#atypical season 2

[editfandom]

Chrissy - Umma, 2022

[notdoneintentionally-blog]

Atypical friendships: Kuina-Kuzuryuu

Notes:  I’m thinking of posting a series of head canons of people in AiB who I think would be friends but the show did us dirty and missed their potential. The first one is Kuina and Kuzuryuu. @kuinaoflight  @diamond-attorney-keiichi tell me how much of these I got right!

- Kuina is literally the only person who takes him seriously, because she knows he's the only person (aside from An, and even then she seems more worried about her corpses than the actual living people of the Beach) who makes sure everything is running smoothly at the Beach. 

- Kuzuryuu knows Kuina is good with people and occasionally asks her about her opinion on how things are being handled, if she thinks the people are happy with the way he's running things, if she has any suggestions as to what to change, etc

- She's also very close to Chishiya and sometimes asks her if she can casually drop a hint here and there to make Chishiya do some work, because mans does absolutely no work as an executive except when Kuina asks him for something. 

- Kuina holds massive respect for Kuzuryuu because she can see how he's trying to make things as good as possible, so every time he asks her for something her response is 'I'm on it, sweetheart'

- Yes, she uses 'sweetheart' a lot with him. Kuzuryuu feels endearing to her, she knows that under his cold exterior is a very caring man.

- In turn, she gets special privileges whenever she asks. If she wants to change rooms, Kuzuryuu makes the change in less than an hour. If she wants to be partnered up with someone specifically in games, he makes it possible. She wants the bartender of the beach's nightclub fired, but not dead; he's on it. Everything she asks for, no questions asked. 

- Kuina mostly calls him Kuzuryuu, sometimes Keiichi, but a few times she’s slipped up and called him ‘Kei’. He doesn’t mind. 

- They did a hearts game together in which they had to figure out which item in the room had killed the person laying in the middle of it. Kuina was the one to solve it because she noticed that the blood and bruises on the body were just makeup (very shitty makeup, Kei, you should see the stuff I have back at the Beach) and the person wasn’t actually dead. She felt so proud of herself (as she should be) that he wanted to congratulate her somehow so he took her off the chore chart for the next day. 

- They recommend books to each other and talk them through after they're done with them. Their perspectives are always very different and that's what makes it so enjoyable to discuss them together, because they bring up different points of view.

- They discuss these books while Kuina does Kuzuryuu's makeup. She's applying eyeliner as he raves about Crime and Punishment and if that's not friendship goals idk what is. They’ve learned that Kuzuryuu looks really pretty with glitter in his eyes and that Kuina does not care much for Raskolnikov.  

- Kuina often tells him that once they get back to the real world she’s going to make him sit through every episode of Pretty Little Liars. She’s so excited every time she mentions this that Kuzuryuu doesn’t have the heart to let her down and always replies ‘Sure. I’m also looking forwards to it.’

[obsessingoverl]

Is Casey fruity???

[verybidisaster]

i’m ruined 😭

oh... this tweet does it 😔 (x)

[psychicreadsgirl]

Pick A Coffee Reading: How will you meet your next S/O?

Pick the coffee that draws you most. Remember if you are drawn to 2, then you can feel free to look at both readings. Take what resonates and leave what doesn't behind. This is a general reading so not everything will apply to you!

#1

You will likely meet your next S/O at some event or party. You will probably be introduced by someone or know each other from a mutual friend. You will likely meet in a more crowded/public area, so unlikely somewhere that's at home or familiar to you. This will feel more like an unexpected event as you probably had no plans to meet someone new that day.

#2

You will probably meet on a colder day, perhaps not the winter but perhaps on a day that's oddly cold for the season. It could be windy as well, but it's definitely not the typical day for that month/season. The weather could also be rather bad like rainy or storm or thunder or tornado or hurricane. It's probably not the most ideal setting/time for the meeting.

You'll likely look not your best on that day. Perhaps you also had a bad day too. This will likely be one of those random encounters, possibly at a school event/field trip/work related event like a conference. It could also be like even at a grocery store/convenience store where you're just running errands. It seems to be a "typical" day but then the meeting is rather atypical.

It's possible that after the meeting you won't even get connected to them properly until later on. You might even forget about this meeting and think they are annoying. It seems like this meeting's first impression is not so good.

#3

You will likely meet virtually/online. You will probably get connected through some interest or some activity online like they DM you on IG or you DM them on Twitter or something. You're also likely to befriend each other due to some common interest/goal like you might be wanting to study English or some other language so you become pen pals with them. You might be gaming and meet a fellow gamer friend who later becomes your S/O. You could also be introduced from a mutual online friend.

It's more likely that you will be friends with them first. The romance may also be slow burn, so even if you were to meet them online at first you might not even feel attracted to them at first. However after being friends for a while, you'll realize that they would be a good s/o.

#4

You're likely to meet them while travelling abroad or going out somewhere in the city. You're likely to meet them while having fun abroad so it could be a club or maybe a restaurant or a mall even. You could even meet them at a hotel/hostel/cruise. It seems like you're on some adventure when you meet them.

This may feel like a whirlwind romance as you feel instantly drawn to them. They may even show you around their hometown or place or they could be travelling abroad too so you guys explore the area together.

This romance could perhaps end as quickly as it starts though. However, for some it may even lead to marriage and your love story would be quite interesting to others. You might even start an IG/Youtube or something that features your romance abroad.

#5

You're likely to meet them at some place you often frequent. It could be a library where you often study or some coffee shop you often go to. The setting will be rather familiar to you.

The meeting could be either from an older person introducing you to them or from some mutual colleague/friend. It might even be like a blind date set up by your friends/family/parents. There seems to be some sort of "forced" situation here, and you likely already know you'd be meeting someone that day. There's some reluctance on your part to go this meeting and you will be pushed to go. You might even already have heard stories about this person and already made judgments about them before meeting them in person. It's sort of a situation where you already know the person's name but you don't know them personally.

This meeting will feel rather awkward at first. You will also probably be with someone else during this meeting so like a friend/family member will be there. It doesn't seem like a one-on-one meeting. It's unlikely that sparks will fly during this first meeting but I would say to give this person a chance and don't disregard them completely. While for some it is possible that this may not even turn into romance in the end, this person will be very beneficial to you somehow like could help you open doors for careers/give you a lot of advice/help you in some way/be very close to you.

#6

You will likely meet them while you are attending a concert, theatre, movie, ballet, etc - some sort of arts-related event. You might also have a bad impression of them when you first meet like they cut in front of you or they talk really loudly during the performance or block your view. You're likely going to either be by yourself at this attendance or with a group of friends. If you're with a group of friends then you're likely to join their group of friends. If you're by yourself, you could confront them or someone in their group somehow. They, on the other hand, will likely attend this event with a group of friends.

It's even possible that you will have attended the same event but don't realize until much later.

You're unlikely to keep contact with them after this attendance or even realize they existed then, but then you will somehow bump into them later. It could be like days later, months later, or even a year to a couple of years later. Somehow they will be in your life later like they could become a new employee at the firm you work in or a new student at your school or your new boss or somehow work at a place you often frequent.

[suddencolds]

Atypical Occurrence [2/?]

hello!! 10 drafts and (exactly) 3 months later, I am finally back with part 2 of Atypical Occurrence 😭 You can read part 1 here!

This chapter is a little personal to me. I don't tend to linger on writing scenes like this (in part because they are a little difficult for me), so it took awhile to hammer out the dynamic I wanted. That said, here it is at long last!!

This is an OC fic ft. Vincent and Yves. Here is a list of everything I’ve written for these two! :)

—

Summary: Vincent shows up late to a meeting. It just goes downhill from there. (ft. fake dating, the flu, a house visit, and certain revelations)

—

There’s a grocery store that’s a ten minute drive from Vincent’s apartment. Yves picks out ingredients for chicken soup, two different kinds of cold and flu medicine, a new pack of cough drops, a few boxes of tissues, a small thermometer. All in all, it’s less than a thirty minute excursion—something he’s done many times before in uni, where everyone seemed to catch something in the middle of exam season, and a house visit was just a short walk away.

Chicken noodle soup isn’t difficult. He’s made it a hundred times—he’s experimented with a dozen different variations of it. He puts the groceries in the fridge, washes the vegetables, and gets to work.

While the soup cooks, he half watches it, half busies himself with cleaning the apartment—loading up the dishwasher and hand washing everything that doesn’t fit, stocking the fridge and the medicine cabinet with the groceries he’s gotten, vacuuming the floors with a vacuum cleaner he finds tucked behind the fridge.

Then he shreds the chicken, chops a round of fresh vegetables to add to the broth, and waits.

 It’s comfortably quiet. Outside, rain drums steadily on the windowpane. It shows no signs of stopping soon. It’s dark enough outside—the sun fully set, the clouds heavy overhead—that the lit interior of the apartment kitchen feels like a warm reprieve.

Yves likes cooking. He doesn’t actively enjoy doing chores, but there’s something comforting to how mindless they are. It’s an appreciated distraction. 

The rain outside is loud enough that he doesn’t hear the footsteps, approaching, until Vincent clears his throat from behind him.

Yves jumps.

“You’re up,” he says, spinning on his heels to face him. Vincent looks a little worse for the wear—his hair a little messy, his shirt slightly rumpled from sleep, his glasses perched haphazardly in place.

Yves watches him take everything in—the pot on the stove, the chopping board set out on the counter, the empty paper bags from the grocery run flattened and stacked into neat rectangles.

“And you’re still here,” Vincent says.

“I made soup,” Yves says, by way of explanation. “It’s chicken noodle. I wasn’t sure if you’d be up for trying something new.” He reaches over to lift the lid off of the pot of soup. Steam wafts up from it, carrying with it the faint scent of the aromatics he’d added—thyme, bay leaf, garlic, peppercorns. “Actually, you picked a good time to wake up. I just added in the noodles, so it’s almost done.”

Vincent eyes the pot, his expression unreadable. “Did you leave to get groceries?”

“Earlier, yeah. You weren’t kidding about your fridge being empty.”

Vincent frowns. “I can pay you back. Did you keep the receipt?”

In truth, the price of the groceries is the last thing on Yves’s mind right now. He waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

“It must have taken a long time.”

“Soup is pretty forgiving. You just toss everything into a pot of boiling water and wait. It’s barely any work at all.”

Vincent stares at him for a moment longer. Then he says: “That’s an oversimplification.”

“Not really. Besides, I enjoy cooking,” Yves says. “Thanks for letting me use your kitchen—though, technically, I guess I’m asking forgiveness instead of permission. I’ll clean everything up, by the way.” He’s done dishes along the way, so there isn’t really much to do besides rinse off whatever’s left, load up the dishwasher, and store whatever’s left of the soup in the fridge.

“You don’t have to,” Vincent says, before turning into his elbow with a few harsh, grating coughs. “I can clean up. It’s my apartment.”

“If you think I’m letting you do household chores while you have a fever—”

“It’s not that high,” Vincent interrupts, perhaps a little stubbornly. Yves lets out a disbelieving laugh. He leans over the counter, shifts his weight forwards on his feet to press the back of his hand to Vincent’s forehead.

It’s concerningly hot, still, which isn’t a surprise. Though perhaps the way Vincent blinks, a little tiredly, and leans forward into Yves’s hand is a giveaway on its own.

