#but if this seems timely and familiar that's probably why

[writerfromshikahr]

I want to state this is not a "hate Neve" piece. I wrote this originally as a bit of a tongue in cheek nod to players (perceived) frustrations about the flirting between Neve and Lucanis if you're romancing him. It was a one off piece originally and then a friend of mine encouraged me to write the whole damn thing. It's silly and probably not the best writing I have ever done, but it's a fun read (oh and long)!

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First Cut - Lucanis X Rook Fanfic

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It had been a mistake to stay in the room earlier, to stand there and watch Lucanis and Neve exchange flirtatious banter.

Neve had laughed, bright and melodious, and Lucanis had responded with a smile that seemed to light up the whole damn Lighthouse. Right in front of her. In front of her. The pang in her chest had been immediate and deep, leaving her breathless and struggling to maintain her composure.

Now, as she stood in the quietest corner she could find, away from everyone else, the hurt replayed itself over and over, accompanied by the cruel voice of self-doubt that she couldn’t quiet. What did you think would happen, Rook?…she chided herself. That he’d notice you when someone like Neve exists?

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the familiar burn of embarrassment. Of course, Lucanis liked her. Why wouldn’t he? Neve was stunning, with her sleek, sophisticated appearance and the grace of a refined Minrathous mage. She always had the perfect thing to say, remaining calm under pressure and exuding an effortless charm that captivated everyone. Neve was flawless. Neve was everything a woman should be.

Rook, on the other hand, was… well, she let out a humourless laugh. She was “pleasantly plump,” as one Crow had called her, with thick thighs and a belly she had long since stopped trying to hide. Her Crow leathers had to be adjusted to fit her more comfortably around her hips and legs. Where Neve embodied elegance, Rook was simply Rook. Awkward, self-conscious, and hopelessly bad at saying anything clever, she always seemed to trip over her words or, worse, blurt out something completely foolish at the worst possible moments.

You thought he felt the same way about you, didn’t you? Her heart twisted painfully at the realization. What a cruel joke. The way he had looked at Neve today was proof enough, wasn’t it? She wasn’t his type. The message was received—loud and clear.

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Rook had become a master at avoidance over the past few days, though it was starting to wear her thin. Every time she caught a glimpse of Lucanis, her heart clenched painfully, so she did what she could to keep her distance. She slipped out of rooms when he walked in, buried herself in tasks that required her full attention, and, when it came to conversation, she only offered clipped, polite responses to Neve, refusing to engage in anything more. It hurt to keep her walls up, but it was the only way she could cope.

Instead, she found herself spending more time with Davrin and Assan, grateful for the easy friendship they shared. Davrin, with all his swagger and occasional theatrics, had a way of making her smile even when her heart felt heavy. He was like the big brother she never had, someone who made her feel safe and seen without any of the complications that seemed to swirl around Lucanis. And with the added charm of Assan, Davrin’s adorable toddler griffon companion, there was always something to laugh about.

Today, they’d ventured out to the Arlathan Forest, a welcome reprieve from the Lighthouse and all the tangled emotions that currently lived there. The forest was peaceful, a canopy of golden leaves rustling overhead, and Rook felt some of her tension ease. She and Davrin found a small clearing atop a rocky outcrop, perfect for Assan to practice his flying. The young griffon flapped his wings with eager determination, making little leaps and swoops that brought a genuine smile to Rook’s face.

They settled on the smooth granite, sharing a simple lunch of bread and cheese, and conversation flowed easily between them. Davrin regaled her with tales of growing up in Arlathan, his voice full of life and humour, and she listened, fascinated by his stories. In turn, he asked her questions about the Crows, and she answered as best she could, occasionally making light of some of the darker aspects of her life. They even exchanged stories about their respective fights—the Grey Wardens and their eternal struggle against Archdemons, and the Crows with their endless contracts and rivalries. Despite Davrin’s opinions about her line of work, he respected her. They had built a solid friendship, and she had come to value it deeply.

He could tell she needed this time away, and so he did what he did best: kept her entertained and laughing. Still, even with all the humour and warmth between them, Davrin wasn’t blind. He’d noticed that something seemed off, that Rook was more distracted than usual. And, more curiously, he’d noticed the absence of Lucanis. Usually, the two were practically joined at the hip, their bond undeniable. But now… there was a definite shift, and he wasn’t sure how—or if—he should bring it up. As he watched her thoughtfully, he finally spoke up, trying to sound casual.

“So… you gonna tell me what’s got you all twisted up, or are we just gonna pretend you haven’t been acting like your mind’s somewhere else entirely?”

Rook looked at him, startled by the question, but then she sighed, her shoulders sagging. She had hoped that spending time with Davrin and Assan would make her forget the pain, but there was no escaping how deeply it cut her. “It’s nothing,” she said softly, but even she could hear the lie in her voice.

Davrin didn’t push. He knew her well enough to know when to leave things be. Still, he reached out and gave her shoulder a squeeze, his usual cheeky grin softening. “Well, whatever it is, you know I’ve got your back, right?” Assan warbled in agreement, flapping his wings like he was seconding the sentiment.

Rook’s lips twitched into a small smile. It wasn’t much, but for now, it was enough to have someone who cared, someone who could make the world feel a little bit brighter. Even if she couldn’t outrun her feelings, at least she had friends who made the burden easier to carry.

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Lucanis’s gaze lingered on Rook, his expression dark with confusion and frustration. She had gone out of her way to placing as much distance between them as possible, choosing the spot farthest from him at the table, right between Davrin and Taash. She occasionally spoke, and her lips curved into a soft smile when Davrin leaned in to whisper something that made her laugh. The sound, bright and genuine, only twisted the knife deeper into Lucanis’s chest. She hadn’t even spared him a single glance.

He took a sip of his soup, the taste barely registering, and let out a sigh that was loud enough to draw Lace’s attention as she grabbed seconds and plopped down beside him. “This is one of the best meals you’ve cooked, Lucanis,” she said with a grin. “Seriously, it’s delicious.”

He mustered a small smile at the compliment, but his eyes drifted back to Rook. He missed her terribly—her company, their conversations, and, most of all, the way her laughter used to be directed at him. Now, it was as if he had become invisible. What did I do? he thought, trying to piece together where he’d gone wrong.

Neve, who had also taken a seat nearby, picked up on his brooding mood. She arched an eyebrow and gave him a teasing smile. “Don’t tell me my assassin is feeling broody this evening?” she asked, her tone playful.

Lucanis’s eyes flicked over to her, unfocused. “What?”

Neve rolled her eyes, grabbing a piece of bread and dipping it into her soup. “I said, you seem broody tonight,” she repeated, though she didn’t seem all that concerned about it.

He nodded, distracted, and looked back at Rook, who was still doing her best to ignore him. “Perhaps I am, Neve,” he replied, the words tasting bitter. It was infuriating how Rook refused to acknowledge him as if he’d become a ghost. He had replayed every conversation and every moment from the past few days, trying to figure out when he might have crossed a line, said something careless, or given any reason for her to pull away. Yet he kept coming up empty.

Spite, normally full of commentary and sass, had fallen unusually silent. Then again, Spite tended to grow quieter whenever Neve was around.

Neve leaned closer, trying to pull his attention back to her. “Do you want to catch up this evening?” she asked, eyes sparkling with interest. “I found a book I think will be right up your alley.”

Lucanis had barely registered her words, his mind too full of the ache that was Rook. He blinked at Neve, his expression blank. “A book?” he echoed, his voice distant.

Neve, clearly unimpressed, shook her head. “Yes, Lucanis. I have one for you,” she repeated, with a touch of exasperation.

“Oh,” he said, realizing he’d made her repeat herself. “Sure, I’ll swing by later and get it from you.” His reply sounded mechanical like he was going through the motions. But then, out of nowhere, Rook’s laughter cut through the air, loud and free, a burst of joy that caught everyone’s attention. Even Taash choked on her drink, snorting with amusement.

Lucanis felt his heart sink further. Yeah, he thought miserably. I hate it here. Watching Rook smile at Davrin felt like punishment, and not knowing how to fix things between them was driving him mad. He had no idea how to bridge the growing distance or why he had ended up here in the first place, and that, more than anything, was the most frustrating part.

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Rook’s heart hammered in her chest as she froze in the hallway, seeing Lucanis waiting for her. Every instinct screamed at her to turn around and walk the other way, to avoid whatever painful conversation was about to unfold, but she knew she couldn’t keep running. You can do this, she told herself, her throat tightening. She drew in a deep breath, trying to steady herself, and forced herself to speak.

“Lucanis,” she greeted, her voice carefully cool. “Is there something I can do for you?”

His brow furrowed, confusion and frustration warring on his face. “What is happening, Rook?” he asked, a hint of exasperation leaking through. “Why are you avoiding me?”

She looked away from his gaze, her eyes fixing firmly on the stone floor. If she looked at him—into those deep, dark eyes that always managed to see straight through her—she knew she’d cave. She wasn’t ready for that. For once, she was determined not to fold, to hang onto her anger, even if it pained her. “I’m not avoiding you,” she replied, her tone clipped. “I’ve been busy, you know, saving the world, fighting ancient gods… that kind of thing.”

Lucanis regarded her quietly, the weight of his gaze like a physical thing pressing down on her. “I see, have I said something or done something?”

Rook forced a smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “No, I’m fine,” she said, her voice flat and devoid of the warmth she usually reserved for him. The fine was a lie, but she clung to it desperately. It felt safer than admitting how badly he’d wounded her. And it gave her a semblance of control over her heart, a way to shield herself from the crushing weight of feeling like she wasn’t enough.

Lucanis tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Fine?” he repeated, scepticism heavy in his voice. “Hmm. It doesn’t look that way from where I’m standing.”

He took a step closer, and Rook instinctively backed up, keeping the same distance between them. She wouldn’t let him close, not when her heart was so fragile. “Perhaps you should go pick up that book from Neve,” she shot back, “I’m sure she’ll have your favourite coffee brewed and waiting.”

Lucanis’s eyes widened a fraction, the hurt flashing across his features unmistakable. Before he could respond, she brushed past him, retreating into her room and closing the door behind her. She leaned against it, breathing hard, fighting the urge to cry.

In the hallway, Lucanis stood in stunned silence, the shadows around him deepening as he tried to piece together what had just happened. His head tilted slightly, confusion etched on his face. Was this about Neve? The question churned in his mind, sending him spiralling back through every conversation, every interaction with Neve, searching for any clue. Why would Rook mention her?

It was then that Spite finally spoke up, his voice echoing in the corners of Lucanis’s mind. “Tastes like… envy,” the demon mused, each word slow and almost thoughtful. “Yes. Bitter. Sharp.”

Lucanis’s eyes widened in sudden realization. Envy. Rook was jealous? His heart lurched at the thought, a mix of confusion, guilt, and something else he couldn’t quite name. Jealous of what? That was the bigger question, but he had a place to start, which was more than he had moments before.

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Lucanis listened to Neve, his gaze thoughtful as he leaned back into the couch, sipping his coffee. The cozy yet refined atmosphere of her room couldn’t fully soothe his restless mind. "Jealous? Of me? Odd," Neve mused, sounding genuinely perplexed. "We aren't exactly bosom buddies, but we've always had a good working relationship. She's a capable mage, highly recommended if you listen to House de Riva. And she’s... well, sweet. Maybe a little too sweet at times. The world can be harsh, and people like Rook don't always make it out in one piece."

Lucanis tilted his head, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Sweet? Yes, she is,” he agreed, but there was more to it. “there’s strength in her, too. The kind that can get us through this, no matter how bad things get.” He paused, searching Neve’s eyes. “You know why Viago sent her out of Antiva, right?”

Neve nodded, her brow knitting together slightly. “I got the gist from him. He seemed… displeased.”

Lucanis’s smile widened a fraction. “Viago is always displeased,” he said with a hint of humour, “but he does have a soft spot for Rook, even if he won’t admit it. She climbed the ranks fast. Full membership with the Crows at a young age. Orphaned and taken in by House de Riva when she was around eight. But what got her exiled was taking initiative where she shouldn’t have.” He swirled his coffee, his eyes reflecting a complicated mix of pride and sadness. “She has heart—a soft one, maybe—but she freed a group of prisoners and slaves one night, prisoners the Antaam would’ve had executed. Varric was among them. You know that part.”

Neve leaned forward, her interest piqued. “Yes, but?”

“But,” Lucanis continued, “her actions derailed a much larger operation. She saved lives, but it cost the Crows.. That’s what led to her downfall.” He stared into his coffee, the steam curling up like ghostly whispers. “She’s got a good heart.”

Neve considered his words, sitting beside him and absorbing the weight of what he’d said. “A good heart that ultimately got her kicked out of her city,” she pointed out, “But that doesn’t explain why she’s jealous of me.”

Lucanis gave her a wry smile, one brow lifting slightly. “I figured the renowned Minrathous detective might have some insight to bestow upon me.”

Neve laughed, the sound warm and clear. “Oh, sure. Because I’m great with people, right?” she said, rolling her eyes. “Tell you what: maybe I’ll have a word with Davrin. They’re close. Leave it with me, and I’ll get back to you.”

Lucanis's smile softened, but his heart felt heavy with uncertainty. "I appreciate it," he said, though the thought of Rook feeling hurt, even if it was out of jealousy, left an ache in his chest that he couldn't quite shake.

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“Jealous?” Davrin echoed, his eyebrows rising with genuine surprise. “Of you? Hmm... nope. She hasn’t said anything to me, but she has been distracted. Yeah, that’s the right word.” He set down his latest whittling project, a small wooden figure of what looked like a griffon, and studied Neve with his usual thoughtful expression. “But she hasn’t said anything to you?”

Neve shook her head. “Nothing, I’m afraid.”

Davrin let out a sigh, leaning back. “Look, Rook is a good person, but even I know some people need space from time to time. I’m not going to pressure her into telling me anything she doesn’t want to share. But...” he trailed off, tapping his chin, “she and Lucanis used to be practically joined at the hip. Wherever he was, she’d be right there. If you ask me, she’s sweet on him, and it’s not just that whole Crow loyalty thing.”

Neve’s eyes widened slightly. “She has a crush?”

Davrin shook his head with a small smile. “No, not a crush. She likes him. I can see it in the way she is around him, and I know her pretty well.”

Neve frowned, her mind racing. “So... what do I have to do with all of this? Seems a little strange that I’d be involved.”

Davrin tilted his head, smirking a little. “Well, who told you she was jealous?”

“Lucanis,” Neve replied, sounding almost exasperated.

“But who told him?” Davrin shot back, a knowing grin on his face.

Neve paused, then rolled her eyes. “Spite told him,” she admitted with a touch of reluctance.

Davrin’s laughter burst out, loud and unapologetic. “Oh, so we’re taking the word of a demon now?” He shook his head, clearly entertained. “This is hilarious.”

Neve threw her hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, Lucanis takes him seriously! And to be fair, that demon has never led us astray.” Her lips twitched with a hint of amusement despite herself.

Davrin exhaled, the humour fading to something more contemplative. “All right, leave it with me. Rook and I are heading out to Lavendel together soon. I’ll have a chat with her, and see if I can make sense of this mess.”

Neve nodded, a small smile of relief crossing her face. “Thanks, Davrin. Just... tread carefully, okay? Whatever’s going on, it matters a lot to her.”

Davrin gave her a mock salute. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” But as he picked up his whittling project again, he couldn’t help but wonder if his friend was ready to admit the truth to herself.

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"What the fuck, Davrin? Who told you that?!"

Davrin blinked in surprise at Rook's outburst. "Who told you I was jealous of Neve?!"

"Hey, I’m just asking for interested parties. They figured I’d know what’s up with my friend," he replied, holding his hands up defensively.

Rook turned away from him, her fists clenched at her sides. She was too angry to speak—not at Davrin, no. Davrin could annoy her, sure, but Lucanis? He could make her seethe. And knowing that this line of questioning was coming from Neve of all people made her want to throw herself straight into the Fade, never to return.

"Rook," Davrin said quietly, his tone unusually gentle, "I promise, I won’t breathe a word if you tell me what’s bothering you. Warden’s honor."

Rook glanced at him, catching the earnestness in his expression. For once, he wasn’t cracking a joke to lighten the mood. She let out a sharp exhale and looked away again, debating whether to open up. Finally, she gave in.

“I swear to the Maker, if you report back to them, I’ll take out a contract on you,” she grumbled before the words burst out of her. “It’s the fucking flirting! Neve and Lucanis flirt all the fucking time, and I’M RIGHT FUCKING THERE! They just flirt like I’m invisible. I—well…” She hesitated, then plunged ahead. “I like him, and he never flirts with me. Never mentions anything about buying me something at the markets, or, ‘Hey, Rook, here’s a flower I picked for you,’ or anything like that. Nothing! I get nothing. It’s infuriating. What is wrong with me? Well, I know what’s wrong with me. Look at me. Look at this!”

She grabbed her thigh angrily, gesturing in frustration.

Davrin didn’t interrupt. He just listened, his expression calm and steady, letting her vent it all out.

“She’s perfect,” Rook continued, her voice shaking with anger. “Perfect hair, perfect outfits, perfect everything. And then there’s me—always saying the wrong thing, always crumpled. And he’s all, ‘Wow, Neve, great shot,’ while I’ve just literally slaughtered ten thousand darkspawn and not once does that man say anything.”

Davrin waited a beat to make sure she was finished before speaking. “I see. Well, thank you for finally telling me. I feel like we’re making progress here.”

Rook shot him a sharp look, her frustration now turning toward him.

“So, you like Lucanis,” Davrin said with a knowing smile. “I thought as much. I mean, it was obvious to me—everyone else seems to be walking around with blinders on.”

Rook groaned, dramatically flopping her head into her hands. “Don’t tell me that, Dav. It’s not making me feel any better. I already feel like the biggest idiot alive. I guess Viago was right.”

Davrin slung an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in, his tone soft but firm. “That’s my friend you’re talking about, and I don’t take kindly to people putting her down. Question is, where do you go from here?”

Rook let out a long, exhausted sigh. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m so angry at him right now. And unfairly pissed off at Neve. But I can’t forgive him yet. I’m far too in my ‘petty era’ right now.”

“I can tell, Rook,” Davrin began, his voice steady but not unkind. “Thing is, he doesn’t know what he’s done. Not sure how the man is supposed to make amends if he isn’t told.”

Rook stared off into the small village that Davrin and her had spent the last two days protecting from the Blight, her frustration simmering beneath the surface. “How does he not know? The man is a walking romance novel with her! Why doesn’t he do that with me?” She paused, her voice dropping into something quieter. “I know I’m not like her… I get that…”

Davrin cut her off before she could spiral any further. “For the love of the Maker, Rook, you’re gorgeous. Why do you keep comparing yourself to her? Sure, you’re nothing like Neve, but you’re you, and that ain’t bad.”

