#he came to terms w himself and decided that he’s not going to try to stop loving mike

[paladin-n-cleric]

will continuing to stare at mike long after the triple take speaks volumes but i won’t elaborate

#i’m kidding of course i have to elaborate #i feel like he saw the triple take and knew mike didn’t feel the same way #but will not looking away just showed so much #bc like it shows that even though he thinks mike is straight he didn’t try to throw away his feelings #he came to terms w himself and decided that he’s not going to try to stop loving mike #he’ll always love him even though he doesn’t think it’s reciprocated #and then his speech after that?? #that has to be acknowledged much much more #but that’s for another day #will byers #byler

[my-great-big-book-of-fan-fiction]

Katsuki Bakugou x F!reader - Fluff oneshot about being married and wanting babies

a little over 1k words, A fluff piece about Katsuki wanting a baby and wanting it NOW. Slightly spicy at the end, like paprika levels of spice (AGED UP THOUGH DON'T COME FOR ME). Give me your requests/comments, I love hearing from you people!

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"Wifey..." Katsuki grumbled, his face buried into your neck, his thumb gently rubbing the plush skin of your stomach up and down. One arm was wrapped around your waist, the other straight beneath your head, and the man himself was spooning you. It was early in the morning, 7:13 to be exact, and he had just woken up. He was still in his black tank top and boxers, It was basically his summertime uniform when it came to sleepwear. What could he say? He was a simple man.

The sun was shining in through the blinds, dappling the neat and tidy room with rays of light, inviting the both of you out of bed. It was a Saturday, the only day Katsuki took completely off (and only because you made him promise to), but unfortunately he woke up at around the same time he would be heading to work.

This pissed him off, especially because he had been up late staring at the ceiling thinking, but once he was up, he was up, and now he had to make it your problem. Your slow breath and heart beat was comforting, sure, but so were your kisses, and your smile, and he wanted that so he would have it. Besides, he had something to talk to you about.

When you didn't rise from his gentle approach, he grumbled and growled, already losing patience. He decided to nibble on your neck, right at the base where it met your shoulder. His tongue gently pressed against the skin, before his teeth pushed a little harder against you. He wasn't going to draw blood, he wasn't going to actually hurt you, but he wanted you up and awake.

You groaned, it was his sharp canines that woke you, but you were already used to his tactics and just waved it off. "Katsuki...Go back to bed..." you mumbled, pushing your face into your pillow and shifting a little in his arms so the blanket covered you even more. "You know I can't," He argued, his voice low and husky from the lack of use yet.

Biting won't work? Fine then. He slipped his muscled arm out from beneath your head, sliding it under your body and meeting his other hand around your waist. Suddenly, he flipped over fast, his version of a death roll. You yelped in surprise, your head falling onto what used to be his pillow, but once you registered what happened you sat up with a pissed look on your face.

"Ok, I'm up! What is so goddamn important that you have to do all that?" He sat up with you, resting his weight on one elbow and grinning. He loved when you were mad, something about it made him twice as attracted to you. He leaned in, planting a soft kiss on your cheek and grumbling, "I love you, Wifey." You had been married for 3 years and together for 8, he knew a thing or two about calming you down and making you happy. It worked and you knew it, your cheeks heating and your furrowed brow smoothing.

"W-well...You don't need to wake me up just to tell me that," you scoffed, trying to stay mad but ending up much calmer than before. "I didn't wake you up just for that, dumbass."

Your entire relationship, from acquaintances to spouses, he's called you that. It was to the point that in both of your vocabularies it was practically equal to the word "darling" or "baby," reserved for only the two of you and meant as a term of affection.

"Well what was it for," you asked with a peeved yet inquisitive voice, rubbing your eyes and laying back down to face him. he stayed sitting partially up, his hand grasping at your waist and pulling you close to him. He loved looking at you, seeing the little expressions you made, seeing all those pretty features so specific to you.

"Lets make a brat," He announced, grinning so widely that you'd think he was the Cheshire cat. He was never shy about his thoughts, always believing that beating around the bush got no one anywhere, but his frankness surprised you here.

You paused, your stunned expression amusing him, until finally you said, "W- Uh, R-Right now???" it was silent for a beat, before he burst out laughing at the fact that your first thought was the baby making and not the actual baby.

"No, idiot, not unless you wanna," he teased, planting a kiss on your forehead before placing his chin on your scalp as he pulled you against him. "Nah, I just thought...y'know...maybe it'd be time..." He seemed nervous bringing this up, and rightfully so. it was a delicate topic, and one the two of you hardly touched on. You always wanted kids, and he knew that, but he also knew that timing was everything.

"Well...we are pretty stable right now, financially...and our jobs are pretty flexible, too..." You seemed to be thinking it over. You yourself were on special call with the hero agency, meaning you had a good salary but only worked on special occasions because of the nature of your quirk, and Katsuki had an even better salary and could call off whenever necessary because his squad was reliable enough to take care of things while he was gone. finally, after what he felt was years, you smiled up at him.

"We should have a baby," you giggled, and he couldn't help but smile. You pushed him over, forcing him to lay on his back as you peppered his face with kisses. One of his hands rested on the small of your back, the other gripping your upper thigh as you straddled him. As you kissed his cheek, a thought occurred to you, one that got you too curious to ignore. "How long have you been wanting this, anyway?"

He shrugged, sitting straight up and holding you in his lap. "Dunno," He mumbled. What a bad liar. You gave him that look, the one that meant he wasn't being slick, and he blushed red. "Shut up," he groaned, his hand rubbing up and down your sides mindlessly.

"I haven't said anything," you remarked, which caused his eyes to narrow a little. "Yeah you did, with that dumb face," he countered. "Listen, I promise that whatever it is, I won't judge!" You were begging at this point, and he found that adorable.

He thought about your words, his lips pressing together as he contemplated. finally, he sighed and turned away, muttering, "It's cause you were doin' the dishes..." The dishes? you always did the dishes. He could see your confusion on your face, so he was quick to explain.

"You just looked so damn cute, and it made me think about you... bein' my lil housewife..." he pressed his face into your neck, the last of his words being muffled. You knew he liked the domestic stuff, like when you cooked and cleaned, but you didn't know he liked it enough to put a baby in you. "But Kat, I'm basically already your housewife," you laughed, the heat of his face radiating against your skin.

"Well yeah, but not with kids." Don't get him wrong, he liked splitting the chores, and he was happy with you having your own job and money, but he also liked you doing household things. It wasn't about you doing the "womanly roles" either, and more about you just doing things at home. It was something he and only he got to see, something intimate, and he wanted more of it.

"I thought you said you didn't like kids," you pointed out, an amused tone in your voice. "It's different. Our kids will be the best kids." The idea made you a little giddy too, Katsuki playing with their kids, looking at them the way he looked at you, like they were the most important things in the whole wide world.

"Your offer still good," he asked, regaining his confidence as his voice lowered a little. "What offer," you asked as he pulled back from your neck and smirked mischievously at you. "To make 'em right now," he chuckled, watching as your eyes widened and your lips curved into a nervous smile. "what? Gotta get started as soon as possible, right?"

______________________________________________________________

Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, I just love the domestic crap, I live for it lol.

#katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugou katsuki #fanfic #anime #mha bakugou #mha fluff #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #bakugo katsuki #my hero academia #new to tumblr #new writers on tumblr #new writeblr

[luvfy0dor]

Omg can I request like a teen reader reaction to fyodors death and how it would play out if they randomly saw dazai in the street after the whole thing?

“You're Not Gone, You Can't Be Gone, No ♡⁠˖” Dad!Fyodor w/ Child!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; MASSIVE BSD spoilers, death, 5 stages of grief, 1 mention of kidnapping (doesn't happen), cursing

Description; You feel as though you'll never recover from your father's death, especially since he had recently promised that he would be home soon via the vampires. Seeing his rival and murderer in the streets afterwards doesn't help either, even if you've started to come to terms.

A/n; I genuinely don't believe he's dead, there is absolutely NO way. There is nothing that could convince me he's actually dead, not a corpse, not a tombstone, idc, he's alive and Nikolais ability saved him, source: trust me bro

When you had first received word about your father dying from Nikolai, you felt like you were going to die along with him. Your heart had been cracking up with anxiety when he seemingly took his sweet time to return home, and it shattered when you heard. Everything was going as planned up until the very end, when you waited day in and day out for your dad, and he never came back and never would. You were in denial for a while, but it slowly sank in when Nikolai had taken you to live with him. He wasn't around constantly, usually out figuring out what to do with himself, but he watched over you. You loved Nikolai, he was like an uncle to you, but he just wasn't Fyodor. You almost hated yourself for the way your voice became laced with venom and loathing any time he tried to do anything remotely fatherly for you, but you couldn't help it for the first two months. It was too painful to evoke memories of your dad, so you just angrily pushed any reminders away. That being said, you refused to get rid of any of his belongings. His ushanka lived on your nightstand and his cape on a hook on your door, and if you had rejected religion before, you started to embrace it to try and bring yourself closer to him, even in the afterlife.

After experiencing the denial, anger, bargaining and depression, the acceptance came. The thought of him still hurt you, but you were able to go on with your day without feeling paralyzed by your devastation. You didn't mind Nikolai doing fatherly things for you anymore. You didn't decline his offers to play card games or chess anymore. Chess was harder to come around to than card games were, but nonetheless you did it. It honestly felt victorious. You were able to look at the urn that held the ashes from Fyodors arm without wanting to throw up and instead smiled and spoke mindlessly to it about your day, even if you felt a little silly doing it. It helped you cope with the loss of the most important figure in your life, so you didn't see a reason to stop.

A couple months after his death, you spoke to the urn while you got ready for the day. You wanted to go to a bookstore a couple blocks away, so you decided to get up and walk there. You grabbed your belt and shoved it through the loopholes of your pants roughly. "My favorite author put out a new book recently and I wanna go get it today. Maybe afterwards I'll go to the cafe nearby, thoughts?" You asked the urn, receiving a deafening silence. "Great, I'll be sure to follow your advice." You huffed. After putting on and tying your shoes, you grabbed the tote bag that was hanging of your door handle and slung it over your shoulder, exiting your bedroom. You walked through the hall and out the front door having found the house vacant of Nikolai. The sun was shining today, a nice contrast to the previous days rainy weather. Your feet hitting the pavement underneath you made a quiet tapping sound as you walked along the sidewalk towards the book shop. You listened to music through your headphones for the duration of your walk and took in the sights of the city, the tall buildings towering over the streets and casting dark shadows into the alleyways between them.

You quickly arrived at the book store and took off your headphones to hear the cashier better when you checked out. The nice lady handed you your change and sent you on your way. Walking out, you peered into your bag with excitement before you hear a young man yell out. "Dazai- where'd you go? Don't tell me you're in the river again!" You almost froze in your tracks when you heard that. Dazai as in your father's rival, Dazai? It couldn't be. You peered through the people weaving in between eachother and heard another voice reply. "I'm right here Atsushi, jeez, do you trust me that little?" He sounded unserious. Your eyes landed on them, the tall man with overgrown brown hair immediately caught your attention and you could feel fear flood your spirit. Your first thought was the question of whether or not he would realize you were Fyodors child and attempt to kill you, or make you his new rival. Him and the white haired boy he had with him turned towards you and started walking down the sidewalk. Dazai noticed your staring and raised an eyebrow, his slender, bandaged hands shoved in his pockets.

"Are you alright? You've got a thousand yard stare on your face there, kid." He says. You bit your lip and felt your whole body tense as you shook your head 'no'. "You...uhm, I know you." You mutter, backing up a little bit. "Atsushi? Or me? I don't think I recall ever meeting you. Atsushi, was this one of your little orphan friends?" He turns to Atsushi. "You killed my-" Your breath hitches when you realize you were going to make yourself vulnerable to your most current fear of rivalry with this man, but you can't stop your words flowed out of your mouth like a waterfall. "You killed my father." Your voice shook and you held your bag of more books than you had originally came for close to your chest. Dazais raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

You swallowed hard and parted your lips, the words caught in your throat for a second. "Fyodor." His eyes widen again. "Huh...I never took him for a family man. Well, I can't really give you a truthful 'im sorry' because I'm not, but I hope you can overcome your grief. It sucks to lose people you love." He says, his tone seemingly sympathetic, but that only made you angrier. "You didn't have to kill him, though! You could have done anything else- amputate an arm, kidnap him, anything that would have left him alive!" You say, your eyes tearing up. He only signed and stated at you, adjusting the hem of his vest. "What's done is done, it's not like I can resurrect him. One day you'll understand that it needed to be done." He walked away and you couldn't help but feel the anger bubble up inside you. You weren't gonna let that slide. You clenched your fists around the bags handles and swung it up, hitting him right in the back of the head angrily. He let out a quiet "oomph" and rubbed the back of his head. You didn't turn around to see the rest of his reaction, instead bolting away.

You heard your heart beat in your ears, but you couldn't be bothered to stop until you got home. You unlocked the door and swung it open before pulling it shut with just as much force. Your energy was all directly fueled by your anger towards Dazai, you genuinely had no idea how he could be so inconsiderate towards a teenager who had lost their parental figure. You huffed and collapsed on the couch, the adrenaline and energy seemingly fading away instantaneously. You discarded your books on the small table and sniffled, curling your limbs into your body. "It's fine, he's just an ignorant, awful, dick." You mumble, wiping your stray tears away. "All that matters is that I know he didn't deserve to die.." you mumbled and felt your exhaustion catch up to you as you drifted into a sleep filled with dreams of reuniting with your father.

#bungo stray dogs #bungō stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd fanfic #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x you #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x you #fyodor bungou stray dogs #fyodor bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor x reader #fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #bsd fyodor dostoevsky #bsd dostoevsky #dostoevksy #teen reader #fanfic #fanfiction #fyodor x you #dad!fyodor #bsd spoilers

[galaxymagitech]

Call This My Funeral

For Dick Grayson Week, Day 1: Dick's Undervalued Competency

@dickgraysonweek

Summary: Sometimes, Dick remembers how it felt to kill the Joker and wishes that monster had stayed dead. After Blockbuster, he knows that his hands are already bloody. He should be brought to justice, and, well, he might as well go out with a bang.

Or: Dick breaks into Arkham to kill the Joker. He won't let anyone stop him—not some measly defense systems, not his baby brother, and not this mercenary who seems to be trying to break the Joker out.

Characters: Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Jason Todd, The Joker

Warnings: Borderline suicidal thoughts, murder, non-consensual drug use, very vague allusions to canon rape

Nightwing is dead.

It’s the truth of it, even if the world has yet to catch up. Nightwing is dead. He died the second that bullet entered Blockbuster’s skull and then he was buried on a rooftop in the rain.

It takes a while to come to terms with it. He thinks about trying to stop Deathstroke, but every time he stares at his Nightwing suit, he just…can’t. He killed a man. He killed a man. And maybe, if he stopped immediately afterwards, maybe he could have put the suit back on. But he had stayed Nightwing. He had fought villains with Tarantula and returned to Gotham and pretended, and then he’d gone undercover with the mob. And somewhere along the line, the illusion broke, snapped, shattered into a million pieces that dug deep into his skin. When it came time to put on his suit, he couldn’t manage it. He stared at it. Ran his hand over the Kevlar. Held it up to the light, but all he could see was blood.

So he pulls out of the operation. It’s a slow process, and he ends up having to plant evidence and set Black Mask up, but he does it. It won’t hold for long, will only put Mask out of the running briefly. But it’s enough that Dick is able to leave without anyone the wiser.

Dick rents an apartment. His lease is for one month. He thinks about signing another lease at the end of the month and he feels sick. Nightwing is dead, and Dick Grayson is empty.

He should be in jail. If he was in jail, if he served his time…at least that would be justice. Even if Dick can’t take it back, at least that would be right. The proper consequences. But Amy wouldn’t allow him his atonement.

Dick runs that series of thoughts in his mind over and over again, as he lies in  and stares up at the moldy ceiling, listening to the sound of the rain outside. He wishes he could set things right. He should be in jail. He tried to put himself in jail, and it didn’t work.

He could frame himself. It’s not like it would be difficult. Dick is a murderer already; all he has to do is make sure others see his true face. Find a body someone dumped somewhere, make sure his fingerprints are on a conveniently-placed weapon with a record of his purchase, and then call 911 with a voice modulator describing himself as the attacker fleeing from the scene of the crime. There are more sophisticated methods, of course. Any would do.

But Bruce…Bruce wouldn’t accept it. Bruce would know that Dick wouldn’t just go out and kill someone randomly, even after Blockbuster. Bruce would at least know that Dick wouldn’t be that sloppy, if he did decide to commit murder. He’d find a way to prove Dick’s innocence.

So then how can Dick do it? How can he make the world see him for what he really is? How can he show them once and for all that Dick Grayson is dirty, despicable, poisonous?

Really, it’s a wonder he didn’t notice earlier how everyone in his life seems to suffer. He corrupts everyone around him. Hell, if he hadn’t left, Jason never would have died in his colors and Bruce never would have had to grieve his son. It’s a wonder he hasn’t managed to destroy Tim yet.

And Dick had known what he was capable of. He can still feel the sting on his knuckles as he beat the Joker again and again until the laugh was frozen on his face and his heart. Stopped.

Sometimes, Dick wishes that the Joker had stayed dead.

Of course, there’s something he could do about it.

Dick shudders, but he can’t push the thought out of his head. He’s a murderer. His soul is already dirty, his hands are already drenched in blood. Bats don’t kill, but he’s not a Bat, not anymore.

If there’s one last thing Dick does as a nominally free man, it can be this. He can put an end to all the suffering and pain the Joker has caused and bring himself to justice. Dick won’t pretend that it’s right. But he’s already wrong, and he can’t betray what he’s already broken.

Dick watches as his roof cries thick drops of acid rain and decides that the Joker will die.

---

The thing is, Dick knows he could get away with it. He’s been hunting criminals for almost two decades; he knows how to commit the perfect crime. He could hide the evidence, make sure the Joker’s body was never found, frame someone else, anything he wants. Bruce might be suspicious, but Dick thinks he wouldn’t be. And he certainly wouldn’t be able to prove it.

