#but if you read it as on purpose i do think that's actually making him far more calculated / selectively loyalty | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xylatox · 52 minutes ago

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the one where the stranger you fake date turns out to be your childhood friend, a title that absolutely reminds me of 2000s emo music titles from groups like; our lawyer made us change the name of this song so we wouldnt get sued. Unto my thoughts!

About myself. I am a 30yo, 5’10 male with six figure job trying to relate to my colleagues by appearing as though I have a Significant Other. Your required duties will only be your punctual company to public events. Serious inquires only. Thank you.— this is so unironically serious its actually so funny and suits Seungcheol's whole office manager vibe.

I love thst Cheol's black cat-like personality at the office created something akin to mob boss rumours around the office, like it's so funny how someone's lack to converse with others comes off so insane to this colleagues/coworkers.

Yet, he was never taught that being lonely was something that came along with it. That climbing ranks, that gaining power and authority could make him feel so empty inside. Just like climbing the top of Mount Everest alone, it was just as cold and lonesome if no one was there to see it. — I think the comparison between climbing ranks and mount everest combined with the feeling of loneliness being like the weather of the mount itself so interesting oh my god and well done.

It's so crazy to me how dead serious Cheol is to get an interview out of this fake date too, like thats dedication. Seungcheol was beginning to think he wasted his time, his energy, and his effort. Is that what it felt like? To put heart into something and be burned after. He hadn’t felt anything like this since— I know it was absolutely cut off for plot purposes but I'm so invested ugh

Their first interaction is so hilarious, I love how sassy reader is, like it's so cute and endearing. It's so cute when he realizes it's his childhood friend omg, I could throw up. I love how well it blends into their first interaction as kids and how even then Cheol has this whole black cat energy going for him. It's also amazing how reader loses her shit at how hot he got after he left

He's so serious, he kind of reminds me if Jumin Han from Mystic Messanger (minus the whole cat obsession). I love that despite being childhood friends to some degree Cheol is still very much closed off and his personality remains the same even when he's in the work dinner settings, like good on him honestly. I'm so happy that wall falls when he gets drunk after they do the Love Shot, it's so cute.

It's sad to see reader care about how she's portrayed by her friends but the moment Cheol voices how they met and everything is super sweet. BEOMGYU CAMEO!!! hehe exciting. I do love the moment that they share after they get away as well.

Part 1! This was so good and I'm so excited to read part 2!!

the one where the stranger you fake date turns out to be your childhood friend (m) [1]

A Valentine collaboration hosted by @camandemstudios and their masterlist

Pairing: office manager!seungcheol x childhood friend!fem!reader Genre: romcom, smut, fluff, slight angst Word count: current 12.5k (total w.c. 34.4k) rating: R Summary: In a world where relationships mattered just as much as money or status did, Seungcheol found himself wrapped up with a person from twenty years ago. He didn't know how you remembered him, and frankly he didn't know how he remembered you, but the way you've reentered his life, like a gust of wind, he didn't think he'll ever forget you now. tags: MDNI, Childhood rivals to Best friends to Ex-best Friends to Strangers to Fake Dating to Lovers (try to keep up), childhood trauma, mentions of neglectful parents, random idol features, reader and seungcheol in their 30s, grump x sunshine, fake dating au, office au, taekwondo buddies, virgin!seungcheol, experienced!reader, food & alcohol scenes, yearning, smut tags to be provided in part 2

author note: Thank you to @tusswrites @gyuswhore @lovetaroandtaemin the title is so fucking long because this is the longest fucking thing i've written in my entire life. A little inspired by those ridiculously long ass anime titles that don’t need to be that length like they don’t need to be this fucking long, but they just are and it’s dumb, but I cackle every time I look at it. I'm dedicating this to @haologram who does this on the regular somehow and has been supporting me throughout the whole process bc this drove me nuts.

“Looking for fake girlfriend for hire aged 25-35, preferably with job, neat, and single. Negotiable compensation. About myself. I am a 30yo, 5’10 male with six figure job trying to relate to my colleagues by appearing as though I have a Significant Other. Your required duties will only be your punctual company to public events. Serious inquires only. Thank you.”

You stared long and hard at the Craigslist listing before quickly shooting a message, not giving yourself a moment to hesitate and regret your choices and quickly clicked off the window to avert your attention elsewhere.

Craigslist was not a website you browsed every day, but today was not like every day. Today commemorated your last and final friend who celebrated her relationship hitting their two year milestone, reminding you that you’re the final single on the lonely island that was your life.

For as long as you could remember, everyone—including you—had been in some kind of relationship. And for some convoluted reason, having a girlfriend/wife/mother status mattered in the circles you ran, especially now when your dating history has been stretched and chewed like bubble gum. At this point, you weren’t closed off to anything, not even fake relationships.

You were sick and tired of putting in the effort of meeting these guys with nothing to come out of it; it was dud after dud, shitty date after shitty date. At the end of the day, you knew you were just meeting other people to satisfy the expectations of others, succumbing to the pressure of being coupled up with anyone to have your happy ending.

This was your chance to say fuck it. If they were all so insistent on seeing you date someone, you were going to give them just that. It didn’t matter who it was.

