#the fact that so many people hate him because they say he's cringe

[pardonmydelays]

Society calls for whimsy and fun but then balks at Lin Manuel Miranda. They can't handle all that.

amen to that!

[gorillaxyz]

i dont like rbing murdoc fan art here bc i dont want anyone else to see him... well not really but its sometjing like that

[dalishious]

About Davrin's little blurb on the official website for Dragon Age: The Veilguard...

"Though he was raised in a Dalish clan, he craved excitement and adventure. He'd rather make history than reflect on it."

There's actually a lot to unpack about these two sentences.

First off, placing the word "though" in front of being "raised in a Dalish clan", gives such a thing a negative connotation. The word "though" is used in a way that sounds like "despite", as in, somehow wanting excitement and adventure must go against being Dalish. This correlates with sentence that follows. "He'd rather make history than reflect on it." The word "rather" is yet again used to separate Davrin from his Dalish origin. All together, this promotional description of Davrin is insisting that he is "not like other Dalish".

Now, obviously the game is not out yet, so we do not have total confirmation on what the nature of Davrin's relationship to his culture is really like. But there is absolutely something to be said about promoting the character this way, regardless of however he actually turns out in game. There is absolutely something to be said about how, as @/the-eldritch-it-gay put in their tags here, why do writers feel the need to make fantasy minorities hate or distance themselves from their culture? As a selling point?

Maybe this is completely misleading bullshit, maybe it isn't. All we have to go by, is what BioWare chose to say here, and their past track record with elves:

Zevran may talk about his mother in a font way, but he still has the line, "Too many of our kind think we deserve pity simply because we have failed to defend ourselves."

Velanna is one of the two elves we've had who is overtly proud of her culture, yet she is treated like she is unreasonable and too angry because of it.

Merrill too, is proud of being an elf, and of being Dalish. The story punishes her left and right for this, treats her like a child, and in the end she is either ostracized from her clan or they end up dead because... she cared too much?

Fenris has pretty much zero engagement with elven cultures, and spends his time ridiculing Merrill for being proud of hers.

Solas complains about the Dalish from the start, and says plainly that he does not see himself as having anything in common with elves of current time. "Oh, you mean elves" he says, when the Inquisitor asks how he feels about his people; the thought does not even occur to him.

Sera is... Sera is a character who could have been a really interesting examination of overcoming internalized racism, if she was written by someone competent with the subject. Instead, she just cringes at everything "too elfy" through the entire main game, and only has a single line in Trespasser that hints that she may have a personal struggle going on. But it's still left unresolved.

That's a lot a lot of negativity. So of course seeing a suggestion that more is to come with Davrin has people wary and tired.

Let us also consider the fact that Davrin is overtly Black as well, and what that means. Acting as if one must disregard history in order to make it, as his description so claims, is bullshit. It sounds too much like promoting gentrification/assimilation in my opinion; the idea that you cannot keep your culture if you want to be successful.

I also think that it goes even deeper, on a meta level - I think that BioWare is afraid people will not be able to like or relate to Davrin, if he is "too ethnic". I think that BioWare is taking this Black character and instead of questioning how he can best represent marginalized fans - particularly Black fans - they are questioning how to make him more relatable to white fans. And the only answer to that is to, of course, make him seem like he is an exception to marginalization through separating him from his people.

I am still holding onto hope that Davrin will overall be an interesting, well-written character. And I sure as hell will still be defending him from the people who are already hating on him or ignoring him completely because of their racialized biases. But that does not exempt BioWare, and specifically his writer, John Dombrow, from any criticism. This is not about Davrin the character, this is about BioWare the company's handling of Davrin the character. And in that regard, they're not off to a great start with this.

[0mg-bird]

Look Of Love~ S. Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary: All the moments you had to tell him exactly how you feel, and yet it comes down to this one, where the words ‘I love you’ might save his life.

Warnings: Violence, angst, Reid being a kicked puppy, blood, tw! Tobias Hankel!

Season 2 Reid x Fem! Agent! Reader

Everything was going fine, wasn’t it? Well, about as fine as you can consider a case about a serial killer who believes he’s doing the work of God, to go.

But he was fine.

And that was what made things fine.

Well, until the whole thing crumbled and there was a sharp pain in your lungs that isn’t about to cease. JJ and Spencer left to find the location of Tobias Hankel’s home, that was about an hour ago. You had watched as he holstered his gun, preparing to get into the car and leave you.

“You’re still not coming with me.” He says towards your silent pining.

“Spence.” You argue, though he just turns to look at you amused.

“We’re just going to talk to this guy, he’s just a witness. They need you here.” He reasons, reassuring you with a smile.

His words always seemed to calm you down, it’s like magic, the Reid effect. So you nodded and rolled your eyes as he tucked your hair behind your ears, a quirk he’s always done because he knows how much you hate your pointy ears.

There was no argument, you and Spencer were the closest ones out of the rest. It’s a kind of peaceful friendship, the two of you just played in harmony so well. He knew all of your secrets, you knew almost all of his, and you weren’t shy to tug on his arm or secretly join your hand in his under the table during meetings. Spencer was more than okay with it, learning that’s just how you act with people you are comfortable with.

And while the two of you were convinced it wasn’t a relationship the team would bat an eye at, your friends often had secret discussions in regard to you.

“This whole ‘friendship’ scheme…do they really buy it?” Emily asked one morning as she watched you take a drink of coffee and cringe at the too sweet taste, then give it to Reid and take the one he had been drinking.

Reid isn’t a fan of germs.

But in his mind, yours aren’t so bad.

“Oh no, they’re still convinced they’re just close friends.” Morgan chuckled, answering the woman’s question.

“She loves him.” JJ added in a matter of fact tone. “It’s honestly a little sad…she doesn’t want to admit it out loud.”

“Why?” Emily’s brows furrow.

“Afraid she’ll ruin the friendship.” Morgan simply says.

At that, the female agent scoffs. “Reid’s obviously in love with her, no friend looks at another friend that way.”

They watch intently at the eye contact being shared, and how expressions change when Reid walks away from you.

“They look like kicked puppies.” JJ frowns. “Morgan, go talk to him, I can’t stand this anymore.”

The man looks at her in confusion. “And say what? I can’t just tell a man how he feels.”

Emily argues. “Reid doesn’t know what he feels, he’s confused, put him out of his misery.”

As Morgan goes to open his mouth, Hotch appears with his signature scowl and the conversation was dropped and done with.

Though it was never forgotten.

The entire team saw the lovesickness between the two of you…and yet, you couldn’t fix it.

There were plenty of times you could have confessed, many perfect moments that were ruined by your fear of the feeling not being mutual.

And after a while, the words seemed to try and escape on their own accord. Like in the moment he goes to leave and you call to him one last time.

“Okay, I’ll see you in a bit?” He said, scanning your face intently like he always seemed to do.

“Yeah, see you soon, I lo-”

Your heart beats loudly in your ears and you seal your lips, feeling betrayed by your own words. He looks at you, puzzled, then leaves.

You should have told him.

You should have just told him.

Because now, gun drawn, searching Hankel’s house, Spencer is no where to be found.

JJ was in the barn out back, looking rather disheveled and scared when she was found, but she was safe and unharmed and Spencer was gone.

“We thought he was just a witness, I swear. Then Reid figured out he was the UnSub and...” JJ said to you over and over, feeling guilt in her bones, blaming herself for his abduction. She swore that she should’ve stayed with him, not split up like he said to. She means well…you just can’t think straight.

The team stayed inside the house overnight, working off of minimal hours of sleep, and daybreak came and you were sitting on the couch with your head in your hands, thinking of some plan on how you were going to find him.

“Hey.” Penelope greeted as you walk into the room with a multitude of computers she was searching for any clues.

“Hey.” You sigh, leaning on the desk beside her. “Anything yet?”

She shakes her head. “No, sweet pea.”

You watch the videos of war and destruction on the screens, the right kind of fuel for a split personality maniac like Hankle.

“If Tobias is living as three people, and his father is the one that’s the evil side of his brain, then I think that’s who has taken Reid. We’ve been thinking like Tobias, we need to be thinking like his dad, right?” You question, turning to Morgan as he walks into the room.

He nods. “It’s a good idea, yeah.”

Suddenly, the computer screens in front of the three of you go black.

“What happened?” Morgan asks.

“I don’t know…” Penelope answers…

She tries to get the screens back up, but to all of your surprise, the live stream that comes on is something more horrific than what you were previously watching.

“Spencer.” The name leaves you as well as all the air in your lungs.

There he was, your pretty boy, sat in a chair, bloody and bruised and out of it.

Morgan yells for the others, but you’re frozen in place.

“Track him, Pen.” You say in a panic.

“I can’t, Hankle is only streaming this to his home computer.” She says in disbelief.

“What do you mean?” You worry. “This is some kind of joke? This is just for us to see?”

She nods slowly.

The team watches closely, listening to the way Hankle forces Reid to choose an innocent couple to get murdered.

You seriously think you’re going to be sick.

He struggles on the screen, choosing someone to be spared torture instead.

And as fast as he was in front of you, he’s gone from the live feed even faster. You stare at the blank screen with red eyes, then leave the room completely.

A full day wasted, you weren’t close enough to find him. You go back to couch and prepare for another sleepless night.

~~

At some point, you must’ve fallen asleep, because you wake with a start at the feeling of something being different.

You make your way to the computer room where everyone is hunched over, looking at a map Penelope brings up.

“Good, you got some sleep.” Hotch says, barely sparing you a glance as you enter.

“What’s going on?” You ask, leaning into Morgan’s side.

“We think we found him.” He says to you, watching your eyes widen.

“What?” Your voice cracks and any lingering feeling of sleep is gone.

“We’re heading out in five.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

Tying your hair up and rubbing your face, you pull a kevlar vest on and cinch the velcro shut. The entire car ride to the little shack, you’re twitching.

Everyone shares a look, because the way you act now is the whole reason they didn’t wake you when the live feed was back up. If you were to watch the way Reid was being beaten, Gideon isn’t sure you could handle it.

The team storms the shack, and you try hard not to lose hope when you come up empty handed yet again.

You curse to yourself. “They were here.”

“They couldn’t have gotten far, they’re on foot.” Hotch nods, immediately turning back out to search the cemetery you were in.

On high alert, you search through the dark, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“We’re gonna find him.” Morgan promises, but you can’t focus on anything besides locating Reid.

Closer and closer, you can almost feel it in your bones, the way your instincts guid you in a direction.

The only thing that halts your step is the sound of a single gun shot.

No.

No, it wasn’t going to end like this. It couldn’t.

Quickly, you head to that noise with your partners following after you.

“Spencer!” You shout, voice raw. “Spence?”

He looks up from Tobias’ body, and it’s like the entire world stops spinning. He’s there, he’s alive, he’s breathing ragged breaths and it’s all okay.

Hotch is there to help him to his feet, guiding him to stumble forward until he gains his footing. His head is dizzy and his hearing might be a little echoey but in a single moment, you’re there.

He grips onto you like you’re his lifeline, and you wrap your arms around him, stumbling to support his weight. A hand in his dirty hair, he feels your touch and knows you have to be real. That it’s your real form here that’s fighting to hold back tears and not the visions he’d see when he was out of it.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now.” You promise, knowing he might not realize he’s shaking and mumbling.

Pulling back just a few inches, he’s leaning his forehead to yours and breathing too quickly.

“Hey, hey.” You say softly, gently cupping his face. “Look at me, Spencer, look at me, sweetheart.”

He sees the deep look in your worried eyes and tries to form a sentence, but for once, his big brain can’t figure out what to say.

You do though.

And for once, you aren’t scared to say it. Actually, you’re afraid of not saying it.

“Spence.” You breathe out, he breathes in like your air is what matters. Your hand gently smooths blood soaked hair back, trying to get him to calm down.

He says your name in reassurance to himself.

“Hey, I’m right here.” You say. “I’m right here, and I love you.”

His brain fog seems to clear, his confused brown eyes are searching your face like they always tend to do, and those three words are making a small smile pull on his cracked lips.

~~

The hospital trip is almost too brief, just enough for him to get checked out and cleaned up, then you’re back on the plane to head home.

Curled in the corner of the small couch, you are barely asleep like the others, listening to music, head leaned against the wall. That’s before gentle hands pull your headphones off your ears.

Your eyes open and turn to see Spencer, sitting down beside you.

“Hey.” You whisper.

He sets the headphones down. “Hi.”

“You feel okay?” You ask, noticing the way he pulls your knees away from your chest so you sit normally.

He nods. “I feel about as good as someone who just got beat up would.”

You smile at his humor.

He tucks the hair framing your face, behind your ears, as always. “I was in and out of consciousness when you found me, I think, so I need to make sure that you actually said it and I wasn’t just lucid dreaming.”

You reach up to grab his hands. “Said what?”

He takes a deep breath. “That…you love me?”

His eyes are hopeful and wide, that’s what makes you nod.

“You weren’t imagining it…I love you, Spence.”

A smile forms on his face. “That’s good then.” He says, sure of himself.

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

That when he flips your hold of his hands and joins one in his. “Because I love you too.”

There it was, the confession you’ve wanted for so long. There’s a moment of silence, then your free hand cups his jaw and he moves so close, your lips part just to breathe out slowly and then he’s there. Kissing you.

It’s soft, like you’ve been doing this for years.

He licks his lower lip after he pulls away, trying to savor the taste. Brushing your forehead to his for a second, you lean back and motion for him to follow. There’s no words that need to be spoken as he makes himself a bed in your lap, lying on his side that hurts the least and presses his face into your stomach.

Out like a light, the both of you.

Morgan nudges Emily a while later when they both wake, and he motions over to the lump on the couch. The woman grins.

“It took no interference at all.” She says.

Morgan smirks. “Nope, just a near death experience.”

Hotch scowls as usual. “We’re going to have to talk to HR about this.”

[alltimefail]

Why doesn't Edwin call Charles, "Charlie?"

I shared the isolated audio of Charles' death scene where his "friends" taunted him as they killed him, and in that video, they called him "Charlie." This confirmed what many people in fandom already believed: Charles, a sporty teenage boy in the 80s, would not have gone by his proper first name and likely went by a nickname/shortened version of his name instead.

Now that we know that to be true, it does beg the question: why does Edwin call him Charles? I told you all not to get me started on this in the tags, but you stinkers want me to yap, so let's get into it! 😜

This is a very uninteresting answer, but I think Edwin does not call Charles "Charlie" simply because Charles did not introduce himself as such. Had he introduced himself as Charlie, I don't think Edwin would call him anything else.

This actually brings us to the "meat" of this analysis, and the more important question we need to ask: why would Charles choose not to introduce himself as "Charlie" if that's what people seemed to call him?

I have a couple of theories:

The first one: when Charles meets Edwin he's in a fragile state. A boy he's never seen in all his time at school approaches him, seeming to come out of thin air, just to bring him a lantern without any strings attached (even though Charles cannot give him anything in return). Charles has never experienced that kind of unconditional kindness in his life, and I'm sure that alone was enough to be a bit earth-shaking, mind-scrambling, and intimidating.

But it doesn't end there! The boy who brings the lantern is also claiming to be dead. Delerium/hallucinations are a common symptom of hypothermia so Charles could have though that Edwin was not real or was maybe even some kind of angel-like figure coming to keep him company in his final moments. I mean, the boy's wearing a dated school uniform, enters in a halo glow of golden light, and can walk through walls...it's not the wildest conclusion to jump to.

