#what are their ideas about love and romance

[bogleech]

I know I wasn't the target audience of The Owl House anyway and it ultimately did what it set out to do, which was tell a sweet wholesome lgbt love story for teens with dark horror adventure elements, but I still wish it hadn't spent so much time being an off brand Harry Potter. It's a nice idea to give kids a Harry Potter that's completely antithetical to everything shitty about Harry Potter, but even when you "fix" Harry Potter it's still about going to school, which truly is not necessary to set up your kid characters with friends or romances, I promise, and more importantly, nothing to do with school can ever possibly be even 1% as interesting as what was initially promised - a cartoon wherein a little girl with attention deficit disorder helps a witch commit felonies.

[vampiric-tempt]

≡;- ꒰ °When they get jealous ꒱

➤ tw: slight suggestive themes

a/n: I've been really rusty with writing recently. Like really rusty, but I hope this is okay !! >:3

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Roronoa Zoro

Zoro’s brow twitched in annoyance as he heard your laughs across the deck. And not to him, but to the damn cook who swooned over your presence. 

Sanji continued to pepper your arms with kisses, giving you drinks and snacks whenever you wanted it. It was like he was crazier over you than anybody else on the ship. His partner. 

Zoro was too caught up in his thoughts, as he absent mindedly lifted his weights. 

“Zo?” You called. “Hey! Zo!” Your hands waved across his face causing him to jolt a little. 

“Y/n, hey.” Was all he said as he continued to lift his weights. 

You frowned. “Are you okay? You seem…off.”

“I’m fine.” He grunted, dropping his weights. He brushed past you and positioned himself for pushups.

You immediately knelt beside him with your lips pursed. You had a vague idea why he was acting this way and it was always for the same reason. “Y’know Sanji is just being nice.”

“Yeah.” Zoro deadpans. “Is kissing your arms nice?”

“N-no not necessarily…”

Zoro directed his eyes to the ground and started his routine. “We’re done here.” 

Not wanting to end the conversation, you persisted. “It’s just his nature Zo, y’know that. There’s no need to be jealous-”

“Jealous? Is that what you think this is?” He huffed. 

You bit the inside of your lips. “This is exactly what this is. I’m not blind.” 

Zoro halted his movements and moved to position himself in front of you. “Do you ever think to ask why I feel that way?”

“Can I ask now?” You leaned to meet his gaze. 

Zoro grumbled to himself. His hand rubbed against his neck. He didn’t know what he felt at that moment. Jealousy over Sanji, or the fluttery feeling in his stomach as you gave him that stupid look with your stupid cute eyes. “S’just I can’t provide the romance Sanji does. Sometimes I think you want that…and I can’t give it.”

A small smile reached your lips at Zoro’s vulnerability. “No, I think you’re perfect.”

The tips of Zoro’s ears reddened. “Yeah right.”

“No I’m being serious,” You scooted closer to him, hands tilting his head. “You’re my handsome boy.”

Zoro’s face flushed as he looked away, your gaze too strong. “Alright that’s enough!” He gently shoves you causing you to laugh. 

“What, I thought you liked that nickname?”

Zoro huffed. “I never said that.”

You hummed. “Are youuuu feeling any better?”

Zoro scratched the back of his head in thought and turned to you, a smirk across his face. “I will once you meet me in the bird’s nest tonight.”

Shaking your head you threw out a pinky “That’s a promise then, you dog.” 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Crocodile

Miss All Sunday was a beautiful woman. Crocodile knew that, but he didn’t like the way she had you all over her. You were soooo curious about the books she has read, why didn’t you ask him about books. He read too. 

About five more minutes, Crocodile had enough. He made his way over and hooked you toward him. “Miss All Sunday, I think you’ve had something of mine a little too long. I require my partner’s presence now.” 

Robin smiled, she knew her actions had irked the man. “My apologies, I wasn’t aware you could get so jealous of us bonding over books?” 

Crocodile tsked and left without a second to spare, dragging you along with his hook. 

“You were jealous?” You asked, a hint of amusement to your voice. 

“Hardly, I merely wanted you is all.”

“Yeahh.” You dropped the subject and allowed your lover to drag you through the long corridor till you both stopped at a pair of dark oak doors. 

His hook ushered you in and you gasped at the sight. It was a large old looking library. “Since when was this here?” You awed. 

“Since forever. I just never bothered with it. But you, my love, seem to have an interest in books.”

You smirked. “So you were jealous. It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

Crocodile rolled his eyes. “My love, if it’s books you want, I have way more than what that woman can give.” 

“And I appreciate the show of love.” Your hands dragged across the dusty books. “This actually means a lot, thank you.” 

You felt Crocodile’s hook hug your body as he dragged you toward him once again, his other hand making itself comfortable on your waist. “I can provide you way more than just books.” His tone lowered causing you to suck in your breath. 

“I know that.”

“Then why don’t I show you how much more I can provide you…perhaps in the master bedroom, my love?”

You placed a hand on his chest, the scent of his cigar blinding your senses. “I would love that actually.” 

“Then allow me.” He lifted you into his arms, making his way down the hall. You laughed excitedly and as you passed another hallway, your eyes met with Robin’s and all she gave was a wink before she left you two to your fun. 

You had to thank her later. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Trafalgar Law

He felt absolutely nothing whenever it was his crew hanging around you, but when his crew met up with the Strawhats and Kid pirates. He didn’t know what to feel when you got involved in a conversation between Zoro and the massacre soldier. Two relatively attractive men. 

Did he feel a little insecure, yes. But he wouldn’t admit that. Never in his life would he. 

It wasn’t till you two were alone in the tang, getting ready for bed did Law decide to speak up. 

“So, you seem very fond of the other crews.” 

“Oh,” You perked up at your boyfriend’s voice. “Yeah, they seem really cool.”

Law nodded at your statement. “I could see how some could be cool. Is there any that peak your interest?”

You pondered for a bit. “Um yeah, why the sudden questions Law?” 

Law shrugged. “Just curious s’all.” 

Shrugging you purse your lips in thought. “Well, I find the swordsman and massacre soldier really cool. Especially since they fought recently.”

“Yeah I saw you three talking.” Law says. 

“Yep, I was asking them about fighting tips, y’know useful things for further battles.” 

Law hummed. “I see.”

You tilted your head, eyes analyzing your lover. “Were you by any chance…jealous?” 

“Never.” Law was quick as he sat himself on his side of the bed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

You laughed. 

“Why are you laughing, there’s nothing funny.” Law said defensively.

“Oh I knowww it’s just, you can be so cute sometimes.”

Law gave a look of embarrassment, eyes flickering between you and the wall. “C-cute??” I’m not cute.”

“Okay okay,” You scooted beside him. “You’re handsome.” 

Law smiled, leaning into your touch. “As you are, Y/n-ya.” He moved in for a kiss, a kiss you happily accepted. Your hands entangled in his as he moved over your body, arms on either side of your head. 

Law pulled away from the kiss with a smirk. “You do a lot of things to me Y/n-ya.”

“Like what?”

“Make me realize I’m the luckiest man alive. I never thought I’d be able to find love till I found you.”

You pulled Law in for a chaste kiss. “If making you jealous makes you this romantic, I would’ve done it sooner.”

“Don’t dream of it.” Law pinches your cheek and settles beside you. “If I were actually jealous I’d do a lot more than just be romantic, you know that.” 

“Ohhh I know.”

[thinkinginpen]

Hey can I request a fic where reader is Bucky's ex girlfriend and Logan's new girlfriend? Thank you

Better Than Us

a/n: I really liked this idea! Wasn't exactly how to go about it but I think the result came out well. Definitely interesting idea! Hope you liked it :) pairing: ex!bucky x bf!logan x reader w/c: 3.6k warnings: romance, hinting, love, dating, ex lover interaction, mentions of cheating, mentions of killing, anger, arguing, jealousy, etc. summary: You and Logan are at a club not to far from your house. Then you run into someone unexpected.

"Ugh," You grumbled, leaning against the bathroom counter and rolling their eyes at you reflection. You didn't think you looked good but you really wanted to go. "Why did I agree to this?" You were about to head out to a club with your boyfriend, Logan, and the thought of dancing in a crowd of strangers was exactly your idea of a good time.

"Y'can always stay behind," Logan called out from the other room. "But I thought ya liked to see me in a suit."

You groaned, smoothing down the skirt of your dress. He was right, he did cut quite the figure on an occasion. You had an idea what he'd be wearing. A sharp black suit, the perfect fit. The sleeves rolled up just this side of professional and a crisp white shirt beneath. Yeah, you'd thought about it when you let him talk you into dressing up and going out tonight.

The bathroom door creaked open and Logan came to lean against the doorframe. He gave a low whistle and you gave him a small smile through the mirror as you fluffed your hair. His eyes roamed over your exposed back, the thin straps of your dress and the way the material hugged your hips.

"God damn bub, you're beautiful," Logan murmured, crossing the room in two steps and standing behind you. He met your gaze in the mirror as his hands settled on your hips and tugged you back against his chest. You could feel the warmth of him even through the layers of his dress shirt.

The movement pushed your hair out of the way, baring your neck. His fingers brushed the exposed skin and a shiver coursed down your spine. A low rumble of a laugh echoed in his chest, his breath warm against your skin and sending a wave of heat straight through you.

"And you know I ain't the only one gonna see that tonight," Logan breathed, drawing you closer as he continued to tease along your skin. "All those other men are gonna be watchin' you out on that dance floor. But guess who's gonna kill 'em if they get to close?"

You rolled your eyes and tried to tamp down on the heat that was pooling in your core. His words sent a thrill down your spine but you'd be damned if you told him that. "I didn't realize I was dating a caveman."

He huffed a laugh and buried his face in the crook of your neck. He nosed along the skin there as his hands slipped down to trace the straps on your shoulders. "Can ya blame me for not wantin' them to see ya like this? Lookin' all pretty n' dressed up."

His teeth grazed your skin and you inhaled but you refused to let him get to you so easily. "I'm pretty on any night you know," you managed, tilting your head to the side to give his more access with a smile. "This isn't anything you haven't seen before."

"That it ain't," he murmurs. His lips drag across your pulse point, nipping the sensitive skin. He pushed the soft material of your dress off your shoulders and your chest as you shivered beneath his touch. "God damn, baby. I want ya so bad right now."

"It'll have to wait Mr. Howlett," you smiled, the red from your lipstick only bringing the smile out more. "We have plans at the club, remember?"

He groaned again, pressing his forehead against your shoulder. "Don't know why I ever agreed to this damn club bullshit."

You laughed and reached up to his head, burying your fingers in that thick brown hair. "Because you like me in this damn dress."

He hummed an agreement and lifted his head. His eyes roamed over your appearance, taking in the tight blue fabric and the hint of what lay underneath. "Yeah I do," he murmured. "Lookin' like a goddess. A damn temptress."

Logan's hands were on you all the way to the club, pulling you close in the cab, and keeping his arm around your shoulders as you entered and sat down in a booth. The club was just as packed as you had expected, the press of people all around you. The lights were low and the music loud, and the air was thick with the smell of alcohol and sweat.

You could feel Logan's eyes on you as the music changed to something more upbeat. He was watching you intently, the possessive gleam in his gaze sending a thrill down your spine. "I'm gonna need a drink if I gotta have every man in here lookin' at ya," he growled, pulling you closer to him.

You laughed and pushed against his chest to no avail. "You'll live, you big baby." You leaned in and kissed his cheek, feeling the stubble brush against your lips. "I'll go up to the bar. What do you want?"

"Just a good view of your ass," he answered, giving a wolfish grin that bordered on feral. "But a whiskey on the rocks I guess."

You huffed a laugh and rolled your eyes. "You and your one track mind," you teased, standing. You paused for a moment, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his lips. "Be back in a minute."

You slipped through the throng of people and walked up to the bar. Several men along the way took the opportunity to look you up and down, taking in your appearance. You could feel their gazes lingering on the exposed skin and the tight material of your dress. Ignoring their stares, you waited until you reached the bar to lean against it.

"Hey sweetheart," the bartender greeted, a smile on his face as he paused his pouring, looking you up and a smile. "What can I get for ya?"

"Hi," you replied, giving him a small smile in return. "I'll have a White Russian and, uh, a neat whiskey."

"Comin' right up," he said with a nod, already reaching for the vodka. You watched him as he poured the drinks and your mind began to wander. You wondered if Logan was watching, wondering if you could feel his gaze on you from where he sat.

"Here ya go," the bartender called, pulling you from your thoughts. "Sweet drinks for a sweet girl." He smiled again and you took the opportunity to glance around the room again, seeing if you could pick Logan out among the sea of bodies.

You found him quickly enough, even through the packed dance floor. He was staring at you intently, eyes locked firmly on your body. It was clear the attention you were getting wasn't something he was enjoying. You had a brief flash of guilt for putting him through that, but you also knew he wasn't blameless here.

With a smile, you picked up the drinks and began the trek back to the booth. As you moved, the crowd pressed against you and you could feel more stares as you passed. You could practically hear the thoughts running through their heads and knew that no one had missed the way Logan was staring at you.

You made it back to the booth and handed off the drinks to a thankful Logan. He watched silently for a moment, continuing to glare at any man that came close to you. His eyes continued to roam over your body in that possessive way that you both loved and hated.

Suddenly, his gaze shifted, focusing on something or someone behind you.

You turned around to see what he was looking at, finding yourself face to face with Bucky. He stood there, wearing a leather jacket over a tight gray shirt and you could tell immediately from the tenseness in his shoulders how uncomfortable he was.

"Long time no see," you said, attempting a smile. You hadn't seen Bucky since the fallout of the two of you, a break up that had been one of the most painful of your life. Despite that, you couldn't help the wave of guilt that washed over you. You knew this had to be tearing him apart, seeing you with Logan.

"Barnes," Logan growled, and you knew that wasn't a greeting, it was a warning. He clearly wasn't happy about the unexpected arrival.

Bucky's eyes flicked to Logan, his mouth twisting into something between a frown and a sneer. "Wolverine," he bit out, the distaste clear in his voice. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"The feelin' is mutual," Logan replied darkly, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you against him. Bucky's gaze flicked to the action, his eyes narrowing as he took it in.

"Looks like I'm interrupting something," Bucky said, still looking between the two of you. The tension in the air was so thick you could practically hold it in your hands, the look in his eyes giving you an unpleasant feeling of déjà vu.

"Yeah, it does," Logan said, his voice low. "How about you do us all a favor and get lost." He pulled you even closer, an action that felt more like a claim than anything else.

He looked to you, "I'm just gonna steal the lady for a second."

For a moment, Logan's grip tightened and you could see a refusal on his tongue. But before he could object, you placed a hand on his chest. "I'll be right back, Logan," you assured him, hoping to calm him a bit. "Just gonna go talk to Bucky for a second."

He released you reluctantly, grumbling something you couldn't quite catch underneath his breath. You smiled and gave him what you hoped was a reassuring gesture before following Bucky away from the booth.

Bucky led you away to a secluded corner of the club, well away from the booth Logan was sitting in. You could feel his eyes burning into your back and tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling that was building in your stomach.

Bucky stopped once he was satisfied with how far you'd moved and turned to face you, his hands shoved in his pockets. For a moment, the two of you continued to stand there in silence, neither one knowing how to start this conversation.

Finally, it was Bucky who spoke, his eyes focused on you in an intense stare. "You look good," he said quietly, his gaze flickering over your form. "Really good."

"Thanks," you mumbled, feeling the flush rise in your cheeks at the compliment. It was a strange experience, to have your ex-boyfriend standing in front of you after so long. Seeing him again had stirred up the mix of emotions you'd been trying so hard to bury.

Silence fell between the two of you again, and Bucky shifted uncomfortably for a moment. "So you and Logan, huh?" he finally said, raising a brow in what you guessed was supposed to be a casual manner.

You winced at his words, knowing immediately what he was getting at. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head, but you weren't sure how to answer. "Yeah," you finally said, opting for honesty. "We've been dating for a few months now."

Bucky's jaw clenched at your answer, his hands balling into fists, but he said nothing. It was clear that the news hadn't gone over well with him, not that you had expected it to. Even when you had been dating, it wasn't a secret that he greatly disliked Logan.

