind the island, Azriel’s laptop and a memory stick before him.

“Bad news, your computer is dead. Good news, I’ve managed to salvage most of your work.” He gestured to the memory stick in front of him. “I’m sure you can get the company to buy you a new laptop if you try hard enough.”

Azriel rushed forward, grasping the memory stick in his hand.

“Thank you so much.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He said waving Azriel off before moving around the counter to kiss Elain on the cheek. “I have a date to get to. Don’t pick up any more strays whilst I’m gone.”

Elain only smiled at him sweetly, mischief twinkling in her eye. “Say hi to Jurian and Vassa for me!”

“I will.” Said Lucien who rolled his eyes before turning to look at Azriel. “It was nice to see you. Keep an eye on her for me, will you?”

“I will. See you on Monday.” He replied.

Elain’s attention turned back to him as soon as the door swung shut behind Lucien. She cast him an excited look.

“Wanna try one?”

He nodded enthusiastically in reply and picked up the one closest to him. The cookie seemed to melt in his mouth, the warmth from the oven lending itself to the chewiness. It was heavenly and he told her such.

Her cheeks darkened before replying, “It wasn’t just me. You helped too.”

“You told me what to do and I followed the instructions. These are all down to you, Elain.��

“I’m glad you like them. They’re somewhat of a staple in the cafe.”

They lapsed in gentle conversation as they ate. He learnt about her family, her hobbies, her passions and he told her the same in return. It was almost 8 o’clock by the time he glanced up at the clock, he hadn’t realised how late it had gotten. He stood up from where he had been sitting after they had migrated from the kitchen to the dining table.

“I should get going. My brothers are probably wondering where I am.”

Elain stood too and they both moved towards the kitchen where Azriel began to pack up his belongings.

“Thank you for having me.” He told her. “It’s been wonderful.”

She smiled at him, soft and welcoming. She looked beautiful under the warm lights.

“I’m glad I could help. It’s been wonderful having you here! Would you like to take some cookies with you?”

He nodded and she wandered over to the cupboard to retrieve a tupperware that she began to pile cookies into. She walked over to where he stood putting his now slightly less wet shoes on by the door. He took the box gratefully.

“Take this,” she told him as she handed him the bright pink umbrella she had been using earlier. “I don’t want you to get soaked on your way home.”

He thanked her before he walked out the door and down the stairs.

“I can return the clothes, box and umbrella to Lucien when I see him on Monday.”

He watched her hesitate as she followed him down.

“You could always stop by the cafe if you want to return them. I work Mondays to Fridays. That is... if you want to.”

He turned to see her blushing profusely. Azriel felt his cheeks warm as he smiled at her softly and replied, “That would be nice.”

He reached the bottom of the steps and pushed open the door. The rain had continued to pour all the while, never slowing. He stepped out and opened the umbrella.

“I’ll see you soon then.”

“See you soon.” She replied, waving at him as he walked away.

He didn’t look back until he heard the door shut quietly behind him. Smiling to himself, he started his walk home. It wasn’t until he had reached the park that he noticed a small note taped to the top of the tupperware Elain had given him. Under the light of the streetlamp, he could just about make out her curly handwriting.

I hope you’re feeling better now! Please feel free to stop by at the cafe when you’re available. Don’t be a stranger!

~ Elain

XXXXX-XXX-XXX

Azriel’s heart stuttered at the sight of the number scrawled beneath her name. He’d definitely be texting it when he finally found his phone. As he wandered through the park, past the bench he had sat on after giving up earlier, he reflected on the day's event. It had been a terrible start but it had ended in something much much better. You know what, Azriel thought to himself as the rain poured down around him and struck the pink umbrella he was holding above his head. Today has been a good day.

********************************

taglist:

@amusedowl @court-of-fuck-me-daddy @akb12348 @actuallyacotartrash @thesirenwashere @julesherondalex @1islessthan3books @verifiefangirl @rhysanoodle @sadbitchlorcan @thefangirlofhp @abraxos-is-toothless @elrielllll @b00kworm @maastrash @rosssas @illyrianbeauty @nightcourtcinnamonroll @ireallyshouldsleeprn @tswaney17 @secretbondsandloveconfessions @sleeping-and-books @thewayshedreamed @rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @the-laughing-bubble @123moiaussi @onceupona-chaos @hereforelriel

let me know if you would like to be added/removed from my tag list!

#angel in disguise #elriel #Elain Archeron #Azriel #azriel shadowsinger #lily writes #my writing #stars-falling #elriel fanfiction #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfic #azriel x elain #elain x azriel #fluff oneshot #pro elriel

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theringers · 3 years ago

Text

invisible string - pierre gasly

illicit affairs, epilogue

summary: “And isn't it just so pretty to think, all along there was some, invisible string, tying you to me?”

a/n: this is it. the final chap. thanks so much to everyone who has sent me a message or ask about the story, i appreciate you more than words can express. i hope i did pierre and max justice thru this story (even tho i just went willy nilly on my keyboard)

i wouldn’t have continued if it weren’t for y’all so thank YOU, this is for u all 🤍

warnings: none /: this is it y’all

edit: i’ve been told i need an angst warning apparently

Kids ran around your yard, screaming and throwing toys everywhere. A blow up slide was situated in the corner of the yard for kids to use and they were loving it.

People were standing around high top tables covered in white tablecloths, chatting about who knows what. You made your rounds saying hello to guests and family who came to celebrate Jamie’s birthday.

He was so excited to have his friends over, but more excited to eat the cake. His top priority.

After giving a huge hug and kiss to your grandmother, you moved on to the next table.

Your eyes did the talking for you when you smiled at him. “Where’s the birthday boy?” He asked, gift in his hand.

“He’s somewhere around here.” You looked around in search of Jamie. “Thanks for coming, he’ll be so excited to see you. Let me go grab him.”

You walked away, passing by the pool. Memories flooded back.

You had spent almost four hours in the pool, drinking more than you should have. Pierre waded through the pool with two cold cans toward you, lounging on a blow up raft.

“Thank you, my love.” He handed you a can and kissed your forehead. You watched as he swam away with a stupid grin on his face.

“Hey,” you felt a hand on your low back, snapping you out of your trance. You were standing alone, staring out to your empty pool when your husband came up to you. He could always tell when something was off.

“Sorry,” you became flustered. “I just got distracted. I was looking for Jamie to-”

You turned around and saw Jamie and Pierre running in circles. Pierre fell to the ground and Jamie jumped on him, wanting to “fly” as he called it. Pierre would put him on his feet and move them around, making him think he was flying.

Max laughed. “He’s so good with him, isn’t he?” You both admired Pierre and Jamie.

He was really good with him. He looked so natural with him, like he was meant to be his father. Jamie was always smiling when he was with Pierre, who he called “Uncle P”.

He would sit at the dinner table and ask when Uncle P was coming over next. They had similar mannerisms, even though Jamie was only three. He stuck his tongue out when he didn’t get what he wanted and he crossed his arms when you were mad at him.

You were so happy that Jamie had someone like Pierre. Someone else to look up to when he became a teenager and his dad pissed him off, or when you wouldn’t let him go to a friend’s house.

You were happy that because of Jamie, Pierre was still in your life. After his divorce, he came around more often and formed a quick bond with your son. His shitty ex-wife had no grounds to stand on anymore, so he spent much more time with you making up for the years he missed out on. You enjoyed having him intertwined into your family, no longer just another driver on the grid or ex-teammate.

You walked over to the two playing and interrupted. “Hey Jamie, it’s cake time!” You shouted at him and he ran right for the table displaying the cake. You held out your hand to help Pierre up off of the ground.

“It’s really nice having you around again,” you said quietly.

He smiled in a joking manner. “I’ll tell ya until the day you die, y/n. Should’ve been mine.” He stuck his tongue out and ran towards Jamie and the cake table.

Maybe in another life…

the end

#f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 blurb #smut prompts #f1 fanfic #max verstappen imagine #pierre gasly smut #max verstappen smut #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly fanficfion #pierre gasly blurb #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly fic #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fanfiction #max verstappen fanfic #pg #mv

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celestialrry · 3 years ago

Note

I wish you would write a fic where...

the main character is the daughter of a really important producer harry is working with and he has a major crush on her but 1) he doesn’t want her dad to feel like he’s taking advantage of her 2) she has a rule of not dating musicians

too young

OOOOOOHHHHHH

HIIII GUYS..... i started school again and honestly for the longest time i've had no inspiration to write but then i got this ask!!! (thank you for your patience anon ily) and was like i love this prompt but then i wrote the first part and had no idea how to continue it,,, but I finally finished it!! ε(♡'-')з (this is me giving you all my love and affection for sticking with me)

(NOT EDITED)

warnings: alcohol consumption

Harry was in a dilemma.

Usually, he could sweep all his issues under the rug, save them for another day, but this one... he couldn't do that. Not because he didn't want to, but because this problem was more than just a dust bunny on his hardwood floor.

Y/N was the problem.

Or to be more precise, his feelings for Y/N were the problem.

Harry had confidence when it came to his crushes. He was smooth, flirty, and snagged almost every single person he's caught feelings for.

But not Y/N.

No, she was almost unreachable, for quite a few reasons.

One, the only reason he knew her, met her, was through a producer he had been working with the past few months. Arlo was massive in the industry and Harry was flattered when Arlo approached him with interest in collaborating. And only a month into working together, he met Y/N.

Harry's head snapped towards the door that had just burst open, a girl barging into the studio that he had never seen before. She was gorgeous, he had to admit, but he couldn't ignore her blatant disrespect for coming in and making a scene while he, Arlo, and a few of his bandmates were working annoyed him to no end.

"Dad! Oh my god, you will not believe what just happened, I was on my way over here and I fucking bumped into Zach," The girl began ranting, approaching Arlo and huffing as she stood next to Arlo's chair. "Of all fucking people I could see just walking down the street, it had to be him. The world is against me today I swear. Anyways, I brought that drum pad you wanted."