The Craigslist guy seemed to be in the same boat. Albeit, his situation sounded more unique compared to yours, he was also just trying to survive in this inherently judgemental world. You could imagine a compromise that would benefit you both correspondingly. It was just a matter of convincing your new potential faux beau that you were in desperate need of his assistance.

Then again, how bad was his situation that he needed a fake girlfriend to make himself remotely likable?

You didn’t know it yet, but in Choi Seungcheol’s case, it was dire.

The effect he had by walking through the sixty-story VENTE Co. building already brought locals to shivers, but the air of the department he led was frigid whenever he passed through. Each heavy footstep of his grew louder as he made his way to his private office, and always with that empty soulless stare that never ceases to miss a day at work. No subordinate would dare even think of locking eyes, nor breathe the oxygen lingering on him, until the door closed behind him with no air to escape.

Before Seungcheol came to power as office manager, the rumors circulating about how he got into his position of power before transferring over to his current branch were the kind you’d hear about in fiction. Word got around about the possible blood he spilled, the secrets he told, or even the secret withheld for exploitation to get where he is now. This wasn’t any lowly position, after all, he was ten to twenty years younger than his colleagues holding the same position, earlier on track than anyone else in the company for someone who wasn’t an heir or a product of nepotism. Everyone assumed the gossip must’ve had some truth to them.

Even Chan, the poor new intern fresh out of college, had fallen victim to the water cooler talk and seamlessly fell into the office dynamics. He cowered in his cubicle after seeing Manager Choi pass through the hall, clutching the toner cartridge he was asked to change out that now stained his fingers. And a breath of relief escaped him to hear the sound of a closing door.

Seungcheol didn’t do anything aggressive or violent with the way he ran the office, but he was a man of a few words. He neither confirmed nor denied these rumors, he just never addressed them, thinking maybe that’s how it should stay. Instead, he let the stone-cold glare that made the hairs on people’s necks stand upright speak for him. He didn’t go to company events, or plan them for that matter, he would just work his hours (often more hours than less), send out his orders, and leave work without saying so much as a goodbye.

And why would he have to? He was the boss. He didn’t need to do more than what was necessary.

Yet, there was something he craved that couldn’t be achieved in the current workplace climate. Something he didn’t realize until it was already too late to turn things around unless the world was flipped on its head.

From a young age, he was taught being feared was a good thing. It’s why his parents would put him in hard-hitting hobbies like taekwondo, hapkido, and boxing. He was groomed to be a leader who was strong, demanded his power, and strived to be the apex.

One weekend, curiosity got the best of him, and he wondered on the search engines if this feeling was normal, if others had this problem, or if it was a side effect of his ambition. Research and being a net explorer was a hobby that he fell victim to on occasion, this being an extreme case where he could not seem to grasp. One trending word led to another and then the web sucked him into a spiral of Google snippets from Reddit stories to self-help guides.

What had felt like minutes had actually been hours since he started his search and he was beginning to get impatient until articles about How to be Likeable popped on his screen. Like many of the others, it sounded like nonsense or gimmicky, but one title stood out to him amongst others.

He scoffed as he moved his mouse to scroll through the pages, thinking it couldn’t have been that easy or perfect, but it just was. Unlike everyone else’s advice that told him to ‘smile more’ or ‘show positive body language’ (whatever the hell that meant), if he had a significant other defending him and complimenting him all the time, he wouldn’t have to do the work. They would do all the talking for him. He just had to compensate them enough to make it happen. It was idiot proof.

And that’s how he found himself on Craigslist, the site that seemed to have it all with no exceptions. His post was decent, vague enough to not make his status or identity known, yet enticing enough to possibly arouse a candidate. He just had to be sure they were someone he could work with.

After scouring through about twenty to thirty scammy and near-illegal offers, one piqued his interest, the single sensible response amongst a hoard of crazies. Maybe he found his girl. His fake girl that is.

“Hello, Are you still looking for a girlfriend? I seem to suit all your criteria.”

Things were looking up for Seungcheol, all that was next was the meeting. Being the workaholic he was, Seungcheol only managed to squeeze you in for a 45-minute interview during lunch, but it had to be by the office, giving you both the smallest time window imaginable. His lunch was the only time he would be able to do transactions such as this, and any weekend of his was solely for his leisure. Talking business–such as a fake dating proposition–on his well deserved weekend was not something he wanted to pencil in his calendar.

The coffee shop was perfect, only a ten-minute walk from the VENTE Co. building if Seungcheol speed-walked, and if he was early enough, he could get a freshly made deli sliced sandwich they were known for to have on his way back. However, he didn’t want to prolong this interaction more than he needed to. He knew that others from the office would occasionally visit or pass by this same cafe, but it was the most viable option. He just needed everything to go according to plan and at his pace. So far, it seemed as if it was; all that was left was your punctual arrival–but that moment had passed ten minutes ago.

He looked at his watch impatiently, tapping his foot in the incessant way he would, sighing as everyone that came through the passing door didn't even spare him a glance, maybe even some actively avoiding his eyes. He started to wonder if his description of himself was specific enough: male in his 30s with dark hair in a tailored gray suit. It wasn’t rocket science. Yet, not one who arrived looked like his potential match.