“It’s definitely over a hundred,” Yves says, withdrawing his hand. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll have you know that I bought a thermometer.”

For a moment, Vincent looks surprised. Then he sighs. “That was an unnecessary purchase.”

“Are you admitting that I’m right?”

Vincent just frowns at him, which—Yves notes—isn’t exactly a denial. “Fever or not, there’s not much I can do except sleep it off.”

“You can go back to sleep after you’ve had something to eat,” Yves says. “What was it that you said? That you haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday?”

“...You won’t leave unless I eat, then,” Vincent says. He says it evenly enough that it barely registers as a question.

Yves smiles at him. It’s not a wrong conclusion. “Exactly,” he says.

—

In between the hallway and Vincent’s kitchen is a small dining area, furnished with a high table and two high chairs. Yves waits until the noodles are cooked just enough. Then he turns off the stove, unrolls a placemat to lay out on the dining table, and carries the pot over.

He gets everything he needs: two bowls, two spoons, some of the fresh parsley he’d chopped earlier, for garnish—and lays it all out.

“I can help,” Vincent says, for maybe the third time. 

He’s seated on one of the chairs, which Yves had pointedly pulled out for him, looking like he’s perhaps a few seconds away from getting out of his seat and doing everything himself. It’s just like Vincent, Yves thinks, to offer to help—even at work, aside from all the work he takes on, it feels like he’s always finding some way or other to be useful. 

Yves says, “When you’re not running a fever, you can ask me again.”

When everything is laid out, he pulls up a chair for himself, so he can sit across from Vincent—who is still perched on his seat, though he looks a little less like he wants to get out of it. “You didn’t have to wait for me,” Yves says.

Vincent blinks at him. “It would have been rude to get started on my own.”

“Nonsense,” Yves says. “I made it for you.”

He takes a bite. The soup tastes fine. That is, it tastes the same as every other time he’s made it—light and comforting. It’s just one of those recipes Yves thinks he can make in his sleep. Nothing about it is particularly inventive. Still, he hasn’t cooked for Vincent before—not formally, at least, other than the dish he’d bought to Joel’s potluck—so it’s a little nerve-wracking to watch Vincent take a bite. 

It’s worse, still, to watch his eyes widen by a fraction. For a moment, Yves wonders if he’s done something wrong—if perhaps, it isn’t to Vincent’s taste, after all. He sets his spoon down. “Is it okay?”

“It’s really good,” Vincent says. “I can see why Mikhail said what he said.” 

“What?”

“That your cooking was half the reason why he roomed with you.”

Yves laughs. “So does that mean you’ll forgive me for trespassing?” 

Vincent smiles back at him. “I’ll consider it.” Now, with his glasses off, Yves can see his eyes a little more clearly—they’re slightly red-rimmed, his eyelashes long and dark, his cheeks flushed brighter with fever. There’s a little crease at the edge of his eyes which shows up when he smiles.

Yves is caught off guard, for a moment. The tightness in his chest is nothing, he tells himself. Certainly not a crush that he shouldn’t be allowed to have. 

A crush. That’s new, too. It’s ironic, considering the terms of their fake relationship. He thinks it’s probably supposed to make him better at this—what better way to feign romantic interest than to not have his feelings be so fake, after all?—but instead, he finds himself at an uncharacteristic loss for words, finds himself stumbling over the most basic of pleasantries. 

Of course, he has no intention of acting on his feelings. Vincent is attractive, yes—but he’s also considerate, and attentive, and hardworking enough to go early and stay late, to take on work he doesn’t get credit for. He’s thoughtful enough to entertain Yves’s friends, to have lunch with Yves’s siblings, to fly all the way to France to meet Yves’s family.

But all of that is inconsequential. None of it is going to amount to anything, because Yves knows how to keep his distance. Because Yves needs this—the perks of their fake relationship—more than he needs to indulge in any inconvenient crush. Because he knows enough to know how things would turn out if he were to say something.

That’s the thing. Vincent isn’t cruel. It’s for that reason, precisely, that Yves knows that he’d drop this arrangement immediately if he knew. Vincent would never string him along knowingly, and that’s what makes this so much worse—Yves has gone and gotten himself stupidly attached. 

Now that they’re sitting across from each other, in Vincent’s apartment, having dinner, Yves thinks—a little selfishly, perhaps—that this is the best that he can ask for. It is all that he can ask for. Far better to keep up the pretense entirely, far better to pretend that this is all just for show. When they put an end to this arrangement—someday, inevitably—Yves will thank Vincent for everything, and then they’ll go their separate ways. He already knows how it will go. There is no need to complicate things.

It’s quiet, for some time. Yves finishes his bowl first, heads over to the sink to rinse it off, and positions it neatly in the lowest compartment of the dishwasher. When he gets back, Vincent is spooning more soup into his bowl. Yves allows himself to feel a little relieved to see that he has an appetite.

“It’s been awhile,” Vincent says, after some time. “Since anyone’s done this for me.”

“Made you chicken soup?” Yves says, a little puzzled. “If you want the recipe, I can give it to you. I make it all the time.”

“No,” Vincent says. His expression is unparseable. “Just— since anyone’s looked after me, in general.”

“Oh.” Yves finds his mind is spinning. “How long have you been living alone?”

“Since university. I had suitemates, in my second year. Then I got an apartment of my own.”

“Because you like the privacy?”

“It was just simplest.”

Yves thinks back to his years, rooming with Mikhail—the conversations they’d have to have to figure out groceries, to alternate cooking dinner and doing dishes, to manage transportation. He has a studio apartment now, too, but he’s over at his neighbors’ house frequently enough, or otherwise at home with Leon and Victoire for dinner, so it doesn’t really get lonely.

“You have a pretty spacious kitchen,” he says. “I hope you don’t mind that I used your pots and pans. I’ll wash them, I swear.”

Vincent takes in a small, sharp breath. Yves looks up just in time to see him twist away from the table, tenting his hands over his nose and mouth.

“hhIHh’IIKTS-HHuhh-!”

“Bless you!” Yves exclaims. Judging by the way Vincent keeps his hands raised over his face, he assumes that there are going to be more. He rises from his seat, heads back into the kitchen in search for—ah. Six boxes of tissue boxes, stacked neatly into a block. He tears off the thin plastic film around them, removes a box from the pile, and pulls off the tab.

When he gets back to the dining table, Vincent is ducking into steepled hands with another—

“hhih’GKKT-SHHh-uuUh! hh��DDZSChh-HHuh! snf-Snf-! hhh… Hh… hh-HH-hh’yIIDDzsSHH-hHUH-!!”

The sneezes seem to scrape painfully against his throat, for the way he winces in their aftermath. He twists away from Yves to cough lightly, after, into his shoulder, his eyes watering. “Bless you!” Yves pushes the tissue box towards him. “Here.”

Vincent takes a tissue from the box, blows his nose quietly. When he emerges, lowering the tissue from his face, his eyes are a little watery. He eyes the tissue box. “Did you buy these earlier, too?”

“I did,” Yves says. “I picked up some medicine, too. I didn’t know what flavor you wanted, so I got a couple different kinds. And some other stuff—your fridge was getting pretty empty, by the way—in case you needed it.”

Vincent lifts his head to study him, as if there’s something he’s trying to understand. Finally, he says, “Do you do this for all of your friends?”

“What?”

Vincent frowns, as if the subject matter should be obvious. “Cook for them. Get groceries. Clean their apartment.”

“Sometimes,” Yves says. He’s certainly no stranger to stopping by to help—sometimes with homemade soup, or tea packed tightly in a thermos, or something else. Then again, that was easier to do back in uni, when everyone lived within a twenty minute radius. “It depends on what they need.”

“So this is just a Yves thing.”

“What? Showing consideration for my friends?” 

“Showing consideration is one thing,” Vincent answers. “You could have left after dropping off the files. You would still have been showing your consideration.”

“I guess that’s true. But at that point, I was already here,” Yves says, with a shrug. “It seemed logical to check up on you.”

“Well, now you’ve checked up on me,” Vincent says. “So you can go.”

Yves supposes this is true. 

“Do you want me to go?” he asks.

Vincent says, “It’s late. I assume you have things to get home to.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Yves says.

Vincent says nothing to that.

But Yves gets the message, even without him saying it. If Vincent is the type of person who prefers to be alone when sick, Yves won’t take it personally. He doesn’t want to overstay his welcome—arguably, he’s already stayed for much longer than Vincent had invited him to.

There’s leftover soup in the fridge—enough to last Vincent a couple days, hopefully through the worst of this—and Vincent’s apartment is reasonably well-stocked now. He has something to take if his fever gets any higher; he has all the basic supplies Yves could think of off the top of his head.

And Vincent is a lot of things, but he isn’t irresponsible. He’s shown himself to be self-sufficient more times than Yves can count. There’s no reason why Yves should have to stay and look after him for any longer—no reason, perhaps, aside from the fact that seeing Vincent ill has left him more worried than he’d like to admit.

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll go. But at least let me clean up first.”

He does dishes, leaves the cutting boards and the pot out to dry on the drying rack, transfers the soup to smaller glass containers to store it in the fridge. He returns the vacuum cleaner to the storage closet he found it in. Then, as promised, he gathers his things—not much, just his phone and his car keys—and heads toward the front door.

Vincent follows him to the door, presumably to lock it after he leaves. 

Yves steps outside, lingers for just a moment on the doorstep. The car is parked close enough that he hadn’t bothered to grab his umbrella, but now it’s dark out, and it’s raining just as hard. 

“I left new cough drops on the kitchen countertop,” Yves says, biding his time under the overhang until he inevitably has to get rained on. “The medicine’s in your bathroom, behind the mirror, with the thermometer. Everything else is either on the counter or in the fridge. Don’t come back to work until your fever’s completely—”

It happens in a moment: Vincent stumbles. Yves is looking at him, which means he sees the exact moment when it happens. Yves doesn’t think, just reacts—he reaches out to grab his arm to keep him from falling entirely. 

“Woah,” he says, steadying him. “Are you—”

Vincent’s hand is concerningly warm, even through the fabric of his sleeve. For a moment, he leans into Yves’s touch, though this seems less intentional as it is inevitable. He’s breathing heavily, his eyes tightly shut, his shoulders rising and falling not as soundlessly as usual.

Yves swallows past the alarm he feels percolating in his chest. Had he been about to pass out? Just how high is his fever right now? “Vincent—”

“Sorry,” Vincent manages, through gritted teeth. He makes an effort to regain his balance, to move away. He sways on his feet, and Yves feels the panic in his chest rise anew. 

He reaches up and slings an arm around his waist. “Hey,” he says, trying for reassuring. “I’ve got you.”

Vincent doesn’t say anything, to that. He just stands there, perfectly still, his eyebrows drawn together, his shoulders a little stiff under Yves’s touch. 

Without letting go of him, Yves shuts the front door gingerly behind him, toes his shoes off at the door again. “I think it would be best if you laid down,” he says. “Do you think you can walk?”

Vincent nods, slowly. Yves tracks the bob of his throat as he swallows. 

“Sorry,” Vincent says, again. “I… didn’t expect it to be an issue.”