I think either of thos things individually or a combination of having your guard up, being a bit frazzled from the whole "dying" thing, and believing you're in the presence of an ethereal deity (combined with the fact that you're a people pleaser at your core) is enough to feel compelled to introduce yourself not in formal manner. Not to mention if Edwin introduced himself first, hand outstretched in a formal matter and proper posh accent on full display (something I can totally see him doing), Charles might have felt a bit silly calling himself by such a casual title.

While I think all of this can be varying degrees of true, however, my biggest personal headcanon is that Charles might not have introduced himself as Charlie because who's to say he LIKED that nickname? My circumstances were similar to Charles' growing up, I also had many nicknames from friends and family that I didn't ask for but was given anyway against my will... and I always hated it. Still cringe at some of them to this day, actually! So I think it's possible that Charlie Rowland met Edwin Payne, with all his formal stature and proper professional-sounding name, and took the opportunity to choose what he'd like to go by, without the influence of family or friends. In that way, his chosen identity that would kick off the rest of his existence moving forward (unknown to him at the moment, but true from a narrative standpoint nonetheless) serves as a "Taking your power back" moment for Charles who literally just heard the name "Charlie" being hurled at him as he begged for mercy from people who were supposed to be his friends. Even if he tolerated the nickname "Charlie" before, it certainly wouldn't have fond associations following the event that ended his life (if it had any positive associations to begin with).

Again, speaking from experience, Charlie also sounds like the kind of nickname that could be sugar-sweet on some tongues, innocent even, (his mother cooing over a young Charles), but terrifying from an abusive figure... a scathing kind of mockery. I've always imagined that Charles' dad more than likely called him Charlie, for example, and not in a fond, loving way (in the same way his so-called "friends" were not doing so in a loving way).

So yeah, why would Charles WANT to go by Charlie?

Now that we've established that, we can go back to Edwin...what you came here for!

All that in mind, I still don't see Edwin as the nickname type at all. From a romance standpoint I could maybe see him using a few dated, sappy endearments, but we don't ever hear him use a casual name toward anyone. In his lifetime Charlie would have been a perfectly normal name, but the kind of "fond" nicknaming practices and casual male friendships that happened in 1989 were not common practices in 1916, the Edwardian era. Even with his infinite fondness of Charles, I could never see Edwin uttering "Charlie." It doesn't feel right.

Plus, let's be honest: Edwin says Charles' name with enough love and reverence that he doesn't need to use an endearment. His tone says it all (lol).

Beyond that though, like I said above, I can't see Edwin feeling to impulse to call him "Charlie" because that's not how Charles introduced himself. Edwin strikes me as the kind of person that would be like, "If he wanted to be called Charlie, he surely would have said as much" and left it at that. But a name like Charlie also conveys a sort of youthfulness, and while he and Charles are 16 forever, technically, they have been detached from their lives for a long time and they're MUCH older than 16 in experience and in their professional life.

The only question I was left with, and one I've seen several people ponder, is why Charles would suggest they call The Night Nurse Charlie, (like from Charlie's Angels), as it seems a bit strange if his own name is Charlie/he went by Charlie. My answer/interpretation isn't that exciting, but it's one I feel makes the most sense: I honestly think this can easily be explained away by the fact that Charles is so far removed from that identity and so dissociated from his life that he no longer associates the name "Charlie" with himself in any way. Like it literally didn't even occur to him, in that moment, that Charlie/Charles are so similar because he has built a barrier in his mind between himself and that nickname; they're two entirely different identifiers to him. Whether that be a coping mechanism, or simply just something he wasn't thinking so deeply about (it has been 30 years since anyone called him that, except for Brad and Hunter in Port Townsend), we can't say for sure. However, it's clear Charles does not want to go by Charlie, and at least now we can safely assume why.

Let me know your thoughts! Do you agree with my interpretation? Do you have your own opinion that I didn't cover? Feel free to share with me!

Keep streaming Dead Boy Detectives & screaming about it ! Hugs to each and every one of you! 💜

[fayfaygoes]

"Omg I can't wait for Caleb , can't wait for Childhood friend to lover troupe"

I can't stress this enough.

Guys

GUYS

Caleb is not Just a "childhood friend" troupe HE IS GEGE .

It might sounds off putting but many part of Asia we refer to acquaintance or neighbors child slight older than us "Brother"/"Sister" ,call their parents uncle and Auntie's . And it will stay that way maybe later in Life.

But that doesn't mean they are off the partner list when you grow older .

Alot of my girls I know dating guys they used to call "Vaiya" / "Dada" which means Brother ,they still slip that off sometimes.

We all know the Korean word Oppa , it's used AGEYO too . It's so much used in koreaboo section that some people finds the word outright intolerable and Cringe .

But Oppa literally means Older brother and used to refer guys/classmates Older . Yeah you can call your Boyfriend Oppa it's not abnormal regardless of how you feel about it .

Another point-

You know how You set your nickname in game like honey girlfriend etc.

Well there's one nickname you can set in English.

It's "Darling"

But yk what I noticed all the time when I write that name down and have JP voiceover on.

They don't go "Da~rin~" like how you your expect darling to sound in JP accent.

Yk what they say

"NEe - SAN"

and you know what that translates too?

OLDER SISTER .

So yeah you are making them Call you NEE SAN .

But obviously English can't localize it literally so they are writing "Darling" ( I don't have knowledge about the CN part please lmk if yk)

So yeah it may sound Icky to you but there's chances are I would end up with a guy in my work area that I perhaps called Big brother in my language in past ,and there isn't something weird about it. And it shouldn't be made into weird stuff either . It comes quite naturally ,it's not Sweet home albama it's cultural difference.

I am referred to as an older sister by many young men out of respect but it stops there . My real siblings are the ones by blood .

And for Caleb you guys have to accept that and if you do ,Stop hating on him purely for this fact .

En localization team likely knew this is hard to accept and out of comfort zone

that's why they changed to "he is childhood friend" but in voiceover she calls him Gege

GEGE

Voiceover doesn't change that ,and they don't have to because it's understandable when u are used to that happening .

Despite all those connections and links. The Dr. Zayne meeting the MC in childhood and that plays a role .

He FALLS in childhood friend to lover troupe in the literal sense .Not Caleb ,he has a different connection to her in dynamic,that involves treating each other in sibling ways .

Not everyone you call "older brother" / "older sister" you end up pinning for ,that's not what happens. But if you do as two consenting adults there's Nothing wrong WITH it .

So If it was a normal character MC was acquainted with ,then how you view her calling him Gege is Up to your interpretation,it can be anything.

But since it's an OTOME and he is most definitely gonna come back .

So yeah this time You are romancing that GEGE FOR SURREEEE

You guys aren't staying behind that title where you both will continue maintaining safe distance and took them out of the chart as if they are off limit. You are FCKING.

You can accept that , it's one of those cultural compromises

You can enjoy the En localized part if you want but actual intended interpretation should NOT make you retaliate and be defensive stating how Caleb is not that he is childhood friend troupe yada yada yada.

I saw some say Caleb is the actual Childhood friend to lovers troupe because zayne doesn't do the troupe correctly 😶

Each of the lads LIs have Uniqueness in more than one area to the point they don't stand in the same category . Zayne & Caleb is not the same category LIs either and it's not purely for sole fact "oh Caleb is different than zayne, different personalities etc" there is more difference ,troupe has DIFFERENT TITLES.

She has known him as Gege for so long y'all aren't ready for the angst of possible romance coming in between ,the self guilt ,the self restriction ... EVERYTHING.

[matchaelette]

when jungkook is leaving and none of you know what to do with yourselves

summary: idol!jk and oc!ash (her name is ash, cz I couldn't think of anything else & Y/N makes me physically cringe), established relationship, jungkook is leaving for military enlistment and they are just spending the last moments together, jimin cameo ;)

genre: fluff, bit angsty, idol au

warnings: again, jungkook going through the whole enlistment procedure, suggestive, oc cries a lott but hey, everyone of us is crying

words: 3.5k

note: it had to be done. I needed to write about this. I'm not functioning straight and I wrote this in a mood where I felt very drained and emotionless so it might show up in the writing....? also, this is concerning-ly unedited. anyways enjoy, feedback is always appreciated <3

you've lost count of how many times you've cried this whole month.

ever since you could walk, talk, and form conscious thoughts, you've noticed that every feeling you've had and tried to express comes out as tears. yes, you're angry, oh my god mom, I wanna shake your shoulders and tell you to believe your daughter for once and not somebody else, but you're silent and you're crying; you've been memorizing every single thing for this presentation and you swear by your future first newborn baby that every word is engraved in your brain, just say the words, people don't care what you fucking say you just need to say something, but you're silent, your legs are shaking on the stage and you think you're crying; you love him, you love this human being staring at you from between your legs with all the love in this whole fucking universe, kind and whole and happy and real, jeon jungkook, you love him so fucking say it, but all you can do is caress his face and let the silent tears cascade down yours.

yes, ever since the beginning of time, all your emotions and feelings have been coming out as tears.

sometimes you think that spending all your teen years bottling up everything because of a mean father and an angry mother messed you up for good. all your life you've hated yourself for crying so easily, especially when in front of other people, feeling so weak and broken all the time. but you didn't think much anymore, at least not as much as you used to overthink when you were younger, scared of fellow high-schoolers, scared of what people think about you. after you've met jungkook, your sweet jungkook, he has shown you that crying doesn't necessarily mean you're weak. maybe you were just sensitive and that was alright, because you've always cried when you felt too much, made you more of a genuine human than everyone else. his words, not yours.

but it did feel good to hear and you didn't know what you've done to deserve it.

you also remember that every time you've hated yourself for crying, you always found solace in the fact that maybe someday it would all run out and you'd be perpetually free from all of it, the childish thoughts of a child.

however, even though you laughed at those thoughts every time you remembered them, you were now convinced of how wrong you were to think that maybe the tears would run out someday if you cried too much. because you've been crying continuously this month, more than you've cried your entire life, and by god, not only have the tears not dried out but also, it just keeps coming more and more if possible.

you choke out once again as you bury your face in jungkook's shoulder, clutching the front of his shirt as he tightens his grip around your waist. he looks at you helplessly, not knowing what to do anymore, because no amount of words or actions could stop you from crying. he knows he has tried it all.

you force yourself to get a grip, rubbing your face on jungkook's already wet shirt to dry your wet cheeks, and look up at the blurry distance in front of you, resting your cheeks against the place you've been hiding. jungkook stands there, one arm wrapped around you and one arm around his mother, with a little smile that keeps blooming at the sight in front of him seeing his jimin hyung hug and bid goodbye to his family, despite all the heartbreak in the air.

he tightens his grip around you and leans down to kiss his mother's head, who is in a state identical to you but still more graceful and elegant than you could ever be. "it's gonna be okay, you two", he whispers, causing his mother to gently smile and take your hands as you let out yet another sniff at his words. as sad and worried as she was at her son's departure, she couldn't help but feel worried for you too, her motherly nature reaching out towards you in a way you never felt from your own mother.

"I will be okay", she smiles at you in a teasing manner, despite her glassy eyes, "but the question is, will your girlfriend be okay?"

"h-hey!", your voice shook as an unintentional smile replaced the frown, "stop teasing me, maa", you whine.

"I am not teasing you, dear. honestly, come live with me for a few days. come to busan. I'll take care of you"

"if you keep saying that, I'll really turn into a parasite and stay in your house forever, maa"

jungkook giggles at your conversation, happy that the most important two women in his life got along so well. and you did, ever since the day you've met his mother. she loved you as her own daughter, as did his father, and made you feel so loved and comfortable that even your antisocial ass loved to spend time with them, making you visit them frequently, with and without jungkook by your side.

jungkook's mother lets go of her son and glides into her husband's arm, who looks at jungkook with pride. after all who wouldn't be proud of this talented, lovely, hardworking boy? jungkook was your boyfriend, and your best friend before your relationship upgraded into something more, and a lot of words came to your mind when you thought of him. but the first word has to be proud. proud that he became the man he is now, proud of who he was and every single version of him, how humble and kind and caring he is, always making everyone around him feel loved and respected. proud of how your friendship managed to stay so strong after all this time, proud how he is trying his best to get through these 18 months without any toll in your relationship.

jungkook hasn't shed a single tear yet, holding you through nights when you decided to be a mood killer, couldn't help thinking that soon he wouldn't be able to hold you like this. you were so far rooted in the future of the enlistment process that you forgot to live the present. you were a mess, shaking and sobbing ever so often, frustrated at hybe, frustrated at the whole lot of bts for taking a decision like this, frustrated at the south korean government, frustrated at jungkook for not being frustrated at how hysterical you've been acting.

jungkook, instead, has been a constant pillar of support. he has been constantly kissing your tears away, pushing his fears away of how you guys might not last through this calamity, reassuring you more than him that it will be alright. and as much as you wish he would express his own feelings instead of tending yours, you were glad that the boy didn't cry because it was all that was holding you back from getting onto your knees and begging him not to go. you couldn't do that to him, couldn’t do that to his happiness because you knew he would've obliged to your wishes, somehow, and break his own heart. he would do anything for you. he has been continuously proving that, after all.

"how is ash holding up?", jimin asks jungkook as he takes a sip of his soju, not feeling drunk enough despite the few bottles of alcohol he has drank. the point of the night was to spend time with each other, jungkook, him, and taehyung, getting wasted and having fun like old days. namjoon was supposed to join them as well, but he was overseas on schedule. taehyung, on the other hand, was already passed out on the couch, but it might have to do less with his low alcohol tolerance and more with his tiredness after landing in seoul from france just a few hours ago, after quite a hectic fashion week. so, it was jimin and jungkook now, them and their alcoholic asses against the whole world. after all, no one could hold their liquor like them in the whole group.

"she is, well, I honestly don’t know", jungkook frowned, a drop of soju ran down his lips to his black sweatshirt but he didn’t seem to notice, "she is totally ignoring that I have to leave and acting completely normal."

"sounds like her. isn't running from her problems her best coping mechanism?". you were close with all the members in the group, and the rest of them considered you as their little sister as well (even though taehyung jokingly called you noona sometimes) but if there was one member who knew the best, it had to be park jimin. he was your best friend after jungkook and the time you spent together, whether be it gossiping or shopping, was always something both of you found therapeutic and cherished from the bottom of your hearts.

a silent pain erupts in jungkook's heart as he finally voices out the thought he has been continuously having for the last few days, "hyung, should I break up with her?"

"yah jeon jungkook", jimin smacks the back of the younger boy's head, looking at him with shock, "are you that drunk already?"

"I don’t-", jungkook chokes out the next few words incoherently, and jimin had to physically shift closer to the boy to make sense of his words, "I don’t know what to do. I-I don’t know how to live without her. I want her all to myself and I selfishly want to ask her to wait for me. but how can I do that when she could have a much better life without me?"

"jungkookie-"

"she could fall in love with someone better than me. fuck, saying it out loud infuriates me but I know that she could be happier, way happier than I can ever make her. you see what I am doing? I am leaving the girl I love to protect my career, to make sure nobody has anything else left to guilt trap us with. I am doing all of this for myself. how selfish does that make me?"

"you keep forgetting that you don't have a choice, jungkookie."

"then why does it all feel like my fault?"

"what are we going to do?"

the words escape your lips without meaning to. they hang like a whisper in the air as your bodies slowly recover from the high they have been through, limbs tangled and eyes closed, forehead resting against each other.

"are we gonna be alright?"

yes, jungkook wants to say, yes because if you decide to stay, I will make it all work, I will make it all okay, I promise. but how can I ask you to stay when it will only hurt you?