Seungcheol was beginning to think he wasted his time, his energy, and his effort. Is that what it felt like? To put heart into something and be burned after. He hadn’t felt anything like this since—

He groaned, scanning the perimeter self consciously and never feeling more humiliated in his life. As if he was actually stood up from a date. Running his tongue against his molars, Seungcheol scoffed, plucking himself off his seat as he bowed his head to avoid eyes. He was filled with silent rage, seething with resentment for someone who did not even bother to show up and reject him in person. This was one of the reasons why he didn’t date.

As if on cue, the automatic glass doors opened, and a hoard of familiar voices were boisterously laughing as they entered the cafe, joking and jabbing at each other, as if ready to cue the sitcom music any time now. However, as Seungcheol barely lifted his gaze, they stopped in their tracks, flight or fight responses taking over and the instinct to survive this encounter held precedence above anything else. They straighten their postures like soldiers in a line up, changing their light atmosphere in the flip of a switch.

“Mr. Choi! Good to see you,” Seokmin greeted, his smile quivering.

“D-do you like their coffee too! How good to know,” Soonyoung followed, eyes shifting.

“Did you just have lunch, sir?” Chan managed to say while staring at his own feet, hiding behind Hansol, who respectfully nodded and kept eye contact to a minimum.

The office manager nodded, scheming an escape route to retain some ounce of the dignity he had left, if any. The exit was a mere couple of feet away. He could just walk out, and his subordinates wouldn’t have a say against it. The plan was ready to be set in motion until he felt something–rather someone, coiling their arm around his bicep. Their warmth jolted him erect, making him stand pin-straight, much like his employees when they came across him.

His head snapped at the unheralded intruder, locking eyes with a pair unexpectedly warm and wide, staring back at him with an unspoken fondness, and glint of humor. He couldn’t help but feel as if he’d seen them before, along with that smile that broke out so wide the cheekbones reached their eyes, but somehow still effortless.

“Forgot something?” You asked, beaming at him with anticipation, clinging to him for companionship.

Seungcheol narrowed his eyes at you, his intrigue now replaced with puzzlement and his head was filled with noise, none of which making any sense, starting with the person in front of him. “You–”

The crowd of Seungcheol’s colleagues all started harmoniously greeting you, their eyes lighting up and genuine smiles forming for the first time since encountering their superior outside the office. You were quick to entertain them, never leaving Seungcheol’s side as his arm essentially became a leash, lugging the thirty-year-old man around like a purse dog, and being at the receiving end, he was too stunned to object.

“Hi, you must work with this guy right here,” you grinned, nudging into Seungcheol with the crown of your head.

“How do you know Mr. Choi, Miss…” Jihoon began to ask, curiosity radiating off of him as much as it did everyone else.

“Well,” you took Seungcheol’s hand out of his pocket, interlocking your fingers together, earning a bigger reaction than a simple thousand-yard stare from the office manager. “I’m Seungcheol’s girlfriend.”

Everyone involved in the conversation stared at you as if you had grown a second head and Seungcheol looked at you as if you had grown a third.

“You and Mr.Choi?”

“This is news to us!”

“You both look so good together!”

You quietly laughed as they all prodded you with questions, while your supposed boyfriend did what only what his motor skills would allow him; that was to observe, watching how your expression turned just naturally light and jovial as you blatantly lie in front of the strangers before you. It’s when he realized for once in his life he feared someone, and it was this smiley little creature that lied through their teeth as easily as they breathed.

“Well, I’ve got to walk him back to the office,” you rolled your eyes playfully, “otherwise he will not go back, and he’ll lose track of time. It was nice meeting everyone. Maybe I can do it officially in better circumstances!”

“Of course! We’ll see you in the office, Mr. Choi!”

“Yeah, see you! Pleasure meeting you Miss!”

You made your way out of the cafe and onto the sidewalk and gunned for it as soon as you were out of their sight, all while he was still holding your hand, having not spoken a single word the entire altercation and not knowing a single word to speak thereafter. You sighed when you found an alleyway away from prying eyes, hands on your knees as you panted, reminding yourself you really needed to take advantage of that at home gym equipment you bought for yourself. “Finally. Wow, they’re really nosy, aren’t they?”

“Who the hell are you?” he finally asked.

You lifted your eyes to meet his eyes, seeing the pits of black that glared down at you. If you were phased by it, you didn’t let it show, only dusting yourself off as you stuck out your hand. The unwavering grin on your face. “Didn’t you hear? I’m your girlfriend.”

“You’re late,” he pointed out plainly.

“Yeah, you try to catch three buses and a subway to get here.”

“You could've gotten a cab.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “And waste my money? No, thank you.”

“You’re getting compensated anyway. Why would that matter?”

You gave him a teeth baring grin, ulterior motives written all over your face. “Well, actually, I had a deal in mind.”

Seungcheol scoffed, scanning his eyes over you as judgment fogged his vision. He trusted you as far as he could throw you–which frankly, could be really far, but there was something frightening about you. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “I’m not a gigolo and never plan on being one. You had one job and it was to be punctual and you’d get paid. How is that so hard?”