"I still love y-"

"Don't," you interrupted, feeling a sharp pang of guilt mixed in with the anger and discomfort. "Don't say that. You lost that right a long time ago, back when you destroyed our relationship."

"You would get hurt involved with someone as fucked up as me! I was an assassin!"

"And I was fine with that!" you shot back, frustration building in your voice. "I didn't care what you'd done, I cared about you. And you were the one who broke up with me, remember? That choice was on you, and you alone. And Logan has some fucked up things too."

Bucky was quiet for a moment, seeming to process your words. The look in his eyes only darkened at the mention of Logan, his frown growing even deeper. "Yeah, and I don't doubt he's done some shitty stuff to you too. You just don't see it. You can't see it."

"And what exactly do you think he's done, Bucky?" you snapped, feeling the anger welling up inside of you. "Do you think he's hit me? Cheated on me? What am I not seeing, exactly?"

He paused, taken aback by the venom in your voice. His eyes flicked over you, studying your face and he took a step towards you, his body tensed. "I wouldn't put it past him," he said, his voice low. "He's not a good person, in case you've forgotten."

"You're not a saint either Bucky. And he knows he isn't perfect. But he didn't cower away and leave me!"

"I didn't leave you because I wanted to," Bucky snapped, his own anger flaring to match yours. He took another few steps until he was only inches from you, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly. "God damn it, I left because I couldn't stand what I was putting you through!"

You flinched at his touch but you didn't move back. The intense heat of his gaze was fixed on you as he continued to speak. "Every time you asked me to stay the night I wanted to. Every time you tried to get close, I wanted to hold you. But every time I looked at you, all I could see was how I was ruining you."

Your conversation with Bucky was suddenly disturbed as Logan stormed over towards you. His strides were long and purposeful, eyes locked in on the pair of you.

"The hell is goin' on over here?" he snarled, eyeing Bucky's hands on your shoulders.

Bucky's fingers tensed on your shoulders and he shot a glare at Logan, refusing to pull away. "Just having a conversation, Wolverine," he said, his tone dripping with thinly veiled contempt. "Something wrong with that?"

"Yeah, there's somethin' wrong with it when you're hands are all over my girlfriend," Logan growled, positioning himself between you and Bucky. He was practically bristling with anger, a low rumble building in his chest.

Bucky's eyes narrowed further and his hands flexed against you. Your skin burned under his touch, an uncomfortable reminder of the relationship the three of you shared.

"I was just talking to her," Bucky snapped, glaring at Logan over your head. "She doesn't belong to you, you know."

Logan let out a bark of a laugh, the sound harsh and cold. "Yeah, she does belong to me. She's my girl." His eyes flicked down to where Bucky's hands still gripping you, his face twisting into a sneer. "So keep your damn hands off her until you learn how to treat a lady."

Bucky's grip tightened almost to the point of pain as he bristled under the implication from Logan. The two men were standing mere inches apart, locked in a heated stare. You could practically feel the tension radiating off both of them.

"And you think you can do better?" he bit back, the muscles in his jaw tensing. "I don't see you exactly being the best boyfriend material either. She deserves better than both of us."

A vicious anger flared in Logan's eyes, his hands balling into fists. "At least I'm tryin' my best here," he growled. "Maybe you could try caring about somethin' besides yourself for once."

"Oh like you do, huh?" Bucky retorted, finally releasing one of your shoulders to jab a finger at Logan's chest. "Mr. I'm So Damn Broody and Lonely, can't let anyone get close because you're scared they'll leave? You don't know the first thing about caring."

"And you're some expert on the subject?" Logan shot back, his voice dripping with venom. "You're the one who left her, remember? I was here to pick up the pieces you left behind."

Bucky flinched at Logan's words, the barb clearly hitting home. But he quickly schooled his expression, a sneer forming on his face again. "At least I'm not a violent drunk," he hissed. "I bet she loves dealin' with that."

Logan's eyes flashed, the anger building in him reaching a new level. "You know what, you got one hell of a nerve takin' the high road, you and your killin' past," he snarled. "You wanna talk about bein' bad for her? You're one to talk. At least I'm not the one who broke her heart."

The muscles in Bucky's jaw ticked as he clenched his teeth. His eyes bored into Logan's, a mixture of anger and guilt swimming in them. He was quiet for a moment, struggling to find the words he wanted.

"You have no idea what went on between us," he finally said, his voice thick with emotion. "What we had, what she means to me. You don't have the slightest clue, and you never will."

Logan's lip curled into a sneer, looking between you and Bucky. "And you think I care? You think I give two shits about what you and her had? All that matters now is the fact that she's mine now, and you're her deadbeat ex."

With a growl, Logan reached down and grabbed your arm, practically pulling you away from Bucky. The sudden movement forced you to stumble after him as he began to lead you out of the club.

You struggled to keep up with his quick pace, your legs still unsteady from the drinks you'd had. The music and chatter from the club abruptly faded as you and Logan pushed through the doors and stepped out onto the street.

Logan didn't slow his pace until you were a good distance from the club. He didn't speak until he finally stopped, releasing your arm and turning to face you. The anger was still present in his expression, his body tension tight.

Logan's expression softened as he looked down at you, and he let out a heavy sigh. "Goddammit," he muttered, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. "I don't know why I let him get to me like that."

He paused for a moment, looking into your eyes. "You alright, bub?"

You nodded in response, still feeling shaken from the encounter with Bucky. Logan's hand came up to touch your cheek, his fingers gentle against your skin.

"Forget about that idiot," he said, a hint of a growl still in his voice. "I swear, that man brings out the worst in me."

He paused, his eyes still fixed on your face. "Hey, look at me," he said, tilting your chin up. "You know I love you, right? More than that damn Barnes ever did."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips despite yourself. "Yeah, I know," you said, reaching up to place a hand on his chest. "You're a damn pain in the ass, but I love you too, Logan."

He let out a low rumble of a chuckle, the sound more possessive than amused. "Good," he said, the hand on your cheek moving to caress the back of your neck. "And I was serious, darlin'. You're mine, not his. I don't want him anywhere near you."

You could almost feel the protectiveness rolling off of him in waves, the primal need to have and claim you. It bordered on being sweet, but there was an edge to it that reminded you of the same look you'd seen in Bucky's eyes earlier.

"Don't worry," you assured him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. "I have no interest in going back to Bucky. He made his choice a long time ago. I'm with you, Logan."

His expression darkened at the mention of Bucky's name again, his hand tightening on your neck ever so slightly. But he said nothing, instead leaning down to press his lips against yours in a tender kiss.

The kiss was gentle at first, his lips moving against yours in a slow, languid rhythm. But as the seconds ticked by, the kiss became more urgent, Logan's tongue slipping between your lips and delving into your mouth.

His free hand slid around to your waist, pulling your body flush against his. You could feel the heat of his body through the thin fabric of your dress, the muscles of his chest taut under your fingers.

He broke the kiss with a ragged sigh, his forehead resting against yours. His hands still held you close, as if he were afraid to let go. "Damn it, doll," he muttered, his voice low and rough. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"

You couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips again, feeling the tension in your body start to relax. "I know," you replied, running a hand up his chest. "It's a mutual affliction, I think."

[03jyh23]

🚆⌇bandit(?)!┆jung wooyoung

badboy(?) wooyoung x fem!reader

│synopsis: the one where you miss your train and meet a charming... bandit?

│genre: romance

│trigger warnings: none?

│words: 4.5 k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there, my lovely people! honestly, i have no idea what this is 😭. i got inspired by a song from one of the rappers in my country and just went with it. and now i'm just wondering if i should do something more with this story or just leave it be?

love, mon ♡

A cold evening breeze tousled your hair, plastering strands to your face. A heavy bag hung from your shoulder, filled with items that couldn't fit into the large suitcase standing beside you, your hand gripping its handle tightly. The thing was, you didn't make it to your transfer train. Despite your friends' warnings, you insisted you could grab a much-needed iced coffee in the 10 minutes before your train left. You were wrong.

The platform was dark, with only two solitary lamps casting a dim light. You cursed yourself under your breath, but there wasn't much you could do now. You'd already waited for an hour; you could've managed another before the next train arrived. You glanced at your phone, sighing heavily—it was running out of battery. It was frustrating. You'd have to wait two hours just to take a train for a little over forty minutes to reach your hometown. But you were the only one to blame. Well, at least you had your coffee and a blueberry muffin. But it wasn’t worth it, not at all. You shivered, pulling your jacket tighter around you. You glanced at the large clock hanging from the information board, hoping the minutes would pass more quickly. Of course, they didn't.

After an frustratingly long time you finally heard the train approaching, its rumble growing louder as it neared the station. You felt a mix of relief and anticipation wash over you. Finally, you'd be on your way. As the train's headlights pierced through the darkness, illuminating the platform, you gathered your belongings and prepared to board, eager to put this frustrating delay behind you.

The car you boarded was empty, so you sat down at the very end, near the window. You placed your luggage in the designated area and quickly plugged in your phone to charge as much as possible for the remaining journey.

As the train pulled into the next station, the platform gradually came into view, bathed in the harsh glow of fluorescent lights that cast long shadows across the concrete. The stark illumination revealed an almost deserted space, save for a group of eight young men clustered near the far end. Their presence immediately caught your attention, starkly contrasting the emptiness surrounding them. Each member of the group was clad entirely in black, their dark attire blending into the night behind them. As your eyes adjusted to the scene, you noticed intricate tattoos adorning their bodies and faces - some subtle, others bold and striking. Three of them were casually smoking cigarettes, the wisps of smoke curling upwards into the night air. As you observed them, one of the smokers suddenly locked eyes with you. His gaze was intense and unwavering, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Without breaking eye contact, he deliberately tossed his half-finished cigarette into a nearby bin. The action, while seemingly casual, felt loaded with meaning. Your heart plummeted, a mix of anxiety and unease settling in your stomach. The weight of his stare was palpable, even from this distance. Instinctively, you turned your head away, breaking the uncomfortable connection. Your mind raced with possibilities, none of them comforting. As the train doors hissed open, you found yourself fervently hoping that none of the group would decide to board. The thought of sharing this confined space with them filled you with a sense of apprehension that you couldn't quite shake off.

"Wooyoung-ah, just get there and get it done with, yeah?" the unexpected gentleness in the voice you’ve just heard had caught you off guard. You grabbed your phone to busy yourself with, fingers trembling slightly as you unlocked it, trying to appear nonchalant.

As you glanced up from your phone, you saw one of the young men from the group stepping onto the train. His movements were fluid and graceful, belying his intimidating appearance. The tattoos on his face seemed to dance in the flickering light of the train car. "I'll be fine, Joong. See y'all next week, yeah?" the boy called out, waving to his companions just before the train doors closed with a loud beep. Your heart rate quickened as you realized he must be Wooyoung, the one addressed earlier. His hair was black, neck-length, with a fringe styled neatly—only a few strands falling onto his forehead. You noticed a bandage right above his eyebrow, the skin around it purple with bruises. He wasn't tall, but the chunky boots and large leather jacket made him appear more imposing. The tattoos adorning his face seemed to shift and dance in the dim light of the train, adding an air of mystery to his already intimidating presence. His dark eyes scanned the train car, eventually settling on you. For a moment, your gazes locked, and you felt a mix of fear and inexplicable curiosity wash over you.

Wooyoung chose a seat a few rows ahead of you, close enough that you could observe him without being too obvious. As he settled in, you couldn't help but notice the way his shoulders relaxed slightly, as if he was shedding some of the intensity he had displayed on the platform. The train lurched forward, and you found yourself stealing glances at him, trying to reconcile the intimidating figure you'd seen on the platform with the young man now sitting quietly a few rows ahead. His presence seemed to fill the car, even in silence. Your eyes were drawn to the intricate tattoos adorning his face. The one beneath his left eye caught your attention - at first glance, it looked like the number 26, but as you studied it more closely, you realized it might be something else entirely. Your gaze drifted to his temple, where a small, delicate butterfly tattoo rested, a surprising contrast to his otherwise intimidating appearance. You tried to read the lettering above his eyebrow when he caught your eyes again. You raised your eyebrows and looked away, feeling a shudder run through your body. The intensity of his gaze was unsettling, a mix of curiosity and something you couldn't quite place. Your heart raced as you pretended to be engrossed in your phone, all too aware of his presence just a few rows ahead.

The train's rhythmic movement did little to calm your nerves as you found yourself stealing quick glances at Wooyoung again, hoping he wouldn't notice. The tattoo above his eyebrow remained a mystery, its meaning just out of reach.

Suddenly, his voice broke the silence, startling you out of your thoughts. "You know, it's not polite to stare," he said, his tone filled with amusement. His eyes met yours again, this time with a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

You felt your face flush with embarrassment, caught red-handed in your observation. "I... I'm sorry," you stammered, unsure of how to respond to his unexpected address.

Wooyoung shifted in his seat, turning to face you more directly. "Curious about the ink?" he asked, gesturing to the tattoos on his face. "Most people are. They either can't look away or can't bear to look at all." His words carried a weight that suggested he was used to both reactions. You felt your words frozen in your throat, unable to form a coherent response. The intensity of Wooyoung's gaze and the unexpected interaction left you speechless. You simply averted your eyes, focusing intently on your hands clasped tightly in your lap. You heard him chuckling softly, a sound that was both melodious and slightly unnerving. "Not much of a talker, huh?" he mused, his eyes still fixed on you. You dared to look up again, the warmth in his expression caught you off guard, softening his intimidating appearance. It was a stark contrast to the intense gaze you had encountered earlier. For a moment, you found yourself relaxing slightly, the tension in your shoulders easing just a fraction. "Are you afraid of me?" Wooyoung asked, sensing your hesitation. His voice was softer than you expected. The question hung in the air between you, heavy with implications.

You hesitated, weighing your words carefully. The initial fear you felt was still there, but it had been tempered by curiosity and the unexpected warmth in his smile. "I... I'm not sure," you admitted honestly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wooyoung leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "That's fair," he said, his voice sultry. "But I promise, I'm much more... fun than I look." He winked, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Want to find out just how deceiving appearances can be?" His gaze locked with yours, intense and inviting, daring you to look beyond his intimidating exterior.

You blinked continuously, taken aback by his bold proposition. "E-excuse me?" you managed to stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. The sudden shift in the conversation left you flustered, unsure of how to respond to unexpected flirtation.

Wooyoung rose from his seat, his movements fluid and deliberate. As he approached, you found yourself captivated by his presence. He stood before you, and for the first time, you truly noticed the intricate details of his face. His nose and lip piercings glinted in the dim light of the train car, adding to his allure. You were struck by how handsome he was up close, his features a perfect blend of sharp angles and soft curves. Looking up at him, you felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

Wooyoung's eyes met yours, a hint of amusement dancing in their depths. "May I?" he asked, his voice low and smooth as he gestured towards the seat next to you. The question hung in the air, loaded with possibilities. Your heart raced as you considered your options. The intensity of Wooyoung's gaze made you feel both thrilled and uneasy. After a moment's hesitation, you nodded slightly, your curiosity overcoming your apprehension. As he settled into the seat beside you, his presence both intimidating and oddly comforting, you couldn't help but wonder what you were getting yourself into.

"My name's Wooyoung," he says, his eyes roaming your features. "And I'd hate to scare off such a beautiful girl, so answer me... are you really afraid of me? Or is it just my killer looks that's got your tongue?" You felt a rush of heat creep up your neck as Wooyoung's words washed over you. His proximity was intoxicating, the scent of leather and something distinctly masculine filling your senses. You struggled to find your voice, caught between the intimidating aura he exuded and the undeniable attraction you felt.

"I... I'm not afraid," you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Just... surprised." You met his gaze, finding yourself drawn into the depth of his dark eyes.

Wooyoung's pierced lips curved into a smirk, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Surprised? By what? My charming personality or my devilishly good looks?" He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone that sent shivers down your spine.

You couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh, some of the tension dissipating. "Maybe a bit of both," you admitted, surprising yourself with your boldness.

His smirk widened into a genuine smile, transforming his face. "I like your honesty," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "So, beautiful, since we've established you're not afraid of me, how about we make this train ride a little more... interesting?" You crossed your arms and leaned back against the window, trying to put some distance between yourself and Wooyoung. His sudden closeness and bold proposition had caught you off guard, and you needed a moment to gather your thoughts.