She dug into her big brown bag that was slung over her shoulder and pulled out the music board, placing it on the table in front of Arlo.

"Where'd you see him, Y/N? We're about to go on break and I can leave and go kick his ass in," Arlo checked his watch. "7 minutes."

Y/N, Harry now knew her as, sighed and crossed her arms. "He's long gone by now, think he shit his pants when he saw me walking near him."

"Atta girl, thanks for bringing my board too," Arlo smiled up at her from his chair. He then turned to see Harry, and Mitch staring at the two of them. "Oh sorry guys, this is my daughter, Y/N. Y/N, this is Harry and Mitch."

She turned to look at them and smiled wide. "Nice to meet you!"

"You too." They both said in unison, looking at each other with a smile, before focusing back on Y/N.

"We'll be done soon, if you wanna go out and get lunch." Arlo said, turning back to his daughter.

"Sounds good, just text me," Y/N replied, giving him a smile before turning back to the boys. "Nice meeting you guys, again."

And before they could even respond she was gone.

Two, Y/N was younger than him. 6 years younger to be exact. It didn't seem like much, but when put into perspective, she was 21, only just being legally allowed to drink in the States, and Harry was 27. Practically 30, if you ask him, and he was positive Arlo would have his head if he found out Harry liked his daughter.

And three, she doesn't date the people her dad works with.

He had found this out one night when he, Arlo, Y/N, Mitch, and a couple other writers were hanging out at the studio, drinking some wine (she had even exclaimed that this would be her first time drinking red, and Harry was yet again reminded of her age) and chatting after a long day of working.

Harry and Mitch were laughing with Arlo about the first time they met Y/N, and her comments about this “Zach” guy.

“He’s my ex, and had worked with my dad on one shitty song that never got far because he’s just so-- music is just not his thing, to put it nicely. But he was an absolute asshole and after him I made rule to never date anyone Dad works with. It would just go terribly.” She explained, letting Arlo take a few more jabs at the guy before stopping him.

So yeah, Harry was in a dilemma.

In all the time he’d known Y/N, he just kept falling for her. She was kind, funny, beautiful, lit up any room she walked into, and treated Harry like fine porcelain.

She was just fucking perfect.

｡:°ஐ

Y/N had probably been in a lot of worse positions than the predicament she was in now.

For example, that time her dad walked in on her and her ex making out in the studio, or her 21st birthday when she got completely wasted and almost got into the wrong car instead of her uber, and the next day found out that the man driving that car was actually a convicted criminal.

So there’s worse things that could happen than her liking Harry.

But it doesn't mean it wasn’t bad.

The thing is, Y/N didn’t fall for anyone easily. Her one and only ex Zach treated her like a queen until he could officially claim her as his. The flowers he gave her before every date remained at the shop and the consistent compliments turned into insults and muttered claims of discontentment.

Hence why he was her ex. It took Y/N quite a long time to work up the courage to end things with him. He was her first kiss, first time, and first boyfriend. She was yet to find her first love, she never really loved Zach. The way he used to treat her in the beginning, she thinks she loved, but him? No, she would never call him her first love.

So when Y/N’s time crush on Harry began to develop into real feelings in such a short span of time, it terrified her. She had really never felt this way about someone before; butterflies would erupt in her stomach every time he shot her a smile and her mind would erupt into pure chaos when his body brushed up against her own.

So yeah, it could be worse, but it certainly wasn't good.

｡:°ஐ

Y/N enjoyed spending time at the studio with her dad, and surprisingly, spending time with her dad’s “co-workers”. Even though she didn't usually hang out with the pop stars and spent time mostly with the backing band/producers (they were usually 50 year old men, but they were pretty nice) she enjoyed herself fully, having lunch breaks and talking about where their children when to school and whatnot.

Sometimes though, every blue moon, Y/N would hang out with a super star her dad was working with. Usually when most stars are at the studio all they did was record, which was understandable, but she never had the chance to meet a lot of them.

With Harry though, everything was different. It wasn’t just lunches at the studio, or dinner at someone’s house, no, tonight they were going out to a bar.

It was completely unexpected too, they had just wrapped up a song, and Harry, being in a particularly good mood had yelled out about going to a bar to celebrate. Of course, Y/N ignored his shout, knowing she wasn’t invited, and after Arlo had said something about “not being able to party as much as I used to”, she gave her dad a hug good night and waved a little goodbye to the band.

“Wait!” Harry had exclaimed, chasing after her in the hallway. “Where are y’going?”

Y/N’s eyes widened and she looked behind her before looking back at Harry. “I was just gonna head back home.”

Harry’s head tilted, and looked at her questionably. “Y’not comin’ to the bar with us?” He practically pouted.

Her brows shot up in surprise. “Oh! I- yeah I’ll go out with you guys.”

Which lead her here, decently tipsy, and sitting in a booth between Harry and Sarah, laughing at a story Adam had been telling. Every now and then she would glance over to Harry just to find his gaze already on her.

Her heart fluttered every time, and if Harry’s cheeks weren’t already flushed from the alcohol, Y/N would have noticed him blush every time they locked eyes as well.

“M’gonna get another drink, does anyone want anything?” Y/N piped up, a resounding chorus of “no, thank you’s” answering her question. Except for Harry who spoke softly, “A beer? Go ahead and put it on my tab.”

She shook her head at him as he stood up to let her out of the maroon leather booth. “Can’t make you pay for that, I offered.” She said, standing to lock eyes with him yet again.

“Nope,” He grinned. “You can, and you will.”

“But-”

“No buts.” He chuckled, giving her a dimpled smile.

Accepting her defeat she nodded and squeezed his arm with a murmured “Thank you.” before making her way to the bar.

Harry sat back down again, eyes trailing her figure as she walked away before looking back at the table to be met with knowing eyes.

“What is it?” He asked, glancing around at everyone.

“You’re whipped, mate.” Charlotte grinned, everyone else nodding in agreement.

“What?! I am not.” Harry pouted, eyes flicking over to Y/N, who was making her way to the table, one drink in each hand, before back to everyone else.

“She’s really sweet H, you should go for it.” Mitch said.

Harry shook his head, eyes now on Mitch. “I’m not interested in her like that, she’s way too young for me, anyways.”

Just then did he hear the soft hit of his beer and her cosmo land on the table. His gaze trailed up her hands to see Y/N’s shattered face. “Here.” She practically whispered to him.

“I just remembered I have an early class tomorrow, so I should go, but thank you guys for inviting me out.” Y/N explained in lighting speed as she leaned over Harry to grab her purse and toss is over her shoulder.

Words of confusion were tossed around the table but she was already booking it out of there, leaving Harry just as devastated as she was.

“I think she heard you, H.” Sarah said, frowning.

Harry let out a muttered “Fuck!” before taking out large bills from his wallet and tossing it on the table. “For my tab, m’sorry, I gotta go.” And he left just as fast as Y/N did, weaving through the tables and people before bursting out the door to see her standing on the street, arm wrapped around her waist and another holding her phone.

“Y/N!”

Her head whipped around to see Harry bustling towards her and she quickly wiped her eye as he approached.

“Wait, don't go,” He said, struggling to find the words. “We all want you to stay, I want you to stay.”

“I have to get to class Harry, plus, I’m too young to be staying out this late anyways.” She grimaced at her own words.

He sighed, eyes flickering from her own to her lips then back again. “I-fuck, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

This time, she fully turned to face him, brows knitted in distress. “Then how did you mean it? Because honestly I don’t think there is another way to mean it.”

This was his only chance, Harry knew it.

“I just, I tried for so long to tell myself it was wrong to feel this way about you because you’re so much younger than me, and m’pretty sure your father would have my head if he knew but m’fucking infatuated with you, Y/N. M’so sorry I said that earlier, age is my only excuse for not asking you out and it’s not a good enough excuse anymore.”

With this her mouth was gaped like a fish, and her face was akin to a deer caught in headlights. In a flash her arms were wrapped around his neck and he was holding her waist, reveling in her touch.

“Oh, Harry,” She pulled away. “I really like you too.” And with that she pressed a swift kiss to his cheek, leaving him a blushing mess.

“Good, thats... thats good.” He stammered.

“So,” she nudged his arm. “Y’gonna ask me out now?”

#wow this was so rushed #not long at all either #but the first part had been sitting in my drafts for months #so here ya go #Harry Styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader

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canmom · 3 years ago

Text

영화 화요일 29 - Park Chan-Wook’s Vengeance Trilogy

Hey there again... I’m back in the UK. I don’t think that merits an explanation mark because this country sucks. (So do most countries but this one’s so much more personal). Final ‘America observations’ to follow soon!

Also it’s my birthday today! I’m 30. Apparently going by 2016 death rates, I probably can expect to live another 50 years (p=0.7); I might live another 60 (p=0.32), and I am pretty unlikely to get another 70 (p=0.027). My chances of making it to the end of this century are definitely slimmer yet! But who knows what developments in ‘climate crisis’ (-ve) and ‘medical science’ (+ve) and ‘rise of global fascism’ (-ve) and ‘collapse of the present economic order’ (?ve) will adjust those numbers in that time!

Anyway Toku Tuesday kind of foundered during my last couple weeks in California, but it is not dead, and today we’ll celebrate this birthday by watching Park Chan-Wook’s ‘Vengeance’ trilogy, consisting of 복수는 나의 것/Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance (2002), 올드보이/Oldboy (2003) and 친절한 금자씨/Lady Vengeance (2005). Of the three, I have so far only had the chance to enjoy Oldboy, which was screened while I was at uni. My impression at the time was to be kind of disturbed lol because I was kind of sheltered back then. I’m looking forward to seeing it again with more appreciative eyes!