“But I did a good job, didn’t I? Pretending to be your girlfriend?”

He didn’t want to admit it, but you made a good point, and knowing you’ve already made an impression back at the cafe, the younger guys in the office had probably spread the news throughout the floor by now, if not then throughout the whole building. Just like those vicious rumors had spread. Except maybe for once the word ‘conniving’ or ‘intimidating’ wasn’t being used in the context.

He sighed, growing weary, checking his watch for the time, since he was in desperate need for this encounter to be wrapped up as soon as possible. “What is it you want?”

You grinned. “Well, to be honest. I need a fake boyfriend–”

“No.”

“But–”

“That’s not how things are going to work. I pay you to work for me. You do a job. And that’s that. There’s no deals to be made here.”

You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. “Wow, sorry, but this is actually crazy to me.”

“How the real world works? I do apologize that no one’s ever taught you that.”

You shook your head, smiling. “No, it’s just…Choi Seungcheol. You’ve really grown up, haven’t you?”

“Excuse me?” He asked, hearing his full name as if he was being told a slur. “However, you found my name, my status, you have a lot of nerve–”

“Eight years old. You had just won champions for competitors under ten and you felt like you were on top of the world. You wanted to scream but not because you had won, but because no one was there to watch you win, not anyone you cared about anyway. Except for one person, the person competing against you. So you screamed together at a nearby cliff in the mountains. You were still sad, bawling your eyes out, but at least you weren't alone.”

He couldn’t breathe. In his chest, something grabbed at his lungs, and it squeezed, cutting off his airways. His gut tightened and jaw clenched. He had never planned on being reminded of that time of his life again. “How…”

“Hi, Cheol. It’s good to see you too, bud.”

Seungcheol had a particular youth, and as a kid, he was forced to do more than enough to prove himself. Achievements were not only required but expected of him. If he won something, it was the standard. He had to learn quickly that everything was meant to be earned, not given, both fear and attention.

You were weird. You had a lot going on, and he didn’t like that. Yet, you took the same classes he did, performed as high as he did, were recommended to the same competitions, and commended for simply existing. It was blasphemy. His young little heart couldn’t fathom such anarchy.

He couldn’t understand it before, but he was jealous. Jealous of you, your family, your dynamics, and everything you represented. You were ignorantly happy, and he hated that you still were just as good of a student as him, even if it was just at taekwondo.

Things started to make sense when he decided to place focus on himself, the gold, the medals, and everything he’s worked hard to achieve. Why did it matter that you were barely great at taekwondo, he excelled. Not only that, he was getting straight As, a model student, and someone respected and feared amongst his peers.

Well, those kinds of kids don't cry when their parents don’t come to their taekwondo championships, do they? No matter how many times he’s reminded them of the day to ensure they make it. He felt so pathetic. So utterly alone. He was a fucking winner, yet he was whining and crying about mommy and daddy like a loser.

“Hi, are you okay?” the snot-covered young Seungcheol turned his head, seeing you, a silver medal winner asking if he was okay. Pathetic.

He was going to brush you off. Quite literally shove you away for wasting his time and invading his personal space, but you sounded so concerned, voice light and warm like sun rays, and before he knew it, your arms came around him, pulling him into a tight hug. His tears soaked someone else's uniform that day and that frustrated him like hell.

It had to be you of all people to see him cry. His rival. The bane of his existence. Well, the bane of his existence had nice hugs and smelled like strawberry smackers and sweat. He didn’t know how he knew what those were but remembering it all now, it’s exactly what they were.

It was then you convinced him to scream from that cliff with you. You both screamed so loud that it made the birds nearby fly away out of fear, and it made you both belly laugh so hard you fell on your backs. The tears had dried against his flushed cheeks by now, but he still felt them coming, every passing second just reminded him that his parents didn't find him all that important to celebrate. And when you noticed, you made him scream some more. Screamed until your throats hurt.

And you were right, he wasn’t alone anymore.

He had something to look forward to at every taekwondo class now other than the sense of accomplishment. He had a friend to spend time with. And for the next few years, you’d continue to be that person for him. His person. The only person who would know how to break him out of the mental prison he was forced into since birth.

The times waiting around to be picked up, he’d spend time with you, getting ice cream or eating the convenience store snack that he’s been told would rot his brain and eat away at his skin. Other days when they felt like it, they’d ditch class entirely, pretending they were sick just to go watch a movie or find somewhere far away to be themselves, alone together.

Then you both turned eleven. Eleven was when things changed almost drastically. New insecurities formed at that delicate age. Taekwondo classes were harder, kids were getting bigger and stronger, meanwhile you were getting taller. Taller than Seungcheol even, and that shook him.

Maybe that’s when your dynamic started to change. Then came a ripple of bad events, tumbling forward like a domino effect that led to the demise of your friendship. A series of events that Seungcheol forced himself to repress as it gnawed at him like a bad infection.

But not like the way your presence did at this very moment.

“Out of all of the people that answered…”

“Kind of like fate, huh?”

Seungcheol shook his head. “Or Divine punishment.”