"do you want to… maybe… break up?", his vacant voice makes your eyes fly open in bewilderment, not being able to believe that he actually said the words that he said. all this time both of you have been ignoring the pink elephant in the room, only almost two months left before jungkook left for the military enlistment along with namjoon, jimin, and taehyung. you’ve been trying to enjoy what little time both of you had despite your busy schedules, especially jungkook, who has been working tirelessly to make his fans feel a little less lonely when he won't be present anymore. something to hold on to while I am gone, I hope you can stay within this magic shop we've build together, memories of me would console you like the gentlest breeze of a fall evening, I will yet again patch something I haven’t broken.

but one of you had to be strong enough to address it, this overwhelming dread and the constant need to be with each other, ignoring sleep and every other basic need because you knew your time was coming to an end. you needed to address it and needed to be assured that both of you can get through this, your love was way stronger than these 18 months.

but that's the first thing he wants to say?

the way he looks at you breaks your heart. he has a small smile on his face and you can tell that it is genuine, that he is taking one last moment to cherish all of you if you decided to say yes. but there is almost an unbearing sadness behind his eyes, pained and tortured, begging you to say no.

your voice is almost comical when you actually find it, "jeon jungkook, do you want me to fucking kill you?"

and his immediate reaction is almost laughable. you could see his shoulders drop with relief. he buries his face in your neck and drops all of his weight on top of you, holding you in a way that immediately blocks out all the bad things and forces you to focus on him and him only.

you laugh, "you're quite heavy, babyboy"

"deal with it", comes out his muffled reply, as he forces you down on the soft mattress with his bare body, almost an attempt to bury you, and you choke out yet another laugh at his antics, tightening your legs around his waist and running your hands through his fluffy hair. I refuse to believe that it will all be gone soon.

"you haven't said anything. anything at all", he says quietly.

its sad that you know what he is talking about.

"I didn’t know what to say", you reply softly, careful that your voice doesn't shake. he doesn't need to see how you break every time you remember that he is going to leave, which you've been remembering an awful lot these days. no, you need to be strong, for him and for you. after all, you have already survived months away from each other, during tours and comebacks, thanks to both of your careers.

"we have survived before. it's not something new for us. we can do it again", you whisper against his jaw, gulping down the tears threatening to break free. only this time, it's 18 fucking months, and the unspoken words hang into the air.

"you didn't even shed a single tear", jungkook lifts his face and looks at you accusingly, knowing very well that you're a crybaby, "it keeps feeling like you don’t care."

your eyes widen at his words and it feels like a punch to your gut but you can’t say you're surprised. you have been acting indifferent to put up a strong front, and now that you look back, you may have overdone it from time to time. you were never a good actor.

you never understood why it always felt like this, every time you hide your problems from someone to not bother them, and always feel like a shipwreck when they actually fail to notice.

"jungkook, love", you trace his cheeks with your fingertips, his cute chubby cheeks, his lips, moving to his eyelids the moment he closes his eyes under your touch. you drag your fingertips through his scalp, waterfalls of his hair cascading down when you reach his nape, softly pulling his face closer to kiss the tip of his nose. jungkook, my love, how do I tell you that you mean the world to me and that I am not worried that our relationship isn't as strong enough to fight the course of time but I am sad and I am selfish and I don't know how to survive without feeling your presence for even a single day? how do I tell you that you never have to worry about me leaving but worry about me staying forever and suffocating you? I love you and I don't know what to do with myself, I love you and I don't know who I am without that love. what can I say to make it all better?

"babe, are you crying?"

no, you're not crying. you're sobbing.

"wait wait, I didn't actually ask you to cry—", you can see the panic in his eyes as he pulls both of your bodies up into a sitting position just using one of his hands while the other wipes your cheek off, you on his lap, your thighs straddling his waist, bare torsos flushed against each other. you feel him pulling you into a hug as if your bodies could get any closer than they already are. but instead of being comforted, you sob even louder.

"ash, sweetheart, please don't cry", jungkook wanted to punch himself, regretting the words he spoke earlier. what the hell was he thinking, saying that you didn't cry? he wanted to go back and kick his own ass at the stupidity. why the hell would he want you to cry of all things?

you on the other hand could do nothing except bury your face in your boyfriend's neck, and feel the entirety of him, his body, his scent, his hold on you, his voice so clear in your head, nothing but him until the time runs out. you have been so strong till now, haven't you?

"but you're leaving", he could see now, how much of an idiot he had been thinking that you didn’t care enough just because all you were doing was trying to be tough and get through without this exact moment happening. he could hear the desperation in your choked sobs, he could feel the sadness at his own dam threatening to break. he almost felt angry that after all this time, he was still stupid enough to not see through you.

"and I will be back sweetheart, you know I will be. and then there would be nothing standing between us anymore. nothing. for the rest of our lives", he promises as he lifts your tear-soaked face to look at his own. he looked pained, trying his best to be strong when you were falling apart right in his arms, but you could still see the hope behind his eyes because his promise was real and you knew it.

but once the waterworks begin, it just cannot stop.

there is nothing left to say now. it is time, you realize. the chilly breeze washes over you, and you realize that nothing can make you feel as cold as you will when jungkook gets in that car with jimin. your eyes find each other, mouths desperately looking for words to say, promises, comfort, but what can you say that hasn't already been said?

"I love you", you whisper.

"stay out of trouble, okay?", jungkook kisses your forehead and even with the unstoppable tears leaking out from your eyes, you can't help but shoot him a mischievous glance. you, the god of getting into trouble, staying out of trouble?

jungkook sighs, knowing you a bit too well. after spending years together, he knew well enough that you could never be forced to do something you didn't want to do. you were like a storm, passing through in a way that was your own, wrecking everything in the process. while he loved your bravery and carefree nature, he realized it comes with its consequences. for him, it was constantly worrying about you and never wrongfully so. so, he returns to his last resort to make sure that you will be okay, "do it for me."

"okay that is pure emotional blackma—"

you cannot finish your words because his lips are on yours in a second, abruptly plunging you down a rabbit hole because, god, after all this time you're still not used to it. he smells like fresh laundry and mint, moving carefully because he isn't sure that you will allow him to kiss you like this in front of half the people from his company, his parents, and god knows who else is in the base. but who are you push him away?

you drop all courtesy and kiss him back in a manner that is sure yet gentle, tongue brushing softly against his lips. jungkook obliges and parts his lips, breathe mingling and tongue dancing in harmony as you kiss him with all your might, letting all of him overwhelm all of you one last time.

you let go of each other, breathless yet eyes glued. you trace his face, from his eyes to his cheeks and nose, his shaved head, still as soft as silk under your touch. he kisses your fingers when they reach his lips, smiling gently to remind you that yes, he will be gone, and that will hurt as hell but then again, he will be back.

"go, jimin's waiting", you force out a smile, "and please, for the love of god, choose something normal to do, something that doesn't involve jumping out of an aircraft or—"

"I love you."

".....I know."

[dalamjisung]

as it was ✤ lee felix

word count: 4956

genre: angst, fluff

pairing: reader x lee felix

description: some people claim that it is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all. you and felix have known each other ever since middle school and if there is one thing he really loves about you... it is the fact that you refuse to lose.

part of Summertime's Special Collab with @catiuskaa | series masterlist here

It’s hard, losing what you once had and loved. 

You think it’s the acceptance part that hurts the most. It’s the speeches and the fact that they are coming from anyone and everyone, but not the one person you want to hear it from. It’s the chin ups and you got this that makes you cringe. It’s the you’ll get through this, as if you’re doing it alone, and, really, you haven’t been alone since him. 

God, you hate losing what you once had and loved, but above all, you hate losing in general. You hate change. You hate having to accept something just because it happened, as if the randomness and the messiness of the world around you has the right to dictate your fate without you being able to get a single word in. No. No this is not how it works, you refuse to let this be how it works. 

You met Felix when you were in middle school, but your relationship only starts when you reach high school. You’re both fifteen and fumbly. It feels like a natural evolution from the friendship you two started ages ago, something all too natural for it to be the end all, be all of teenage-hood. It wasn’t until your first kiss, all stiff hands and awkward movements, that it dawned on you: Felix was your boyfriend. And you, in turn, were his girlfriend. It was a rush like no other, repeating that to yourself, and you still remember how you barely slept that night, bright eyed and wide smiles. You giggled and kicked your feet in the air, lips still tingling from the way his pressed against it, and it took you hours to stop remembering his face, all freckles and blushes, and how proud he looked.

People kept saying that college would be the hardest part. They said that you would be tested then, with new people and new situations. Maybe even new selves, if you were lucky enough to have one of those life-changing experiences that your parents always talked about with a far away look of nostalgia and longing for what once was. Truth be told, nothing really changed. You two still had friends, still went to parties, still graduated in different majors, and still, through it all, walked side by side, not wavering in your love for even a second. Because that was who you and Felix were: each other’s constants. 

So why is it that now, when you two are closer than you’ve ever been, when you live together and share a routine… why is that now is the moment when you can feel him slipping through your finger? 

Why now? 

What changed? 

Why did it change? 

Too many questions make your brain dizzy, and for what feels like the hundredth time just that month, you wake up with a headache. The space next to you is empty and when your hand glides over the made side of the bed, it’s already cold and too perfectly fixed in place– if you hadn’t woke up when Felix got home last night, you would have wondered if he had come home at all. With a sigh, you get up and get ready for work. It’s all a part of this new routine you created, one that is meant for two people but has been carried by only one. Something is missing, when you think about it. Obviously, Felix is missing, but it’s more than that. It’s more than just him standing next to you. It’s more than just his smile and his touches and his rough morning voice telling you to be careful to not stub your toe in the bedside table like you do every morning. It’s more than his wild hair and his fresh baked goods and his nagging about how much coffee you’re consuming. It’s… it’s just more. There is more, there is so much more, but you’re too tired to try and figure out what. Looking around the empty house, you frowned, overwhelmed with the sudden need to cry. You still remembered the day Felix came up to you, excitedly waving a newspaper listing in your face. 

“Babe, I swear it’s the perfect apartment– it’s our apartment!” 

You just laughed, grabbing it from his hand to take a closer look. “Sweetheart, this is like, miles away! It’s close to the beach! You just got a job four blocks away and I’m starting at the office downtown–““The bus stop is a block away and it takes a grand total of thirty minutes for us to get up to the centre,” He smiled, proud that he knew you were going to find something to pick on. “What else?” 

“Felix, have you even gone–“

“We have a visit scheduled in two days, and you can’t say you’re busy because you only start at your job next week!”

“Baby, I don’t know…” 

“And you never will until you see it! But Y/N, I mean it, this is our home.” 

There was something about the way he said it, the way his eyes twinkled with glee and his hand shook that goddamned piece of paper, that made you trust him. It made you trust him so much, in fact, that two days later, there you are, following a real state agent inside the apartment and listening to him rattle off some nonsense statistics about the ‘up and coming’ area. 

Felix had always been an excited person. Everything, to him, was a reason to smile, and you loved that about him. You loved that even through the worst times of your life, he was right there, smiling through it but never demanding you to smile, too. He didn’t impose his happiness and didn’t ignore your pain, he simply existed in what seemed to be eternal bliss. You knew better than to fall for this utopian trap, though, and you knew that when he cried, it was during his long showers, when the noise of the water hitting the tiles would cover the tiny hiccups that escaped him. You knew that he got upset and resentful when he felt ignored or left out and that instead of speaking out, he’d simply go silent for a day or two. You knew Felix, better than anyone ever did, and he couldn’t fool you, as much as he tried. 

This time there was no trick. He was truly happy. His smile reached his eyes and the freckles, peppered over his nose and cheeks, stretched with the way his cheeks pushed his eyes into the most adorable creases. “Baby, did you hear him? They have street parties and we could bring them brownies!” He gasped, coming closer to where you were crouched down checking the corners of the wood floor. “Y/N?”

“I heard him, sunshine,” You mumbled, eyes moving around the room with such careful precision that even the agent took a step back, gulping audibly at your sharp gaze. “That is very exciting. Let’s check the oven then, see if you can make those brownies to perfection.”

You hated to admit, but as hard as you tried, there was literally nothing wrong with the place. The fans worked perfectly, the walls had been newly painted, and both the kitchen and the bathroom had been renovated. It was something about how the last tenants destroyed the place before leaving and they had to redo everything. Besides it being a bit far away from your work, even the area seemed perfect– a bus stop thirty minutes away, two markets nearby, and an adorable high street just ten minutes north. And, of course, they had street parties and your wonderful boyfriend would be able to bake brownies and make friends.

It should’ve been the low, fixed price that drew you in. Should’ve been the offer of a rolling contract in such an incredible rent-controlled apartment or the fact that the neighbourhood was incredibly safe and family-oriented. Should’ve been the combination of all of the above, really, that sold you that freaking apartment.

But it wasn’t. 

It was Felix. 

It was the way he bounced in place as the agent slid a makeshift contract for you to go over.

It was the way he promised you that this was it– this was your home.

It was you both, waking up in that room, cooking breakfast in that kitchen, leaving to work through that door. 

“You don’t mind the commute?” He gasped when you signed your name in the dotted line, more surprised to not hear a peep of complaint from you than to see you actually signing the contract. You were the brain of you two, but you never actually told him no. You just made him consider all his options when he got into his tunnel vision of happiness. It was the perfect balance in the perfect relationship. 

And now, in the perfect apartment. 

Weeks after you both move in, he surprises you with a used car that quickly becomes a staple in your relationship. A car you two share. His job is the furthest away from the house, so Felix drives you to work and picks you up after. He is the one that buys the groceries, and preps dinner, and cleans on Sundays. He takes care of the home in a way that you can’t, but then, so do you. Your chores are the less pleasant ones, but are the ones you actually prefer. You take the trash out, and you clean the bathroom, and you fix the clogged pipes. You are better with your hands than your heart, but it works. You guys work. 

Or you guys worked. 

Throughout the day, it’s like you have a ball stuck in your throat. If you try to speak, or if you let your mind wander– and you do, you let it wander and it always wanders to him– you will start crying. The box of tissues next to your computer is almost empty and you are tired of pretending that ‘it’s just allergies.’ Allergy season is long gone and you know you are not fooling anyone. “Y/N?”

Your head snaps up to look at your co-worker, a girl that has been there since you started and has always been more than nice towards you. “Yeah?” You mumble, clearing your throat and attempting a smile. 

“Are you… are you okay? Work has been over for almost an hour but you’re still… here.”

You bite your tongue to stop the urge to bawl your eyes out. “I am waiting for my ride,” You chuckle a bit awkwardly. “So I thought I might as well get ahead with some of the things I need done by the end of the week.” 

“Ah. I see. Do… Do you want a ride home? I don’t mind, I brought my own car and–“

“Thank you, but it’s okay,” Interrupting her is the only way to make yourself feel less pitiful. Now that you know Felix is an hour late, you can’t help but think the worst, and that always makes you panic. “I uh, I have to make a call. See you Monday?”

She just waves you off before walking away. The noise of the door shutting behind her brings you back to life and you are launching yourself to your phone, knocking a picture frame you’ve had perched on your desk since day one. The rush to call Felix is real– he has never been this late before. Usually, you leave him a window of thirty minutes or so to get there; traffic could be a real bitch during rush hour and you know there is nothing he can do. But usually, he will text you. He will call you. Hell, he will send a fucking pigeon if he has to, but Felix would never leave you hanging in the wind. 