He’s frowning, hard, as if he’s upset with himself, though Yves can’t quite piece apart why he’d have reason to be. “Hey, no apologizing,” Yves says. “Save your energy for walking.”

Vincent seems to understand that their current arrangement will not change until he’s in bed, so he lets Yves steer him towards the bedroom. It’s a short walk—down the hallway and then off to the left—but Yves spends half of it distracted by how warm Vincent is. Like this, he practically radiates heat.

It’s not until Vincent is settled on his bed, the blankets pulled loosely over him, that Yves allows himself to let go.

Truthfully, the last thing he wants to do right now is leave. But it isn’t about what he wants, and perhaps Vincent would sleep better if he did.

“Are you warm enough?” Yves asks. The words feel heavy on his tongue.

A nod. 

“Do you need me to get you anything else?”

Vincent shakes his head.

“Okay,” Yves says. “I guess I shouldn’t overstay my welcome, then.”

Vincent will be fine, he tells himself. At the end of the day, they are only coworkers, and Vincent is one of the most independent people he knows. If Vincent doesn’t want him here, the best Yves can do is comply with his wishes. He straightens. “Text me if you need anything, I mean it.”

He lets go of the blanket, rises to his feet. Only, then—

There’s a hand on his sleeve, tugging.

Yves goes very still.

When Vincent notices what he’s done, alarm flashes through his expression, and he pulls his hand away as if he’s burned. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs, again. And just like that, he’s back to how he always is—his expression perfectly, carefully neutral, in a way that can only be constructed. “I’m sorry.” But Yves doesn’t forget what he’s seen. “You can go.”

Yves’s heart aches. He settles back at the edge of the bed, reaches out a hand, settles it gently at the edge of Vincent’s forehead. At the physical contact, Vincent’s breath catches.

And for a second, Yves wonders if he’s made a mistake—if maybe Vincent doesn’t want to be touched, right now. If he’s misread the situation; if Vincent wants him to go, after all. He opens his mouth to apologize.

But then Vincent shuts his eyes. The tenseness to his expression eases, almost imperceptibly, his eyebrows unfurrowing. Oh, Yves realizes. His head must hurt—Yves suspected as much—but if he’s not mistaken, the expression on Vincent’s face right now is…

Relief. Cautiously, Yves traces his fingertips lightly over the edge of Vincent’s temple, combs them slowly through his hair. Vincent’s eyes stay shut, but the furrow to his eyebrows loosens, and his jaw unclenches, just a bit. The change is minute, almost imperceptible. If Yves weren’t paying close attention, he might’ve missed it.

As if he could pay attention to anything else, right now.

Tentatively, Yves cards his fingers through Vincent’s hair, traces slow circles into his scalp, slowly, carefully.  He does it until the heartbeat he feels thrumming under his fingertips—quick and erratic—slows. Until Vincent’s breathing evens out, until the hurt in his expression dulls. Until the tension in his shoulders eases.

By the time he finally withdraws his hand, Vincent is fast asleep. Yves fetches a new glass of water for his nightstand, changes out the plastic bag lining the trash can, and lines the cough drops and medicine up at the edge of Vincent’s desk. He flips through folder 2-A, assessing.

Then he heads back out to his car to get his laptop, and gets to work.

—

He doesn’t remember falling asleep.

But when he wakes at Vincent’s desk, it’s to an unpleasant ache in his neck that spreads laterally into his shoulders—probably from sleeping with his head pillowed awkwardly against his arms. He lifts his head. 

Behind him, there’s a weak, uncertain breath, and then the sort of cough that makes Yves’s chest hurt in sympathy. It sounds wrong, somehow—too quiet, for its proximity. Muffled.

It’s dark inside, aside from the faint glow of Vincent’s digital alarm clock, the pale green digits cutting into the black. He hears the rustling of blankets, followed by another short, painful intake of breath.

The sneeze that follows is stifled into something. Even stifled, it sounds uncharacteristically harsh—all force, pinched off into a short, muffled outburst which sounds barely relieving, at best.

“hH’ih’iNNGKkk-t!”

Yves blinks. Then he leans over the desk to flick on the lamp. Dull golden light suffuses the desk, bright enough to cast Vincent in form and graying color. 

“Are you okay?”

At the light, Vincent’s eyes widen. He looks—stricken, somehow. Then his expression shutters, and he frowns. “Did I—” he stops to cough again into his fist. It sounds as though each breath he’s taking in is an effort of its own, shallow and unsatisfying. When he speaks again, his voice sounds noticeably hoarser. “—Did I wake you?”

Yves opens his mouth to respond. Before he can think up a convincing excuse, Vincent shakes his head dejectedly, as if he already knows the answer.

“Sorry,” he says. “I was - cough, cough - tryidg to be quiet.”

Quiet. As to not wake Yves, presumably. The revelation causes an ache to settle somewhere deep inside of him, heavy and inexorable. Yves is more than certain that this flu is already miserable enough on its own, even without the added challenge of having to be quiet about it. He wants to say, do you really think that’s what matters to me? He wants to ask, how long have you been up dealing with this on your own?

“You don’t have to be quiet,” is all he manages, instead.  It’s a miracle that his voice manages to come out as evenly as it does.

Vincent looks like he’s about to say something. But before he has a chance to, he twists away to cough harshly into his shoulder. Now that he doesn’t make an attempt to muffle the coughing fit, Yves can hear just how harsh it sounds. 

It’s the kind of coughing fit that just sounds exhausting—forceful enough to leave tears brimming at the edges of his eyelashes, his breaths coming in shallowly. 

“Can I get you anything?” Yves asks, when Vincent is done coughing.

Vincent just looks back at him, unmoving. In the dim light of the desk lamp, he looks perhaps more exhausted than Yves has ever seen him—really, he looks as though he hasn’t slept at all. He’s seated with his back against the headboard with a blanket pulled around his shoulders. One of his hands is clenched loosely around it, pinning the corners in place. 

“Tea?” Yves offers, because it’s better than saying nothing. “Water, cough drops. A cold compress?” Vincent doesn’t say anything, but Yves thinks, a little helplessly, that there must be something he can do. “Extra blankets? Tissues? Ibuprofen?”

“Water… would be nice,” Vincent says, as if it takes a lot out of him to admit it. Yves blinks, surprised—he had half expected no answer at all. At Yves’s split second of hesitation, Vincent’s frown deepens, his grip around the blankets tightening slightly. “...If it’s not too much trouble.”

Yves has never gotten out of his seat faster. “Of course,” he says. “I’ll be right back.” he swipes the empty glass from the nightstand and heads out into the hallway.

It’s dark. There aren’t many windows in the hallway to let in light from outside, but once he gets to the dining room, it gets easier to see. Judging by how dark it is outside, there are probably a few hours left until sunrise. It’s still early, then. Early enough that it’s quiet, around them—no traffic out on the streets, save for the occasional car, headed to who-knows-where; no neighbors going about their early morning routines; just the steady trickle of rain on the windowsill. Yves rinses the cup out in the sink, shakes it dry, and fills it again.

When he makes it back to the bedroom, it’s unusually quiet. Vincent is still sitting at the edge of his bed, looking like he hasn’t moved at all since Yves left the room.

Yves crosses the room to hand him the glass. Vincent blinks up at him, a little blearily.

“I got you water,” Yves says, unnecessarily.

Vincent takes the glass from him with both hands, as if he doesn’t quite trust himself to hold it with just one. Yves looks away as he drinks.  

When Vincent lowers the glass at last, Yves takes it from him and sets it back into place onto the bedside table. He straightens, turns to face Vincent again. “Any better now?”

Vincent nods. It’s quiet, for a moment. Outside, the rain has nearly stopped—the room is soundless, aside from the thin whirring of the air conditioning. “I didn’t think you’d still be here.” 

Yves hums. “To be honest, I didn’t either.” He stifles a yawn into one hand—he’s still a little tired. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“You must be tired,” Vincent frowns, looking him over. “You came right from a full day of work to check on me. Does your neck hurt?” 

“What?”

Vincent inclines his head towards his desk. “I’ve fallen asleep there before. It’s not very comfortable.”

Yves thinks he shouldn’t be surprised, at this point, that Vincent has picked up on something so subtle. “It’s not that bad,” he says, reaching up with a hand to massage his neck. “My neck would probably be sorer if I’d slept through the whole night. I should thank you for waking me.”

“You could’ve taken the couch instead,” Vincent says, a little disapprovingly. “It would probably have been wiser.”

“I wanted to be here so I could keep an eye on you,” Yves says, because it’s true. “Besides, you sat in a chair while I slept in France. That can’t have been comfortable either.”

“It’s not just about that. You—” Vincent raises a hand up to his face, ducks into his wrist for a sudden: “hh-! hhiH’GKT-sSHuh! snf-!” He sniffles, then presses the wrist closer to his face, his expression shuttering. “Hh…  hh’IIDDZshH’Uhh-!” 

“Bless you!” Yves says, startled.

Vincent blinks, a little teary-eyed, turning over his shoulder to muffle a few harsh coughs into his wrist. “You shouldn’t have slept so close to me. I really don’t want you to catch this.”

He’s frowning, as if it really is a big deal. As if even now, even shivering and feverish, it’s somehow Yves that he’s more worried about right now.

Yves isn’t particularly concerned about that—he has no shortage of  sick time to take off of work, in any case. If he does manage to catch this from Vincent, he’ll just stock up on essentials before the worst of it hits. It would be nothing he hasn’t done before. Still, Vincent looks so—well, so tornby the mere possibility of it that Yves wants to say something to comfort him.

“How about this?” he says. “If you’re so worried about it, you can buy me cough drops next time I come down with something, deal? Then we’ll be even.”

Vincent’s eyebrows furrow. “That’s a terrible deal for you.”

“I’ll get sick at some point in my life, anyways,” Yves says, with a shrug. “If this means I get free cough drops out of it, I’d say it’s a win.”

He moves the desk chair over so he can sit down at the edge of Vincent’s bed. Vincent watches him, uncertain. He looks like he’s resisting the urge to say something—to tell Yves to move further away, probably.

“Relax,” Yves says, reflexively. “It’ll be fine, seriously. I know what I signed up for.” 

He leans forward, presses the back of his hand against Vincent’s forehead. Vincent closes his eyes. A slight tremor passes through his shoulders at the contact, but aside from that, he stays perfectly still.

“Your fever’s worse than before,” Yves says, withdrawing his hand.

“It’s not.” Vincent’s eyes are still shut. “The temperature is just higher because it’s night time.”

The suggestion is so far from comforting that Yves almost laughs. “You know,” he says, “that’s not very reassuring.” The blanket around Vincent’s shoulders starts to slip, so Yves reaches over and snags an edge of it, fluffs the whole thing outwards to lay it neatly around Vincent’s shoulders, like a cloak. Secures it with a loose knot. “Are you feeling any better than before?”

Vincent does open his eyes, now. He looks as though he’s trying hard to figure out how acceptably he can lie. “I…”

“You can be honest.”

Vincent’s jaw clenches. He reaches up with one hand, his fingers curling around the blanket Yves set down around him.

“My head feels heavy,” he says. He screws his eyes shut, his eyebrows furrowing. “And my chest hurts.” He lets out a short, frustrated breath, as if every sentence is a new and difficult admission. “I’m… not used to getting sick like this.”