If Dick didn’t want to hide from Bruce, he could set up a situation where killing the Joker would be considered self-defense. Right place, right time, a registered firearm, and no jury in Gotham would convict him. He probably wouldn’t even be charged. He could go back to the Blüdhaven Police Department, draw the Joker there, and kill him in uniform. Amy would give him back his badge, if he tells her that he quit Nightwing—she already tried that with Blockbuster and he hadn’t even quit then. It would be easy enough to draw the Joker to Blüdhaven. Easy enough to find him on a raid. Internal affairs wouldn’t bat an eye.

Hell, if Dick promised to draw the Joker out of Gotham, Deathstroke would take care of him easily. He’d probably be thrilled that Dick is going down this path.

It would be so easy to get away with it.

But he won’t.

Dick Grayson will kill the Joker in cold blood. He will confess and take the first plea deal offered. And then he will go to Blackgate. He’s not stupid enough to think that he’ll survive there, as a former police officer and the former ward of Bruce Wayne. Justice will be served. Dick won’t poison anyone else, and the Joker won’t destroy his family again. A parting gift, if you will.

It takes Dick only a few days to plan the operation. Arkham has improved, but it still remains disturbingly reminiscent of a cardboard box, given how frequently its inmates escape.

Dick feels his stomach turn as he pulls out his suit. He feels like he swallowed something slimy, and it squirms around in his stomach. He doesn’t ever want to see this suit again. Just a little longer, he tells himself. He brings the suit to an abandoned warehouse, treats it with some chemicals, and burns it.

It should feel horrible. Dick created Nightwing. Nightwing is his. It should feel like burning a piece of himself.

Instead, it’s liberating. As Dick watches the flames eat away at Nightwing, all that’s there is relief. Dick hates it, with the blue bird spread across its chest like some sort of symbol. Like he’s worthy. He’s so glad it’s gone. Dick has never been anything close to worthy.

He returns to his apartment. The stairs creak on the way up. He eats his last can of soup cold. Dick drifts off to sleep and awakens with phantom gunfire ringing in his ears.

---

Everything is in order. Nightwing is gone, with no evidence left to trace Dick to the vigilante, and thus nothing to connect Bruce to Batman. Dick hasn’t had contact with Bruce for long enough that he doesn’t think Bruce will have to deal with anything more than a brief police interview. This will be on Dick, and Dick alone.

Dick needs to make sure that the way he breaks in doesn’t imply that he’s Bat-trained. He can get away with a reasonable display of skill, as a former BPD officer and a former world-class acrobat, but nothing that indicates access to other resources. 

Dick’s plan is divided into three segments: enter Arkham, reach the Joker, and kill the Joker.

Part One is relatively easy. Gotham city’s government is corrupt enough that it leaks like a colander, and it’s easy enough to find a full map of the sewers. If you know the right places to look, it doesn’t take any more than an SQL injection for login information, a homemade browser plugin, and a couple URL guesses. It’s an unnecessarily complicated method, too clunky for a Bat to ever consider, but Dick isn’t a Bat anymore.

He leaves the public library, resisting the urge to wave at the cameras, and takes the subway to the edge of central Gotham. Dick enters the sewers as close as he can get to Arkham Island. It smells absolutely foul, even with the cheap Wayne Enterprises rebreather he has over the bottom half of his face, but he’s smelled far worse than Gotham City’s waste.

Dick moves as quickly as possible, disabling all of the sensors that were marked in the sewer plans and checking for extras every few feet. It takes an hour, but he eventually reaches his destination. Dick takes the time to slowly disable the alarms on the manhole cover and climbs out under the grey sky.

From here, it gets more difficult. If Dick had his grappling gun, he could scale the building easily. Unfortunately, all he has is a regular gun. That’s why he disabled the alarms; he’s going to need time.

Arkham Asylum is old building, and the wear and tear on its stones is just enough to let Dick inch up its walls in one of the cameras’ few blind spots. It’s slow-going. If he falls, Dick knows that there will be nothing below to catch him, and he can’t die before he finishes this. Hand over hand, he balances on the tiniest of footholds. The wind whips at his hair and the cold bites at his ungloved fingers. He thinks it would have been easier to bribe a guard, but there was no guarantee they wouldn’t have just turned him in for a reward. He isn’t a Rogue. He isn’t frightening. No one knows how poisonous Dick Grayson truly is.

He doesn’t enter through the first window he reaches. Dick knows that he’s no match for bulletproof glass and steel bars. So he keeps climbing. Up, up, up. The grey sky grows darker and darker as night draws near. His fingers are turning numb. He climbs.

When Dick reaches the rooftop, he knows that he’ll register on the cameras. It’s unavoidable. But from here, he doesn’t need much in the way of time. He throws himself onto the roof and clocks the single guard in the face before she even has a chance to react. She falls unconscious and Dick catches her before she hits the rooftop. No need to cause further damage.

He takes her walkie-talkie, and reports that a figure in an orange jumpsuit was seen fleeing towards the bridge. There’s enough turnover at Arkham Asylum that no one questions the difference in voice. No one knows who’s supposed to be where, and that works well enough for Dick.

It’s easy to find the guard’s keycard and the small note tucked into her pocket with the code to the door. There are too many codes at Arkham for most people to memorize, and it’s been a safety consideration that Bruce has been working on. Apparently, he hasn’t found a solution yet.

Taking a deep breath, Dick enters the Asylum. He’s probably going to be noticed soon, even with the distraction, but he’s able to get into the elevator, swipe the keycard, and then override the protections to go straight to the maximum security ward. Dick clenches his fists and waits.

He expects to find guards when he steps out of the elevator. Instead, he finds Robin.

Dick freezes, watching as Tim’s face sets itself in determination. The kid has his bo staff extended, but he isn’t attacking, not yet. Just…ready to.

For the first time, it hits Dick that he’s not just betraying Bruce and Batman. He’s betraying everyone. Alfred. Tim. Even Jason, who had looked up to Dick in life. Is he going to make his little brother fight him?

If he has to. Dick needs to do this. He has known for a long, long time that someone has to kill the Joker, and it couldn’t be a Bat. He’s the only one with the skills and will who is already tainted. This is his duty.

The Joker won’t hurt anyone else. Dick may be betraying Tim, but only to keep him safe.

“Dick. You don’t want to do this,” Tim says slowly, as the two stare at each other.

“I do,” Dick says. Can he convince Tim to back down? Surely Tim, with his brilliant and practical brain, can understand why Dick has to stop the Joker.

“The cameras are off,” Tim pleads. “If you stop now, no one will ever know.”

Dick has avoided justice once. He won’t do it again. “Turn them back on,” he orders.

He watches as Tim’s grip tightens on his bo staff. “Bruce—”

“Don’t,” Dick hisses. “You have no idea what I’ve done. What I am.” He sighs. “I have to do this. Let me past, Tim.”

“I know you turned yourself in for Blockbuster’s murder.”

Dick nods tightly. “Then you know that I’m already a killer. Turn the cameras back on. When I’m done, Tim, you can arrest me yourself.”

“No,” Tim insists. “You didn’t kill Blockbuster. You didn’t shoot him.”

“Are you sure about that?” Dick asks, tilting his head. He draws his gun from inside his coat. The magazine is full. The safety is on, for now. He doesn’t point it at Tim—first rule of gun safety, don’t point the gun anywhere you don’t want to shoot—but it’s a demonstration. Dick is carrying a gun and has carried a gun for months, even if his fellow Bats have tried not to think too hard about it. Tim’s confidence in him is baseless.

“You didn’t kill Blockbuster,” Tim repeats.

Dick sighs, tucking the gun away. “I let him die. That’s close enough. Amy disagreed.”

“I disagree,” Tim says. “Bruce, too. Come on, Dick. Stop this and come home.”

Dick laughs. “I killed a man, Tim. I failed Bruce, do you really think I’d be welcome?” But even then— “Do you really think it matters?” Dick doesn’t want reassurances. Doesn’t want Bruce to accept him, because even if Bruce was willing to put aside his morals, Dick would still know what he is: rotten to his core. “This isn’t the first time I’ve killed someone, Timmy.”

Tim inhales sharply. “What.”

“You watched me,” Dick says. He lets his stance open. “I beat the Joker to death.”

“That doesn’t count,” Tim says, but he sounds uncertain. Dick feels his heart twist in his chest. He hates that he’s hurting his baby brother, but it’s better this way. It’s better that Tim realizes what Dick is before he can get poisoned too.

“I beat the Joker to death, and I was happy about it. Bruce made a mistake when he revived him. I’m just going to correct that mistake.”

Something flashes across Tim’s face. “This isn’t you, Dick.”

“This is me,” Dick says. “I killed the Joker, I killed Blockbuster, and now I’m going to make sure the Joker dies permanently.”

“You’re going to regret this. I can’t let you do something you’ll regret.” 

“You don’t have to let me,” Dick says gently.

“You won’t hurt me,” Tim insists. “And I’m not going to let you past.”

It’s true. Dick won’t hurt Tim, not really. But they both know that Dick can incapacitate him without doing any significant damage.

Tim’s face falls. “If you really think that letting Tarantula shoot Blockbuster makes you a murderer, how can you expect me to let you kill the Joker?”

It’s a good question. But the answer is easy. “Because I could have stopped her.” Dick takes a deep breath and forces his hands to unclench. He hadn’t even realized that they’d formed fists. Dick looks up and meets Tim’s eyes through the lenses of Robin’s mask. “But you can’t stop me.”

“I have to try,” Tim says.

Dick watches as his little brother finally moves his bo staff into a fighting position. He could stop here. He could accept Tim’s offer and go back to the Manor and see if Bruce would forgive him.

But he’s a murderer, twice over, and he’d always know that. And he knows that he can never be Nightwing again. There’s only one way left to atone.

“I know,” Dick whispers, and Tim launches forwards.

The fight is far more fierce than a spar, at least on Tim’s part. Tim is willing to do damage, anything to stop Dick from moving forwards. He thinks he’s saving Dick. And Dick, well, he appreciates it, but doesn’t Tim know that it’s already too late? Dick is a murderer. This is nothing new.

Meanwhile, Dick is trying to pull his punches. It’s not a fair fight, not in the slightest. But Dick has almost fifteen years of training on Tim, and while Dick is determined to win, he can tell that Tim’s heart isn’t in it. As much as the kid has the obligation to try and stop him, they both want the Joker dead. After all, if Tim really wanted to beat him, all he’d have to do is turn the cameras on, and Dick wouldn’t be able to plausibly beat Robin. But the cameras stay off.

Dick doesn’t call him out on it. Tim probably just hasn’t let himself think of it, and Dick will never give Tim the guilt of knowing that he could have won.

Dick dodges Tim’s first strike and dances around his second. He redirects the momentum of the third and tries to sweep Tim’s leg. Tim leaps out of the way. Dick ducks a blow to the head. Tim might not truly want to win, but the kid fights viciously. 

It’s difficult. Dick doesn’t have the time to just keep dodging, so he throws out a light punch. Tim twists away, but can’t avoid the kick that throws him sideways.

“So you’re serious about this?” Tim asks, panting. Tired, surprised, but not injured. The Robin uniform should’ve caught most of the force.

Dick still feels bad about it.

It’ll be better in the long run. The Joker will die. He will never kill another Robin, never tear another family apart. Tim will be so much safer. It doesn’t matter that he’ll never forgive Dick for this, because the Joker will never be able to hurt Robin again.

Tim throws out another strike with his bo staff. Dick catches it and rips it away, taking the kick to his stomach and letting himself fly backwards. He slams into the wall, and oh, that hurts. But it’s fine. Tim flies at him again, and Dick neatly sidesteps. With an elbow, he’s able to throw Tim off balance and catch him in a chokehold, wrapping his arm around Tim’s throat.

Tim tries to tuck his chin down, kick Dick in the shins, claw at Dick’s arm, but all it takes is a few seconds and he’s out like a light. The utility belts are keyed to their gloves, so Dick snatches one of Tim’s gauntlets and removes the handcuffs from his utility belt. He cuffs Tim, and then uses the zipties he brought for good measure. If Dick was being particularly careful, he would use a tranquilizer from the belt and lock Robin in a cell, but he’s absolutely not going to leave Tim in Arkham, unable to defend himself. This is supposed to keep Tim safe, not put him in more danger.

Dick waits a few more seconds and watches as Tim stirs. He can’t help the relief that washes through him when he knows for sure that Tim is okay, that he didn’t hurt him. Even through the mask, Dick can tell that Tim is glaring.

“You can get out of that,” Dick says quietly. “But I’ll have a head start. If you don’t want to watch me kill him, you should wait a couple minutes. I’ll stick around in the cell so you can arrest me. Now, how do I turn the cameras back on?”

Tim tilts his head to the side. His face shifts from annoyance to confusion. “Do you want to get caught?”

Obviously. Dick shrugs. “I’m breaking the law. I kill the Joker, and then I go to Blackgate. Seems like a fair trade, doesn’t it?”

Tim shakes his head. “Dick, you’re not thinking this through. You can’t be Nightwing from prison.”

It’s obviously a delay tactic while Tim works on the handcuffs and zip ties, but the statement is so out of place that Dick has to respond. Does Tim seriously think that Dick would go back to Nightwing after committing cold-blooded murder? “Tim,” Dick says. “I’m not ever going to be a vigilante again.”

“But you made Nightwing!”

Dick did make Nightwing, and he’ll regret it until the day he dies. “Nightwing is dead,” Dick says harshly.

Tim flinches. “Then what is this? What are you doing, Dick?”

Dick turns around and starts walking down the corridor. He doesn’t want Tim to see the way his face twists. “Call this my funeral.”

 ---

A minute later, Dick stands outside the Joker’s cell. He’s not going to be able to guess the twelve-digit code, even with a UV light, so he just takes his gun and slams it into the keypad. The thing cracks, but the door doesn’t open. Well, security did at least one thing right.

Dick pries the keypad away from the wall and takes a look at the wires behind it. He fiddles with it for a few minutes, recalling training sessions with Batman standing over him as a timer ticked the seconds by. Dick could do this in his sleep. He refuses to let his hands shake as he crosses the last pair of wires and the cell door slides open.

Dick takes a step in, only to find that someone else beat him there.

The Joker is lying on his cot in a white straightjacket, but standing over him is a figure in a black motorcycle jacket. When the figure turns around, the harsh florescent light reflects painfully off of his bright red helmet.

Dick runs through the list of known Gotham villains in his head before drawing a blank. His knowledge of skilled mercenaries that operate in the United States likewise doesn’t have a match. The only thing he can think of are the whispers he heard while working for Tommy Tevis. Rumors from Gotham occasionally make their way into Blüdhaven, and among them was the Red Hood.

Red Hood. Former alias of the Joker. Possibly a current up-and-coming drug lord, said to be operating out of Crime Alley. Or a really messed-up vigilante. Or a mercenary. Whatever he was, he had “rules” that no one was happy about. And he supposedly delivered a duffel bag of heads to someone, although no one can agree if it was to fellow drug lords, the Gotham Police Department, or Batman himself. Dick personally hadn’t believed that particular rumor.

Red helmet, operating in Gotham, standing in the Joker’s cell…and the clown’s still breathing. This is, without a doubt, the Red Hood. And it’s not easy to guess why the guy is here.

“What the fuck,” the Red Hood says. His voice is mechanical, leading Dick to guess that there’s a modulator hidden in his helmet. Dick can fight a random drug lord, but the Red Hood does not seem to be a random drug lord. And Dick is unequipped, unprepared, and still bruised from his fight with Tim. “What the fuck, what the literal fuck?”

Well, this is awkward. Right about now would be the perfect time to bury several bullets in the Joker’s brain. It is not a good time, on the other hand, to be fighting a Joker fanboy bent on breaking his idol out of Arkham Asylum.

“You here to stop me?” Hood asks.

Well. Dick may not be a vigilante anymore, but he is here to kill the Joker. And he supposes that is mutually exclusive with rescuing him, so…yeah. “Yep,” Dick says.

“Dressed like that?”

“Yes?” Dick’s wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, he doesn’t see why his clothes are a particular issue. The Red Hood presumably thinks he’s an off-duty guard who got called to deal with an alarm.

“Right then,” Hood says, amusement trickling into his tone, and before Dick can react, he leaps forwards.

Dick dodges his punch, just barely, and returns with a kick of his own. It sinks into some kind of body armor, and Dick narrows his eyes. The Red Hood, whoever he is, is well-funded. Another blow. This one strikes Dick in the face and he reels back. Hood’s punches are fast and hard, and it’s all Dick can do to avoid the next one.

The two dance. Dick is well-aware that they’re both on a time limit. If Hood gets caught, he can probably disappear. If Dick gets caught, he won’t have his chance to kill the Joker ever again.

Dick thinks he might be able to win this fight, but he doesn’t have the time. His fist glances off Hood’s helmet, so he changes tactics, launching himself through the air and sending a strong punch straight into Hood’s throat. It’s not what a Bat is supposed to do, it’s dangerous for the target, but right now, Dick can’t bring himself to care.

“Wow, Dickie,” Hood says, breathing ragged. “Didn’t know you had that in you.”

Wait. Dick isn’t actually that recognizable, despite Bruce Wayne’s fame. Why the hell does Hood know his name?

Dick doesn’t have time to worry about it, because Hood’s next kick comes out of nowhere and catches him in the stomach. Dick flies across the room, crashing into the wall.

The Joker cackles from his cot. “All this fighting over little old me?”

“Shut up,” Dick says, only to hear Hood’s mechanical voice snap in unison with him. He pulls himself up to a standing position. “Not a Joker fanboy then,” he observes, launching himself at Hood again. Why else would he be in the Joker’s cell, though? “Mercenary?” Dick had thought the crime lord story was more likely, but he supposes a mercenary is plausible. Though obviously not a very smart one, if he was making deals with the Joker.

Hood dodges his blow and throws a punch that glances off Dick’s cheek. Dick’s elbow catches him in the jaw—not that it seems to make a dent on his helmet—and Dick redirects Hood’s next punch and makes several successive blows towards the man’s gut. “He didn’t tell you, did he?” Hood asks. Dick gets the distinct impression that he’s missing some very vital information. “Did he?” Hood repeats. “Bruce didn’t tell you. Hah!”