You furrowed your brows. “Hey.”

"Okay, so, what? You think because we were peers in a Taekwondo class together it meant something?”

“Well, not really, but, you don’t think it’s nice to see a friendly face?”

“Someone I haven’t seen in twenty years is something I would hardly call friendly.”

Your smile fell a little for the first time, only to pick right back up as if it never happened. “Ouch, hurtful. But, I'm still very down to help you play your girlfriend; if you’ll help me, that is.”

Seungcheol looked over at you cautiously, wondering why you, someone who once threw caution to the wind, would take matters into your hands and fake-date for any reason. “Why do you need the help?”

You shrugged. “Bragging rights.”

His eyes could not roll further back into his head. “Can’t do that with a real boyfriend?”

“And you can’t get a real girlfriend to get your employees to like you?”

He stared back at you unamused, but with nothing to come back with.

You shrugged, knowing you had him backed into a corner. “Like it or not, we are alike, you and I. And, we kind of know each other, so it works out.”

“...How much do you actually need this?”

“Just as much as you do.”

He found himself contemplating, crazy enough to think that he could make a situation like this work. “Fine, we’ll draw up a contract at our next meeting during my next lunch hour.”

He started taking his leave quickly in the direction of his office building, not looking back. Still, you called out to him, with more to ask. “Our next date. Why not this weekend?”

“I’m not wasting my weekend for this.” he shouted back, his back shrinking away out of view.

“You’re not going to waste your weekend on your girlfriend?” you shouted louder, only for it to be no use; now you were just a woman screaming by yourself in an alleyway.

You didn’t have too many expectations for this appointment, you were just blessed that you were a freelancer and could make time for it at all. Otherwise, you would’ve never made that lunch. You managed to sneak past his line of vision, eyes darting at him immediately and processing his features before slowly backing away into a corner and taking up a booth. You wanted to observe him before you eventually met him face-to-face, ensuring he wasn’t some weirdo until you realized the face you were looking at was the spitting image of someone you once knew 20 years ago.

You had to be sure, pulling up your phone immediately to stalk any possible social media pages. You found a perfect match and the exact name. Hand over your mouth, you were beyond shocked, You hadn’t thought about this boy in ages and here he was before you, a grown man. A hot, brooding man.

What the actual fuck.

He started getting up, frustration and impatience written all over his face as he let out a big huff, and you couldn’t help but break out in a smile seeing him sulk until the panic sunk in that he was trying to leave. As he began to head to the door, the exits were blocked, the people passing through all smiles until they laid their eyes on him, and immediately you see their bodies tense up in his presence.

You were beginning to understand the severity and unease that settled in the room when he was present. It was as if their lighthearted comedy turned into a thriller in a matter of seconds. At that moment, you saw your window, so quickly you jumped through it.

You chuckled as you remembered his expression when he first caught sight of you, the pure confusion and bewilderment on his face when you introduced yourself to his coworkers. You were surprised yourself when he did absolutely nothing, but perhaps he showed it as a sign of faith, or maybe he was just that out of it.

Nonetheless, things seemed to work in your favor, and the fake boyfriend you’ve come across was none other than the Choi Seungcheol. A mixed bag of emotions, but something you could work with, way better than any internet creep. It just looked like there was a lot of catching up that needed to be done.

And soon enough, you were about to catch up to the fact that Seungcheol meant business and was anal about his terms and conditions.

“You have to be punctual, that was your only requirement in the ad alone. There cannot be a repeat of yesterday.”

You nodded, watching as he entered it in the shared document you both had displayed on both your laptops. “Okay, fine, but are you sure about discussing this here? What if you have a run-in with your coworkers again?”

“We’re in the corner, so we’re less likely to be spotted, and if we are it’ll look like another lunch…date.”

You raised an eyebrow, stopping at mid-sip of your Americano. “What was that?”

“What?”

“Why did you say it like that?”

He sighed, eyes visibly dull. “Like what?”

You moved your head animatedly, trying to prove a point. “Like you were choking on it. Like you were revolted by the idea of a date. A date with me?”

“Nothing personal. Don’t get defensive. This stuff is just arbitrary to me.”

“What’s arbitrary about it? People go on dates with people they like and sometimes fall in love. It happens every day.”

“Not me,” he retorted, typing in an important detail.

“So you don’t go on dates?”

“I work. Like everyone should be doing.”

“I work.”

He glanced up from the screen. “What do you do?”

“I freelance.”

“Hmm.” His eyes averted back to the screen. “Vague.”

“I make a good wage,” you emphasized. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

However, he didn’t seem to look convinced. “Are you sure you don't want to be financially compensated?”

“Shut up. I’m doing fine. Let’s get back to the contract please.”

“Finally.”

Things were officially being drawn up electronically before being sent over for you to sign, giving you a sense of relief and a weight off your shoulders. You craned your neck, feeling the strain of peering down at a laptop have its effect on you. “Okay looks like it's all good. Looks like we can finally be in business. What will be our first move, considering you are the first to have proposed the idea?”

“Yes, well, that will be the office party the company is hosting. Usually, everyone is required to attend, and I've skipped many events like it–”

“And you want me to come with you to make you look good for your team?”