Yves’s hands still. “Like what?”

“In any way that would necessitate taking time off from work,” Vincent says, looking away. The discomfort sits, plainly and indisputably, in the way he holds himself—his shoulders stiff, his jaw clenched—everything a little too tense, despite his exhaustion.

Yves stares at him for a moment, considering. In the end, it’s the small, impulsive thought that wins out.

He takes a seat at the edge of the bed, next to Vincent. The mattress dips under his weight. 

Vincent has always been taller than him, but sitting down like this, they nearly see eye to eye. It’s a risk, of course, to offer this. He and Vincent haven’t been physically intimate outside of the times where they’ve had to prove their relationship to an audience. But when he thinks back to how Vincent reacted to Yves feeling his forehead, or Yves carding his hands through his hair—if he hasn’t misread, it almost feels like—

Yves opens his arms out in offering, tries on a smile. “I’ve been told I give good hugs. Good enough to cure all ailments, obviously.”

For a moment, Vincent stays perfectly still. Yves has five seconds to overthink all of his actions over the past twenty four hours. 

Then Vincent inches closer, ever so slightly, to lean his head on Yves’s shoulder.

Yves curls his arms around him. There’s the slightest hitch in Vincent’s breath, at the contact. Then the stiffness seeps out of his shoulders, and he presses a little closer—as if he’s allowed himself permission, at last, to let go.

His whole body is concerningly warm. “You’re burning up,” Yves says, softly. He reaches up with one hand to run his fingers through Vincent’s hair.

“...I figured,” Vincent says. The next breath he takes comes in a little shakily. “Whoever gave you the review was right. You are a good hugger.”

Yves laughs, a little surprised. “Careful. You’re going to inflate my ego if you keep talking.”

“I can’t help it if it’s true.”

Yves has hugged a fair share of people in his life. He doesn’t think he’d be able to list them all if he were asked to. It’s different, though, being so close to Vincent—so close that Yves can reach out and let his hair fall through his fingertips. He can lift up his palm and feel the rigid line of his spine, the slope of his shoulders; he could reach out and trace the dip of his wrist, the form of his hand. Vincent’s chin digs slightly into his left shoulder. His nose is turned slightly into Yves’s neck—like this, he is almost perfectly still. Yves can feel the warm brush of air against his neck whenever Vincent exhales. He is so close that Yves is afraid, for a moment, that he might hear how badly his heart is racing.

Would dating Vincent be like this? Would this kind of exchange be given and received as easily as anything? Yves wills himself not to think about it. This is nothing, he tells himself, but a simple offering of comfort between friends. To think otherwise would be disingenuous.

They stay like that for some time. Time slows, or perhaps it expands or collapses—really, Yves would be none the wiser. The whir of the ceiling fan and the light rain on the rooftop a constant. When Vincent pulls away at last, it’s to turn sharply off to the side to muffle a sneeze into his sleeve.

“Hh-! hhIH’IIDZsSHM-FF! snf-!” 

“Bless you,” Yves says, blinking. The sudden absence of warmth is a little jarring. But Vincent isn’t done.

His eyebrows draw together, and he ducks tighter into his elbow, his shoulders jerking forward. “hHIH’iiGKKTsSHH—! Sorry, I— Ihh-! hHHh’DZZSSCHh—uH-!”

“Bless you again,” Yves says, reaching past him to hand over the box of tissues on the nightstand. He holds out the box for Vincent to take.

Vincent turns away to blow his nose. When he returns, he’s a little teary eyed. The flush on the bridge of his nose hasn’t gone away.

“When I asked you to come over,” he says, “I wasn’t expecting you to stay.”

Yves blinks. “Is it so strange for me to be here?”

To that, Vincent is quiet, for a moment. Yves looks out the window, where he can see the skyline, off in the distance, the dark form of the apartment building across the streets, the street in between lit dimly with golden streetlights.

“A little,” he says. “When I was young, if I got sick, it wasn’t really a big deal.”

At Yves’s expression, he amends: “That’s not to say that my family didn’t care, because they did. No one spent too long in my room—better to not risk catching it, if they could help it—but back then, if I didn’t have much stomach room, my mom always cut fruits for me to leave on my desk. Sometimes she made ginseng tea, too.” he shuts his eyes. There’s a strange expression on his face—something a little more complicated than wistfulness.

“We had a habit of keeping the heat off, in the winters, and closing the windows. But if I was running a fever, my brother always made sure to keep the heat on.” His lip twitches, almost imperceptibly. Then: the smallest of smiles. “Sometimes he’d stay outside my door to talk about his day. He was the class lead, back when he was in high school. It was always something inconsequential, like which of his classmates he liked and which ones he held a grudge against, and why. Almost always for the smallest reasons, like someone borrowing a pencil and forgetting to give it back, or someone tossing the ball to him in gym class.”

“Were you and your brother close?” Yves asks.

“Close is relative,” Vincent says. “I never really knew how to—inhabit his world, I guess. When I moved to the states, and when I decided to stay here, part of it was out of some sort of defiance. I didn’t want to have to follow in his footsteps, because then I could only ever be focused on doing things differently.”

He shuts his eyes. “But I felt close to him, then. When he stood outside my room and told me those stories. Even if they were things I wouldn’t have cared about had they happened to me, I guess. It’s strange how that works.”

“I think I know what you mean,” Yves says. He’s always had a good relationship with Leon and Victoire, though that doesn’t mean they’ve always seen eye to eye on things. “Sometimes it’s less about what they say, and more about the fact that they’re saying it.”

Vincent nods. “They all cared about me in their own way,” he says, at last. “I don’t think I appreciated the extent of it at the time. When you’re a kid, you tend to take everything at face value.”

“Do you regret it?” Yves asks. “What?”

“Not appreciating them more, back then.”

Vincent smiles. “I was just a kid. I suppose it’s natural that I didn’t know better.” Yves has a feeling that that statement is perhaps further reaching than Vincent is making it out to be. “I didn’t think much about it at the time.”

“Do you ever miss being part of a large household?”

“It’s peaceful on my own,” Vincent says, at last. “I usually don’t mind it. I usually have other things to worry about.”

He hasn’t asked if the information is useful to Yves, Yves realizes, a little belatedly. Back then, at Joel and Cherie’s potluck, Vincent had seemed to believe that the only way Yves could possibly be interested in him was if the information could serve their fake relationship, somehow.

The realization settles him. Perhaps Vincent has shared this because he knows Yves cares.

“Your apartment is nice,” Yves says, trying to ignore the insistent beat of his heart in his chest, which all of a sudden seems to want to make itself known. “I can see why you would like living here.”

Vincent tilts his head up towards the ceiling. “It’s not the same, of course. As home. Though that’s a given.” Yves notes the usage of the word: home. Here, instead of home, the clarifier salient, even though Vincent’s done nothing to emphasize it. Could it be that after all these years, Vincent still considers Korea to be home, for him? “When I’ve had people over, it was just for dinner. Not for…”

He looks over to Yves, now. Yves knows what he means, knows how to fill in the rest of the sentence: not for the reason you’re here, now.

“I know I’ve intruded a little,” Yves says, with a laugh.

Vincent frowns at him, his eyebrows furrowing. “I wouldn’t consider it an intrusion,” he says. “You’ve helped me a lot. I just—I’m a little embarrassed that your first time over had to be under these circumstances.”

Your first time over. Yves ignores—well, tries to ignore—the implication that this could be the first out of many. That he might have another opportunity, in the future, to swing by. Vincent hasn’t confirmed anything, and it’s not likely that their fake dating arrangement would warrant another house visit, out of the public’s eye. Yves tells himself that the warmth he feels in his chest is misplaced.

“You don’t have to worry about that. I like seeing you,” Yves says.

Vincent raises an eyebrow at him. “Even bedridden with a fever?”

Isn’t it obvious? “Of course.”

“I’ve been terrible company,” Vincent says. “And even worse of a host. I recall I fell asleep yesterday, only for you to spend two hours cleaning my apartment?”

“Vacuuming is therapeutic.”

“You said that about cooking, too,” Vincent says, narrowing his eyes. “Am I supposed to believe that you enjoy doing all household chores?”

“It’s not like you made me do them. I just wanted to be useful, and your vacuum was easy to find.”

“I’ll be sure to hide it thoroughly next time,” Vincent says, deadpan.

Yves laughs. “It’s like I said,” he says. “I like spending time with you. Even—” To steal Vincent’s words from earlier. “—bedridden with a fever.”

Vincent huffs a sigh, a little incredulously. 

“Though, I promise I won’t intrude for much longer,” Yves tells him. “I’ll probably head out in the morning.” He’s almost done with the work Vincent has on his desk—he’d fallen asleep checking over one of the income statements for discrepancies. A few hours should be enough time to make sure that everything is in order. He still has work at eight—he’ll probably be a little tired for it, considering how late he’d slept, but that’s nothing new.

“I’m sorry,” Vincent says, averting his glance. He frowns down at himself, as if he really is apologetic. “You must’ve had other evening plans.”

None as important as taking care of you, Yves catches himself thinking. He can’t say things like that if he wants to keep this—well, this unfortunate recent development, i.e., his feelings for Vincent—to himself.

“It wasn’t just for you,” he says, instead.

“What?”

“I didn’t just do it for you.”

Vincent blinks at him, a little confused. “Are you going to say you get personal gratification out of seeing my apartment clean?”

“It’s like you said,” he says. “I’ve never seen you this unwell. You said this doesn’t happen often, right? When you didn’t show up at work, I…” The next admission feels a little too honest—but there’s a small, unwise part of him that wants to get it across, regardless. “I was really worried. Even though you said you had everything covered, I wanted to make sure you were fine.”

Vincent nods. “I get it. It would be an inconvenience if I were unfit to be your fake—”

“It has nothing to do with that,” Yves interrupts him. His heart hurts a little, with it. “I wanted to see that you were fine because I care about you. To be honest, I think I would’ve spent the entire night worrying if I hadn’t come.” He laughs, a little self-deprecatingly. “It’s a little selfish, I know.”

Vincent’s eyes are very wide.

“Anyways,” Yves says, with the sinking feeling that he’s said too much, “you should try to get some more sleep.” He rearranges the blankets around Vincent, a little unnecessarily, fluffs the extra pillow that’s leaned up against the headboard, and turns away. “It’s still really early. If you’re planning to be back in office next week, it would be best to keep your sleep schedule intact.”

“Yves,” Vincent says, from behind him.

“Hmm?”

“...Thank you.” 

When Yves works up the courage to look over, Vincent is smiling, unreservedly, as if something Yves has said has made him very happy.

Yves’s heart stutters in his chest. Fuck.

(On second thought, it might not be so easy to live with these feelings, after all.)

—

At daybreak, Yves drives home to get changed, takes a quick shower while he’s at it, and heads off for work. He yawns through half his morning meetings, adds an extra espresso shot to the coffee he snags from the break room.

The text arrives halfway through the day, just before he’s intending to head downstairs for lunch.

V: When I asked you to bring folder 2-A, I didn’t mean for you to complete my work along with it.

Yves smiles. He’d emailed Vincent the completed work from yesterday’s late-night work session before he’d left. Vincent must’ve seen it.

Y: some genie i met told me your wish was to have your work done before the deadline

V: What are you talking about?