Rook gave him a deadpan stare, one eyebrow arching. “Really? Now you’re hitting on me?”

“Fuck no,” Davrin shot back with mock indignation. “I know who your boyfriend is... and he terrifies me.”

Rook snorted, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “He’s not my boyfriend. I have no idea what we are. At the moment, he just annoys me.” She let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping. “I’m going to have to talk to him, aren’t I?”

There was a note of defeat in her voice, like she was resigning herself to some inevitable punishment.

“Fuck… why do I have to be the one to do it? I want him to apologize. I want him to beg for forgiveness.” She groaned, throwing her hands in the air. “Wow, I really am being petty.”

Davrin grinned, his expression both amused and supportive. “Yes, but it suits you.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you want me to say something to him? Informing him of his gross oversight of sneaking around trying to find out what’s wrong with you and then maybe steer him toward an ‘ah-ha’ moment?”

“You’d do that for me?” she asked quietly, her voice softer now, vulnerable.

“Of course,” Davrin said with a mock-serious nod. “Killing darkspawn, being a baby daddy to Assan, and sorting out budding romances at the Lighthouse? Those are my specialties.”

Rook rolled her eyes and playfully swatted his arm. “Dumbass.”

Davrin grinned, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that infuriatingly charming way. “Maybe so,” he said, leaning back with exaggerated confidence, “but I’m your dumbass. And where would you be without me?”

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Lucanis had been quiet all day. Davrin knew he was a man of few words, but today’s outing with him and Lace had been decidedly less chatty than normal. Now, they sat around a tavern table, finally letting some warmth soak into their bones. The Lighthouse’s perpetual twilight made it easy to forget the biting cold of Thedas, but the roaring fire beside them was a rare luxury this evening.

Davrin watched Lucanis as he stared into his coffee mug, the steam curling up like ghosts between his hands. Lace was busy chatting with the patrons at a nearby table, her laughter carrying faintly over the hum of conversation.

“So, Lucanis,” Davrin said casually, breaking the silence. “You’ve been a little quiet today. Anything amiss?”

Lucanis looked up, his dark eyes sharp as they met Warden's. “I’m not in the mood.” His tone was flat, cold.

For a moment, silence hung between them, but Davrin wasn’t one to back down so easily. He leaned back in his chair, watching Lucanis carefully. “I see that,” he said finally. “Wondering if I can help you out with that?”

Lucanis sipped his coffee, his gaze distant, and he could tell he was mulling something over. “You know Rook well,” the assassin said after a long pause. “Probably better than I.”

Davrin shifted in his chair, not entirely sure where this was going. He prayed to the Maker it didn’t involve knives. “Ahhh, yes,” he replied cautiously. “Though I’d say you know our fearless leader pretty well too.”

“I’m not so sure of that.” Lucanis’s words were quiet but firm, his eyes flicking back to him for a moment before returning to his coffee cup.

Davrin leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I’m guessing you’re looking for answers,” he said lightly, nodding toward the mug. “Doubtful you’ll find them in there, my friend.”

A faint, almost reluctant smile tugged at Lucanis’s lips. “Perhaps not,” he admitted. “But coffee is good for reflection.” He paused, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him visibly. “I’ve done something. I know I have. But she won’t tell me what it is, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Well, I know what you’ve done.”

Davrin smiled slyly, taking a sip of his beer like he wasn’t about to drop a bombshell. “It’s your lucky day, Crow.”

Lucanis stared at him, his mouth slightly agape. “You know?”

The Warden nodded, leaning back in his chair with a grin. “Sure do. And I can’t say it’s an easy fix—for you, at least. But,” he added, setting his mug down with a heavy clink, “if you applied as much effort into correcting your mistake as you do into flirting with a certain detective, you might just win her heart back.”

Davrin punctuated his sentence with a deep, exaggerated gulp of his drink, clearly pleased with himself.

Lucanis just looked at him, his face blank, and said nothing for the longest while. The lively chatter and laughter of the tavern seemed to fill the silence as Davrin waited, unsure if he had heard him.

“Flirting?” Lucanis repeated, his tone a mix of disbelief and offense. “With Neve? Flirting, as in me being suggestive with Neve?”

Davrin smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Do you need to say it a third time, Crow? Whatever way you cut it, it still sounds a bit... shit.”

Lucanis blinked, his mouth opening slightly as if to argue, but Davrin pressed on, clearly enjoying himself.

“I guess Rook just got fed up with hearing about you wanting to buy Neve fresh fish and flowers at the market.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “Oh, and I think she said—” Davrin cleared his throat for dramatic effect—“and I quote: ‘And he’s all, “Wow, Neve, great shot,” while I’ve just literally slaughtered ten thousand darkspawn, and not once does that man say anything.’”

He leaned back with a satisfied grin, taking another sip of his beer. “Yeah, I think that about covers the gist of what she vented to me for a solid 45 minutes.”

“Mierda,” Lucanis muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair.

Davrin waved at the serving girl over with a grin. “Yes, you’re screwed, Lucanis,” he said cheerfully. “But, as I mentioned, you can make this better… I think.” He ordered another beer for himself and a fresh coffee for his brooding friend.

Lucanis’s brow furrowed, his voice low and resigned. “What else did she say? I need to know just how much of a gilipollas I’ve been.”

Davrin laughed, the sound loud enough to turn a few heads nearby. “I’m assuming that’s something bad—and if it is, you deserve it.” He leaned back, his grin widening. “Let’s see… what else did she say? Oh, right!”

Davrin sat forward, lowering his voice to mimic Rook’s, exaggerating her frustration: ‘Nothing! I get nothing. It’s infuriating. What is wrong with me? Neve and Lucanis flirt all the fucking time, and I’M RIGHT FUCKING THERE! They just flirt like I’m invisible.’ He leaned back with a satisfied smirk. “And, of course, more liberal usage of the word ‘fuck.’”

“I don’t know what to say,” Lucanis muttered, his voice low. He slumped back in his chair, looking more defeated than Davrin had ever seen him. “I’m not sure what I’m meant to say. I don’t mean anything by it—the flirting. I never thought…”

“No, you didn’t,” Davrin cut in sharply, holding up a hand to stop him. “Why would you? You ask her for advice on gifts for Neve, buy her nothing, and expect everything to be fine?” He shook his head, leaning forward. “Shit, Lucanis, you could pick Rook a flower off a random bush in Arlathan, and she’d be insufferably happy for days. I do it all the time for her, and I don’t even want to fuck her.”

Lucanis’s brow furrowed deeper, but he didn’t interrupt.

Davrin leaned back with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Bare minimum, my friend. Bare. Minimum. And you’ve somehow managed to fall below that. Impressive, really.”

He punctuated his words with a long swig of his beer, shaking his head as he set the mug down.

“So, this is how you’re going to fix this,” Davrin began, pointing a finger at Lucanis for emphasis. “After we’re done at this outpost, we’re heading home, and you are going to beg for some kind of forgiveness. Kneel if you have to. Hell, throw in a prayer to the Maker while you’re at it and hope that gorgeous woman decides to give you another chance.”

Lucanis stared at him, his mouth opening slightly, but Davrin didn’t give him the chance to speak.

“And keep your damn mouth shut around Neve,” Davrin continued, leaning forward for extra emphasis. “I get it—Neve is damn fine to look at. But those thoughts? Inside thoughts, not outside thoughts, Lucanis. And for the love of everything holy, make sure your demon is on board with this too.”

Lucanis fiddle with the handle on his cup, guilt practically radiating off him, but Davrin wasn’t done.

“She likes you, I know she does. But she’s hurt, and a woman scorned is a terrifying force of nature.”

Davrin sat back, arms crossed, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “So what’s the plan, Crow?”

“I have no fucking idea,” Lucanis muttered, running a hand down his face. “I’ll think of something. I’ll fix this.”

He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than Davrin.

“It better be good,” Davrin said pointedly, leaning back in his chair. “Because she is pissed, and I don’t blame her. And for the love of the Maker, can you tell her that you like her? It’s clear as day to me, but she has no idea. She thinks you don’t even see her.”

Lucanis opened his mouth to retort, but Davrin barreled on.

“This whole ‘I’m possessed by a demon and I can’t love anyone’ trope is old, Lucanis. If you can charm Neve halfway around Minrathous, you can bloody well lavish some of that charm on Rook.”

“I’ll fix it,” Lucanis said firmly, though the conviction in his voice wavered just slightly. “And… thank you, for letting me know.”

Davrin gave him a hearty pat on the back, his grin equal parts teasing and supportive. “I don’t envy you, Lucanis. I thought fighting the ancient Gods was going to be tough, but this? Seems like you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

Lucanis let out a quiet breath, half a smile tugging at his lips. He knew Davrin was right.

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

He found her up on the balcony, as he expected. Rook often went there to read when she needed space from everyone else. Davrin slid onto the bench beside her, and they sat in comfortable silence, the quiet of the moment broken only by the rustle of pages and the distant sounds of the Lighthouse.

Assan nuzzled his head against Rook’s arm, demanding pats, which she happily obliged, scratching behind the young griffon’s ears.

“It’s good to have you back,” she said finally, her voice soft but genuine. “I missed you. Did it go well?”

Davrin smiled, leaning back. “Of course it did. Harding is a terrible cook, though... but apart from that, we got the job done.”

Rook huffed a laugh, but before she could reply, Davrin added, almost too casually, “Oh, and I spoke to the Crow.”

Rook froze for a moment, her smile faltering. “Oh, Maker, how did that go?” She waved a hand before he could answer. “You know what? Don’t tell me. I’ve been perfectly happy here without him.”

Davrin turned his head, giving her a pointed side-eye. “Sure, sure... you’ve been perfectly happy.”

Rook glared at him over the top of her book, but he wasn’t done.

“He knows what he’s done wrong now,” Davrin continued with a shrug, “and is, and I quote, ‘formulating a plan,’ whatever the fuck that means.”

“A plan?” Rook repeated, her gaze drifting off into the endless expanse of the Fade sky. She hesitated, her fingers absently scratching Assan’s feathers as she gathered her thoughts. “I’m going to ask you something, and I want complete honesty. Even if it’s not what I want to hear.”

Davrin tilted his head, his smile softening. “Always.”

Rook turned to him, her voice quieter now, almost vulnerable. “Does the man even remotely like me?”

Davrin’s grin widened as he leaned back against the railing, taking a moment before answering. “Rook,” he said slowly, “I watched the blood drain out of the his face when I laid it all out on the table for him. I have never seen such a sorry sight.” He paused, his tone turning more sincere. “If that’s any indication of what he’s feeling, I think he’s sweet on you.”

Rook’s lips pressed into a thin line, her expression unreadable.

“He’s clueless,” Davrin added with a shrug. “I doubt he’s ever had a relationship before. Doesn’t excuse what he did, but I know he’ll fix it—or at least try to.”

Rook leaned her head on his shoulder, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why is life so hard? Everything feels so complicated, and I’m so tired. I know you said I shouldn’t compare myself to anyone, but… I don’t always feel strong, you know?” She paused, her fingers idly stroking Assan’s feathers. “Have I blown this all out of proportion? I think… I think I need to speak to Neve. She’s lovely—I know she is.”

Davrin stayed quiet for a long moment, his usual humor replaced by a thoughtful stillness.

“I think, sometimes, Rook,” he said softly, “you don’t see yourself the way the rest of us see you. At the heart of it all, you’re a good person. And yes, you’re beautiful too.”

Rook shifted slightly, about to protest, but Davrin pressed on.

“People come in all shapes and sizes. That doesn’t make anyone worth less than the next person. Maybe instead of comparing yourself to what you’re not, you should take a hard look at all the amazing things you are. All the shit you’ve accomplished under impossible odds. Hell, you’ve even put Solas in his place a few times—and that guy’s a dick.”

“That’s a weird way to ask me out on a date, Dav,” Rook said with a small smile, her eyes glinting with playful mischief.

Davrin laughed out loud, the sound echoing through the balcony. “You wish, de Riva. You and me would never work out.” He leaned back, grinning. “Besides, I come with a kid in tow—parenthood is tough.”

Rook chuckled, scratching Assan under the chin as the griffon chirped contentedly.

“Nah,” Davrin continued, “I think you’re more suited to the stabbity-stab life of Crow intrigue. I’m just a simple man, a Grey Warden with modest needs. You’d outlive me, no doubt, and I can’t have you being all mopey about the charming and heroic warrior you once knew.”

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

She heard the faint rustle of a note slipping under her door just as she was drifting off to sleep. For a moment, she considered leaving it there until morning, her exhaustion tugging at her. But curiosity got the better of her.

Pulling the blanket tightly around her shoulders, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, shivering as her feet touched the cold floor. With a quiet sigh, she padded across the room, picked up the envelope, and sank into the worn couch by the window.

The candlelight flickered softly, casting long shadows as she slid her finger under the seal. The handwriting inside was instantly familiar, and her breath caught as she unfolded the letter.

-----

Rook,

I have thought about what to write in this letter to you for days as we made our way back home. I am usually good at making plans and coming up with solutions to any problem. Unfortunately, in this case, I am the problem, and I don’t know how to fix the hurt I’ve caused you.

That being said, I will try to make this right. If you decide not to accept my apology, I will understand. But if you can find it in your heart to let me make this up to you, I would be grateful.

Meet me in Treviso tomorrow evening at my favourite café—you know the one. We went there not long after I joined you at the Lighthouse.

I will wait for you.

—Lucanis

-----

Rook sank back into her couch, the letter still clutched against her chest. Stupid Antivan man, she thought, her lips twitching into a faint smile despite herself.

She couldn’t deny it—no matter how frustrated she was, no matter how much she wanted to stay angry—she was willing to hear him out.

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

There was a knock at the door.

“Can I come in, Rook?” Neve’s voice was soft but firm.

From inside, she heard a flurry of shuffling, a thud, and several muffled expletives. Finally, the door creaked open.

“Yes, come in,” Rook said, rubbing her toe with a wince. “I’m just getting ready to…”

Neve smiled knowingly. “Meet Lucanis in Treviso. I know.”

Rook sighed, slumping back slightly. “Of course you know. He probably told you.”

She moved to the couch, sitting down to pull on her boots, her movements stiff with nervous energy. Neve stepped inside, her gaze drifting to the window where the shimmering fish swam lazily outside.

“You really do have the best room at the Lighthouse,” Neve remarked, her voice distant. “No wisps, just the fish.” She turned back to Rook, her expression softening. “No, he didn’t tell me. Davrin did.”

Rook paused, her hands hovering over her laces.

“I wanted to stop by and tell you to enjoy yourself,” Neve continued. “If I know Lucanis, he’ll have a wonderful evening planned for you.” She hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer, her tone quieter but no less sincere. “And I also wanted to tell you... I envy you.”

Rook’s head snapped up in surprise. “Envy me?”

Neve gave a small, bittersweet smile. “He’s a good man, apart from the whole abomination thing he’s got going on.” Her smile widened slightly, a hint of humor in her voice. “I’ll admit, I entertained the idea of him and me once. But it was clear his heart had already chosen another.”

Rook opened her mouth to respond, but Neve cut her off gently.

“Like all men, he’s a bit of an idiot, and he’s made mistakes,” Neve said, her gaze steady. “But if you let him, he’ll spend the rest of his life making it up to you.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Rook admitted, her voice quieter now. “I do feel stupid for being unkind to you. I’m sorry about that.”

Neve waved the apology away with a small smile. “No need for deep and meaningfuls, Rook. We’re both busy women with jobs to do. But tonight?” She stepped closer, her expression softening. “You have a date with a Crow.”

Rook shifted awkwardly, Neve’s eyes scanning her as if assessing her readiness. “I know,” Rook said, glancing down at herself. “I’m in my leathers. I probably should have dressed—”

Neve cut her off with a laugh. “I saw Lucanis leave for the Eluvian. He was dressed in his too. Are you Crows ever not on the clock?”

Rook chuckled despite herself. “You’ve met my boss, right? Viago?”

Neve grinned. “Point taken.” She reached for the door, her hand hovering for a moment before turning back. “Anyway, enjoy your evening. I hope it’s everything you need and want.”

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

Davrin had insisted on accompanying her through the Eluvian to Treviso, despite her protests.

“You didn’t need to escort me, Dav,” Rook said as they stepped out into the bustling city. She smoothed down her cloak, her tone exasperated but affectionate. “I’m more than capable of navigating a city I’ve lived in most of my life.”

“Yeah, I know,” Davrin replied with a casual shrug. “But I did need to come here. Lucanis has me set up with his blacksmith. And, well…” He paused, glancing sideways at her. “I wanted to make sure you got here okay. If things go south, you know I’m around.”

Rook nudged him with her elbow, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I’ve never had a brother, but you are bordering on the whole ‘protective big brother’ vibes right now. And I have to say, it suits you.”

Davrin smiled shyly, looking away as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I know you’re pissed at Dellamorte,” he said softly. “I get it. But let him speak. Give him a chance, Rook.”

She sighed, her gaze dropping for a moment. “I’m not that angry anymore. I spoke to Neve before heading here—she came to my room.”

Davrin raised an eyebrow, his expression suddenly amused. “Please tell me she left said room. I know what you Crows are like,” he added with a chuckle.

Rook rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. “She’s very much alive, thank you. And she said something… odd. Something I wasn’t expecting.”

“Oh?” Davrin leaned in, curious.

“She said she was envious of me,” Rook admitted, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Davrin stopped in his tracks, raising both eyebrows now. “Well, well,” he said with exaggerated flair. “It seems we’ve come full circle. Now she’s jealous of you! I believe I’m experiencing whiplash.”

As they walked along the bustling streets of her hometown, Rook couldn’t ignore the faint queasiness in her stomach. She wasn’t angry anymore—not really. More… disgruntled. But there was no venom behind the feeling now. Lucanis had made a mistake, and, if she was being honest with herself, she’d probably blown it out of proportion—a tendency she sometimes leaned into more than she should.

At least she’d managed to entertain everyone at the Lighthouse with the intrigue and drama.

“Ahhh, I love it here,” Davrin mused, breaking her train of thought. His eyes roamed the lively street, the laughter and chatter of the city swirling around them. “Great atmosphere, excellent food, and some rather beautiful distractions for the taking.”

Rook rolled her eyes, her nerves briefly forgotten as she fought back a smirk.

“And it seems,” Davrin added with a dramatic flourish as they neared the café, “I have delivered you to your destination, my Queen.” He swept into an exaggerated bow, his grin practically splitting his face.