"Are you going to shout 'A bandit! Help!' and run away now?" he joked, but you couldn't quite shake off the feeling he'd been in this situation before. Despite his joking tone, there was an undercurrent of familiarity in his words. Gathering your courage, you decided to address the elephant in the room.

"Do people usually call you a bandit?" you asked, your voice a mix of curiosity and caution.

Wooyoung's expression shifted slightly, a flicker of something—perhaps surprise or appreciation—crossing his features. He leaned back, creating a bit more space between you, and let out a soft chuckle. "Ah, straight to the point, aren't you?" he said, his tone a blend of amusement and something more serious. "Let's just say I've heard it enough times to make jokes about it. But appearances can be deceiving, you know?" His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw a vulnerability there that contradicted his tough exterior. "What do you think? Am I living up to the 'thug' stereotype?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of challenge.

Finally, you took a deep breath and met his eyes directly. The intensity of his gaze made you feel both nervous and intrigued. "Honestly?" you asked with hesitation, weighing your next words carefully.

"No, please lie to me!" Wooyoung joked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of chewing gum. With a swift motion, he popped one into his mouth, the minty scent wafting between you. You couldn't help but smile at his playful response, feeling some of the tension dissipate. The casual act of chewing gum somehow made him seem more approachable, and less intimidating than before.

Taking another deep breath, you decided to answer honestly. "At first glance, maybe. The tattoos, the piercings, the whole vibe... it's intimidating," you admitted, watching his reaction carefully. "But talking to you now? You seem more... complex than that. There's more to you than meets the eye, isn't there?" You surprised yourself with your boldness, but something about Wooyoung made you want to dig deeper, to understand the person behind the intimidating facade.

Wooyoung smirked, raising one of his eyebrows as he popped a bubble with the gum. "Are you a psychiatrist in the making?" he teased. You wanted to brush off his little comment, but he didn't give you time to answer. "'I'm no bandit, first I've heard of it,'" he said, putting his hands up as if he were surrendering. "You'd be shocked at how many times I've had to say that." His words carried a hint of frustration beneath the playful tone, and you found yourself wondering about the experiences that led him to make such a statement. Wooyoung leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "the ladies think I kill, but at home, I walk in pink slippers." He paused, letting the image sink in before continuing, "And all the grannies yell when I step out on the street." His gaze locked with yours, a mix of amusement and challenge in his expression. You couldn't help but laugh at the contrast he painted. The image of this intimidating figure in pink slippers was both absurd and oddly endearing.

"What else do you do at home?" you tease, finally relaxing into your seat, smiling warmly at the boy.

"Isn't that a very personal question?" he replies, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You raised an eyebrow, mirroring his playful expression. "Well, you did invite me to make this train ride more interesting," you countered, your confidence growing with each exchange. "Besides, I'm curious about the man behind the tattoos and pink slippers." Your eyes met his, a silent challenge in your gaze, daring him to reveal more about himself.

"As for the tattoos, I just fucking like them, that's all," Wooyoung said with a shrug. His nonchalant attitude towards his tattoos made you wonder about the stories behind each one.

You found yourself drawn to the intricate designs adorning his skin, each one likely holding a unique significance. "Do any of them have special meanings?" you asked, your curiosity piqued. Wooyoung's eyes lit up at your question, a mix of surprise and appreciation crossing his features.

"I'll save the answer to that for a second date," Wooyoung said with a wink. He nonchalantly popped another gum balloon before spitting it into the small trash bin.

You laughed softly, feeling a mix of intrigue and amusement at his flirtatious response. "A second date? Aren't we getting a bit ahead of ourselves?" you teased back, your eyes meeting his with a playful challenge. The easy banter between you two was unexpected, but not unwelcome.

Wooyoung leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, sultry tone. "Well, I consider this our first date, ever since you agreed for me to sit here," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. The boldness of his statement caught you off guard, sending a flutter through your stomach.

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, but you couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. "Oh really?" you replied, trying to match his confidence. "And here I thought first dates usually involved dinner or a movie, not a chance encounter on a train."

Wooyoung's grin widened, "Who says we can't be unconventional?" he countered, his gaze never leaving yours. "But if you want all of that," he continued, his voice taking on a playful, almost challenging tone, "then it's my pleasure to take you on such a... boring date without anything extraordinary to it." His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in slightly closer. "Though I have to warn you, even my idea of 'ordinary' might surprise you."

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. "Who says I'd even agree to go out with you in the first place?" you challenged, your tone playful but with a hint of seriousness. "You're making quite a few assumptions there, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung's eyes widened slightly, clearly not expecting your response. He leaned back, a mix of surprise and admiration crossing his features. After a moment, he let out a low chuckle. "Touché," he said, his voice tinged with respect. "I guess I got a bit ahead of myself there. My apologies." He paused, his gaze softening. "But can you blame a guy for trying? You're not exactly easy to resist."

You felt a flutter in your stomach at his words, but you maintained your composure. "Flattery will get you nowhere," you said, though you couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips. "But I appreciate the apology. Maybe we should start with getting to know each other a bit better before planning any dates, hmm?"

Wooyoung's eyes lit up with amusement at your suggestion. "Why waste time if we can get to know each other on the date?" he countered, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "After all, isn't that what dates are for?"

You couldn't help but laugh at his persistence. "You don't even know my name," you pointed out, shaking your head in amusement at his bold flirtation.

Wooyoung's grin widened, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone. "I don't need that to know you're the most beautiful woman I've seen," he said, his gaze never leaving yours. You felt a rush of heat creep up your neck at his words, caught between flattery and disbelief at his audacity. Despite yourself, you couldn't help but be charmed by his confidence and smooth talking.

You decided to play along with his flirtatious banter, feeling a mix of amusement and excitement. With a coy smile, you leaned in slightly and said, "I hope my beauty isn't too distracting. We wouldn't want you to miss your stop, would we?"

Wooyoung's eyes widened for a moment, clearly taken aback by your sudden boldness. Then, a slow, appreciative grin spread across his face. "Oh, darling," he drawled, his voice low and rich, "I'd gladly miss a hundred stops if it meant spending more time with you."

You couldn't help but giggle, turning your face away in embarrassment, not able to continue with the banter. You felt a warmth spreading through your chest, a mix of embarrassment and excitement at the intensity of Wooyoung's flirtation. As you turned back to face him, you caught a glimpse of something softer in his eyes, a vulnerability that seemed at odds with his bold exterior. For a moment, you allowed yourself to be caught in his gaze, feeling a strange mix of excitement and uncertainty. As the silence stretched between you, you noticed how Wooyoung started playing with his lip ring, his fingers absently toying with the small metal hoop. His eyes, which had been locked with yours, briefly dropped to your lips before meeting your gaze again. The gesture was subtle, but unmistakable, sending a small thrill through you. You found yourself wondering how that lip ring would feel against your own lips, the thought was both thrilling and intimidating. It sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards Wooyoung, his bold confidence and mysterious aura drawing you in. Your eyes flickered to his lips, lingering on the silver ring that adorned them. You found yourself wondering what it would be like to kiss him, to feel the cool metal against your skin. Catching yourself, you quickly averted your gaze, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. But the image remained, tantalizing and forbidden, at the edges of your mind. You tried to push the thought away, but it persisted, a silent acknowledgment of your growing desire.

Wooyoung's whispered words sent a shiver down your spine. "If there's something you want to do, you should act upon it," he murmured, leaning in closer. His head tilted slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. The intensity of his gaze made your breath catch in your throat. You felt a magnetic pull towards him, your heart racing as the space between you diminished. The air seemed to crackle with tension, and you found yourself drawn to his lips, that tantalizing lip ring catching the dim light of the train. Time seemed to slow as you hovered on the precipice of decision. Should you give in to the desire that had been building since this chance encounter began? Or was this moving too fast, too soon?

Wooyoung smiled lightly, his face so close you could feel his breath on your skin. The proximity made the lump in your throat grow, your heart racing with anticipation. His voice dropped to a low, intimate whisper as he asked, "Is it alright for me to touch you?" The question hung in the air between you, charged with tension and unspoken desire. You found yourself at a crossroads, torn between the thrill of the moment and the rational part of your mind reminding you that you'd just met. Your body seemed to lean towards him of its own accord, drawn by an inexplicable magnetism. You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. But it wasn't enough for Wooyoung. His eyes, dark and intense, bore into yours as he whispered, "I need to hear you actually say it." His voice was low, almost husky, sending a shiver down your spine. The anticipation hung thick in the air between you, every second stretching out like an eternity.

You swallowed hard, finding your voice. "Yes," you breathed, barely audible even in the quiet of the train car. "You can touch me." The words left your lips, a mix of nervousness and excitement coloring your tone. Wooyoung's eyes lit up, a slow smile spreading across his face as he leaned in even closer. Wooyoung's hand moved to your jaw, his touch gentle yet electrifying. His fingers caressed your cheek, the warmth of his skin sending shivers down your spine. Slowly, deliberately, he ran his thumb over your lower lip, the sensation causing you to tremble involuntarily. Your breath hitched, caught between anticipation and nervousness as you felt the intensity of his touch and gaze.

You closed your eyes, leaning in to close the distance between you. Your heart raced as you whispered, "You can kiss me now." The words hung in the air, charged with anticipation. You waited, breath held, for him to make his move. Wooyoung's breath hitched audibly, a soft exhale that you felt against your skin. There was a moment of stillness, the world seeming to pause around you. Then, with agonizing slowness, you felt him lean in. His lips brushed against yours, feather-light at first, testing. The cool metal of his lip ring sent a jolt through you, contrasting with the warmth of his mouth.

As if emboldened by your response, Wooyoung deepened the kiss. His hand cupped your face more firmly, fingers tangling in your hair. The kiss was a perfect blend of gentle and passionate, leaving you breathless. You could taste the hint of his earlier gum, with a hint of cigarettes. Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the moment, all thoughts of the train and your surroundings fading away.

Suddenly, a jolt from the train brought you both back to reality. You pulled away slightly, your cheeks flushed and your breath coming in short gasps. Wooyoung's eyes were dark with desire as he gazed at you, a small smile playing on his lips. The moment hung between you, charged with the thrill of newfound connection.

You looked out the window, suddenly realizing with a jolt that you recognized the station passing by. "It's my stop!" you shouted, jumping to your feet in a panic. You quickly unplugged your phone, then grabbed your suitcase and bag, heart racing as you rushed towards the doors.

Wooyoung's eyes widened in surprise, caught off guard by your sudden movement. "Wait—" he started to say, but you were already halfway down the aisle.

As you reached the doors, you turned back briefly, catching a glimpse of Wooyoung's bewildered expression. A mix of regret and excitement coursed through you as the train began to slow. The doors opened with a hiss, and you stepped out onto the platform, your mind reeling from the whirlwind encounter you'd just experienced. You stood there, catching your breath as the train doors closed behind you. Your heart was still racing, not just from the rush to exit, but from the intense encounter you'd just experienced. As you watched the train pull away, you couldn't help but wonder if you'd ever see Wooyoung again, or if this magical moment would remain just that—a fleeting connection in the night.

♡│if you enjoy my writing please consider supporting me by tagging and reblogging│

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

I'm not one to police how "dark" people should make their fan content, or to act like there's something morally wrong with making a character go through hardship or with having a kink, but man, there sure is a noticeable pattern in how zutarians imagine Katara.

Every attempt to "empower" her always comes with some for of humiliation, violence, trauma or loss of identity.

No one is allowed to love her and treat her well. Not her dad, not her brother, not her friends, not her canon love interest. She needs to be just babysitter/cinderella to them. She needs to be made to feel lonely, isolated, disregarded and unloved until Zuko shows up to the rescue.

Gone is her strong connection to her tribe, that made her want to honor it even when she was traveling the world like she dreamed of. Instead she'll long to be part of the nation that almost erased her culture, commited genocide against her people and killed her mother. Gone is her right to be mad at them for it, even though she canonically always stops herself from letting that anger cross the line into blind hatred.

Instead SHE is the one who needs to learn a lesson on "not judging people just because they're different", and making them learn basic empathy towards someone they see as "other" is no longer on them, or on the guy that literally stepped up for that role of his own free will. Nope, that burden should be on Katara's shoulders instead. It's her job to convince the racists that she is, in fact, a human being and deserves to be treated like one.

And she should always be wearing red instead of the colors of her tribe, her children should grow up in the Fire Nation palace, preparing to inherit that throne (aka their father's legacy), and any waterbender she gives birth to will absolutely be taught bloodbending as that is supposedly Katara's legacy - even though she never wanted to learn it and refuses to use it 9 times out of 10 because she finds it immoral AND it is a source of trauma for her, as it was used by a predatory adult to violate her body.

She should not be "Just the Avatar's girl" and "Aang's reward" (even though she was always her own damn self before anything and their romance was a "reward" to both of them), but instead should be just the Fire Lady - after all, in their eyes, Zuko "deserves her more" and that's somehow Not The Same.

Gone is her right to remain a kind, compassionate soul. Instead she needs to let anger consume her and push her to do things she finds morally wrong, like murder or bloodbending, because she needs to hate pacifism so she can hate Aang by proxy.

In fact, Aang should be made to be the REAL source of oppression and violence in her life (combined with her tribe and family of course).

Compassion should no longer be something they both believe in, it should be an idea Aang tries to force into her head. The scars on her hands after he accidentally burns her should be permanent, not healed by Katara herself, to make her more of a victim (with "parallels" to Zuko) and Aang more of a bastard. Aang not wanting to let go of her should be a result of obsession and entitlement, not a combination of his own trauma, the natural desire to be with those he cares about, and the very explicit fact that Katara did not want to be let go of (see her reaction to him leaving in The Awakening).

And more importantly, Aang horribly failing to read the room and kissing her when she didn't want to be kissed, and immediately chastising himself for it because he meant no harm, should be turned into him full on forcing himself on her, preferably more than once. The more traumatizing the better, so Zuko looks like even more of a hero when he saves her.

But that is not say that he needs to be a perfect gentleman when rescuing her, oh no. It's totally fine if what "frees" Katara from the "burdens" that are her family, friends and culture is being taken to the Fire Nation against her will, especially if she's not just a regular prisoner, but instead made to forcibly marry Zuko - or be his sex slave. It's totally fine is this "rescue" involves her being beaten into submission and assaulted until she learns to like it. It's for her own good. It's "feminist" when Zuko does it to her. It's only abuse when Aang does it.

And obviously any anger she has ever felt towards Zuko, even when he sent an assassin after her group, is really just her being "mad at herself" because, secretly, she TOTALLY wants him to do exactly that.

Truly the perfect way to "empower" a character. Mutilate them until they fit in the box you designed for them - and then call people "fake fans" who just "don't understand or care about the character" when they say they liked the original version way more.

Zutarians really shot themselves in the foot with that "holier than thou" attitude. It's IMPOSSIBLE to take their version of "respecting Katara's character" seriously.

[meanbossart]

tempted to draw du drow with my big drow tav (romanced lae'zel), but i know that du drow doesnt like other drow and also doesnt like lae'zel.

SO instead i want to draw du drow with my big dragonborn tav (who romanced astarion) with two different astarions, the one that du romanced and the one that my tav romanced...

but i dont know what du thinks of dragonborns, would you care to enlighten me so that i can make things accurate?

i have a commission to catch up on, so i wont be doing personal art like this idea for awhile yet, but id like to know for when i can. :)

I don't think DU drow knows anything about dragonborn, similarly to how all he knows about githyanki is that they're a very militarized race, and both the knowledge as well as the curiosity ends there.

He's very susceptible to societal bias - and as far as I know dragonborn kinda... Get away with relatively low scrutiny? They seem to be more victim of irritating curiosity than straight up prejudice. I guess DU drow would be the same way and harbor a lot of questions that would slink out once he's had enough to drink ("Can you make love to a woman without ravaging her insides", among other bangers)

(And before anyone asks, no - he wouldn't want to find out firsthand. Don't get me wrong, he thinks Dragonborn are beautiful creatures, emphasis on creature.)