A punch strikes Dick in the jaw and his head snaps to the side. Copper blood fills his mouth, but Dick’s up before Hood has a chance to press his advantage. He kicks out, catching one of Hood’s arms just as he misses a punch. There’s a distinct crack and Dick grins, blood dripping from his teeth.

“You’re good,” Hood says, launching himself forwards. “But I’m better.” In a single fluid motion, he hits Dick’s shoulder, knocks him off balance, and then presses him against the wall in a chokehold. Unlike the way Dick choked Tim earlier, this is an air choke. Painful. Painful, but slow. The Joker laughs, and this time, no one bothers to cut him off.

Dick slams a knee into Hood’s groin and then uses the wall to launch both feet into his chest, kicking him back. His throat aches. “No, you’re not.” The way Hood moved…Dick’s only seen that from one person before. “You’re League-trained, aren’t you?” If Hood is, then he likely already knows Dick’s identity. And he recognized Dick on sight, asked him if he’s really going to fight dressed like that, mentioned that there was something Bruce hadn’t told him…yeah, he definitely already knows.

“Maybe,” Hood says. He’s slower, now. From the way he’s moving, his arm is definitely at least fractured.

In the background, the Joker continues to laugh, reminding Dick why he’s here. Dick doesn’t need to win this fight. He just needs to complete his objective and render Hood’s null and void.

“You’ve thought of something, haven’t you?” Hood asks.

“Yeah,” Dick says. “I realized I’m going to win.” He flies forwards, pulling himself into a somersault and slamming both feet into Hood’s chest. The man flies backwards and Dick rolls away, pulls out his gun, and flicks the safety off.

“What—”

Dick practiced this in the police academy. He knows how to shoot a gun. He knows how to hit his target.

He forces his eyes to stay open as he aims the gun at the Joker’s forehead and pulls the trigger. A bullet flies through the Joker’s brain and he goes silent, his last laugh ringing in the air.

There are fifteen rounds in Dick’s pistol.

He shoots again and again and again, until every single bullet has buried itself in the Joker’s corpse.

And then he turns to face Hood and smiles.

Dick doesn’t know what happens now. Sooner or later, Tim will burst into the cell to arrest him, or the guards will come to do the same. But Hood—Hood wasn’t part of the plan. And he doesn’t know what the man will do next.

Hood stares at him, unmoving. Dick steps forward and presses two fingers to the Joker’s neck, checking for a pulse. There’s nothing.

The Joker is dead. Dick killed the Joker.

Dick killed the Joker.

Dick killed the Joker.

The last time he killed someone, he panicked. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t do anything.

This time, he just feels vaguely numb.

Hood pulls off one of his gloves and Dick watches as the man checks for the Joker’s pulse as well, before turning his helmet to face Dick. “He’s dead,” Hood says, shock audible even through the modulator.

Dick swallows. “Yes.”

Last time he killed someone, Tarantula was there. This time, it’s the Red Hood. At least the Red Hood isn’t his ally. At least the man will be more likely to want to kill him for ruining his payday than anything else.

“Yes,” Dick says. “I killed him. I killed the Joker.” He leans against the wall, lets his back slide down until he’s crumpled on the floor, his pistol hanging loosely from his hand.

“He’s dead,” Hood repeats. “What the fuck, Dick? I didn’t think you were even capable of this.”

Dick stares at the ground. “Do not,” he says, voice hard, “presume what I’m capable of.”

“Yeah,” Hood says slowly. “I’m getting that.

Dick looks up tiredly. “You should probably go. Your employer won’t pay you for breaking out a corpse.”

“My employer?” Hood echoes, as Robin bursts into the room.

Dick watches Tim freeze. Watches his face flicker as he takes in the Joker’s bullet-riddled corpse, Dick crumpled against the wall, and the random mercenary standing in the middle of the cell.

“Fuck,” Tim says. Dick thinks it’s the first time he’s heard his baby brother curse.

“Was the Pretender in on this too?” Hood asks.

Pretender? Hood has to be referring to Tim. “No,” Dick says. “No, Robin tried to stop me.” He hopes that will be enough that Hood won’t be upset at Tim for ruining whatever he was here for.

“Did he now?” Hood’s voice sounds dangerous. Tim looks—not scared, but determined in that desperate way Robin always does when facing a fight he knows he’s not going to win. Mouth set into a hard line, tension etched into every line of his body, stance defensive and far too steady.

And Dick may not be a vigilante anymore, he may be looking at a life sentence, but he’s not going to let anyone hurt Robin. “If you touch him,” Dick hisses at Hood, “I will end you.”

“Will you now?” Hood asks.

Dick stands up, bruised and battered but still a protective shield for his little brother. He gestures at the Joker’s corpse. “Yes,” he says resolutely. “I will. I will fight you, and I will win. Robin might be here to stop me from killing again, but I know better ways to make you wish you were never born. Are we clear?”

Hood holds up his hands. “Crystal.”

If Hood does try to get revenge, then Dick will defeat him, but it would be far easier if Hood just leaves now and Tim takes Dick to the nearest police station. The cameras are still off, so there isn’t much evidence, but… “You can take me to Gordan,” Dick tells Tim. “I’ll confess.”

“Fuck,” Tim repeats.

“You know it has to be like this,” Dick coaxes, holding out his wrists. “Just bring me in, and you won’t ever have to see me again. I killed him.”

“You better not,” Hood says. Dick’s not entirely clear on who he’s talking to.

Tim’s hands clench. He’s holding his bo staff aimlessly by his side.

“Robin…” Dick says softly.

Eventually, Tim sighs. “Fine. Put your hands behind—”

“Don’t you dare,” Hood interrupts.

Tim whirls around. “I’d like to hear any better ideas!” He snaps.

“Oh, I have several,” Hood says, voice dark. The underlying threat is clear.

“Trust me on this,” Tim says.

“That’s rich.”

Dick has no idea what’s going on. Robin and the Red Hood keep arguing, though it sounds more like bickering interwoven with some very creative threats. Do the two know each other or something? Is this like a Deathstroke situation?

His eyes keep flickering back to the Joker’s corpse. The blood is pooling over the cot, now, staining the thin sheets scarlet red and dripping onto the white floor.

“He won’t hurt you anymore,” Dick whispers. He doesn’t know who he’s talking to.

Tim’s hand fall on his shoulder and Dick can’t help but flinch. Tim withdraws, as if burnt.

Dick is making this easy for him. Tim doesn’t have to fight, doesn’t have to do anything except drop Dick off at the nearest police station. So why hasn’t he done it yet?

“Agreed,” Hood says roughly, and Dick looks up to where Tim and Hood seem to have reached some sort of consensus.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Tim shakes his head. He turns to Dick. “I may not have been able to stop you from killing the Joker, but I’m not going to let you get yourself killed over this.”

“Gotham doesn’t have the death penalty,” Dick says, even though that’s not really the point.

“And I’m supposed to trust you’d defend yourself from the other inmates?” Dick doesn’t answer. “Yeah. I thought so.” Tim leans forwards. “And you can hate me all I want, but I’m not sorry.”

“I don’t hate—” Dick feels something pierce his neck, and then cold liquid enters his bloodstream. He twists around to see Hood standing over him. “Tim?” He asks, voice shaking. “What’s—what’s going on?” Whatever he’s been injected with, it’s fast-acting. Dick can already feel himself starting to slip away. “No,” he hisses. “No, Tim, what—”

“It’ll be okay,” Tim says. “This was the fastest way. I’m sorry.”

Dick’s vision goes fuzzy and he stumbles away from Hood. The man lets him, and Dick nearly crashes into Tim. “Wait—” His lips move, but they feel like blubber. Everything is numb. Everything is spinning.

The world fades out.

---

Dick wakes up with a headache. Someone—multiple someones—are shouting with sharp, angry voices that pierce his skull. Dick groans.

What happened?

He remembers—

The wall, Robin, the Joker, Hood, no—

Dick struggles, heart racing as he tries to force his eyes open—

“Dick.” That’s Tim’s voice. Dick can see a very blurry Tim standing there, still dressed as Robin but without his mask, and. And someone else? Whoever they are, they move out of Dick’s vision before he can register them. “Dick, you need to calm down.”

“Where am I?” Dick asks, pulse thundering away, but it comes out more like “wh’re’m’i.” He knows he’s not in a jail cell, not where he belongs. His hand brushes against what feels like a couch cushion. Not the cot in his apartment. Not a motel bed. He blinks, and his vision clears, somewhat.

“You’re at a safehouse.”

“C’n’t be ‘ere,” Dick mutters. “B’m’n wou’n’t wan’…” Though, he realizes, Tim hadn’t said whose safehouse. If Tim hasn’t taken him to the police, then he probably hasn’t taken Dick to one of Batman’s safehouses either.

Where the hell is he?

“Wh’re ’m I?” His words are separating a little more. Dick blinks again, and Tim sharpens into focus.

“A safehouse,” Tim repeats.

Dick can feel his face scrunch up. He shifts, slowly moving to a seated position. He’s definitely on a couch. The grogginess is clearing rapidly—he must have been given an antidote to the sedative.

Tim kidnapped him. Why?

Wait, there was another voice. Tim and the Red Hood kidnapped him?

“Okay,” Tim says. “So. Hood’s going to come over here, and you need to…not freak out. We’re not dead.”

“We’re not dead,” Dick repeats, a bit lost.

“Yeah,” Tim says.

And then Hood enters his vision and, well, Dick understands why Tim felt the need to clarify that they’re all still alive.

Because that’s Jason.

“Little Wing?” Dick whispers.

Jason winces. “Yeah.”

“How long?” Dick’s eyes desperately scan over him, drinking in every detail. The white streak in his messy hair, the wrinkles in his shirt, the way his fingers tap at his thigh like they always did when he was nervous.

“Bruce has known he’s back for a few weeks, but he’s in denial,” Tim says.

“I had a plan,” Jason says. “I was going to…I was going to kill the Joker. I guess you beat me to it.”

#batman fanfiction #dick grayson #batman #dc comics #dcu #dc #batfamily #batfam #jason todd #tim drake #fanfiction #dick grayson fanfiction #dc fanfiction

[bbobpul]

stranded on the same ground — j. suh

NOTE. hey sorry for ghosting (again...) PAIRING. johnny suh x fem reader GENRE. hurt/comfort, angst SYNOPSIS. the entire process of getting over your ex, johnny suh (and meeting each other again) WARNINGS. profanity, mention of alcohol W/C. 4.8k

(⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ masterlist.

The morning of your breakup with your first-ever boyfriend isn’t as awful as you expected. Life went on like it usually does. Blinded by anger, you wished for your ex to have the most terrible, annoying, and awful day ahead and all the other days that followed. Call it childish, if you may. Call it a little bit immature when I say the two of you didn’t really end on bad terms. Your only worry after you parted ways was, ‘How could he fumble so badly? ’. You didn’t cry the morning after your breakup with Johnny Suh, but you did on a random Tuesday night when you saw the sticker he put on your tumbler. You cried again the following week when you found yourself walking on the same route you would always take with him on the way to the terminal when both of you had enough time before heading to work. 

It truly is the little details that bring you to tears. Not the broken promises and the plans you made together that you will never fulfill because you are used to those things, unfortunately, because you weren’t really that loved when you were younger, which is sad, and now that the only person that showed you affection is gone for the sole reason that ‘the two of you need more space to grow and move forward’. 

It’s all bullshit. And you hope he thinks the same. 

You hope he feels the same. You hope that every day he wakes up, he reaches his arm to the other side of the bed and realizes that you no longer lay beside him. You hope that every time he prepares the table, he gets two spoons and then realizes that he has to eat alone and not have anyone to talk about absurd things during breakfast, lunch, and dinner, which leaves him no choice but to watch stuff on his phone. On top of that, you wish that his WI-FI doesn’t work, so he will be bored to death.

You sat at the lonely six-seater dining table so early in the morning. It’s been three months since you broke up with Johnny, and really, you don’t feel anything right now other than the desire to make this day as productive as possible, and you seem to be on a really great start. 

You woke up at 5 a.m. in the morning to go on a morning jog, and when you reached your desired time, you decided to stop by the bakery to grab yourself some pandesal. When you got home, it was almost 7, and you decided to use your espresso machine that has been sitting in your kitchen, praying to be used. The fact that today was your first time using it was very evident because you had to get a chair to get it from the highest counter, and the box that it came in is now covered with dust. And then it hit you.

That coffee maker was a gift from Johnny. No, you’re not going to cry. You wouldn’t let that little piece of equipment ruin your day. Even if it was an anniversary gift. Even if you know damn well, he saved up most of his salary to buy you that. And now you’re on the verge of tears as you remember the fact that you didn’t even get to thank him properly because that was also the day you broke up with him.

And now! Another! Day! Ruined! Thanks, Johnny Suh.

In the end, you decided to drink instant coffee.

You heaved a sigh, trying to contain yourself. No! You wouldn’t let that happen. He should be the one crying over this espresso machine because it’s so expensive. Hell, he knows you don’t even drink coffee. He bought this for himself and gave it to you, and now he can’t even take it back because you are no longer together. Ha! Take that, Johnny Suh.

But then again, Johnny Suh is rich as hell so he won’t be crying over a gift for his ex.

Moving on (something you obviously can’t do), your work as an architectural designer starts at 9 a.m., and for some weird reason, you wanted to look your best when going to work. After all, you are going to meet tons of clients (and you are running for senior architect, so obviously you gotta do a bit of sucking up to your superiors because you! need! the! money!).

So with your desire to get promoted and get more money, you decided to go to work an hour early.

God forbid nothing cliche happens when you are at work, like meeting your ex and having him as your client, because if your memory doesn’t fail you, my goodness, Johnny Suh talked about wanting to have his own house by the end of this year!

“Architect, meet Sir Johnny Suh.” You are fucked. Seeing him again was one of the scenarios you made on your way to work today, and you blame your mind for being imaginative to the point of manifesting him right in front of you. 

“I’ll be assigning you this project because this is a great opportunity for you to grow and improve.” Sounds familiar. Maybe because that’s what you told Johnny when you broke up with him. “I believe you are responsible enough to lead your own team, and this is your chance to demonstrate your skills,” your superior told you. It wasn’t very clear on your end because your ex is just a few feet away from you.

“Thank you, ma’am. I will do my best,” was all you could say. Your boss then left you alone with... him.

You stood there in shock, but you tried your best not to express it with your face, mainly because you didn’t want him to think that he still had an effect on you. You didn’t want him to think that his showing up at your workplace so early in the morning three months after your break up still has an effect on you. 

You thank the universe that some of your colleagues are late because if they were here, they would make fun of you until the sun sets. After all, they were the ones you drank with until your heartaches ended.

You looked at him and saw him looking at the displays in your work. You realized that this was his first time here. Throughout the course of your 7-year relationship, he never insisted on visiting, or maybe you just didn’t let him.

‘He looks.. well.’ You thought to yourself, and you don’t know why there was a hint of disappointment laced in the crevices of your brain. Could it be because he looks like he is doing a lot better than you or because he looks like he is doing a lot better without you? 

There he is, still standing tall, and here you are with all of your fears coming back to your system. The fear that led you to end everything, despite everything being good, If the reason you gave him that night wasn’t really clear on his part, it wasn’t clear to you either. After all, your mind was clouded with your low self-esteem, but it was a lot more than that. It was too much for you to take, and you just didn’t want to burden him anymore. He has a book of plans, and yours was paper thin due to your uncertainties. But is that even important now that everything is done?

You cleared your throat in an attempt to get his attention. “Let’s head to the conference room.” Putting your ex aside, this is a great opportunity for you to get promoted. You haven’t seen the project proposed by your client, but this is your chance to get the salary you deserve and your own office. After countless nights of working overtime and overextending yourself, it will all soon be worth it. You hoped.

Johnny Suh won’t ruin this chance.

You didn’t let the awkward walk to the conference destroy the harmony and creativity you could offer for this project, and the moment you sat on one of the chairs in the conference room, you didn’t waste any second asking, “What are your goals and objectives for this project? ”

Your immediate question didn’t surprise Johnny. You are the type of person who is very driven. And he knows that. Very well.

“I would want a space that is aesthetically pleasing and functional.” His answer exuded a lot of professionalism. Something you hope he maintains until the end of this project.”

“And what is the budget for this project?”

“As long as we don’t exceed tens of millions, though I don’t mind not staying within the budget only if it is very essential for the house.”

‘Tens of millions. He really has a lot of money, huh? ’ You thought. You look at the mood board on the folder handed to you by your boss, and right there you understand why he needed that much money. It’s almost a mansion! 

‘Why does he need a house this big? ’ You asked yourself. Maybe it’s for his family. He always mentioned wanting to build a house for his mom and dad so they would live closer to them and not experience the hassle of buying expensive tickets and tiring flights.

After more questions, you almost forgot that you were working with your ex. Maybe you don’t really care anymore. Maybe you didn’t care that he was starting to turn one of his plans into reality. A house? Such a big step into your 30s. While you go home every day to a small apartment that has been opening its doors for your big problems, Maybe in those three months, he already found the path while you were still navigating the route towards it.

You looked at his back as he stepped out of the room. A view you are strangely familiar with. Even if the results of your decision still haven't caught up to your life, change is very different in Johnny Suh. Change looks good on him.

You let out a small laugh when you remember the number of times you wished the worst for him. Turns out he is doing a lot better now that you are gone from his life. Aside from that, he didn’t sound affected at all. It’s just you who is still stranded on the same ground.

But there is something you can’t deny. Not blinded by anger anymore. You are really proud of him.

After the meeting, you gathered your team. You hired an engineer and an assistant. You also consulted a group of construction workers willing to work on the project. It's the productive day you wished for.

As the day came to an end, you received a text message from him.

Please be at the groundbreaking ceremony. It’s nothing big but it would be nice to have you there.

The message read. As much as you didn’t want to go, he is still your client and you need to, for the harmony of the team.

I will be there. You typed on your phone as you waited for a cab to stop in front of you. This is the closure you needed. This is the closure you need to move on from your paper-thin plans and actually move forward with real, concrete plans. It doesn’t matter if you are navigating the route alone; as long as you know, when you walk towards the path you promised him, you will carry no regrets. You will know that it was for the better.