“Maker, you’re an idiot,” Rook said, shaking her head with a smile. “But I love you despite it.”

Davrin grinned and placed both hands firmly on her shoulders, leaning in just slightly. “You’ve got this, Rook. Go forth and get your man and—let him speak. He can actually be pretty good at it, you know, when he’s not saying all the wrong things.”

Rook took a deep breath, her nerves settling just enough to nod. “Wish me luck?” she asked, her voice wavering slightly.

Davrin shook his head, his grin softening into something more earnest. “Nah, you don’t need it. You’ve got this, girl. No luck required.”

He stepped ahead and held the door open for her. She squared her shoulders and walked through, the warm hum of the café greeting her as she crossed the threshold.

Davrin lingered outside for a moment, watching her disappear inside. He knew, deep down, it would all be okay. But still, a small pang of worry tugged at him—for his friend, for her heart, and for the man she was about to face.

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

The café was empty.

Anxiety, her old and unwelcome friend, crept up her spine as she glanced around the dimly lit space. Had she gotten the wrong day? The wrong time? Her stomach twisted uncomfortably as she dug into her bag, pulling out the note Lucanis had sent. She unfolded it with shaky fingers, scanning the words again, double-checking that she hadn’t misread anything.

No. She was in the right place.

But as her eyes flicked to the counter, the absence of anyone behind it made her chest tighten further. The café felt eerily quiet, the usual hum of conversation replaced by the soft ticking of a clock.

Now she felt like the idiot. Where was he? And why was she standing awkwardly in an empty coffee shop at eight o’clock at night?

As a Crow, this screamed assassination attempt, and the thought made her pulse quicken. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but her hand instinctively drifted to the hilt of the blade hidden beneath her cloak.

Not that she’d ever killed anyone with a dirk before—magic was her usual go-to—but the weight of the blade under her fingers offered some small comfort. Her unease grew as she wandered further into the café, cautiously checking dark corners and peeking around the pillars.

She moved closer to the counter, her nerves prickling with every step, when suddenly, Lucanis popped up from behind it.

“Maker’s breath!” Rook yelped, jumping back, her heart hammering as she glared at him.

Lucanis stood there, his dark eyes warm as they met hers, and a small, gorgeous smile spread across his lips—the one that always managed to disarm her.

“Rook,” he said softly, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. “You came.”

“Why were you hiding behind the counter?!” Rook exclaimed, her voice sharp with surprise.

Lucanis straightened, brushing imaginary dust from his leathers. “I was looking for sugar,” he said matter-of-factly. “I know you like your coffee sweet and hot. Good news: I found it.”

He turned his attention to the coffee pot, busying himself with making their drinks as if nothing about this was out of the ordinary.

Rook crossed her arms, glancing around the empty café. “And you now own this place?” she asked, her tone tinged with amusement.

Lucanis smirked, glancing at her over his shoulder. “I asked the owner for a favor and promised to pay him back with a free contract.”

Rook blinked in surprise before letting out a laugh. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or not,” she said, shaking her head. “You never work for free.”

“Sometimes I do,” Lucanis said with a small smile, handing her the steaming cup. “Let’s sit… the table over there.”

He gestured toward a cozy corner, and Rook’s gaze followed. The table had been set perfectly, a small display of her favorite desserts arranged neatly on a plate, waiting for her.

Her lips twitched in a faint smile as she followed him. They settled into their chairs, and for a moment, a comfortable silence fell between them as they both enjoyed the first few sips of their drinks.

Lucanis leaned back, cradling his cup in his hands. “Good coffee...And yours?”

Rook took another sip, savoring the warmth and sweetness. It was perfect—just the way she liked it. “You know it’s good,” she replied, glancing at him over the rim of her cup. “If there’s one thing you never fail at, it’s making it exactly the way I like it.”

A satisfied smile spread across his face, lighting his dark eyes.

Setting her cup down, Rook slipped off her gloves and laid them neatly on the table, the nervous energy in her hands too much to contain. Lucanis noticed, of course—he always did. He knew her tells. Whenever she was anxious, she’d fidget, her fingers tracing the stitching of her coat over and over again or right now, fiddling with her gloves,

“Rook…” he began, his voice soft, testing the waters, “I’m sorry—” , but Rook cut him off.

“I know I’m an idiot,” she blurted, her words tumbling out in a rush. “I should have just told you, and instead it became this whole thing involving everyone, and I didn’t mean for it to get so... big. It was stupid of me.”

Lucanis watched her for a long moment, his gaze steady and unreadable. Then, without a word, he placed his hand gently over hers.

“Rook,” he said softly, his voice calm but firm. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what? I’m not doing anything,” she replied, immediately defensive. She picked up her cup again, taking a long sip—anything to avoid his gaze.

“Blaming yourself. Apologising for things you don’t need to apologise for,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly against her knuckles. “I am the one to blame for your worries. I was the one who hurt you.”

“Yes, but you didn’t know,” Rook said quickly, her words tumbling out before she could think better of them. “And if I hadn’t been so damn stubborn—or dare I say petulant—I could have just told you. But I felt… well, I did feel stupid.”

Lucanis opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off, her voice softening as she admitted, “You were an arse though.”

A faint smile flickered across his face, but he stayed quiet, waiting.

“Why did you do it?” she asked, her eyes meeting his briefly before darting away. “It’s okay if you want to—”

She stopped herself mid-sentence, before her mouth could betray her further, she grabbed one of the neatly arranged cakes from the plate and shoved it into her mouth.

It worked—a bit too well. She sat frozen for a moment, cheeks puffed with cake, as the realisation of what she’d just done hit her. Across the table, Lucanis raised an eyebrow, the corners of his lips twitching as he tried not to laugh.

It took forever to get through the sugary treat—she’d completely forgotten how chewy they were. Looking effortlessly graceful with a mouthful of cake was not the impression she’d been going for.

Lucanis, ever observant, seized the opportunity to speak before she could finish. It might be the only way to get a word in.

“Yes,” he began, his tone quiet but deliberate. “I fully accept your blunt observation of myself.”

Rook raised an eyebrow at him, still chewing, but didn’t interrupt.

“Why I did it?” Lucanis continued, his gaze dropping briefly to the table. “It’s… was easy to flirt with Neve. A distraction from what’s in my mind, who shares my body, and everything else—fighting Gods, dealing with the Blight…” He paused, his voice softening. “But, also, it means nothing. And when it means nothing, there’s no possibility of consequences.”

“Consequences?” she managed, still chewing, her words slightly muffled.

“Yes,” Lucanis replied, his voice steady but quieter now. “If I don’t say those things to you, it’s not because I don’t notice you, enjoy your company, or desire someone else. It’s quite the opposite.”

Rook froze mid-chew, her eyes widening slightly as she watched him, his gaze fixed firmly on her.

“But how would you know this?” he continued, his tone filled with a rare vulnerability. “I’ve never told you. And I have never reciprocated any of the affection you have so generously given me.”

“But you said consequences, and I’m still not following,” Rook said, finally finishing her cake.

Lucanis sighed, frustration flickering across his face. Maker, he wished he were better with words—like his cousin Illario. “Honestly, I don’t know what the fuck I’m trying to say right now.” He ran a hand through his hair, glancing away before meeting her eyes again.

“I’m not good at this, Rook,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “But I struggle with you because… because you mean something to me. You’re not just a distraction. You’re something that has—” He hesitated, the next word slipping out before he could stop it. “...weight.”

He saw her gaze drop instantly to her coffee, her expression unreadable.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Lucanis’s stomach dropped. Why the fuck did you say that? Davrin had specifically told him not to mention the word weight.

“Yes, I’m aware I have ‘weight,’” she replied, her tone dry as she raised an eyebrow at him.

Lucanis opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off, gesturing to the plate. “Thank you for highlighting that right after watching me devour at least three of these cakes.”

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a mock-serious expression. “And for the record, they were delicious, and I have zero regrets eating them.”

“What I meant is… you’re special to me,” Lucanis said, his voice quieter now, his dark eyes meeting hers. “To Spite, as well. And that’s dangerous to admit. It’s information that could be used against me—or you. And Maker knows Viago will not be pleased.”

He paused, frustration clear on his face. “I never flirted with you because… because I care for you. More than a friend.” His voice softened, the words weighted with sincerity. “Hopefully, I get to be more. But I’m the most foolish of men when it comes to matters of the heart. I’m not good at… any of this.”

Rook’s gaze shifted, taking in the café around her. The warm, romantic glow of the lights, the beautifully laid-out table, the intimacy of the setting—it all seemed so deliberate, so unlike the Lucanis she thought she knew.

Her eyes landed back on him, and she arched an eyebrow. “You’re not good at being romantic? Or apologies? Because, by the way, you still haven’t said sorry.”

“Despite my Antivan heritage, we aren’t all blessed with my cousin’s gift for romance,” Lucanis said with a wry smile. “But I’ll try—for you.”

He stood, pushing his chair back with a soft scrape against the floor, and stepped around the table.

“And this,” he continued, his voice dropping to something softer, almost reverent, “is where I kneel at your feet and beg for your forgiveness.”

Before Rook could react, he sank to one knee before her, taking her hand gently in his. His eyes lifted to meet hers, his expression utterly sincere.

“I am sorry,” he began, his voice steady but weighted with emotion. “For any hurt I caused you. I am sorry for my misplaced charm. I am sorry for letting you think you are anything less than breathtaking to me.”

Her breath caught, the words hitting her like a wave.

“I am sorry you ever felt you were not enough,” he went on, his thumb brushing softly against her knuckles, “when you are—more than enough in every way a woman can be. I am sorry. Truly sorry.”

He paused, his voice softening even further as he added, “If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I swear to you—you will never doubt my affection for you for as long as I breathe.”

Rook sat in silence, her gaze fixed on the man kneeling before her. She turned her hand slightly in his, lacing her fingers through his as she searched for the right words.

“How am I supposed to stay angry at you now?” she said finally, her voice soft but tinged with exasperation. “The cakes, the candlelight, and that—” she gestured toward him with her free hand—“what you just said… Maker’s breath, you’re impossible.”

Lucanis’s lips curved into a hesitant smile, hope flickering in his eyes.

She sighed, shaking her head slightly. “And… I forgive you,” she added, her voice steady now, but her cheeks flushed.

“But I swear,” Rook continued, her eyes narrowing slightly, “if you ever make me feel that way again, I’ll take a contract out on you. Better than that—” she leaned forward, her tone dropping for emphasis—“I’ll kill you myself.”

Lucanis tilted his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he rose to his feet.

“I’d like to see you try,” he replied smoothly, settling back into his chair across from her, “Promise me there will be lots of struggling,” Lucanis added, his voice dropping into a playful drawl. “Rolling around, grabbing for each other’s daggers…” He leaned forward slightly, a wicked glint in his eyes. “And sweaty. It’ll be sweaty, right?”

Urrgghhhh. She hated it when he turned it back on her like that.

Rook crossed her arms, trying to maintain her composure, but she could feel the heat creeping into her cheeks. She wasn’t nearly as good as he was at making death threats sound… sultry.

“You’re insufferable,” she muttered, grabbing her coffee and taking a long sip to avoid saying anything else that might give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d flustered her.

“Are you flirting with me, Dellamorte?” Rook asked, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “I thought you didn’t do that.”

Lucanis leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “First time for everything, de Riva,” he replied smoothly. “You could say I’m making up for lost time.”

“I’m not sure if I should say yes or no,” Rook admitted, a nervous smile playing at her lips.

Lucanis leaned forward slightly, his gaze steady, his voice soft but teasing. “Say yes. Take a risk. See what happens.”

He could see the conflict in her eyes, the struggle between protecting her heart and giving in to her curiosity.

“Yes,” she said finally, her voice quiet but steady.

Lucanis half-smiled, standing as he offered his hand. She took it, and together they walked to the balcony overlooking the canal. The soft light reflected off the water below, casting shimmering patterns onto the stone railing.

He leaned against the cool stone, his hand still firmly holding hers.

“So… I said yes, and now we’re looking at…” Rook began, her voice tinged with nervous humor.

“For the love of the Maker, Rook,” Lucanis interrupted, turning to face her fully. “Shut up and let me kiss you. Just stop… talking.”

Before she could respond, he closed the distance between them, his mouth brushing against hers in a soft, deliberate kiss. His arm slid around her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened, and Rook melted into him, her heart racing.

He was a good kisser.

Cliché as it was, she slowed time around them with a spell, savoring the moment as the rest of the world blurred into nothing.

Lucanis smiled against her lips, not breaking the kiss, his voice low and warm. “I know what you’re doing, Rook,” he murmured, his lips still grazing hers.

And she didn’t care.

[delirious-donna]

Kento finds your journal and vows to return it, but not before he accidentally sneaks a peek… or, the time he read that you wanted to climb him like a tree.

Oh fuck - no! No no no. Please don’t have read it. I’ll do all my weekend chores rather than playing videogames and I’ll even unpack that final box that has been sitting in the spare room if you’ll do me this one solid favour.

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

tw: embarrassing situations, teacher Kento and teacher reader, thigh riding, use of pet names (darling and sweetheart), dirty talk, Kento being more forward than usual, rewrite of an old story (it’s better now, promise), brief appearance of Satoru

The notebook caught his eye; magenta in colour, clearly well-thumbed and definitely not meant to be here, in the teacher’s lounge. He rolled his neck against the uncomfortably lumpy couch until the cracking noise of stiff joints popping made him wince.

With a resigned grunt, Kento sat forward and glanced at his watch.

His next class was due to begin in ten minutes and if he were honest, he felt rather unmotivated to inspire the next generation on this particular day, a feeling that was becoming painfully regular. Fixing the knot of his tie, which he had loosened upon entering the lounge, he lamented on how every day seemed to bleed into each other.

It had been so stiflingly long since anything new or of interest had occurred and he was starting to feel drained from the mundane, walking through each day like a zombie. Heaven help him, it was a frighteningly familiar feeling.

On his way towards the door, he picked up the offending notebook that was stuck between the couch cushions and glanced at it curiously. Your name was emblazoned on the front cover, written in glittery silver ink. Nanami passed a finger over the lettering, his lips tilting into a thin smile at how irreverent it appeared.

He knew you were a few years younger than he was, that you had only become a teacher at the start of this academic year after a sudden change in career, and to say you were a little shy would be a gross understatement. Kento could probably count the times you had spoken to him on one hand, and each one had been a rushed experience, as if you couldn’t wait to retreat from his presence–was he really that intimidating?

At that rather depressing thought, he resumed walking, intent on delivering your notebook before arriving at his own classroom to greet his darling little bastards charges for the afternoon lecture.

Of course, things would never be that simple, nor straightforward when you worked alongside Satoru Gojo.

The white-haired whirlwind hurtled into him as soon as he ventured into the hall. A barking laugh bounced off the walls as Gojo clapped him heartily on the back and effectively knocked the notebook from his grasp to flutter to the floor.

“Ah, Nanami-san, just the man I was looking for,” he thundered. “Could you do your bestest friend in the whole world a favour?”

“If you are referring to yourself with that sentiment, Gojo, then the answer is of course, no.”

Satoru pouted, Kento grimaced.

Celestial blue eyes peered over the rim of his round sunglasses whilst Kento bent to retrieve the book that had tumbled out of his hands and was now spread open at his feet. His eyes narrowed on the hastily scrawled text that he couldn’t quite make out, but… that was his name that he was staring at.

He was aware that Satoru was still talking, the man would continue to ramble away to himself forever, but Kento held his hand aloft to cease the incessant drone.

A strange, but not unpleasant heat coursed through his veins, and something he hadn’t felt in the longest time stirred in his chest. The wild thump of his heart drowned out his pesky colleague’s yammering as he was finally able to read the line of text that referred to him. A sentence that you had hastily scrawled and then ringed again and again with a fluffy cloud border.

Why does Nanami-san have to be so goddamn big and sexy? What I wouldn’t give to climb him like a tree…

He was sure that he could feel the warmth spread up his neck, his collar suddenly too tight, and his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed the runny saliva pooling inside his mouth.

It would be a lie to say he hadn’t admired you, although always from afar. He knew he wasn’t the most social of men, a sentiment his annoying friend constantly reminded him of. Added to the fact that Kento had been sure you were terrified of him, and he had no intention of making you feel uncomfortable, he kept his distance and his daydreaming to himself and the privacy of his bedroom and shower.

Only now, did he wonder if that discomfort had been something else entirely…

“Will you do it?” Satoru asked, shaking his arms with his long spindly fingers and offering a wide cocky smile.

“I wasn’t listening, and no. I’m going to be busy,” he replied, brushing his fellow teacher’s hand from his forearms and pushing past him to his classroom.

He could care less for the deflated look that the snowy-haired menace threw over his shoulder, there were more important matters on his mind and a knowing smirk curved his lips. The smirk was mirrored by the very man he gave his back to, and that was just fine in his book.

No longer did he detour to return the notebook. Oh no--he’d deliver it back to you safe and sound once the day was over and everyone else had cleared out.

~

It had been a long day. A tiring one too, and the prospect of spending your precious evening hours behind your desk marking exams and writing assignment commentary was unwelcome.

As if the universe could hear your lament, they sent you a curve ball you could never see coming…

A determined knock shook you from your thoughts. The pen in your hand fell to the desk at the same moment you leaned back in your chair, inviting your unexpected visitor to enter.

Your mouth ran dry as the very man you least expected to be calling in on you, walked inside. Least expected but most wanted, secretly, of course. There was no way you were earning yourself a reputation for flirting with your colleagues, even if he was so painfully handsome it made you chew the insides of your cheeks every time you were in his presence. Not because you were shy, because you were a little, but because you didn’t trust what might come out of your mouth! Best to keep those thoughts inside your head where they were safe.

Kento turned to shut the door, the lock flicking silently into place so as to avoid any embarrassing interruptions, before he bowed his head in greeting.

“Nanami-san, what can I do for you?” you asked, impressed that you had managed to speak without tripping over your words. It was certainly an improvement on previous attempts.

It was near impossible not to admire him as he stood near the back of the class. The collar of his azure dress shirt had been loosened, the tie askew as if he had been pulling at them both with insistent fingers. Fingers that were currently drumming against the taut muscles of his forearms. There was something about a man with his sleeves rolled to the elbows that never failed to send you into a feral kind of heat, and right now was no different.

Why did he have to look so downright tantalising? Why did your thighs have to clench together like you were some horny beast in an actual heat?

The aloof expression, the way that he seemed to caress you with his hazel eyes and the simple pleasure of how big he was. At the end of the day, you were no better than an animal, and you animal brain was saying that big was good. Big would rock your world given the chance.

“I found something that belongs to you and thought I should return it,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Oh? That’s kind of you, what is it?”