But honestly, forget all that because life is short and these people are fake. Draw whatever makes you happy and stretch "canon" as much as you wish to make it work. I adore every since piece of art I see of DU drow (and especially of him interacting with people's characters) and I assure you accuracy is the last thing on my mind. Just have fun with it!!!!

[teamdilf]

Elgar'nan

I don't actually think they'd do this, but I've been pondering the idea of Elgar'nan kidnapping the inquisitor. It gives him a hostage, potentially keeping the south from getting into his business, on account of the southern chantry not wanting anything to happen to the Herald of Andraste.

I also imagine him being charming and persuasive - on the surface he's kind to the inquisitor, treating them as a guest instead of a prisoner. What he truly wants is to figure out the precise nature of the inquisitor's relationship with Solas, and potentially convince the inquisitor to ally with him. He paints a pretty picture of his plan - they'd be partners, ruling jointly as gods. Perhaps if the inquisitor romanced Solas, he'd promise her she could keep Solas around, "so long as you put him on a leash". He'd try to convince her that slavery is a kinder fate for Solas than any fate Elgar'nan would dole out himself, and maybe Lavellan sees sense in his words when she's emotionally at her lowest and that horrifies her.

Perhaps Rook is tasked with rescuing the inquisitor, and Solas offers his help if the inquisitor vowed to redeem him instead of kill him. Maybe, if romanced, he becomes insistent that they drop everything to rescue his love. Near-reckless in his desperation.

I just think it would be so captivating to have the inquisitor speak to another god-like figure, as someone who is viewed as such a figure in contemporary Thedas. And, I love the idea of a charming villain who thinks he's right; who will kidnap someone but also wine and dine them, and ensure they have pretty clothes to wear.

This is mostly just a thought experiment featuring Iris and maybe it's an AU fic I'll write post-Veilguard, but we know so little about Elgar'nan and it's fun to ponder his role in the game.

[lee-laurent]

My Biggest Hater - Jamie Drysdale

Summary: Jamie meets his biggest hater

content: fluff, angst, disapproving parents, kissing, mentions of sex, innuendos, mentions of break ups, engagements

wc: 9.6k

notes: enjoy!! i have serious writer's block atm, so this is the best i've got

Georgina Elwood was so in love with Jamie Drysdale that it hurt. The moment she set eyes on him through the glass of a Flyers game, she was hooked. And it was clear to anyone looking at that them that he felt exactly the same way.

But that wasn't how Georgina had ever planned her life going. She wasn't supposed to fall for an athlete, a hockey player. Her parents would never approve of that. Sports were seen as entertainment in her family and a rare entertainment at that. Sports weren't a serious career, a stable career. Yet, one night at the Well Fargos Centre changed everything for her.

~~

Georgina hadn't even planned to go to the game. It had been her best friend Olivia's idea, a spontaneous decision after a long week of studying for upcoming finals at UPenn. Olivia had convinced her with a mischevious grin and two tickets at the glass (Olivia had her parents' credit card).

"Come on, Georgie. Just one night of fun. You need a break from all the pressure. No one has to know," Olivia teased, slipping her arm through Georgie's as they walked toward the arena. The lights of Philadelphia flickered above them, the cool autumn air picking up leaves and spinning them all around. Georgie rolled her eyes, but secretly agreed with her best friend. Her parents would be horrified to know she was spending the evening watching a sport instead of spending it inside studying more than necessary.

She expected nothing more than a forgettable night--maybe a few laughs, some shit food, and minor ear damage. But as soon as they took their seats, Georgie's eyes were drawn to the player sporting 'Drysdale 9' on the back of his jersey.

She didn't really care about his name, just how skilled he was when it came to skating. He held her attention in a way she hadn't expected anyone at the game to. Every time the puck came near their seats, she found herself leaning forward to follow his every move.

"He's cute, huh?" Olivia nudged her, catching onto her staring.

"What? No," Georgie blushed, pretending to focus on the game. But she wasn't really watching the game. She was watching him. It was just him, gliding along the ice like it's what he was made to do.

And then, near the end of the second period, something unexpected happened. Jamie was checking the bench when, by pure chance, his eyes swept over the crowd behind it and landed directly on Georgina. It was just a brief moment, but their eyes locked.

Her breath caught in her throat.

He smiled. Not a flashy, "I'm-a-professional-athlete" kind of smile, but something subtle, almost shy, as if he was surprised that she had been looking at him.

"Georgie, he's totally looking at you!" Olivia squealed beside her, shaking her shoulders. Georgie tried to play it off, but the blush creeping up her face gave her away.

It felt ridiculous, but locking eyes with him felt right. Like they say in every romance novel ever--sparks.

It was after the game that things really changed. She was sitting in a bar with Olivia, sipping whatever fruity cocktail her friend had ordered for the two of them. Olivia was chattering excitedly about the game, not noticing how zoned-out Georgina was. She couldn't shake the image of Jamie's face when their eyes met.

"You're still thinking about him, aren't you?" Olivia teased.

"It's not like that."

"Uh-huh. Whatever you say. But I saw that look. He was totally into you. I bet you could've got his number if he wasn't like... on the ice."

"I doubt he even remembers I exist. Besides, I'm not going to throw myself at some guy just because he smiled at me during a game."

"Whatever. Let me tell you about that cute guy from calc..."

The night wore on, and Georgie found herself listening to best friend yap and yap about the frat boy in their calc course. That was until Olivia nearly spilled her drink in excitement, pointing towards the door.

"Georgie! Look! Fucking look!" she hissed, grabbing her arm.

Jamie had just walked in, still wearing his post-game jacket and laughing with a couple of his teammates. He looked even better without the glass between them--tall, with tousled hair and freckles.

"We have to talk to him. Come on!"

"Olivia, no!" The last thing she wanted was to embarass herself in front of the guy she'd been caught staring at. "I am not doing this."

"You don't have to. I'll do it. Just act cool."

Before Georgina could protest, Olivia was already standing, waving Jamie and his teammates over with confidence. Jamie's eyes found hers again, a glimmer of recognition lighting up his face. He nudged his friend and in a few large strides they were standing next to the two girls.

"Hey," Jamie greeted. "You were at the game, right?"

"Yep! My best friend couldn't stop watching you," Olivia teased, shooting a look at Georgie. "She's a huge friend now, right, Georgie?"

She cleared her throat, forcing a smile. "It was... a good game."

"Glad you enjoyed it. Do you, uh, do you come to a lot of games?" Jamie asked, leaning in.

"This was actually my first one," she admitted. "I, um, I'm not super into sports."

"Really?" Jamie seemed genuinely surprised. "And yet you somehow ended up right at the glass?"

"That's all Olivia. She dragged me here tonight."

"Well, I'm glad she did," his voice made her stomach fill with butterflies. Before she could respond, he offered to buy her a drink. She agreed and every time she looked up that night, Jamie's eyes were already on her.

~~

Georgie awoke to the feeling of Jamie pressing kisses to her collar bone and neck. She sleepily reached up, blindly running a hand through his hair.

"Mmm, good morning."

"Morning, Gee," Jamie's voice was low and gravelly with sleep as he nestled closer, his arm draping over her waist. "How'd you sleep?"

"Better now," she whispered, tilting her head to give him more space to press kisses.

Moments like that, waking up beside him, felt like they were living in their own little world. A world where her parents' opinions didn't matter, where their judgement couldn't reach her. But deep down she knew she couldn't hide Jamie forever.

"You look like you're in deep thought," his lips brushing against her ear, his hand tracing patterns on her hip. He could read her like a book.

"Just thinking."

She hestitated. She hadn't told him yet about her plan to bring him to her parents' summer house. She wasn't even sure if it was the right move. Her parents had never met anyone she'd dated, and she had no idea how they'd react to Jamie. But she hated keeping their love a secret.

"Thinking about my parents."

Jamie's hand stopped it's slow carress. He knew how complicated things were when it came to her family. She had shared bit and pieces of growing up in Greenwich--how she went to boarding school, how her brother was a glorified frat boy, how her parents had unrealistic expectations for her entire life.

"You're still worried about them?"

"It's just... they're not like you. They won't understand us, not the way we do. And I'm not sure how to explain that to them without it turning into a disaster."

Jamie's jaw ticked. He had a vague understanding of her parents judginess, hence why he had yet to meet them in the 7 months that they'd been together. But he also didn't want the love of his life ripped from his arms because he wasn't what her father had pictured for his little princess.

"I love you Georgie," he leaned in to capture her lips in a loving kiss.

"I love you too, Jimmy," she mumbled against his mouth.

"Now, we've still got an hour until Cam comes home. So... are we taking advantage of this empty apartment or what?"

~~

Georgie sat on the couch, nervously twirling a loose thread on the Flyers shirt she'd stolen from Jamie. Jamie was in the kitchen making her her daily coffee, his back to her, completely unaware of the conversation she was about to start.

She'd been thinking about it for weeks--how to bring it up, how to convince him it was the right time. But every scenario that played out in her head made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Hey, Jamie?"

"Yeah?" He turned, two mugs in his hands, walking over to sit with her.

"I was thinking... maybe it's time for you to meet my parents."

The words hung in the air between them. Jamie placed the two mugs down on the coffee table, his eyes darkening with uncertainty.

"Georgie, we've talked about this," he said slowly, sitting back against the couch. "You know how your parents feel about... athletes. Do you really think that's a good idea?"

"I know it's complicated, Jamie, but I don't want to keep hiding you from them. It's been seven months. They're going to find out eventually and it'll probably be worse if we wait too long."

"But why now? What's the rush? It's not like they're begging to meet me. Hell, they don't even know I exist."

"That's the point, Jamie! I don't want to keep you a secret! I love you, and I want them to see what I see."

He stood up abruptly. "And what if they don't, Georgina? What if they don't see it? Hmm? You've told me enough about them for me to know that they've made up their minds about who's 'worthy' of their daughter. I'm just a dumb hockey player to them. Nothing more."

"Don't say that," she pleaded, standing up and reaching out to him. "You're so much more than that to me. I'm not asking for their approval--I'm asking for a chance."

"A chance for what? To be judged by people who look down on me because I play a sport for a living? You know how that'll go. And I don't want to go through that."

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, her voice breaking. Jamie never raised his voice at her like that. "Jamie, please. I can't keep living in two separate worlds like this. I love you, and I want them to know you. I'm trying to do the right thing."

He sighed, his frustration being replaced by exhaustion. "I get that you're trying, Georgie. But what happens when it goes to shit? What happens when they decide they don't approve? Are you ready for that? Because I'm not sure I am."

She had never considered the possibility of losing Jamie because her parents didn't approve.

"So, what are you saying?" she whispered.

"I'm saying that I don't want to be the reason your family turns against you. I can't watch that happen."

"So, what, you'd rather just keep things easy? Stay in our little bubble and pretend the rest of the world doesn't exist?" Her voice rose, sharp with hurt... betrayal.

"That's not what I'm saying, Georgie, and you know it."

"Then what are you saying? Because right now, it sounds like you're just looking for an excuse to avoid them forever!"

"Maybe I am! Maybe I don't want to go somewhere where I know I'm not welcome. Did you ever think about that?"

The room went silent, then tension between them suffocating. Georgie felt her heart pounding in her chest, her head spinning. She turned away from him, running a hand through her hair. "I'm going home."

The clicked shut behind her, leaving Jamie standing in the living room. He sank into the couch, burying his face in his hands. He sat like that for a few minutes until his phone buzzed with a message from Cam.

Everything good? Heard some of it from my room. Wanna talk?

Not really. I don't know what to do, man. I think she's really pissed

~~

Georgie stormed into her apartment, throwing her keys on the counter. She let out a long, frustrated groan, running her hands through her hair.

Olivia looked up from the couch, a pint of ice cream in her lap. "Uh-oh. What happened?"

"He's being fucking impossible, Liv!" She made her way to the kitchen, pulling a bottle of white wine from the fridge and pouring herself an above average sized glass.

"Impossible how?" Liv asked, shoving the spoon in her mouth.

"He doesn't want to meet my parents. Like, at all. He think they'll judge him--well, actually, he knows they will. But that's not the point!" she exclaimed, hoisting herself up to sit on the kitchen island. "I get it, okay? My parents are... difficult people. But I love him, I want them to see how much love I have for him."

"Mmhmm. So, he's refusing to go? Flat-out?"

"Yeah! And he's making it sound like some horrible fucking trap I'm setting him up for. I'm not asking him to marry me for fuck's sake. I just want them to meet him. It's been seven months!"

"Okay, okay, slow down, Georgie. Come sit over here."

Georgie placed her wine on the coffee table, sitting down on the couch with a huff. Olivia handed her the ice cream without a word, and Georgie accepted it, digging in angrily.

"I just don't understand him! He just assumes the worst is going to happen. He thinks they're gonna like pull me out of school so he'll never see me again. I mean, sure, they're judgey as hell, but who's to say they won't come around when they see how happy I am?"

"I mean, Georgina, your parents aren't exactly known for being the most... open-minded people. You've told me plently horror stories about your dad giving guys that were just your friends the third degree for way less than being a professional athlete."

"I know, I know. But I thought they'd see how happy I am with him and... am I being delusional?"

"Not like totally. But def a bit. You have to like see where Jamie's coming from. He's just trying to protect himself--and probably you--from a big mess. Maybe he's scared of putting you in a position where you have to choose."

"He actually said something like that. He doesn't want to be the reason my family turns against me. But that's not fair. He's not the problem. My parents are! I can't live like this though, Liv. Pretending they don't exist, or pretending the love of my life doesn't exist? It's exhausting."

Olivia nodded slowly, taking the spoon from Georgie's hand and grabbing herself a bite. "Okay, let's break this down. You're in love with him, right?"

Georgie shot her a look. "Obviously."

"And you want him to be a part of your life, like, all of it?"

"Yes!"

"Then maybe, the like real issue is timing. Maybe Jamie needs more time to wrap his head around dealing with Joan and Michael. And maybe you need to figure out how to handle them, with or without his help. You guys need to be on the same page about what happens next, Gee."

Olivia always had a way of making things sound much more logical. "I just hate that I've made him feel like he isn't enough. I wasn't trying to, I guess it just came out wrong. He got so mad, Liv. Like more than he does on the ice. He even said he might be avoiding meeting them altogether."

"Yikes. Yeah, that's a tough one. But look, if you're both like serious about each other, you'll figure this out. Let him cool off and then talk about it again. And maybe give him some reassurance that whatever happens isn't a dealbreaker for you."

"You're right, Liv. God, you're like always right. I shouldn't have pusehd him. But like what if the longer I wait, the bigger the gap between him and my parents becomes?"

"You two are going to figure this out. Just give him some space. He'll def reach out when he's ready. That's how your Jimmy is, right?"

"I love you, Livvy."

"I love you more, Gee."

~~

Olivia grabbed her bag from her bedroom, slipping her phone into the front pocket of her jeans. Georgie watched from the couch, still holding her now-empty wine glass.

"You're leaving?" Liv was never one to cut girl talk short, especially after a rant like that one.

Olivia grinned, throwing her bag over her shoulder. "I'm giving you and Jimmy some space. You guys need to talk without me lurking around like a psycho killer. Plus..." she wiggled her eyebrows. "Let's be honest, you probably need the apartment for some make-up sex."

"Liv!"

"Hey, I'm just calling it like I see it. And you two fuck like rabbits. Have been since the first night you met."

Georgie blushed, covering her face with a throw pillow.

"But seriously, talk to him. I'm crashing at Claire's for the night, so you two better be cuddling when I return, got it?"

"Thanks, Livvy. Love you."

"Love you more!" she shouted over her shoulder as she left. "Good luck with Jimbo!"

The apartment fell silent and she sat there for a few minutes, her thumb hovering over Jamie's contact. But before she could click call, the door unlocked, and in walked Jamie. He looked so tired--his hair disheveled, his shoulders tense, but his eyes softened when he saw her on the couch.

"Spare key. Sorry for not knocking, wasn't sure you'd answer if I did," he admitted.

"Hi."

"I'm sorry, Gee. I shouldn't have raised my voice. I just--everything about this situation freaks me the fuck out. I didn't mean to hurt you or push you away."

She shook her head, walking over to him. "No, Jamie. I'm the one who should be sorry. I should never have pushed you like that. I was just too focused on my fear of losing you, and I wasn't thinking about how hard this must be for you. I know what my parents are like, and it's not fair for me to just expect you to be okay with all of it."