Y: he also told me you were very stubborn about not redistributing your assignments to anyone else  Y: so you can’t blame me for taking matters into my own hands

V: Yves.

Y: feel free to check it over for errors :)

[noahsresources]

SLEEP-RELATED HEADCANONS !

1.what size bed does your muse typically prefer to sleep on? (ex. twin, full, queen, etc) 2. does your muse find it easier to sleep in a warmer room or a cooler room? 3. is your muse typical about where they sleep or can they fall asleep just about anywhere? 4. what position does your muse usually sleep in? 5. does your muse tend to prefer firmer mattresses or plushier ones? 6. does your muse snore? do they sleep talk or make any other sounds in their sleep? 7. is your muse a still or active sleeper? do they move around a lot in their sleep? 8. does your muse typically prefer sleeping by themselves or do they prefer the comfort of having another person in the room with them? 9. does your muse like sharing a bed, or do they prefer to have their own space? 10. how many pillows does your muse sleep with? are they comfortable with just one or do they like to be cozy? 11. what type of blanket does your muse prefer (standard blanket, quilt, comforter, weighted blanket, etc)? 12. how long does it typically take for your muse to fall asleep? 13. how often does your muse dream? are they mostly pleasant or is their sleep more likely to be filled with nightmares? 14. does your muse take any sleeping aids (ex. pills, melatonin supplements, etc)? 15. how many hours of sleep does your muse typically get? 16. does your muse wake up in the middle of the night often or can they sleep through the night? 17. does your muse like to take naps during the day? how often and for how long? 18. does your muse have insomnia? have they ever experienced insomnia? to what degree of severity? 19. has your muse ever been diagnosed with any sleep disorders? 20. does your muse have any pre-bedtime rituals or routines (like facial care, meditation, shower, medications, etc)? do they have any pre-bedtime activities like reading, playing video games, going on their phone, etc? 21. does your muse wear a sleep mask? 22. is your muse sensitive to light while they sleep, or do they not mind it? 23. does your muse prefer to sleep in complete silence or hear some kind of background noise? 24. does your muse listen to music while falling asleep? 25. are their any conditions in where your muse absolutely cannot fall asleep (ex. bug in the room, temperature, smell, etc)? 26. does your muse have any odd or atypical sleeping habits? 27. what does your muse typically like to wear to bed? does it depend on the season/weather outside? 28. does your muse tend to wake up with bedhead? 29. does your muse have any routines they follow when they wake up (like makeup, facial care, stretching, shower, medications, etc)? do they have any activities they like to do immediately after waking up? 30. how long does it typically take your muse to wake up in the morning? can they make it by without coffee or do they need caffeine? 31. does your muse wake up hungry or do they need some time to feel hungry? 32. what is your muse's mood like when they wake up? are they grumpy, cheerful, confused, etc? 33. when sharing a bed with someone else, is your muse a cuddler? 34. has your muse ever cried themselves to sleep? 35. where was the weirdest place your muse has fallen asleep? 36. has your muse ever fallen asleep or been extremely tired in a situation where it isn't safe to be (ex. while driving)?

[ladyluscinia]

I know my last experience with a season ending on a note everyone hated and unanimously tore to fucking shreds for destroying the story on every level was... atypical. Lockdown. 6 month mass hysteria at minimum. Conspiracy theories that were, like, real things we had on camera. There was a Twitter wedding. Creative fervor that broke 100k fics on AO3.

Like. I know this is not a rational point of comparison and I'm not going to expect anything in my lifetime to match it 🤣

But.

If that was the highest high of post-season fandom engagement built on a cocktail of tasting everything you ever wanted AND the absolutely lethal levels of spite and swearing to eat showrunners' hearts in the marketplace, then whatever the fuck is going on after OFMD S2 is the opposite of that.

OFMD S1 was a huge fandom explosion. One silly little streaming show that had a gay kiss and then it skyrocketed. Fic numbers were soaring, high activity fic and meta engagement lasted for at least four months, it was constantly trending and flooding the dash... Like, fucking hell, over a year and a half after the immediate finale fervor it beat Stucky in the top ships bracket?!? To the point I was willing to give it what felt like due credit toward its potential as a future juggernaut ship. Not guaranteed, of course, but the potential was there.

In that context, new content should be a blow out party. Which it kinda was pulling off as it was airing, but looking back now? Not even quite a month later?

The effect of S2 on the fandom is like... a blip. Possibly over already.

New fic numbers started dropping off the moment the finale aired and have returned to deep hiatus levels. It's dropped off trending and streaming leaderboards... I'm very curious to see the first tumblr Week in Review since the finale, though we're still waiting due to the holiday.

Like, I've even popped on to scroll a few Izzy hater blogs that I know loved the finale out of morbid curiosity what they were up to, and I'm telling you... if I hadn't just watched the new season I'd think they were still over a year into hiatus. Saw some standard bitching about the izcourse / Edward takes (aka the one thing that kept them going all hiatus), they're currently passing around posts mocking one specific long OFMD version of TJLC I'm just hearing of, the same BTS gifsets everyone else is thrilled by... But barely any new meta or discussions. There's like 2 people posting actual analysis of S2 that's getting reblogged and they aren't even names I recognize from the hiatus. Nor is it particularly interesting to read. 🤷‍♀️

In July of 2022 I could pop onto a random OFMD blog and scroll through a dozen enthusiastic Stede or BlackBonnet metas about jacket colors or that moth from 1x07 or lighthouse symbolism or whatever. Now the new stuff has the same energy as posts from June 2023. It's borderline dead. And this is what it's like when there's an active campaign to engage fandom and Renew as a Crew?

(I will say fanartists are bringing some energy and there's some lovely pieces being passed around, which I do think the Renew as a Crew campaign is helping to boost?)

Even the hundreds of people saying it was a beautiful season and they loved it so much don't seem to be finding it a very engaging or inspiring season.

It's such a turn, like, what the fuck.

[kerubimcrepin]

Wakfu Manga - Tome 1, Part 1

Finally, finally, finally we have arrived to one of my most favorite Wakfu media — the manga that happens between Season 2 and the OVAs, which are controversial among many, and beloved only by me and only for, like, 2-3 scenes.

The reason for my excitement is simple: this is the Krosmoz media that is the most abundant in adult Joris content at this moment.

The princesses got cursed again..., I don't even know what to say, man. They never learn.

[imagines Joris at 3-4yo trying to bite the nearest animal that isn't Pupuce the second Kerubim takes his eyes off him] [smiles]

I'm insane.

He is late. A likely thing for Joris Jurgen to be.

He came here. He saw a baby. He was like "aww. cute baby."

His nails.... This panel is the singular reason why I draw him with painted nails a lot, just so you know. Anyway.

Nobody expected him to come. And it makes no sense that he came, because he kind of barely knows these people. He is so fond of Yugo it's crazy.

He looks a bit taken aback by the fact he was seen being cute with a baby + that someone noticed that he is there (atypical) and happy that he came.

I think Joris has a very parasocial friendship with Yugo where he says nothing and just fucking stands there silently and menacingly, but is insanely fond of Yugo internally (I think he Projects onto Yugo. Yugo is just like him fr).

The casual way he just stands as Grougal sets him on fire. The way Yugo stares in horror. The way Joris just stands there, on fire, afterwards. I am going to cry from laughing.

Also, Amalia cares about him... I'm insane.

Adamai saying this combination of words to, out of all the people in the world that he could have said this to, Joris Crepin-Jurgen. Because he's scared that Grougal could have offended him...

Once again, this entire scene is so funny I'm actually going to fucking die.

He's so sweet... He really is like an awkward uncle who has no idea how to interact with kids when he visits them once in a while, but is happy to see them nevertheless.

Also, once again, his asocial nature and avoidance of close social bonds is called out. He's insane about Yugo and Adamai. They're just like him fr, y'know? (I bet he seldom visited Amalia's birthdays, and never came to Eva's... I'm insane about this man.)

Also, a small note: pay attention to the bag he is looking through. Here's why:

The fact that he kept an entire fishing pole in that bag makes me believe that Joris owns a haven bag.

Yes, literally nobody except for me cares about details like this, but let me have this.,

Also, I wish we could see his face as he gives this to Yugo. He's probably feeling shy about this. This is probably taking physical effort.

I blame this manga for making me care about the friendship between Khan and Joris even a little. fgsgsdfgsdfgsdfg

Clown-to-clown communication, clown-to-clown conversation.

As cute as it could have been, I really doubt Joris contributed to this gift.

It seems that nobody who was involved in the planning of the party was sure he would come, and when he did, he gave a singular gift to Yugo seperately from other people.

Joris went together with Alibert to get people to safety. Cute. Also the amount of hope and trust he has in Jiva is also cute.

Bontarian war criminal solidarity?

Awooga hummina hummina hummina weewoooweeewooo.

He's so cute.... Also, "Joris runs up towers" counter is up at 3. Yes, I count this as a tower.

[you can see my commentary actively degenerating due to my insanity] He is so handsome and so cute...

IM INSANE. IM CRAZEEEH. INSANE. ASYLUM.

Here are two panels that have the prettiest man in the world in them. The cute little fist clench...

[shopcat]

HI. this is the steve harrington autism post. source: i have the steve harrington style autism that makes me autistic about him

to preface this i would like to say i am working off of personal like interpretation and thru the lens of my own experience :0... also this is long lol <3 so, tl;dr, here are the autistic traits or things that are caused by autism i believe steve showcases, (except.. do read if you like <3):

sensory issues -> wearing only ever the same style of clothes, adjusting/touching his hair, (potentially) eating certain foods

stimming -> walking in place to think, fiddling with small objects, spinning/flipping/throwing objects to keep himself focussed or entertained, listening to music

scripting -> repeating phrases/words aloud and practicing what he's going to say, repeating the "plan" aloud

routine -> strict hair routine with specific steps, was in routine sports with strict rules/timing and enjoys them otherwise, driving robin to school every day without even knowing she couldn't bc it was routine, working jobs that require mindless but engaging tasks including organisation

poor grasp of social cues, especially with girls, and saying the "wrong" thing at the wrong time (including the 6 little nuggets speech, "he ate dustin's cat", confessing to robin, etc)

other people feeling like they have to tell him things he's "missed" socially (dustin telling him he likes robin, eddie telling him he likes nancy)

likes to set/follow rules and is upset when people deviate from them (i.e. max wanting to leave in s4)

out of-the-box/atypical/lateral thinking

delayed processing of thoughts/concepts/complicated subjects especially in high-intensity scenarios

picking up on small details (like background sounds in large areas or recognising something) that other people don't pick up on

fixating on certain things (hair, clothes/shoes, sports, etc)

high pain tolerance/sensory dysregulation (shaking off concussions/consistent, continued ability to function while severely injured)

inability to conceptualise his OWN mortality/safety and engaging in at risk situations with little thought other than instinct + making impulsive choices

developmental differences/delays (literally crawling backwards)

poor grades in school/not getting into college

trouble regulating emotion

poor self esteem due to feeling worthless :(

i also have adhd so i also keep this in mind a little and obv at the end of the day this is just my own interpretation + autism is a spectrum :) NOW. i will go into detail >:)