Not so long ago on Toku Tuesday 21, we watched some films of Bong Joon-Ho, a director who occupies a pretty similar niche in both Korean film and well, film internationally. This is apparently situated in a ‘Korean wave’ of increasing international popularity of South Korean media since the 90s, although this tends to refer more to K-dramas and K-pop than film; for the current movement in film specifically we see terms like ‘Korean New Wave’ (here) and ‘New Korean Cinema’ (here)

Both directors (along with others such as Yeon Sang-ho and Hwang Dong-Hyuk) deal more or less directly with the harshly unequal social landscape of South Korea: you probs know at least the vague outlines of the story by now: to my understanding, South Korea saw decades of American-backed military dictatorship in the wake of the Korean War stalemate bifurcating the peninsula into two countries; more recently, after a successful protest movement made the dictatorship somewhat less overbearing (need to look into that more!), this gave way to massive growth of capitalist industry polarising society heavily between hyper-rich capitalists and a majority still in shitty housing, severe debt and limited work etc.

At some point I would like to learn a lot more of the details of Korean socioeconomic history and indeed its film industry; the articles I’m skimming talk about the Americans pushing the Korean government to lift restrictions on foreign film, which were replaced by a quota system in local cinemas that didn’t really do much to prevent domination by foreign films, giving this current wave of filmmakers a pretty international set of influences.

So [bearing in mind like I’ve never been anywhere near South Korea and I’m cobbling this story together based on what I’ve seen and Wikipedia], the film industry that’s grown up since the 90s - or at least, the side of it that tends to get shown internationally at film festivals and the like - is one which favours darkly comic, tightly edited character dramas with a lot of comfort depicting both gore and sexuality. Which is a kind of film I quite like, so we’re on our way back to South Korea!

I don’t think this is by any means an inevitable deterministic result of a society of any particular social factor: a somewhat similar story (of rapid and highly unequal capitalist growth) might be told of China for example, but the Chinese film industry seems to face considerably more censorship and place different emphases. We could speculate that the success of directors like Park Chan-wook and Bong Joon-ho established a certain idea of what ‘Korean film’ should look like, which led to similar films from South Korea getting 1. funded in the first place and 2. international releases... but that’s kind of speculation.

So let’s narrow in on the thing I do have information to hand to talk about: Park Chan-wook’s career. On Wikipedia we learn that he came from a devoutly Catholic family (something he briefly discusses in relation his vampire priest movie Thirst (2009) in this interview), and that he once hoped to become an art critic as a child, but decided to become a filmmaker instead after seeing Vertigo.

His first film came in 1992, a gangster film 달은... 해가 꾸는 꿈/The Moon... is the Sun’s Dream about a man who attempts to elope with his boss’s secretary but fails to escape and ends up coerced into assassinating a childhood friend. Five years later, he directed Saminjo aka Trio (1997), about which I can find little information beyond that it centres a suicidal saxophonist. Neither film was very successful, and he mostly worked as a film critic through the 90s. One might infer given the content of many of his films that he was probably hanging out with anarchist or leftists of some stripe in this time.

The break came in 2000, when he wrote one movie, Anarchists, about a cell of anarchists fighting the Korean occupation through propaganda of the deed in 1924, and directed another, a political thriller called Joint Security Area, adapting a novel in which two North Korean soldiers are shot in the DMZ, and the two countries do not agree on how it happened. The truth turns out to be that soldiers from both countries became friends while patrolling the border, and the killings happened after they were found out.

This one was a hit, and enough of one that Park was afforded a lot more freedom on his next film, 복수는 나의 것 (2002), literally translated as Vengeance is Mine but better known internationally as Sympathy for Mr Vengeance. Here we really start to see his interests: it’s a film about a deaf-mute factory worker who after being fired, tries to exchange his kidney to a group of gangsters in order to get a matching transplant for his sister. The gangsters instead just rob him, and he is unable to afford the operation... but he knows an anarchist named Yeong-mi who proposes kidnapping the daughter of the CEO who fired him as a way to get the money. Naturally, it doesn’t go to plan, leading to a growing cascade of murders, suicides and accidental deaths...

This was not especially successful at the time, disparaged by critics at the time for being overly gory, although it’s subsequently been reevaluated more positively as the first part of the Vengeance Trilogy.

Park also wrote a film called A Bizarre Love Triangle in 2002, although once again there is less info to hand about this one. It seems to involve a twisty story about a three way bi love triangle recapped from a space station? But I really only have the imdb summaries to go on.

The next ‘Vengeance’ film (the trilogy is linked thematically rather than narratively) was Oldboy (2003), and this is where the Park Chan-wook train really got a ton of steam, since it went ahead and won the Cannes film festival that year. The plot has a lot of really quite amusing and left field devices that it seems almost a shame to write out in chronological order, but if you want to know (skip a para if you don’t):

It broadly involves a rich man’s very elaborate revenge scheme for being caught having sex with his sister, who subsequently committed suicide. To this end, he kidnaps and imprisons the man Oh Dae-su who witnessed him, giving time for Dae-su’s daughter to grow up, and then contrives an elaborate scheme to cause Dae-su to have unknowing sex with his now adult daughter (while Dae-su he finds newfound purpose seeking revenge on his captors). It is known for some really beautifully shot scenes of very gruesome things happening, like the long scrolling corridor brawl, Dae-su stuffing an octopus in his mouth, and the suitably vicious finale in which he cuts out his tongue after learning the truth.

This time around, critics judged the violence suitably thematic and purposeful rather than excessive, and Park achieved his promotion to ‘big name auteur director’ in the eyes of the criticism industry. Very cool movie that I remember a lot better than much that I watched that time, and I can’t wait to see it again...

Finally we have Lady Vengeance, also concerning an elaborate revenge scheme: a high school student who became pregnant and was imprisoned for killing a younger child, who in reality was exploited and abused by a teacher after she went to him for help with her pregnancy and coerced into falsely confessing after he kidnapped her baby. Securing an early release, she pursues her own elaborate revenge plot to kidnap and torture the teacher in question, who turns out to be a serial murderer. The reception was warmer this time around, though not quite on the level of Oldboy.

So three gory films about people seeking revenge, in the contexts of various systems of power. What is it all to say? For this we might turn to this master’s thesis by Se Young Kim, whose view is unlikely to be controversial:

At their core, the films are concerned with issues of gender and class, and in a broader context, society and history. The personal struggles for vengeance are allegorical for social struggles and this thesis finds that specific anxieties connected to a very specific period in recent South Korean history are expressed in the films. Those are anxieties formed in the wake of the processes of democratization and capitalization in the country. The Vengeance Trilogy is speaking to and speaking of Korea, and through that dialogue we can see not only discourses of popular nationalism prominent throughout this period, but also a response and resistance to that popular nationalism.

(...)

the protagonists of the films or the citizens are locked in constant struggle that ultimately turns out to be futile. Their resistance is in vain because their citizenship demands their blood, as does the nation. The construction of the national body (capitalism and democratization) demands it. Body parts are not only disconnected from the body, they are also used as commerce, traded in exchange for other services and/or items. This allegory of the body mirrors the argument that Korea’s current economic status came at the cost of blood – starting, perhaps, with Park Chung-hee’s sending of Korean troops to Vietnam in exchange for American economic support (Kwak, 2009). The characters’ bodies are representative of the national body, and allegorize the lack of integrity in the nation: while the hegemonic nationalism argues that the country is at its strongest – in terms of social unity and cultural cohesion – the films are pointing to the contrary. The country is economically strong and progressing, but at an enormous price.

It would be interesting I think to compare these films with movements like ero-guro, which also connect gory imagery with symbols of nationalism; Se Young Kim’s thesis briefly touches on the films of Takashi Miike who works in a somewhat different tradition of exaggerated splatter but I’m not sure if I agree with the reading he cites which takes the violence of allegorical of the incursion of foreigners into a weak Japan (like, seriously? that’s what you’re getting?).

On that note... my own general feeling on ~The Issue of Violence In Film~ is that it is necessary (and even if it weren’t, inevitable) to make art in a society as overtly coercive and violent as the ones we all live in which in some way processes that violence and its various psychic effects including fascination and even eroticism; films with a lot of special-effects gore is one approach which I think continues to be productive! So when Se Young Kim writes:

In no way do I intend for this study to be a validation of a disreputable body of work by an ultraviolent director. I am not studying these films and saying that they are worth study because they too have social commentary and historical value. Rather, I am saying that even these films that are indicative of a “bankrupt, reductive postmodernism” are worth studying for they do not exist in a cultural vacuum (Dargis 14). Even the most disreputable films are products of a society and a culture and are reflective of that culture that produces and consumes it.

I find it frustrating: I don’t think there is anything to apologise for here and the appropriate answer to “how do you justify the ultraviolence and sexuality in your films” is just a middle finger, because if you’re asking that question you do not have the appropriate perspective to get it. I don’t think anything is obliged to watch them if it’s upsetting, but the idea that such films are ‘disreputable’ when a Marvel imperialist vehicle (whose connection to actual, real-world warfare is so much more tangible) is ‘mainstream’ is... galling. This is what you get when you turn to academics for insights...

Anyway, all that aside, I’m very keen to catch up on what Park Chan-Wook was up to back then. We’ll definitely get on to some lesser known filmmakers before too long, but for now, those of you who saw these when they came out I hope you will be down to enjoy them again, and those who haven’t seen some of all of them, I look forward to getting to go into it together! If we’re sobbing shellshocked wrecks by the end of this I think I’ll have done something a little right.

Park Chan-Wook has gone on to direct many other extremely stylish and compelling films, of which I have sadly only seen The Handmaiden, so I’m certain we’ll be back to him soon.