Jamie sighed, taking her hands in his. "I get why you want me to meet them, and I get that this is very important to you. But I wasn't ready... I wasn't sure if I could deal with whatever they throw at me. But now..." He paused. "I'm ready, Georgina. I want to do this. For you. Because I love you."

Georgie blinked, stunned. "You... you're ready?"

"Yeah, I thought about it a lot after you left. I don't want to keep pretending like your family doesn't exist. I'm not saying it's gonna be easy, but we'll figure it out. Together."

"Oh my God, Jamie!" she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. "I can't believe this! Are you serious? You're really ready?"

Jamie chuckled, hugging her tightly. "Yes, babe. I am."

She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her hands coming up to cup his face as she kissed him, pouring every ounce of her love into it. He kissed her back, his hands holding her waist like he never wanted to let go.

When they finally pulled away, Georgie rested her forehead against his, her voice soft. "Thank you. I love you so, so much, Jamie."

"I love you too, Georgie," he murmured, his lips brushing hers one last time before he smiled. "Now, how about we head to bed? We've got some cuddling to catch up on."

"You read my mind."

They walked into her bedroom, hand in hand. The weight of the argument had lifted, and for the first time in the last few hours, Georgie felt a strange sense of peace. She stripped down so she was just in Jamie's shirt, before nestling her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. They were going to face things. Together.

~~

Georgie was once again staring at her phone, but this time it wasn't Jamie's contact she was staring at, it was her mom's. She had rehearsed the conversation, but somehow, none the options seemed right. With a deep breath, she clicked dial and held the phone to her ear.

"Georgina, darling! What a lovely surprise," her mother's shrill voice filled her ear.

"Hi, Mom." Georgie tried to keep her tone light, but her nervousness was already making her voice crack. "How are you and Daddy?"

"Oh, we're fine. Just finalizing some details for your father's work gala next month. You know how he gets about these events. What about you, dear? How's school? You must be knee-deep in preparations for next school year."

"Yeah, school's good," Georgie winced, realizing she was in fact stalling. "Actually, I'm calling because... well, I'm coming up to the summer house next weekend, and I'm bringing someone with me."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line.

"Bringing someone?" Her mother's voice sharpened. "Who is this someone, Georgina? You've never mentioned anyone before."

"Yeah, well... I've been seeing someone for a while now. He's... my boyfriend."

Her mother laughed, "A boyfriend? Oh, my. And you're only just now telling us?"

Georgie bit her lip, regretting not easing her mother into the conversation. "Yeah, I know. I just... wanted to make sure things were serious before I introduced him to you and Daddy."

"That's exciting news! What's his name?"

"Jamie. His name's Jamie."

"Jamie...?" Her mother's voice trailed off, clearly waiting for more information.

"Jamie Drysdale," she replied, praying her mom wouldn't recognize the name immediately. She wouldn't. She didn't watch sports. But... what if she did?

"Hmm. Drysdale. That's not a last name I know. What does he do, dear? Is he a student as well?"

"He's not in school. He, uh, he works actually." She mentally kicked herself for how stupidly vague she sounded, but she wasn't about to drop the hockey bomb over the phone.

"Works? Doing what, exactly? Is he older? Surely you're not dating a... blue collar boy," she sounded disgusted at the idea.

"No, no. It's, uh, complicated. I'll explain everything when we're there. But he's great, Mom. Really. You and Daddy will love him." Georgie crossed her fingers, praying that she wasn't overselling it.

"Well, I hope so. I trust you've chosen wisely. Your father will be very interested to meet him."

"Yeah, I'm... sure he will."

"We're just surprised, Georgina. You've never kept secrets from us before. But if you're happy, then we're happy for you."

"Thanks, Mom. I really think you'll like him. I just wanted to give you a heads-up before we arrive. We'll take Jamie's car."

"Of course, dear. We'll be expecting you both. Saturday, yes?"

"Yes, Saturday."

"Well, I'll let your father know. He'll be very curious, I'm sure. You know how is about meeting everyone new. We're looking forward to it, Georgina. And this Jamie character--well, we'll just have to see, won't we?"

"Yeah, we'll see."

"Alright, darling. I must let you go, your father needs my help. Be sure to tell Jamie that we're looking forward to meeting him."

"I will. See you next weekend."

"Goodbye, dear. Love you."

"Love you too, Mom."

She hung up and let out a long breath. Well, that certainly went better than expected. But the real test would be the weekend--when her parents found out that their daughter's boyfriend was a professional hockey player.

~~

Jamie could feel Georgie's eyes on him from the passenger seat. She seemed laser-focused on the side of his face, her mind spinning. He had one hand on the wheel, the other on her thigh. She finally took a deep breath and blinked.

"Okay. I guess we should talk about what to expect."

Jamie raised an eyebrow. "This is about your parents, huh?"

"Yeah... there are a few things you should know before we get there."

Jamie's hand squeezed her thigh, something he often did to reassure her. "Alright, hit me, baby. What am I walking into?"

"First of all, my dad's name is Michael. He's... intense. He's the CEO of an investment firm--Elwood Capital. Very old money, very... opinionated." She paused. "He values success, status, and manners. So, just like be polite, answer his questions, and don't take anything he says too personally."

"Got it. What about your mom?"

"My mom, Joan, is well... she's a classic socialite. She's all about image and reputation. She love's entertaining, so don't be surprised if she goes all out for our visit. She'll probably ask about your background, family, that kind of thing. She's not as harsh as my dad, but she definitely has 'old-fashioned' views."

"'Old-fashioned' as in..."

"As in they'll probably ask when we're getting married and having kids."

"Seriously?" Jamie blinked in surprise.

"Oh, yeah," Georgie rolled her eyes. "In their world, that's the next step after dating for seven months. They have no concept of 'taking things slow.' Just brace yourself."

"Alright. Noted. So... Michael and Joan. Old money. Probably want grandkids ASAP." He shot her a playful look. "Anything else?"

Georgie winced slightly, knowing the next part would be the hardest for Jamie. "Yeah... one more thing. My parents don't call me 'Georgie.' They think it's a boy's name. So when we're there, you'll need to call me Georgina. I know it's weird, but... it's like one of their 'rules.'"

"I can do that. Georgina it is."

"Thanks, babe," she murmured. "It's just... they have this whole thing about appearances. You'll notice they care a shit ton about manners and stuff. It's like super formal. I've spent my whole life playing the role, and I just--" She trailed off, blinking rapidly. "I don't want you to feel like you have to be someone you're not. But I also don't want to give them a reason to be... difficult. More difficult than usual."

"Hey, I get it. I'm not going to pretend this won't be awkward, but I'll handle it. I love you, and I want to be there for you, even if your parents ask me when we're having kids after dinner." He smirked, trying to lighten the mood in the car.

"You're like seriously amazing, you know that?"

"I try," he removed his hand from her thigh, lacing their fingers together.

After a moment of silence, Georgie spoke up again. "Oh, and my brother Brooks will be there too. He's... your typical frat boy."

"Frat boy?"

"Yeah. He's studying finance at Cornell, and he's... like a lot to handle. He's not as formal as my parents are, but he's always trying to prove something. I'm sure he'll grill you about your job or try to make a competition out of nothing."

"Sounds fun," Jamie said dryly.

"Just ignore him. He can be annoying, but he's harmless," she added with a sigh. "He might make a few snide comments, but you don't have to take him seriously. I definitely don't."

"Alright. So, to recap: I'm going to meet Michael the CEO, Joan the socialite, and Brooks the frat boy. I'm going to call you Georgina, use all my manners, and probably dodge some invasive questions about marriage and kids. How am I doing so far?"

"You're doing great. I just... I hope it goes okay. They don't know you're a hockey player yet. I figured we'd save that when we're actually there. One hurdle at a time, right?"

"Yeah... figured that'd come up eventually."

"We'll handle it together, okay? No matter what."

"Yep. Together," he raised their conjoined hands to his mouth and gave them a quick kiss.

Thet were feeling a bit more at ease, but the storm was waiting for them at the summer house.

~~

The summer house was not what Jamie expected. When he thought of a 'summer house' he imagined a cabin or a cottage near the water. Instead he saw a mansion with a sprawling estate, perfectly manicured lawns and tall, pristine windows.

"Ready?" Jamie asked.

"As I'll ever be," she forced a smile. "Just remember... Georgina."

He grinned softly. "I got it. Georgina."

As they stepped out of the car, her parents were already waiting at the entrance, the imposing figure of her father standing next to her elegantly dressed mother. Brooks was lounging on a lawn chair on the porch, sipping what was definitely a whisky on the rocks, his signature smirk already plastered on his face.

"Georgina!" Her mother screeched, arms outstretched in gretting. "It's been too long, darling." She pulled Georgie into a very quick hug before shifting her attention to Jamie. "And this must be Jamie."

Jamie smiled, extending his hand. "Yes, ma'am. It's great to meet you Mrs. Elwood."

"Please, call me Joan," her mother replied smoothly, though the way she was looking at him was nothing short of calculating.

Her father stepped up next, his handshake firm, bodering on intense. "Michael Elwood. Welcome to our home, Jamie." His eyes lingered a little longer than necessary, as if he were also weighing him in his mind.

"Thank you, sir. It's a pleasure to be here," Jamie replied. His tone was just as perfect as Georgie had imagined.

As they moved inside, Georgie felt her brother's eyes on her. He hadn't said a word yet, but the smirk on his face said enough.

"What's up, Georgina," Brooks drawled lazily, making no attempt to get up from his chair. "Long time no see."

"Good to see you too, Brooks."

His eyes shifted to Jamie, his smirk growing... if that was possible. "So, this is the famous boyfriend, huh? Didn't think you'd ever bring someone home. Must be serious."

Georgie shot him a warning glance, but before she could snap back, Joan cut in.

"Brooks, don't be rude," she said, though her tone was more dismissive than it was chastising. "Georgina, darling, let's sit down for some drinks before dinner. Jamie, you must tell me about yourself. We know so little about you."

Jamie nodded, following the family into the living room. The walls were adorned with family portraits and antique furniture, each piece screaming money. Georgie sat beside Jamie on the sofa, her hand slipping into his.

Joan handed out drinks as Michael settled in a large leather armchair.

"So Jamie," Michael began, his tone measured. "Where are you from?"

"I'm from Toronto originally, but I've been in the U.S. for a while now."

"Toronto. Quite a respectable city," he leaned back in his chair, his eyes still on Jamie. "And what is it that brought you to the states?"

Jamie kept his smile, but Georgie felt his hand tighten around hers.

"Work, mostly," Jamie replied smoothly. "Lots of great opportunities here."

"And what line of work are you in?"

Before Jamie could answer, Brooks let out a loud laugh, cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. "You really think Georgina would date a guy who can't afford a place like this?" He gestured around the room. "Relax, Dad. I'm sure Jamie here is doing quite well for himself."

The comment, while rude, gave Jamie time to avoid answering directly. Georgie shot Brooks a glare, but he just smiled right back at her.

"I'm lucky to be in a good position," Jamie replied, dodging the specifics of it.

Joan smiled, "Of course, dear. You seem quite composed." She turned to Georgie. "And how did the two of you meet?"

Georgie hesitated for a split second. The last thing she wanted to say was "at a hockey game," but before she could make up a response, Jamie jumped in.

"Through mutual friends," he said easily. "It was one of those on a whim connections that really just clicked."

~~

Later that evening, the four of them sat around the large dinging table, silverware clinking against china plates. Brook had been relatively quiet at dinner, only making a few snide comments about Georgie bringing someone home after all these years.

"So, Jamie," Joan asked, dabbing her mouth with a napkin, "what are your future plans? Are you thinking of settling down soon?"

Georgie nearly choked on her wine.

Jamie cleared his throat, caught off guard by how quickly the question had come. "We're happy where we are right now. We're taking things step by step."

"Step by step," Michael echoed, his expression unreadable. "Interesting approach."

As the conversation continued, Jamie slipped up, almost reflexively saying, "What do you think, Georgi--" before catching himself. His eyes darted to her father, who looked up quickly.

"What Jamie meant to say was, what do you think, Georgina?"

Her father stared at him a long, agonizing few seconds before nodding. "Right. Georgina."

The room grew uncomfortably silent before Joan stepped in, "Well, it's been a lovely evening, but I think it's time for a nightcap in the sitting room, don't you think?"

~~

Georgie stepped into the extravagant bedroom she'd made hers, flicking on the soft, golden lights. The space was luxurious as ever--thick drapes, an oversized canopy bed, and rich mahogany furniture. She always felt like an outsider in this house, like she playing pretend.

Jamie let out a low whistle, eyeing up the room's decor. "This is... next level, Georgina."

"You don't have to use that name when it's just us," she shuddered.

"I know. But I'm practicing for tomorrow."

"I think we survived today, don't you?" she asked, leaning against the bedpost.

Jamie walked over and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest. "I'd say we did pretty well. Your parents don't seem to hate me, and your dad didn't grill me too hard. I call that a win."

"Yeah, well, it's only day one. Brooks hasn't really gotten started yet, and tomorrow's going to be full of questions."

"We'll handle it. You were great tonight."

"Thanks," she murmured, pulling away from his arms and walking toward the bathroom. "I'm gonna shower. You should get ready for bed too."

Jamie sat on the edge of the massive bed, letting the events of the night replay in his mind. Dinner had gone better than he had expected, but it was still a tightrope act, not saying he wasn't a hockey player but also not saying he was.

Michael seemed like the type of guy who could sniff out weakness from several miles away. And while Jamie had managed to dodge the career question today, it was certain to come up again.

He stood up and pulled off his shirt, slipping into the pajamas Georgie had packed him--way fancier than his usual boxers... or nothing. He chuckled, shaking his head as he looked through the other clothes she'd packed. It looked like he was dressing in his pre-game suit almost everyday.

A few minutes later, Georgie emerged from the bathroom, her wet hair already curling at the ends and her body wrapped in one of Jamie's Flyers shirts she'd stolen months ago. She tossed the towel over a chair and climbed into bed with him, the mattress sinking under her.

"So, how do you think it went?" Jamie asked, trailing his fingers up her arm.

"Honestly?" she turned to face him, resting her head on his chest. "Better than I expected. My parents were... well, they were less intense than usual. And Brooks hasn't been too obnoxious yet, which is a miracle."

"I noticed your dad sizing me up, but he didn't go full interrogation mode. That was a relief."

"Yeah, that's win. I think they're still trying figure you out. But they liked you, I could tell."

Jamie brushed his lips against her temple. "Good. As long as they don't hate me, I'll take it."

Georgie smiled, tilting her head to kiss him. The kiss started sweet, but quickly deepened, her hand sliding into his hair as their bodies pressed together under the plush duvet. Jamie's hands reached down to her ass, squeezing as he pulled her closer.

Just as things were heating up, the door burst open.

"Georgina!" Brooks' voice rang through the room, as loud and annoying as ever. "Oh, shit, sorry! Didn't mean to interrupt your little... thing."

Georgie shot up, pulling away from Jamie who groaned. "Brooks, what the hell? Get out! Have you never head of knocking?"

"Relax, Georgina! I just wanted to see how lover boy here is settling in. Didn't realize you two were... busy. Sorry to interrupt your... bonding time."

Jamie forced a smile, clearly trying to hide his irritation. "Everything's fine, Brooks."

"Good, good. I'll leave you two lovebirds alone. Just wanted to say, Jamie, you survived round one. But don't get too comfortable," he chuckled, turning on his heel and leaving.

Georgie fell back on the pillows with a groan. "God, he's fucking insufferable."

Jamie laughed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Hey, at least he didn't walk in five minutes later."

"That's one way to look at it."

Jamie smirked, pulling her back into his arms. "Now, where were we?"

~~

Georgie and Jamie entered the dining room together, the table already meticulously set. Michael was at the head of the table, his newspaper folded neatly beside him. Joan sat to his right, sipping from an expensive looking teacup, while Brooks lounged in his chair, his breakfast barely touched.

"Good morning, Georgina, Jamie," Joan smiled, gesturing for them to sit down. "Did you sleep well?"

"We did, thank you," Georgie smiled, taking a seat next to Jamie, who was still adjusting to his new surroundings.