“No, I want to make you an excuse so I don’t have to go.”

You furrowed your brows. “That’s counterproductive. Literally the opposite of what I’m here for.”

“But neither of us would have to go.”

Your fingers curled up into your palms, forming halfhearted fists before you unfurled them, trying to cherry-pick the right words to get through this tinman’s head. “You have to realize that simply having a girlfriend is not enough for people to like you. It’s about talking you up, showing off your redeeming qualities. Getting people to understand Seungcheol the person, not Seungcheol the boss.”

“Are you proposing I have no redeeming qualities?”

“You were trying to use me as an excuse to avoid going to a company party. What were you going to do with that time on your own?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“This is exactly why you need my help, Cheol,” you reminded, feeling like you’re lecturing a cat about not scratching up the couch.

He gave a light grimace, “You don’t need to call me that childish abbreviation. I have a whole name.”

You leaned over from your seat, staring over at him wide eyes, fluttering your lashes and feigning a lovestruck grin. “I need to give you a nickname if we’re dating. What about Babe? Baby? Honey? Lover?”

“Seungcheol is just fine,” he answered, unaffected, not bothering to look past his laptop.

Your smile dropped in an exaggerated scowl as you pulled yourself back down, crossing your arms. “How have your other girlfriends dealt with you?”

Seungcheol suddenly had nothing else to say, his eyes started darting everywhere but you, leaning back against the booth and preoccupying his mouth with his scalding hot vanilla latte.

Your eyes narrowed at him suspiciously as the silence persisted and the click-clacking of his keyboard, “Seungcheol, you have dated before, right?”

His eyes flitted back to you like a flickering flame before it went out, directing themselves back to his laptop, typing away at something at a more urgent pace, or looking as if he did.

“Oh my god. You haven’t.”

“Silence,” he finally said.

“You…You haven’t been on a date with anyone? With a woman? Or even a man?”

He rolled his eyes, groaning under his breath. “Don’t make a scene.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you reassured, “of course, I'm just very surprised…and confused. For 30 years of your life?”

“It was never something I prioritized.”

“Middle school. High school. College,” you began listing off.

“I went to an all boys school, and college does not leave much time for dating when you’re getting your Bachelor’s and Master’s.”

You waved your hands bizarrely. “So what? You worked your entire life?”

“Yes.”

“…Hmm.”

“What?”

Curiosity killed the cat, so the cat never came to know Seungcheol and apparently he never came to know the cat. “So if you’ve never been on a date, your intimate life…?”

He raised his brow, and sighed, realizing he was doing that a lot today. He closed his laptop, placing his hands neatly in his lap. “That goes without saying, but yes. I haven’t been intimate with anyone.”

“Right,” you responded, processing the information in real time.

“Are we done here? Is this game of 101 questions over with?”

“Just one more.”

“What?”

“What are you so big for then?” You asked earnestly.

His brows furrowed, before a subtle cocky smile crept against his face. “A healthy body in its top form is crucial for the average working man. It keeps my physical and mental health from deteriorating, and it’s the only way I can keep up with work, from carrying heavy work loads to travel. Aesthetics weren’t the goal, but thank you for noticing.”

“I didn’t compliment you for being big now, did I?”

Time running out on the clock, your meeting came to a close. You walked out together, keeping up appearances, and despite your protests, he started to hail you a taxi. You frowned as it arrived, seeing him open the door all gentleman like, but the stoic expression tattooed always on his face said otherwise.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I’m not walking you to a bus stop, so take the cab. I’ll pay if you’re in dire need of financial assistance.” You had choice words to say on the tip of your tongue before he ushered you in the back seat, ducking his head in and tapping his card on the machine to pay. “Wherever she wants to go.”

Looking up behind the back of his head, you caught the sight of a few familiar faces, the same ones that you ran into yesterday with and quickly you suddenly found yourself wrapping your arms around his torso. He stiffed under your touch, his arms stuck up hovering above you inside the car. “What are you doing?” he questioned, tone cold.

“Don’t look,” you whispered, “but I see some of your coworkers. Just roll with it until they’re gone.”

Your chin settled into the crook of his neck, fastening yourself and determined to hold on until they were out of sight. Meanwhile, he stared down the slope of your spine, watching your hips shift to comfortably align with his, fitting yourself around his frame, and he helplessly took in your perfume wafting in his nose, noting its clean and pleasant scent. Before he realized, his arms rose, hovering around over your back and moving to close in to claim your warmth.

”Okay, it looks like they left.”

Instead, you released him with a light shove out of the car and patted him on the back before waving him off. He watched as it drove off, your hand waving back at him frantically before the car turned left at an intersection and disappeared on the road. From then, Seungcheol quietly returned to the office to organize his thoughts. Down the street, past the front desk, up the elevator, down the hallway, and entering his office. In all that time, he still could not make sense of what just happened.

But then again, he was learning that he didn’t make sense of a lot of things. Like company dinners, why did they matter?

In fact, Seungcheol had his gripes about company dinners. They were loud, rambunctious, and were centered around drinking until one needed their stomach to get pumped. Don't get him wrong, he enjoyed the occasional glass of whiskey and a fine wine, but that’s not what this was.