The 20 minutes you spent inside the taxi were more excruciating than that random Tuesday night when you first cried over the two of you. It’s bittersweet in the sense that you no longer feel angry about your own choices and feel sad because you have come to the realization that you no longer have the right to pry into his choices. He wants to build a house. Good for him. He specifically asked for you to design his house. Fucking great. It totally doesn’t feel like he is doing this to make you feel bad. But knowing Johnny, he is not the type of person to hold a grudge. If he loved you in the past, then he has no reason to hate you in the future, despite not being a part of it anymore. 

And the day of the groundbreaking ceremony came quickly. You wore your best clothes to look as presentable as possible, and as expected, the moment you stepped foot onto the site, the cool breeze was the first one to welcome you. The 500-square-meter lot was surrounded by trees inside a gated community. It's a very secluded area. You wouldn't expect this to be in the middle of the city. The walls and trees hovering over the houses are enough to muffle the noises from the highway.

"Hey there, it's good to see you," Johnny greeted you warmly, his smile stretching wide across his face. You reciprocated with an equally warm smile. Despite only seven simple words passing between you, the air seemed to thicken with emotions, leaving you momentarily breathless. Johnny's presence was striking, a stark contrast to the person you had parted ways with three months prior. 

"Ah, well, I couldn't possibly leave a client hanging," you replied with a light chuckle, trying to shake off the sudden intensity of the moment. You blamed your tardiness on traffic, a common excuse but one that felt feeble in this instance.

Johnny's laugh was soft and understanding. "No worries, I completely understand," he reassured you.

The exchange hung in the air, followed by a brief but poignant silence. It was as though the unspoken weight of the time apart and the changes that had occurred in both of your lives weighed heavily in the space between you, mingling with the anticipation of what was to come.

"Hey, are you feeling hungry at all? There's a sandwich over there if you're in the mood. Oh, and by the way, Engineer Lee is currently in the tent."

“Not really,  I will just take a look around the lot. Thanks”

The ceremony started earlier than originally planned. You stood at the back with your friend Ten, who is also the engineer you hired for this project. You watched Johnny with his parents, holding a golden shovel, marking the ground as the start of the construction process. Materials are all set, and the design is already settled. The workers will be present on the site tomorrow, and they will start working on the foundation of the house. 

You let out a sigh of relief when Johnny’s parents didn’t notice you at the ceremony. Maybe it’s because of the new haircut, or you really just didn’t want to be seen. But that really is inevitable when Johnny and his family are inviting the entire team for dinner at their house. And Ten has been pushing you to at least say hi to them. After all, the family didn’t do anything wrong to you.

“Just go to them and say hi!” He said as he slightly pushed you towards them. Your eyes were glued to the family. They were laughing, and his mother looked very happy as she fixed her son’s hair. You are used to seeing them like this. They were like your second parents at the end of the day.

You mustered your courage and walked towards them. You don’t know why you are so nervous about greeting them when they’ve only given you nothing but love.

“Hi, auntie, uncle.” You greeted them with a genuine smile plastered on your face. They turned to look at you in surprise.

“Oh my goodness, honey. You didn’t tell me that the best architect in town will be in charge of the house,” his mother said before engulfing you in a hug. You wrapped your arms around the older lady and laughed in response. You exchanged eye contact with his father before smiling and nodding at him, and after that, your gaze fell on Johnny, who was looking at the both of you with emotions whirling around his face—something you cannot quite paint. He was smiling, but his eyes looked very different. You brushed it off with the reason that you guys haven’t seen each other for months. What rights do you have to dictate the emotions in his eyes?

“How have you been, darling?” His mother asked you with so much gentleness laced in her voice. Her eyes scanned every part of your face.

“I am doing great, auntie. How are you?” 

“Well, I am really thrilled for our new house! And to have you design our home, ugh, it’s like a dream come true.” She said, and you gave her a small smile. “I saw how much you worked hard to get where you are right now, and I am so proud to see how far you’ve come.” She continued as you both slowly walked away from Johnny and her husband. 

You could only hum in response. Overwhelmed by the love and appreciation she is showering you with. You looked at your hand; she was squeezing so tightly, and you realized that the moment you lost Johnny, you also lost the mother who has showered you with love ever since.

"Listen, I know whatever happened between you and my son is no longer my place to pry into, but I just want to ask you to try and settle things. I understand he can be a bit stubborn, but if you two can't reconcile romantically, at least try to maintain a friendship," she said unexpectedly, catching you off guard with the sudden turn in conversation. You gazed at her, unsure of where she was leading with this.

"You're the one who understands him better than anyone else, who knows the deepest corners of his heart. It'll be difficult for him to find someone else like you," she continued, her words carrying a weight of sincerity as she held your gaze. "He loves you dearly, my dear."

"I loved him too, auntie. But sometimes parting ways is for the best. I hope you can understand that," you replied softly, feeling a mix of gratitude and sadness.

"You know I'll always understand," she reassured you, her tone gentle and understanding.

"Thank you for everything, and for trusting me with this house," you expressed your gratitude sincerely.

"Honey, trust me when I say it was all him. He trusted you with this house," she replied warmly.

Dinner with the future house owners came and went and now it was time for goodbyes. There wasn’t much talk while you were eating. You were just enjoying the switching conversations in your surroundings. You would answer when they asked you questions  but you don’t actively participate in the discussion.

"Thank you for dining with us, Engineer Lee, and honey," Mrs. Suh addressed both of you with a warm smile. "Thank you so much for coming."

"It's my absolute pleasure, auntie. Thank you so much for having me," you responded with genuine gratitude, your smile reflecting the warmth of the evening.

"I'll get going, ma'am, sir," Ten interjected, offering to drive you home. You glanced at him, mustering a condescending smile, and mouthed, 'I can handle myself.'

"You sure?" he persisted, concern evident in his voice.

"Yep, don't worry," you reassured him.

"Okay. Bye, everyone. Thank you so much for this amazing night," Ten bid farewell, expressing his gratitude to the gathered company before making his exit.

"Uh, I can drive you home," Johnny offered as Ten's car exited the gate.

"Oh, no, no nee—" you began to decline, but Mrs. Suh intervened.

"Yes! Yes, drive her home. You commute, right? You know it's dangerous for you to commute, especially late at night. So yeah, take her home, Johnny," she insisted, her concern for your safety overriding any objections you might have had.

You can never, and I mean never, decline any offer from Mrs. Suh. She has always been persistent, and that is one of her charms. Something Johnny didn’t get from his mom. You can never say no to her, not in the way that she will get mad or upset if you decline; she is just so good at it.

You took a deep breath and let out a smile, “Okay.”

And there you were, in your ex’s car, three months after your breakup.

It was like your throat was dry because of the coldness inside the car. You couldn’t bring yourself to utter a word, and the same thing goes for the man driving. The route to your apartment is something you have memorized so well, and now it is mixed with the familiar, clean scent of his car and the feeling of relief that you are going home with the person who was once the love of your life. It’s very familiar. 

Because it was all you lived for in those seven years.

You worked your best because the thought of going home with him and telling him about your day is what you lived for all those years. You worked your best because you wanted the best for the both of you without knowing it’s what would break the two of you. Maybe it was the overwhelming amount of socialization you did earlier, but now you could admit that you were insecure. You were insecure about him having so many plans and being so sure of his future with you while you worked tirelessly at a job you were not sure deserved you. You wanted the best for him, and you just didn’t have the capability to be the best for him. You wanted more for yourself because he made you feel small. Not intentionally on his side. You can now admit that it’s totally your problem. He never did anything wrong. You just think he is too good for you. And you wouldn’t let him have a future with someone like you. 

You wouldn’t want him to live in a future that is uncertain.

“Engineer Lee mentioned something about paint and tile picking tomorrow for the interior.” He took the upper hand and broke the silence. You looked at him and nodded your head.

“Yeah, uhm, you can tag along if you want.” You regret saying that. Why did you immediately assume he wanted to come with you? 

“I was going to ask about that. Okay, I will go tomorrow.” He responded, and then silence hit the both of you for the nth time. 

Friday, rush hour, everyone desperate to go home, and you were one of them.

You wish Johnny would just drive faster so he wouldn’t have to sit in the painful silence, but the traffic wouldn’t let him. 

You made a concerted effort to keep your gaze away from him, determined not to let your neck betray your curiosity. Despite your best efforts, fate seemed to have other plans, and against your will, your muscles betrayed you, turning your head to face him. To your surprise, you found him already looking at you, his gaze meeting yours in a brief moment before both of you looked away at the same time. 

You want him to ask if you are doing well. You want him to ask how you’ve been in those times you weren’t together. You want to see him desperately get to know you again in those times he missed your presence. You want him to ask, or at least say something. You want him to initiate a conversation. You want to know if he still cares about the choices you’ve been making. You want him to ask about the little things happening in your life, just like before.

But he didn’t.

Until you reached your building, he didn’t ask anything.

From days to weeks, until it became months of working together, nothing much happened. Totally not that closure your foolish ass expected. Honestly, why were you even expecting anything? Now that months have passed and it’s been a year since you ended everything, I don’t know why you are still expecting anything when you don’t even know what you want to happen.

Sure, he would casually talk to you when he’d drive to the site to visit. Sure, he would buy you breakfast or lunch, but you are not the only one. You are working for him, and he is paying you. He wants you to do a great job, and of course he would treat you well. Sure, he would still invite you to dinner with his family, but he would also invite Engineer Lee. 

On the other hand, Johnny has been making extra efforts to make you comfortable after that night. Not expecting anything in return, maybe his mother was right. A little effort will make a friendship between the two of you blossom. After all, it’s a very essential thing when you are working together. But he can’t help but notice that after that night on the road with you, you were being a little more cautious than usual. As if you were walking on eggshells around him. He understands that you feel sorry for what happened, but he isn’t the type of person to dwell in the past now that you are still here in the present.

You have been very ignorant of the fact that he is trying to mend things between the two of you, and now that the project has almost come to an end, with Johnny seeing you as oblivious to his efforts, maybe he should try a bit harder.

If only you knew. If only the both of you knew how much you hoped something would happen that night when he drove you home. If only one of you asked something. But let us not dwell on what could have been; you are here, and this is the last day of construction. They are only installing the lights outside and painting the exterior walls. 

Like many other nights before, no one took the initiative. As always. The two of you might be so used to it by now.

The housewarming event came up next, and both of you knew this was your last chance. This marks the end of the project and the opportunity to mend the broken hearts you left each other with.

After working hard for years, you finally got the promotion you wanted. You proved yourself with a project they assigned you, and he was somehow involved too. But all the credit goes to you. You worked really hard to find the best supplier and design the house they wanted.

You've accomplished the first and final wish you made for him. Now, you don't owe him anything anymore. You designed his first house and have become a better version of yourself in the process. Perhaps that was the closure you needed—not just with him, but with yourself too.

And you were fine with just that. You didn’t want to expect anything anymore.

You made sure to greet all the people you worked with throughout this project, and you didn’t forget to express your gratitude to the team that supported you and showed patience every step of the way.

As you socialize with more people, Johnny, who has been observing you the entire time, has a genuine smile on his face. ‘Change looks good on you,’ he said to himself. He can’t help but be proud. He doesn't have any reason not to. You look the happiest right now, and as someone who knows all your dreams, this is a check in the box among many others. 

He made the right decision by picking you as his architect. Other than being good at what you do, he saw this project as an opportunity for you to really get what you want, and the reason why you ended things with him was growth. He knows how much you need that push in your life. He knows how much you need something to happen in your life. Even if it means losing you. Even if it means not being with you every step of the way, He is happy for you and the change you made in that one year.

Amidst the bustling crowd, you locked eyes with him and offered a smile, prompting him to raise his champagne glass in acknowledgment. With purpose, you made your way through the gathering until you stood beside him on the balcony of the freshly constructed house, both admiring the view of the garden below.

For several moments, silence enveloped you both, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.

"Thank you for your brilliance, architect," he finally said, breaking the silence.

"It's my pleasure," you responded, the words carrying a sense of fulfillment.

"As an extra payment, can I take you out to lunch tomorrow?" His offer brimmed with confidence, breaking the quietude with a hint of anticipation.

“How could I ever say no to that, Mr. Suh? ”

#Spotify #johnny suh x reader #johnny suh x you #johnny suh imagines #johnny suh fluff #johnny suh angst #nct 127 x y/n #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 angst #nct 127 imagines #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct scenarios #johnny suh scenarios

[metalheads-trash-bin]

!! MORE NOTES FOR TROLLS FANFIC WRITERS!!

These consist of observations, facts, and headcanons :)

Volcano Rock City

Riff & rock trolls:

Breathy giggle, shy almost

At college for musical theory/art

Immune to lava - see it like hot water

Change in music doesnt change where they were raised w - (Pink heart, but diff style)

Volcano rock city arenas lava is now rainbow to show all genres

High fives show harmony and connection

Daycare in pop village - poppy teaches them the history of the whole world tour situation w barb as a guest

Riff uses air drums w drumsticks to dance w head bobbing when just chill dancing

Hard dancing is ofc what you think it is

Riff has three siblings, hes the favorite sibling since hes the baby. He spends time with his mom. He has two sisters and one brother. The brother is the eldest.

Food item: Fiber energy juice boxes

Barbs full name is Barbara

Creek notes:

Creek being creek “a little positivity would go well with that vest.”

Gets grabbed by chef

Chef forces creek into king gristles mouth

Creek figures out how to prevent himself being killed, calling out and gristle spitting him out. Creek begs for his life.

He strikes up a deal with chef. Through that hes taken out of the amulet for good.

Chef catches the snack pack, putting them back into the cage.

Chef pulls out creek, and they have the whole strangle moment.

Creek tells them he sold out everyone, showing no remorse so they dont try rescuing him. He even says to her theres no other “not him getting eaten” way, and chef agrees.

Instead of poppy focusing on the kingdom she becomes empathetic towards Bridget, turning back after being let go and helping her out. Poppy explains to the bergens that theres other ways to be happy. Then demonstrates that.

The bergens believe her, having a happy ending where they realize they dont need to eat trolls.

Chef gets rocketed out on a grill, creek in her fanny pack. She tries to eat him, the creature below them waking up. They get eaten by said monster.

“If poppy had only listened to you, if she took you seriously..if we all did. This would’ve never happened. If she just focused on the kingdom and not saving me, you all could’ve escaped and ran off. Finding a new haven. I know in the end it was a good plan..and lead to good things. But..she didn’t know that, no one did. You all almost died.”

“I’m sorry I never took you seriously, I’m..so sorry branch.”

Mount Rageous- rage dome

Bruce canonically listens to true crime podcasts

Jds canon in the sad book club

Floyd had a canon solo career

Mount rageous has an adult area called “the bowl” under the clouds

Floyd worked there doing modeling, playboy esque. Alongside singing solos in bdsm clubs

Teens found out eventually as gossip is.

Scarring under JDs gloved hand

Branch cracks under pressure after introducing floyd to creek, spiraling in front of poppy and sobbing to her about his feelings on everything. She panics and tries problem solving, branch snapping and then them walking away. They came back to eachother the next day, talking it out and deciding health wise its best to just be friends. They became platonic soulmates to eachother like riff and barb, the separation and experience of being together bringing them closer anyhow. Being in different levels of life just, cant work long term.

Creek says things like “Mother Destiny” or “Mother” as his connection to the earth.

John Dorys first thing when the gang separated was neverglade trail

Johns killed someone, he followed them on a hike and tried bashing their head with a rock. The person had a self defense pocket knife because of the wild animals. They slashed his left hand, john trying to push them off a cliff (waterfall cliff). Person grips onto his jacket, pleading for their life and how they dont understand what they did to deserve this, hanging off the cliff only not falling because hes gripping onto johns jacket. Johns gripping the ground, reaching for a rock and smashing their eye until they let go. Person falls, not dying because the water wasnt shallow enough. He runs down with a hunting knife, stabbing the guy to death. This was his first kill, only doing it so he could eat as he was struggling.

Edit: BY EAT I MEAN GETTING MONEY AS HE WAS A HITMAN NOT A CANNIBAL AAAAGHHHHH

Doug is the lawyer jd’s acquainted with at the bowl since hes the only lawyer that handles other species disputes.

Jd loves fish, especially fish sandwiches.

Notes on trolls three and poppy:

poppy seems super pushy and non empathetic to branch, literally appearing as if she cant put herself in someone else’s shoes.

2. She consistently tests his comfort and boundaries. Even being manipulative in some instances to get him to do what she wants.

3: it seems like she was more interested in investing in JD and the mission because they’re BroZone, not because she cared about branch or his trauma.

4. Yes at sometimes she comforted him and convinced him to continue with the mission, but that doesn’t make up for her lack of empathy simply because she shows sympathy.

5. I understand being a huge fan of BroZone, but some of her behaviors absolutely cross the comfort of the members. JD kept the funderwears for memorabilia, not because of some scent thing. Yet poppy’s borderline lustful reaction implies she would’ve kept them for that reason.

6. Sometimes she still struggles to listen to him, projecting her familial issues onto him and saying how grateful he should be. She was so fixated on the facf she craves more from her family, that she couldn’t even fathom the fact someone wouldn’t like their family members or have a more complicated relationship.

These are all of course little things, but they can build up and they can cause long term built up issues. It’s saddening to see that even if they sorted out her not listening to him, she still has a lot she needs to fix. And Branch, especially after all of his trauma being forcibly resurfaced, most likely can’t handle all of her flaws she needs to work on.

These all were brought up to her when they separated, she didn’t react the best initially until a few days later when she finally gained some sort of empathy and guilt for her neglect towards my brother.