"I was just telling your mother," Michael began, folding his hands in front of him, "that I'd like to get to know more about you, Jamie. We didn't get to dig too deeply into your background yesterday."

Georgie internally groaned. Here we go.

Jamie just smiled, reaching for the coffee pot. "Of course, sir. What would you like to know?"

"Let's start with your family." Michael spoke with the tone he used with clients. He was acting like he was conducting a fucking business meeting. "Where do they live? What do they do?"

"My family's still in Toronto. My dad's a construction manager and my mom is a teacher."

"Hmm, working class. Must've been quite the change for you, being in the States then?"

"It was, but I've adjusted."

Brooks snorted into his coffee. "Yeah, sounds like a big shift. Not everyone's used to... this kind of life, right, Jamie?" He waved his hand around the room, clearly enjoying his subtle jab.

"Brooks," Georgie snapped.

"What? I'm just making conversation. I mean, Jamie here's gotta be doing pretty well for himself if he's hanging with us, right?"

"I'm doing alright," Jamie shrugged.

As breakfast continued, Joan took a more pleasant, if not extremely pressuring approach.

"So, Jamie," she began sweetly. "Georgina's father and I were talking last night. And we couldn't help but wonder--you said you're taking things step by step. But you've been together... what was it? 7 months? That's an awful long time to not think about marriage or children."

"Mom!"

"What? I'm just curious," Joan said with a light laugh. "I think it's a fair question. I mean, I'd love a grandbaby or two soon."

Brooks took that as his cue to jump in, "Yeah, I bet you guys have been practicing lots."

Georgie turned bright red. "Brooks, shut up!"

"Brooks, enough," Michael boomed, though he didn't seem like he fully understood the joke. "But your mother's right. You've been together a while now. What's next?"

"We're not rushing into anything, Daddy. We're happy."

"Well, as long as you're happy."

~~

By the time that lunch rolled around, the questions had been relentless. Michael and Brooks had been shooting questions at Jamie, left, right, and centre. As they sat down for another formal meal, Michael decided it was time to be straightforward once more.

"So, Jamie, I've been wondering about your work. You mentioned you came to the States for career opportunities. What exactly do you do?"

Jamie hestitated for a moment, knowing there was no ducking out of this one. He met Georgie's eyes, and she gave him a small nod.

"I'm a professional hockey player."

The room went silent. Brooks' fork clattered onto his plate, while Joan's expression was frozen in a mask of surprise.

"A... hockey player?" Michael asked, it was clear from his tone that he didn't find that nearly as respectable as he'd hoped. "As in... professional sports?"

"Yes, sir. I play for the Philadelphia Flyers."

Joan blinked. "Well, that's certainly... unexpected."

Brooks, on the other hand, couldn't hold back his laughter. "Wait, wait--you're telling me you're a jock?" He slapped the table, howling. "And here I was thinking you were some kinda bigshot investor or something! Georgina's dating a fucking jock! That's gold!"

"Brooks, stop it," Georgina glared.

"And how long do you think this career will last, Jamie? Professional sports aren't exactly known for their longevity, are they?" Michael ignored his son's antics.

"I'm aware it's not a forever career. But I'm building a future for myself beyond playing. I have a strong support system and I'm taking steps to ensure my financial stability."

"Hmm. I suppose that's... something."

Joan smiled tightly. "Well, it's certainly... different. Not exactly what we expected, but if Georgina's happy, then I suppose that's all that matters."

Brooks leaned forward, still chuckling to himself. "Well, this weekend just got a hell of a lot more interesting."

Jamie and Georgina excused themselves to the garden to get some fresh air. But mostly to distance themselves from the judgement inside.

"That went about as well as I expected," Jamie said drly.

"I'm so sorry, Jamie. They're just... like that. I knew they wouldn't get it right away."

"It's fine. I just didn't think it would feel this... awkward."

"They'll come around," Georgie insisted, though she wasn't sure she completely believed it herself.

Jamie nodded, pulling her closer as they walked through the garden. "At least we don't have to hide it anymore."

~~

The door to the office clicked shut behind Georgie. Why her dad needed an office at a house that was meant for relaxing was beyond her, but there she was. Michael sat behind his desk, his gaze laser focused on his daughter. She had known this was coming, but it didn't make it any easier.

"Sit down, Georgina."

She obeyed without a word, sinking into the leather chair opposite him. Her hands rested in her lap, picking at her fingernails as she waited for him to speak.

"I wanted to have this conversation with you privately. I didn't think it was appropriate to discuss in front of your mother or Brooks, but I need to make my concerns about Jamie clear."

Georgie didn't react. She's been taught not to talk back--to listen and absorb everything her parents said, even if it made her feel sick to her stomach.

"Georgina, a professional athlete... it's not the kind of career that provides stability. His schedule alone will keep him away from home most of the time. And if you decide to start a family..." he trailed off. "He won't be there."

Georgie clenched her fists tighter, willing herself to stay composed.

"And then there's the matter of the career itself," he scoffed. "Hockey players... they don't exactly need to be intellectuals. It's a sport, Georgina. It's not a career that requires real intelligence or long-term thinking. What happens when he gets injured? One bad hit, and it's all over. You'll be left with a man who has no real skills to fall back on. Is that really what you want for your future?"

"I want the best for you. I really do. You come from a family that values success, security, and stability. Jamie can't give you that, Georgina. His career could end tomorrow, and then what? You'll be left to pick up the pieces?"

Everything in her life was supposed to fit into a neat, respectable box. And she'd broken that. She knew that her father expected her to agree, to nod and promise to reconsider, to make the "right" choice. But she couldn't. And she wouldn't.

For the first time since sitting down, she met his eyes. "I love him, Daddy."

Michael leaned forward, letting out a slow breath. "Love is important, Georgina, but it's not enough. You're thinking with your heart, not your head. I'm trying to make sure you understand what you're getting yourself into."

Her hands were trembling in her lap. She didn't want to argue with him. She didn't try to defend Jamie or explain why they worked. Because she knew it wouldn't matter to him. Her father had already made up his mind.

Instead, she repeated herself. "I love him."

"You're an adult now, Georgina. I can't stop you from making your own decisions." His tone was cold, distant. "But I hope you understand the risks that you're taking."

"Is that all?"

"Yes, that's all."

Without another word, Georgie exited the office, her heart beating like a drum. Her whole body felt heavy and all she wanted to do was run to her room and scream into a pillow until she felt normal again. But first she had to find Jamie.

~~

At the same time Georgie was talking with her dad, Jamie was talking with Brooks. But rather than an office, they were sat in the living room. Brooks had his feet kicked up on the couch like he owned the place. Jamie was trying to embrace the silence, but Brooks wasn't the type for that.

"So, Jamie," his voice dripped with condescension, "let me get this straight--you play hockey for a living?"

Jamie, who had been scrolling through Instagram, glanced up. "Yeah. I play for the Flyers."

"Right. The Flyers. And how long do you think that's going to last?" He chuckled, clearly amused with his own question. "I mean, sports careers aren't exactly... permanent, are they? A couple bad hits, a bad knee, and boom--you're done."

Jamie set his phone down. He'd expected some grilling from Brooks, but his smug attitude was starting to grate on him. "Yeah, I'm aware it's not forever. But I've been smart about it. I'm planning for a life after hockey."

"Right. Cause I'm sure you have time for that while you're chasing pucks around the ice. Tell me, Jamie, what happens when it's all over? When your fifteen minutes are up? You think you're gonna be some big shot, or are you going to be a washed-up athlete, living off whatever's left in your savings? What's the plan when my sister leaves you because you've got nothing left to give?"

"I'm not worried about that, Brooks."

"Oh, sure you aren't. What's the backup plan? When hockey's done, what're you gonna do? Coach some peewee league? Work at a sports bar? Or just ride Georgina's coattails?"

Jamie's hands balled into fists. Brooks was making it personal now, but Jamie refused to let him get under his skin. "I'm not planning to fail, Brooks. I've worked hard to get where I am, and I'm doing everything I can to make sure I'm set for the future. I don't need a backup plan because I'm building my future now."

"You know, I don't get it. What does my sister see in you? Sure, you've got the whole 'athlete' thing going for you, but... what else? What happens when the fame fades and the money's not rolling in? You think you're going to be able to keep up with Georgina's lifestyle."

"Georgie and I don't live your lifestyle. We have our own."

"Right. Your own. You do realize the kind of family you're dealing with, right? My parents aren't just rich--they're legacy. This whole life, this world, is built on families like ours. And you? You're just some guy who got lucky with a stick and puck. Got even luckier when a rich girl fell for your whole 'pretty boy' act. You think you're gonna hold up under that kind of pressure?"

"I'm not here for approval, Brooks. I love Georgie and she loves me. That's all that matters."

"Good luck with that, Jamie," he laughed. "Because love doesn't pay the bills."

~~

Georgie sat next to the bath, running her hand under the water to find the perfect temperature to wash away the day. The door clicked and in walked Jamie, his expression tight.

"Hey," she whispered, turning to look up at him. "I was thinking... maybe we could take a bath? Just... relax for a bit."

"A bath?"

"Yeah," she shrugged. "This place is fancy, might as well use it. Plus... we could both use a break from the outside world, don't you think?"

Jamie smiled softly, "Alright, a bath it is."

They undressed in a comfortable silence, the day's stress already fading away with the steam rising from the tub. Jamie slid in first, leaning back against the curved edge of the tub. Once he was settled, Georgie climed in and rested her back against his chest. Jamie closed his eyes, leaning his head against the back of the tub, while Georgie played with his hand, the tension draining from his body.

"Brooks have you a hard time, didn't he?"

"Yeah, you could say that. He pretty much tore into me, picking every piece of me apart." He rested his other hand on his knee, not opening his eyes as he spoke. "He was throwing every insult he could think of. Basically said I'm a jock with no future and that I'm only with you because of your family's money."

"I'm sorry, Jamie. Brooks doesn't know when to stop. He's... he's such an asshole."

Jamie shook his head, "It's not your fault. I knew it wouldn't be easy with him, or dad for that matter."

"Speaking of my dad... we had a conversation too."

"What did he say?"

"He told me that he's worried. That you're not... stable. That your career could end at any moment, and he doesn't think it's a smart choice for me to be with you."

Jamie's jaw tightened. "So he thinks I'm a temporary thing?"

"It's more than that," she replied, tracing patterns on the surface of the water. "He doesn't think being a hockey player requires intelligence. He kept saying you don't have 'real skills' and asked what would happen if you get injured. He was so... dismissive."

"I'm not going to say I'm surprised. Your dad made it pretty fucking clear he doesn't think much of me. He didn't have to say it outright."

"I hated it. I sat there and let him pick you apart like you're some kind of... I don't know, risk? But all I could tell him was that I love you. That was all I could say."

"That's enough, Gee. You don't need to justify anything to them. I know it's hard, but we're on the same page, and we'll get through it."

"I just wish they could see you the way I do."

"Maybe they will," he brought his hand up to rub her shoulders. "Maybe they won't. But I'm not going anywhere, no matter what they think."

"I'm so lucky to have you," she leaned into his touch.

"I think I'm the lucky one."

Gee turned around, sloshing water onto the floor in the process, but she didn't care. She cupped his cheeks and kissed him. For a while they just sat there, enjoying each other's company, stealing the occasional kiss. As long as they had each other, they could survive anything.

~~

Tension radiated from Jamie, his posture rigid. He'd barely touched the soup that had been placed in front of him. Georgie had only looked at her food, her stomach much to upset to eat. She was hyper-aware of the silence that fell whenever Jamie answered someone's question or when Brooks threw in an unnecessary comment.

"You know," Brooks said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I never realized my sister had such low standards. I mean, a hockey player? I guess you've got one hell of a personality, because you sure don't have much else going for you."

Jamie's jaw clenched for the thousandth time that day, his eyes darting to Georgie, waiting for her to speak. But she couldn't. She couldn't form any words. Her parents exchanged uncomfortable looks, but neither made a move to stop him. It was if they were waiting to see how it played out, complicit in his cruel jokes.

Brooks wasn't done. "I mean, come on, Georgina. You could do better. Or are you so easy you'll settle for someone this fucking pathetic?"

Something inside Georgie snapped.

Her hands slammed on the table, silverware rattling. "That's enough, Brooks!" Her voice was filled with a fury she'd never let show in front of her family. Her whole body trembled as the words spilled out before she could stop herself.

"How dare you talk about Jamie like that? You have no idea who is, what he's accomplished. He's a thousand times the person you'll ever be, and I'm tired of pretending like I'm okay with your constant insults and fucking disrespect!"

She turned to her parents.

"And you two! You sit there and let him say these horrible things! You act like it's fine because it's Brooks, and that's what he does. But it's not fine! None of this is fine!"

Jamie reached for her hand under the table, but she pulled away, standing up. "Jamie is the love of my life! Do you hear me? I'm going to marry him someday! And I don't care what any of you have to say about it!"

Her mother gasped, raising a hand to her heart. Her father's face grew stony, clearly disapproving of her outburst. But Georgie didn't care what they thought. She was far beyond the the point of caring.

"You don't get to judge him! You don't get to make me feel ashamed for loving him, and you don't decide who I'm 'supposed' to be with. Jamie and I are building a life together! If you can't deal with that, you won't be seeing me ever again. I'm done. With the insults, with the judgement. Fucking all of it!"

"Let's go," she whispered to Jamie, taking his hand in hers as they exited the dining room.

"Georgina--"

"No," she interrupted her father, "I said what I needed to say. If you can't accept Jamie, then you can't have me in your lives."

With that, she and Jamie left the room, the slam of the door sending shockwaves through the whole room.

~~

Georgie and Jamie left the grand house behind them, still walking hand in hand. Neither of them had spoken since they packed their things and walked out--there was too much to process, too much had just happened at once. They didn't speak until they reached the car when Jamie broke the silence.

"You okay?" he asked, turning to face her.

Georgie sighed, leaning against the car. "I don't know," she admitted. "I mean yes... I'm okay. But I just... can't believe I actually just did that. I've never stood up to them like that before."

"You were amazing in there, Georgie. You didn't just stand up to them... you like stood up for us. For me."

Georgie leaned her head on his chest. "I couldn't listen to it anymore. My dad, Brooks... all the judgement. I just snapped. But I meant every word of it, Jamie. I meant it when I said I'm going to marry you one day."

Jamie's eyes widened. He knew how serious they were about each other, but hearing her say it, especially under such emotional circumstances, made him feel a way he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before.

"You know... we don't have to wait."

"What do you mean?" she pulled away from his chest, blinking rapidly.

"I mean, we don't have to wait for 'someday.' I don't have a ring right now, but this isn't some grand proposal... but I love you, Georgie. And after the weekend we've been through... I don't want to wait. Let's do it. Let's get married."

Georgie couldn't believe her ears. It wasn't the proposal she'd dreamed of growing up--not a fancy dinner, not on exotic vacation, and with no ring. It was so unbelievably Jamie. And none of that mattered. What mattered was him. What mattered was them, together.

"Are you serious?" she whispered.

"Completly serious. I know it's not traditional in any sense of the word, but we can figure out the details later. You're it for me, Georgie. You're the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. I love you. Let's start the rest of our lives. No more waiting."

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, and she laughed her way through them. "Oh my God, Jamie. Yes. Yes, I'll marry you."

Jamie pulled her into a kiss, holding her close. It wasn't the picture perfect proposal. It wasn't grand or over-the-top. But it was real. It was them.

When they finally pulled apart, Georgie wiped at her eyes. "I can't believe we're actually doing this."

"We are. Together, no matte what. Your family might come around one day, maybe they won't. But it doesn't matter, Georgie. I promise you that."

"I know. And I don't care what happens with them right now. All I know is that I need to be with you."

"Then it's settled. We're getting married. Me and you."

"You and me."

They stood there for a few more minutes, just wrapped in each other's arms. There were still so many things they had to figure out--but for now, none of that mattered. All that mattered is that they had each other. And they were ready to take on the world.

[he1chouarts]

I loved the Underdark as soon as I got there and it’s one of the areas I’m excited to revisit on a replay because I didn’t exactly 100% Grymforge, so this idea that Astarion and the spawn end up there (and thus, partnered Tav) really just tickles my brain wrinkles in all the right ways.