Tonight, he was surrounded by blue and green bottles, then silver and green cans, all mixed to create a revolting concoction that the team seemed to thrive on to make the night a tolerable one, but what would have made it tolerable for a certain office manager was his fake girlfriend. His eyes shifted from one side of the restaurant to the other, seeing each member of his department slowly loosening their reins as alcohol poured into their system, pinking their cheeks and slurring their words. He did not look forward to the kind of conversations spoken out of turn under the influence.

The manager had been offered a drink five minutes after his arrival, surprised at the minimal spillage with how much Chan’s hands were shaking as he held it with both hands. Nevertheless, he accepted with a wordless nod as the cup was set in front of him, another working man comfortably escaping the clutches of Manager Choi.

Seungcheol was beginning to get annoyed at your tardiness. First it was the initial meeting—the one he still hadn’t gotten over—but now this was the first official public outing. You never cease to amaze him with careless conduct, as if life didn’t have consequences. It was almost as if you never grew up. This was starting to feel like a mistake.

“There you are!” Warmth snaked around his neck and tucked around his chin as someone’s cheek flattened against his.

He didn’t have to look to know it was you; only you were brave enough to commit this far, but he had just as much of a reason to be convincing as you did. He slightly turned his head, a vision of you in his peripheral before you faced him with a grin. “I’m sorry I’m late, don’t be mad,” you lightly pleaded, jutting your lips in a pout.

“Where have you been?” he bluntly asked, hoping it sounded concerned. It did not.

Your pout sunk deeper and you took the empty seat beside him, tugging on his arm. “I told you not to get mad!”

“She’s real?”

“You owe me 50 bucks! Cough up!”

The voices were growing louder, more banter rising at your sudden appearance, and Seungcheol was starting to wonder why he ever wanted this attention in the first place.

“Is this for me?” you asked pointing at the horrid cocktail Chan placed in front of your fake boyfriend before he then covered the top with the back of his hand.

“You evaded my question.”

“I was getting ready and lost track of time. God forbid, I try to look nice for my boyfriend and the people he works with.”

He lightly scoffed, almost impressed with the girlfriend's act.

“So you’re really Mr. Choi’s girlfriend?” An employee you’ve yet to meet sitting across from you asked.

“Yes! Why is that so hard to believe,” you chuckled.

Soonyoung, well off his rocker and having already taken down a bottle or two of soju, was quick to intrude. “Well, because he’s terrifying.”

And not even a second after, his coworker–Seungkwan, if you recall correctly–clasped a hand over his mouth, his eyes growing wide as saucers before immediately clarifying. “He’s exaggerating! Mr. Choi just seems very…reserved and independent. Maybe too involved with his work?” The man trod lightly, lowering his gaze as Seungcheol shot his eyes back at him when he might as well shoot laser beams. Seungkwan felt them burn through his skull as he internally scolded himself, repeatedly tapping his mouth, for possibly speaking out of turn.

You nodded, pouring yourself a shot and following with a slice of beef off the grill. “It’s true. He’s a lunatic.”

The room went silent, all eyes falling on you as your words sunk in. The second hand fear was palpable, even Soonyoung began to sober up. Seungcheol scoffed, turning to the side as you enjoyed your free meal, not giving a second thought to your insult.

“I tell him he’s always in the office. Always, always! When is he gonna make time for anything else? He might die in that office one day,” you egged, taking another piece of meat followed by another shot.

The young man who introduced himself as Joshua tried his best to come to your rescue, “Miss, that might be–”

“It’s why I started visiting him during lunch. If I didn’t he would live off chicken, rice, and those disgusting whey shakes, wouldn’t he?”

Team member Jihoon chortled before immediately piping down when he saw Seungcheol’s quick side eye before the manager directed his attention back to you, who had a lot to say. The entire team stood, thinking their superior was seconds away from blowing up his shit in your face, they braced for impact. Instead, he rested his elbow on the dining table, rubbing his fingers to his temple, simply responding with, “You’re so loud.”

You pointed childishly, taunting him as if it was recess at a playground. “See, he doesn’t even have a comeback! He isn’t human.”

“Why did I invite you again?”

“Because I’m pretty and delightful?”

“No, seriously.”

Relief fanned out amongst the crew, and held breaths were released as chuckles and smiles took their place. They could breathe knowing that they had you to distract him, settling the nerves they had. Finally, most of them could find themselves enjoying the rest of the night and drinking all the soju and beer their hearts desired.

Throughout the evening, you and Seungcheol would bicker, picking each other apart like an old married couple as the rest watched, occasionally joining in when a common interest was brought up. You would usually engage as Seungcheol just quietly sat back listening, sometimes silently agreeing, learning more things about his employees this one night than the entire year he’s been manager. Seungcheol hadn’t experienced anything like this, or if he had, he didn’t remember.

“You’re enjoying this,” Seungcheol said under his breath, watching you finish a third lettuce wrap.

“I am,” you whispered, chuckling.

“This is the strangest combination I’ve ever seen, but it strangely works,” Jeonghan, one of the more honest members of the department, confidently stated.