#trolls band together #trolls world tour #dreamworks trolls #trolls movie #trolls #barb and floyd being best buds #dw trolls #riff trolls #trolls 3 #trolls world #trolls fandom #my trolls headcanons some sad some random #trolls headcanons #headcanon #trolls3 #trolls dreamworks #brozone #branch trolls #trolls creek #creek trolls #trolls branch #trolls poppy #poppy trolls #trolls john dory #john dory trolls #trolls fanfiction #trolls fanfic #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #trolls jd

[melrosing]

how do you see an AU where Joanna survives and her relationships with her children?

been thinking about this ask whilst eating spaghetti

I think it's a mess with all three. first of all, supposing Joanna survives Tyrion's birth, she also survives to seal the deal with the Princess of Dorne in sending one of the twins off to Sunspear to be betrothed.

and whilst I kind of like 'jam growing up in Dorne' aus, I do think it would most likely be Cersei who gets shipped off. that's namely because in taking Cersei, the PoD reserves Elia for marriage to Rhaegar (I'm sure she was biding her time for that), and in the same fell swoop removes Cersei as her competition (Cers would probably have ranked quite highly before Tywin and Aerys' falling out).

obvs Joanna would be conscious of that calculation on the PoD's part, but 1) she may not necessarily have had the same ambitions for Cersei as Tywin did, and 2) at this particular point Joanna probably needs the betrothal of one of her children to a Martell more than PoD does; she wants the twins separated, but they're still very young at this stage so she would want them in safe hands - and she was once close to the PoD, possibly saw her as an elder sister/mentor figure of her own. so a Martell betrothal is the safest way she can do this, and Cersei would be the one the PoD would offer to take I reckon

so Cersei is forced out of her home at a young age, and I think that could be pretty interesting in terms of Tywin and Joanna's marriage for one thing. like, I assume Tywin would resent two women going behind his back to betrothe his daughter when he expressly had plans to give her to Rhaegar. is he able to put a stop to it?? I think Joanna would insist on it, but that would cause a bit of a rift because Joanna isn't explaining WHY and maybe it's the first time he feels she's crossed a line in her role as his wife.

I ALSO think that if Joanna were to survive Tyrion's birth, some part of Tywin would blame his son's disability on Joanna. in killing Jo, Tyrion martyrs her, but if she survived then it's like she's somehow responsible in Tywin's fucked up mind. bc I don't think he could fathom having had anything to do with his son's conception himself if the son wasn't what he'd wanted. so generally yes I see their relationship being worse and probably more distant with fewer visits from KL.

ANYWAY I digress but thinking about where this situ leaves Joanna and her relationship w her kids!!

JAIME starting with Jaime cos I think this would, relatively speaking, be the most straightforward. I think of the Lannister siblings, all the key Lannisters generally find Jaime the easiest to love and I don't think Joanna would be an exception. I think she's absolutely the kind of mother who would love her sons better, because as a woman she doesn't take such a complicated and visceral view of them as she does her daughter.

HOWEVER she would of course recall what happened between Jaime and Cersei. and I think she would low-key blame Cersei. I think Cersei, whilst charming in her own way, was no doubt a kid who could be angry and sour and difficult to handle, whilst Jaime sounds comparably quite affable and easygoing. so the first fucked up thing Cersei and Joanna's relationship is that Jo decides Cersei is the one who came up with the 'game' so that she can mentally forgive Jaime, because it's easier than reckoning with her son being less than perfect.

and I think the result with Jaime is that he resents Joanna deeply for sending Cersei away, and he dislikes that she keeps trying to acquit him of what they were both doing, and consequently distances himself from her. I imagine them as close before that, so this hits Joanna hard and she turns that resentment on Cers, again making their relationship worse.

possibly the relationship between them heals a little as Jaime grows matures and maybe realises how upset Joanna must have been at the time, but I think he is always angry for what she did to Cersei and doesn't forgive her that.

CERSEI I imagine Cersei stays in Dorne till she's maybe 12-13, and then maybe is made lady in waiting to Elia in King's Landing. and I think she spends the whole time hating Joanna. like I kind of doubt that Oberyn and Cersei would like each other much, and Cersei would always remember she was supposed to be Rhaegar's Queen, and Dorne sucks etc and where's Jaime, and also just like imagine how traumatic to be seven and sent away to some strange place for doing something you didn't even really understand was wrong. of course she'd hate Joanna

I think she only comes home to the Rock intermittently from Dorne, and Joanna is subtly antagonistic to her every time in case Cersei 'corrupts' her son again + Cersei is probably antagonistic in return because Joanna is the one who ruined everything, so it's all fucked. Joanna probably still tries to temper her daughter into the lady she thinks she should be, and Cersei is just not having it. it's awful

TYRION I feel like there's two Schools of Thought (lmao) on how Joanna and Tyrion's relationship would be: one where Joanna dislikes her son but is just more tactful about it than Tywin, and one where they're actually close and Joanna fancies him a bit of a mini-me.

I think it could be BOTH. I think Joanna, who no doubt cares a great deal about her public image and is still v much a Lannister who somehow had it in her to love a man like Tywin (to whatever degree she did), would be disturbed at having birthed a disabled child and would never quite shake that. it would haunt her forever.

BUT Tyrion is smart and funny and desperately wants to love her and be loved by her, and I think she would respond to that with a love of her own. I think she'd try to raise him up beyond what everyone else thought of him, and there'd be a lot of whispering in one another's ears. but she can't raise him up beyond what she, deep down, thinks of him, and that's a bitter truth in their relationship all Tyrion's life. I think she punishes him more harshly than she would Jaime, and is less willing to tolerate any shortcoming in Tyrion - he has to be better in every sense he can be. so there are darker periods in their relationship with Joanna is crueler to Tyrion, and it utterly fucks with his head because he knows how warm she can be when she chooses to be and he doesn't know how to win her love back, it's just like one day she warms again and things are nice once more but he always fears her turning cold again

and I think a big part of this is Tywin blaming Joanna for Tyrion - I think she'd find that hideously unfair, but perhaps also believe it a little.

ANYWAY long post and this is a huge amount of conjecture but long story short I think Joanna is fucked too

#ask #asoiaf #joanna lannister #cersei lannister #jaime lannister #tyrion lannister #long post

[nordickies]

I'm curious, how do you view Åland in your head? Are they Sweden and Finland's kid or something else? How about Faroe, what is their relationship to Denmark? Or Greenland (I know for a fact that Greenland's relationship with Denmark isn't good)

Sorry for the long ask ;w;

Hello anon! It's not a long question! I just don't really know how to introduce these guys, so let's start with an oversimplified relationship chart, I guess?

Quick explanation under the cut. I don't know why it is so scary to talk about my OCs publicly, aah

Åland isn't Sweden and Finland's kid, but she's significantly younger than them, and they did end up practically raising her together. I've been going back and forth on whether I want her to be their "kid" or not - but in the end, I decided to apply the same logic I use with Denmark and Iceland; it's some kind of guardianship.

To me, guardianship means person X is looking after person Y and being responsible for their upbringing. In these instances, we're talking about significantly younger Nations that have been juveniles for most of their lifetime; someone has needed to take the custodian responsibility over them. But because the relationship can be interpreted as parental or siblinglike (with a significant age gap), I just prefer to use the term "guardian."

Faroe, just like Iceland, was raised by Denmark. Except unlucky for him, he's still stuck with the old man. Faroe just tends to get forgotten a lot. He's a friendly young gentleman, the "easy" child in a messy household, if you will. Though he wishes he made more of a noise about himself - to remind everyone that he exists and show that he's indeed an individual. Well, at least he has Åland to keep him company, since they're both doomed to sit at the "kids' table" during family gatherings. And yes, they're the same age as Iceland

While Denmark has been Greenland's "guardian" on paper, they never developed that kind of relationship. She doesn't feel particularly close to him and for various reasons, she never adjusted to her "adoptive" family. The relationship is rough but they still try to make it work somehow. Nowadays, she's happier with home rule, slowly making her way toward potential full independence. Greenland, Kalaallit Nunaat, has been inhabited by indigenous people for thousands of years. But this isn't the same Greenland that would have been around during the Viking Age. I'm just basing that on the fact that the ancestors of the modern people of Greenland, the Inuit, came to the island from the east in the 13th century, referred to as the Thule culture, which replaced the former Dorset/Tuniit culture.

Sápmi is the oldest Nation of the bunch by a long margin. Because of this, she has acted as a mentor figure to the Fennoscandians in their youth and is often referred to as their "aunt." Sápmi's relationship with her neighbors has been extremely turbulent. But still, she remembers them as hopeless little kids getting lost in the wilderness, whom she taught survival skills. She sees them as her unruly boys but feels especially bad that Finland had to grow up so soon. She still finds herself scolding Sweden, who to this day acts like a little kid around her. Norway views her in high regard, someone he goes to with his worries and feelings. She's a nation with no state, but tries her best to represent her people and culture to the world.

Karelia is an older Nation as well, perhaps older than the Scandinavians. Karelia is a Baltic-Finnic nation extending from Lake Ladoga to the White Sea. She has longtime connections with Finland, Sweden, Estonia, Ingria, Sápmi, Russia, and Ukraine. But she has always been a nation between East and West, being literally split between them even to this day. Karelia's borders have changed constantly throughout history, making the region extremely diverse. Because of this, and her people being broken apart multiple times in recent memory, her identity feels a bit shattered. Yet it's incredibly strong, with colorful culture, traditions, and language - being unique from the other Finnic groups.

I personally think that Nations and their relationships with each other don't have to be 1-1 adaptations to their real-life counterparts, where every single historical event plays out exactly like in a textbook. History, culture, politics, and, most importantly, people's personal experiences and relationships with their country will always be individual even to people from the same group. But we also shouldn't completely ignore and sugarcoat history, thus downplaying or, in the worst case, contributing to the ongoing harm. So, as rich as the source to create OCs is in this fandom, it's also an endless loophole with no clear answer to anything. But as long as we're ready to be respectful, be willing to learn, and keep an open mind, I don't see a problem with it <3

#i'm bad at explaining but hopefully my idea comes across #also perhaps this explains why i don't feel particularly strongly about shipping the nordics with each other - there is a lot going on #oc talk #hws faroe islands #hws åland #hws greenland #hws sápmi #hws karelia

[crabonfire]

TSSM DOC OCK WITH TALL (average) S/O WHO USES HEIGHT ADVANTAGE TO FLUSTER!!

Pre and post octofication? If possible?

I wanted to request but didn’t get the confidence until you started demanding TSSM requests :)

Hope this is ok!

OH LETS FUCKING GOOOO TSSM REQUEST BABEYYY

Taller!S/O flustering TSSM Doc Ock!

character: pre and post accident TSSM Otto Octavius

note: babe don’t be nervous!! I’ve been into spider-man and tssm related shit for years now, I just never thought anybody would be interested in my work. I’d love more tssm requests!! It’s my main interest now anyways :)

anyway, request away!!! hehe :)

ALSO I love pre accident otto he’s so cute :(

last note, I wanted to add some uh, tiny, tiny TINY bits of lore between the two of you in the pre octofication, just to make it more interesting :D!

warnings: none, fluff :)

♡Otto Octavius♡

- He was always a pretty insecure man in terms of how he’d look, (and his personality too aw man) he always saw his body as something he wasn’t proud of. People under minded him for it, especially at work. Which is why he was surprised to find out you really liked him. When you had asked him out he asked multiple times with a red face, “Y-You’re joking!” or “Did someone put you up to this?”

But when you smiled at him so genuinely, shaking your head no and telling him you liked him…he felt like he was going to burst.

- When you two started dating, he found it a bit hard to make eye contact for very long. For he found that he’d get lost in your eyes, mesmerized by you completely. He was a shy man, and he never spoke his mind much when it came to how you made him feel. He was always quite flustered with you.

When you realized this, you started to use it to your advantage.

- On one occasion, he was in his office, typing away and sorting through files on his latest project. After hours of working he had finally stepped out to get a drink from the kitchen. You decided to try and stall him a little, maybe convince him to take a break. You had him backed up to a wall, hand resting beside his head, as you leaned down to his face. His cheeks are as red as tomatoes, looking at you mouth agape and eyes widened. You can’t help the smirk that forms on your face, eyes gazing at him intensely.

“Otto.”

“Y-Yes?”

You tilted your head a bit, blinking, still staring at him. The tension is killing him, your so close he can feel you breathing.

“Take a break hon, you’ve been cooped up in that desk for so long…”

He huffed, looking awkwardly at the floor. “Oh, I mustn’t…it’s I-important I finish this..” you took your hand, taking his chin to face you again. You frowned slightly, “But I miss you. Just one break, please?” He blinks, his lips quivering trying to find the voice to deny you. He swallows, “W-Well…I guess one break w-wouldn’t hurt.” He mutters. You smile at him, leaning in to kiss him, which he immediately returns. When you pull back you can see the slightly disappointed look on his face. You quickly step back with a whole different mood, grinning at him. “Great! Come sit with me, I was watching a movie.” You walk over to the couch, leaving him speechless as his heart doesn’t stop its pounding.

He’s flustered, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he stands there wondering what the fuck just happened to him.

- He found himself in this situation many times, pinned to a wall or how your head rested on-top of his with arms wrapped around him, engulfing him in a hug.

And every single time he couldn’t help the red that’d seep to his cheeks, the racing of his heart and and the wanting to drop everything he was doing to look up at you all day.

Oh yeah, he has to look up when he talks to you. It’s adorable 😭

♡Doctor Octopus♡

- No longer has he have to suffer the neck pain of looking up at you, because now… HE HAS HIS OCTOPUS ARMS!!

- But on the rare occasion where he’s just standing like a normal guy, you always take your chance to try and fluster you like you did before. This time, he’s not so shy about his feelings.

- You’d have him pinned against a wall just like before, it was difficult to get into this position but you did.

“Hey doc.”

He smirks, “What’s this, Y/N?”

You mirror his smirk, “What ever do you mean, Doc? I’m just, having a conversation with you.”

He chuckles, shaking his head and looking up at you with tinted cheeks. “I see. My apologies, I just never considered being pinned to a wall was a way to talk to somebody.”

“Oh, so this your first time?” You snickered at your own dumb joke, he found that cute.

“No, I’m very well experienced actually.”

You laughed. You rested your other hand to the other side of his head, trapping him in as you leaned down to kiss him. He kissed you back, passionately and slow. One of his hands had cupped your cheek, the other firm against your chest as his receptors pulled you in. He felt himself melt whenever he’d kiss you, even with his newfound confidence he still never got rid of that sweet ache in his chest. When you pulled back, before you could say anything, he flipped you over.

Now you were the one pinned to he wall, his receptors lifted him slightly to be eye level with you, a hand over your head as he leaned while the other had held your chin pinched between his pointer index and his thumb. He had an obnoxious smile on his face when he saw how your face reddened, eyes wide in surprise. He chuckled, whispering in a low tone;

“What about you Y/N, is this yours?”

♡♡♡

spot the harness your hopes refrence and I'll give u a cookie :)♡

HOPE U ENJOYEDDD request more tssm shit I love them

#tssm #the spectacular spider man #tssm x reader #doc ock #otto octavius #tssm otto octavius #tssm doc ock #doctor Otto octavius #doc ock x reader #otto octavius x reader #tssm doc ock x reader #tssm Otto octavius x reader #spider man x reader #tssm requests open aheeemmmmm #gosh I love it when nerds are short and fat #I wanna kiss him so bad #and his tummy #oh god I love him #his cheeks must be so soft #oh my foficudududc #kiss me Otto #the tssm one #cause he’s the cutest there #I love men #I love nerds

[mousydentist]

For reverse trope prompts: I feel like fake amnesia could be super cracky and/ or angsty for kimchay post-breakup. Kim pretending to lose his memory to see if Chay will give him a second chance, OR to try to push Chay further away. Chay using fake amnesia to see how Kim reacts if he thinks Chay doesn't remember getting his heart broken. Or Chay doing it just to fuck with Kim's head for a few mins as payback lol.

ok tysm for the ask and sorry this took a while i probably shouldnt have opened asks right before a three hour exam hdjdjd BUT here it is and. this was hard to do in 500 words so i don’t know what this is dhjdhd but i hope you enjoy

It was around noon when Chay got a text from Porsche that had him sprinting for the elevator: You know Kinn’s brother Kim, right? He’s hurt pretty bad. Chay’d been pissed at Kim for a while, of course, but in the wake of it was the fear that he’d never find someone like Kim again, someone he really, really loved, and a desire not to be alone anymore. Truthfully, he’d nearly taken Kim back after he sent the song. At that moment, he’d seen his own loneliness reflected back at him, and his heart ached. But he’d stayed stubborn and refused to forgive Kim, or even acknowledge his existence. He’d tried to pretend he didn’t care for so long - and now, rushing through winding halls to the compound’s infirmary, all he could do was pray it wasn’t too late. Porsche was right, Kim was in bad shape. His unconscious body was connected to a dozen wires and monitors, and his head was covered in a large wrap that had been bled through.  Chay said nothing as he took a post next to Kinn, and in return, Kinn didn’t ask. They stayed vigil for several hours before Kim finally showed signs of life. Kinn immediately called for the doctor when Kim blinked his eyes open, glancing blearily around the room. When he locked onto Chay, his brows furrowed.  Chay stood close to him, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Hi.” The crease in his brow got larger. “Who…?” Chay’s heart skipped a beat, but he didn’t have time to investigate further before the doctor came back with Kinn and started a volley of questions at Kim. “And do you know who this is?” “My brother, Kinn.” “Great, and the other person?” Kim squinted at Chay’s face. “Am I supposed to know you?” Chay bit the inside of his cheek in an effort not to cry, or throw up, or something else that wouldn’t be helpful. “I’m Porchay.” Kim seemed to understand something then, and for a second Chay thought he might have remembered, but then he said, “Nice to meet you, Porchay.” Chay really did try to listen to the doctor when she pulled him and Kinn aside, but he only heard bits and pieces like “short-term amnesia” and “brain damage” and a bunch of other horrible things. He did hear when she said he’d need to stay under observation for the next few days, and decided maybe this was the universe’s way of telling him to start over with Kim. That night, Chay told Kinn to go sleep in his own bed, that he’d watch over Kim and let him know if anything happened. Chay could tell he needed it, especially when he watched how the man drag himself out of the room. Chay refilled Kim’s water and threw a pillow to one side of the loveseat he’d be sleeping on.  “Psst, psst.” Chay turned around, and sure enough, Kim was waving him over conspiratorially. “How was that?” “Uh…” “Do you think he bought it?” Kim whispered like he was sharing a secret. “What are you talking about?” Chay squinted at him. “Do you think Kinn believed that I didn’t know you?” “Wh- you remember me?” Chay screeched, only feeling half bad when Kim cringed in pain. “Kim, why on earth would I want you to pretend you didn’t know me? He knows we’ve met!” Kim shrugged as much as he seemed to be able to. "I asked if I was supposed to know you." Chay let his face fall into his hands as he flopped to the ground, all the stress and grief of the day finally leaving his body as he cried. “Sorry,” Kim muttered, and Chay just laughed. What the fuck was his life. He did stay with Kim that night, and he spent a lot of it on the floor next to him with Kim’s hand locked in his own.