Toku Tuesday will begin at 7pm UK time, about an hour and a half from this post! I’ll be streaming at the usual place, twitch.tv/canmom and we’ll watch the Vengeance Trilogy in order! And if time permits we might take the chance to catch up on Kamen Rider Revice as well...

#toku tuesday

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montrealmadison · 3 years ago

Text

drink deeply

or, as they say at samwell, “penitus potes.” shitty gives the toast at jack and bitty’s wedding. for @zimbitsweddingofficial and day two of zimbits wedding week: the wedding itself!

just for fun, a draft version of the beginning of this fic with lardo, ransom, and holster’s “helpful” edits can be found via google doc here. hope y’all enjoy! <3

Good evening, everyone! On behalf of Jack and Eric, thank you all so much for being here tonight, and welcome to what could very well be the most highly anticipated wedding reception of 2019. I mean, this party was planned by the likes of Suzanne Bittle and Alicia Zimmermann. We are in for a treat, folks.

Before we get to all that, I’d also like to extend a particular welcome to those in attendance who are part of the playing, coaching, and/or office staff of the Providence Falconers. Glad you could all make it this evening; I know this past week was a little bit busy for you guys.

[Insert appropriate pause and gesture to the punch bowl, which on closer inspection is actually—oh yeah—the Stanley Cup the Falcs won three days ago. Hold for inevitable applause, general hysteria, and/or hooting/hollering from Tater.]

For those of you who don’t know me, I’ve been trying to decide whether I should introduce myself by my first name, which will inevitably get me mocked by my friends until the end of time, or by my nickname, which will definitely scandalize anyone who has not spent a significant amount of time around twenty-year-old guys who play hockey. However, as I look around the room, I’m realizing that most of you probably either raised, spent significant time around, or were once a twenty-year-old guy who played hockey. To the rest of you, I am profoundly sorry.

So, hi! I’m Shitty, and I’m Jack’s best man.

read more below or on ao3

Being someone’s best man, as I’ve realized over the last few months, should really come with a playbook or an instruction manual or something, because it’s a task unlike any other you’ll ever take on. In addition to being a friend, you have to be a confidant, an expert at bachelor-party debauchery (I think my college resume definitely prepared me for this part) and someone who’s not afraid to step in to make last-minute decisions so the grooms don’t have to. You also have to do all of these things without getting fired from your job or stepping on anyone’s toes, up to and including: the couple getting married, the other people in the wedding party, the grooms’ parents, the wedding planner, and most importantly, Moomaw, whose word is law around here.

(Seriously. She made the pie tonight, people. Bow down to her.)

But as much as the role can feel a little bit like you’re being thrown in at the deep end, it also definitely comes with its perks. Tonight, I have both the honor and the challenge of somehow summarizing how much I love Jack and Eric in a speech that is heartfelt and witty yet also brief so that we can get to the aforementioned pie as quickly as possible. If you’re still following me here, that is a tall order—but here goes nothing!

I met Jack Zimmermann on our first day of freshman year at Samwell, during the bright, hot summer of 2011. I was participating in the time-honored tradition of moving into a dorm on the third floor of a building with no elevator and no air conditioning in the middle of August. It builds character, or so the good folks in Samwell administration probably tell themselves. Anyway, athletes got to move in early for preseason, so I was expecting to be one of the only guys on the floor for at least a couple days. I was just carrying the last box into my room when the door next to mine opened and—well, you can probably guess who walked out.

Now, I grew up in Boston, which means I also grew up around hockey culture. I’d heard the news that Jack was coming to Samwell, so I knew who he was when he stepped into the hall in that same vague way that you kind of-sort of recognize celebrities hustling down the street or through the airport with their sunglasses on. And he gave me that same vibe—“I know you know who I am, and I’d very much like not to be bothered about it.”

Here is something that will not shock you if you know us: Jack was the first friend I made in college. Here is something that might shock you if you know us: That definitely doesn’t mean we were friends at first. By his own admission, Jack wasn’t at Samwell to make friends at all. He told me, much later, that he was only planning to go to play hockey, get his life back on track, and keep his head down as much as possible.

So in retrospect, maybe it was an unlucky thing for Jack that he ran into the one person who wasn’t going to let him do that.

Because no matter who you are or where you’re from, freshman year of college breeds a unique kind of terror I’ve never felt anywhere else. There’s a lot of pressure to completely remake yourself, to become the person you maybe never could have been in your hometown. By coming to Samwell, I wanted to be a different kind of kid than the one that Andover had raised. Jack wanted to be a different kind of kid than the one he’d spent twenty years telling himself he had to be. As much as neither of us wanted to admit it, we both wanted similar things out of our college experience, and we needed a support system to do that. And so, however begrudging the two of us were about it at first, we started to bond more and more.

It wasn’t always easy. For one thing, my idea of a good time was a lot louder than Jack’s—who enjoyed such scintillating pursuits as “watching golf” and “going to bed at a reasonable hour”, neither of which were quite in my vocabulary at the ripe old age of eighteen. Also, if it’s before six in the morning, he has a hard time remembering to speak English, which used to make for a lot of stilted conversations between the two of us as we walked to early morning practice. (On a completely unrelated note, the first and probably only thing I ever learned in Québécois is how to swear.)

I don’t remember the exact tipping point at which Jack and I really became friends; I think it was more of a quiet acknowledgment that we liked having each other around, that we balanced each other out in ways that neither of us initially knew we needed. What I do know is that, slowly but surely, I started to get glimpses of the Jack that exists off the ice. And so began one of the most extraordinary journeys of my life, because the only thing crazier than knowing Jack Zimmermann is actually knowing Jack.

Here are some things that I’ve learned in the process: He’s on his third pair of neon yellow running shoes, which he buys specifically because the color makes him happy. Before either of us tried Eric’s pies, the only thing that could make him cheat on a meal plan was a sleeve of Double Stuf Oreos. (Don’t ask him how to eat them correctly unless you’re interested in a twenty-minute speech on exactly how they have to be pulled apart.) And he loves Captain America, although it is the opinion of this best man that America’s ass has nothing on his hockey butt. Have you seen that thing? It has Internet fans in at least two different countries.

But I digress.

In our sophomore year we lived next to each other again, by choice instead of by chance, in what I can only describe as the pinnacle of American college living: the Samwell Men’s Hockey Haus. We used to pull the comforter off of one of our beds and climb out onto the roof and clear off the snow so we could share the blanket, look up at the stars, and listen to the bass thumping through the wall of the house next door. On nights when other things felt confusing, this one part of my life was clear. There’s something about sitting out under the open sky that just makes it easier to talk to a guy, you know?

Some nights the conversations we had were funny. Some nights they were serious. Some nights we said nothing at all, just sat secure in the knowledge that someone cared enough to exist alongside us for a little while. There was always an unspoken agreement between us on nights like these: I got your back. For me, Jack’s friendship became a rock, a refuge. It’s something that I came to depend on that year and still do to this day.

As for the content of those late-night conversations—well, some things do have to stay between friends. I’m sure Jack will agree, especially because he has so graciously allowed me to get up here and lovingly roast him just a little bit.

So let’s skip ahead again, to yet another August, the start of our junior year, and the arrival on the scene of one Eric Bittle. This kid burst into our ranks like a ray of Southern sunshine and turned pretty much everything upside down in the process. In the first five minutes of being in the Haus, he somehow made us a pie? Folks, I'm not kidding, it was the best thing I’ve ever eaten. We were a bunch of guys who didn’t know what we were missing until we had it, and let me tell you, it was one hell of a semester after that. In pretty short order we had curtains on the windows and baked goods on the counters, and Samwell Men’s Hockey started to become not only a team but a family.

That was off the ice, at least. On it, things were a little more complicated. As our dear friend and former goalie John Johnson said to me, Jack and Eric hadn’t gone through their character development yet—whatever that means.

Take our third or fourth practice with the full team that year, for example. It had gone… uh. Poorly, would be a word. Later that night I heard some rustling on the roof outside, and God knows I was willing to do just about anything but my homework—so I stuck my head out the window and there was Jack, watching the stars. I asked him if he wanted a buddy, and he said alright, so I slid out and sat down next to him.

That was pretty usual for us at this point. What wasn’t usual was the topic of conversation. The first thing Jack said to me was, “Bittle’s gonna get eaten alive when our schedule starts.” (Remember, people, they’re married now!) The second was, “I want to help.”

Here’s another thing about Jack: Underneath the veneer is a guy who just cares so intensely it’d shock you if you knew nothing else about him. It shocked me a little that day. I think it even shocked him to admit it, to the point where I had to say, “Jack, it’s not a criminal offense to care about other people. Even if it feels like you’re doing it for yourself.”

So he helped. He offered an olive branch, and Bits took him up on it. I’d hear the two of them get up in the morning, hours before the rest of us had to be at Faber, for checking practice. None of the rest of us ever knew exactly what went down, but one thing was for sure—Eric put in a ton of work to overcome some of the fears that had followed him to college. He got better, and Jack relaxed. The two of them really started working as a team, and things started looking up from there.

The day that they told us they were dating was pretty amazing. Eric is so full of light no matter how bleak a situation may look, but that day he was literally almost glowing. And I’ve seen Jack in moments after victory and loss, at his best and at his worst. But I’ve never seen a Jack who was so happy, possessed of such confidence in a decision he’d made, as I saw him that day at brunch. And that’s when I knew this relationship was really special.

From there, many of you know the story. You watched it play out on ESPN and social media and the front pages of every single gossip magazine on the supermarket shelves. But if you’re sitting here with us tonight, you also watched it play out between Jack and Eric themselves. You’ve watched them handle expectations as a united front. You’ve watched their unfailing dedication to each other while they navigate the pressure of being some pretty big firsts. You know that, behind the scenes, these are two incredibly genuine people who bring out the best in each other and are dedicated to doing that every single day.