His voice on the other side of the call is the only thing that makes you breathe easier. “Y/N?”

“Felix! Oh my god, Lix, babe,” You gasped, hand over your heart as you fall back on your chair. “Love, where are you?! I was so worried, oh my god, I love you, never scare me like this ever again, I’m so serious!”

“What do you mean?” He sounds genuinely confused. “I’m at home.” 

“Home? Felix, why are you home?”

“Why wouldn’t I be home?” It’s the way he sounds genuinely confused that makes you explode. 

“Because you were supposed to pick me up, Felix! Like you do every fucking day!” You shout, eyes starting to tear up again and this time you do nothing to hold them back. You’re tired of holding back. 

“Oh. Oh shit, I forgot… Y/N, I forgot! I can come pick you up right now, I–“

“Don’t bother.” 

“No, no, I can come, you need a ride.”

You do need a ride. 

Technically, Felix is not wrong. 

Technically, Felix never wanted to hurt you. 

And yet, he has. Again and again and again, Felix has hurt you in ways you never thought he would. 

It’s not like you two never fight. Any couple, as good as they are, fight. It’s a need, even if it’s small and barely there; it’s what pushes a relationship forward when partners feel stuck and frustrated. When you fight with Felix, you tell him things that, otherwise, you just… wouldn’t. It’s not the best way to voice something out and having open conversations is always your preferred method of resolving conflict, but you don’t live in an ideal world and you are far from having an ideal relationship. But the truth of the matter is that ideal or not, this is your relationship and nothing, no matter what it is or how pressing it us, is more important than the beautiful balance you and Felix work so hard to keep. 

Or at least, used to work so hard to keep. 

As of late, you are just not sure anymore. From waking up early and leaving without saying goodbye to forgetting to pick you up, it just feels like that the more you let it go, the more you stay quiet and say nothing, the more you are simply letting Felix push you away. The worst part is that you simply don’t know why he’s pushing you away. You don’t know if it’s work keeping him busy, or if something is happening with his friends, or if it’s something entirely, but what you do know is that you’ve done nothing to create tension between you two and… and you know you can’t continue to do nothing to fix it. 

Stray tears silently fall down your cheeks when you hear the jingle of keys on the other side of the call. This is the most effort Felix has put into your relationship for the past few months and admitting that, even if to just yourself, breaks your heart in half. “I need–” But you pause. 

You don’t know what you need. 

There is an answer at the tip of your tongue– I need things to be as they were– but that’s not true. That’s not the right answer and you know; you know because it leaves a numb kind of pain in your chest, like someone is piling stones on your chest, daring you to take a deep breath and watch it all crumble. You’re so tired of walking on eggshells, so tired of being unsure of what to say when you know that there was a time in which you could say anything and his eyes would shine so bright with joy. 

“I need to sleep. I need to sleep it off and I need… I need you to stay home.”

“No, no, I can come pick you up, it’s no pro–“

“I know you can,” Your voice cuts through the phone so aggressively you need to take a deep breath. You had never dealt well with loss, and as much as you haven’t lost him yet, it surely feels like you are in the turbulent and painful process of it all. “But I need you to stay home. Do you understand? I need… I need space. I need, fuck Felix, I need… I need my best friend.” Whimpering, you hiccup, finally breaking the dam you’ve built  around your hurting heart all this time. There is no holding back anymore. “I need my best friend and I need my boyfriend and I need to understand, Lix, cause I don’t! I don’t understand and I don’t know what’s going on but I’m so nervous and anxious all the time, and I just need…” 

A sniffle. You hear a sniffle on the other side of the phone and you know that he’s crying. Felix has always been more emotional than you. He cries easily and he’s not embarrassed about it, not like you are. When Felix cries, you hug him, no matter what made him cry, no matter what you are feeling; you give him your shoulder to cry on, and you remind him, again and again, that you are not going anywhere. 

This time, you can’t do that. 

“I need to call my mom. I’ll uh, I’ll go sleep over hers tonight and we can talk tomorrow or… or whenever you’re free, I guess.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too. I got to go, but… I lo-love you.” The way you choke on your words scare you.

Even the first time you told Felix you loved him, as a friend and as something much more than that, you never stuttered. 

You never hesitated. 

“…and I know I’ve been playing since like, forever, but it’s not my fault the game is hard! It’s so hard, baby, and the guys won’t stop teasing me because I’m bronze,” He groaned, body falling on your bed in such a dramatic attempt to get your attention that you couldn’t leave him hanging. 

Putting your school homework aside, you scooted closer to him. And then you paused. 

Felix had just dyed his hair blonde for the first time and he had gotten in trouble with the principal, but he looked good. It suited him, the light colour; made it look almost like there was a constant halo shining around his face, framing his smile with pure sunshine and heavenly light. In your eyes, he was an angel. Always has been, and it showed through his actions more than his words. It was in the way he always put others before him, and how his friends were always his top priority. It was in the gentle way he took care of Jisung when he wasn’t feeling all that bright, or how he was quick to reassure Chan that he was doing good. It was in how he worked out with Changbin, despite his hatred for gyms, and how he teased Minho and Seungmin for their inane grumpiness, all to just see those precious, rare smiles they shone to no one else but Felix himself. It was in how he took care of Jeongin like an older brother, and how he was always there for you, reminding you to take breaks and look around you. Reminding you that there was life beyond school and jobs and expectations. 

Felix was your reminder that life waited for no one, but he would always wait for you. 

“Y/N, I can’t be any more clear here,” He grumbled, moving until his head was laying on your thigh. Looking down at him with raised brows, he sighed. “I want you to give me attention.”

“I am giving you attention, Lix,” You say, smiling when you slowly push your fingers through his hair. It feels drier than normal, but it’s still one of the best feelings in the world, especially when his eyes fall shut and that familiar blush spreads through his freckles. 

“I want more,” His voice is barely above a whisper now. “I want all your love and attention.”

“You got it all,” It’s like you’ve zoned out. Your eyes stuck on his face, memorising all the little things you missed when he’s not in front of you, tracing his features with your free hand like you were tracing a secret path you never want to forget. “You got all my love and attention, Felix. I love you.”

The way his body reacted to your words was almost comical. You can’t help rolling your eyes at his expression though– all big eyes and gaping mouth. “What did you just say?”

As much as you tried to play it cool, there was no lying to Felix, not when he could read you like a book and quote dialogues he committed to memory. “Felix, I tell you I love you all the time!” And you really did– you’ve done it  for a long, long time now, but this time it was different. You both knew it was different, and for a second, you just stared at each other. 

“But not like this,” He whispered, refusing to break eye contact with you. Right there and then, in your old childhood room, still wearing your high school uniforms, you two had just created a bubble– a little world no one else was welcome in besides you both and in there, in that safe and cosy space, lived all the emotions, all the doubt, all the insecurities that two teenagers in love carried around hidden in their sleeves. In the bubble, though, you don’t need to hide anything. 

“Yeah, well,” You looked down at your hands, getting a bit antsy now that it had been a while and he wasn't saying anything. “I love you like this now. So, yeah.”

“Y/N, look at me.” You shook your head at his request. “Come on, babe, look at me.” 

His fingers hooked under your chin, raising your gaze to meet his and he’s way closer than before, lips brushing against yours when he gently kissed you. It’s a chaste kiss, similar to the ones you two would share in the early beginnings of your relationship. And just like then, your heart sped up, inhaling sharply when he said– “I’ve loved you like this since always.”

Safe to say, you don’t sleep that night.

You wish you could say it was because you’re not used to sleeping alone, but recently, that is all you have been used to. The absence of Felix. 

You don’t sleep because you can’t stop crying. Your mother did her best, like always, to try and calm you down, but she is not used to this– she is not used to the woman you’ve become when she left you at your campus just a teenager. Her best advice, however, is everlasting, and it just makes you cry even more. “I think… I think you need to talk to him. He’s the only one that can give you any kind of answer, sweetheart. He’s your best friend and he knows you better than anyone. Felix would never do anything to hurt you, you know that Y/N. Just talk to him.”

That’s how you end up there, at the beach just a quick walk away from your apartment. You haven’t called him yet, and in all honesty, you’re quite scared to do so. As confrontational as you are in your day to day, confronting Felix is a whole other thing. He gets that stunned look in his face, and his eyes shine with unshed tears. He cries out of guilt, and not because whatever you are talking about is his fault, but just because he will always fault himself when something shifts out of place. He tried to be good like that, refusing to let you share blame and taking it all to himself. And it doesn’t matter how many times you tell him to not do that, to let you face the mistakes you make as a couple next to him, he doesn’t; because Felix would rather hurt himself, than make you hurt. 

“Y/N.”

It’s a bit of a pathetic scene, the one he catches you in. You are wearing some old clothes you still had at your mother’s, and they don’t fit all that well, but it’s better than staying in your office clothes all night long. If you are not wrong, the sweatpants you’re wearing belong to no one other than the man behind you, from the old times when he used to sleep over on the weekends. The t-shirt is your mom’s and it has a tacky, self-help saying in the front that you don’t even dare to read, your hair is a bird’s nest, and you have your heels next to you, naked feet buried in the sand. But none of it matters. Not to him. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I was taking a walk and I saw you,” You don’t have to look back to know he’s awkwardly swaying back and forth, unsure if he should come to you or not. It’s crazy how accurately you can picture him in your mind.

Sighing, you move your heels to the space between your legs, giving him the unspoken permission he needs to come sit by you. “Y/N, I’m sorry.”

Just as you predicted, he is quick to apologise. He is always quick to apologise, but it confuses you a little in this instance. “What are you sorry for, Felix?” 

“Don’t–“ The frustrated sigh he let out is so guttural that it makes you jump a little, head snapping to look at him. “Don’t shut down again.”

“Felix, I’m not shutting down, I–“

“No, you are! You are shutting down because that’s what you always do! You panic, and then you wait until things pass over, and when they don’t, you shut down, and I don’t want you to shut down because I don’t want you to give up on us!”

“Give up on us?!” Your blood is boiling now, and you turn to look at him with an enraged expression. “You gave up on us! You’re the one that disappeared in the mornings, and never came home during the fucking weekends, and that was late for dinners, and that forgot to pick me up!” The more you speak, the higher your voice gets, sounding so scratchy that you can’t even stand it anymore. But that doesn’t stop you– it doesn’t stop you from screaming and crying and shaking. It doesn’t stop you from fighting, because no matter what he does or doesn’t do, you don’t think you can ever stop fighting for you two. “You forgot about me! How could you forget about me?! We live together and and– and oh my god Felix, why did you forget about me?”

By the end of your speech, you’re panting, trying to breathe through the panic. Now that you’ve said it, it sounds so… real. So true. 

You refuse to look at him. As soon as you see the tears in his eyes, you’ll forget everything else and open your arms to him. If you do that now, then you are no better than the people that resign their love, the ones that would rather not fight, and therefore, rather not fix. 

“I… I thought you were tired of me.”

“Excuse me?” 

“You… I don’t know, it wasn’t anything you’ve done, but I just– I– I thought I was losing you, Y/N. We’ve been together for almost ten years. A decade! And every day is like… like the best day of my life. But… But I got scared. I was afraid you were tired of me, so I tried to give you some space. Some moments at home for you to enjoy some peace and quiet, have a nice bath, go out with your co-workers. I didn’t want to suffocate you, Y/N, that’s all, but I guess I took it too far, and I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to. I really didn’t mean to, you have to believe me. I couldn’t sleep knowing I forgot to pick you up because I was too in my head, baby…”

It’s hard to stay angry at him when he’s being oh so honest. You’ve had your moments before– the days where being next to him felt so heavy and hard because you just couldn’t fathom why he was still with you. Why wasn't he bored, or tired, or annoyed of the little things you did. Why did he keep smiling and laughing like your jokes were new. But even in your worst days, you never wanted space. You will never want space. In fact, this was the first time you have asked him for it, and even then, it just didn’t feel right. “Felix, why would I be tired of you? I love you. I… I love you in all ways I can love you. You’re not just my boyfriend, Lix. You’re my oldest friend, my best friend, and, and you know, the guy I hope will be my forever. I could never get tired of you.” 

“I love you too,” He shifts forward, forehead resting against yours. His sniffling makes you smile. “I love you so much, always have.”

“I know, so please… never make me doubt it again,” With a peck to his lips, you wipe your face dry and get up, holding your shoes in one hand and extending the other one for him.

“I never will,” He swore, squeezing your hand as you walked back home. “I’ll be better, I promise. We’ll be like we were in the blink of an eye, you’ll see!” 

“No, sweetheart, it’s not about going back to how it was,” You say, shaking your head with a knowing smile. “It’s about building something much, much better from here on out.”

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

aaaaaahhhhh I'm so excited for this collab! the amazing @catiuskaa already posted Minho's story and you should all go check it out >.< It's in the masterlist tagged above! I hope you all have as much fun reading this as we do writing it <3

[naomikozura]

Playing with Fire: Chapter 2

Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Fem!Reader (Criminal)

Trope: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Romance

Warnings: strong language, use of weapons, aggressive fighting, harassment, murder/killing people, bombs and explosives, mention of burn injuries (minor) , mentions of gang violence (minor), emotional turmoil (if you squint) (lmk if I missed any!)

WC: 6.7K

Summary: The last few weeks have been filled with busy jobs, this one is no different. Sneaking into a secure server base containing everything you need seems easy enough but what happens when a simple mission turns into a death trap? You fight for your life, but not without playing for the upper hand.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 || Chapter 3

Your legs hung off the edge of the desk, looking over at Carmine who was talking to one of the other girls. Sionis and Penguin talking over their next move. Sionis, per usual, was cursing about Red destroying another one of his operations, trying to find a way to get this man’s head in his trophy case. 

“He hijacked the entire shipment of kryptonite. Do you know how expensive kryptonite is?!”, you heard him stress out loud, though you knew that kryptonite was expensive, around $25,000 per gram. This entire shipment was probably well over $50 million due to the amount of cases he had on the boat. 

You knew a loss that big made Red be on Sionis’ rader even more. The one thing Sionis hated more than anything was losing money. This case, $50 million.

“We need to trick him,'' you heard Sionis say. Turning to look at you, then he smirked. “Why don’t we set a trap for him, a pretty one.”, he lifted your chin to look at him. Your eyes shifting to hatred in a split second. “You know how to seduce men, especially with this body of yours.”, you wanted to punch him in the face. The fact that this man was completely oblivious to who he was talking to. 

You really wanted to punch him, but you heard Penguin speak up, “Sionis. You make another comment as brainless as that again, I’ll make sure my men get off protection for your operation.”, you silently thanked him. Sionis stepping back. You kept your eyes on him, his tall stature disappearing through the door to ask for another drink. You turned to the Boss who looked at you and handed you your gun back. He had replaced the bullets in it, ensuring you kept it loaded no matter what. You took the pistol from him and placed it on the inside of your shorts. 

Penguin had moved into the office for a moment, having a call as you stayed in the main room with Black Mask. You watched as he stared at you, not hiding his obvious interest in you. 

“Y/n, what’s a man gotta do to get a little attention around here?”, he asked openly, drink in his hand as he took another sip. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’d have to be easy to look at first of all”, his eyes narrowed as a wide smile cracked on his face. 

“You’re a spitfire aren’t you?”, he leaned forward. “Is that why so many men want a piece of you? Because you leave them on their toes? You playin’ hard to get?”

“You really don’t know when to quit so you?”

“Give me a chance. You won’t know what it’s like to be with a real man until you’ve been with someone like me”, his voice made you cringe. How did this fucker gain so much confidence in himself when he was horrid to look at. 