[kim's texts] Kinn: Did you pretend to have amnesia so Porchay would forgive you? Me: excuse me Me: it’s not my fault he assumed i had amnesia Me: i was drugged and delirious i didn’t know what i was saying Kinn: Whatever you say

(from a reverse trope ask game)

#kimchay #kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #kim theerapanyakul #porchay kittsawasd #my fic

[youthinluv]

i know you

I'll quiet down if it's what you want I understand I'm not the only one For you I'm here regardless of the pain Don't ever tell me to go away From you

sypnosis ; following his childhood bestsfriend's heartbreak, he decides to take the risk and come clean to her. [bonus chapter of this oneshot]

pairing ; gyuvin x fem! reader

wc ; 2,395

genre ; angst, non-idol! & highschool! au

tags + warnings ; swearing, unrequited love, one-sided pining, hurt no comfort, mixed signals, love triangle (kinda), zb1 members featured, mainly in gyuvin's pov, gyuvin's jealous and insecure and probably maybe has an inferiority complex

playlist ; i know you - faye webster, she likes another boy - oscar lang,

author's note ; RAHHHH even more angst and love triangle !!! i kinda hate how this turned out tho LMAOOO

the story's title and how it's integrated into the plot is actually more subtle than i'd like but i really wanted to push through w the ideas i had i mind w/o changing the title even tho it came out mess in the end saur don't mind that pls tysm

———

Gyuvin has hated Ricky on three occasions.

Or that’s what he likes to think, at least. They were the only times he acknowledged those harsh feelings anyways.

It wasn’t a feeling that lingered anyways, he didn’t actually hate him, of course. If anything, they were on good terms. It’s one of those times where you feel hate towards someone in the spur of the moment because of a situation.

The first time was when he was alone in his dark room, the dim light coming from his PC screen illuminated his face as he watched himself die in game for the nth time again, resulting in their team’s loss.

He sighs, unable to focus on the game he was playing with Gunwook and Hanbin. Glancing at the time, he noticed that it was getting rather late and you haven’t sent him a message yet.

“Hey man, you okay?” Gunwook’s voice broke him from his train of thoughts as he realized he was zoning out, and that his friends had actually been trying to get his attention for the past few minutes now. “You’re acting differently today, is something wrong?” Hanbin adds.

“Yeah, just tired. And a little distracted, but I just don’t think I'm in my best condition right now.” he runs his hands over his face. Gunwook tells his friends that he’ll be leaving to do homework, and Gyuvin doesn’t miss the chance to call him a nerd. As he leaves the call, Hanbin takes this opportunity to talk to him with no filter.

“It’s about Ricky and Y/N, isn't it?”

“Was it that obvious?”

“If they knew the whole story, yeah.”

The call falls into silence as Gyuvin stares blankly at his PC screen. As he opens his mouth to say something, his phone suddenly rings.

After seeing the caller ID, he tells Hanbin he’ll be muting to answer a call and rushes to answer his phone.

“Y/N, hey! How’d the whole thing go? Did you profess your undying love for him yet? Did you two kiss? C’monn tell me!”

Gyuvin teases, trying to make sure it didn’t seem like he wasn’t about to die of worry over you earlier.

“Girl, shut up! I just got home, it went pretty well, but that’s not why I called. I actually wanted to ask you something.” you shush him.

Gyuvin gulps. “Uh– yeah, shoot.”

You seem to hesitate, and shifting could be heard from the other side of the line.

“Um, so Ricky told me that he, along with your entire friend group, thought we were dating? And he mentioned that you’d act weird whenever they’d try to talk to you about me.”

Gyuvin goes silent, and you take this as an opportunity to elaborate and ask him more questions.

“Are you… embarrassed of me? I’m not mad, don’t worry! If anything it’s kind of understandable so—”

“No, no!” Gyuvin sputters. “That’s not it, I swear. I just don’t want them annoying you if they actually knew who you were. The last thing I’d want is them making you uncomfortable.”

“...Oh. Uh, yeah, that makes sense. Sorry, I’m a little tired so I’ll go now. I’ll see you and let you in on what happened.” you nod, giggling at the last part which somewhat put Gyuvin at ease. The call ends and he could’ve sworn he almost collapsed back in his seat.

“Everything alright?” Hanbin asks as soon as he heard that Gyuvin turned his mic back on.

“Fucking Ricky!” Gyuvin couldn’t help but curse, frustration and rage slowly seeping in. “He told her some stuff about how I act whenever she gets brought up in the group and she thought I was embarrassed of her. She could’ve snuffed me out if she didn’t think that! Who does he think he is, causing misunderstandings like that?”

“Okay, okay, calm down. You and I both know he doesn’t think before speaking sometimes, he probably blurted it out without thinking about the consequences…” Hanbin tries to calm him down.

Gyuvin starts to be thankful that he came to Hanbin with this problem as he always relied on the elder, always having seen him like an older brother. 

Hanbin understands that this was much deeper than Y/N finding out about Gyuvin’s feelings.

It was about how he was always jealous of Ricky for having the things he wanted.

It was about how Ricky was so much more likable compared to him.

It was about how Ricky, in short, was perfect.

And it was especially about how Ricky was blind to not notice the girl pining over him. The same girl Gyuvin has been longing for the same way she does for Ricky.

The worst part was that it’s not his fault, and Gyuvin knew that well. 

Ricky had no control over those kinds of situations, he was just lucky enough to be born into a life where everything seemed to go his way. Even if it wasn't on purpose.

And Gyuvin knew that better than anyone else.

———

The second time was more of a buildup, in comparison to the first which was a burst.

But at the same time, he wouldn’t really consider it hate. Disdain felt more appropriate to describe it.

It started when Ricky and Y/N started to get closer, making them spend more time together, and less time individually with him.

It progressed even more the day that Gyuvin and Y/N spotted Ricky and Alexa together. 

While his best friend’s expression was unreadable, he could see that she felt uncomfortable and pained.

Why couldn’t he see that you liked him?

Over two weeks passed and Gyuvin found himself back in his room with you once again. 

“God knows what I should do! I feel like it’s too late for me to go back on what I’ve done since I’ve been ignoring them for days now and it’s a little embarrassing to talk to them out of nowhere.” you finish, taking a breath after the long rant you went on.

“Maybe it’s better for you to talk to Ricky and Ricky only. This way you can communicate, tell him everything and probably even confess to him. At the rate everything’s going, it’s now or never.” Gyuvin tells you, putting down his controller and watching you throw yourself on his bed face down.

After a brief silence, you mutter a muffled “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

Getting up and grabbing your phone, Gyuvin sits next to you and watches you look for Ricky’s contact.

“hey. it's been a while. is everything alright? you’ve been avoiding and ignoring me all of a sudden. please let me know if i did anything to offend you and i hope we can talk again soon. i’m sorry.” it read.

He looks at you, seeing how you’re typing and deleting your message back and forth, you were finally able to send him a message.

“hi. I’m so sorry for everything that’s happened. are you free tomorrow? i was hoping to talk to you. does the nearby park sound good if ever?”

It took less than a minute for Ricky to respond, taking the best friends by surprise.

“oh my god, you responded. and ofc, it’s all good with me, i’m free tomorrow. i’ll see you then.”

You stared at your phone, rereading the short convo you two had. Getting up, you look over to Gyuvin to tell him you’ve made up your mind. 

“I’m confessing to him tomorrow.”

“Seriously?” He was completely surprised at this.

Fuck.  

“I mean– go for it! I can’t believe you finally have the guts to tell him.” he stutters out in hopes that the twinge of disapproval in his tone wasn’t obvious.

“Yeah. You were right about the now or never thing. I’m gonna tell him no matter what happens. The sooner I do it, the sooner I’ll get over it. It’s much better that way.”

You sigh and grab your bag. “I’m going home. It’s getting late.” “You want me to walk you home?” Gyuvin purses his lips

“Nah. I kinda need some alone time right now. Y’know, to figure out what to do and say tomorrow.”

“Oh okay, get home safe.”

You exchange goodbyes, and leave Gyuvin’s house. 

As he watches you leave, the boy is left behind alone with negative and conflicted feelings to your plans.

He plops down on his bed, slightly tearing up as he sends Hanbin a message.

Gyuvin: 

> it’s over for me

Hanbin:

> ?

>What happened?

> Do you want me to call or come over?

Gyuvin:

> eh

> she’s gonna confess to ricky tomorrow lmao

Hanbin:

>What? Really??

He tosses his phone to the side, ignoring the pings that followed.

Sighing, Gyuvin’s vision blurs as he contemplates everything that happened so far.

Would it have been better for him if you didn’t get close? Or meet at all?

Why couldn’t everything stay the same? 

Gyuvin pauses. Why was he even thinking like this? Shouldn’t he be happy you’ve finally gathered the courage after all these years? And then it hit him.

Ah. It’s because he’s scared that you actually have a chance with him. 

It’s the fact that despite everything that’s happened, there’s still a slight chance that Ricky can reciprocate your feelings. 

“I hate you so much.” Gyuvin whispers, unsure who he’s directing it to. Was it for you, Ricky or himself? Maybe it was all three.

Maybe he hated how you still tried to pursue Ricky even despite how things turned out. 

Hated how blind Ricky was for not seeing how he had someone who’d drop everything for him. 

Hated himself for being so frustrated and selfish. For how he felt about… all this.

Gyuvin eventually drifts off to sleep, dreading how tomorrow would turn out for all three of you.

———

Third time was when Ricky rejected you.

Initially, Gyuvin had mixed feelings. He thought about how this meant he still had a chance with you, before quickly shutting off the idea, feeling bad that he thought selfishly while you were still devastated.

He wouldn’t dare take advantage of your emotional state, right? Right?

Well….

A few days after you confessed, you actively avoided both Ricky and Alexa once again, especially seeing how often they’ve been together ever since. Gyuvin never missed the expression you bore every time you caught a glimpse of them, and one day, he decided he had enough of your state.

In the middle of lunch period, he grabs your arm and pulls you back as you were on your way to the cafeteria. “Hey,” he whispered. “Let’s skip the rest of school.”

You look at him with wide eyes before he leads you close to the exit, careful that no faculty member catches you. 

Once the coast was clear, he swiftly and quietly went through the exit, pulling you behind and now holding your hand while trying to keep it cool.

The both of you walked aimlessly afterwards, going to wherever your feet took you.

One free lunch later, you two spent the afternoon goofing off and exploring the city as much as you wanted. Then, the evening came and you found yourself enjoying the local fair with Gyuvin, before deciding you two were tired and walked home.

“Shit, I haven’t done that much walking in— well, at all, I think.” you sigh and Gyuvin laughs behind you, breaking the silence in the quiet, chilly night.

“Hey, thanks for today. Seriously. I haven’t had that much fun in a long time, so thank you.”

You turn to him and smile as you arrive in front of your house.

“Anytime. I kinda got sick of you moping around, so I figured you needed this, y’know?”

Silence hung between the two of you and you become unsure of what else to say.

As you turn to leave, Gyuvin calls out your name.

“Y/N. Can… Can I tell you something?” he hesitates, and you tilt your head.

He was unsure what possessed him to do this. He didn’t know if it was a spur of the moment thing, or because he felt that you two were still high on emotions, but everything he’d been keeping from you for years came out in seconds.

“I like you. I always have. And I have for years. I know now’s not the best time to tell you this, but after seeing everything you went through for Ricky, I genuinely couldn’t take it anymore. I hated how you were doing everything for him when I knew I could treat you better, but I didn’t want to ruin the years of friendship we had together. I’m so sorry.” 

Gyuvin confessed, the reality of the situation quickly hitting him as he watched your face morph into different expressions.

You were stunned, to say the least, and then you remembered what Ricky told you when you first hung out. And then all the signs you didn’t even notice before came swarming to you and everything made sense. In the end, you didn’t know how to feel.

“I’m– I’m so sorry Gyuvin.” you sputtered out, and you can see how his heart broke through his eyes. “I didn’t realize, I’m so stupid. I feel like an asshole now, I should’ve considered how you felt especially when I talked about—”

“It’s fine. Really. I knew I didn’t stand a chance with him anyways, so I kept quiet. I didn’t want to ruin the years we had together instead.” Gyuvin smiles sadly, as tears shone his eyes.

“Um, I should go. I didn’t mean to keep you this long, I’m sorry.” He turns and starts to walk away.

“Wait!” you call for him, but fall silent after seeing him turn.

“Hey, it’s fine, really. I didn’t expect much anyways. You know how you told Ricky it wasn’t his fault? It’s not yours, either. I understand I'm not the only one for you. So please, don’t beat yourself up over it. I might stay out for a while though, I need some time and space. But always remember that I’m here regardless of the pain, so don’t tell me to go away from you.”

Gyuvin takes a big breath to compose himself, before bidding his goodbyes. “I’ll see you around, yeah?” You couldn’t do anything else but nod and watch as he walks away, disappearing into the night and leaving you alone once again.

#zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #zb1 scenarios #gyuvin x reader #kim gyuvin x reader #youthinluv

[lestappenforever]

Miami, you were something, I can’t deny it. The race was not the best in terms of racing, but it brought a lot.

Firstly Logan and Williams. Logan was en route to a good race, and he’s been having a pretty decent weekend, with making up 9 places in the sprint, from p19 to p10, and I have a feeling he was en route to something similar during the race. But Kevin just had to go and ruin the most home race of his home races. He is getting comfortable (sort of after Australia). However, that Williams just is not it. They are not doing well, currently bottom of the pack, Alex not even being remotely close to points, actually Logan was closer. But they need to get their shit together, or they’re fucked.

VCARB are a force to be reckoned with in the midfield. Almost constant point finishes, and solid performances with massive overtakes that are just (chef’s kiss). Yuki is extracting everything and more from that car, and Daniel is trying.

ALPINE POINT, I REPEAT ALPINE POINTS. As I said in the previous weeks, its a slow but sure improvement in pace, and Esteban is doing WONDERS in that tractor. He’s outperforming and extracting the most if the car, more than Pierre is doing, and that will help him in the 2025 seat hunt. Also notting, Pierre was better in AT, actually wayy better in a supposedly worse car.

Haas didn’t have the answer yesterday. Nico was close, but not enough, and Kevin just causing terror and the not the type like the sprint. He has to take care as he’s 2 penalties away from a race ban.

Ferrari were STRONG (I’m of course talking about Charles). He extracted everything out of that car, and did the best he could in yesterday’s second fastest car. Carlos is going crazy about the seat, and it’s showing, with the way he raced, and the eay he ruined Oscar’s race. He needs to get his head in the game, focus and not get cocky, because what he’s doing will cost him a seat.

Mercedes and Aston are just away from the top 3, they’re getting better, sure, but still not there. And that is a problem, because there could be climbers and surprises.

Red Bull did not have the answer, and that’s okay. Max was saying that he wasn’t a million percent confident in the car since Friday afternoon, and it showed in his comments post quali. Definitely the team will work so much on that, and Max won’t allow anything to happen in the next double header. He won’t accept ir allow anything other than first. Also that floor damage with the cone removal he decided on and the safety car timing, yeah it was kind if an off weekend. As for Checo, he did the best he could, but God that launch into turn one that could have taken him, Max and Charles out, he needs to stop being irrational in that sense, simply because a Mexico 2023 crash could be detrimental in his position for a seat in 2025. But nonetheless, Red Bull not finishing below 5th this season is impressive and they’ll work tripple as hard for next week.

Finally, the team if the hour who had it right on the day it mattered the most. The upgrades should worry the competition because the car is FAST. Lando extracted everything and fir the first time ever, luck was on his side fir that top step. And I can’t tell you how proud I am of him. Also Oscar was en route to a good race, of course Carlos ruined it.

But yeah, Miami was good, not the best in terms of racing, but rather emotions. Everyone going to congratulate Lando, especially since everyone kn that grid knows its been a long time coming, Max saying that if he had to be beat, he’s glas it was Lando who beat him, that podium with Max first then Charles focusing on Lando. All top teams congratulated him, with Red Bull posting the iconic baby Max and Lando pic. You could tell that he is loved in that paddock and that he has been so hard on himself that when the time came, no one could be upset, even us Max fans, because he deserves it.

Now time to regroup and start the European Leg. (also that black on black outfit Max had with black backwards cap while partying with Lando is just 😮‍💨)

Just going to leave this here in all its glory.

#Asks #agentofchaos001 ❤️ #Miami GP 2024

[wiypt-writes]

Brothers In Arms

Part 7: Music’s Too Loud Without You

Summary: Ransom learns of your pregnancy, but when he returns home, there’s another surprise waiting for him…

Warnings: Bad language words. Smut. Violence…angry Ran and angry Steve.

Pairing: MOB (darkish…sorta) Ransom Drysdale x Reader /MOB DARK Steve Rogers x Reader

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: This is a VERY Ransom/Steve heavy chapter...the reader doesn’t feature much, and won’t in Part 8 either. After this we’ve only 2 plus an epilogue to go...eeeeek! Huge thanks to my beta and constant source of love and light @spectre-posts​

W/C: 3.6k

Brothers In Arms Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part 6

Silence stretched between the two of you as Ransom looked down at the test which now lay in his hands. You watched as his expression never changed. His eyes remained focused, nostrils flared a little as he took a deep breath, the nerve was still twitching in his jaw. So, it was a surprise to you, when the inevitable question came in such a quiet and meek manner.

“Is it mine?”

You licked your lips, swallowing as you blinked back tears. “I don’t know. And I…we never will.”

“What do you mean?”

“A paternity test would be useless.” You spoke, a little sadly. “You, and…him…I mean, identical twins…you share DNA.”