In the last four years, I’ve watched Eric become self-possessed and confident because he was given the space to do so. In the last six years, I’ve watched Jack grow from a kid with a chip on his shoulder and something to prove to a guy who finally believes that he deserves all the good things the world has given him and then some. If you take nothing else away from this speech, I want you to know this: I’m incredibly proud to call myself a friend to both of them.

Jack, Bits, you’re always gonna be my brothers, my best friends, and two of the finest damn men I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. I wish you both a long and happy marriage. Take care of each other, be good to each other, and never forget where you started—as a team.

So please join me in raising your glasses, everyone, and as they say at Samwell—penitus potes to Jack and Eric!

#shitty knight #jack zimmermann #eric bittle #zimbitswedding #omgcp #check please #this idea jumped into my head and refused to leave #shitty & jack & bitty friendship my beloved #my writing

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so-writing · 4 years ago

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Sugar, Honey, Ice and Tea - Matthew Tkachuk (4)

This part is shorter than I'd like but it felt right to end it here. also trash edits I'm sorry

all parts in the master list

Sleep.

All he wanted to do was fucking sleep.

The medics cleared Matthew and as soon he was back out on the ice, he made damn sure to get revenge on the asshole that had bodied him. He didn’t do it in a form of physical retaliation though, opting instead to rip the puck from the man’s grasp and score the game winning goal.

It wasn’t even a home game but there were enough screaming fans present that they probably could’ve blown the roof off the arena.

The win was incredible, their fourth in a row, but Matthew was tired. Mentally, he was fine, and he didn’t have any serious physical injuries but a hit that hard was going to have anyone feeling incredibly sore and beaten up.

His sights were set on the hard hotel bed he had to share with someone he didn’t particularly like but the guys weren’t having it.

“Chuky! We’re going out tonight!”

“You’re going out tonight,” he corrected, “i’m going to bed.”

“Come on, man, you have to come out! Game winning goal! Let’s drink about it!”

It was the last thing in the world that Matthew wanted to do, but his team wanted him to go and so, reluctantly, he found himself sat at a high top table with a double shot of vodka sitting in front of him.

“Fuck it, I guess, we won!”

He threw the alcohol back like it was water and slammed the shot glass down on the table. He hadn’t eaten much that day, his nutritionist would be pissed if she knew, so the liquor was hitting quicker than normal.

“You want another, chuky?”

“You know I fucking do!”

The boys had gone out to celebrate and you planned to do the same with a few slight differences. Instead of shots in a loud bar, you stopped to grab a bottle of wine before returning to put on your favorite pajamas and hooking your laptop up to the hotel TV to binge the shitty reality show you were currently all about.

Hours passed and as soon as you found the bottom of the bottle of your wine, you were ready to pass out.

“Shit,” you said to the empty hotel room, “need to brush my teeth.”

The amount of wine you’d consumed didn’t hit you until you tried to stand up.

“Fuck,” again to no one, “maybe not.”

Dropping back to the bed and laying there for a minute, you prepared yourself to make the incredibly short trip to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

“You can do it, you’re a good one! You got this!”

Launching your body from the bed, you ran to the bathroom and burst into a fit of giggles as soon as you saw your reflection in the mirror.

“Oh my god! I’m drunk!”

The booming male voice scared the shit out of you, but even in your drunken state, you realized it was Matthew.

“There’s no need to give a girl a fucking heart attack, Chuk!”

You were halfway through brushing your teeth, toothpaste running down your chin, when you exited the bathroom to see him laying spread eagle on the floor beside the bed.

“Who the fuck is Chuk?”

It was hard to understand, and despite your own inebriation, it was obvious he was too far gone.

“You, idiot.”

“Don’t call me that! You are the one that is the idiot!”

It was hard to take him seriously when he was rolling around on the floor in front of you, so it was no surprise that he got offensive when you laughed at him.

“Stop laughing! I’m important!”

“Oh yeah? To who?”

“To the Flames!”

“Who is that?”

“What?!”

He sat up immediately, rocking side to side as he began to explain, “the Flames are my team. I love those guys. We’re going to win a fucking cup!”

There was something so innocent about his drunken rant. Something so innocent and adorable that you wanted to pull his drunk ass into a big hug.

You didn’t though. You knew better. The working relationship between yourself and Matthew was hanging by a thread and the last thing you needed was some drunken bullshit making it that much harder.

“I hope you do win a cup, Matthew.”

“Matthew again,” he whined, “I thought we were past that.”

“Sorry,” you corrected as you hid the smile behind the hand over your face, “I hope you win a cup, Matt.”

“Me too. Fuck!”

He stood up and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body into his.

“I really want to win this year,” Matthew purred in your ear.

What the fuck was happening? Your body was pressed against Matthew’s hard abs and thighs and chest. You didn’t get along until literally yesterday but here he was wrapping himself around you like you had been lovers for years.

“I know, I want you to win too.”

You knew better than to lean into him. Matthew Tkachuk was someone you’d never gotten along with and were still very much on the fence about but feeling the heat of his body against yours had you questioning fucking everything.

The wine coursing through your system didn’t help.

“Can we cuddle? I just want to sleep and I want to hold someone.”

“Someone?”

It was bold and even though you were drunk you knew it.

“I want to hold you.”

“Okay.”

You fell into bed with Matthew with all the ease in the world. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you as close to him as he could.

It was drunken debauchery and nothing more.

“Holy fucking shit, my head is fucking pounding.”

“Keep it down, asshole, you’re not the only one.”

You didn’t realize you weren’t alone in bed until you felt the weight of an arm wrapped around your waist.

Holy shit. There was no way.

Slowly rolling over, you were met with the face of Matthew Tkachuk. His curls were wild and he could barely open his eyes.

“We both drank a lot. Go back to bed. Late practice today, no game.”

Being in no mood to argue, and also incredibly tired, you took his advice.

Waking up pressed into a beautiful woman wasn’t new to Matthew.

He felt incredibly sluggish and tired but she wasn’t up so he tried his best to settle back into the bed and move as little as he could.

Her body was warm and he found himself pulling her waist closer to his own and enjoying the feeling of their bodies pressed together. It wasn’t until she began to wake up that he realized who he was in bed with.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

They had agreed to be kind of friends but there was no way she would continue to honor that deal with his morning wood shoved into her back.

#Matthew Tkachuk #Matthew Tkachuk imagine #matt tkachuk #nhl imagine #Calgary Flames imagine #Tkachuk imagine

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krreader · 4 years ago

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BTS scenario → spending New Year’s Eve with you.

pairing: bts x reader fandom: bts warnings: / genre: fluff word count: 1.4k+

a/n: you can tell how long this request has been sitting in my inbox from the request itself, just like all my other requests. I’m very sorry it’s taking so long to push these out. (editing michelle: it’s been even longer, I figured it’d be nicest to post this on NYE, so I hope you enjoy it ♥). SO ON THAT NOTE, HAPPY NEW YEAR

kim seokjin

“One more round,” Jin begged as you got up and walked over to the window, “Let me redeem myself, come on (Y/N).”

“It's less than a minute till the new year, we dragged it out long enough,” you chuckled as you looked back at him, watching him get up with a sigh, “Besides, I think we've established on who is better at this game.”

Jin gave you a light slap on your ass.

“Why are we even standing here, it's not like there's going to be fireworks,” he pushed his hands inside the pockets of his sweatpants and leaned against the window.

“I just like this view more,” you shrugged, smiling at him, “So.. ten, nine, eight, seven, six..-”

“Five, four, three, two,” and as you thought he'd say one, Jin pulled you towards him and kissed you so deeply that you felt like you were going to faint.

The perfect way to start the new year.

min yoongi

“We haven't done this in a very long time,” you took a sip from your drink, then looked over to your boyfriend sitting in front of his PC, “You know, others would be out having dinner to celebrate the new year. I like that we're not like that. Instead, we’re playing video games all night long.”

“I know you love this way more than drinking in a shitty bar somewhere,” he got up to throw away some trash, then stopped at your desk for a moment to kiss your forehead.

“You're right. It's perfect.”

Yoongi looked at the time on your computer, silently counted down the last five seconds, before he leaned down and kissed you softly.

“Happy new year, princess.”

And with that and a smile, he returned to his own computer and you two continued playing games.

Yes. You liked it.

jung hoseok

“What are you most excited about?”

Hoseok and you had decided to spend New Years outside and despite it being extremely cold, you were glad that you did it. Just sitting at the Han River with your big coats, you leaning your head against his shoulder and watching the stars, because for once, it was actually a clear night's sky in Seoul.

“Spending another year with you,” Hoseok whispered, kissing your forehead.

He checked his watch, then began counting down from ten.

And once he reached zero, he tightened his hand around yours and with the other, grabbed your chin and made you tilt your head back so he could kiss you.

“To another amazing year with the most amazing woman I could have ever hoped to call mine.”

“Cheesy, but appreciated,” you chuckled and kissed him once more, “Happy new year, to the most handsome man alive.”

Yeah, he liked being called handsome, that blush was obvious even in this darkness.

kim namjoon

“Okay, so.. don't laugh at me, okay?” Namjoon stood in front of you with messy hair, a T-Shirt and his underpants, and a sheet of paper in his hands. Whatever this was, the laughing almost started there and then already.

“Okay?”

He cleared his throat, looked down to his piece of paper, then he said: “I thought about how I could make your new year a better one. I want you to have the best year, because you are the best girlfriend. So the minute before the new year, I wanted to tell you all the good things about you and our relationship and just wish some good things for you. First of all, the most important thing of it all, I hope you know how much I love you. I know I tell you this very often, but only because I like how it makes you smile and because I want you to know that you are loved by someone. I want you to know that I am proud of you and I will support you no matter what. You might make some career choices next year and please know that you will not be alone in that. I will be by your side every step of the way, for the rest of our lives together, I will be with you. I love you so much and..-” he glanced at the clock, then he very quickly said: “and I hope that the new year will be the best of your life, thank you for being my girlfriend!”