SOOO i'm not sure if steve was deliberately coded as autistic but i DO think they intentionally in one way or another coded him with a developmental disability of some kind!! which i will talk about first!!

this is shown particularly in season 2 in a couple different instances and continues into season 3 at undercurrent ..

we've discussed this a little before but i also think this is why when people like to just describe him as genuinely "dumb" it like hurts people's feelings 😭 my feelings... and that's not intentional ofc but while it is a personal insecurity of the character himself that is being ironically picked at, positively or not, by those who love him in fandom, it's also evident of something happening under the surface that people may be unaware of imo

i think he display a out of-the-box, atypical or lateral way of thinking combined with delayed processing in a way that is very typical to neurodivergent behaviour!! and more...

in season 2 we get a really nice little look into his psychology about it when nancy is reading his college admission essay (that he presumably asked her to do) and he's sitting there SO nervous and full of doubt and worked up about it he's like. basically twitching 😭

he says "it's crap i know" and nancy's like no it's not! and he's like "ugh it's not good..." sooo stressed out.. and nancy says it just needs some reorganising, which is INTERESTING!!! someone who is insecure in his own skills and inability to get his thoughts across in a succinct way + has good, complex ideas that translate poorly when he tries to explain it out loud or in text + a host of insecurities pre-rooted and explicitly about his own intellectual "failings" all = a very neurodivergent read of Steve Vs School i think

also, maybe a tangent, but: in that essay itself nancy says he starts by using one of his basketball games as a metaphor for his life, then he confuses the metaphor by comparing it to the war his grandfather was in. nancy says she doesn't see how they're connected and he's like "um. it connects because we both won" (i actually think she's being very sweet in this scene!! idg when ppl say she's mean here)

ik this wasn't the show's intention and just extrapolation but i find it really cool + interesting that there IS a war of some kind that steve could talk about that HE fought in, there is a description of high stakes combat where it's him VS them and he is the only one who now has to make this high stakes, risky choice, instead of playing it safe like he always does that relates directly to his life as a metaphor and he DOES feel connected to his grandfather in this sense...

but he can't actually talk about that. so it's basketball. and it's a slightly clunky metaphor that makes it seem like, trite, like oh silly steve, basketball isn't WAR. the essay itself is actually really well-written and evocative!! but to me signifies this inability to directly translate what he's thinking, hence it needs a little "rearranging", or maybe it's a little "all over the place" even

(also, that he crumpled up the entire essay and dismissed it entirely and fell back on nihilistic thinking and "i'll just work for my dad i guess". he already had cast disbelief upon his own ability to thrive because he feels he's not good enough :( )

his failing grades, which ended in not getting into college, tech or otherwise, is a big part of his post-highschool arc i think. to me it also shows sympathy to a problem many young neurodivergent (in every which way, btw) people face, including myself, and is potentially a really almost kind portrayal of the capability of a person not being wrapped up in their intellectual or i guess SCHOLASTIC endeavours and "achievements", and that you can be successful and "useful" to others in different ways :0

to call him dumb and really mean it (both in and out of show -_-) after all this is a certain kind of disservice i guess? like okay i think a little jokey joke is fine and also absolutely RELATING is fine (and another extension of another one of my points which is basically just "he's just like me fr" can actually = "he's JUST like me... like For Real". he's dumb in the way i'm dumb and we're both not actually dumb) but let's all be cool okayyyy

beyond school, i think he displays SOO many behaviours both characteristically and even like in his physicality that build to this beautiful conclusion... i think steve is this guy who was served up to be an initially one dimensional being who proved himself again and again to have a multitude of complexities beneath the surface :). i think his literal entire character arc is adjacent to the autistic experience LOL... perhaps...

he showcases a certain need and comfort in routine in a variety of ways, like:

being interested in sports both watching recreationally (which have timed matches and he HAS to be there on time, too) and as the hobby itself. sports are a high-routine activity with strict rules and rituals, before, after and during, as well as the extra work you have to put in otherwise!!

ESPECIALLY something like swimming, which is all about certain timing (and an individual-based sport as opposed to the team-based basketball) which he took for years!! (and actually got his cpr verification for, which you absolutely don't need to just like. be on the swim team. but it would be the "right" way to do it LOL) (also idk how it worked in 1980s fictional indiana but you need your verification a year in advance to actually do anything with it where i live!! which means he did it FROM freshman year)

driving robin to school every day, and then presumably picking her up for work sometimes too, despite not even knowing she COULDN'T drive herself because he was so dedicated to this routine (and friendship :D <3)

his hair routine!! it's SO specific (four puffs EXACTLY!!! no more no less... and when it's DAMP not WET) and i am honestly of the mind it's actually far more complex of a routine he even makes it out to be .. and i am willing to bet the multi step experience of it all is sooo long and has to be just as specific too. also extra points for it being something he does that aids in his own self-image and would make him feel like he's putting himself together.? so to speak

i think, in a way, that he owns about 9 pairs of shoes and most of them are white sports shoes with a colour accent + he's been shown to wear the colour accent that matches his outfit more often than not. which i spose is a certain kind of. ritual or routine or something.

he also shows a whole host of sensory issues/complexities/...things!!

he wears the same style of clothes like CONSTANTLY. almost everything he owns is either a soft sweater or a polo shirt, plus the same style of jacket he cycles through, all of which are well-worn (despite him being like, rich) :) the exception is that colourblock denim vest (which i think is the exception for him too because he just wanted to look like marty mcfly. which is so autistic)

i.e. wearing something that you know is comfortable over and over that doesn't give you a poor sensory experience, and continuing to buy the same style of clothing because you know it's safe to do so because he FEELS comfortable. super autistic trait. beloved prep trait as well i also just think he doesn't actually care what he wears but whatever

he also sometimes favours tight clothes and sometimes looser/baggier ones (think one day the s4 blue/white polo and jeans, the next a sweater and loose chinos) which indicates to me possible different sensory needs in the day by day...

he also wears a lot of undershirts, including with the scoops ahoy uniform (which could've been to avoid a POOR sensory experience)

he adjusts/runs his fingers through his hair and makes sure it's in a nice state at an almost compulsive level but it's also like an afterthought kind of. it could also just be a sensory thing to want to retouch his hair and play with it and follow through with the prior routine of it Looking Good + a grounding technique for sure

along with that he stims a LOT, including the thing where he has to twirl or throw ANYTHING in his hands up to and including -> a lighter, the baseball bat MIDFIGHT, a torch, a phone MIDFIGHT, his ice cream scooper, keys, his sailor hat, a banana, a random ball he found... he's also very fiddly and tends to sort of be happy sitting quietly and doing something over and over like that (this is also a trait with adhd :) )

the jobs he worked are relatively low intensity despite customer interaction and had him working with his hands plus at FV there's a lot of sorting/organisation. also "not my TAPES man" because he already sorted them and now it's ruined 😭

you tend to see him taking a little moment for himself in the background of scenes a lot, sometimes with robin as well!! he kind of just wanders off and does his own thing but in the wake of the high emotion, high adrenaline various combats in-show it makes sense, even more so if he just needs a little moment to himself to unwind

he walks/paces to think!!!

the reason he and robin only even threw up in season 3 is a) the stimulating lights he noticed that then b) over-stimulated them

this one's a little less obvious but he listens to the same kind of music and listens to it LOUDLY when he's stressed 😭 he also doesn't turn it off even if he like, technically should like on the way to fight monsters. i think he just likes music a lot tbh but also very autistic to me (and also a reason why he and eddie would be friends and/or kiss on the mouth)

one of the biggest things that sounds off to me is his social interactions :0 he is hailed as this like, ladies man but almost near constantly plummets to the earth in insane social blunder which personally i love actually (and it extends beyond these situations too!!). all the hottest boys are autistic...

i know that this is to show him just like, losing his charm...? and that he peaked in highschool or something and i do love his patheticness but it's also sooo autism. one of the reasons i actually think he's gay (lol) is his compulsive need to try and "land" a social interaction with a woman, then fail, while also not "feeling the spark" with the women he DID land and failing to see why (like his date at the basketball game). he's constantly seeking companionship but it feels like it's just out of his reach and he doesn't get it... sigh... and that it's definitely in part bc he feel he can't relate to them because HE'S so different i think. for whatever reason. multiple.

in season 3 the ENTIRE you rule/you suck board is like a beautiful shrine to this... he's honestly so funny . but like constantly awkwardly flirting and somehow saying the wrong thing every time whilst also not getting that they're Not responding to him until they like, leave, which is like. a statistical unlikelihood to me of times this can happen without something else going on in his little brain. i also like that he "invented" a makeout point bc that opens up the ability to just go um. let's go to skull rock. and the person would be like oh okay yes i am going to makeout with steve harrington.

beyond just girls or failed flirting or whatever a lot of his interactions with the kids or his other friends ping to me as having trouble with social cues and some accidental bluntness!! a FAVOURITE being -> "dart ate a cat?" "no. what? no." "what are you talking about? he ate mews" "who's mews?" "it's dustin's cat" "STEVE..." 😭😭 i love him. also him suggesting he could work his charm on the dean of the school and nancy being like... not that kind of charm.

oh another good moment for this is in the epilogue to season 3 actually like he's trying so hard to show he's seen Some movies (but only remembers the significant/stand out details) and then when robin's like can you give us a moment he's just like. Why. and does this funny little head shake movement. and robin does the steve -_- and he backs away kubrick staring... beautiful scene

he also falls victim i think to saying the wrong thing at the wrong time which is a lot of the time not necessarily his like FAULT ofc but suggests further little issues or . unalignmentd with social interaction. the entire 6 little nuggets speech to nancy to me is one of these situations (and maybe the convo in the woods with her?? idk) where he's kind of just talking and digging a hole and the other person is sort of just sitting there. it's also shown with like "like the germans?"

ALSO, a lot of the time people end up coming to him specifically and sort of like... telling him what to do/how HE feels?? and i think he just sort of goes along with it. in season 3 dustin tells him he has a crush on robin until he kind of talks himself into it and then he accidentally crash-fails for a second time by confessing to her at a sort of insane time as well (not that i think he actually had any feelings for her!!). and in season 4 eddie does the SAME with nancy which is almost spectacular.

alsoo while i think he struggles with certain social cues i also think he's very emotionally intelligent and he picks up on people's feelings easily which i guess someone could say it seems to counter? other autistic traits (silly) but to me i think. autistic people are aware of PLENTY of social cues sometimes the cue is just stupid -_- and i can read other people's emotions for sure in fact i'm almost like hyper attuned to it i just don't know how to RESPOND to it a lot of the time. whereas steve picks up on dustin's nerves at the snow ball and reassures him accordingly (and so cutely..), then picks up on robin's emotions after his confession and near-immediately course corrects after her confession in order to make her laugh!!! he was also really good with picking up on nancy's feelings and knowing exactly what to do about it/using forethought about it (like idk holding her hand when they were having sex or something to ease her nerves but also noticing she was upset at the library) when they were together at least 🤔

there are also a number of other various things very dear to me that i have no where else to include. LIKE:

his high pain tolerance!!! he's able to shake off torture, multiple concussions, various beatings with little to almost NO actual repercussions. in s4 it was actually really interesting how he was feeling bad enough to almost faint after the bats but once he was patched up he was "fine", and acted like he was fine for... the rest of the entire show. he did a backflip. high pain tolerance is an offshoot of a sensory dysregulation!!

specifically a lack of filter and moments where he goes "too far" especially when he's struggling with an emotional dysregulation of sorts, like with dustin in s4 or even with jonathan s1, but also like. the dumb faces he was making behind his date's back.