Ransom opened his mouth as if to speak, but he shut it again as he gently handed you the test back. “No, I guess you’re right.” He spoke softly, before he then shook his head, almost as if he was trying to dislodge whatever thought or image he had in his head. “But…it’s gotta be mine, right? I mean…we had…a lot of…” he waved his hand, “and you, you and him…it was once, so…odds on…”

He trailed off as you looked at him, a pang in your chest. There was no malice in his tone, no accusation, no bitterness. In fact, it was almost as if he was pleading. Pleading with you to tell him what he needed, or wanted to hear.

“Ransom…” you wiped your eyes, “I don’t…I mean, okay, the mathematical probability would likely lean towards you but…it only takes once and I can’t…” you looked at him, fresh tears stinging your eyes and nose, “I can’t say for sure.”

You saw the film of mist cover his eyes and you looked away, giving him a moment to compose himself. He cleared his throat, but when he spoke, his voice was thick. “Are you gonna keep it?”

“I don’t know. I need time to think about it.” You blinked back more tears as Ransom glanced up at the ceiling, almost as if he was hoping to find the solution to all of this up there on the clinically white suspended tiles.

“Whatever you want…then…I’ll help.” Ransom’s gaze returned to you, “If you keep it, I’ll support you. I’ll do whatever, be as involved as a father or as not involved as you want, but you’ll want for nothing. Either of you. Whatever you decide…”

At that point the door to the bathroom opened and you turned to the door, Ransom automatically moving so that he was stood in between it and you.

“Boss…” Natasha spoke, her voice gentle, “we don’t have a lot of time.”

“No…” Ransom looked down at his feet, “no we don’t.”

You weren’t sure if he was talking about the fact that any moment now the temporarily incapacitated security detail would be waking up, or the fact that you would soon have to come to terms with a decision about the baby currently residing in your belly. You raised your head to look at him, and he took a deep breath before he turned to Natasha. When he spoke, his voice was back to normal, business as usual.

“Y/N has agreed to my proposal. You’re to stay with her, keep her safe. There’ll be no contact from or to me unless she explicitly permits it.” Natasha nodded.  Ransom took another deep breath, before he looked back at you. “if you need me…you have my number.” And with that he gave a jerk of his head, and swept from the room.

You nodded, before you turned away, and then you could hold it no longer. Your shoulders began to shake as you started to cry.

“Oh…hey…Y/N…” Nat’s voice was a little shocked, awkward almost as you felt her arm gently touch her elbow. “Hey, what is it?”

“Everything…”You managed to croak out between your shaking sobs, “I ruined everything…I should have never gone to that damned party in the first place, I should never have lied…and now…now…my brother is out there fighting for his life and I’m…well, I don’t know what I’m doing with mine.”

“Well, how about we focus on right here, right now?” Nat spoke softly, “let’s get you calmed down, freshened up and then we’ll head back to your brother’s room. See how he is.”

You nodded. “Yeah…”

“I’ll be outside, most likely arguing with Harlan’s goons.” She gave you a little smile and you watched her go.

You turned to look at yourself in the mirror, and as you stared at your pale and drawn face, your hands both gently came to a rest on your stomach. You stood there, trying to get your head around all of this. Did you want this baby? More so, could you have the baby knowing that there was a chance it could be Steve’s. What if he found out? He’d been so clear about the fact he wanted you, you were sure that there was no point he’d simply leave you alone if he knew you were pregnant. Maybe you could run away…Ransom had said he’d help you in any way possible, so maybe he would give you enough cash to get you out of the country, and a new life somewhere else…

Loud voices drew you from your contemplation and you had to give a little snort as you realised Natasha had been right, she was arguing with your newly acquired bodyguards. Right now, this wasn’t about you. It was about Ari. So, you took a deep breath, summonsed all the composure and self-assurance you could muster, and yanked the door open.

*****

Ransom blazed through his mansion, barking orders and dismissing everyone he came across, including Langley. He wasn’t in the mood for his best friend or dealing with business today, he could think about nothing other than you, and the unborn baby in your belly. A million and one feelings were brewing inside him, and he couldn’t really identify any specific one with the exception of fear. Fear that, if Steve found out, it would put you in even more danger than you were. No, it was imperative that his asshole brother never found out about this.

He poured himself a scotch and drained it in one, wincing a the burn in his throat. He refilled his glass and sank into the chair behind his desk, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. If only he knew what it was that Levinson had uncovered. If he could prove to his shit head brother that it wasn’t him who had ordered that fateful hit which had gone wrong then maybe Ransom could buy himself enough time whilst he figured out how to kill the fucker. Because, that was inevitable; Steve Rogers would die. His fate had been sealed the minute he’d fucked you.

It didn’t escape Ransom, however, that even if he managed to kill his brother, Steve had achieved what he had wanted. He’d taken you away. You, the person who Ransom loved most. The person who he would have single handedly faced the devil himself for. Killing Steve wouldn’t repair the broken fragments of your relationship, it wouldn’t wash away what Ransom had done to you, but…

“It’ll make me feel better.” He necked his drink again, standing to refill the glass, his hands clutching at the neck of the crystal decanter. He knew he was lying to himself, nothing was going to make him feel better. Nothing other than having you back where you belonged. Back in his arms, in his bed. He wanted to watch you do that adorable little twitch of the face as you woke up. He wanted to argue with you over getting a dog. He wanted to play fight with you over what movie you put on. He wanted to see you in his clothes, fluffy socks on your feet, hair tossed up in a messy bun as you sat on the sofa surrounded by junk. He wanted to see your belly as it grew with his baby, see the other changes that brought to your body. He wanted to hold you, yelling as you squeezed his fingers so hard they felt like they were going to break as you gave birth…

Tears welled in his eyes and with a loud yell of anger, frustration, and downright devastation, he launched the crystal decanter at the wall where it shattered into a million pieces.

As much as he solely wanted to blame Steve for this mess, Harlan and Levinson were right. This was his doing as much as it was his brothers. And he had no fucking idea how to fix any of it.

“And now I’ve got not fucking scotch!” He yelled. He took a step to the right with the intention of yanking open the door and shouting loud enough until someone brought him some more, but he stopped dead as something caught his eye. He glanced back down at his desk and spotted, for the first time, an A4 sized envelope. It had clearly arrived in the post, and he assumed it had been that morning given the date stamps. He picked it up, it was flat but card backed, the type of envelope that normally contained things that the sender didn’t want bending.

Temporarily, all thoughts of you and alcohol flew from his mind. He reached for the letter opener, slit the envelope from left to right along the top, and then turned it upside down.

Two photos fell out, one landed picture down. With a frown, Ransom tossed the envelope down on the desk and glanced down at the photo which was the right way up. His brow furrowed as he saw Rumlow sat at a table at the country club with a large bulky envelope in one hand, and a bound wad of notes in the other.

Ransom’s mouth dropped open as he realised what this was. It was a payment, and more specifically, he knew that the only reason anyone would send this to him was that it was the payment which had sealed Peggy Rogers’ fate. This was the deal that was made when Rumlow was supposed to shoot Steve. Which meant that, the other photo which still lay with its blank, white back facing upwards, was about to show him who had arranged it.

He swallowed, suddenly feeling hot and clammy with anticipation. The blood was thumping around his head and ears as he reached out, and turned it over. His eyes widened as he saw, for the first time, the person who had been responsible for the hit, the reason Steve hated Ransom so much, the reason he’d gone after you to seek revenge on the wrong person.

And he knew the man. He knew the man extremely well.  

******

“Boss?”

Steve looked up to see Bucky in the doorway. “What is it, Buck?”

“Your brother is here.”

Steve’s brow furrowed, before he gave a little huff. “Well, show him in.”

A few minutes later, Ransom bustled into the room, the back of his long, tan coat flapping a little.

“Ransom, what a pleasant surprise.” Steve drawled. Ransom merely glared back at him. “Gun on the table,” Steve tapped the surface of this desk, “if you’d be so kind.”

With the filthiest look Ransom could muster, he reached into the waistband of his trousers and pulled out his weapon. He tossed it onto the desk.

“You packing anything else, no knives in your socks?” Steve arched a brow and Ransom scoffed.

“Knives ain’t my style.”

“Ah yes, never been one for getting your hands dirty.” Barnes chuckled from behind him and Ransom twisted his neck a little to look over his shoulder. “Tell me, how is Levinson?”

With a snarl, Ransom spun round. “You best hope he pulls through, because if he doesn’t…”

“You’ll do what?” Bucky stood still, not so much as flinching.

“Okay, boys, that’s enough.” Steve spoke, humour lacing his tone. “I’m sure we can all agree that what had to happen to Ari is…regrettable.”

“Regrettable? You did it, you stupid cunt. And for no reason.” Ransom tossed the package he was holding on the desk.

“What’s this?”

“An envelope.” Ransom deadpanned.

“Hilarious.” Steve rolled his eyes. “What’s in it?”

“Look and see. Or are you blind as well as fucking dumb?”

With his eyes still on Ransom’s, Steve reached for the envelope and pulled out the photos inside. Ransom watched and saw his brother’s eyes narrow, before they widened.

“Is this…”

“Yeah.” Ransom nodded

“What is it, Steve?” Buck asked as he walked round the side of the desk

“That is a picture. Well, two to be exact.” Ransom answered for Steve as Bucky took them. “Showing, what I believe, to be the meeting which set up the hit that was taken out on Steeby. The hit that killed Peggy.”

At the last sentence, Ransom bowed his head a little. Despite everything Steve was, he’d loved Peggy. Worshipped the ground she walked on and would do anything to keep her safe.

As he did and would with you. And your...

At the thought of you, and the baby in your belly, Ransom felt a stir of anger and his eyes returned to his brother who was now, he was both pleased and amused to see, looking utterly dumb struck.

“I told you it wasn’t me that organised it.“ Ransom spat, “you came after the wrong guy…and you…”

Steve looked at Ransom, his eyes locked onto his as he shook his head. “What do you want, an apology?”

Ransom snorted, “even now you can’t admit-“

“This doesn’t prove anything…” Steve waved the photo.

“You’re right, it doesn’t. And the one person that could confirm this is currently lying in a hospital bed because your guard dog couldn’t wait to get his knives out.”

“Levinson was tailing-“

“Because of what you did to Y/N!” Ransom snarled.

There was a moments silence, before Bucky cleared his throat. “Boss…I think…I think you should give these some serious consideration. I mean, why else would he-“ he jabbed his finger at the photo, “be meeting with Rumlow, huh? Who else did he want to have shot?”

“And why would anyone send it to me?” Ransom added.

“But why?” Steve frowned, “it makes no sense.

Ransom popped a shoulder. “He’s always been a jealous prick. Maybe he snapped, wanted to clear the path for himself, I don’t know. But we won’t either, not for sure, until we confront him.”

“If it is true…” Steve looked at Ransom, “I will kill him.”

Ransom popped a shoulder, “I ain’t gonna stop you.”

Steve took a deep breath, “Ransom…”

Ransom stood, waiting, his arms folded. But nothing came. Eventually he scoffed and reached for his gun.

“Save it, let’s go confront the son of a bitch. The sooner this is all over…” he trailed off. He was about to say the sooner this mess was dealt with, the sooner he could get back to putting things right with you. But, well, that wasn’t something he was sure would happen.

He tucked the gun into his waistband and then stood tall, brushing his hand through his hair. “Now, are you organising the flight to Boston, or shall I?”

**********

“Something smells good.”

“Pumpkin and Gingerbread cookies.” You grinned, turning to face him. “Shaped like…”

“Spooky stuff…” Ransom chuckled as he saw the array of different shaped cookies.

“Thought I’d do a test batch for Halloween.“

“You do know I booked catering for the party, right?” His arms circled you from behind.

“Yeah but I wanted to do something…”

He kissed your cheek, “so come on, let me test one.”

You grinned, and held one up over your shoulder for him to take a bite. He chewed, made an appreciative noise and swallowed.

“They’re good. Real good. Taste almost as good as you.”

You laughed and slapped his arm lightly. “Are hungry? I wasn’t sure if you would have eaten…”

“Starving…” he nipped at the skin behind your ear.

“I made lasagna,” you closed your eyes as his lips moved down your neck.

“Hmmm…rather have my dessert first,” his lips caressed your jaw.

“You can’t…”

“Says who?”

“That ain’t the way it’s done.” You mumbled and then giggled as he spun you to face him.

“I can do what the fuck I want,” he grinned as he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. “And right now, I wanna do you.”

He lifted you easily onto the kitchen counter, his hands gripping the bottom of your sweater. You bit your lip as he pulled it over your head, groaning as he realised you had no bra on underneath.

His lips pressed to the hollow of your throat, before he kissed the swell of your breast. Then, his lips pulled in your nipple, teeth gently grazing the sensitive nub. You groaned, arching into him a little, your hands in his hair, nails scratching his scalp.

It wasn’t long until your leggings had been discarded, along with your panties and he was stuffed inside of you, your legs round his waist, ass perched on the edge of the counter. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he thrust into you, over and over again.

“Fahk, princess…” his lips pressed to yours, swallowing your groan as he could feel you squeezing him. “You gonna cum, baby?”

“Yeah…yeah…oh…oh,  god…Ran…”

With a moan, you tipped your head back, and Ransom grunted as he felt your heat squeezing him, pulling him in further…god, you were just exquisite. He loved you, with everything he had…

Ransom shifted in his seat, his eyes closed. It seemed a bittersweet curse that his dreams were always filled with memories of you. Maybe that was his penance for the way he’d treated you…

He popped an eye open and saw his brother sat on the other side of the jet, a scotch on his hand. He was contemplating something. In a way that the twins has always been able to do, Steve sensed Ransom’s eyes on him and turned to face him. Ransom looked away.

“So, humour me, Ranny…”

Ransom growled and looked at him, “what?”

“I’m curious. I mean, you know now, that Y/N wasn’t completely aware it was me at Stark’s party but…did you know she arranged to meet me?”

“Yes.” His reply was curt.

“She backed out.”

“I know.”

“I mean, if she’d gone through with it…I’d have sent you the photos anyway but…”

Ransom growled, “shut up.”

“But…back to my point. You know all of this…and yet you’ve not got her back yet…why?”

“None of your dammed business.”

“Ahhh, it’s not your choice, I see. She pissed you didn’t believe her?”

Ransom clenched his jaw, “keep talking…go on.”

Steve simply smirked and sat back, “I mean, your relationship can’t have been that strong if you didn’t believe her in the first place. How many other-“

He was cut off as Ransom shot out of his chair and gripped him round the neck, closing his fingers tightly.

“You don’t mention her. You got that? She’s nothing to do with you.”

Steve nodded as Ransom let go, sitting back down.

“You’re going soft.” He chuckled.

Ransom sighed, “shut up, Steve. You’re boring me now.”

“I mean, you have been threatening to kill me for weeks and here is your perfect opportunity. No one here but me and you.”

“Well, call me old fashioned but I think you deserve revenge on the man who really ruined your life.”

“And then…then what?”

Ransom shrugged.

“He ruined yours too, remember?” Steve sighed, “if he hadn’t organised that hit…then…I wouldn’t have…”

Ransom turned his head towards his brother and opened one eye. “Is that an apology?”

Steve simply smirked, “if you wanna call it that.”

“You never were any good at them.” Ransom closed his eyes again and let out a deep breath. “Even as a kid sorry never formed part of your vocabulary.”

“Wasn’t part of yours either.”

“Touche, Steeby, touché.”

The rest of the flight was spent in silence, and before long they were pulling up outside their Grandfathers mansion. The driver, who Harlan had sent for them both, had barely pulled to a stop before Steve was out of the car.

“Steve, hey…” Ransom hurried to catch him, gripping his shoulder, “just…wait…”

“I’ve waited long enough.”

Ransom looked at his brother before he sighed, “fine, have it your way.”

Steve stormed through the mansion, Ransom simply swaggering behind as they made their way to Harlan’s office. Not bothering to knock, Steve fling the door open and their grandfather didn’t flinch as he looked up.

“Ahh. I though I had heard you had arrived. I also heard from my security at the hospital, I told you, Ransom, no-”

He stopped mid sentence as Ransom simply tossed the envelope down on the desk and Harlan looked at it.

“What’s this?”

“Photos. Photos of Rumlow with the…” Steve took a deep breath, “the person who really organised the hit.”

“So this is what Levinson found out?” Harlan reached for it. Ransom nodded.

“You ain’t gonna like it.” He warned.

Harlan opened the envelope and pulled out the photos, and he groaned. “Oh you stupid….”

“Where is he?” Steve demanded.

“He’ll be at the publishers.”

“Fine…” Steve turned to go.

“Wait!”

“I can’t and won’t do that.” Steve shook his head. “I’m going to kill him, he’s been in the business long enough to know how this goes…”

“And so have I.” Harlan sighed, sadness in his tone. “I can’t and I won’t stop you...not after...” he sighed and shook his head. “But let me call him, get him to meet me at the warehouse. It’s…it’ll be empty today, and I don’t want this anywhere near our legitimate front. Plus…I’d like an explanation. He is…he is….”

Harlan seemed unable to finish his sentence and he merely trailed off. Steve looked at Ransom who popped a shoulder.

“Okay, fine.” Steve consented, “but tell him to make it quick.”

Harlan nodded and picked up his phone. It was about five seconds or so before he took a deep breath. “I need to see you.”

******** 

Another cliff hanger...yeah I’m evil...but WHO do YOU think it is???

Find out in Part 8

#Brothers In Arms #mob ransom drysdale #mob ransom drysdale x reader #MOB Ransom Drysdale x you #mob steve rogers #mob steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #mob au #chris evans characters

[shiemori-writes]

PAIRING: Sebek Zigvolt x Reader

SUMMARY: Sebek has taken notice of his friend's recent unusual behaviour, and when he saw them crying one night, he took it upon himself to try to comfort them, only later realizing that the reason for their tears was because of a book they've recently read.

CONTAINS: gender neutral reader, mutual pining, 2nd Person POV, SFW, Fluff with a hint of crack

Authors Note: Ah my first (published) fic! hope y'all like it! I'm having a bit of a Sebek brainrot atm and I thought this would be a funny concept to write :D

Pacing through the halls of Diasomnia, Sebek had been pondering about your recent strange behaviour.