You wondered what he could have found, mentally scanning your memory of something you might have misplaced or been looking for. Standing, you took two steps forward but froze in place at the sight of your personal notebook held in his large hand. Surely your heart had seized in your chest, it certainly felt like it had.

Oh fuck - no! No no no. Please don’t have read it. I’ll do all my weekend chores rather than playing videogames and I’ll even unpack that final box that has been sitting in the spare room if you’ll do me this one solid favour.

Your eyes widened, looking from the notebook to his face and back again. For a second you thought your silent pleas had been answered, but when had life ever been so benevolent to you before? Kento winked almost imperceptibly, and you wished that a sink hole would form beneath your feet to save you from this mortification.

Heat rose to your cheeks in rushing waves. You swayed unsteadily on the spot with your hand outstretched for the book, desperate for some distance but needing the offending item back in your possession.

Kento chuckled and the deep baritone rumble felt as if the sound resonated within your own body. It stroked at you with exploratory phantom touches although he hadn’t moved. Your every muscle tightened whilst you waited for him to hand over the notebook that held some of your wildest fantasies.

When he held it over his head instead of depositing it into your awaiting sweaty paws, you swore it felt like the air was sucked from the room. It seemed like he had read a very specific piece of information, and you would die of embarrassment.

“I suggest…” he drawled almost lazily. “That if you want it back, you best climb me for it.”

“You—you weren’t meant to read that,” you whispered, staring into the depths of the floor.

A pair of sturdy but unassuming boots came into view. You frowned, surprised.

Two fingers fit beneath your chin and raised your head up to meet his gaze. There was a prominent frown between his eyes that hadn’t been there seconds prior, and you couldn’t help but admire his sharply angular face even if you were doing your best to look anywhere but into his eyes.

“I apologise… perhaps that was a bit too forward. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but you see... I’ve thought about you a lot and not just because I found your notebook? Journal? Doesn’t matter.” Kento exhaled through his nose, jaw tightening. “You think I’m big? I don’t see it myself, but then I was never my best critic.”

You nodded in affirmation, where was the point in denying it now? His eyes softened, crinkles forming in the outer corners whilst his thumb lightly grazed your jaw. Roasted coffee grounds and notes of sandalwood invaded your nose as his head bent lower, towards your ear.

“Then I will repeat myself only once, sweetheart, climb me if you want it back.”

And so, you did.

You climbed him like a feral little animal.

You reached the offending notebook and hurled it to the floor without a second thought. His laughter was warm and the most boisterous you had heard from him. It made you follow through with your impulse to hook your arms around his strong neck, fingers curling into the rough undercut at his nape. Your legs were quick to follow, circling his waist until your entire front rocked into the wall of muscles that was his body.

“Tell me, what else have you put in that saucy little journal about me, hm?”

“You didn’t read it all?” you asked, almost shocked at his level of restraint if it were true.

Kento shook his head, and you believed him. He wasn’t one for lying. “I wanted to hear them from your mouth.”

“Oh… that’s… mm. Anyone ever told you that you’re as perfect as a fictional man, preferably one created by a woman? Don’t answer that,” you clamoured, pressing your hand across his mouth as it stretched open to reply.

“There’s—uh—this one thing.” You nudged the tip of his nose with yours, moving to speak directly into his ear.

Kento’s breath caught in his throat as you whispered about getting off on his thigh, his hold at your waist, which has stayed appropriate until then, tightened and moved towards your backside—squeezing.

With you still attached to him like a koala, he seated himself on the edge of your desk, lowering you until you were spread over one of his incredibly thick thighs. Your skirt bunched around your middle to accommodate the position as his expansive palms wandered your sides, pawing at your hips and palming your ass with a groan.

In no time at all he was dragging you along the length of his thigh. Your underwear was ruined by this point, your clit throbbed from the friction, the seam of yours and his clothing catching you in deliciously new ways and you still hadn’t kissed him.

You remedied this terrible oversight with enthusiasm, delighting when he startled at your forwardness before he melted, shoulders sagging. It was everything and more. No fantasy could live up to the reality. Kento kissed softly, thoroughly. Whilst he continued to lead the rhythm of your body as you rode his thigh, he was more than happy to let you lead here.

His mouth was surprisingly hot for a man who always seemed to remain cool and composed, a deep groan rumbled in his throat when you curled around his tongue and sucked on the warm, wet muscle. The warmly spiced scent and taste of Kento filled your lungs and evaporated any sense of reason you might have had about making out with a fellow teacher in your classroom. It didn’t matter. Only this mattered.

“Feel good?” he asked as you parted for much-needed air. His rough fingers gripped into the fat of your behind, reaching beneath the hem of your skirt to bunch the cotton of your underwear until he was forcing the material between your slick pussy lips.

You nodded enthusiastically, drawing his lower lip into your mouth and sucking on the tender flesh in earnest. Kento was manhandling you in a way that would make any staunch feminist blanch, but it was exactly what you wanted, exactly what you needed.

“You’re making a mess on me, darling.”

“So, I’m you’re darling, am I?” You quipped back despite sounding out of breath. He was right about the mess, there was an embarrassingly long wet streak on his tailored slacks from being manipulated along his thigh. You were fucking yourself against the strong muscles that flexed beneath you and leaving the evidence for anyone to see.

“I think I’d like that,” he admitted with a hum, planting kisses to your neck and collarbone.

Your orgasm was coming in fast; the combination of the friction against your clenching cunt, the large palms gripping into your ass as if he owned it and his delicious mouth teasing your skin was speeding you towards the finish line in haste. His admittance that he might like some kind of relationship with you was the final nail in your coffin, so to speak.

“Nanami-san!”

Blond hair fell into your vision, urgent lips pressing open-mouthed kisses to your cleavage and the swell of your breasts. His tongue flickered at your flesh, warming you up before sucking possessive purple bruises that would be hard to explain later.

“Kento,” he breathed against your collarbone, “call me Kento, my darling.”

Gods, could he be any more perfect? It was as if he knew exactly what to do and say to set you off like a firecracker!

You shrieked in surprise when Kento lifted you like you weighed nothing—you most definitely did not weigh nothing. He held you tight as he turned your body so your back was flush with his chest, rearranging you over his broad thigh once more but this time you could feel the prod of his prominent erection at the outside of your hip. It was thick and imposing, distracting but only in that you wondered what it would look like, feel like—in your hand and stretching your walls.

“Go on, be a good girl and get yourself off on my thigh,” he cooed, nipping at your earlobe.

Kento grabbed at your breasts, squeezing the doughy mounds between his fingers whilst you rode his thigh to completion, pinching you through lace and chiffon. The orgasm that hit was staggering; it stole the air from your lungs, the equilibrium of your body and the sight from your eyes.

White lights pulsed behind your eyelids as you gushed like a surging waterfall over his trousers, ruining your underwear and skirt in the process. It would be embarrassing if it wasn't for the primal-sound growl that emanated from his chest. The almost bestial sounding war cry that made you shiver whilst you floated back down from ecstasy.

“Atta girl. There it is. Mhm, so good for me. So receptive. Can I take you home?” Kento asked, his voice thick and strained with unspoken emotion. “Cause I think it’s my turn now, and I can't wait to see how goddamn perfect you’re gonna look taking my cock.”

You smiled, drunk on the bliss. “Sure thing, big boy, but let’s not make this our get together story for the grandkids, yeah?”

You were so glad he found your notebook, even if you had no idea that it was Satoru Gojo that you needed to thank in the first place...

[theformulaimagines]

Look at that woman (breaking my heart) | part 10

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Vettel!Reader

Summary: For one and a half years Lewis and y/n managed to keep their relationship a secret, until it blew up in their faces. Now, they're trying their hardest to pick up the pieces...

Warnings: angst but fluff at the end

masterlist

h44_milton has made a tik tok

(song used: i love you so by the walters)

916,333 likes and 19,514,826 replays

noella44: gang wake up it is time to suffer :(( they’re apparently on a break- so we won’t get any more cute interactions … #y/nandlewis

view all comments…

user 1: this is tragic on so many levels

user 2: i feel like if they hadn’t been exposed they would’ve been endgame

user 3: @/user2 ikr!! seemed really genuine

user 4: DEVASTATED

keena_044 has made a tik tok

(song used: futile devices by sufjan stevens)

87,018 likes and 614,927 replays

keena: „i think of you as my brother although that seems dumb“ #y/nandlewis

view all comments…

user 1: casually cried before work

user 2: now why would you do this to me???

user 3: woah

user 4: it’s been a MONTH AND WE HAVE NO STATEMENT WHATSOEVER YET

user 5: we saw the rise and fall of them in real time i can’t do this

She hears how the door to the balcony opens again. “I told you, I‘m not hungry.“

“Hey.”

At the sound of the more than familiar voice, Y/N instantly turns her head. Her eyes widen while she merely stares. The way he’s awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other while his eyes are becoming shiny. Her left hand flies up to cover her mouth, before she quickly stands up to rush over to him. However, nothing could stifle the guttural sob that escapes her lips the moment his arms wrapped around her to pull her close.

“Hey, hey.”, Lewis whispers, while holding back tears himself:” It’s- it’s okay.” They stay like that for a few minutes before Y/N ultimately pulls back. Her eyes are roaming over his features as if he’s worried she’ll going to forget them. His thumb wipes away the tears.

“Oh my God? Lewis, what are you doing here?“, she asks, a teary chuckle leaving her. He can’t help but echo her, his much larger hand cupping her face:“ I just had to see you. I was at home with my parents and we just- they both kept on talking about this whole thing. And I know they meant well, but the only one I want to talk to about this is you.“

“But what about our managers? They both-.“ “Well, fuck them.”, Lewis cuts her off, leaving her gazing at him with an open mouth. He playfully rolls his teary eyes before cracking a smile:” What do they know? Right?”

Y/N smiles softly at him, something inside of her is waking up again. She nods:” Yeah. What do they know?”

Inside Sebastian is standing next to Hanna with his arms crossed:” Still can’t believe it.” It makes his wife laugh, while she lays her head on his shoulder.” Lewis is a good guy, one of the best. I say it’s a match.” It makes him scoff:” I’m still concerned about the media. When they’re back on the track they’ll be treated like prey. I just know it.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”, She sighs:” But they have one another, that’s probably going to be enough.”

[accio-victuuri]

BURN AFTER READING. 🍭🍬

i have never made a post with this title before, but i have shared some cpn/speculation that deserve to be burned after reading. lol. this term is often used by cpfs for a candy or info related to the boys that may be “dangerous” — so you have to get rid of it after reading. but for my version of it, let’s describe it as something that is a level up from galaxy brain cpn. it’s the kind of cpn you will think twice or thrice before making up your mind about. 💫

we have (2) topics here and just a disclaimer that i am not confirming anything here. this content is for cpf only. don’t take it seriously!

(1) Who is An Huibo 安慧博?

fans noticed that there was a “stand in” credited for the we and life of us music videos and that is this person. think of it as a body double. it makes sense cause aside from that scene in WE, there are times that xz’s figure is against a backdrop so maybe they needed someone to do that. the clowning began when people were thinking about, what if the other xz in WE mv is actually WYB ⬇️⬇️⬇️

i can think of a couple of different reasons why this could be false but the strongest explanation for me is that xz will not allow wyb to so something like this. he is very superstitious. even if this is just acting, he will not allow them to act out a scene of betrayal. that for me is enough to shut this all down. but on the flipside, maybe wyb wanted him (xz) to play his first villain role opposite him in this music video.

now we have the reasons why fans think this is something worth looking at:

1. XZ and this An Huibo are the only 2 credited actors for both MVs. so it seems kinda special.

2. The director of this is LIN, the same one who directed WYB’s redmi advertisement. There are some CPNs both were made at the same studio. Which makes sense cause LIN has his own shooting studio. There is another separate CPN about this but the gist is we think this director is familiar with both of them. So XZ may be comfortable enough to bring WYB along and even include him in the video.

3. It may not be WYB himself, but he used that name to troll us. It’s so close, Huibo. Yibo.

4. I saw this explanation as well:

If "Anhuibo" is read according to the French transliteration as An Huibo, it would approximately read:

[ã чi bɔ]

·ã: similar to "ang";

·qi: similar to "wei" in Chinese, but lighter and soft;

·bo: similar to "wave", slightly shorter.

5. As a CPF, it’s so easy for our alarm bells to ring if you read that name. An alias of sorts for Bobo. some are saying he used this kind of jumbled name to combat the bad aura of their scene together. Since he is superstitious, this removes yibo’s name and identity as the stand in who stabbed XZ’s character. if that makes sense.

maybe we will know more when they release the behind the scenes video. that is if they show who this stand in is. let’s add this to the bjyx clowning vault in the meantime.

(2) XZ look-alike in the recent GRA

i was talking to @rainbowsky about this and my initial reaction was, cpn aside, i’m surprised at how people notice these things! which i actually should be used to considering turtle’s attention to detail, but still!

so here is the “evidence”

👀👀👀👀

like all other turtles, i’m someone who has stared at tons of photos of XZ. so i can totally understand why people would look twice at this person. i get i. i was staring at this photo for so long as well. however most of the cpfs comment on this is against this candy and they have valid reasons:

1. Why would he attend and be in the audience? XZ is someone lowkey so if he was there to accompany WYB, he will be backstage. Yes he is brave, but not like this — which seems almost careless.

2. There are names on the chair, so it’s not like anyone can just sit there casually.

3. Even if you believe in the probability, CPFs don’t wanna talk much about it cause it can be anti material. Saying XZ has to hide and can’t show his face in GRA. or why is he even there incognito when he doesn’t even have a project nominated. You all know how it goes, antis can twist the narrative. Plus we don’t want to accidentally expose them if this was true. We should not observe too much and post about it cause it will make it harder for them to do something similar in the future.

4. How did this person go unnoticed? Everyone had to get inside the security and there are cameras everywhere. He should have removed his cap and mask which — it’s impossible for someone to not notice XZ ( or is it? ). another thing is maybe he went to a diff entrance??

5. Some are washing it and saying it’s Yibo’s MUA.

Please take that last point i mentioned and carry it over to the reason why this look alike is sus. People are able to confirm that this is not WYB’s MUA because he was wearing a different cap. Even the hair and daresay the ears are not the same. and why would a MUA even be there? If WYB needs touch ups then they should do it backstage. If for some reason it has to be while the broadcast and recording was not on or was on a break, he should not sit there and act like a guest.

Yibo’s MUA, Wang Yiduo has been with him for years. He has years of experience being around celebrities and attending these events before WYB. So he knows the decorum. He will not sit there and act like a guest just because he feels like it.

I’m curious too, who is this person who can walk in— in an event filled with people that are dressed up and then come in with a mask and casual clothes. To be allowed to sit there. Who is special enough? Probably a celebrity? and that’s why some think it could be XZ. Even the staff and assistants during the event are dressed up which made this person stand out. As for the CPN explanation, it’s nice to think that XZ is so proud of Yibo’s nomination that he has to be there. He will find a way to be in the audience and witness this special moment. 💕

I think this can easily be analyzed more if we have the video but i don’t have time to rewatch the whole GRA and wait for this cut. Cause i wanna know if it’s even there, that’s how much we question things here! 🤣 It’s so sus to me that we only have the screenshots and no video when CPFs are notorious for having concrete evidence. personally, it reminds me of the SDC3 incident but this one is still pretty outrageous considering it is a public event.

take what you want with this information. and as always, when it comes to BJYX: ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

sources: one/ two

[fairylibe]

between us and the moon.

1415 words. angst with some comfort, highly interpretive. based on jude's past records. features: child! jude jazza & kate, victor.

꒰ summary ꒱ kate gives child! jude a hug. some inspiration was taken from this fanart.

(I)

wherever he went, the moon followed.

the moonlight seemed so bright, jude couldn’t help but look down at the concrete.

today as well, the work was grueling.

but when he saw a familiar figure upon pushing the heavy door open, his heart lightened up just a little, and his features softened a tad.

“big brother, you’re home! what took ya so long?”

“took a detour.” jude collapsed on the floor, letting out a sigh.

the person before him tilted their head. “from where? goin’ through the nooks n’ crannies this time o’ night can be dangerous, ya know.”

jude closed his eyes for a moment — when he did, an image flashed in his mind.

“…today was a full moon.”

“hehe, thinkin’ ‘bout our promise? don’t go thinkin’ ‘bout breakin’ it.”

jude showed a small smile.

“…don’t matter if i gotta use money, magic, ya name it. someday, i’ll make it happen.”

——how could he not, when the image in his mind was engraved in his soul so deeply?

indeed, it was so clear, it could probably last ten thousand years.

(II)

“wow, the moon is so big…” as kate walked down the hallway, she looked out the window.

outside, the moon hung from the sky, so full and large she felt she could touch it.

“they say witchcraft’s at its strongest when the moon is at its largest.”

“eek!” kate jumped and turned around, seeing victor standing right behind her. “v-victor! don’t scare me like that!”

“haha, you must’ve been fairly out of it if you didn’t notice. bewitched by the moon tonight?”

“hm? oh, i guess…” kate’s voice trailed off as she looked back out the window.

victor’s gaze followed, his voice remaining lighthearted. “i have a tickling feeling some magic is going to happen tonight.”

kate chuckled as well at his somewhat theatric words. “what, are you holding another magic show?”

“aw, miss kate, could it be you miss my magic shows? you know i’m always happy to show you my tricks.” victor’s eyes were like crescents as he smiled, but then his expression recomposed. “…but i mean a different type of magic this time.”

“a different type?”

the corner of his lips quirked up as he brought his index finger up.

“be careful when opening doors after the clock strikes midnight. if you open the wrong door at the wrong time, i can’t guarantee you will be able to return safely until the next full moon.”

(III)

“▧▧▧▧, ya doin’ okay?”

they laid on the bed — a far cry from the energetic disposition they had just some time before.

now, coughing was a regular occurrence. sometimes, they would shiver as well.

jude held onto their hand, grasping it as tightly as his coarse fingers could.

it was as though he wanted to capture any sign of warmth.

or before that, he wanted to find a semblance of it.

“i’m…sorry…”

their voice came out as a raspy whisper before more coughing resounded in the room. the hand jude held gently held his back in a silent urge for him to relax.

although it did little to ease his mind.

after all, what they had couldn’t be treated without medicine.

and medicine costed money — more money than what he could currently make in a year, he reckoned.

jude clicked his tongue, more so annoyed at himself than anything else. but this only elicited an amused, albeit weak chuckle from his sibling.

“why so hard on yourself?” ▧▧▧▧ lifted jude’s hand, and he let them guide his hand as though they were the moon. “…you’re already like the moon to me. so that’s why…”

“▧▧▧▧…” jude’s voice trailed off, his amethyst eyes becoming more misty as he heard their voice fade into a whisper.