At first you really had a hard time trying not to laugh, simply because you couldn't understand why he'd put so much effort into this. But by the end of it, you actually had tears in your eyes and jumped up to hug him so tightly, that all Namjoon could do when he saw that it was 12, was say: “Happy new year, babe,” because you were too busy sobbing into his shirt.

park jimin

It would have been too much to ask Jimin to just stay home with you and watch this year disappear into thin air when the clock would finally strike 12. He got too many invites to parties of friends that he desperately wanted to go to and you didn't want to be the party pooper and stay at home, or even worse, beg him to stay home with you.

No, you jumped over your own shadow and went with him.

And you were glad that you did. Because out of all the invites that he got, your boyfriend picked the one where he knew you had some space to retreat if you needed a breath of fresh air.

Sure, this breath of fresh air got a lot more crowded when the new year approached, but it was still nice up on this rooftop, especially when you felt his arms sneak around you from behind.

“Do you have a boyfriend, sweetheart?”

You chuckled, leaning into his chest and your head to the side when he started kissing your neck.

“Well, you've certainly had a few more drinks since I've last seen you.”

“But not enough not to know what's happening right now,” he gave you one last kiss on your cheek, then turned his gaze to the sky when everybody started counting down.

You did it with him, away from the crowd, only the two of you with you in his arms holding you so tightly.

And when the new year was finally here, he whispered: “Happy new year, love of my life,” into your ear.

kim taehyung

Taehyung hadn't been this happy in a very long time.

He had gotten New Year's off. So he had grabbed you and had driven you two back to Daegu where you were now celebrating with his family.

Everyone was laughing, eating and drinking, so happy to be together.

And for a moment, you just had to pause everything you were doing and watch him be this happy, branding it into your memory.

It was only when he approached you that you started blinking at him and then smile, “Hey..”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, really good,” you chuckled a little.

“Good.. then let's go outside!”

The younger kids had been allowed to shoot a few fireworks so that was your New Year's fireworks. But honestly, it was way better than any grand spectacle you would have gotten in any city.

Seeing these kids so happy, feeling the arms of the man that you loved around you and hearing his soft voice count down in your ear before he told you that he loved you once it was 12 o'clock.

You couldn't have imagined it to be any better than that.

jeon jeongguk

“I made the right decision in asking you out, you know?” Jeongguk happily said as he was lying in bed with you, both of you already having your pajamas on, eating ice cream.

He had of course asked you beforehand if there was anything special that you wanted to do on New Year's. He didn't want to do anything, but he would have, if you had wanted to go out.

But his gut had been right about you all along.

You were Mrs. Right for him.

“You're just now realizing that?” you snorted.

He took away your ice cream and put his own away, before he tackled you into the sheets and kissed all the sensitive spots on your neck that made you giggle.

“Jeongguk, wait!” you laughed, “We're going to miss it!”

“Ah, right!” he picked up his phone, while still being on top of you, opened up his clock app and counted down the last three seconds with you. Once that was done, he looked back down at you and grinned, “Happy new year! Now.. where were we?”

And back to absolutely no mercy tickling.

#bts imagine #bts reactions #bts x reader #bts #bangtan #bangtan reaction #bangtan boys #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #bangtan sonyeondan #reader #bangtan x reader #bangtan boys x reader #requests

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melodyalanaroster · 4 years ago

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Dear @chinomiko,

When I first started playing My Candy Love on New Year’s Day in 2013, I was simply a 17 year old girl who was starting the second half of my Senior Year in High School. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, and I certainly had no idea where I’d end up. At the time, I was just looking for a new anime style site to call my internet home after the destruction of TinierMe. In my search, I stumbled upon your site. I had never played a dating simulator before, and I fell for your art style, so I decided to give the site a shot. It didn’t take me long to bond with Nathaniel... He was a kind young man, who loved to read, and had a tortured home life... Even though the torture at home was different between him and me, I still felt like I had found a character I could recognize... Hell, I did the same thing with Ken... My bond with Nathaniel was just so much deeper...

Then I graduated High School... I had no college prospects, and no idea what I even wanted to go to college for (still entirely don’t know).... My issues at home were getting worse, my love life was far from perfect, and living in Texas can be kind of ruthless on those who aren’t following the status quo... Even with going to the United Kingdom for 5 weeks, things still didn’t get better... And of course, the death of my childhood cat, Luna, in 2014 made things worse... So, I started focusing my free time on the game.... Working like crazy to get up to date with the episodes and bonus episodes, editing pics, and even writing fanfics... It became my escape from real life.

That did not change when I met the love of my real life in 2015. Despite entering into a relationship that is still going strong, I needed an escape from the hell my abuser was putting my family and me through, from the shitty job that I had gotten (and still have as of this letter), and from the hell that a really rare disease that had kicked on in my mother’s immune system had begun to put her and my family through. No amount of talking to people in my inner circle in real life helped... And there were times where it felt like the only emotions I knew were anger, sadness, and fear... It was during this time that my main MCL OC, Melody Alana Roster, came to life as what she is today... A strong, smart, beautiful, powerful, woman who goes through some of the worst hell imaginable and ends up living a life of peace with the man she loves (Nathaniel).... When my abuser’s time in my family’s and my life was ending and she was going “all out” on me? I thought of what Alana and Nathaniel would be doing during the newest episode of the game. My job putting me through mental and physical hell (it’s a very demanding job)? I daydreamed about Nathaniel and Alana. My mother’s disease progressing and making my mother put my grandmother and me through hell? I would go in my room and write a section of my story or edit a pic when I could. Hell, My Candy Love became so prominent in my life as an escape that when my abuser’s daughter came back at me (this time with my boyfriend’s ex friend), one of the things she’d say to me was “All you do is sit in your room and write fanfiction.”... I needed something and My Candy Love and it’s fandom was something I enjoyed that kept me in my room (where I felt safe)... To this day, my boyfriend understands why I’ve put so much time and effort into it... Why I’ve spent so much money on it (AP, Gold, commissioned pics, and items)... It was a light in what felt like a sea of darkness in my life...

Now, I’m going to clarify something here... What is written in the last paragraph took place over the course of 5 years... Of course, when I get to the point of 2020, its easy to guess some of the reasons why I continued to focus on My Candy Love... However, I have an added reason.... Not only did the pandemic bitch slap Texas mid March, but about a week before that happened, on March 10th, my mother succumbed to the secondary infection brought on by her disease... And I had to grieve... Of course, when the pandemic hit about week later, I was told by society that I didn’t have time to grieve... As I am a grocery store worker... Which, I still tried to use My Candy Love as a means of escape... It felt like life was going “Yeah, you’re free from your mom’s disease, now here’s one that YOU could bring home to your grandparents and kill them with simply by going to work!”... Because, I’m sure even you know how poorly America has handled the pandemic... And Texas is one of the worst states when it comes to that...

I’m not saying this to make you feel sorry for me... Not in the slightest... I’ve leaned on my family, friends, and boyfriend for everything, so it’s not JUST My Candy Love that got me through all of this... I’m telling you this because My Candy Love and what I’ve done for it has helped me with it all immensely. I thought I had lost my passion for writing while I was still in school, even though my favorite teacher was encouraging me to continue... And here I am still writing my MCL fanfiction... Not only am I still writing my fanfic, I’m getting it turned into 1 copy of an actual book for my shelf when I’m done... When I took photography in High School and wasn’t good at photoshop, I thought it would never be a skill I’d use... And, yet, over the course of my time with MCL, my photo editing skills have improved DRASTICALLY... Sure, I can’t really edit real life photos... But I can make stuff for MCL avatars and such...

I mean, if someone had told me 8 years ago that I’d be so invested in this game that I’d have a body pillow of my favorite love interest, a folder of commissioned art, a blog with over 1,300 followers, an Instagram with nearly 300 followers, a custom plushie of my favorite love interest, a Discord Server with around 200 people in it... That I’d be the Vice President/Club Photographer of the US version of a fan club... That I’d make friends throughout the world in the fandom... That my editing skills would become as good as they are now... That I’d be working on the biggest writing project I’ve EVER worked on... And that I’d cry at the last episode the same way I cried during the Season 8 finale of Scrubs, the series finale of iCarly, Matt Smith’s regeneration in Doctor Who and the ending of Deathly Hallows Part 2... I would have told them that they’re crazy....

Yet... Here I am... I’m turning 26 years old in July... And all of that has happened... In real life, I’m still dealing with the pandemic, I’ve celebrated my 5 year anniversary with my boyfriend, and I’m even preparing to move in with him... Yet, online, I’m still VERY invested in your game. I’m still a long way from finishing my OC’s story... I still want to edit pics for Nathaniel and Alana... And I’m going to be contemplating playing the new game for a while... I’ll still play events... As long as Nathaniel is around, I’ll be there to greet him with a smile... But I don’t know about your new project...

All that being said.... There’s one MAJOR thing I’d like to say to you, Chino....

THANK YOU!

Thank you for everything! For all your hard work in this story... It’s far from perfect, but I still enjoyed the majority of it... For creating Nathaniel, the holder of my 2D heart.... Seriously, thank you for creating him... I have anime crushes, but I don’t love them as deeply as I love Nath.... Thank you for your art! Its amazing! You’re in my top 3 favorite digital artists... The others being Drachea Rannak and Marco Albiero... Thank you for all the work you continue to put into the game that a lot of us have, kind of, grown up with.... I wasn’t really a kid when I started playing, but I do consider myself to have “grown up” with it... Thank you for all of the other love interests... For Castiel, Kentin, Armin, Lysander, Priya, Rayan and Hyun... They’re not the ones I love most, but they’re all interesting characters... Thank you for Candy... While she and Alana greatly differ from each other, Candy was the heroine in a story that gave birth to Alana... Candy is far from perfect, but I’m glad her story ended well.... Thank you for creating the game that brought this fandom into existence... While the fandom can be VERY toxic at times, there are a lot of amazing people in it... They have become some of my dearest friends...