"when i was a baby, i crawled backwards"!!! autistic children can have different development i.e. their early CHILDHOOD development that can present itself in a variety of ways!! atypical to the norm crawling/walking is one of them (also matches up with robin taking 6 months longer to walk than other babies which she Also said to nancy and i think this is significant of something and i don't know what. maybe it's just funny. also stobin soulmates ofc).

to me, being the guy who mid plan debrief is the one saying "so let me get this straight" AND that he's the one asking the necessary questions to get everyone's minds (and in the 4th wall sense the literal plot) moving suggests that he both feels the need to want clarification of like, plans/instructions and what the situation is so everyone is caught up and he didn't get it wrong, and that just speaking it aloud helps cement it in his mind (which is also scripting as well i believe). also his ability to ask the RIGHT "wrong" questions suggests out of-the-box thinking as well (i would say both of these are also an adhd trait!)

his friendship with robin is honestly a point for me LOL. robin is an example of a character i do believe IS intentionally absolutely autistic coded, especially in season 4 but also 3, and his bond with her seems to be a personal one based in trust in each other and their own similarities... in season 4 when they're lamenting their love lives and say they should "just combine" is so important to me.. ugh

he's very particular and possessive about his belongings in an almost pedantic way (c'mon man not my SCOOPER! and wipe your feet before you get in my CAR and honestly even that he refuses to let max drive it fullstop, a little bit)

he also ate. SO many bananas at scoops i think for a time being it ended up being a safe food which literally happened to me as well. a very small thing but i like it

he scripts!! ie he repeats words and phrases aloud as a form of stimulation and getting himself to think or practices what he's going to say before things so he's "scripting" it (his "i'm sorry wtf am i sorry for" speech before he runs into dustin in s2)

he gets along better people who, by majority, aren't in his peer group i.e. the kids!!! and even robin and nancy were a little younger! he is very genuinely friends with the kids and it is Very Genuinely so sweet, but particularly with dustin too i found it sooo... <3

he also shows like these moments of high-intensity like silly child-like qualities of (autistic) joy LIKE when he sees dustin in scoops and they have their little lightsaber fight (which they. had practiced and made beforehand) that is just so sweet to me...

he picks up on things that other people don't!!! as the Normal Guy in a group of people he typically ends up settling in that role BUT he's multiple times picked up on small details that other people don't or DIDN'T notice, which is a neurodivergent trait!! he recognised the song in the russian recording, recalled where it came from like. right after + was the only one who heard dustin in the upside down + other things like noticing when someone's missing from a room

i also think he may be prone to like. i guess sensory overload/emotional dysregulation when he reacts what i think is appropriately to these HUGE scary scenarios but everyone else is like chill out and therefore it's inappropriate to them that he's losing his mind about it. but as time passes and he gets used to it all it lessens for sure (most evident in season 1) but there are moments where he struggles to reign in his truest reactions to things i think LOL. he is also just very dramatic tbf ☝️

his other vague neuroticisms but specifically commenting when things aren't Correct or Right or Safe including complaining about the sterility of the needle he was being injected with mid TORTURE

when he defaults to sports metaphors bc that's the easiest thing he can relate to in s2. god

100% of autistic people i talk to about this all go OH YEAH he's so autistic. tbh i think autistic people relating to a character can be enough of a diagnosis to me. peer diagnosis...

i just think so :)

in conclusion...

[notdoneintentionally-blog]

Atypical friendships: Yaba-Mira

Notes:  I’m perfectly aware they didn’t interact a single time in canon and personally I think that’s a crime so I’m here to fix that. I’m tagging @mira-hearts-queen​ and @mister-sane​ as Mira and Yaba so they can tell me how many I got right!

If you want to see the other parts of ‘atypical friendships’, look under this tag in my blog. 

First, a little context on how they met: 

-Mira had already heard about him from the dealers, about a man always dressed in a suit who managed to solve every hearts game with ease

-She was intrigued and designed one for him. True to his reputation, he cleared it without getting a single blood stain on his shirt.

-Needless to say, Mira was impressed. 

-What caught her eye the most was how despite hearts being clearly his strongest suit, he lacked the affinity for bloodlust she’s seen in other players. Games built around deceit tend to attract people who thrive on betraying and stepping on others to come out on top, but not him. It’s not like he avoids lying and manipulation tactics though, he just does it when he deems it a necessity. 

-Her first thought was ‘I bet I could break him,’ so she decides to approach him to recruit him for the Beach. She wants to see how he’d fare in the ten of hearts she’s planning with Kuzuryuu. 

-However, she makes a mistake. She uses her tactic of appearing gullible and charmed by this tall, handsome man and of course, Yaba is a shark and smells blood in the water. He quickly realises there's more to Mira than meets the eye, and since they're not in a game and he doesn't benefit from lying to her, he tells her.

-Again, Mira is impressed.

-Thus begins a series of chance meetings after games. Some of these are coincidences, most of them are not. 

Now, onto the head canons!

-Yaba ends up showing Mira where he lives (the place is absolutely SPOTLESS) and they spend entire nights talking. It starts off with just game talk, considering different strategies they could've followed or bringing up other games they've been in. They bond over an appreciation of the borderlands’ beauty and an interest in human nature without it being sadistic.

-Then they start speaking about their own lives before the borderlands. Mira's eyes light up when Yaba tells her he's an institutional investor, and asks him if she knows what the Keynesian Beauty Contest is. When he tells her he does, she lets out a giggle but refuses to elaborate further. 

-Yaba is really interested in Mira's job as a psychiatrist. He's spent hours (literal hours) listening to some of her anecdotes with patients. 

-Both Yaba and Mira drink tea, but Mira prefers fruity tea and Yaba likes darjeeling, so Mira ends up leaving some of her own tea at Yaba's place. She also gifts him a teaset, which not coincidentally, is the same one she'll use in the Queen of Hearts. 

-Mira has tried to convince Yaba to sneak into the Beach so he can see what it's like, but he doesn't see the point, so he's never attempted it. Mira tried riling him up by claiming there's a better hearts player there than he is, called Chishiya. It didn't work (and when Yaba actually met Chishiya he had to stifle a scoff because he realised Mira was just messing with him, as Chishiya seems a diamonds player through and through. Better than him? Absolutely not).

-Mira likes giving him small gifts every now and then. One of them is a copy of the DSM-V with hearts drawn on the margins of every single page. The DSM-V has 947 pages. She was really committed to her hearts.  

-Another gift she gives him is a Walkman, after he mentions he missed listening to music. He asks where she got it from and she just says ‘I stole it, but don’t worry about it.’ As she says this, back at the Beach a white-haired executive is planning revenge on Niragi for a crime he didn’t commit. 

- They've made it a tradition that after spades games, they have to play a game themselves at Yaba's place in which they make up the rules, to push themselves beyond physical tiredness. So they might be playing chess and suddenly Mira says 'if we move our rooks we immediately lose'. Then Yaba adds 'knights can now only occupy black squares'. And keep on adding rules until one of them messes up. 

-Yaba has three hairbrushes he’s used to brush Mira’s hair after a game. The repetitive action feels relaxing for the both of them, and it’s the only physical contact they have.

-Whenever Yaba says he wants to rule the borderlands, Mira says he'd make a fine Queen of Hearts. Yaba would reply that if anything, he'd be the King of Hearts, and Mira would laugh and say 'that's not the compliment you think it is. Trust me, the Queen of Hearts is much better'. Eventually, Yaba stopped saying he'd be the King of Hearts and now instead says Queen.

-Yaba does push ups first thing in the morning to wake his body up. Even if Mira's still there, he will do his push ups, there's no two ways about it, she'll have to wait to talk to him. One time Mira got so annoyed by him ignoring her that she sat on Yaba's back to provoke him, and he simply kept on doing push ups without acknowledging her. For anyone wondering, he did a total of eleven with her on his back. 

-They favour style over practicality. While others ask Mira why on Earth she would attempt a game in heels, Yaba makes a comment on how tasteful her Loubutin are. If Yaba almost doesn’t make it to a game because there was a wrinkle in his shirt he couldn’t get rid of, Mira understands it was a risk he had to take. 

- The night the Beach burned down, Yaba saw it in the distance but didn't feel worried in the slightest about Mira. In fact, he thought she might be the reason behind the fire (and was completely right about it). 

- He wasn't surprised either when she announced the beginning of the second stage of the games with her as the Queen of Hearts. He simply thought that if someone were to be the Queen of Hearts other than himself, it'd be her. He felt a mixture of pride and tenderness when he saw every game get cleared one by one until the only one remaining was hers. Of course she'd be the last one standing. Mira Kano was a force to be reckoned with. 

- Once the games had ended and he accepted citizenship, the Joker gave him a small book Mira had left behind for him, titled 'Manual of Survival: Citizenship in the Borderlands'. When he opens it, curious, he realises it's a very detailed guide as to which one of her dresses to wear for each occasion. There's hearts drawn in the margins of every page, a ten-page epilogue on why fruity tea is the superior choice to darjeeling, and a note at the end which says 'you're going to be an amazing Queen of Hearts, darling. Have fun ❤️.'

[thoughtportal]

COVID-19 makes a worrying comeback, WHO warns amid summertime surge

COVID-19 infections are surging globally, including at the Paris Olympics, and are unlikely to decline anytime soon, the World Health Organization (WHO) says. The UN health agency is also warning that more severe variants of the coronavirus may soon be on the horizon.

“COVID-19 is still very much with us,” and circulating in all countries, Dr. Maria Van Kerkhove of WHO told journalists in Geneva.

“Data from our sentinel-based surveillance system across 84 countries reports that the percent of positive tests for SARS-CoV-2 has been rising over several weeks,” she said. “Overall, test positivity is above 10 per cent, but this fluctuates per region. In Europe, percent positivity is above 20 per cent,” Dr. Van Kerkhove added.

New waves of infection have been registered in the Americas, Europe and Western Pacific. Wastewater surveillance suggests that the circulation of SARS-CoV-2 is two to 20 times higher than what is currently being reported. Such high infection circulation rates in the northern hemisphere’s summer months are atypical for respiratory viruses, which tend to spread mostly in cold temperatures.

“In recent months, regardless of the season, many countries have experienced surges of COVID-19, including at the Olympics where at least 40 athletes have tested positive,” Dr. Van Kerkhove said.

As the virus continues to evolve and spread, there is a growing risk of a more severe strain of the virus that could potentially evade detection systems and be unresponsive to medical intervention. While COVID-19 hospital admissions, including for Intensive Care Units (ICUs), are still much lower than they were during the peak of the pandemic, WHO is urging governments to strengthen their vaccination campaigns, making sure that the highest risk groups get vaccinated once every 12 months.

“As individuals it is important to take measures to reduce risk of infection and severe disease, including ensuring that you have had a COVID-19 vaccination dose in the last 12 months, especially, if you are in an at-risk group,” stressed Dr. Van Kerkhove.