“that’s why…if i can stay by your side…that is more than enough.”

“then i’ll stay by your side,” jude replied, “it’s a promise ‘til the end.”

they gave jude a smile before turning their head to look up at the moon, high above the sky.

“i wonder how far the moon is,” they murmured.

jude didn’t know the answer then.

he eventually did find out —— but only when their voice faded to nothingness.

(IV)

kate couldn’t get victor’s words out of her head.

maybe he was indeed joking, but also…what if he was not? what would happen, then, were she to open a door she shouldn’t have?

sighing while mulling over her own thoughts, she turned the doorknob to her door, eager to plop onto the soft sheets of her bed, when——

“ahhh?!”

opening the door, she was greeted by a blinding light.

so bright…!

it took her a minute to adjust to her surroundings, her eyes slowly presenting her with a sight that looked somewhat familiar, but was also a far cry from her room.

“w-w-w-wha…”

the first thing she saw was a fight breaking out.

or…it wasn’t so much of a fight as it was a child, a boy who couldn’t have passed his teen years, getting beaten by some adults.

what stood out to kate was the amethyst-colored eyes this child had, which seemed to gleam with an unyielding flame of determination, only kindled by the inevitable pain.

what is going on?!

kate was bewildered, for sure, but also, she wanted to help that child as well.

her body moved on her own then.

“stop right there!!”

the child’s eyes widened, but he quickly recomposed himself. it would appear he was accustomed to such situations.

the attackers tried to retaliate, but they didn’t know that kate had a good mentor named roger when it came to the art of self defense.

when the attackers fled (not without spitting on the ground in contempt though), kate turned toward the child.

it was then she noticed his silver hair with black streaks.

“you…”

is this jude?

kate reached out to him to check to see if he was hurt, but the boy slapped her hand away, shooting kate a glare.

“i never asked for your help, ya goody two shoes.”

well, that was more than enough to answer the question that popped into her mind some mere seconds before.

(V)

who knows how much time had passed.

the first few days, kate ran into (child) jude, and he would swat her hand away, glare at her, and run off somewhere she didn’t know.

he kind of reminded her of a cat.

but as a bit more time went on, the two started making small talk.

“how long are you going to eat stale bread?”

“none o’ ya darn business.”

“actually, i think i have very valid concerns about your health, jude——ah.”

kate put her hands over her mouth, but it was too late.

jude looked at her, his brows raised.

“i didn’t tell ya my name. what does that make ya, a stalker?”

“no way!”

and, as a week passed, kate would sometimes find jude sitting on top of some burlap sacks piled on top of one another, looking up at the sky.

usually, his amethyst eyes had some fire in them, but when they looked at the moon, they seemed so dull in comparison. it was like he was deep in thought, but said thoughts weighed down on him, making him look far from a child.

one day — or one night — for the first time perhaps, jude asked kate a question.

“…how far is the moon?”

“…around 385,000 kilometers.” adult you told me at one point, after all.

jude spared kate a side glance before looking back up. “…i see.” after a pause, his next words came out in a murmur. “maybe if i met ya sooner, things would’ve been different.”

somehow, seeing his profile in the darkness, illuminated only by the silver moonlight, made him seem infinitely lonely…

and kate couldn’t help herself as she wrapped her arms around jude.

at first, he stiffened, but he didn’t push her away; he likely didn’t have much vigor to do so at this point.

no words were exchanged between them, but none were needed.

but then, another question seemingly whispered in kate’s ears.

“then, do ya think it’s possible to go to the moon?”

it seemed like a simple question, and yet at the same time so vulnerable for a reason kate didn’t know of.

“yes,” she replied after a pause, “i do.”

“hah, ya sure know how to be a goody two shoes.”

but for the first time since she came to this mysterious world, she felt arms wrap around her back.

fin.

꒰ tag list . ꒱ @drachonia @weepinglycoris @velisle @candiedcoffeedrops @judesmoonbeauty @.comment to be added or removed!

[a-bad-case-of-the-stephs]

@duskdog

Hiiii! Been meaning to respond to this because you raised some really interesting ideas, sorry that it’s taken me a hot sec.

The crazy part is (like a lot of things about Steph) we get conflicting information about how Bruce sees Steph in relation to her father.

Steph consistently worries Batman is judging her by her fathers actions when she’s sanctioned at Spoiler. She identifies it as a potential reason the rest of the team doesn’t trust her.

This tracks with how Steph is shown to have a pattern of feeling responsible for the Cluemasters actions (which as I’ve mentioned before I see as an extension of her helplessness to protect herself and her mother from him during her childhood).

She identifies on multiple occasions that her choice to be the Spoiler is rooted in the misgivings of her father. Clear, easy example of this mindset is when she states because her dad is an asshole, she “has a lot to make up for” (Robin 80 Page Giant). She finds herself responsible in some part for his actions.

So it makes a lot of sense that Stephanie keeps asssuming other people are holding her to this same standard, judging her based off of her fathers criminal ways.

However, this assumption is not really substantiated.

I can’t think of a time Batman says or thinks anything which implies he gives a fuck who her dad is, besides when they first meet assuming she’s working with the Cluemaster instead of against him. (I’m not perfect however and I Might have missed one)

That is, until… Bruce Wayne: The Road Home Batgirl (🎉I love talking about BWTRHB!!!!! The worlds shittiest acronym!!!🎉)

After his little assessment and convo with Steph, Bruce tells Alfred that Stephanie and Wendy “need watching”, as their dads were both “criminals”.

This train of thought comes out of nowhere. As already stated, there’s very little evidence that Batman cared much that her dad was a criminal before this point.

Additionally, half his goddamn team has criminal fathers/mothers, ranging from mob bosses to goons to cult assassins to international terrorists. What is he even saying.

This is a total inconsistency. But I can see your view kinda accounts for that hypocrisy. If Bruce sees Cluemaster as a “lesser” threat and holds him in less esteem than the more formidable villain parents, it might explain why he seems to put this bonus emphasis on Stephs parentage. (Maybe he sees Stephs fathers criminal ways as more ‘mundane’ and therefore easier for her to slip into?)

I don’t think I’m totally sold on that idea, but it’s definitely interesting.

His statement feels just so out of nowhere (and again applies to half the people he works with) that I find it hard to believe this is a consistent concern of his.

Batman’s opinion on low level thugs varies (obviously by era and writer), but the versions of him I find most compelling are when he is shown to be sympathetic and willing to help people in shitty situations get out of them (even if they were doing crime beforehand). However it’s entirely possible (and probably equally substantiable) that he has unconscious and class based biases which might affect how he acts and treats certain characters.

I’m not nearly as intensely familiar with Jason’s character as I am Stephanie, so I’m low grade blanking on any good examples of how Bruce interacted w Jason’s background (besides his generally all consuming belief that Jason was on track to worse and worse crime and eventual death before Batman took him in).

Sorry this is pretty rambly, but I thought you brought up a Rly interesting point and i had some thoughts I wanted to add on

How Batman uses the idea of those "born for" vigilantism to justify working with Teen Vigilantes before and after the death of Jason Todd, and what it has to do with Stephanie Brown.

(DISCLAIMER: I'm not trying to condemn the concept of child/teen vigilantes in superhero comics, its a staple of the genre and dumb to condemn it like you would in the real world. I'm analyzing the times in which Bruce Wayne the character has questioned the concept himself, and the rationalizations he comes to about it)

By examining Bruce Waynes mindset immediately before, during, and after Jason Todd's deadly time as Robin, we can see how Batman rationalizes and justifies teenaged vigilantism.

When Dick Grayson as Robin is shot by the Joker, Batman essentially fires him from being Robin. Bruce entirely dismisses the concept of working with a "child" to fight crime. Batman seems to believe working with Dick as Robin is simply too dangerous.

Batman #408 (1940)

His Mindset at this point: Teenaged Vigilantism = Dangerous and Bad

But this, obviously, doesn't stick. It barely takes any time at all after this forBruce Wayne to take in Jason Todd and subsequently make him the second Robin.

Crime fighting with a 19 year old is too dangerous, but crime fighting with the 12 year old? Yeah, sure, why not!

There is an obvious contradiction, and a clear change in mindset.

In order to rationalize his choice to take in Jason Todd as Robin after firing Dick, Bruce Wayne must internally reendorse the concept of Teenaged Vigilantism. And he does so in a specific way:

Batman #410 (1940)

Mindset: If Jason Todd was not Robin, he would become a criminal and die

The dying part is specific as well. When confronted at first by Alfred, its more of an afterthought, something which would occur down the criminal "road" Jason was bound to end up on. But when he is later confronted by Dick, the idea that being Robin "saved" Jasons life takes center stage.

Batman #416 (1940)

It's no longer some distant crime related death Jason was on course for, it was an imminent death which Bruce was able to save him from.

Mindset: If Jason Todd was not Robin, his "self destructive energies" and lack of "self esteem" would have killed him.

This phrasing is SUPER interesting to me, because its not true in a very specific way.

1. Jason Todd wasn't really shown to have "Self destructive energies" before he became Robin. He was stealing to make a living, to stay alive. He never showcases a desire for "self destruction", unless you count his hitting Batman with a tire iron, and his interference in Ma Gunn’s heist. Which I don't.

2. It seems to imply Jason Todd might have died because of specifically "self destructive tendancies", which seems ascribes a small amount of passive potential suicidal ideation, which is also vastly unsubstantiated by anything we see from Jason before he becomes Robin. But you know who is a character who is deeply rooted in concepts of suicidal ideation? Batman. (I'm not going prove this point here, but this concept gets more firmly rooted in the upcoming years after this comic, Knightfall being a great example) Being Batman, Knightfall will establish, is pretty much all that keeps Bruce Wayne living. You could say that being Batman saved his life.

3. Bruce admits he took Jason on because he was lonely in this very same confrontation when Dick pushes him on this idea. This makes it abundantly clear why he needs this rationalization in the first place, his real reason for making Jason Robin appears to be somewhat selfish.

But what does this all mean? For one, it proves that Batman's primary explanation for why he took on Jason Todd is lowgrade BS. It also shows how Batman's rationalization has begun to veer into projection. He states that Jason was saved from his self destructiveness by becoming Robin, something that is certainly true for himself, but not really Jason.

We see this projection fully take root when Leslie Thompkins confronts Bruce. Not only is Jason Todd saved by becoming Robin, now he wasn't even chosen by Batman. It was, much like Bruce Wayne becoming Batman, inevitable. Something he was "born" to do.

Detective #574

Mindset: I didn't chose Jason, he was chosen, he is just like me, we were born for this

This is essential. This mindset will show up again and again as a core part of Bruce's ability to rationalize working with child vigilantes once Jason has died.

Lets look at how his mindset has been evolving from before he meets Jason to his time as Robin progressing. Batman has gone from:

Teenage/Child vigilante Bad --> Child Vigilante Good because Jason would have become a crimial --> Child Vigilante Good because Jason would have died, I saved his life --> Child Vigilante is Good because I saved his life and Jason was meant to be Robin just like I was meant to be Batman, this is what we were was born to do

This is insane rationalization. But it works. For a while.

Then, Jason begins acting out, and putting himself in danger. Whoops. uh oh! How can Jason be saved by becoming Robin, if he is endangered by it? The balm for Bruce's semi-suicidal ideation was crime fighting, so if Jason is self destructive as Robin, does that mean Jason isn't like Bruce after all? Does that mean he wasn't born to be Robin? Was Bruce right in the begining? Is Teen Vigilantism Bad? Well, lucklily, the rationalization Bruce has built doesnt need to change too much in order to accommodate these new facts.

Batman #426 (1940)

See, this issue has not reverted back to being child vigilantism, it's the fact that Jason isn't ready yet.

Batman #426 (1940) / Batman #427

Batman latches onto this idea, he identifies it as "the problem". Is he wrong? No, not really. It does seem like Jason needs come to terms with his parents deaths. But this is important because it is still a rationalization for mindset he started with, still part of the reason he can be in favor of Teenage Vigilantism.

Then Jason Todd dies, as Robin. That truly breaks the underlying concept for this rationalization, that being Robin saved Jason Todd. The entire justification has fully shattered, and Bruce Wayne has lost a son. And, so because of this, in the wake of Jason Todds death, we see a full 180 revert back to the idea Bruce held onto at the end of Dick Graysons time as Robin: Teenage Vigilante = Bad.

Batman #428/ The New Teen Titans #55 (1984) / Batman #439

He has fully rejected the very concept of working with anyone, including the now adult Nightwing. He is literally right back where we started, with even deeper convictions against working with someone else (especially a kid) ever again.

But we all know this doesn't stick. He takes on 13 year old Tim Drake as Robin not long at all afterwards. As the 90's progress Bruces goes on to work with a huge variety of other vigilantes and partners, both teenaged and adult.

So how does he possibly justify this?

I believe he retrofits his rationalization for taking on Jason as Robin.

He adheres to a primary idea. The idea that some people are, like him, simply built for Vigilantism. That they, much like he once believed Jason was, "born" for it.

Mindset: Child Vigilantle is not always Good, but it can be Good. When its the right kind of teenager. Some Teenaged Vigilantes are meant to be Vigilantes just like I was meant to be Batman.

In this way, Jason Todds tragic murder is not a failure of concept, it a category error. Batmans mistake was not working with a teenager, his mistake was working with the wrong kind of teenager. Jason Todd was not built for vigilantism. But others are. This means he's still totally in the clear to work with teenagers, Tim Drake as Robin, then Cassandra Cain as Batgirl, and then eventually Stephanie Brown as Spoiler. So long as Bruce is able to believe they are "born" for it, that they are like Batman himself, meant to do this, and incapable of living a normal life, there is no contradiction, his rationalization holds.

But where’s the proof?

This mindset can be clearly seen and prominently seen when Stephanie Brown is fired as Spoiler.

When Steph is fired as Spoiler because she has moved in Bruce's mind from the "acceptable Teen Vigilante" category into the "unacceptable Teen Vigilante category". And the reasons he gives for this decision are exactly in line with the rationalization I've lain out. She is consistently contrasted to other teen vigilante characters who are fit for duty because he does not see her as "like him/them".

Detective #790

Notice how he jumps right from "Jason and Stephanie were/are not fit to fight crime" to "they could/can have a normal life" right to "unlike me and you, Cassandra Cain, who are stuck fighting crime forever". Much like how he originally justified his decision to work with Jason Todd as Robin through the idea that Jason and Bruce were both destined for this life, he applies the exact same idea, but this time, about himself and Cassandra Cain as Batgirl. And in contrast to them, and in directly comparison to Jason Todd, Stephanie is not meant for crime fighting.

Batgirl #38 (2000)

And Stephanie Brown is contrasted with Cass again, when Bruce first explains why he fired Steph to Cass. This is a consistent pattern. She is not like Cass. This is why she shouldn’t be a vigilante.

When he explains that he is going to fire Steph as Spoiler to Tim, he says something very interesting which invokes the same idea. In the list of three reasons he throw out that Steph shouldn't be Spoiler, he mentions that she is going to "throw her life away". When taken in combination with the other panels discussed, its clear to me that he means this is the common way the saying is used. That she is wasting her life by being a vigilante, that she should, as he mentions earlier, be living a normal life. But why is he saying this to Tim? If one of the reasons Steph shouldn't be Spoiler is her ability to lead a normal life, why the fuck is Tim exempt? I think it comes from a genuine belief that Tim is "like him". Unable to live a normal, non-vigilante life, "born" for crime fighting. Much like Cass, who we already saw him directly compare himself to in this exact same way. Thats why he can directly reference to Tim Steph's ability to have a normal life as a reason she shouldn't be a vigilante, he doesn't believe Tim fits the same category at all!

Robin #106 (1993)

So why the fuck does Stephanie move categories? She was acceptable earlier? What changed?

I've already done an in-depth explanation for what the subconscious underlying reason Bruce fires Stephanie: she simply is no longer useful to as a balm for his loneliness. I highly recommend checking out the post here if you are interested in the breakdown of why and how.

But in addition to that, it’s clear to me that it also has a weird amount to do with Jason Todd.

Stephanie simply and clearly reminds Bruce of Jason Todd. He points out their similarities in personality, and it’s worth mentioning the similarities in their circumstances as well (mothers who struggle(d) with drug addiction, and fathers who were criminals).

As we saw in Detective #790, their personality similarities led to Batman associating Steph with Jason. This makes sense, this association would only grow as he got to know her over the time she is sanctioned as Spoiler.

I believe this association leads to him eventually placing her in the same category as Jason, as not "born" for vigilantism at all, and as capable of having a normal life.

But it also serves as a clear way to rectify his mistakes with Jason. It’s his way of “making up for” his role in Jason's death. It’s his second chance. Never mind that this second chance leads to his assessment of Stephanie having very little to do with Steph herself, and a whole fucking lot to do about Bruce’s guilt over Jason’s death.

This is especially brutal because it seems to come from a place of genuine care (and a selfish desire to assuage his guilt too), but Stephanie doesn't get the tender moment of explanation and grief and regret that Cassandra hears. She doesn't get to know this.

What she gets, is to be told point blank that she is fired because she just isn't good enough. She gets to hear that she lacks the "skills and talent" from the same man who originally came to her to train her because he finally saw and recognized her potential. She gets told she will never be good enough by the guy who told her that she could learn and improve under his instruction. She gets two sentences. She has to fight for any more.

I cannot emphasize enough the fact that she had to track Bruce down to get an explanation for why he was suddenly ghosting her. He didn't even have the decency to tell her himself. Stephanie had to track Bruce down just so she could find out that he gave up on her.

Stephanie gets a blunt lie about why she is fired. And Bruce Wayne gets to feel good about "correcting" a mistake that had nothing to do with Stephanie. Stephanie gets cut off from her friends. Bruce Wayne gets to reconcile with his team. Stephanie gets to feel worthless. Bruce Wayne gets to feel justified.

[discordiansamba]

he's home (again).

it's different this time. this time it's not in the midst of an invasion- his father and sister have fallen. the war is over. his uncle's coronation is this afternoon. it's hasty and rushed, but the sooner he can get on the throne, the sooner the end to the war can be a formal one. he's not stupid enough to believe everyone in the fire nation will fall in line, but...

...it's a step in the right direction.

"nephew."

kou glances over his shoulder at his uncle. azula had banished all the palace tailors, so they'd had to find some from the caldera and fast, but they seem to have done a pretty good job at resizing the fire lord's robes to fit his uncle. the old man smiles at him and asks if he can sit next to him. he's not going to turn him down.

"still fond of the turtleduck pond, i see."