While the entire My Candy Love team at Beemoov deserves my gratitude... I feel like you are the most deserving of it... Because, without you, My Candy Love would not exist.

I look forward to seeing My Candy Love’s future... Either from the sidelines, or from the middle of it... I will see it’s future...

Thank you ChiNoMiko.

All my love and respect,

Melody Alana Roster

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roll-da-credits · 4 years ago

Text

His Biggest Regret -Bakugou Katsuki x Reader-

Word count: 2.28k

After cracking down a big mafia operation on the other side of the globe, the entire alumni’s of UA’s 1st year finally gets together. The festive situation didn’t sit right with Bakugou who felt the overwhelming longing of someone he couldn’t have anymore.

!Warning!:

Mentions of death, mentions of injury, I think that’s it?

A/n: I honestly felt sad writing this haha, I’m kind of proud of it? Editting it was a hassle tho. Anyways, hope ya’ll enjoy some Bakugou (or Bakugo however you want to spell it) angst.

“Congrats Kacchan!!!” Deku playfully slaps the back of his childhood friend.

His smile was bigger than ever. Around Bakugou was his former classmates all talking away in their own little space.

It's been a long time since they all got together since their graduation. Every time anyone tried to plan anything, at least one of them couldn’t make it. But after a big takedown on a pesky Mafia group on the other side of the globe, they all agreed to take a break and celebrate.

The mastermind of the entire operation was the number 1 hero himself, Katsuki Bakugou. “Without you, I don’t think we’d be able to crack the operation.” Kirishima walked over to them with an equally bright smile.

“Tsk, of course! You extras would’ve gotten nowhere without me!!!” The group laughed together.

Some things just never change when it comes to their anger issues ridden former classmate.

“Then I shall make a toast!” Iida spoke loud enough to make sure everyone heard his voice. Everyone nodded and raised a glass. “To Bakugou, for cracking the mystery of Banana Fish.”

“And to all of us who worked together to finally end Golzine’s reign.” With that, everyone cheered and took a sip from whatever drinks they were holding.

Soon enough, endless chatter filled the entire room.

Smiles, laughter, and giggles could be heard from any point of the room. Old friends reconciling with each other. Old lovers mending their relationships. And old enemies finally apologizing.

It felt foreign to Bakugou.

Not the fact that they were all getting along. It wasn’t that.

It was the fact that everyone knew they were missing someone incredibly important.

They weren’t here right now.

He observed the private club with a keen eye. There were bottles of random drinks on almost every table, shot glasses also littered there.

His former classmates were always responsible drinkers. But today, they took shots after shots. Bottle after bottle.

Even Iida seemed to always have a different drink in his hand every time Bakugou would glance over.

He knew; it wasn’t to celebrate. It was to make sure everyone was too tipsy to say anything that would ruin the mood. It was to make sure that no one brought ‘them’ up.

Afterall, their busy schedules weren’t the only thing that stopped them from getting back together and hanging out.

They held fear in their eyes any time the thought of getting together would cross their minds. The thought of having to come face to face with their greatest failure as a hero, friend, and classmate.

Bakugou knew the feeling all too well.

When he was alone, there were plenty of things he could do to prevent his mind from wandering too far. But whenever he’d come across Deku or Shoto in missions or patrol.

If he were to strike a conversation, there’d always be a small silence that would almost always lead to them bringing up the topic of ‘them’.

“Heyyyy bakubrooo you should relax, you seem a little tense!!!” Kirishima’s words slurred.

It was close to 2 am, the party had already died down a little bit.

Some of his more responsible friends are already long gone. Leaving behind either the ones who are passed out or waiting for their ride.

“Get that shit away from me shitty hair!” He huffed and pushed the half full bottle of some random alcohol his friend tried to hand to him.

“Oh, come one number one. You should loosen up!!! You looked more angry than usual this entire time!!!” Kirishima sat down on the couch beside Bakugou with a loud thud.

“I mean, doesn’t the number one hero deserve a break every once in a while? You deserve it Bakubro. You cracked this giant case!!! Without you, that guy with the purple mohawk could’ve died.”

Kirishima laughed, reminiscing all the sleepless nights he and Bakugou would spend just doing research and trying to gain information from anywhere they could.

He took another swig from the half-emptied bottle, “I don’t deserve the number one spot dumbass.”

Bakugou muttered barely above a whisper.

Even though Kirishima was beyond wasted, the fact that his usually guarded friend suddenly opened up sobered him. “Hey, don’t be like that Bakubro. I’m sure they’d want you to be happy.”

Kirishima tried his best to comfort his friend, to no avail.

“I’m going home.” Bakugou suddenly stood up. “Don’t drive dumbass.” With that he walked to leave the club and to his car, hearing Kirishima yell his response. “Got it!!!”

When he got home, he quickly changed out of the annoyingly formal attire, back to his normal everyday attire. A black tank top and sweatpants.

Bakugou fell onto his bed with a small thud, a sigh of exhaustion left his lips. “Damn shitty hair talking about shit that shouldn’t be talked about.”

There was an unspoken rule amongst anyone who knew the alumni’s situation.

Don’t talk about them, you’ll regret it.

After tossing and turning around, Bakugou realized. He couldn’t sleep.

“Fuck.”

It wasn’t a normal sight to see the hero not being able to sleep. He was so strict about his sleeping schedules too. But his mind can’t seem to leave what Kirishima said.

“I’m sure they’d want you to be happy.”

Who does Kirishima think he was? Talking about them like that. Who knows what they’d think of him right now? He broke his promise to always protect them. To always be by their side.

His head looked to the right. A bedside cabinet made out of wood, stood. Devoid of any decor and just with a single compartment.

A single object lies within that cabinet.

His mind argued with each other, debating whether or not to open it.

“Fuck it!”

If he regretted this decision, he’d deal with that later.

Sitting up on the side of his bed he looked solemnly towards the cabinet.

A shaking hand opened the compartment.

There was a single photo frame, the photo side facing down instead of up.

Before he could back down, he took the frame and flipped it to see the photo.

The photo gleamed at him. It was a pitiful reminder.

Overwhelming sadness and anger filled him, when he looked at the picture. Anger, frustration, longingness, sadness, it all came crashing down.

Before he knew it, stray tears fell from his eyes.

The photo was the last photo he ever took together with his high school sweetheart. The love of his life. The person he promised to marry one day. It was the last photo he ever took with you before the world took you away.

Before those villains attacked UA whilst he was in his 3rd year.

It was before he lost the most important person to a villain.

The battlefield was a mess. It had ended but it was still a mess. Random debris scattered around. Some of his classmates and other students from other classes were injured and bloody.

Most of the league had gone with Shigaraki through Kurogiri’s portal, but there’s no telling if someone had stayed. Especially that specific villain with an invisibility quirk.

He had proven to be a rather difficult enemy because of his quirk, but realizing he was outnumbered, he hadn’t showed himself at all. No one saw him walk through Kurogiri’s portal either.

Bakugou shoved that concern to the back of his mind, he had other things to concern himself over. One of the biggest was, finding you.

He needed to apologize. The other night you and he got into a pretty big argument. All because of his anger issues and his pride.

But he couldn’t find you anywhere. Knowing your teleportation quirk.

You’d probably be helping other people around. Helping people deal with debris, transporting different things, and overall doing what you can to relieve any burdens from both the teachers and the students.

He wasn’t really focused on anything. He thought the battle was over. He just needed to find you.

He let his guard down.

He didn’t notice the invisible villain appearing once more to stab him from behind.

He didn’t notice until it was too late.

An ear-splitting scream broke the relatively quiet mood. He knew that scream.

He knew that voice.

His head snapped to the back and everything seemed to have slowed.

He remembered the panic and fear in your eyes. When he noticed the blade embedded in your heart, anger covered his senses.

Another yell resonated in the air. This time it was his own.

Bakugou’s hand went to the villain’s face and blasted them to somewhere he couldn’t even bother to care.

His arms caught your limp body from falling to the cold ground.

The world seemed to turn gray around him. The only thing he could see was your figure on his arms.

Blood pooling from your wound.

The anger that he felt just moments before was quickly replaced by fear.

“WHY DID YOU DO THAT DUMBASS?!” the people around him froze.

You tried to mutter enough energy to at least say a word. Just a single word. “Sorry.” Your voice came in stutters. Followed by a cough of blood.

He felt your body in his hands growing heavier, your hand on his cheek fell to the ground.

“DUMBASS WAKE UP!!!” he didn’t know if it was the shock of the surprise attack or the fear that made his voice crack. “WAKE UP OR I’LL NEVER COOK YOU FOOD AGAIN.”

Your eyes were wide open, but they were cold, empty, unresponsive.

He let tears flow down freely. Now clutching your body against his chest.

“No please.” He wrapped his arms around your body one arm below the stab and another from the bottom, above the stab. “Please teddy bear. I’m sorry ok? I’m sorry. This is enough payback for the shit I said to you last night. So please ok? Please wake up.”

A few of your classmates already a sobbing mess on the ground.

“Please teddy bear, the prank is over. Please… wake up…” Kirishima’s hand on his shoulder broke his trance.

He looked up at his standing friend.

Kirishima saw the sight of his usual angry, stubborn, brave friend, turn weak. Tears were already pouring from Kirishima’s eyes. But he needed to be strong.

It wasn’t his place to breakdown when his best friend had lost the only person who was brave enough of taking the challenge of calming the beast.

“I’m sorry Bakubro.” Kirishima shook his head.

That was the thing that made Bakugou finally realize, you were gone. He screamed up to the sky, cursing whatever God had decided you’d sacrifice your own life for his. He was frustrated he couldn’t protect you.