It’s so beautiful! It’s so dangerous! The possibilities seem endless. I loved the Myconid colony. I loved digging up a dead dog’s shock collar and putting it on Astarion…before realizing it was a dead dog’s shock collar.

I loved the side quests. I loved the absolutely terrifying monsters. I didn’t love being blown up or shoved into chasms so much, but the uptick in difficulty had its charm.

I love thinking about what Astarion’s life is going to be like down there. Difficult, but also beautiful because it’s his first taste of freedom. Freedom from slavery, freedom from Cazador, the tadpole, the Elder brain. Freedom from his own prison of fear. I love thinking about the adventures he and Tav will have as they search for a way to give the sun back to Astarion, and a way to extend Tav’s lifespan (maybe snagging Gale for help with that one).

I love to think about them surviving all kinds of scrapes, of taking in little weirdos not dissimilar from them when they fell out of the Nautiloid. I love thinking about the changes Astarion will undergo as he heals, as he remembers who he was, as he forges an identity for who he is yet to be.

I love thinking about the jokes they’ll crack to one another, the nights they’ll spend under the moon so Tav can remember the way the moonlight reflects off of Astarion’s hair like the two were made for each other. I love to think about the beauty of their dark life, their dark romance, which can be just as exquisite and meaningful as it ever was under the harsh glare of the sun, even as they chase and endeavor to grasp at it.

I love all these things. I think about them constantly.

[skrrts]

Home Is ✧ hongjoong version (oneshot)

✧ gn!reader x kim hongjoong ✧ genre: non-idol, slice of life, fluff, romance ✧ word count: 1,1k

You have found the love of your life, and now the two of you are ready for the next step in your relationship: moving together. Neither of you can wait to finally be able to spend every day together but it's out of the question ... the whole progress looks a lot more casual and aesthetical on social media than it actually is. Chaos. In the middle of the chaos that is moving in, Hongjoong wants you to enjoy this. Moving shouldn't only be an exhausting memory but something you enjoy. He makes you take a break & you make something for your new home together.

a/n: this wraps up my friday mini series for September. thanks a lot to everyone who has been reading along. i figured concluding it with hongjoong is a fun idea, he's definitely enjoying the progress and it takes all longer but is more fun.

The entire apartment was a mess. Unopened and half-emptied boxes were everywhere, items scattered over the floor, or just placed on top of stored furniture in between made-up couches and a mattress that served as a bed. When Hongjoong and you decided to move together, everything seemed perfect until it wasn't. The promised renovation took longer than scheduled and instead of having time to paint walls and slowly set up furniture, two apartments needed to be emptied for the new tenants within just a few days. Now bedroom and living room were shoved into the atelier so that you could slowly work on painting the walls.

Your mood had taken a toll and you admired your boyfriend, who still looked prettily cute and content while you had no idea where to start or finish for the day. You were thankful for his encouragement for you to go and pick up your dinner for the night, walks always calmed your mind. By the time you came back, you were already feeling better.

You were met by the familiar smell of fresh paintings. Honestly, back in high school you never expected to fall in love with a painter but here you were, in your first shared apartment that also included an atelier.

Hongjoong had moved a few of the boxes together, a plastic tablecloth on top with a large variety of colors prepared from bright to neon and pastels. There were cups of water, pencils and a small pile of canvases.

"This doesn't look like dinner," you teased, his smile growing instantly as he got up to kiss you. "I thought, since we ordered salad anyway, it could wait.- It was a stressful weekend and you deserve some relaxation and fun." Says the one having the time of his life painting the walls in the most stunning gradients by hand.

"Is that so?" you smiled, placing the food aside so he could tug you into a hug, foreheads resting together: "I also really wanted to do something special so we always would remember this first time together."

Hongjoong always was like this, excited and optimistic, trying to make the most out of anything and always looking out to cheer you up. One of the many qualities why you fell for him.

"That sounds perfect," you whispered, a final kiss was placed before he led you over and you sat down on one side of the table. "Now then, what should we paint?"

He was smiling his cute smile, the one that showed he was really excited about doing this with you, making a special memory together. "Anything! Well, I want to put it in the small spot in the living room. You know, the one where you noted we still haven't picked anything. And no, you aren't allowed to worry, just have fun. Pick any color you want! Those are my leftovers and I really need to finish them so we also do something good."

Hongjoong was very dedicated to his art, the joy of painting but also not to waste anything. He was very content to use every last drop of paint before buying a new one.

"Alright, let's do this," you chuckled. It felt a little surreal how you were sitting in such a mess but you tried to focus. The image that came to mind first was how your living room would look like when all was set up. There was a tiny balcony and you got a new couch, some messy curtains with a pattern Hongjoong chose, and bold pillows.

It was nice to imagine what the result would be, like recharging the stress of the past few days. Once you decided what to go for, the rest was easy. You were the type to get lost in whatever you were doing. Making a few rough sketches then trying colors on spare paper.

For a while, it seemed Hongjoong was doing the same but by the time you were half way done, the soft click of his camera made you look up, blushing.

"Hey!"

he chuckled sweetly, looking innocent as he rushed to place the phone back down on the table. "Couldn't resist, you are just so cute when you are all lost in progressing."

He was right but you were still pouting: "Sush! You should rather finish your painting." Hongjoong smirked, showing you his already completed free-style art, it was beautiful but you got shy because it was a version of you, here and now.

"Cheating," you mumbled, your cheeks just more red as you cleared your throat. "How about you help me then?" Hongjoong smiled brightly, it was one of the happiest looks you had seen him with and he stood up, sitting behind you, partly pulling you onto his lap.

"I can't wait, our home. Our own little happy place," he whispered, pressing a kiss on your cheek before taking a spare pencil and helping you finish your painting. By the time you finished, you couldn't deny how relaxed you felt.

Hongjoong's arms curled around your waist as you relaxed back against him, your eyes closed when he just held you like that. "This is nice," you admitted. I feel, living with you really won't ever be boring."

Your boyfriend chuckled: "Well, it surely will be a little chaotic but I am your favorite chaos after all."

So silly!

Hongjoong bit his lip, he looked at you and when your gazes met, there was no denying there were many more thoughts but those were kept for another day.

"Dating, moving together... don't care where exactly the journey will take us but meeting you, it has been my best adventure... And always will be my favorite."

You poked his cheek but smiled: "And now you are all sappy. Feel my heartbeat? Always all wild for you."

The man grinned as he finally slowly stood up, your eyes wandered over the mess that was just in every part of your new home. "Quite a bit of work to do," he sighed, pushing brown hair back: "But for today, I think we did enough. Let me put our artwork aside and clean up, then we can eat."

You gave him a quick nod, wiggling your hands covered in dried paint. "I will clean those."

Hongjoong nodded and started to carefully put the painting tool in a bowl to clean it, as you stopped in the door, you looked at him, adoring, loving.

You really were lucky, chaos or not. This home was your dream come true, always wishing to move together with whoever the love of your life would be and you did quite a good pull with this one, right?

"Joong, you know... after we ate, maybe we should properly test out our big new bathtub," you grinned. His cheeks flushed when he looked up, mumbling something.

This time you laughed: "Leave it to me, I will prepare it."

Hongjoong rolled his eyes as the two of you smiled at one another. Now, you were both home.

[necrotic-nephilim]

in my mind brudick marriage happens almost byaccident: after bruce “dies” dick is left alone and without access to damian or the manor or funds as he was never adopted and is only a former ward, so in dicks grieving mind the clearest way forward is to forge a secret but technically legal marriage, bruce doesn’t find out for years after he comes back, damian knew why he was in custody with richard and assumed it was common knowledge that no one ever brought up, alfred just lets this all play out even knowing that bruce did have a clause in his will to protect dick incase of death (plans upon plans), bruce was upset in all the ways bruce would deny his feelings

this is SUCH a good thought oh my god-

first of all, i am kissing you on the mouth for adding morally fucked up Alfred who just *lets* this play out. he could easily intervene and he *should*, but the idea that he doesn't because for some reason he thinks this is for the best is *such* good food. i love the thought that Alfred knows about unresolved BruDick feelings and feels in Bruce's death, Bruce at least deserves the one thing he never allowed himself to have in life: Dick's hand in marriage. and Dick is so deep in denial and just trying to legally keep hold of Damian and Wayne Enterprises. it's such a stupid last ditch effort and he doesn't even expect it to *work* but it does. Dick is able to keep it under wraps with only a few lawyers and WE higher ups knowing, the public assumes Bruce naturally left everything to Dick bc why wouldn't he? Dick is his eldest ward, after all. Damian knows bc he sees all the papers concerning Dick having his legal guardianship and he just shrugs it off because really, his father's relationship with Dick is none of his business.

and of course, when Bruce comes up there are so many *other* things to handle that Dick just doesn't think to mention it. he's not willingly withholding the information and Bruce assumes Dick *knew* about the contingencies Bruce set up for his death so he doesn't question Dick having all this control. it's not until years later when one of his WE lawyers passingly mentions "oh you might need your husband to sign off on this too" and Bruce is like. i'm sorry my *what*. because he knows the Batfam got up to some chaotic things trying to keep his death a secret, but no one mentioned a *husband*. so Bruce checks the paperwork and is going through every single stage of grief because *did no one think to tell him he's legally married to Dick.* Bruce demands answers and Dick has to awkwardly explain the whole thing to a baffled Bruce who just asks why Dick didn't *check Bruce's files* for this. (maybe Dick didn't think to, maybe Alfred deleted them, who's to say) Bruce wants to be mad at Dick, mostly for not telling Bruce. but all his unspoken feelings make it *very* difficult to figure out what to do. especially when Dick offers to quietly get a divorce since enow the marriage isn't needed and Bruce's *gut* reaction is to blurt out no, no no let's not do that. and he can't explain why he's so against it without admitting how badly he wants to be married to Dick even amidst the worst of his feelings.

it takes them months to actually *talk* about it, and tbh it's probably Damian's assumptions about their relationship that make them face it. bc to Damian the mutual feelings are obvious and the marriage is known so yes of course, Bruce and Dick are in love and together what's so difficult to understand about this, it's no one's business but their own. (i especially love the idea of Damian chastises other characters like Tim for trying to ask questions because doesn't Tim know romance for Bruce is a very private affair and it's *wildly* disrespectful of Tim to think he has the right to know these things.) and so when Damian makes a passing comment about their relationship and Bruce and Dick share a mortified look, they realize they have to talk about it. and instead of ending on clearing the air, they accidentally confess feelings for one another. it's stilted and painful, but they manage to agree maybe they can keep the marriage going. and maybe they don't have to correct Damian.

(also, this is a side thought but: i think a lot about how Tommy Elliot was made to pretend to be Bruce while Bruce was dead and all that fun, and i think it's fun if Tommy knows about the marriage bc he helped Dick sign off on it. and Tommy tries to force Dick into a relationship with him to "maintain the facade" and Dick rejects the advances, maybe Tommy even forces himself on Dick once or twice. it doesn't go too far and they get Tommy back under control, but it's clear Tommy's annoyed when Bruce comes back and he doesn't get to "have his fun" anymore. also fun if Bruce finds out about this and is *furious* bc not only did he not know he's married to Dick, but it was *Tommy* who got to have Dick as a husband before Bruce did and now he's jealous and pissed about the whole thing. just a fun little aside thought bc i wish the fandom had more fun with Tommy's era of pretending to be Bruce.)

[amaltheas-garden]

Jon and Sansa will bring the story of Rhaegar and Lyanna full circle:

We have very few details on the relationship between Rhaegar and Lyanna, but what we do know is Lyanna was in an unwanted betrothal to Robert at the time she disappeared with Rhaegar. Whether she went willingly or not is up to speculation. Aside from Robert, most accounts agree that Rhaegar embodied the fairy tale prince-like character (prior to the war). Lyanna wept at the beauty of his music, and was crowned his queen of love and beauty before leaving her family forever. Her story ends alone in Dorne, dying in her bed of blood, abandoned by the man she thought would save her, begging to go home.

It's easy to see then, the parallels between Lyanna's ill-fated romance and the romantic dreams of her niece, Sansa Stark. Although the two share few similarities in personality and hobbies, both became enamored by princes who hide their darker nature, and lured them away from the safety of their homeland, before going to war with their families. However, Lyanna's story ended far from the North, dying in childbirth, whereas Sansa has escaped that fate (even more interesting considering Lyanna's book storyline is a near one to one of Sansa's in the original outline). And, if we recall the very beginning of A Game of Thrones, Robert proposes to Ned that they wed Joffrey to Sansa, joining their houses as he and Lyanna might have. There is a conscious effort on Robert's part to set the past right through the relationships of their children. So right from the jump Sansa is cast as the Lyanna stand in, though she too escapes her "Baratheon" betrothal, and is on course to run straight into Rhaegar's son (as per the girl in grey theory).

So where does Jon lie in all this? If we take the girl in grey prophecy to be about Sansa, we know the two will meet sometime in the near future. Sansa has already become disillusioned of her chivalric ideals of love and knighthood (that's not to say she doesn't believe in heroes and honorable knights, just that she's far more skeptical of surface appearance), and yet, it will be her bastard brother who will embody the traits of the hero Sansa has been searching for. Rhaegar appeared as the perfect prince, yet was the one to kill Jon's mother, and Sansa, in a similar situation, is seduced by the charm and beauty of Prince Joffrey, only to be exposed to his vicious cruelty, narrowly escaping his family (even more interesting to consider Lyanna, had she survived, would not have been Queen, as Elia was still his lawful wife, and would be considered a mistress to the King as there was no chance of her escaping Rhaegar now that she carried his child, similar to Joffrey marrying Margaery, while threatening to make Sansa his mistress). Jon on the other hand is the brooding, solemn, plain-featured bastard, sharing no traditional qualities with that of the typical hero. That is to say, he's about as far from Rhaegar as you could get. And yet, it is Jon who commits himself to defending and protecting those who cannot (Sam, the wildlings, Alys Karstark) because that's who he is. No songs are sung for the men of the Nights Watch, he doesn't gain anything by protecting those others might deem weak, unworthy, or exploitable, but he does it anyway. Jon does not look nor act the part, but the strength of his moral character is what distinguishes him as the unconventional hero of the story.

I would also draw a comparison between the legend of Azor Ahai sacrificing his wife Nissa Nissa and Rhaegar's "sacrifice" of Lyanna, to bring about the third head of the dragon he thought necessary to save the world. After reading @/stormcloudrising's phenomenal metas on Sansa's connection to Nissa Nissa/the Amethyst Empress, I believe the idea of sacrifice will appear again in relation to Jon's character arc. Many in the fandom have speculated that AA/NN and the Bloodstone Emperor/Amethyst Empress are one and the same, the former featuring the sacrifice of a wife, the latter a usurpation of a sister. Sansa already occupies the (false) position as Jon's sister, while Jon has refused to usurp her rights as heir to Winterfell. However, with Jon's parentage reveal, the opportunity of a Jon/Sansa romance becomes possible, potentially elevating her to the status of love interest. And, if we're going with the NN/AE are the same theory, it would mean she occupied the role of both sister and wife. As for Rhaegar, his prophecy obsession is what led to him endangering Lyanna, placing his need for the third dragon above her own safety, ultimately killing her. Jon spends a good chunk of ADwD with Stannis, a claimant to the title of AA/the Prince that was Promised, who similarly struggles with the question of sacrificing one life to save the world, "What is the life of one bastard boy against a kingdom?” (ASoS) To which we already know the answer, Everything. Stannis, like Rhaegar, will fail the moment he sacrifices Shireen to fulfill his "greater purpose". Daenerys is also a claimant to the title, and we will likely see a contrast between how she and Jon approach being Rhaegar's heirs and inheritors of the prophecy. Stannis will lose everything after Shireen's death, the same as Rhaegar when he left Lyanna to die, condemning House Targaryen to death in the ensuing war. Jon will likely face a similar decision of sacrifice upon discovering he could be the subject of prophecy that consumed his father and once honorable king. And just as he refused to usurp Sansa's claim, he will reject the sacrifice of a loved one (lover perhaps?) as prerequisite to fulfilling his role as AA/TPtwP.