"yeah," kou admits, "-i missed the little guys."

he had- and it's not just the turtleducks, or even the garden he spent so much time with his mom in. despite all of the bad memories, part of him had always missed this place. it hadn't been all bad- he'd had his mom. his uncle and lu ten... and then it had just been his uncle.

he idly ribbons water around his fingers. he keeps expecting someone will emerge from the woodwork and stop him, but no one does. he's not even sure if the few servants and courtiers that lasted through azula's purge even recognize him as prince zuko. he certainly doesn't feel like him anymore.

...that's probably also why he's been avoiding said servants since this morning. he knows uncle wants him to attend the coronation in the formal wear of a prince, to formally announce that prince zuko is alive to the fire nation- and the rest of the world. he knows uncle wants him to be his heir. he just... doesn't know if he wants that.

he just wants to let prince zuko rest.

"you know," his uncle says, "-it would be nice to have you by my side, nephew."

kou hums. he doesn't look at him.

his uncle sighs and pats his head. he tells him that would be nice... but he can understand it if that is not what he wants. you have set yourself on your own path in life, nephew. though it is not one i always agree with, it is very much your own. it is not his place to dissuade you. but if i may make a suggestion...

...he does not think many in the fire navy will lay down their arms so easily. some may decide to become pirates themselves. it would be quite useful if he had someone he could trust leading the charge against them. someone who was already quite familiar with the trade of a pirate.

kou looks up with a sly grin. uncle. you want to make me into a privateer?

iroh's smile is an equally sly one.

alright. you've talked him into it. he already thinks he knows a few good people who might be interested in serving on his crew...

[jikooklove9795]

Hey, there! First of all, I wanted to share just how much I enjoy reading all of your detailed posts and how nearly every time they're just SO spot! This being said, I was wondering about something just for funsies: What are some moments between JK and JM that people often use as "proof" but in your eyes, they aren't actually all that significant to you and are just innocent interactions? Personally, I love being realistic and objective when it comes to KM, so there definitely are some moments that just don't look all that proof-esque to me the way other momemts between them are undeniably hinting at a possible relationship. I was curious about your views on this matter, and thank you so much if you decide to indulge in my curiosity hehe!!

Hi Anon 😊

Thanks a lot for your kind words. I really appreciate it and I'm so happy to know that you enjoy my posts.

But when it comes to your ask 😅 I should probably be the last person you send this to. I understand its natural to leave room for doubt since we are all assuming that Jikook are in a relationship. However, I'm a bit different, I guess, because I have no doubt in my mind when it comes to Jikook. For me, they're definitely in a long term committed relationship with each other.

I usually never try to link two people romantically unless they've made it public that they're dating. However, if I notice something undeniable in their behaviors or interactions when they're around each other, I might change my perspective. There's often a chemistry or electric spark thats impossible to hide no matter how hard they try.

And when it comes to Jimin and Jungkook there are countless behavior patterns over the years that solidify my belief. Even without considering the loud moments there are numerous subtle and consistent patterns in the way they interact with each other. A few of these are:

1) Their frequent one on one time both on and off camera

2) Their inside jokes, inside stories, their nicknames or terms of endearment for each other

3) Their familiarity with each other's habits which most of the time seem like new information to even the other members

4) Subtle physical affection like lingering touches, any excuse to hold hands, always gravitating towards each other

5) Body language (angling their body towards each other), giving the other undivided attention, using soft tones while speaking

6) Unconscious smiling where they smile a lot more in each other's presence for no particular reason

7) Blushing (cue Jimin on his birthday live 2021, Jimin during 3J Butter dance version, Jimin after blowing a kiss to Jungkook during MMA 2018 and many more)

8) The protective gestures, how they get defensive when it comes to the other

9) Their soft gazes for each other which are filled with affection and admiration

10) Their noticeable effort to support each other (Jikook at each other's practice stages), the concern and worry reflected in their eyes and voice tones when the other is having a grueling schedule, bad health etc.

All of these are indicators which reveal the depth of their relationship.

So, what I'm saying is that, what maybe proof of Jikook dating to some might not be convincing to others. This could be because those moments are subtler compared to the more obvious ones. However, that doesn't make those moments any less meaningful. When considering the bigger picture, these subtle moments, especially since they occur consistently make a significant difference in how we perceive Jikook's dynamic.

It shows that what they have is not mere sexual attraction but something they have nurtured through time and effort. That's why their love continues to thrive despite all the struggles they may have faced.

We are all unique and this uniqueness shapes the way we perceive things. Thats why there is a variety of opinions and perspectives when it comes to interpreting a moment or interaction.

And since Jikook are in love (in my opinion) almost all their interactions carry an underlying affection and fondness for each other. This is why to some these interactions might appear as evidence of them being together.

When it comes to them I always notice something special in the way they interact. They're so gentle, romantic, and fun that it makes me believe that love still exists and its possible to have healthy loving relationships even when you're super famous. They're truly a breath of fresh air.

So, yeah, thats my answer to your ask, Anon. Once again thank you so much for your kind words. They really put a smile on my face.

Have a nice day 👋🏻

[maya-caffrey]

Strawberry Froyo

pairing: tasm!peter x reader words: 1.4k a/n: y'all i suck at summaries but trust me, it's good summary: you make a new friend :) warning: none, this is pure unadulterated fluff, there's some language tho; ps: this is from the reader's pov

“Son of a-” I silently cursed to myself when I realized late for science. Again. It was the third time this week and I knew my teacher was not going to be pleased. I didn’t have time to waste so I picked up my big stack of books and raced down the hallway towards the classroom until I was oh so rudely knocked over by Eugene ‘Flash’ Thompson who seemed to be in a hurry. Probably to bully some poor kid. Or teacher. Dick. 

“Hey watch where you’re going, Eugene” I yelled. Ah, crap. I knew he hated being called Eugene. Pretty much everyone knew. Boy was I in trouble.

“What did you just say?” Uh oh. Uh oh. Uh oh. Shit shit shit fu-

“Back off, man, come on. Leave her alone.” This was new. No one ever talked back to Flash. Especially not someone who knows him.  On one hand, I was flattered to see that someone was standing up for me, not that I couldn’t, but it was nice and on the other hand, I feared for this guy’s life. He’d banged heads with Flash before and it didn’t end well for him, as I remembered. He was in a few of my classes. Peter Parker. The kid with the death wish. And a really cool camera.

“Shut up, Parker. You’re in my way.” Flash was making his way towards Peter and my heartbeat got faster because 1, this never ends well, 2, I was scared for señor death wish, and 3, I was very late for science. Probably the wrong thing to worry about but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m late. I figured maybe apologizing would get him to calm down.

“Flash I’m sorry about earlier, I really am, but some of us need to get to class.”  Me. I need to get to class you pretentious douchebag. I was compelled to say it but I liked having teeth. 

He just stood there, silent, like he was desperately trying to calm down, or probably constipating, which I figured meant that I could go. I went back to my stack of books, now lying spread out on the ground, thanks to Flash. I started picking them up one by one when I was joined by a familiar face. 

“Here you go,” he said, after giving me a much larger stack than I had gathered single-handedly. Huh. That was fast. Not just in an impressive way but also in a sort of Are you ok? Are you having an acid trip? way. I put a stop to my train of thought and collected my books from him. He was gone before I could thank him. 

Timeskip brought to you by Psyduck 

After coming up with an excuse for why I was late to science (because I’m not the one with a death wish, no way I’m ratting out Flash), I took my seat and caught up on what I had missed from Gwen. It took me some time to realize that Parker was sitting diagonally in front of me and I wanted to thank him then and there. Despite establishing that he was running short of brain cells, ultimately he stood up for me. It’s not something people bother doing for me. I tore a sheet of paper, expressed my gratitude and I got a little brave and decided to add something more. I crumpled it up and threw it towards where he was sitting. Somehow, somehow, he turned and caught the paper ball. It was like he knew it was coming before it did. What. 

He looked behind him, confused as if to ask what is so important that you must interrupt science, you uncultured swine before relaxing after realizing it was me. Not gonna lie, that made me feel nice. Open it I gestured. He opened it to find a hand-written note that read 

Thank you for standing up for me :) Oh yes and also the books. Thank you for the books. What do you say I make it up to you? Froyo place around the corner, after school? -y/n

He looked at me and smiled before turning back and scribbling something down. I’d be lying if I said that smile didn’t make me smile too because oh lord it was the cutest thing ever. Like baby turtles walking for the first time. Or like baby axolotls. Like a ray of sunshine that -ow. I was distracted after the same paper ball from earlier found me again. I opened it to find the words  

I’d love to :) I’m looking forward to it. -Peter.  

Is it possible to find someone’s handwriting cute? Because I did. For some reason, it was adorable. I smiled to myself and then in his direction after reading it. I don’t know why, but I felt the need to save this paper for a long, long time.

I couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day. 

Timeskip brought to you by Roadkill restaurant - you kill ‘em, we grill ‘em. 

I made it to the froyo place first, so I saved him a seat at the best table I could find. You could say I was a little nervous, but to be honest, he seemed very comfortable to be around. He was like a warm cloud of comfort. He was like an old friend you’ve known your whole life. He was five minutes late. 

“I’m so sorry. There was some stuff, and there was some more stuff after that stuff, and then I-”

“Dude, relax, it’s fine. Sit down. Breathe.” He was out of breath like he ran all the way here.

“I-Thanks. I’ll uh, yeah I’ll sit down.” He sat down and took a few minutes to catch his breath. I silently observed him in a non-creepy way and I realized that he was much more adorable closer. He’s the kind of guy who you’d thank after he bumps into you. 

The waiter was here to take our order. “strawberry froyo with cookie dough bites”, we both said simultaneously. Surprise is an understatement. 

“No way, I thought I was the only one,” I said.

“It is an elite combination, and no one can tell me otherwise.”

“Exactly. Everyone I’ve had froyo with says it’s trash, and it’s sad how so many people are wrong.” He laughed at this and told me about other bizarre combinations he had tried. 

We spent the rest of the evening at the froyo place and to say it was amazing would have been a huge understatement. We talked about movies, music, books, and other things we were both interested in and it was incredible how great we got along with each other, considering we’d never even had full conversations before. I felt comfortable around him like you didn’t have to run everything thrice inside your head before I said it. You know when you find someone so in sync with you, it’s like you’re the same person? Like you know exactly what they mean when they say something? That, times a hundred was how I felt. 

“Listen, y/n, I had a great time”

“Likewise, Parker,” I said with a smile. He smiled back and I swear to god one day it’s going to be the death of me. None of us knew what to say so we just smiled like idiots and stared at the suddenly very interesting walls and ground. 

“So, I’ll call you? Later?” I decided to break the silence.

“Oh, yeah, sure, do you have my number?” As he said this, he started getting a little restless and I could swear I heard police sirens somewhere in the distance.

“I don’t think I d-” Before I could complete my sentence, He took my hand, and started writing his number on my palm. As he was writing, I started to feel very aware of the fact that our hands were touching. I felt sort of jumpy like I wanted to twirl and hop my way home. He wrote it with utmost concentration and held my hand like a delicate artifact he was scared of dropping. He was so cute when he was focused. As soon as he was done, he walked away out the door and towards traffic while facing me before screaming “Call me!” and disappearing into the alley nearby on his skateboard.  

I realized I was still there, at the froyo place, lost in my thoughts before I decided to head home as well. Oh boy, I’m in trouble.

[maxinemeows]

So multiple things inspired me to write this little angsty Flower Husbands drabble: their interactions in this season, the scene on bread bridge in Limited Life (and how Jimmy seems to be okay to ask Scott for lives as if they're nothing,) and also in general how I am noticing how their dynamic is more antagonistic and violent now (similarly how Joel and Scott are usually.)

Also, Jimmy not knowing who was Scott's soulmate when he was doing the Life Series quiz made me think that it would be cool to include here!

(if you know my last Scott post you'll probably understand why this thing exists- PGFJGHF.)

-----

A Deal with heartbreak

Session 6 started with a bang, multiple people dying because of the sudden appearance of the wildcard from today, Jimmy being one of them, making him be a red life now.

Scott walks near the cherry wood stairs of the Bamboozlers and looks around to check on them to see if they found out something new about the wildcard.

“Hello? Anyone here?” Scott calls out until he notices Jimmy coming down the mountain. He seems to be wearing the clothes he did last session, but this time they’re different colors.

Jimmy waves at Scott and approaches him rapidly.

“Hey.”

“Hey!” Scott smiles warmly. Sure, Jimmy is red but he wouldn’t attack him out of the blue, even though last sessions he kind of did, but Scott hopes he won’t now.

“Dude this wildcard is crazy! I can’t believe I died so quickly! I mean, at least I wasn’t the only one.”

“You have to be more careful Jimmy, Mumbo died last session so you might follow him…”

Jimmy sighs and crosses his arms shaking his head.

“Yeah, you’re still a green man, I don't know how you do it!” As Jimmy says that he gets an idea.

Scott shrugs at that. He just goes under people’s radars, though he is also good at the games, but better than Gem and Joel? Probably not.

“Scott man, I really need a life… Now that I am red is more urgent than yesterday! Please can I kill you?” Jimmy puts his two hands together and tries to make the best puppy eyes.

Scott chuckles at his request, and for a moment he considers it.

“Uhm, sorry Jimmy, I really don’t want to lose a life now. I gave one to Pearl yesterday so-” He gets interrupted as Jimmy gets closer to Scott, making him visibly more nervous.

“Oh! You gave her a life so she wouldn’t be red right? This is the same situation! Please man!” 

“But that’s different Jimmy! She’s my teammate and I also promised her that if she turns red she could kill me!”

With that said Scott thinks this is over but he then sees how Jimmy is suddenly holding a sword.

“How is that different? What about me asking you yesterday? Also! Our teams are kind of allies right? Don’t you think it’s a good idea to help your ally?” Jimmy waves his sword around, making Scott be very vigilant of the situation he’s in.

“I understand that, but Pearl, Impulse and Cleo are the first people I allied with this season! Of course I am going to prioritize them! Plus if we’re like this then Pearl was my soulmate a couple of seasons back so!” Scott says that without thinking, realizing suddenly why this moment seemed familiar. 

He, for a moment sees a black leather jacket and a long bridge extending on both of their sides.

Jimmy furrows his eyebrows in confusion and anger saying: “What? Okay and? Also your soulmate wasn’t it Cleo?”

Scott finds himself dumbfounded. He steps back and sees Jimmy closing the distance, and as he does that Jimmy accidentally steps on a poppy when he swings his sword at Scott.

In that moment, something in Scott gets broken. His stomach feels like it's turning and his hands buckle into fists. A sword appears into Scott’s hand and he swings it to block the blow; he then redirects his sword near Jimmy’s neck.

“I’ll give you 30 seconds Jimmy, to get out of my sight before I kill you for good.” Scott looks coldly at Jimmy, his eyes beginning to glow, but not only that, multiple more seem to appear and open on his neck and arm, glowing alike.

Jimmy’s sword disappears into his inventory and he huffs as he turns around and walks up the stairs of his team’s mountain.

Scott’s hands tremble. He sighs, and writes a mental note to not visit the Bamboozlers anymore.

-----

So I thought Jimmy was yellow at the end of session 5- checked, and he is red, but well this is a silly drabble anyways!

I had to make a reference to Deal with Destiny in the title okay? Was it obvious? Was it not?

Hope you liked it! ^^

[hannamoon143]

Don‘t drown in your own mind

bang chan x Writer! Fem reader

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort

Warnings: anxiety, description of anxiety/panic attack, crying, self doubt, insecurities, mention of depression, mentions of slight bad eating habits, slight cursing

Masterlist

You were laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling. It was like this for days now. Or maybe weeks? Time felt so irrelevant. Everday you were going to work, coming home, laying down, then you stared blankly at your wall for a few hours until you fell asleep. This, these days were horrible. You couldn‘t name the feeling, but a lonelines mixed with emptiness was just taking in your whole mind and heart. Nothing really happened that made you feel like this. It was just a never ending circle. When you got up for work you weren‘t thinking mostly. Almost automatically you got up, dressed, and ate a small breakfast. Your job was okay.It wasn‘t exactly what you wanted, but for the first it was a not too hard job, and the payment was good too. You always wanted to be an author, as long as you can remember. So you‘ll probably stay at this job a little longer, and someday make writing your mainjob, as an author. That was the plan at least. But right now, everything was harder. When you were coming home, you were always so tired that you didn‘t have the energy to do anything else anymore. That was probably also why your apartment looked like a mess. But you weren‘t able to stop it. You just didn‘t know how to stand up, clean everything, maybe go out, do something after work. All of this felt so far away.

Writing had been always an escape for you though. Poetry and literature was something you could describe your feelings with, like you could never in direct words. But these days your mind was blank. When you read others poetry and works, it somehow didn‘t reach you. And when you tried writing something yourself, again, this horrible emptiness in your mind. And when you couldn‘t even do the one thing that always brought you relief and comfort, what did you have left?

Somedays, you wanted to cry. You were waking up with not only the familiar exhausting emptiness, but also a heavy feeling in your chest. On these days everything seemed even a bit harder than on the other days. When people at work yelled at you, they were a tick louder on these days. People accidentally bumping into you, hurt a bit more. You weren‘t able to concentrate on work, just trying not to cry or yell at someone, the only light being the end of the day, when you could go home. But when you finally were going through your apartment door, the weary tireness came over you again. It was a horrible feeling. Not being able to do anything, not even being able to cry, when it‘s everything you had wanted to do the whole day. But you were still awake for hours. You had always wondered how people with depression were able to stand up, and do what they were supposed to do every single day. This was probably kinda what it felt like.

Oh but there was one thing you hadn‘t thought about. How dared you to think chan wouldn‘t notice? Chan is a protector. He always tries to protect everyone around him, be it from mean people, things, or their own minds. Oh and you? You were his ultimate softspot. He would give the moon to you if you asked him to. So of course he noticed when it got that time again. He noticed by the way you would zone out and sometimes not reply to his calls, and when you did, you mumbled a few responeses and just hang up all of a sudden,saying you‘d go to sleep.By the way you would need a bit longer to text back. And how you tried to smile when you were meeting up, but it never reached your tired eyes. And you didn’t write as much anymore. Sometimes before, you would randomly come into his studio at night, and just sit next to him, and while he was working on some tracks, you would write a few lines, be it about him, about your fellings or maybe a story you wanted to write down. He could tell by all the little things, your eyes, your voice, your body language.

He knew.