Kirishima looked around, and he saw how much his classmates cared about him.

No one dared to move or utter a sound above a stifle of cries. No one knew how to react. For the first time in UA history, a student has died in the school’s premise. And that student, was you.

Though Kirishima couldn’t see all of his classmates. He was sure they’d be equally as devastated to hear what had happened. You were such an important part in their lives. To have yours be stripped away that easily was shocking.

You were a ball of sunshine that brought joy no matter what you were feeling or where you were.

But now you lie on the ground, cold.

That night, the entire class was reminded of the hard truth of being as self-sacrificing as you were. You’d sacrifice your sleep to tutor Denki. You’d sacrifice resting your aching muscles just to make everyone’s favourite dishes for dinner.

Now, you’ve sacrificed your life for your lover’s.

He wiped the clear frame from dust and took a closer look at it.

You took it the morning before the argument. It was breakfast and for some reason, you were awake as early as him, for the first time in forever.

You had one of your arms around his torso, hugging him from behind. A bright smile decorated your face as you looked at the camera. Bakugou on the other hand looked to the side with a scowl on his face.

He remembered, after taking that photo. You kissed his cheek and uttered a sweet good morning before making your own breakfast. You didn’t miss the pink hue that decorated his cheeks. Your teasing giggles filled the room.

God, the things he’d give up just to hear your giggles again.

“You’ll never get hurt as long as I’m around.”

“Shut up dumbass, you won’t get hurt. I’ll protect you.”

“I won’t let anyone harm you.”

Those were just some promises he had made to himself and to you.

But now, here he was regretting the fact that his very last conversation with you was a useless back and forth of insults.

If he could turn back time and sacrifice himself, he would.

Bakugou placed the frame down and opened his phone, hoping for some sort of distraction. He wasn’t ready to completely face it yet. Though, everything online only fuelled his self-loathing

There were articles everywhere about how the number one hero Ground Zero otherwise known as Katsuki Bakugou, had saved the lives of thousands of people by cracking a giant drug market.

They all praised him. They all agreed he deserved the spot.

But did he really?

He didn’t think that such a title can be for him. Someone who broke all the promises he ever made to you.

How could he be the number one hero when the only person who was able to control him whilst loving him unconditionally died because of him.

#boku no hero academia #bnha #my hero academia #mha x reader #mha #mha angst #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo angst #bakugou angst #bakugou x you

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companionship · 4 years ago

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okay one big post to get the finale out of my system! it's been lovely reading all of your analyses and reactions, and looking at all your amazing gifs and edits :')

fair warning: this is going to be so stinking long omfg

the things i enjoyed:

vincenzo remaining an anti-hero through and through, especially the fact that he didn't hold back at all when it came to myunghee and hanseok's death. he gave them a taste of their own medicine and then some forreal, their deaths were brutal but oddly satisfying, and i'm saying this as someone who usually hates violence/gore. throughout the show, they've always hinted at what he was Truly Capable Of and boy did we get to see it

vincenzo fumbling in hanseok's house and not being his usual self – a lot of people thought it was ooc, which i understand! i felt like that was the Point, to show that for once, he's not the invincible mafia consigliere that everyone thinks he is. what he did to the man who killed his mother and the army of security guards was a reaction, but this is the first time he's flustered, caught at a disadvantage, and faced with the very real possibility that he might lose somebody incredibly important to him. idk it made him more human to me

vincenzo literally not hesitating for even 0.1 seconds to fold his entire body around hers when he thought hanseok was going to shoot again – yeah that whole bit made my heart clench i feel like a crazy person i won't get over it

the chayenzo hospital scene... my god it was so tender my heart broke. the laugh they both shared, out of sheer relief that she's okay. the little joke about paying for the private room. the way not much was being said, but everything was being said at once. the way they looked at each other, as if it wouldnt ever be enough :( the quiet acceptance that this is their last night together, and that he's going to have to kill a bunch of people after this, but for now they have this. for however brief.

chayoung being chayoung – her big ass personality at the courtroom at the end after winning ms oh's case. her hopping around in those heels, looking elegant and sleek, mocking the hell out of rich conglomorates. she's in her element again and it made me so, so happy to see. i absolutely adore her, she's everything really. after all that loss and the whole ordeal, i'm glad she's able to return to what she does best: putting capitalists back in their place

mr lee being Very Much Not Dead – idk how i wouldve been able to handle it after witnessing hanseo's death like im glad he got the chance to be a dad

the kiss – my god....

the things i didn't like:

hanseo's death – lmao is it even a surprise... say what you will about his death being foreshadowed, but i really just hated hated it. i hate that hanseok won this one. i hate that hanseo worked so hard to redeem himself, only to lose it all. i hate that he was given a taste of what a real family was like, and then having it taken away so cruelly. even though i said above that i didn't mind that vincenzo was ooc at the mansion, i was still screaming at the screen because there were plenty of opportunities for the situation to be reversed. i don't necessarily blame vincenzo for hanseo's death, but i do wish that they had a funeral scene for him. i wish they acknowledged his sacrifice, and how pivotal he was in turning the tables. if not for hanseo, vincenzo really couldn't have pulled any of this off, from the interpol tipoff to the tracking device in the watch. idc idc hanseo is in malta rn, enjoying the sun and the beach, going to therapy, and teaching the local kids how to play hockey even though there's no ice :(

chayoung being bedridden the whole finale – like... NAH lmao this aint it chief... if things went my way, she wouldve gotten out of the hospital depite her injury and dealt with myunghee before handing her off to vincenzo. i loved their animosity for each other, and i wanted chayoung to be the one at myunghee's apartment waiting for her, rubbing it into her face. i wanted chayoung to verbally finish myunghee with that sharp ass tongue of hers and really dump a load of salt on her wounds. then vincenzo could do whatever the hell he wanted. you could argue that the show is called Vincenzo but i really dont care lmao it started with chayoung avenging her dad and she should've been able to strike the final blow. also what was her big second party? are we really just going to ignore her capacity for evil? after all that moral work done, after that time she spent coming to terms with using evil to combat evil, we're just going to... keep her bedridden? park jaebum u will pay for this

vincenzo losing his family – besides hanseo's death, i think this was what i hated the most from the ending. the start of the show showed us vincenzo's departure from the mafia with the very clear intention of Not Returning. the capo died, his loyalties lie with no one, paolo can suck it. throughout the show, we see him repeat over and over that he wants to get the gold and skip off to malta to enjoy a peaceful life there, while reflecting/repenting for the things he's done. vincenzo was gearing up for a lifetime of solitude. the whole point of the show was for him to find a real family and have a real chance at happiness. park jaebum really said FUCK THAT! we're gonna have him ditch the family that he built from scratch with the love of his life and then make him return to the family that tried to kill him AND make him the capo... pjb said we're gonna separate vincenzo from the family that accepts his past and sees it as a strength and not a weakness. the family that was formed out of solidarity, the family that he fought for and fought alongside with blood, sweat and tears. not to mention the goddaughter of his? sorry i would laugh if it didn't actually rile me up so bad

vincenzo not being able to come back to korea – i've said this in another post of mine, but given that he is The Vincenzo Cassano with all those resources at his disposal (guillotine file, mr ahn/mr cho/the chief etc.), the fact that he isnt even able to stay in korea for 30 fuckin minutes after finishing hanseok was ridiculous. the whole police chase was dumb as hell considering that the show has managed to stop politicians and mf presidential candidates from going after him like ? huh LMAO park jaebum had an on-demand pigeon army in this show and Yet he can't stop like 10 suddenly-righteous policemen. another big ass HUH

chayenzo (here we go...):

NOPE! i've reflected on the ending and decided that i'm going to be petty and salty for a while more before coming to terms with it

i can rationalise and try to be positive and tell myself that their love is enduring can transcend space and time and that in due time, they will find their way back to each other, and i have no doubt that they will because they're one soul in two bodies. it's quite literally canon that they're soulmates.

but let me wallow for a second

here we have two people who have done questionable and terrible things in their past coming together, growing together, grieving together, fighting together... you get the gist of it. you have two people who have found a home in each other. two people who, for all intents and purposes, were about to live in a whole lot of bitterness and solitude if not for each other and the life they built together (chayoung didn't have friends like that, and her family is gone too). to separate them like that at the very end is cruel. i know chayoung and vincenzo are mature and incredible and will be able to function without the other next to them. i know that they will still excel as lawyers and will defeat evil with their underhand methods the way they do so well but my god are they going to feel the absence and miss each other

my point is that they shouldn't have to. from what i could tell, they can't even communicate on a regular basis bc he'll be tracked and whatnot, hence the postcards. a postcard every month is a poor substitute for all those nights they stayed up drinking makgeolli and celebrating their wins. its a shitty replacement for coffee dates and fist bumps and all the moments in between. after everything they've been through, after literally fighting to death for their family, they don't deserve this. they don't deserve to meet up once a year for a couple of hours. they don't deserve pockets of time in malta or korea, their life in a perpetual countdown to when they're going to see each other next

they both deserve love and some semblance of peace (finally finally). they both deserve to have someone to come home to after a hard day of work, because doing what they do cannot be easy. they both deserve a family, deserve to have someone next to them that accepts their past and would embrace their future. they both deserve a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on. i know they will still be It for each other despite the distance, i just wish the distance didn't even exist in the first place bc its stupid and cruel and their love shouldnt have to be proven or tested with time and space. let them stay together. let them grow together. let them be.

side note: song joongki and jeon yeobeen need another project together idc take it up with god

tl;dr: park jaebum u will be paying for my therapy bills

#vincenzo #tvn vincenzo #this was cathartic #if u made it to the end here's ur kiss #this is more for archival purposes than anything #also this is what happens when my best friends arent caught up yet and i have no outlet

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