You appeared to be more...what was the word?

'sad?'

for lack of a better term, he thought. You'd always space out during your hangouts and was generally more...quiet, than usual, eerily so.

He'd never admit it out loud but- he missed your old self, he was worried for your wellbeing- as much as he's embarrassed to admit it.

Never would the young knight in training would have thought that he would ever befriend you, the magicless prefect, let alone be worried about you out of all people.

He grumbled under his breath, how dare you? A human- a magicless one at that- make him so distracted from his duties as a knight? Make him feel so, so-

"Worried?"

A voice interrupted his train of thoughts, chuckling in amusement.

Startled by the sudden presence, he fumbled, but quickly regained his sense of composure upon realizing who the voice belonged to. Stiffening, his face reddened.

"M-master Lilia!!!" He bowed, attempting to hide his flustered state, he coughed. "W-worried by what, exactly?" he asked, confused by the sudden question his master brought upon him.

"Why, worried for the ramshackle prefect obviously!" The old fae replied smiling, as if stating the most obvious thing in the world.

"W-WHAT?!!?"

His voice yelled out all throughout the dorm, causing Lilia to be startled by his sudden loudness, even startling himself from how loud he had been infront of his master. Lowering his head in shame he mumbled an apology for his behaviour, even more embarrassed than before

Oh great sevens end him now

Lilia merely laughed it off, patting his back like how a father would when talking with his son. "Oh! It's quite alright Sebek!" The shorter fae replied laughing, heavily amused by how flustered you made him. 'Ah young love!' He thought, reminiscing on the days where he'd been younger.

Shaking his head, he quickly came back to the topic at hand, you.

"But anyways, I take it you're worried for y/n?" He asked, glancing at the expression the knight in training was currently making.

The boy in question averted his gaze, replying with a curt nod. "....Yes...They've been...More quiet? They seem to be more lost in thought often..I...Worry for them." He said quietly, furrowing his eyebrows at the thought of you being so miserable.

Lilia stroked his chin, closing his eyes as if deep in thought. "I see..They must miss their home a lot." The old fae added, taking account in how you technically had no family here with you, no photographs to hold close to and cherish, nothing to remind you of home, nothing.

There was a brief silence after his master's statement,

Huh. He never did put much thought into that.

It must be awfully lonely being surrounded by people who already know each other- ....

As he let the thought sink in more and more, he felt immense sympathy and, furthermore, guilt.

feeling conflicted. He did want to comfort you, but-

what would he even say? he never was the type to spew out flowery compliments, let alone comfort. He was still...Fairly new to all of it.

Lilia, who had been watching him silently sulk in sorrow, had finally decided to break the silence.

"Go to them"

He urged the boy, who was now staring at him with wide eyes.

"N-now-????" he asked, "B-but master Lilia! wouldn't it be improper to visit at such a-" He was promptly shushed by the older fae, who simply smiled at him in approval. "I'm sure they'd appreciate it Sebek, they need a friend to cheer them up after all!" He said, encouraging him even more.

Huffing out, the young knight nodded, determination flodding him suddenly, as he ran towards ramshackle.

Watching as the boy ran, Lilia simply snickered.

"Hmm..I think I forgot to tell him they were simply getting emotional at the book I gave the prefect...hm..Welp! Oh well!"

There he stood, finally reaching your dorm. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door. Shuffling could be heard behind the door as your footsteps grew louder and louder, until finally the door had been opened.

"Crowley for the last time IF YOU- Sebek????" You turned to him, confused by his sudden visit. Stepping closer he inspected your face, your eyes were all red and puffy and faint tear stains could be seen. Dear sevens, you were this upset?

His eyebrows furrowed as his frown deepened. "Human....Have you been...crying?" He said, deciding to be direct, voice laced with (very badly) hidden worry and concern.

Your eyes widened in embarrassment, not expecting him to notice. Let's just say you've been binge reading a certain book series Lilia had given you and you may or may not have gotten attached to the characters, who, as predicted, had died. It was to be expected but you were still feeling bitter about the whole ordeal. You were gonna have to get back at Lilia for lying about it being a "happy story".

Snapping out of your thoughts you focused your attention on your (boy) friend who stood in front of you, arms crossed as he huffed, impatiently waiting for your answer.

"W-well,,, aha- yessss,????" You answered awkwardly, gesturing your hands into finger guns as you smiled nervously. "B-but uh! It's not a big deal reall-"

"Human!!!"

He interrupted seemingly embarrassed by what he's about to say next. "L-listen up you hear me!! I-I'm only gonna say this once!!!" He yelled out, his usual loud voice wavered.

You simply nodded, anticipating for what he was about to say, the determined face he held intriguing you.

"I..I know it must be- wait no that's- not right." he shook his head, correcting himself. "I- I may not know exactly how you may feel- nor have I gone through the same experience as you, Human- but.." He paused, carefully choosing his words.

"I want you to know that you will always have a home here, at NRC, and that we-..."

"I...Care for you."

Your eyes widened, taken aback by his genuine care and fondness he had declared to have for you. Smiling, you decided to hug him, while he was surprised, he can't say he didnt like the warmth you radiated, nor the smile that illuminated your features.

"Thanks Sebek, you can be unexpectedly sweet when you want to be can you?" You teased. He simply huffed and hugged you tighter in response, muttering a quiet 'shut up'. Giggling, you burried your head in the crook of his neck.

"Thanks for this, Sebek, It means a lot."

"...Anytime...Y/n.." he muttered quietly, playing with your hair. Gasping, you looked up to see his blush tinted cheeks.

"You actually said my name!"

"D-Don't get used to it Human!!!!"

EXTRA:

featuring: Grim ruining the peace because he can

Grim, who saw it all, snickering: PFT ya DO know that the reason my henchman was crying was because of a book they read right? Ya think it was because of somethin deep???

Sebek:

Sebek, eyes widening in horror: Human what is he implying

Y/n, sweating: uhh yeaaah- I wanted to tell you but you kindaa- interrupted before I could...Sebek? SEBEK-

Grim: MYAHHH HE PASSED OUT?!

(Additional) Author's Note: Did I, semi speedrun this because I just found out it's Leona's birthday and I wanted to write something for him? Maybe But! That having said, I hope you enjoyed reading!

#twisted wonderland x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek zigvolt #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fluff #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #diasomnia #x reader #sebek #disney twisted wonderland

[soulstrums]

hello all ! i'm nova (she/her) and i'm here today to finally bring you the quiet sweetheart that is lim sanghoon! he's a cursed one with the silent mission to prove not all darkspawn are bad. he's actually pretty quiet and shy, though don't mistake that for him being unconfident. born of a powerful sorcerer family and corrupted by the rot during his early 20s, he had become a revenant and wasted away due to a refusal to drink blood after coming to terms that he hated the after affect of consuming others memories, but what he hated more was the slow loss of his own. under the cut you will find a bit about his backstory && his personality. if you'd like to plot, give this post a like and i'll shoot you a dm!

. . . b a c k s t o r y .

he was born the year of the first blight, or so he recalls. he remembers being born to a family of powerful sorcerers, remembers that he was particularly gifted in his magic wielding.

but then then 25 years post-blight he had become corrupted by the rot and thus, had been forcefully turned into a creature he could never fathom being or wanting to be. he had become a revenant. a creature who lived off of blood consumption.

and if that wasn't bad enough, the consequences of satiating his hunger was having creatures memories forced into his head, replacing even his own memories that had started to become more and more faint over time. he was forgetting who he was, and where he came from.

and so, quiet bravely (or stupidly, depends who you ask) the young male had decided to stop consuming blood months later. this, in result, led to his health decaying and his being withering away until the abyss, who's rot had affected him, had re-claimed him.

he's not sure how long he was in darkness after that, doesn't remember how long he waited. until finally, a voice in a desperate plea had summoned him and he appeared before her. jang bomi was in horrible condition; clearly on deaths door.

the ritual had been rushed, his bonded was out of it, he himself, was panicked, confused and overwhelmed. by the time they drank each others blood she had collapsed unconscious. it was now up to him to take care of his new-found bond. sanghoon was now a dark one, complete with horns and a tail.

he had taken care of her, made sure her health got better. and he's been with her ever since; they'd moved and he started helping her take care of her little shop, and following his own passion of music in his free time.

. . . p e r s o n a l i t y .

sanghoon, while a sweetheart with a gentle smile, host a dark-side that shows in a more.. protective and possessive light. he will not hesitate to harm for the people he holds dear; particularly his bond.

a lover of all things art; be it music, painting, or pottery. he will happily explain that it's the reason he spends a lot of his time working at the dragon's hoard. he loves the atmosphere, and enjoys the reaction to his bonded's art. other than that, you'll quite often see him in the tavern singing his heart out.

naturally, he's pretty calm and laidback—able to go with the flow. but he's also quick to anger, especially if his dark-side is triggered. then you're just asking for brutal coldness, dominance and violence. just a tip; don't mess with his bond if you don't want to get burned.

as mentioned before, he can be pretty quiet and shy towards people. he much prefers to stick to himself within his little shell, but that doesn't mean he can't be playful and teasing.

on the contrary, due to being pretty young compared to other darkspawn who can live a really long time... sanghoon can be a little childish, and immature. it shows in how he'll get huffy, jealous over nothing and give an attitude like a petulant child when mad.

honestly, at this point he's just trying to live in some sort of peace by doing his best to keep the fact he's a cursed one hidden and posing as a normal, unspecial human.

. . . w a n t e d .

maybe give me someone who understands what sanghoon is going through? perhaps, another gentle darkspawn who is simply trying to keep to themselves.

maybe someone who knew him in his first life when he was a sorcerer?

people who are fans of his music

give me that opposite friendship; the bundle of sunshine with the cold, quiet one (sanghoon)

maybe someone that rubs him the wrong way or vice versa? i think an enemies plot could be fun; always trying to piss one another off for whatever reason.

#sn:intro #( this is super temporary #his pages will be done as soon as possible ! #this is very basic to give an idea of him #tags to be added

[belmottetower]

3.09 - "I'm flattered."

Another part of my Subjectify review that I am REALLY curious for people's thoughts on. This is following on directly from the killjoy post about Sam, Jamie and the armband, and it's about the moment everyone in the room apparently clocks Jamie as queer. This was something we both immediately enjoyed, obviously, but then my co-writer came to find quite weird in a not-so-great way, and I am still in a state of "What did that even mean?" I think Nat makes good points here but I'm curious where others are at about it

‘Ted Lasso’ season 3, episode 9 in conversation: Second-best way it could’ve gone

Natalie: Sorry to crush your joy. I’m about to do it again with the whole 10% gays in the dressing room moment, another bizarre choice regarding Jamie that I am going to complain about. Obviously we follow Isaac to the boot room for a moment, but we don’t hear much there before we cut BACK to the dressing room to follow up on the team’s mood after he leaves. I had high hopes for where this was going as they try to work out what exactly just happened here. Firstly, Moe assumes that Isaac’s reaction is because he himself is gay. It’s not an unfair assumption given the circumstances, and we – and more importantly Colin – get to see how the group would react when talking about a team member being gay.

I thought this was quite a clever way to show Colin that he was safe, all that kind of thing. It’s still not exactly a coming out on his own terms that he chose to do just because he wanted, but the stage was very well set for him. Of course everyone reacts well to Isaac being gay, of course Jan has a statistic, of course Beard pointed out the implication of that statistic. And now is the moment I get to stomp all over people’s happiness again by calling out how deeply shady I found the whole Jamie moment here to be.

This one wasn’t immediate hate, it was mostly a lot of confusion, and some delight at such an absurd response and non-denial. There’s a LOT of good things I have to say about the way Jamie responded to apparently the entire room assuming he’s in the 10%. But the fact that this was the gag – that everyone’s like, “Well, Jamie, right?” Oh, this felt very bad to me after a few minutes’ consideration. I’m such a fucking Zazu and a fun vampire I know, but like, this is NOT the same as a bunch of fellow queer people being like “Wow that earring, wow, that whole vibe.” This is not “I know what you are – one of us!” from a group of people in the LGBTQI+ community. This is “I know what you are – you’re not like us” from a bunch of straight guys who clock him as Other.

What the hell was going on here? What is the joke? What is the joke within their world? Is it how he dresses? Because spoiler alert, they all dress wildly. WHY THE FUCK IS HE THE ONE THE WHOLE ROOM THINKS IS QUEER? It’s so fucking difficult, because as a queer person I DO think he is queer. He feels like the MOST queer-coded player on the team to me and he always has. He is a CLASSIC bisexual disaster and every queer fan thinks so. So was this fan service? Is this Ted Lasso knowing that all the queer people watching the show claimed Jamie immediately and gave us a little nod to say “Sure, we get it!” Because fam, that does not come across the same way when it’s a group of straight footballers being like “Oh yeah, I always thought Jamie was a bit gay, bruv.” WHAT WAS THIS ABOUT, MEGAN?

It genuinely kind of concerns me that they’ve decided to be like “Oh, he’s clockable,” but in a straight guy “Oh well obviously he’s not one of us, the fruit” way. No one in that dressing room is thinking it that meanly, but like, what? Even Ted? Just… us as the queer audience clocking him is not the same at all as a bunch of straight dudes clocking him! For their presumed assumptions of what makes someone queer! What was the reason? Floral tracksuits? Hearing his dad call him a pussy? Of course my first reaction was like “WELL, NOT A NO!” and I’m also so thrilled he would say that even if straight, like it’s a compliment, given how his dad acts about him being soft. The fact he acted like that as opposed to being like “Fuck off, not me!” is beautiful. But WHAT THE FUCK, GREYHOUNDS?

Megan: Firstly, I respect and love you and your Zazu-ness. Or perhaps your Babs-ness, for an in-show reference. But yeah, look. Nearly every single person who I talk to about Ted Lasso sees Jamie and thinks “that is not a straight man,” but nearly every single person I talk to about Ted Lasso is also not, themselves, straight. So we are looking at Jamie, and seeing things about him – whether it’s tropes or style or behaviour – and thinking “Oh yeah. I see you. I recognise you. You are me.” But it is very different for a bunch of sports bros to look at Jamie and, with whatever well-meaning possibly internalised stereotypes they have, thinking “Oh yeah, Jamie’s the other one.”

I think this is probably meant to be fan service. That, as you say, it is meant to be an acknowledgement of the fact that so many queer fans who watch this have claimed Jamie as our own. We know that some involved know about this. Phil has spoken about Jamie and Roy it A LOT, and liked a comment on his instagram that said Jamie should get a boyfriend in season 3. I think that is what they are intending to show with this – “hey, we heard you, wink wink!” – and I think people who do have that valid read of Jamie loved it, especially because Jamie does not deny it! But when you dig a little deeper, the implications are not so good. Why you always gotta make me dig a little deeper, Babs? I mean Nat.

Natalie: Look, reductive as it may sound, them – them being the team, Ted and Beard, all of them thinking he’s queer because – what? He has an earring? He gets his eyebrows threaded? I literally don’t know! – is NOT the same as us thinking he’s queer. Like with us it’s the call is coming from inside the house. If he is NOT in fact actually going to be confirmed as bi, this is just a bunch of footballers being like “Well that guy feels gay to us for reasons.” WHAT REASONS? Because he’s very obviously been demonstrably into women!

Megan: And they don’t mean it in a negative or nasty way! But it would be based on the way he acts or dresses. I mean technically there are probably 25-odd people in the room. So 10% would be 2.5. We know about Colin and Trent. Maybe they’re thinking Jamie is bi and the .5. Maybe I’m overthinking it.

Natalie: Yeah, but no one here is saying the word queer or bisexual, no, someone else in this room is probably gay, and it’s probably Jamie! I mean maybe they all think he’s in love with Roy, because the way he acts about Roy is loud and embarrassing. Or maybe he’s always saying things about men being fit, casually, without meaning much by it. But we have never seen anything like that happen. We have to judge it on what they’ve shown us. Maybe this is because Isaac also wore a pink tracksuit and they currently think Isaac is gay and Jamie also wore a pink tracksuit.

Megan: It’s probably the Roy thing. Maybe they don’t think he’s realised it himself yet and they’re all staring at him waiting for him to do a realisation face about how him being obsessed with Roy makes him queer. One 3 second scene and two words have driven us mad.

Natalie: SO many people are DELIGHTED by this, like “Hahahahah they all know Jamie is queer!” and I’m just like…. “Okay, this feels very bad to me!” Even though I absolutely think he is queer! I think it’s a great response from him, given absolutely everything we know about him and his baggage with a toxic father. Jamie has done nothing wrong here. It’s just an INSANE implication from the other guys. And if it’s going nowhere, I also do not like to be pandered to. If Ted Lasso is doing fan service, like “We know you all think he’s queer, so here you go, a moment that acknowledges that maybe he does have a vibe like that, even though we don’t actually think he is,” they can keep it.

Maybe I’m not giving them enough trust, and next week he will just try to snog Roy because he can’t contain his feelings after his England call up. But if I was a footballer in the closet and the whole dressing room was like “We think you’re gay,” like. It’s not great! I would really like to know what the stereotypes are about him that mean these straight dudes who apparently haven’t clocked TRENT think this about him! Because yes, he may have expressed things! But we never saw those things. We only have like… what. Hair? Clothes? Vibes? Like what the hell did the GA think of that moment?

Megan: Especially if I was a footballer with James Tartt as a father!

Natalie: And especially if my COACHES were in on it! Look I have to move on from this, it’s so fucking weird. It’s so weird that all of this happens. And what’s weirder is that after all that, Colin steps up to clarify that no, Isaac isn’t gay… He is. Except we don’t see any of what he actually says because Ted Lasso decided that cutting away from Colin and only coming back to him in the aftermath was some sort of subversive way of doing his coming out. Instead of hearing what he has to say, and how he chooses to express himself, what parts he tells about his story or what happened with him and Isaac, we just cut back to Isaac and Roy – which is a very important scene, but like…They really think they did something here, cutting Colin. I think they thought it was meant to be powerful. It was not.

Megan: This is the moment for me which, unlike the other two you’ve flagged, I had an instant dislike of.

‘Ted Lasso’ season 3, episode 9 in conversation: Second-best way it could’ve gone

#ted lasso #jamie tartt