And what he learned about you was, that you weren‘t one to just talk about it, or reach out for help. Even if you wanted to, you couldn‘t. You simply didn‘t know how to talk about everything sometimes. Simple words seemed to not fit for the feeling. That was why he knew how important your random quotings were, or when you‘d show him your latest writings. And the worst thing was you always thought you were a bother. Of course chan had told you a million times that you weren‘t. He tried to reassure you ine very way possible. And somewhere you knew that he would never lie to you. But for some reason your brain didn‘t want to accept that. You often got brushed off as being lazy, not useful, and some kind of burden in your past. How could you be able to not think that when so many other people did? But the weird thing was, he knew. Chan always knew.

At some early point in your relationship you discovered that you shared a habit that was a bit uncommon. Often when your own words weren‘t enough, you expressed your feelings in quotes or song lyrics. It was a simple thing do do but to chan and you it meant so much. When you didn‘t know each other for that long, he discovered your love for writing and literature, so at some point he also started to really like it. And it was you who got more engulfed into music because of him. You were like puzzle tiles, matching and showing each other new ways and things.

But lately you even stopped doing that. Not randomly sending him lyrics, or poems anymore, you just wanted to share, or that made you think of him, or that you liked because they fit your situations. That was when he knew that it was really getting like that again. And never ever, was he going to let you hurt, and feel like that all alone. Not when he also knew about earlier phases in your life. So he planned how to get you out of the house, to make you do something that you‘d also really enjoy. He thought about what to say to you, and how to approach you at all. But all these thoughts just disappeared when he got a noification on his phone. He opened it. There was no context, and no hello, just this:

„Maybe it‘s time to say goodbye, cause i‘m getting pretty fucking tired“

Chan didn‘t even have to think. You showed him this song (Tired-beabadoobee) once, and said it was one of your favorites. He stated that it made him feel depressed, but you just giggled at that.

But at this lyrics, chan didn‘t think twice before he took his coat and car keys.

This day had just been horrible. Already when waking up, you felt a bit heavier than usual. Every task was a bit harder, and the thought of food made you nauseous. At work someone that you considered a friend had started telling people things about you, and then they also yelled at you for „Being a unproductive worker, and you are draggig everyone here down with your depressing ass attituted. It would be better if you weren‘t here.“ That had hit you hard. U didn‘t really care what other people said usually, but this stung. In the past weeks it was hard to even get up, but you tried so hard to do everything you were supposed to. Maybe you didn‘t talk as much with your co-workers then, but only because you couldn‘t have taken it… And then this small last sentence. „It would be better if you weren‘t here.“ You had heard this sentence so often in your life. Your „friends“ in school. Your parents. Your family. Teachers, colleagues, fans of chan. You had heard it too often. At some point you started to believe them. That was until chan came. He got you out of that dark hole, and he made you realize that all these people were wrong. But now you weren‘t so sure anymore.

To this day, you were always afraid of hearing chan say these words. You knew he never would say such things to anyone, but the thought was always somewhere in the back of your mind.

Now you were here again. The words of your co worker echoed in you mind. What if chan also hated your „Depressing attitude“? What if you were too much for him? You would understand that he didn‘t want to be with someone like you. You were always kind of messed up. So who said all those people in your life weren‘t right? Maybe everyone‘s life would be better if you weren‘t here…

You started blasting music through your airpods. It was the only thing somehow keeping you stable. Then the song played. Tired. A song you had listened to when you were at your lowest, it somehow being able to comfort and pain you at the same time. You didn‘t know what you were thinking, probably you just weren‘t thinking at all, but you sent chan a message. Absimently you typed in the songtext you knew without even hearing it. Then you let your phone fall.

Suddenly it seemed like those weeks of tiredness, emptiness and numbness were like washed away. A deep sob wracked your body. At the same time it felt relieving, but it was also pained. And then another one. And then tears started falling and your sobs mixed with the sound of your vent playlist. The words first quietly replayed in your mind „It would be better if you weren‘t here…“ But then, it changed. Your thoughts got louder and you didn‘t know what to do. Everything was too much right now, too overwhelming. The world was cruel, and so were people. But who said all cruel things were wrong? You fell down to your knees, wrapping your arms around your upper body. Your chest felt tight, and your breath was only coming out in choked sobs, while warm tears kept trailing down your cheeks. It was a stark contrast to the coldness in your mind. The airpods were still in your ears. You didn‘t hear the front door opening, and chan kicking off his shoes.

The first thing he heard were loud, pained sobs. They were shattering his heart. He quickly took off shoes and coat and rushed into the livingroom, where you were kneeling down, your upper body bent forwards, and while you were clutching to your own body, choking sobs were filling the air. He ran over to you, sitting on the floor next to you. He took your airpods out immediately and just wrapped his arms around you, starting to mumble comforting words into your hair. He knew the only thing that could calm your anxiety and panic right now, was physical touch, and someone telling you that it was okay, just giving you the comfort you really needed. So he tried not to cry himself, as he rocked you in his arms, slowly releasing your own arms from your trembling body, until you were entirely leaning onto him, sobbing. He mumbled quiet reassureances, and laid your hand on his chest, reminding you to breathe. You were trying your best to follow his breaths, his entire presence already bringing you big comfort. After a while, you were only lightly crying in his arms anymore, but he was relieved, that the anxiety attack and the panic was gone now. You finally managed to get something out. „It would be easier if i wasn‘t here. For you, and everyone else.“

Chan was shocked at that. Did you really think that? That you were even thinking such a thing, made him so sad. You were one of the most loving, hard working people he knew, and he wanted to beat up everyone who would ever made you think something like this. „Oh dear…“ he wrapped his arms a bit tighter around you, placing his chin on your head while stroking your back gently. „Whoever told you that is wrong. A life without you would be way harder to be honest. Who would send me memes of myself? Who would comfort me when i am frustrated because i can‘t finish a track? Who would be there to love and care for me? And i can tell you for sure, your real friends and family think the same. And no matter who, if anybody makes you think otherwise, they are wronger than wrong. I love you sooo much, and i know life can be tough, but i for sure know one thing. Life would be hard and boring without you. Please darling, don‘t ever try to leave me okay? If you feel like this again, overwhelmed, tired, like you don‘t belong here, then come to me. Tell me how you feel, let‘s write something together, also if your works will be hundred times better than mine, or let me just cuddle and comfort you, but don‘t suffer alone please. Call me across the ocean before you drown in your own mind. I‘d swim ever meter to come to you.“

He placed a kiss on your forehead. You were slightly crying again, but this time different than before. He was talking so genuine, and nothing he was saying sounded like a lie or just empty words to please someone. He meant every single thing he said. You looked at him, and a small smile stealed it‘s way on your lips. And that was the most beautiful thing chan ever saw. He wanted to keep it in his heart forever. He smiled back and pulled you against his warm chest again. Maybe from now on, the empty days, that just randomly came, wouldn‘t be as empty and exhausting anymore. Because chan would catch you when you‘d fall, listen to you, even when you didn‘t exactly know how to express yourself. He would be there, no matter what. And he would make sure you‘d never feel like your existence was a burden for anyone ever again.

World was cruel, yes. But chan was a rock in a big ocean, to hold onto whenever you felt like you were drowning.

Taglist: @0omillo0 @lina-linny @onementally-unstabel-kid @darqlys

[xxkiller-muffinxx]

Eye to Eye

Pt 1

The encounter

1714 words

Alright chat let’s do this,

I had one semi completed one but then I needed cute dividers so it deleted itself

Also creds to @sister-lucifer for the dividers.

I know I know I know, it’s pretty crazy right? Another bill cipher’s daughter fic, not surprising. However it’s bill ford and it’s silly.

This godforsaken fanfiction was helped by my friend and for legal reasons alibi @dandelion-tea7 so yeah. With all the love I can muster thank you.

Also, side note yes this is a test run for my last post :3

Anyways let’s get to the bit

Stanford was never one to want children.

In fact the very idea perturbed him to an acceeded extent. Children of his running around his lab and ruining the space with glitter and or snot, it was revolting to say the least. His great niece and nephew were enough children. Particularly with what’s been going on for the past 30 years, Him getting trapped in the portal and leaving his child to be raised by…

Stanley.

That was the worst punishment of all in his opinion.

However, children are good for a few things: Memories, smiles, and laughter, sure the occasional adorableness but his children would probably be too focused on school work to be “cute.” He’d be sure of it. He didn’t want kids though, never has never will.

Yet here he was, discussing it with 14 year old Mabel Pines.

“Awe! Why not?! Kids are adorable, sweet, and adorable!” Mabel’s high pitched voice squealed at him, causing Ford’s ears to hum uncomfortably.

Stanford rolled his eyes at her young charm. He always thought she burned brighter as a star. “Mabel, i work too much to give children the time of day, for god's sakes I barely see you two!” He cut up some carrots to put in a soup he’s working on. He’s very proud of himself.

Dipped groaned softly covering his ears. Poor puberty was eating that boy away faster than termites in a food littered apartment. “Mabel, can you stop talking about Grunkle ford having kids? Besides, he's too old!”

“Precisely, Dipper, my boy!”

Mabel pouted, pulling her knees up to her chest while looking over at Dipper. “So? What if college was an exciting ti-“

Dipper let out a high pitched wail. Silencing Mabel almost immediately. Stanford laughed heartily, a part of him enjoying the banter despite how improbable the conversation was. College? Exciting? Hardly. Learning about the the brain's response to psychological torture was quite invigorating, however.

A familiar voice piped up. “Oh no, are we talking about Sixer’s love life again?” Stanley walked in holding a blender. He seemed oddly cheerful today, his eyes sparkling with the same mischief he had as a child.

Ford turned to him curiously. His eyes glancing at the blender, old torn up pieces of plastic in the bowl connected, Stanford looked back up at Ford. “Why?”

“Why not?”

“But why?”

“Why not?”

“Stanley.” Stanford groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose while Stanley softly chortled. Mabel gasped, jogging over to interrogate him.*

Mabel grabbed onto the side of the counter pulling herself higher to look at the old blender. “Is that going to be the blender squirrel?!” Mabel shrieked, reaching for it, Stanley pulled away.

Dipper raised a questioning brow. “Blender…squirrel?”

Stanley rolled his eyes in offense, was Dipper, Little Dipper really judging him? “Alright, yeah, Squirrel blender, it was Mabel’s idea. I mean I don’t know it’ll be fun to see someone try to understand how it works.” Stanley looked at it, fixing all the gross chipped pieces.

Dipped sighed, he’d never understand his Sister and His Grunkle’s brains when they’re choosing such weird ways to bond. He didn’t mind it though. “Sure, a squirrel blender will be great!” He dripped with sarcasm.

Stanford fixed his glasses before turning to Stanley. “Stanley, come try this.” He lifted a spoon of carrot soup to his mouth. Stanley would always speak his mind, so he continued to count on it.

The moment Stanley smelled it he dropped it to the ground. Ford’s face falls flat. Stanley sputters for a few moments before coughing and grimacing. “You trying to poison me Sixer?!”

“It’s just carrot soup-“

“It’s rabbit shi-“

“Woah!” Dipper suddenly jumped out of his chair as he saw something outside. “I saw something!” Dipper got out of his chair while Mabel gasped “what?! I wanna see!” She quickly followed. Stanley sighed as the kids ran out. Turning to Ford. “Not it.”

Ford raised an eyebrow. “Are you a child.” Ford said with a soft affectionate laugh. Stanley pouts a finger on his nose.

“Nose goes.”

“I hate you.

-~-~-~-~-~

The forest air was warm and cozy like a blanket on the warm bed with its holder squished between. Ford sighed happily at the familiarity of it all. For the first time since he actually came home, he felt at home.

Dipper wrote in his own journal, walking only but a few feet ahead. Mabel very happily skipped along. So far ahead seemed like pleasant searching for the creature that caught Dipper’s eye.

Dipper seemed a bit stiff so Ford placed a soothing hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?” He’d ask voice full of care and warmth.

Dipper glanced up at his grunkle Ford. With a hint of familiar admiration to the older male. “Hm? Oh…uh…yeah.” he coughed softly. He wrote things quickly in his journal. As if trying to fill it with every last thing he thought.

Ford raised an eyebrow at this and sighed “Dipper you may be a fast thinker, but it helps if the ideas were clearer and more concise. Try slowing down and enjoying the moment?” Ford said with a soft smile on his face.

Despite the urge to keep writing, Dipper reluctantly put the journal down. “Youre right Grunkle Ford…” Dipper muttered earning an elbow in the side from his twin. He looked at her and elbowed back. Soon they were play fighting all over again.

The humor in their sibling rivalry caused Ford to let out a laugh. “Alright- alright that's-” A twig snaps behind them.

Ford spins around gun already ready to be pulled. Dipper and Mabel stare for a moment in the same direction. Ford looks down to see if there's any sign of life. There's a torn piece of fabric on a tree. The old man approaches it.

“Strange.” He mutters. Grabbing the fabric and rubbing it between his fingers. A leaf falls in front of him, followed by soft tree rustling. He waves the kids back further, looking up.

“…hello? Who's there? I know you're up there!” he shouts in a stern voice. Causing even Dipper to flinch. Mabel looks up gasping softly.

She runs to the tree earning a yelp from her brother. “Mabel wait-” he reaches for her arm but falls flat on his face instead. Ford looks down at Mabel, a minor glare for having disobeyed him. “Its a girl!” Mabel points. “Its a teenage girl!”

Ford raised an eyebrow. “How do you-”

“Just look!” Mabel grabbed a stick, climbing on top of Ford’s shoulders really quickly (his back would regret that later.) she poked whoever was in the tree.

There's a soft “ow” from in the tree.

Ford’s eyes widen taking the stick from Mabel. “Come out.” he said a little softer as to not startle her. The girl, fed up, grabbed the stick and threw it away. “Come on, you have to come down at some point.”

Stanford had to surpress an eyeroll at the quiet “Nuh uh.” from the tree.

“Yuh huh, now get down!” there was a tearing sound from the tree. “Or gravity will force you.” The girl struggled to hold herself up.

“Well I guess that's why everyone calls this place gravity fa-” The twig gives way under her, sending her crashing to the ground, it would be devastating if only shed actually hit the ground.

Mabel watched in awe as the girl hovered in the air. “WOAH!” She exclaimed before Dipper pulled her away. Ford furrowed his large brows stepping closer. “Fascinating…”

The mystery girl opened her eyes looking up at Ford. His eyes widened the moment he saw it. Not two, but three eyes on her face, one of the in the dead center of her forehead that glistened an uncomfortably familiar yellow.

Ford glared slightly. “Who are you.” The girl flinched, finally succumbing to gravity’s tricks and crashing down into the mud. She groaned in pain putting up her hands.

She closed her third eye. “Hey listen, I didn't mean any harm…i just-” She frowned looking away, as if thinking. “Which twin are you?” She asked the man standing over her.

“Which twin?” Ford tilted his head to the side, glaring even harder. “Whats your name first.”

The girl seemed to curse softly. “…uh…(Y/N)…”

“Where are your parents.” He steps closer slowly. His imposing figure getting more and more intimidating as he grew near.

(Y/N) frowned standing up and dusting herself off while backing up. “Well that's actually funny you say that! Because they are-” she was cut off by a tree hitting her back.

“Answer me.” Ford said with a soft huff. He's fed up with lies. He's worried this girl is somehow related to demon they killed two years ago. That yellow eye all two familiar.

They were up close when the girl finally decided to speak, “Stanford right? Well uh-” She flinched when he raised an eyebrow, she knew she probably shouldn't have said his name when she seems to be a stranger.

Theirs a silence that passes, followed by a gulp from the girl. “…if you're Stanford pines…then…Oh jeez this is weird-” She squeezes her hands together. “…im Bill cipher’s kid-”

There it is, he's never whipped out his gun so fast. The girl shrieked “WAIT WAIT WAIT!”

“WHY SHOULD I WAIT WHEN YOURD THE VERY THING IVE WORKED YEARS TO DESTROY!” Ford yelled back looking back at the kids. “Kids close your eyes this is gonna get messy.”

“NO WAIT IM HALF HUMAN!” (Y/N) screamed bloody murder putting her hands up. Ford lowered the gun while the kids tilted her head.

Dipper stepped closer “half human? Like Bill-” Mabel stepped up to interrupt him. “How is that possible? Does he even have-” Ford put his hand up to silence them.

“What do you mean? You're half human? Who's your other parent?” He asks pushing the gun into her neck. She gagged softly grabbing the barrel. Tears pricked her eyes.

“You?”

Ford’s world shattered in that moment, silence broke out and a million questions flew through his head. He'd never danced Bill’s devil’s tango. Nor has the thought passes. So how could this happen? What in the world was going on?

He didn't know, but he was determined to find out.

(Not edited or revised)

[transrevolutions]

pseudo-enlightened nihilism in the form of "even though the current system is horrible, revolution is still bad and stupid because sadly people are too naive and foolish to create lasting change :((( don't you wish humanity was actually capable :((" is still a form of reactionary politics btw and in fact probably one of the more insidious ones in today's world.

[leapdayowo]

Redstone and Skulk OC time :3

Thought I’d turn my persona into a rns oc and give them a helsmet :3 I basically looked at my play style in Minecraft and took a few things from my own life and combined them to create these two! Short version about them below and a little story of their origins under that:

short version:

-Leapday_art (short version Leapday, she/he/they, the player) is afraid of losing important things in their life. He is very cautious about doing anything that could result in him dying and loosing everything in his inventory (sleeps through the night everytime to avoid monsters, barely visits the nether, strip mines, etc) +the cats next to Leapday are two of my darling kitties who unfortunately passed away irl, their names are Toby (left) and Toes (right)

-Nightfall_collections (short version Nightfall, all pronouns, the helsmet) was created from Leapday’s extreme fear of losing valuables and her grief from having lost valuables too many times. Xyr driving goal is to collect and preserve everything that xe can and to make sure there is always at least one copy

-other things about Nightfall: she is a magma cube hybrid while Leapday is a ??? hybrid player (if you read the story below this may make more sense👀). Nightfall can split into smaller duplicates which allows them to be in more places at once and thus more productive in their goal. She uses her goop-like body to write reminders on her clothes, then re-absorbs the goop later

-I think Nightfall would find himself as an organizer between lots of different parties/people in Hels due to being so dedicated to his goal + only being dedicated to this goal (his alignment is probably chaotic good because he’s loyal to his own goals and not to other people or outside rules. He does not take bribes or backstab). Also, Nightfall does not need to have possession of everything, but xe is trying to keep tabs on where everything that exist is at(this makes xem the go-to person for trying to obtain something in particular)

-I think Nightfall would become a sponsor (if that’s the right word?) for the Order of Remembrance because she greatly admires the work they do to preserve Hels’ history. She would also love Zedaph’s hall of all and definitely tries to work with private collectors to protect (and document/track) what they have (and she will keep what she knows a secret if it means protecting valuable things)

-Nightfall does not care about thieves unless they steal one of a kind things

-the doodles below were my earlier concepts, so Nightfall has green eyes before I realized it’s much more fitting for xem to have orange eyes

okay, okay, story time (because I realized the ‘short’ version was getting very extensive):

Maybe it had started in the very first world she spawned in. A brilliant blue sky that stretched over jagged, looming cliffs with forests scattered underneath. Trickling waterfalls and bubbling lava pits here and there. The natural beauty of the world left Leapday in awe and eager to explore what other wonders lay beyond the horizon.