Vaccines availability has declined substantially over the last 12-18 months, WHO admits, because the number of producers of COVID-19 vaccines has recently decreased.“It is very difficult for them to maintain the pace,” Dr. Van Kerkhove explained. “And certainly, they don't need to maintain the pace that they had in 2021 and 2022. But let's be very clear, there is a market for COVID-19 vaccines that are out there.”

Nasal vaccines are still under development but could potentially address transmission, thereby reducing the risk of further variants, infection and severe disease.

“I am concerned, “ Dr. Van Kerkhove said. “With such low coverage and with such large circulation, if we were to have a variant that would be more severe, then the susceptibility of the at-risk populations to develop severe disease is huge,” Dr. Van Kerkhove warned.

[fatalism-and-villainy]

Expanding more on this -

I can’t say for sure, but I do wonder how much of the idea that Alana was out of character in season 2 - specifically in her distrusting Will and defending Hannibal - stems from the idea of season 1 Alana as the voice of reason, the Only Sane Woman, etc. And so when she starts making errors in judgment that are very obviously wrong from the viewer’s perspective, it’s a massive swerve from her behaviour in season 1?

But I think that idea of her is oversimplified at best, because season 1 actually features Alana being wrong about some significant stuff. She recognizes that Abigail is hiding something, but is skeptical of the possibility of Abigail being involved in her father’s murders and outright refuses the possibility that she killed Nick Boyle - and the latter, of course, is wrapped up in Alana’s misplaced trust in Hannibal. But on top of that, she’s also wrong about Will. She recognizes that her desire to save him would be unwelcome, but fails to recognize the extent to which Will doesn’t need saving.

Because the season finale features Alana shouting at Jack and then melting down in her car as the culmination of a season’s worth of frustration, I think that contributes to the idea that she was the voice of truth who was being suppressed, and now we’re seeing the consequences. Except her perception of what’s happened at that point isn’t actually the correct one. She’s angry at Jack because she thinks he’s pushed Will too far and he’s gone off the deep end and started murdering people. Which is of course not what happened - Hannibal planted evidence to frame Will - but it also underestimates Will’s resilience. He not only doesn’t kill anyone, he’s able to claw his way back to sanity and gain clarity about who, exactly, was manipulating him.

Will trying to have Hannibal killed in season 2 is a demonstration of how drastically wrong Alana was about Will, but not for the reasons she assumes. She has her convictions about Will’s innocence shattered, and she was ignorant of the extent of his violent potential. But she’s mistaken in her assumptions about his maliciousness at that point. What Will lashing out against Hannibal actually demonstrates re: Alana is that she underestimated Will’s agency and capacity for self-preservation. She admits before this that she’s still motivated by saving him, but Will doesn’t need saving. He will stubbornly try to find a way to save himself (as he himself declares he will do).

And the reasons she’s wrong stem from her self-avowed personal flaws, particularly her saviour complex. But that’s are also wrapped up in her clash with the broader philosophy of the show. Alana is established as someone who’s inclined to see the best in people, as demonstrated in her response to Abigail and to Will’s arrest, and which Will accuses her of doing with Hannibal. Even when confronted with demonstrably and unrepentantly violent people, she’s inclined to find an understanding or explanation behind their behaviour - when Gideon is loose and a direct threat to her, her response is still to point out that that he can’t be held fully accountable for his actions because of what Chilton did to him.

(Which is interesting, because the concept of reduced capacity doesn’t come up much in the show - the only killer we see who truly doesn’t know what they’re doing and can’t be held accountable is Georgia Madchen, and she’s pretty atypical in a lot of ways. The other killers operate based on sensibility or aesthetic ideology, in one way or another.)

And this isn’t really a narrative setting in which Alana’s initial worldview is borne out. It’s a narrative setting and framework that constantly bends towards exploring and drawing out the darker side of humanity, the inherent capacity for violence that lies in all of us (as per Will Graham’s first episode narration, “we’ve all thought about killing someone”), and the beauty in embracing that. It’s not a narrative invested in redemption, or the kind of rehabilitation that Alana wants for Abigail. It’s telling that her conventional brand of psychiatry is juxtaposed with Hannibal’s murder-seduction therapy and investment in making people the worst versions of themselves. (Note that she scrupulously keeps her distance from Will because she fears that her urge to study him would clash with her personal relationship with him - something Hannibal certainly doesn’t care about.) The show may bandy about psychiatric terminology from time to time, but it’s not at all interested in diagnosis - it’s a show concerned with the aesthetic drives behind human violence, and with constructing amorality as a sign of sophistication of taste.

And I’d argue that Alana’s role in season 1 and parts of season 2 is to provide a narrative counterpoint to those themes - and thus a sense of pathos, because how can she not be wrong, in this setting? One thing that’s compelling about Alana’s character to me is the way she eludes a lot of the character archetypes that she could have been slotted into. She doesn’t have the bearing or personality of your traditional naive optimist - she’s too serious and mature and driven and professionally minded. And she has an emotional guardedness and neuroticism that goes against what you’d expect from a character’s who the designated emotional heart of a story. Nonetheless, Bryan Fuller called her the “heart of the show” in one of the episode commentaries, and I honestly agree - she has a well of compassion in those early seasons, and a genuine belief in rehabilitation, that’s at odds not only with the evil that Hannibal represents, but also with Jack’s ruthless benevolence or Will’s grim cynicism.

For those reasons, Alana’s arc is actually pretty tragic to me. It’s a corruption arc, like Will’s. But Will’s arc involves leaning into latent but repressed impulses, and being guided through cultivating an aesthetic framework through which to understand those impulses. Will’s experiences with Hannibal are profoundly destabilizing to him, in a lot of ways, but not exactly in the sense that he has his entire worldview and understanding of other people shattered. But Alana does. She develops into a darker version of herself through being confronted with a kind of evil that can’t be understood in the way she’s used to, and can’t be saved. This is exemplified in the scene in Digestivo when she confronts Hannibal and asks if she could ever have understood him, and he simply says “no.” And she knows the answer already at this point, but still can’t stop herself from asking. Just to know for sure.

(I see people sometimes claim that her characterization is too drastically different from what came before in season 3, but what we see of her there feels very consistent to me with the Alana we know - it’s just a version of Alana who’s undergone a significant trauma and had her trust in someone close to her broken - and broken in a way that destabilizes everything about how she’s used to thinking and relating to people. It’s no wonder to me that she’s much more emotionally closed off, more ruthless, and more cynically willing to exploit amoral characters like Mason Verger for her own gain - and even then, she’s not without reservations about that.)

Anyway, my point is that season 2 marks an important turning point in Alana’s development and the shift in the (relatively) idealistic worldview she begins with. The seeds of the disruption of that worldview are planted with her initial response to Will’s attempt on Hannibal’s life and its upending of her view of him, and then they fully take root in her steady realization of how much Hannibal has deceived her. What’s done with her character in that season feels to me like a natural progression of where she started in season 1 and a natural precursor to where she ends up in season 3.

[kataraslove]

saw this on twitter so i decided to start a version on tumblr 💗

fan card - avatar the last airbender

fan since: 2010 (but officially had persistent brainrot since 2021 after the renaissance)

favourite character: katara!!!

least favourite character: ozai

favourite season: book 2

favourite episode: the waterbending master

favourite ship: kataang 💖

tagging others if they’d like to do their own version:

@chiefesskatara @survivalove @atypicality @flameohotwife @coyotelemon @akiizayoi4869 @transboyzuko @transaangg @autistic-katara @my-cabbages-gorl @ididgettomeetyou @yangvik @dukeofdelirium @leantailean @galacticmountains @khrystyav @northerngoshawk @toph-bi-fong @vibee2001 @coconutsaiyan @arcmagecallum and anyone else who would like to do it <3

[chaika-jpeg-shitpost]

mahoyome season 2 cour 2 ep 4

I understand that mahoyome is trying to tell me that just like marriage might resemble friendship and parental love between the two, friendship might appear as romantic interest at times, and we will never understand each other if we assume that we all have the same universal idea of what a spouse/lover/friend should act like and force atypical relationships into traditional categories, but... wlw

[slowdive1994]

⋆ hello and welcome! ⋆ dandy // she/they // minor (15 and a fool <3) // sapphic (questioning bi again)// aus // enfp // leo ☼ libra ☾ pisces ↑ // basic dni // gluttonous user of brackets // in love with everyone and everything a little bit // life's so fun, life's so fun! // know it's for the be-e-e-tter.

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⋆ albums ⋆ norman fucking rockwell! // ttpd + the anthology // evermore // born to die // did you know there's a tunnel under ocean blvd? // pure heroine // melodrama // folklore // this is what it feels like // good riddance // hmhas // quarter-life crisis // if i could make it go quiet // am // the good witch // the rise and fall of a midwest princess // snow angel // punisher // stranger in the alps // the record // home video // historian // this is why // bury me at makeout creek // puberty 2 // five seconds flat // riot! // guts // bright future //brand new eyes // songs // capacity // masterpiece // stick season // preacher's daughter // live through this // sundays // prelude to ecstasy // wet leg // rae // saturday night wrist // i can // heaven or las vegas // vampire weekend // so tonight that i might see // no burden // brat // the secret of us // everybody else is doing it, so why can’t we? // maggot // charm // among my swan // celebrity skin // AM // around the fur // remember that i love you // a-sides // the rest // be the cowboy // loveless // siamese dream // nowhere // souvlaki // lsd and the search for god // sports // american thighs //american football //

⋆ tv ⋆ gilmore girls // cruella // heartbreak high // 10 things i hate about you // 27 dresses // do revenge // friends // all the bright places // pride and prejudice // how i met your mother // mona lisa smile // never have i ever // gossip girl // pjo // little women // but i'm a cheerleader // now you see me // the hunger games // the breakfast club // murder mystery // the fault in our stars // yellowjackets // how to lose a guy in 10 days // heartstopper // the princess and the frog // knives out // tinkerbell // geek girl // to all the boys i've loved before // five feet apart // the devil wears prada // knives out // anne with an 'e' // atypical // the babysitter's club // riverdale // ratatouille // enola holmes // mean girls // wednesday // the vampire diaries // the perks of being a wallflower // ruby sparks // bottoms // buffy the vampire slayer // juno //

⋆ books ⋆ the invisible life of addie larue // we were liars // the raven cycle // the folk of the air // anne of green gables // little women // daisy jones & the six // the seven husbands of evelyn hugo // the hunger games // red white and royal blue // they both die at the end // pride and prejudice // pjo // the fault in our stars // all the bright places // five feet apart // turtles all the way down // heartstopper // solitaire // loveless // tuck everlasting // one of us is lying // sadie // she's too pretty to burn // caraval // the illuminae files // aurora rising // emily henry books // the bell jar // girl, interrupted // the virgin suicides //

⋆ taglist + sideblogs + notes ⋆ #asks // #incredible remarkable awe-inducing mutuals <3 // #just dandy thoughts // #anon // #tag game // #picrew // #ask bait/#ask game // #dandy.txt // mp3 dvd rumble pack guitar // @path0logical-people-pleaser // @idespisemyrottenmind // @saturn-mo0n // intro post was inspired by @svnflowermoon and @glcive - go check their blogs out, they're lovely <3 // last update: 23 september 2024 // bye and thank you for reading!! //