“Not. A. Chance.”, you bit out.

“C’mon sweets, let’s have some fun” he tried getting closer to you, your body in fight mode as you pushed him off. 

“Let me go mother fucker!”, you pushed him, angry that he could accept no as an answer. 

“You don’t even realize what you're doing”, he cursed, his eyes narrowed at you as he planted a hand next to your head. Your body flush against the wall as he towered over you. “You could have it all, sweetheart.”

“I already have it all. I did it all on my own.”, you said through clenched teeth. “I don’t need anything from you.”

“Alright, Y/n. But you’ll come around sooner than later.”, he laughed before walking back to the couch, leaving the taste of disgust in your mouth. 

You couldn’t understand why Black Mask had taken a liking to you, or when it would stop but you needed to keep him at a distance. He may be one of the boss’s partners but you were skeptical of him and didn’t trust his motives. 

He helped keep money in your pockets and you knew he would be the one to help bring down the Red Hood but for some reason, even with all that you couldn’t bring yourself to let him off the hook.

Your intuition was never wrong, you could always sense out when people stood by their word and when they didn’t.

Sionis was one of those who didn’t.

You turned back over to Penguin as he stepped out of the office, holding a paper and handing it to you. It was a court document with the name and release date of an Arkham Asylum prisoner. Why would they need to come out?

“He gets released in three months. He will be our biggest playing card to take down the Red Hood. Maybe we can find a way to expedite his release.”, Penguin mentioned, your attention fully on the person on paper. It was true they were a heavy hitter, but three months was a long time and would result in more loss of revenue if the Boss waited that long. Then again, Penguin had ties on the inside that could help get the release date to get moved up. 

“What do we do until the process pulls through?”, you asked, setting the paper down as Sionis picked it up. 

“You can work on the Calvi case.”, he mentioned. 

“How are we busting him out? I want him to catch the Red Hood tomorrow!”, Black Mask muttered as he threw the paper back on the table. 

“Patience. For the meantime, we’ll keep business as usual and make sure Hood can’t get in on our jobs. So far it seems he’s only getting on certain operations. We’ve been keeping track and it seems he only goes for high grade weapons.”, Penguin took a sip of his drink before setting it down. “He might be trying to get someone’s attention.”

“Is it the Bats?”

“Who knows. But if it is, we will plan accordingly and make sure we can get both of them.”

“Two birds, one stone”, you said softly.

“Exactly.”

“There is a building that holds high range bombs, get intel on how they got into these fucker’s hands from our manufacturer.”

Black Mask’s words rang in your head, Carmine’s intel helping you locate the building holding the ammunition and bombs. There had been a spike in Black Mask’s trades being raided by Red Hood, causing there to be more of Sionis’s men betraying him in the process in order to not get killed. 

What a waste of a worker because Black Mask would kill them anyway after finding out about their double cross. 

One thing you learned about working for men like them was to never betray them. They enjoyed killing traitors almost as much as they enjoyed getting hundreds of thousands of dollars after every job. It was a risky game to play and you would never find yourself in that situation even if your life depended on it. Your loyalties lied with Penguin and his partners. No where else. 

You managed to drop into the building from the other skyscrapers surrounding it, breaking in through a window after disarming the security cameras in your section and finding a vent to climb into in order to spy on the workers. 

You crawled through the vent and tried to navigate into the tech room where the main information database was. It would be almost too easy to get in and get the intel you needed to ensure you could find which one of the workers traded explosives over to this mystery buyer and betrayed Black mask. 

You loosened the screws on the vent cover, placing it gently to the side and you dropped into the server room in smooth silence. You looked over at the master computer, all the information you needed all held within its drive. You needed to hack into the system, download the current intel, and leave. That was your mission but it wouldn’t be what you would do. You weren’t going to download just the past month of information. You were going to download it all then completely delete it from the cloud to ensure Two-Face’s partners couldn’t get into it. 

You quickly plugged your device into the tower, breaking through the first security wall in record time before you managed to bypass the second security wall. You skimmed through the files before you found what you were looking for, connecting the USB into the main server and back into your computer you had built into your suit. It was similar to what Batman used in the field to find information, a simple copy and built out even better than his was. Once you saw the flash of the information downloading, you managed to look into some of the files, noticing a few names that stuck out to you. 

Joker.

Black Mask.

Penguin.

Riddler. 

Scarecrow.

Bane. 

Why were all these names on the server?

You were downloading all the information so you were certain you’d be able to dig into the files later. You kept skimming until one especially caught your attention. 

Red Hood.

You stared at the name for a second before clicking into the file, starting to read into it before you heard a crash behind you, your head snapping back to the door before you heard the sound of men talking. You quickly finish out the downloads, having all the information onto your drive and your computer, pulling out the USB and flash drive and stuffing them into your utility belt.

The sound of the men approached faster as you quickly coded in the virus to delete all of the information in the server room, setting it to detonate the system in 10 minutes so you had time to leave, putting the computer in sleep mode as the room darkened. Just as the door handle turned and the men barged into the room, you jumped into the ceiling, quickly pushing yourself away from the vent so they couldn’t look up and see you. 

Your heart was pounding in your chest at the close call, slowly backing away as you moved down one of the other pathways in the vent. 

The narrow path ended up leading into a big meeting room, looking down you noticed a bunch of men gathered around talking about some business you couldn’t quite make out. You focused on their conversation, hearing Two Face’s name come up along with Black Mask’s and Penguin’s. 

Was this where the traitor was? You looked through the slits in the vent, moving your head around to get a better view of who all was present in the room. You held your breath, staying even as you moved forward an inch, observing the room before you felt a sense of panic set in. 

You pushed yourself back, the gunshots missing you by an inch before you tried to move through the vents, the loud sound of gunshots shooting off triggered a fight or flight response, leaving you trapped at your limited space before you heard a man yell. 

“Get whoever is in the vent! We cannot let them get out alive!”

Shit.Shit.Shit.

You crawled through the vent, reaching an empty hallway as you undid the screws to the vent, quickly placing it to the side as you jumped down to try and find an escape. 

Just as you fell down, you felt a body slam into you, causing you to fall to the ground and slam into the wall. You rubbed the side of your head, looking up in confusion as your face contorted in shock and annoyance. 

You cannot be fucking serious.

You cursed as you watched his head rise and meet your eye line. “Oh, this is rich.”, he muttered before pushing to his feet and running down the hall. Your head snapped to watch him, hearing as voices sounded from a few meters away before you also rose to your feet and followed behind the red hooded vigilante. 

You followed as he pushed through a door, jumping out of the window and using his grappling hook to smash into the window of the floor below. Why must he be so extra?!

You didn’t have time to think before you also jumped out the window, following suit and using your grappling hook to twist into the already broken window and land into the room. As you jumped in and stood, you noticed Red holding a gun aimed at you, your eyes meeting his as you jumped out of the way as the gunshot rang out. 

Your body twisted out of the way, pushing yourself off the ground and lunging at him with your serrated knife. He moved out of the way as he tried to reach for you but you were quick, slipping past him as you ran out the door and down the hall. You were in a building that had a bunch of stairs, railings that separated a top floor from the floor below, just like a hospital. You could hear him behind you as he tried chasing you, but you jumped over the railing and landed on the ground right below the stairs. Hearing as he aimed at you and his gun went off, the bullet barely missed by a centimeter before you threw yourself on the ground, turning your body and shooting back at him with your own gun, watching as the bullet dug into his shoulder. 

You watched as he gripped where the bullet entered, quickly using his delay to run down one of the halls and into a room that was dark and empty. It looked like a storage room but you managed to shut the door and close it, taking a moment to catch your breath. 

Why was he here?

You pulled up the building's blueprints, seeing the entire layout of the 70 story building. 

The room that had the explosives and ammunition in it was five stories above and you were on floor 50. 

Shouldn’t be too hard to go up so long as Red didn’t see you or the men working here didn’t try to kill you. 

Both out to kill you. 

You quickly took a deep breath, trying to plan an escape route before you heard the onslaught of bullets raiding the room you just came from. They must’ve seen Red. 

You quickly used the distraction as a way to slip out, watching as the men had a full blown shootout with Red. You quickly found the door that led to the staircase, watching the men to ensure you weren’t being spotted. You slid through the chaos seamlessly, almost reaching the door before you felt a bullet graze your ear and hit the wall next to you. You looked up and saw Red pointing his gun at you, giving away your silent escape. It made the men working in the building put their full attention on you, rushing towards you as you quickly ran out to the staircase, the men shooting bullets at you as you saw the massive drop down the stairs. You contemplated for a moment, before hearing the men barge through the doors. 

Now or never. 

You got up on the railing and pushed yourself off, using the momentum to fall down faster before using your grappling hook to grab onto the railing and pull yourself over to the side. The bullets were still raining down as the men ran down the stairs. 

You looked at the number on the staircase.

Floor 40. 

Dammit!

You punched the floor in anger, trying to get your shit together before this entire mission went to shit. Red had to ruin everything. You wanted a bullet in his head and you wanted to watch him bleed out. 

You pushed yourself up, grabbing the door handle and trying to find an alternative route. 

You noticed the elevator. It was a stupid idea, but the stairway was blocked and you probably had a better chance at reaching level 55 through there than you did the stairs. 

The outside of the building also left you too exposed. The vents were not interconnected to go upwards so the only real option was the elevator. 

You quickly ran over, pressing the up button as it dinged open. 

You walked in and pressed level 55, the doors closing as you watched the number go up slowly.

43, 44, 45, 46, 47… 

The door dinged open, your eyes making contact with an older, gray haired man. You pulled out your gun only for him to push it upward, the bullet escaping the elevator as he shoved his way in. The door closed and he kept trying to aim punches at you, your body twisted around and dodging but he still managed to land a few hits. He wrapped an arm around your throat, having you in a headlock as he tried to suffocate you. You struggled against him before using the wall of the elevator to push off and hit him on the other side of the small space. 

“You little bitch.”, he muttered as he threw another hit at you, hitting you in the stomach as you managed to dig your knife out of the sheath and dig it into his leg, shoving it full force and pulling it out before you dug it into the curve of his neck, his eyes wide in shock as you held his gaze. 

You wanted this motherfucker’s last thing to see to be you. You wanted him to know not to mess with Penguin or Black Mask. You needed them to know not to fuck with you. 

“I’ve been called worse.” you bit out as you pulled the knife out, watching as he choked on his own blood, the anger in your eyes as he reached an arm out, his strangled noises sounding out as he struggled to make noise. His blood staining your boots and the bottom of your suit. 

Your narrowed eyes stayed focused on him until you visibly saw life vanish from his eyes.

The elevator doors opening and the ding sounding out right as his eyes faded into a gray nothingness.  

Little bitch. 

You walked out, looking around to see if any of the men were nearby, carefully treading through the floor as you pulled up the blueprints, the ammunition room just a few hallways down. You quickly moved through the halls before a wave of annoyance flooded through your veins. 

Two more men rounded the corner, the guns aimed at you as an endless round of bullets sounded out, your body quickly moving around and jumping up, kicking one of them in the head with your solid boot as you twisted around and threw your knife into the shoulder of the other man. 

You quickly jumped on his shoulders, pushing the knife in and your hands gripping his head, your eyes meeting his wide ones before you smirked and cracked his neck to the side, snapping it as his lifeless body fell to the ground. You pulled the knife out of his shoulder, ripping his flesh as the blood stained the ground before lifting the other's head off the ground. 

“200 rounds a second and you’re still too slow.”, you bit out. “Now let’s use the last of your life span for good. Who sold the ammunition and explosives to your buyer?”

“As if I would tell you, you bitch.”, he bit out. “But what does it matter, our job is being carried out tonight.”

You narrowed your eyes, digging your knife into the man’s shoulder. 

“I won’t fucking ask again. Next time, it’s through your thick skull.”, you threatened, your face getting closer to his before you repeated yourself. “Who sold you deadbeats the ammunition?”

The venom in your voice made the impact of your words hit harder, but the man laughed maniacally before he tried reaching for his gun. You had about enough of these brainless henchmen. 

You ripped the knife out of his shoulder, slamming it into the middle of his skull and twisting it, watching as he faded into a shell of a body. 

You pulled the knife out, cleaning the blood on the henchman’s body before putting it back into the sheath. 

The blueprints showed the ammunition was in the room around the corner, following its directions and pushing the door open. 

Your body stopped in your tracks. 

Oh fuck.

Your body moved forward, taking in the sight in front of you. 

There were crates of live ammunition filling the entirety of the wall, a live bomb in the middle of the room. It was at least 500 pounds. What were they fucking doing with this? What were they planning?

You moved around the ammunition, trying to ensure you didn’t set anything off. You examined the boxes, scanning the small codes on the crates trying to get the information from the distributor. The information was basic, it only had the type of ammunition, the weapon it could be used for and the address of the building. No real intel into who was in charge of the trade. 

A part of you guessed it might’ve been Red who orchestrated this whole thing, but he wasn’t in good with most of the dealers in Gotham, only those who had no power. Who could it have been?

You walked through the room, walking up to the bomb and examining it, the anxiety seeping into your bones. 

“You sure know how to leave a blood trail don’t you sweetheart?”

You turned, quickly aiming your gun at the voice. Red. 

“Really? You’re going to risk shooting me and setting that”, he motioned at the bomb. “Off?”

You looked at the bomb, then met his gaze again before letting the gun fall. 

“No.”, you muttered. “I’m not here for this. Take it for all I care.”

You walked towards the door, trying to get past him and leave the death trap behind you but you felt his hand wrap around your wrist and slam you into the ground. You let out a grunt in pain before twisting your body around, trying to fight his grasp. You wriggled under him as his body weighed on yours. 

“Careful sweetheart, you can’t afford a third strike.”

“Fuck off.”, you met his gaze, his bright helmet in your face as your eyes hardened.

“As much as I enjoy our little run-ins, I can’t have you leaving with that flash drive.”

You noticed his hand brushing against your sides, his touch leaving your skin full of heat and irritation. You pushed your hips upward, slamming into him with force to throw him off of you. You bit into his hand, using the only opening you had to get him to loosen his grip. 

Your body twisted out of his grasp, pushing yourself to your feet before you stopped in your tracks. That smell….

“Oh, I love feisty women.”, Red said with a smirk in his tone. You almost physically gagged at his comment. You had about enough of men with huge egos. 

“Red.”, you said seriously. 

“C’mon sweetheart, show me what Penguin’s training has done for you.”

You ran at him, jumping and swinging your foot around and hitting him on the side of his head, hearing the subtle crack of his helmet. He lifted his arms up, throwing hits at you as you moved to avoid the direct hits. He swung around, his hand gripping around your throat as you tried grabbing for your knife, your oxygen being cut off. His grip tightened, throwing you to the ground before placing a boot on your chest, your hands wrapping around his ankle. 

“Get off of me!”, you struggled against his weight, hitting him with forceful punches to try and get him off. 

“I like seeing you under me like this, it makes this entire job worth it.”

He could not be fucking serious right now!

“Red!”, you yelled at him. You could feel your senses going into overdrive, the smell filling the room faster by the second. You were surprised he hadn’t felt it yet. 

An alarm rang out and he finally stepped away from you, the crackling sound faint but growing by the second. He looked towards the door, seeing the bright red burn in the hallway. “Well, it was fun sweetheart, see you on our next date.”. 

He turned to leave, jumping out the window and climbing up the side of the building. You could feel the smell getting stronger, the building getting hotter and the smell of smoke growing. You were not going to die here. You walked over to the window, pulling yourself out and going up the side of the building. 