It must have started with the first tree she broke, a squat little oak, one of hundreds in the forest. When the leaves of that little oak had all fallen, saplings littered the grassy floor. She should’ve been excited, feel triumphant even by taking down the tree, after all it’s how the journey had to start. Except, all that Leapday could see was the awkward gap in the canopy from the absence of the little oak. It felt like an itch unscratched, nagging and uncomfortable. Well that wouldn’t do.

They scooped up all the saplings littering the floor and planted one in the same dirt plot the little oak was uprooted from. Then they planted a few more just for good measure. The unease lingered, but planting the saplings felt good. It felt right. Now their adventure could truly begin!

——

In this world, Leapday’s only companions were the pigs and sheep that he passed on his journey, though he would argue, if there were someone to argue with, that the world itself brought him company enough. That the days and nights passing was a conversation between the universe and Leapday, and thus a consistent companion. And what gifts did the universe provide for him to find! Rushing rivers that fed into powerful oceans, plenty of trees to sleep in and collect, and mountains to climb with the best views of the sunset. Never a dull moment for him as there was always something new to experience and see.

However, despite all its gifts, the universe was slow to explain the finer mechanics of the world, such as health to Leapday. A week of traversing through thick forests and steep cliffs left them battered and bruised. They learned how to gauge the distance of a drop and how to place blocks to minimize the pain in their ankles from falls. A similar pain gnawed from the inside of their stomach, which they discovered was briefly satiated by devouring the apples that fell from the trees.

During one climb up a particularly harrowing cliff, Leapday learned about the unforgiving weight of sand by placing it under her feet in order to reach the next ledge. The block had crumbled in a near instant, sending her plummeting towards the ground. Instead of hitting the hard rocks below, she splashed into a stream from a nearby waterfall. When she had dragged herself onto land and her heart had steadied to a more familiar pace, she let out a fit of bewildered laughter that overwhelmed the panic from moments ago. She knew falls much shorter than this one could take days to recover from, so what kind of pain would she be in if she hadn’t gotten lucky and fallen in the stream? Something cold ran through her and sank to the pit of her stomach. Dread of what could have been, what could still be if she wasn’t more careful. She resolved to never find out what would happen. How unfortunate that her next fall would be into a pit of lava, the very one she had been camping at throughout the nights.

He was being careful, more so than he had been for the first week in this world anyways. That didn’t seem to matter because he had still slipped when placing the block before him and fallen. It was his first respawn, and it introduced him to a few new things like a punch to the face. The first revelation was the agony of burning to death, and death itself. He curled into himself, crying at the phantom feeling of the lava eating at his flesh. The intense heat and how the lava had trapped him in place and burned. It was a twisted version of the warmth of the sun, which was shining down on him and in comparison felt as cool as the air in caves. The second realization came slowly as the memory of fire ebbed. Their knuckles no longer popped and their joints no longer ached. The tightness in their muscles had vanished, leaving softer tissue on the bone and the emptiness in their stomach no longer hurt. They felt new and full of energy, ready to begin their journey again. How strange they had forgotten what this felt like. White scars from their oldest injuries and freckles from sun touched skin still littered their body. They had died, but now were in perfect health again. Leapday took in her surroundings, her face lighting up with delight at the sight of a familiar oak tree. It had grown into quite the study tree since the start of her adventure. Soon after her reunion, Leapday discovered her now empty inventory when she reached for blocks to place in order to climb the canopy. The absence of stacks of logs, dirt, and sand had her racing towards the lava pit before her mind could catch up. Panic pushed her feet to run faster and dodge every obstacle. She ignored nicks from branches in her way and the sting of sharp rocks on her bare feet. The timer was ticking down. Her items would be gone- she just had to- if she wasn’t fast enough-

She burst through the tree line and was greeted by the familiar heavy heat of the lava pit. The sight of it made her recoil out of fear of falling back in even from many blocks away. On shaky legs, she circled the perimeter and searched for her items. The timer was still ticking, but they were nowhere to be seen! She crept as close as she dared to the lava and swept her eyes across the surface of the pool. Then she darted into the surrounding trees looking high and low.

Nothing.

No logs. No saplings or dirt or anything!

This was their third lesson. You lose items after death, and lava destroys those items.

Don’t die, especially not in lava, and don’t lose your items.

Now they had to start over, and this time not dying proved to be harder than expected. More falls and similar accidents happened. Zombies began appearing, persistent in their pursuit of Leapday’s flesh. Then skeletons, creepers, and spiders appeared and introduced many more ways one could die. The pain from the deaths hurt, but they became mundane as weeks turned to months. Loosing items became more painful and frightening when Leapday discovered crafting. More time and resources were needed to start over after dying with crafted items, so they took to the world underground. They followed their instinct to craft pickaxes and torches, to chip away at the stone in search of more sturdy materials. They crafted their first stone pickaxe and found it to be superior to the wooden one.

Maybe it truly started with that wooden pickaxe. When she crafted the stone tools, the wooden pickaxe sat in her hotbar, still good for half a day’s work but now obsolete. It had served her well to progress her journey, a necessary step, but it felt wrong to simply set it aside. It felt like the gap in the canopy all over again, but she very well couldn’t plant the pickaxe in the ground and solve her unease. Not sure what else to do, she attached it to her hip and went on with her day. She wouldn’t destroy it or toss it, she would simply carry it with her until she found what she needed to do with it next. It became her new companion (it was her first crafted tool. It was the first and therefore the only one that would ever exist).

Now equipped with wood and stone blocks, Leapday built their base over their mine. The wooden pickaxe found its place over the doorway leading outside, marking the build as their home. It felt right, so they continued their expansions. Farms were planted along a nearby river and fences placed to corral cows and sheep. Torches were the one item they were generous with. They were thrown across their property liberally since their light would deter creepers spawning too close for comfort.

During a thunderstorm that had picked up abruptly one morning, Leapday poked around at their communicator. It was a lightweight device that had been attached to their forearm since first spawning into the world and never disappeared after dying. After lots of fiddling with the different menus and buttons on the screen, they came across YouCraft. It was an archive of videos made by other players scattered across the universe, documenting their own worlds and progress! With the storm still crashing down around Leapday’s base, they curled up in bed and began watching the first video that caught their eye. It turned out that he had lots more to learn about the universe! After waiting out the storm, and then the night, by watching these videos, he learned about other biomes and blocks still left to discover as well as potions, enchanting, and other dimensions! A dragon was where this journey led for most players, though some took their time getting to it. Above all, he realized he needed diamonds. Diamonds were what every player sought due to their strength, but they were rare and dangerous to collect being so deep underground. They were needed to further Leapday’s journey however, so collecting them became his top goal. Quickly he learned how impossible achieving this goal would be. Well, it seemed impossible after spending days underground chipping at the cold stone and coming up empty. Strange echoes rang through the tunnels and more than a few times paranoia of something (or someone. He had heard the legends of Herobrine) sneaking up on him was enough to make him hole up for hours. Grey, grey stone that went on for miles. Grey cobblestone trailed behind him when his inventory filled. Leapday found other minerals, but the sparkling teal of diamonds still lay buried elsewhere. He mined for so long he began to doubt that the rare mineral even generated in this world. That only grey existed. That was until he broke away the next layer of stone before him and found himself staring uncomprehending at the bits of teal poking through stone. Uncontainable joy broke through his shock like sunlight through parting storm clouds. They were real! Diamonds were real and right in front of him! Invigorated with new energy, Leapday got to work extracting the diamonds just as they had seen others do. The amount paled in comparison to the stacks other players had, but in that moment he didn’t care. It was enough to have found them and confirm they even existed in this world. That weeks of sore arms digging at indifferent stone and unsteady gravel caches falling finally amounted to their new prized possession.

By the time he arrived back at his base, the novelty of finding diamonds began to wear off. He had to admit it was a measly amount. Just barely enough for a diamond pickaxe. What good would a stronger pickaxe be with no enchantments or replacements for when it broke? It had taken so long to find just a few diamonds what were the chances of finding more? No, they wouldn’t craft anything with the rare mineral until they had enough for spares and back ups. So back to the mines they went, and excruciatingly slow they found more, and continued to reason that crafting them was a poor decision. What if an accident happened and they couldn’t get back to their stuff? If they were swallowed by a pit of lava? So much time would be spent only to be wasted. Almost like their thoughts and fears had manifested it, a freak lava incident happened not long after. Leapday had been feeling good that day, so good because their most recent mining trip had yielded 13 diamonds and another cluster just across a lava lake. As they bridged across the lake, plans of finally crafting their collection of diamonds began to form making them giddy. It was the type of giddy that made any obstacle feel like child’s play and beyond consequence. That they finally could start progressing on their journey once more. It was enough to distract Leapday from the crunch of gravel under their feet and for their pickaxe to swing off its mark into the unsteady floor. The ground gave way and sent her tumbling into the lava.

She woke up screaming in her bed. Screaming from agony of ghostly flames that ate flesh, and then from loss and frustration. It wasn’t fair! Her luck had just turned up for the best and now all of it was gone! Every plan to use the diamonds tossed out the window and into a burning pit of despair. How stupid of her to not notice the gravel! All that time for nothing! She should have called it a day and come up 13 diamonds richer with plenty of levels for enchanting. All her gear and tools and items from mineshafts would still be intact, but no. Her head was too far in the clouds and now it was gone. She hadn’t even had the foresight to mark the cave to return to, so sure of her victory. There would be no hope navigating the twisting and sprawling tunnels below, and even if she tried to go back, the sight of lava would probably be enough to make her hurl. Fat tears began dripping down her face as she cursed and wallowed. They blurred his vision, so with a few steadying breaths and a final gross sniffle, he wiped at his eyes. Then he went to swing his legs over the bed to pick up the pieces of his day and froze. On his hand, both hands actually, were thick black smudges of… of something. What was that? He reached up to his face and traced the wet tear tracks with a clean finger. It too came away covered in the strange goop. An incredulous laugh burst from him, which evolved into hysterical crying. More tears fell from his eyes and he let them. The tangled web of grief in his chest unraveling as he did so, and he felt the last of his energy drain away until-

Sunlight trickled through the curtains and roused Leapday from their sleep. Birds were chirping and the familiar sounds of the animals grazing and leaves rustling cradled their mind while the events of the previous day trickled back to them. They felt heavy and gross. Their eyes crusty and mouth dry as a desert were a sure sign of their emotional distress. Disappointment felt like stones being dropped on them when they pulled up their empty inventory. It really was all gone. They let their head flop back onto their pillow and took a steadying breath, trying to recount the reasons they should get out of bed. Maybe they would stick to the joys of the world above ground for a month or two. Take up weaving or painting. They had plenty of resources to finally build a barn and an expansion to the house. Maybe they would go with a grassy roof.

Yeah. That could be alright. With one final sigh, Leapday pushed themself up off their bed and dragged themself over to their cauldron to clean up. They could see from their reflection that only a few faint smudges remained on their face, which they gently wiped away. Crying black goop was probably not normal now that their mind was more stable to think it over. Or maybe it was normal? It had never happened before, but the players on YouCraft all had their own quirks that Lepaday lacked, so maybe it was normal for them?

It turned out the inky tears were a new normal. From that incident onward, whenever they experienced a great sense of loss the strange tears formed and sank into the ground. They appeared when Leapday lost their first wolf companion and when they accidentally deleted a creative world full of builds of an ambitious project.

Meanwhile…

in another world…

In Hels, black goop bubbled to the surface of a sea of lava. From a distance, the surface seemed its usual hungry self, shifting and popping as it patiently waited for Hels and its inhabitants to finally crumble in. The goop was not consumed by its hunger however. It stretched towards the netherrack shore like a snake in water. Once it had gathered all of itself onto more solid ground, it sat and waited for more of itself to arrive, bouncing and bubbling over the terrain in the meantime. They could only wait so long however, after all, there was much to collect and preserve and too little time to do so.

And it’s finished! Whew, I don’t typically write, so this was a lot to work on amidst all my finals projects (totally worth it tho! It was great practice). I wasn’t planning on writing so much about leapday, but then I realized the interesting potential of writing about players when they’re new to the world. If they are akin to gods, they still enter the world with a lot to learn. The goop at the end is Nightfall, who then went on to travel Hels and collect as many blocks and items as xe could before xe came across the city Evil X established. At first they were incredibly overwhelmed by the amount of stuff to preserve in the city and mostly stuck to collecting free scraps and garbage. It probably did something to gain the attention of a member of the Order of Remembrance, who taught Nightfall about their goals and a few things about how society/Hels worked. From there, Nightfall set off to establish a massive collection and documentation of anything and everything, working with people in the process but also quite an eccentric personality that can be quite a hermit when buried in paperwork (not many people are willing to do paperwork as diligently as Nightfall)

Also, YouCraft is YouTube in the Minecraft world :P I felt I needed to separate it from our version of mcyt because in this universe the characters are real and making videos about their lives rather than people playing a video game (at least that’s how I’m headcanoning it)

thank you @silverskye13 for providing some more lore about Hels and the Order of Remembrance (as well as Redstone and Skulk as a whole <3) as well as inspiring me to keep trying to improve my writing and thank you to @/yayforocs for inspiring me to finally make my own rns OCs and this post :3

[autisticlee]

sometimes I think about how when I went to college for a year before I dropped out (basically failed out,) the counselors/dean told me they can't help me at all or give any accommodations unless I have an official autism/adhd diagnosis. that might sound logical at first, but when you think about it more, it's actually quite fucked up. if someone is struggling really bad, what's the harm in helping them? why do they require a paper to get even the smallest amount of help? people who don't need help aren't going to be failing miserably without help! even NTs could benefit from some adjustments to the horrible school system! (but changing the entire system is a whole other conversation that the school system isnt ready for)

but even if you do agree to jump through their hoops, you realize it's even more fucked up that the diagnosis process requires YEARS in most cases (in my case it took 4 or 5 years, can't recall exactly now, for autism/adhd diagnosis, which would have meant i finished school before getting it if i managed to mot fail out, or i wait that long before going back, which is a whole struggle itself) and they also tried billing me for THOUSANDS of dollars because of insurance issues!!

so you put a ton of time and money into this, and then get told the only accommodation they are willing to give you for autism and adhd is "a little extra time on tests"

....

my test scores were the best part of my whole class experience. that was NOT what I struggled with!!!!! those tests were all online and could be done in the comfort of your home where you can accommodate yourself and have plenty of time left over when you finish them because you are comfy in your own space, (and also, no one was stopping you from having your notes/books/google open to find the answers,) and you don't even need a time consuming, expensive diagnosis for that!

SO WHAT'S THE POINT!!!!!!!

[tytangfei]

Jina’s dramas awards 2022

It’s here! I had less time this year to devote to dramas because of a variety of reasons, but I still want to share the love. (Check out my favs from 2020 and from 2021.)

As usual, these are mostly Chinese dramas and they’re typically historical or period costume or VR-historical dramas but I do have a category for modern dramas specifically. Also, this is based on dramas that I finished. So, if I started but didn’t get through it yet, it won’t show up on this list.

A new addition this year: best short drama! With cdrama entertainment really putting more money and time into making their mini dramas, I think they deserve their own category.

best overall drama:

love between fairy and devil: no surprises here. it’s a devil x fairy drama aka brooding man x bright girl dynamic and it’s so so good. it really took all of us by a storm and we enjoyed it so much. the cgi is pretty good, the soundtrack is fantastic, and just everything hits my fangirl’s heart so well.

most delightful/fun drama:

night of love with you (modern short drama): i was seeking more short dramas to watch and am so glad i came across this. it’s funny, it’s well paced for a short drama, the couple’s chemistry is amazing, and their visuals look great too. also, the tinge of tragedy? love it. obsessed. 

most impactful drama:

rainless love in a godless land (Taiwanese modern drama, technically aired in 2021 but finished in 2022 so it counts!!): i love this kind of modern fantasy stories and i especially loved that this drama incorporated indigenous beliefs and myths and had all these larger questions. i probably watched this all in like three days (the eps were so long!) and was captivated. 

most unexpected drama (aka the dark horse):

sassy beauty: i don’t think i had any specific expectations for this drama, I was just looking for VR-historical drama and came across this. It also happened to have Yan Zidong as the ML, who I adore, so I gave it a chance and I’m so glad I did! Especially letting myself get past the first 4 episodes because the female lead’s growth was so so gooood. and again, the tragedy of it all?? yeah yeah, it’s everything.

drama with the best soundtrack:

love between fairy and devil: do I need to say more? it’s got all the bangers.

best costume/design/set drama:

love in flames of war (republican era): disregarding the story/plot, i really liked how this drama looked. maybe they looked a little too pristine for a republican era? but the male lead’s a warlord and rich and stuff so i didn’t question it too much.

best short drama:

a familiar stranger: cdrama ent is finally putting money and time into short series! this year we really saw an improvement in this genre and several other dramas did really well, but this drama had my heart because of ryan cheng. he’s my boy. but really, this drama had solid acting, story, with strong cinematography and soundtrack. just chef’s kiss.

favorite modern drama:

be my princess: granted, I didn’t watch many this year, but this is the only one I finished and actually spent VIP money to watch the last few episodes. I really adored this drama and the questions it asked and I was pleasantly surprised by this couple pairing. 

favorite drama from any year not aired in 2022:

dreaming back to the qing dynasty (2019): I haven’t watched a drama based in qing dynasty (with some time-traveling) in years! I fell in love with so many of the princes but especially wang anyu as 13th prince. it’s the first drama i’ve seen of him and i’ll be keeping an eye out for his future historical/period dramas!

drama with a soft spot in my heart:

lost track of time: i’m obsessed with this drama greatly thanks to jing chao but yeah also obsessed with irony and revenge and the fight against fate and doomed endings. yeah, this drama had me buying VIP. the production and cinematography was just okay but the acting? the tragedy of it all? i’m kissing jing chao.

favorite scene from a drama:

a familiar stranger: this is a random category just so that I can say I absolutely love the fireflies scene. it’s so so good, so soft, so tender. he saved her and then she saved him in the most beautiful way.

That’s all for me! Did we share any favs? Are you obsessed with bits of tragedy too or are you normal lol. Which drama would you in what category? Feel free to let me know. :)