Jon's character always comes back to his identity as a Stark. Discovering his true parentage will undoubtedly be a source of inner conflict, culminating in his decision between Stark and Targaryen (spoiler: its Stark). It's a classic case of sins of the father, and how Jon asserts himself as an individual outside of his father's tainted legacy. Jon being the hero to Sansa and helping her return home would effectively resolve the generational conflict caused by Rhaegar's "kidnapping" of Lyanna away from the North. Rhaegar caused immense amounts of pain to the Stark family through his one act of selfish cruelty, which Jon will rectify through one of loyalty and selflessness. And narratively, Lyanna's son being the one to save her niece and return her to Winterfell would just be so chef's kiss.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Hello! What do you think about Natalie, her writing and fandom treatment? I find it fascinating that despite all the evil, she has so many fans, and even those who salt on ML and the Agrestes heavily often portray her as cool and/or sympathetic.

Prior to season five, I had mixed feelings about Nathalie. I like badass female villains, but I don't like women being idiots over men. Those were her two defining traits in season three and four, so my attitude was mostly, "can we please switch her motivation so that I can love her? I really want to love her because, if we remove the romance crap, then she reminds me of Shego and the world needs more Shegos!"

Then season five hit....

I utterly despise Nathalie's season five writing and think it makes her look weak, cruel, and ineffectual. I have no idea why so many people adore her and are excited that she's Adrien's new mom. She is not meaningfully better than Gabriel. In fact, season five Nathalie bothers me more than Gabriel. Why? Because Gabriel is the villain. He's allowed to be villainous. When Nathalie was a villain, the same rules applied. But the show claims that she's good now and yet she does nothing meaningful to stop Gabriel even though she could have.

Nathalie lives in the Agreste mansion, knows all of Gabriel's secrets, and has access to his secret lair. We also see her pin Gabriel to a table, undo his senti commands, and boss him around without any retaliation. He just rolls over and takes it. This is not the setup for a weak willed woman who sits idly by crying woe is me because she has no true power, yet that's basically what Nathalie is in season five. The first part of the final even outright confirms that Nathalie knows Gabriel's ultimate plan:

(A Tsurugi Industries pop-up appears on the screen.) Ad voice: After months of research, Tsurugi Labs have found the antidote– Nathalie: (Swipes the pop-up away.) He's going to finally do it...

So why didn't she find a way to contact the heroes and tell them what was going on? Why did she wait until she was dying to do something? Right after the above line, she grabs her crossbow and goes off to find Gabriel in a moment that made me roll my eyes. It's such blatant pathetic fan service. Only now when Nathalie is too weak to make a difference is she finally allowed to make a token effort to stop the man that she's been babying all season.

If Nathalie was allowed to be the kind of character they wrote her to be, then she would have acted much sooner and to greater effect. For example, imagine if her akumatization was just a ruse to get to the heroes. Once she loses and Gabriel can no longer see what's going on, she calls on the heroes to wait and then tells them everything, offering to help stop Gabriel. That's the kind of shit I'd expect from Nathalie's character.

Instead she just lays around in bed and occasionally pleads with Gabriel to change his mind like in this scene from Intuition:

Nathalie: Gabriel, you may only have a few weeks left like this... and I don't have much more than that. Maybe it's time to stop chasing after the Miraculous and start looking for a solution for Adrien. Make sure he's not alone once we're gone. (Hearing these words, Gabriel's eyes start to fill with sadness. Nathalie places her hands over Gabriel's.) Nathalie: Do it. For Emilie.

Nathalie, you have known this man for literal decades. Why do you expect this to work? Wake up and take charge, woman! Tell Adrien yourself! Help the heroes! Right your wrongs! You are literally dying! What do you have to lose? She honestly comes across pretty hypocritically here because, as she pointed out, they are both actively dying, which will leave Adrien alone, and yet Nathalie also does nothing to prepare Adrien for that. She just wrings her hands and hopes that Gabriel will do the right thing for both of them and I just... GAHHHHH!!!

The only semi-meaningful thing that Nathalie does in season five is undo Gabriel's commands, but that's literally just her maintaining the status quo. It's only there so that the writers don't have to deal with the senti stuff having any real consequences beyond delaying the Adrienette kiss a few episodes. Nathalie isn't trying to free Adrien or get his rings into safe hands before her death. She's just withering away and listening to Adrien talk about Marinette while knowing that he will soon lose everything. It's legitimately upsetting to me.

The anger some people feel about Marinette's actions at the end of the final is how I felt about Nathalie for all of season five and Nathalie is a freaking adult who has known everything for years. Matinette only knows the truth in a context where she can tell Adrien for about two on-screen minutes and that's assuming that Marinette figured out that Adrien is a sentimonster from context clues which she may not have! No one ever explicitly told her the truth and she had a lot of things thrown at her in rapid succession. I would not be stunned if season six reveals that she's still in the dark.

Nathalie is not sympathetic. She has had full agency and knowledge throughout the entire show. She has never been forced to do anything. She is the only peacock wielder to wield it knowing that she would die. She willingly supported Gabriel even when it put Adrien at risk. She outed Adrien's identity in Chat Blanc. She snapped away sentiBug! She's a great villain! She is a piss poor maternal figure.

The final annoying thing about her season five writing is that her "changing sides" makes no sense! She has no idea why the time travel plan failed and her own FIRST HAND EXPERIENCE is that Gabriel will put those he loves before defeating Ladybug (see: Ladybug where Gabriel chose Nathalie over winning). It is such a glaring example of bad writing that it infuriates me! This is the exchange I'm talking about:

Nathalie: (on-call) Gabriel, did it work? Gabriel: No, Ladybug tricked me! She stole the Time Miraculous from me! (Nathalie coughs from her sickness.) You have to help me! Come up with a new plan! Ladybug can’t get away with this! Nathalie: (on-call) You had the Time Miraculous. You could’ve chosen to save Emilie! You could’ve chosen to save me! (coughs) But instead, you chose your obsession with Ladybug and Cat Noir. You're insane, Gabriel!

Please remember that Nathalie has been helping him behind the scenes since the start and is fully aware that every plan he's ever made has failed even though she considered many of those dozens-if-not hundreds-of-plans brilliant.

Gabriel: If it were to fail Nathalie, I could never forgive myself. Nathalie: You made a promise to your wife. You've risked so much for the chance to bring her back. (Hands Gabriel her tablet) Lila has been harboring her rage against Ladybug for months, and today wherever she looks, she'll see the object of her hatred, and as predicted, her anger will reach devastating heights. Your plan is perfect, sir. Gabriel: And you're sure you want to do this? Nathalie: I will always be here for you. We will succeed.

Why is she suddenly so sure that this plan was different? What made her go from encouraging Gabriel to take risks to calling him insane? Why is she suddenly convinced that Gabriel can't possibly win and needs to focus on Adrien when she never said a word during the multiple akumas that directly threatened Adrien's life?

The meta reason is that the writers needed her to act as if she'd been watching the episode so that she wouldn't blindly support Gabriel anymore, allowing them to do the senti BS without it being meaningful to the story. The in show reason? I've got nothing. It is jarring to watch this while remembering that season four ended with Nathalie being given ownership of Adrien and willingly accepting that task, even going so far as to issue senti commands to "Adrien" to make him obey, which does not instill confidence in her parenting skills.

It's just so freaking infuriating. It would have been so much better if Nathalie was allowed to die and we got Emilie back. Nathalie did absolutely nothing to deserve a magical healing and I've been curious about Emilie since day one.

[brucewaynehater101]

I miss the feeling I had when I first joined this fandom, I knew virtually nothing so everything was correct and I loved everything, even if that stuff just isn’t true, i was like

Bruce is a bit emotionally constipated but loves his kids? Hell yeah sounds legit

dick is a silly happy flippy man who is a bit promiscuous? Love that for him

Jason is a mega feminist literature nerd who is also buff and takes care of the street kids? Perfect man honest

Tim is a nerd who never sleeps and is queer and has never known the touch of a man nor woman? Sweet

Steph is waffle obsessed goofball? Well I prefer pancakes but right on

Cass is a mute badass who loves her fam? I love her

Duke is a normal dude? Well someone has to be and he seems neat

Alfred can do no wrong? Aight, I love old perfect tea men

Damian is a little prick? So are all middle schoolers give him time

But then I had to go learn about the characters and now I have complex opinions about them, and can see the inherent racism and sexism in how they are portrayed

You know before I joined the bat fandom I did not use the exclude tag in ao3? Like tmnt and dp have some bad stuff but usually I could just scroll past.

but now I am having to avoid fics where whole ass adults are bullying and/or oversexulizing a child

Im constantly on the look out for untagged batcwst

I struggle to find fics that don’t describe dicks ass

I have been in this fandom for probably about two years now and y’all I swear

sorry for ranting, and don’t worry I love all your stuff and I know the just back click don’t leave mean comments rule

I’m just tried bc most of the stuff I thought was true turned out to be false

Mm. I do find it a little exhausting trying to navigate the lines of what's canon, what shouldn't be canon (but is due to racism/sexism/homophobia/etc.), and just having fun.

I'm also trying to cultivate the mindset of what I've seen on Tumblr about not policing other people's ships/ideas. I am highly uncomfortable with some (particularly underaged people and adults dating), but I'm also not leaving hate comments. Like you said, the backspace exists for a reason.

Idk. There's a toooon of takes/ideas about the batfam that are inherently false, but as long as they aren't racist/sexist/etc takes, I don't see the harm in them. So what if someone wants a coffee obsessed Tim? So what if Jason's kill code is very strict? As long as they don't claim it's canon, let them be

But yeah. I have a mile long exclude list for fics on AO3. I used to use it only for triggers (I can not do stockhold syndrome, my lords), but now it's got other weird ass shit I've stumbled upon (I saw a fic where the batkids were spanked as punishment??? Like I said, not gonna leave hate comments or single anyone out. Just not my cup of tea).

I also am usually not a fan of romance/sex. It's why the batfam intrigued me so much (found families usually don't have that in it). I like exploring dynamics outside of romance and thus love the batfam. They've got so much going on that romance/sex is not needed. They are such a mess without that dynamic being added (talking about the Bats getting with a third party, but, again, trying not to yuck anyone's yum).

However, I agree. There's a ton of misinformation within fandom. I like how complex canon gets with the characters, but there's also widely different takes with them (mostly talking about Bruce here. He can either be trying or just a straight up horrible dad).

[someverygaymoth]

So, so, so— afterdeath to destructivedeath pipeline, yeah?

With little teensy Goth.

Reaper meeting Error and romancing him and all of this, Error slowly beginning to love him, because he loves Error despite the fact that he's not Geno anymore, but moreso, he starts to feel guilty for lying to him. He feels guilty for knowing Reaper's coffee order, his favorite snacks, remembering them all after all this time, guilty for having spent a lifetime with him, that he simply chose to ignore.

He sits Reaper down and talks to him about it, lost of crying, lots of careful kissing, lots of promises and boundaries laid out.

It only seems right to Introduce Error to Goth, now. But, Error is so nervous. So scared Goth won't forgive him for disappearing, even If he couldn't help it. (Goth is like 6 or 7 now) Reaper talks away all his fears, reassuring him and comforting him, and they come up with an idea...

Reaper: hey kid...

Goth: dad's home!!!

R, scooping him up in a big hug: hey dove!! Hi! Sorry, work was long today... And I had to go and get someone...

G, curiously: get someone? Who?

R: in a second, dove.

He laughs, before thanking Blue for looking after Goth today. Reaper walks over to the couch and sits Goth down.

R: you know how I met someone special, a little while ago?

G: yeah, you met somebody you love!

R: yeah, yeah I did. Just like I met your Papa, and loved him.

G: oh.

R: you okay?

G: you don't like to talk about Papa.

R: no, no, I just... Miss him sometimes. And that's not a bad thing. People, they come and go. And sometimes they come back. Sometimes they don't. But, if they come back... Things are always different.

G: why?

R: well, people, they change. And grow. And sometimes, to change and grow, you have to be away from people. Even some people you really love.

G: like... How Papa went away?

R: yeah, like how Papa went away...

G: ...

R: Goth, do you know how caterpillars become butterflies?

G: oh, yes, they... Make a cocoon, and go in it, and then they become a butterfly!

R: that's right! But, it takes time for caterpillars to become butterflies.

G: how long?

R: weeks, sometimes.

G: gasp that's forever!

R: snickering yeah, well, people are just like butterflies. But going into their cocoon to grow... And change... It takes even longer. It takes years, sometimes.

G: years? But... That's so long... Won't they get sad?

R, tearful: they get very sad sometimes, yes. But we need to be sad to grow, sometimes. Your Papa, he went away because he needed that. And he was sad without you, and me, and the people he loved very very much. But, that's what he needed to grow and change.

G: he... He did? So... He became a butterfly?

R: yeah, he's... Very different now. He doesn't look the same. Just like a caterpillar doesn't look like a butterfly. And he doesn't act the same, just like Caterpillars don't fly and butterflies do, and his name is different, just like a caterpillar is called a Butterfly when it comes out of its cocoon. But one thing stays the same, do you know what that is?

Goth shakes his head, frowning

R: he is still your papa. And your papa loves you, more than anything in the whole multiverse.

G: do you promise?

R: it's not my place to promise.

G: oh...

R: do you, want to see him?

G, looking nervous: ... Are you sure...?

R: sure about what, dove?

G: that... Papa still loves me.

R: I'm never been more sure of anything, bud...

G: I... Want to see him.

R: Error, you can come in.

The door opens, and Error hesitantly steps through. He looks to Reaper first, and when his eyes fall to their little souling, tears come to his sockets.

Error: Hey, dove.

G: Papa?

E, walking over: yeah...

G: you're... Like a butterfly now?

E: yup, just like a butterfly.

G: do you have wings like dad now?

E, snickering and sniffling: no, not quite... I look pretty different though.

G: your skull is all better!

E, outright crying now: yeah, it is.

G: do you feel better now?

E, sitting down on the coffee table: I feel all better now.

G: ... Then... Why are you crying?

E: because I missed you... And I missed your dad, and... I'm happy I'm home.

G: are... Are you going to leave again?

E: no, I'm never going to leave you again.

G: do you promise?

E: cross my soul, I'm not leaving you again. I promise, little dove.

Error holds out his pinkie in a gentle offering, smiling a little.

G: your hands are colorful!

They take the offered pinkie and the promise is sealed.

E: yeah, they are.

G: ... Can I have a hug?

E: yeah... Yeah, always.

[panlight]

my take on the whole clumsy bella / amazing at vampire thing was that i thought she wasn't exactly *meant* to be a human and all of her clumsiness was alluding to this

I think this might have been what SM was going for, too, at least in retrospect. I don't know that she planned it necessarily -- your mileage may vary on that! -- but that's sort of the only way I can make the Bella the Best Vampire stuff work in my head.

She was ~destined for Edward specifically with her alluring scent and silent mind, but she was destined for vampirism more generally, never fitting in with the human world, always out of step, clumsy, awkward, etc. She can smell blood (although it makes her sick), she's good with weird, blah blah blah. I can see how it works there. Interesting contrast with the "Bella's an everygirl and purposefully somewhat vague in the original book so people cant step into her shoes" thing, though.

I just will always find it weird that we spent so much time, especially in the middle two books, worrying about how sad and miserable and lonely it is to be a vampire, how her very soul was at risk, only to have Bella become one and love it and be great at it. It just doesn't jibe with the Cullens' whole deal. Which is fine, I guess, but I kind of preferred the idea of these people making the best of a situation none of them asked for and finding a family, love despite what half of them see as a terrible curse. Bella being like "Actually being a vampire is easy and amazing!" tarnished the vibes for me. I wanted to see her learn, grow, adjust, understand why they had warned her against it. She could still succeed! She could still be happy! But just skipping the adjustment period and having Bella's thirst be a complete non-issue after like her second day as a vampire made me sort of go . . . why is she even writing about vampires at all?

But at the end of the day it's not really a "vampire story" so much as a YA romance with some light vampiring, and that's okay. It is what it is. I just happened to read it during a marathon read of vampire books, so I personally was reading it as a vampire story and there were lots of elements I really enjoyed from the 'vampire story' angle but then Breaking Dawn just ruined the stuff I liked because it got the Happily Ever After a romance calls for rather than the bittersweet ending I thought the vampire story needed.