Red had already made it to the top, looking over the ledge to ensure you weren’t following. His eyes narrowed and laughed at himself. 

Good luck, Sweetheart. 

He turned, starting to run to jump off of the building, stopping in his tracks at the sight of you pointing a gun at him. “Where do you think you’re going?”, you kept your gun pointed at him, aiming for the center of his helmet, his eyes narrowing. 

“You’re doing this now?”, he bit, his hands balled into fists in annoyance.

“Is the big bad wolf of Gotham scared of a little fire?”

“The fucking building is covered in gasoline, there’s a 500 pound bomb in the building that could go off at any second and you’re trying to fucking taunt me?”

“Is that a yes?” you cocked your head.

“You’re insane”, he threw at you, his body ready to get out of this death trap. 

“”I’ve been called worse.”, you grinned, it was a game of chicken, first to break would be giving up the upper hand. The crackling of the fire expanded, the sound of the floors collapsing ringing out as Red stared at you, his body language showing that he was stuck in between staying or running. You knew it was stupid, you knew it could get you killed but a part of you didn’t care. You wanted to show him you weren’t scared, that he wasn’t as big and bad as he made himself out to be. The Red Hood was just as human as anyone else. You were forcing him into a corner and you were loving it. 

The fire surrounded the both of you, the faint ringing of the bomb about to go off, the five second alarm, you smirked. 

“Goddammit!”, he yelled, pushing his guns back into his holsters and watching the building start to collapse behind you, only having milliseconds before the entire building caved. 

You both turned at the same time, trying to keep up with the semi stable ground as the floor caved under your feet, almost cashing you to trip. You kept running to the ledge and launching yourself over the edge, falling down towards the street, you turned to see the building combust into a cloud of smoke and ember. You went to grab your grappling hook, your aim towards the building across, only to see the trigger fail. You kept trying it before you realized it was broken. The building slowly collapsing, the impact almost throwing you off as you felt a burning sensation in your arm. 

Dammit!

Your head blanked, your anger about to consume you before you felt an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you in. You felt your body flush against Red as he swung the two of you into the nearby building and broke the window as you tumbled to the ground, your lungs burning for fresh air. You heard the glass shatter around you, your heart pounding in your chest. The force of the explosion had broken the windows around you, the glass chattering on the floor. 

Holy Shit. 

You really just forced Red Hood into a corner. And won. 

Red’s body covered yours, your frame right under his as the glass surrounded you and the burning heat radiated from the building next door. You turned to look at him, his body next to yours as you felt a heat radiating off of his body. His arms still wrapped around you before you pushed yourself away from him and rose to your feet. 

“You have a death wish”, he bit out for the second time. You rolled your eyes before walking back over to the ledge, looking out the window and watching the building as it burned from the explosives. 

“Where are you going?”, he pushed himself off the ground, watching as your eyes stayed focused on the fire. 

“I’m going home.”, you bit out, his figure moving closer to yours as he looked at the burning building. 

“You have a burn on your arm.”, he pointed out as you raised your arm up to see the burn, still not registering in your head due to the adrenaline. 

“I think I’ll survive.”, you turned to leave, his hand wrapping around your wrist, your body reacting naturally and pulling away. “What the hell?!”

“That burn looks like it’s a first, possibly second degree, you need to get it checked out and wrapped.”

“I said, I’m fine.”, you turned and he stepped in front of you, narrowing his eyes as he grabbed your arm, pulling out a small bandage and a container containing burn cream. He placed some on your arm before wrapping the bandage around, securing it before you even had time to disagree. 

You watched him with intent eyes, your pride not allowing you to thank the hooded vigilante. Hell, you shouldn’t even allow him to help you. You should just put a bullet through his head right now. If Penguin or Black Mask saw you right now… 

He finished wrapping your arm, his gaze focused on you and the silence building an unbreakable tension, your eyes locked on each other, his hand still on your arm. Neither of you moved, his body close to yours as you felt your eyes soften a fraction before snapping out of your trance. 

You pulled away from him, turning towards the opposite side of the building, the silence growing. You had nothing to say to him. He was the enemy. You had one mission and that was to kill him. You kept repeating that to yourself, letting him off the hook this once just for helping you. 

“Make sure to change the wrapping in two days or it’ll get worse.”, your ears perked at his voice, turning to look at him but he was already gone by the time you looked back.

This will be your only free pass. 

You thought to yourself before turning towards the door, and getting out of the abandoned building, heading home to get some rest from the stress of the night.

Your intel could be shared tomorrow. 

The past few days went by quickly, your burn had gotten better and you felt a lot stronger after you let your body rest. You had a hard time breathing after the fire and Penguin gave you a connection to the doctor he had on his payroll. He only stated you had a bit of smoke inhalation and it was nothing serious. You just needed a few days off to rest and recuperate your energy. So you spent the days after the fire cleaning your apartment, taking a few walks around the city, and enjoying your short lived time off before you returned to work that weekend. 

Later that night, you wandered to the roof of your apartment building, wearing only pajama shorts and a crop top and left your entire midsection exposed to the wind. You looked down at the road beneath you, remembering the lifetime you once lived in when you’d sit on the roof of that old building with Robin. You couldn’t bring yourself to forget him even after six years, it felt strange especially when you still held a piece of him with you. Just when you thought you would get to know the real him, he vanished. You never got to know him, you only knew he belonged to the life you’d hoped to never be a part of and that he belonged to Batman. He knew the hate you had for the city, the cruelty it had brought onto you. He understood and he comforted you. He was probably the only person in Gotham who understood you back then, and yet, he disappeared. 

You felt anger as you gently touched the necklace that he gifted you for your birthday so long ago. It was your good luck charm. It had kept you alive for months, keeping you out of danger. The only time you didn’t have it on, you almost got killed in a street mugging only to be saved by Penguin at such a young age. He trained you, prepared you for this life and his payout made you stay. You couldn’t refuse his offer to work under him. You had become part of the very life you swore you’d never go into. Now, it was too late to turn back. 

You replayed the words Red had told you, saying you weren’t special but you knew that your specialties were coveted all around the underground circles of Gotham. You were smarter, more calculated and strategic than the majority of the men in Gotham. You had earned your place and you were not going to let some power hungry lowlife tell you otherwise. 

You stayed focused on the moving vehicles down below, taking in the lights illuminating the street as you let out a breath, your shoulders dropping as you stayed still. You didn’t move, you couldn’t feel anything. You just felt…. Tired. Exhausted. Burned out. You couldn’t even bring yourself to move when you felt the cold press as the barrel of the gun was pointed to the back of your head. 

“Hey, Sweetheart.”, the distorted voice sounded from behind you, his form an arm length away as his arm stayed up, cocking his gun as it stayed glued to your head. 

You turned your head slightly, enough for your eye to look back at him, the tiredness evident from the bags under your eyes and the stress marked in the lines of your face. Red didn’t care, you knew he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was him getting rid of you and keeping you out of his way. 

“Are you going to shoot me?”, you asked flatly, unsure as to why you would question him when he had the upper hand in this situation. You couldn’t bring yourself to care how the hell he even found you here, your tiredness overwhelming your senses. You were ready to crash. 

After the eventful week you had, you couldn’t give a damn if he truly chose to pull the trigger, a part of you cocky enough to believe he wouldn’t actually do it. He would have already if he was serious. 

“It’ll send my message to your pig of a boss.”, his annoyed tone still managed to stay evident through his distorter, causing you to scoff silently to yourself. 

“Do it then”, challenging him was the worst thing you could do right now, but a part of you wanted to test his limits. How ruthless was Gotham’s infamous new cold-blooded killer? “You’ve been trying to kill me for the past month now, what’s stopping you now that you have a clear shot?”

Your eye contact didn’t break, the gun pointed at the center of your head as you turned around. He stayed locked on your gaze, his eyes narrowing as you watched him uncock the gun and put it back into the holster that was wrapped around his muscular thighs. “Go before I change my mind.”, his voice was clipped, almost in annoyance.

“You followed me. I don’t have to go anywhere, asshole.”, you scoffed. 

“Go. Home.”, he stepped towards you, his body towering over yours, still not breaking eye contact with you. “Don’t make me take back my act of kindness”

“You’re anything but kind.”, you spat at him, the poison in your words falling flat from the tiredness. His body leaned over yours, focused on you as you held his gaze.

You could tell he was hot with anger with the way his body tensed. You felt another wave of words come up your throat, the sentence quickly dying as he put his hand around your throat. Not tight enough to hurt you, but enough to keep you quiet. 

“I won’t repeat myself again, (Y/n).”, he moved you closer to him. “Go. Home.” You glared at him before delivering a hit to the side of his neck, forcing him to let you go. 

You stepped back, ready to retaliate if he touched you again. He rubbed the sore spot before running at you, letting you jump over him, twisting your body in order to deliver a kick to the back of his head. You noticed a small crack on the back of his helmet, the kick delivering the damage. 

You landed on your feet and he punched the ground, his arms flexing as he pushed himself up, his eyes narrowed on you. You ran toward him, trying to land another hit but he grabbed your arm and flung you over his shoulder, the concrete making your bones crack. 

You tried charging at him again, jumping over him only to feel his hands grab your ankle and slam you down, your head connecting with the ground hard enough to leave you with a possible concussion. 

You tried to stand, only to feel that familiar combat boot on your chest. You wrapped your hands around his ankle, trying to get the weight off but stopped when you heard the cocking of his pistol. He stood over you, arm outstretched as he aimed the gun at your head for the second time tonight. 

You grunted, punching his leg only to be met with the hardness of kevlar plates. The oxygen was slowly fading, you knew he was trying to immobilize you and apparently making you suffocate was his favorite way of doing so. 

“Get off of me!”, you struggled against his weight.

“I told you to go before I changed my mind, sweetheart.”, his gun still locked on you. 

You punched his leg, trying to wriggle out from under his boot but failed. He didn’t falter, he just pushed his boot further down. 

“Let me go god dammit!”

“You really think I'll let you go after you just pulled this shit?”

“Just let me go!”, you struggled, finally stopping as you met his eyeline. Your eyes were filled with tiredness, anger, resentment, but you lost all your energy to try and fight him. You kept squirming until you felt the massive combat boot pull off your chest. You quickly stood to your feet taking a few steps backward. This bastard had it coming. 

“Go.” he pushed the guns into their holsters, turning away as you stood there panting. You didn’t say a word, unsure of what to say or do. You needed to go home. You relaxed, moving around him to head back to the ladder that led to your apartment window. As you reached the ledge, that distorted voice rang out. 

“This is a one time deal.” his voice called “Next time, I won't hesitate to shoot.”

You turned to look at him, but by the time you did he was already gone. You started down the ladder, reaching the window and forcing it open, climbing in and locking it.

You started undressing, ripping the clothes off as the sweat stuck to your body. You felt gross, exhausted, sore. The shower couldn’t wait anymore. you turned the handle and let the water warm, not before examining yourself in the mirror. 

Bruises, gashes, burns, and cuts littered your body, from your shoulders to your stomach and thighs, you were covered in them. You examined each one, taking in and remembering exactly how you got them. Each one from a job, an operation gone wrong, or most recently, encounters with Red. You didn’t know how much longer your body could take dealing with the physical trauma from the jobs you were given, but you needed to tough it out if you were ever going to get out of Gotham.

You walked under the water, the warmth flooding over your body. Rubbing all the dirt and sweat off before you turned it off and stepped out, changing into an oversized shirt and drying your hair. You looked out the window, the light shining in before you turned over and fell asleep, the day finally catching up to you as you drifted out of consciousness. 

A/N:

This chapter might be one of the shorter ones I’ll end up writing, just to get things moving along. I already have Chapter 3 in drafts and it’s roughly 10K like chapter 1. Can’t say every chapter will be that long but we have a lot to cover to king chapters it is!

I truly hope you’re enjoying this series as much as I am writing it and please share, like, comment! Give me your thoughts I would love to hear them!

See you next week! xx.

[natti-ice]

Sirius Black Blurb.

Pairing: Sirius Black x slytherin!gn!reader

Warnings: none.

Author’s note: this is a reupload, I wrote this a while ago!

Reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated<3

You couldn't believe this happened, of all people to get stuck with it had to be him. You received detention for accidentally falling asleep in Binns class, why were there so many Goblin rebellions? Now, you were standing in the middle of the woods in mid-November with Sirius Black.

For some reason, Sirius had taken a strong liking to you. You couldn't understand why though, it should be textbook rivalry since you're a Slytherin and he's a Gryffindor but he seems to believe you belong together.

Since term began he has been asking you to go to Hogsmeade, you were taken aback at first because you honestly didn't think he knew who you were. The first time you said no out of pure shock, but you also were afraid it was some sick joke.

Sirius is probably the most attractive boy in the school, you can't walk two feet without hearing some girls talking about his 'beautiful hair' but he also has a reputation. Not in the "heartbreaker" sense but in the "liking to play cruel jokes" sense, you've seen some of the pranks he's pulled around school, and you would not let yourself fall victim.

It was just starting to get cold in Scotland, the air was crisp as it slapped you in the face as you walked deeper into the forest. Sirius was by your side using his wand to guide you two through the dark path. It was just your luck that this week's detention was to gather food for whatever creature Hagrid decided to bring home this year. You never understood how any of those pets were legal.

You left your jacket in your dorm because some third year accidentally spilled her drink on you during dinner and it was completely soaked, it wasn't freezing so you figured you could bare through it but as it got later the wind picked up.

You shivered as another gust of wind hit you, you felt goosebumps forming up and down your arms.

"Take my jacket" Sirius said breaking the silence

"What?" you asked, you didn't realize he was watching you "I'm fine"

"You're cold." He told you, the look in his eyes was telling you to give it up

"Am not." You internally cringed at how juvenile you sounded

"Right" Sirius chuckled, disregarding what you just said Sirius took off his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders before you could refuse again.

You couldn't deny how good it felt, it was so warm and it was a little big so it felt like a giant hug.

"Now you'll be cold," you told him pulling the fabric closer to your body

"Don't worry about me, sweetheart" his voice was smooth and intoxicating

Your heart fluttered at the nickname, "Don't call me that" you said hoping he could hear nerves in your voice

"Did I do something to offend you?" Sirius asked, his tone wasn't telling but he truly cared how you felt about him, he hated that you were so closed off around him

"No" your tone softened

"Then why do you avoid me so much? I feel I must've done something to make you hate me" He laughed painfully

"I don't hate you, Sirius" by this point you two had completely stopped looking for that weird bug you couldn't remember the name of. "I'm just confused"

"About what?"

"The fact that you keep asking me out, I mean out of everyone? Me? Aren't we supposed to be sworn enemies?" You questioned

"Well, if you would've asked me that two years ago I would have said yes," he paused and read your expression before continuing "but that's all so childish now. I like you and I would really like to take you out" a boyish smile played across his lip.

You stayed silent taking in what he just said, as much as you didn't want to admit it you actually wanted to go out with him. You let out a small sigh

"Fine" you say "one date"

"Really?" the moonlight shone just right between the trees so you could see the sparkle in his eye as you finally agreed

"Yes Sirius, I'll go out with you" you fought back a smile but it inevitably won.

Before you knew it your feet had left the ground, Sirius spun you around in the air and then firmly placed you back on the ground. "You won't regret it, I promise" he said with a wide grin

You laughed at his eagerness as you tried to brush away the thought of how nice it felt to be in his arms.

[shinakazami1]

Transcript of IGN Handsome Jack QnA

This thing doesn't have the whole text but - questions and some of my fav Meg-Jack interactions :^] I tried to write their speech patterns as close as possible

Transcript under the cut:

0:30: Question: Is Buttstallion the best horse ever Jack : Well it’s my horse. That I made her ( <- FACT CHECK: he bought her) out-out of diamonds, so…

0:45 Q: What it’s like wearing a face (mask - though in video it's funnily shown) J: It’s not a mask, it’s a freaking face! Do people think I’m wearing a freaking mask on my face? MEG!! I’m kidding. You’re cute tho. You know what it’s like—do you ever put a onesie on right out of the dryer? (whisper) it’s like that. (normal volume) It’s cosy. It just feels right. And a cool thing about wearing a face is – you can swap them out with however many people you kill in course of an afternoon or a week or whatever. You get off that face – you put on another one! (laughs mid-sentence) It’s fantastic. I can look at whoever. I could look like you Meg if I wanted to. I might later. Wear your face.

1:43 Q: Boxers or briefs? J: Commando!

1:50 Q: What dead celebrity would you bring back? J: Tom Cruise. (learning he is still alive) He’s not dead. Oh. Well-well let’s kill him and then I can bring him back to life or whatever.

2:10 -2:52 (Off top) J: Where did you get these pretzels Meg: From the Hyperion vending machine J: They’re delicious. (long silence) They’re good. (longer) I promise someone will clean it up – my God that’s what happens If you drink beer at lunch, people!

(….) J: Pandorian, people are dumb but loyal. M: I’m loyal sir. I’m very, very very- J: Nah, so much of this. M: Oh yes, sir.

2:15 (Answer 3:25) Q: Do people recognise your voice in public? J: I’m all over the fucking place. I’m in megaphones, I’m in-in like convenience store, vending machines so—yeah. Yeah uh, I have to say. Yeah.

3:48 Q: Favourite type of weapon? J: What do you think, Meg? M: Uhh-anything that kills, sir. J: Well, I would say Hyperion would be a good start, wouldn’t you. M: (louder, nervously) That would be a very good start. J: There you go. Smart… uh. (Awkward horrible silence he prob wanted to say ‘smart girl’ and im glad he didn’t say it cus Jesus Christ man how much cringe can you spout out of your mouth). Anything made by Hyperion and anything that and anything that inflicts, like you said. Fairness to you. The most damage possible.

4:09 Q: (person wanted a greeting for her cat Tunses) J: Hey Tunses.

4:30 Q: Which Vault Hunter do you hate the least and which the most? J: I try not to play favourites. I hate them all the same. M: They’re all pretty terribl- J: (growling) They’re all equally hateable. M: They’re all pretty terrible. (you go girl say your lines) J: Each and every one of them. M: They all want to kill you, sir. J: God I hate them so much.

(Off top) J: (soft laugh) I enjoy your company M: You would make a great voice actor, sir. J: You know I’ve heard that! Yeah yeah yeah – people tell me sh# t all the time. You know. Like : , uh- I (chuckles) get that you, babe- M: You can cook, sir?! J: I- uh, um, I, uh – yeah. I'm really quite handy in the kitchen. M: Yeah? J: Yeah. M: What do you like to make sir. J: I find it- I find it z-zens me out after coming home and washing all the blood out of my clothes.

5:25 Q: Why are you so perfect? J: I don’t know, ask my mom. (pause) You can’t – you can’t because she’s dead, I killed her – but if she was alive, you could ask my mom.

(offtop) J: (playing the game) Where is my oxygen level? M: So, your oxygen level isssss – where the hell is it? J; Come on Meg – I cannot with your (Meg breaks out laughing) you stupid little sh#t like this (they both laugh) and you’re letting me dooown. M: Oh my God I’m the worst!! J: No it’s right over (chin upfront sounding voice idk how else to call him becoming a goblin) it’s right over there, did your little brain fall out of your head, Meg? M: Sorry, should be on your map. J: (genuine soft sounding) Why am I so mean to you? M: I don’t know, sir. J: (still soft, but cool persona) AAA that’s cus of what- that’s what I do.

J: How does Handsome Jack butt slam? M: I think youuuu- J: Anyway he likes (laughs) M: (chuckles) Yes, yes, exactly- J: Joke right there. Welcome

(…) J: That’s what the hip kid say. Instead of , they say (he becomes sonic and laughs like him). Did you know that? M: No, sir J: Yeah. That’s what they do.

(…) M: (after Jack killed a few monsters) Good job! J: Thank you Meg! Thank you for being such a loyal supporter. M: Absolutely sir: J: Really appreciate you, Meg. M: You do sir??? J: Claptrap (HEEEELP THE TIMING??? WHY DOES HE SAY THIS) M: That’s great. Oh- J: I appreciate you Claptrap.

(…) J: Gotta get some things- M: Yes. J: Gotta get some uh- hopefully some grenades. I love- I love the grenades! I got to say, I’m a huge fan (starts chuckling) blowing sh#t up.

7:25 Q: Is Handsome Jack happy? J: (laughs) That’s a great question. It’s deep, isn’t it? Um, there’s a lot of smiling going on here (chuckle) but really, I’m dead inside. It seems like everything I say has just a weird connotation to it. Some kind of inappropriate connotation to it. (sincere) Did you- did you ever noticed that? M: No, sir. J: Good answer! (laughs)

(Offtop) J: Ah for f#ck sake (kills a skag) M: That’s where you’re supposed to go. J: That’s – so I got to go outside. M: Yeah, you have to go outside. J: So you were right. Before. First time for everything, Claptrap. M: Yes. Yes sir. J: Yes siiiir.

(…) M: You’re doing great, sir. J: Atta girl. (pause) I got- I got to stop saying that. (laughs) Okay (nervous chuckles continue) M: And you got another badass rank so you can use that as well. J: Oh, okay – that’s see- now that is some useful information. M: (joyful and surprised) Really?? J: Yeah!

(…) J: (Asks about a game feature. Ben, someone out of the mic, answers before Meg in a monotone voice) Why is Ben so much smarter than you. Ummm- (nervous chuckle turning into silent cry-laugh between Meg and him) M: I’m doing my best sir. J: Ay-ay.

(…) J: What the f that just happened here. That just- I just picked that and now I can-okay. M: You have- you have- you have multiple. So it-do-does it— J: Oh, you’re God, how do you make so much sense when you say things. (…) J: (talking about enemy name pronounciation) Had to do an r-roll with that criiiticic crrrretin (??? im sorry I cant hear it well 9:15 pls help ) M: That’s very – that’s very fancy, sir. J: Mmm. You know what I am? M: What are you? J: I’m so fancy. M: You’re- J: I’m schmancy. (Meg snickers) You cut that one out too, Ben. That was- that was some bullsh#t (laughs) M: You’re so fancy, we already know.

(…) J: (About game dialogue) I don’t know who that is but I find them (emphasis) extrrrRRREMELY annoying. M: Oh they are the Vault Hunters si- J: (immediately) God they’re f#cking annoying, aren’t they. M: They are really, really annoyin- J: I feel like they’re trying too hard, that’s the thing. That’s the thing that’s standing out for me here. M: Yes, I think you should kill them. J: It’s one thing to be naturally funny and then there’s another – it’s another thing to- to be like – you know what I mean like – put yourself out there too much, feel like you’re overcompensating is the world I’m looking for. M: Don’t think you have to worry about that at all. J: (smooth convo swap) You know what I’m liking the most about this game? M: What do you like- J: The lack of Claptrap. M: Oh-uh, well, he is, he’s in here, if you want to- J: Listen, that’s fine – I’m in a good mood run right now, you don’t have to ruin it byyy talking about how I’m going to run into Claptrap. M: (silence) Okay sir. I’ll be quiet, sir. (pause) Yes. (pause) OH!! There’s Claptrap (in-game) Claptrap: HELLOOO- J: Oh you little son of a b#tch. Welcome to the pit of pseudo-solid sorrows, that is some alliteration. That’s a literary term for (long sign) all you people that didn’t finish school. Meg. Arena – of, partially see-through Triumph, the Hippodrome of marginally tangible everything else. (quieter) Do that make any sense to you? M: (joyful) No sir.

(…) Axton (in-game): Is it going to be a LONG story? Gaige (in-game): Yeah, just give us the Bluff’s Notes. J: (Jack is mimicking Axton’s voice) Wait, is it going to be a loooooong story? M: Yeah, they just keep talking- J: Axton is a handsome guy. M: Kinda looks like you sir- J: A little TOO handsome, if you ask me. M: He’s not as handsome as you. J: Well- I mean (chuckles) good luck with that, right. M: I mean, he might sort of be but- J: Oi! (pause) Slow your roll, sister. All right – wait, I was too busy talking, cus I love the sound of my own voice, now the f#ck am I doing? Am I loaded for bear? (Meg is trying to talk) Oh wait- M: I feel you are. No, you’re full (on amo), oh- J: Oh yeah, okay. That’s what she said. (immediately quickly nervously) Joking there. Okay if you want to, TAKE IT MAG feel free take it. M: No, that’s- J: (forceful) TAKE the joke, MAAG. M: I-I- J: Take the joke or you’re fired, Mag – or wait actually – take the joke or I’ll set you on fire, Meg. M: (playful) That’s what she said, yeah? J: God it just-it just sounds so much better coming from you for some reason.

(…) J: I think living on the moon would kind of suck. M: Why? J: I mean uh- I mean if you had to run like this all the time, you’d think it would be more advantageous or better than uhh, running –uh, say with like, uh, gravity? M: (smacks lips) Yeah, but you can do- J: Yeah but gravity Meg, is something it’s-it’s a force of energy that keeps the- it’s the Earth and the moon create, and it keeps things on the… neverm- ff, M: That was a great explanation, sir. J: (defeated) That’s fine. M: I have no idea what the hell you just said. J: (chuckles) It’s really – it was really scientific, wasn’t it? - M: It’s a thing! J: It’s a thing with the… M: I think it’s a good place to wrap this up.

(….) J: You want to do another-another thing? M: Uhh, I don’t, I don’t think we have time to do another thing, sir. J: Is that because I’m so busy and important that I have to go do stuff that is, I have people to do, and places to see- M: You’re- J: Places to see and people- I mean, places to go, people to see, things to do. M: All that. J: Yeah. M: All that more. J: Correct (laugh) Well listen, kids, first of all – you’re welcome, because this has been a real treat. Sorry about- what was your name again? M: Meg. J: Yeah, she tries real hard but uhh- let’s face it. Uhhh I don’t know. We will see. M: Thanks. J: You still might get a retirement package out of this. M: Oh- that’s great. That’s uhh- J: But it’s been a lot of fun, will go to build homeless shelters, and, (pause and rapid speech) dig wells. M: In Africa. J: Yep. M: And by Africa, we mean Africa on Pandora. J: (giggle) Yes.

[yukishirostar]

So people are talking about a post in the Zolu tag by a certain tumblr user in regards to their issues with Zolu as a ship. They shall be unnamed because i dont wish to bring attention to them and instead just want to focus on their arguments because they're not the first people to make some of these points and so this is also an opportunity for me to talk about these things (a tweet is going around on Twitter containing these screenshots with the username so you can find it there if you need to anyway).

The way this person dismisses the relationship between Zoro and Luffy as a result of needing to pair gay Zoro with someone is too laughable, they must be very fit in order to be able to do these mental gymnastics. I believe that many people who are going on about the Zolu scenes in the OPLA were already Zolu shippers who were familiar with the original story and are enjoying the moments because they were well, really good Zolu moments? And there is actually, shockingly, many good Zolu moments in the original story too which is why many people ship them. Wild, I know.

Then there's 'straight-washed Sanji'. Equally if not more of a bizarre thing to believe. I might make some people mad especially the Sanji stans out there who constantly insist on the 'repressed queer' narrative with his character, but Sanji is written pretty explicitly to be seen as a cisgender and heterosexual character. The way you say with your whole chest that Luffy is 'canonically' aroace but don't acknowledge that Sanji is 'canonically' cishet is beyond hypocritical. If you believe Sanji looking like a 'misogynistic straight man' is different from the way he is written in canon then maybe you should go back and reread/rewatch series with your eyes open this time. If you wish to headcanon him with the frankly offensive repressed bisexual/transgender cliché then go ahead, but that is clearly not the intention Oda has with his character.

There's also the fact that aroace people can uh. Be in relationships. Get married. Have children. Did it occur to you that many people who ship Zolu ship them as an ace couple or-

First thing I want to say here, as a trans man who is 'mlm', can other dudes stop with this idea that women or fem-aligned individuals enjoying homosexual relationships between two men is inherently fetishising or that as a masc-aligned individual your enjoyment of a ship is morally superior in some way. Stop pulling out your 'mlm/ transmasc / cis gay' card in order to justify why your ship is superior. Its cringe af.

But if we are to insist that 'cishet female gaze fetishising mlm' is going on then ironically Zosan fits that the better than any ship in the fandom. It being by far the most popular mlm ship means there is likely a higher proportion of people who identify as cishet women who ship it. Its also the classic 'two men who dislike/hate eachother and have a toxic relationship but hot sexual tension' slash/yaoi stereotype. Majority of Zosan I've come across is depicting Zoro as the masculine male man in the relationship while Sanji the effeminate twink that Sanji stans project themselves onto and they go crazy for the bickering that is apparently reminiscent to them of a toxic heterosexual marriage. Meanwhile every Zolu/Luzo shipper I've interacted with has been some flavour of queer and Zolu is closest to the 'falling in love with your same sex bestie' narrative that the majority if not every non-heterosexual person has experienced at least once in their lifetime. This is just my personal view of course, but I think noting a difference in perspective on this topic is interesting and reveals that at the end of the day this is totally subjective and based purely on anecdotes.

Also it's just a very weird point here that apparently OP has 'plenty of varied queer rep' (it actually doesn't have that many canonical queer characters in relation to its cast size but anyway) and other media doesn't so shipping aroace characters in gay relationships is valid in those but not in One Piece … HUH???? So you're saying if One Piece had 'less' queer rep, then Zolu would be fine to ship? Idek my brain hurts.

"I have black friends so I'll speak for the black community and get offended for them" (btw this person then proceeded to block aroace people who had issues with their depiction of aroace people).

Also if we're talking canonical depictions, the only thing Zoro has been canonically depicted as is also aroace, equally if not moreso than Luffy. So by your own rules, you can't ship a cishet (sanji) with an aroace (zoro), therefore Zosan is now invalid. Stop erasing Zoro's aroace identity bigot.

'Categorically wrong' makes me laugh. I don't ship Zoro and Nami but like, people can ship what they want to??

'The general public is aware enough of gay people and how to spot them these days' uh... firstly this sounds very homophobic. Secondly the general public (cishet ppl) are famously bad at recognising queerness even when its in flashing lights before them. Thirdly you make it sound like Zoro was going around on roller skates and booty shorts listening to YMCA and Madonna in the show. I do agree he was gay-coded but it was mostly because he had sexual tension with every man he interacted with, not for the strange reasons you pointed out...

Its kinda the elephant in the room too but like. These are just headcanons. You can have multiple headcanons and interpretations of a character's sexuality. I can see Zoro as aroace virgin one day and a gay h*e the next. I'm actually allowed, legally, to do that.

The way they think shipping Zolu is harmful to aroace representation when BOTH characters are closest to being canonically aroace than anything yet ship Zosan, label being anti-Zolu as some kind of pro-ace activism, and then proceeded to block aroace people for criticising their incorrect depiction of what being aroace is...

This was a lot of words to say that you don't like a ship. Just say you don't like it, and it gets in the way of the ship you like, instead of writing a virtue signalling essay to justify your reasoning. Please.

They had some more to say on future posts I'll just pick my favourite bits

They really have this narrative that Zolu is only popular because of OPLA and can't fathom that its just a popular ship in general and always has been huh. And they couldn't make it more obvious that they're totally salty about it ranking in the top 100 most popular tumblr ships, lmao.

Your classic case of 'self-identifying ally who speaks over the people they are supposed allies of'. Its a general rule that you feel the need to declare yourself an ally you're probably not an ally, actual allies know they need to just shut up and do the work. Saying 'this character's aroace' and 'I have aroace friends' actually isn't what allyship is, thats just accepting that ace people exist which is like... the baseline.

Calling a wholesome loving ship like Zolu an icky ship is a severe consequence of online brain (this person is 26 years old btw)

[anonlanza]

Sigh.. Another TCC related rant 🙏 a lot shorter but just some quick stuff I wanted to talk about

(Really just about the people on the app and in the community)

Making friends who are also tcc is so hard it's either cornballs, edgelords, or the most senstive people on earth. Like one how are you gonna be THIS sensitive about such little things when you're on the worse part of the internet. Or people who will be rude asf and then get mad cause someone's mean to them, like man up and grow a pair. How can you be surprised that there's bad people in a community based around mass killers and shooters? It just never makes sense.

But edgelords actually URK me to my core, like I'm so sorry but your ass is NOT Eric... I know I talk about columposers a ton but they just make me super mad. We don't need anymore school shootings, it's not a competition and you're just making a fool out of yourself. I think Columbine and couple other shootings were all we needed and to get past but there's just more and more each year. Its always by some edgelord found their dads gun and just so happens to know what Columbine is. And like I've said before their manifestos are all the same some fuckin "They're all gonna feel my wrath 👿"

No they aren't... you're gonna end up injuring two people and then just shooting yourself, shut up. Sometimes the shootings aren't just Columbine based and some are caused by serious illness but I feel like we should get those checked out before anything. Like if your child is clearly showing signs that somethings wrong then I don't know, maybe talk to them? Take them to a doctor? Call someone? Many shootings could be avoided this way or just simply putting metal detectors inside schools that face a lot of threat. Now I know that me just saying this won't do anything for the world and this is just me ranting.

On the same topics of edgelords I also hate two specific people, first one is the like cannibal97 guy or whatever his name is. The guy whose convinced he's Eric and people in his anon sections who are like "ohemgee you make me wet >_<" WHAT. Excuse me.

And he's always flirting with them, if someone (an anon may I add) starts flirting with you and you are 17 and older then don't respond. Because you might be talking to a minor or someone much younger than you, because I know a lot of people are 13-14 and it's weird if they're talking to a 17-19 year old. Then there's the argument of "Well the younger person sent it and/or it was anonymous,". Yes but you (a 17-19 year old AKA a grown adult with basic thinking skills) shouldn't reply because it was probably anonymous for a reason, maybe because they didn't want you to know their age.

The second person is the Dylann roof fan who's user is 88aryan-2 and she's a white girl and says the n word and just seems like a rude person in general. Like you are not Dylann's top gal buddy 🙏. He's not gonna be released from prision and shown your rainbow dash tumblr account and suddenly say "Wow!! She's just like me fr! Maybe I should talk to her!" This is not a drama show, this is Tumblr out of all places.

Now I don't mind Dylann roof fans because most of them talk about the fact that he's a bad person which is good but when you're just acting like him it's just kind of cringe. I feel weird when someone on here says the n-word because you can never fact check if they're actually black (this is coming from a white guy, I don't have much room to talk)

In general I just don't like a lot of people on here or in this community because most are rude or just bad people or just straight up hard to talk to and be around. Of course there's awesome and kind people on this app and I love talking to people who are like actually nice people and understand where I'm coming from. But it's always the people who only think racism and Columbine are the only funny things. I know I'm kind of a boring person but some of these people actually have the personalities of dried Mac n cheese. Please get an orginal or just better personality, find a cool game or a fun hobbie or better friends, maybe just find friends in general.

[pruneunfair]

Hello, excuse me, do you think you can do an analysis of the characters: Rasha and Layla pleaseI honestly can't understand the hate that some users have regarding these two characters who are pitiful, I mean, both Rasha and Layla can have one or another questionable moment but I honestly don't think that's the reason to hate them to the point of commenting things like "Rasha deserves her end or she deserves everything she lived through" "Layla deserves to be abused 🍇 by Mattias for being stupid and being the lover"Note: With this I'm not justifying Rasha's questionable things or that Layla has mixed feelings about her aggression, although the latter is more Stockholm syndrome, but it's regrettable when people hate them but can't understand or see beyond the social context in which these characters find themselves, Rasha being a runaway slave and Layla being a commoner without any power... it's sad how they hate women who are victims more that men are the ones who practically plan everything and use girls for their own ends.Psd: Do you also think you can talk about Stockholm syndrome? I've seen that on TikTok they usually blame Leyla for having this syndrome.

Thanks ❤️

it would be my absolute pleasure to.

Layla and Rashta. Two characters on the complete opposite sides of morality yet they are so similar in terms of past, love interests, and receiving hate from other people who don't give anyone a chance if they have a title of mistress.

Rashta is very easy to hate at first mostly because of her constant crying and being a thorn in Naviers side. It annoys people so much that it successfully distracted you from the fact that she's still a runaway slave. Constant crying isn't viewed as a response to trauma if it's a character people hate, the desire to survive isn't seen as such because it's "greed" for what Navier has. Everything about her is designed to be hated because she's a mistress and mistresses are all viewed as evil temptresses.

I'd honestly even say that her crimes were just used as an excuse for wanting her dead before she did anything. Older comments on the remarried empress proved it was never about morality. It was just about protecting the territory from anyone in need, since in the online community, being nice or in need of help is seen as "cringe"

Layla is hated though not as much as Rashta, she is still seen by many to be a silly strumpet who put herself in that situation even though she was 12, even though Matthias was 18 and knew what he was doing when he was purposely making that child cry. She had her whole life ahead of her, she wanted to graduate and be a teacher. Matthias's obsession with her readings to her being SA'D in the woods and she is further lying 🍇 when she has to become Matthias's mistress. Keep in mind, it's only for the sake of her uncle, she does not want to be this creepers lover.

Yet at the end of the story, she falls in love with him? Is it bad writing? Yes, but do you know what it also is? Stockholm syndrome. A syndrome/theory that explains why abuse victims fall in love with the people who hurt them. One reason is that they are too terrified to tell anyone the abuse and normalizes it as a coping mechanism, they can also develop anxiety, PTSD, or depression, and Layla won't be able to recover in a world where her abuser has won and everyone sees the abuse as just a love story. She's going to have to live with the idea that Matthias did nothing wrong and that it was her fault for rejecting the idea that she could've "loved" him all this time.

Why is it common to hate on women like this? Because of both a lack of critical thinking and research. We often hear the term "mistress" or "concubine" and think "oh she's such a slut." But if we were to do a quick dive into history, theres more to it.

Concubines in ancient Chinese culture aren't all the sexy temptresses we think of now. The concubines who would have worn valuable clothing and lived the high life would've been high ranking concubines. Most other concubines lived in poor conditions where they had to fight for the emperors love for more favor so their living situation could increase, in many cases it was also so they could have more food and water. So in actual history, concubines fighting for the emperors love wasn't for love or even power. It was to live.

Even European mistresses weren't safe. Anne Boleyn is a great example of this. She herself was technically not a mistress since she did her best to reject Henry VIII and really only accepted because he was the king and who could say no to the king? Her telling him she'd only be with him if she could be the queen is even thought to be an attempt to get Henrry to go away, and as we know, he divorced his first wife and married Anne anyway. Anne was beheaded just 3 years later after failing to give birth to a son.

So while cry or better yet beg is a disgusting story, what they do get right even if unintentionally is the truth of what it's like to be a mistress when you are a commoner facing a Duke.

And Remarried empress would be a whole new story if the truth on how concubines were living in those days was known to all those commenters.

[laenaism]

Something that really bothered me about Corlys and Baela’s scene was the fact that Corlys ‘wanted’ to make Baela heir in the first place. Corlys has made it clear he does not value women, in the book and in the show. He was angry Rhaenys was passed over because he himself was also snubbed from that position of power. Corlys has shown no care for either of his children, he married both Laenor and Laena off with no care for their safety (you cannot tell me he didn’t have some hand in Laena marrying Daemon, at least in the show). All he truly cared about was his ambition which unfortunately is something that can be said for a lot of men in this universe. He loved Rhaenys, but Corlys definitely valued himself and his needs over everyone else in his life, all that matter was what he wanted. He only told Baela that he wanted to make her heir because that’s what Rhaenys asked of him the night of Laena’s funeral. And you know what happened? Corlys had the audacity to get mad at her for that! He felt guilty, so he decided he would honor Rhaenys and offer Baela the role of being heir. He didn’t actually want her to be so, he didn’t do it as an acknowledgement of her strength or leadership, he did it to honor Rhaenys because she died. He may not outright say it but he values men in a position of power way more than he ever would a woman. If Baela were to have accepted (which I believe she should have considering she has a better claim than Addam or Alyn) no doubt Corlys would have tried to worm his way out of it down the line. He was not a good grandfather to his granddaughters, he didn’t even know them, look at the way he spoke of Rhaena! She was Laena’s daughter and you don’t think she knew about ships or dragons? Okay deadbeat… I think Baela turning it down made sense, but I hate the reasoning she gave “I am made of blood and fire, Driftmark must pass to salt and sea,” like she is also made of ‘salt and sea’ 🥴 granted, she’s only a quarter Velaryon, but her mother was literally the only true parent she had before she died, why would she not care about carrying on that legacy? It doesn’t make sense considering Baela is all about family and loyalty. This isn’t hate on her, I love her, but I have to be honest, that line made me cringe lmao. That’s not Baela’s fault though, that’s Ryan Condal and Sara Hess’, fvck those writers! Regardless, Corlys should have offered it to Rhaena first in my opinion, she was going to be Lady of Driftmark with Lucerys, why shouldn’t she still be? Baela was going to be queen, the Lady of Driftmark would have been perfect for Rhaena if Corlys was just going to skip over Joffrey.

(Just a PSA) I’m not denying Baela and Rhaena are Targaryen, I know they are, but there’s no harm in acknowledging their Velaryon side as well. I’ve seen way too many people act like being a Velaryon is an insult and it’s very sus. As long as people aren’t being fvcking racist about it, I love when their mother’s Velaryon side is appreciated (though Laena was Targaryen as well which a lot of people somehow seem to forget considering the fact that Laena was prideful in being a Targaryen). The only reason I’d ever acknowledge them as Velaryon’s is because their mother was their main parental figure before Rhaenys, it was never about their skin color. The people who call them Velaryon’s because of their skin color, that’s when it’s racist and stupid, and unfortunately those people do exist.

[riddles-n-games]

That Night In Prague Rant

Let me start off by saying Hannah and Toby's story was amazing and heartbreaking, Libby and Nash were also sweet and supportive of one another, Xander is awesome at giving emotional depth to others even in the strange circumstance of tackling, and Secret Santa was quite literally a blast. But there's one story I haven't mentioned yet, have I? You know which one since it's the literal title to this rant/critique.

To get the basic pleasantries out of the way, I loved the promise ring scene, the way Jameson admires Avery lighting up and wanting to see the world through her eyes, the fact he wrote her postcards, and Avery's protectiveness of him. That's it. Great. Now we can get to the real stuff. My dear Jennifer Lynn Barnes, when you announced this book back in February during the month of romance, I recall that this book promised to deliver on ROMANTIC stories and showing us how a Hawthorne man loves. Why the heck did you keep trying to insert every possible wink wink nudge nudge moment possible in Avery's POV then?

When she stated Avery was gonna have a POV again, I was excited but I wasn't sure if I should leap for joy. See, given how Averyjameson were portrayed in the last book, I was somewhat disappointed since I really wanted to see Avery through Jameson's eyes in a more romantic light. It was an eyeroll, unfortunately, and what a missed chance for a wedding dress ref in the race outfit scene since he gave her a promise ring.

However, people were saying, ah, it's Jameson, he's a teenage boy. And ok, I did bite my tongue after that because alright, that's just him (though I am still bitter about his lack of development in TBH), but that wasn't the case with Avery. She's my girl, I can always rely on her, right? Three books of build up with a pretty solid character voice made her who she became in TFG. Cool, I was ready to go back. And as I said so many times before, she gave Jameson depth which helped us see what so many did not and I loved how she didn't let him get away with certain things. She was sensible.

WTF was this then? This is not Avery Kylie Grambs. This is A Very Random Imposter (you come up with the anagram). Imagine my fricken surprise when out of nowhere Jameson As A Girl.

The crimes of the story: "after a lengthy and not quite G-rated negotiation" (WT actual F), "like his body wasn't tense in all the right ways", "smile of his made me want to do things", “I would let him demonstrate all the many, many reasons he had to be that smug", "His search had been... thorough" (????).

This sounds so cringey and unlike Avery. It felt like JLB was trying to force Max and Jameson and Rohan into her POV. Clearly after only two years of not being in her original character's POV and changing through 5 main characters (which was a horrible idea in the first place), she's managed to mish-mash her only properly developed character into sounding like another person.

The innuendos here are the worst I've seen. Avery has never been crass or sexually charged so why start that now? We already have characters that take on that route and now you're trying to ruin Avery with that? PUH-lease. Jameson was enough in TBH and now you're trying to ruin my girl? NO. Absolutely NOT. If JLB wanted to implement this in the og trilogy, then it should have been done earlier but no, Avery was never that girl and she shouldn't be now.

This isn't and cannot be listed as character growth in the slightest because if she sounded the same after a year in TFG post THL and also sounded like her normal self in Secret Santa which is in the same book as TNIP, there should be no reason why she sounds like this here. It ruins the continuation in her character POV which is something that at this point should be solid as stone. Not to mention, not everything works for everyone and that's ok. While I hate it, it makes more sense in Jameson's POV than hers. In Avery's POV, I cringe at it because it sounds so unnatural for her and feels like I'm looking at someone trying to fit into a crowd they just don't mesh with.

Three books solidified that. Why else did we fall in love with TIG in the first place? Partly because of who Avery was and who she became over the course of the trilogy. She stood out amongst the crowd. Did she have a similar way of thinking about puzzles like Jameson? Yes. Did she have a different approach to romance? Yes. Did she help Jamie become a more sensible guy? Yes! Was their flirty banter fun and interesting? Always. That's part of what made me love them so much in the first place but it shifted so suddenly that now they're sounding like Savannah and Rohan.

In October, when we had the preview of more chapters, I immediately noted this sounds like a very different Avery, either older or an alternate universe version of her. If she wants to do this with Rohannah, go ahead; they're a new budding romance so that has room for whatever she didn't use in other ones but leave Averyjameson as we've known them to be for three novels that solidified who they are. I know other romances should be given a chance, I never said that shouldn't be the case but if I'm being given the chance to see my favorite ship being in the spotlight, then do it right one last time. You have three books as your guideline.

Anyways, I'm dissatisfied so I will be doing a rewrite of TNIP since this is a shorter thing to take care of than a whole novel. Have a great day and thanks for reading. Fics will be out at some point, God, so much real life work to do.