Joshua joined in, agreeing. “They really compliment each other for some reason.”

“How did you two meet anyway,” Jihoon politely asked, “If you’re comfortable telling that story.”

You turned to Seungcheol, “You want to tell them or should I?”

He gave you a look, one that said, it’s your job, and you quickly got the hint.

He was prepared for some cliche, something dumb like out of a romance movie. What he didn’t expect was the next words to come out of your mouth.

“We actually are childhood friends.”

“You’re the same age?!”

That set them off. Suddenly flurries of grown adults gather around you to hear your story with their starry eyes, eating out of the palm of your hand with every word. It was a talent how you could lie, sprinkling in bits of the truth for authenticity, making every word that came out of your mouth sound like scripture. All while you tossed back soju shots and Seungcheol nursed a single beer in his hand.

“You’re like a movie, childhood rivals to estranged friends to lovers, wow. Lifetime would pay millions,” Chan gushed with red cheeks, covering his face with his palms.

Jeonghan suddenly pounced at an exciting idea. “Love Shot. Love Shot. Love Shot. Love Shot.”

They rest followed after him, chanting louder and louder. “Love Shot! Love Shot! Love Shot! Love Shot! Love Shot! Love Shot!”

Seungcheol shook his head. “No, no. We’re not doing that.”

The chants immediately faded out, only a whisper of its remains left in the form of a lost Soonyoung.

“Don’t take it personal, guys. He’s a lightweight. He’s had that beer since he came in and still hasn’t finished because we both know he’d be out like a light if he drank even half of it,” You taunted.

Seungcheol felt challenge brew within him, narrowing his eyes back at you. “Oh, yeah?”

“It’s okay, Honey, being a weak drinker doesn’t mean it's the end of the world.”

The office manager huffed, standing up slamming the metal dining table and startling everyone around him. “One of you, any of you, bring us some soju and two of the biggest glasses you have.”

Their feet scrambled, and demands were met. Your fake boyfriend smirked back at you as he started filling up your glass, pushing it toward you before he started filling up his.

“Lun-a-tic,” you sounded, claiming the glass.

You scooted closer holding the cups in the air before locking elbows and gazes. The glass pressed to your lips, the bitter liquid making it past your mouth and feeling it burn down your throat and then brewing something sinister in your gut, having you struggle to finish it. Meanwhile, your opponent drank his as if it was water, his eyes staring back at you in mockingly, grinning apparently despite his lips being preoccupied.

This little shit.

You both ended with a clean finish, slamming the cups on the metal surface, and you’re swarmed with cheers, reminding you that you had an audience. The heat was instantaneous, spreading all over you like fire, as your eyes grew heavy, the rush of cheeks becoming less coherent and just noise at this point of the night.

“Yeah, they definitely did taekwondo together.”

“I have never seen Mr. Choi that competitive before. He’s so cool!”

That last bit made Seungcheol snicker as he wiped the remaining alcohol off his lips, observing you as you uncharacteristically remained quietly seated with nothing else to say. “And I’m the lightweight? Can you even stand up right now?”

You gave him a mocking look, pulling yourself up from your seat and began doing all the sobriety tests you could possibly think of. From talking in a straight line to touching your toes, you made sure to do all the nine yards. After feeling like you succeeded (you didn’t), you then blew raspberries in his face until finally doing your perfect impression of a big buzzer. “Try again!”

Seungcheol fell off his chair laughing, face bright red in the matter of seconds, belly laughing and stunning everyone that was lucky enough to witness before he crawled up to get back in his chair. He pointed at you, still laughing, “You look so stupid!”

“Oh,” Minghao pointed at his superior’s face, “He has a dimple.”

“Nevermind that, he’s laughing.”

“Take a picture! Take hundreds of them!”

The rest of the night became a blur, a chaotic blur Seungcheol was probably better off not remembering, but all of the things he did remember made him feel warm. Or perhaps that was the alcohol lodged into his system. Company dinners can be alright. He probably won’t go to all of them, but one here and there wouldn’t hurt.

The next time Seungcheol felt awake was when he was in his bedroom, the sun peeking through the curtain as it beamed down on him. It was rare for him to wake up after the sun came up. “What the…”

He had no idea how he got home, pulling the covers off himself and immediately looking for his phone and found it conveniently plugged, and said that it was– “9:34. Fuck.”

"Rise and shine, sunshine,” you said bursting through the room, and Seungcheol immediately threw the covers back on, hiding his body as soon as he realized he looked the shittiest he’s ever looked. “How the fuck–why the hell are you in my apartment? How the hell are you in my apartment?”

“I took you home yesterday.”

“There’s a keypad!”

You giggled. “You put in the code for me. Drunk you is very nice.”

“You were drunk too!”

You clamped your hands over your ears. “Stop yelling, god. I sobered up hours before you did. Hangover still sucks though.”

“Still doesn’t explain how you found out where I fucking live.”

“The ID in your wallet, of course, which you should really be more careful about giving it to people when you’re drunk because, holy shit, I would've scammed you. What if it got into the wrong hands?”

“I’M LOOKING RIGHT AT THEM!”

“OW! Chill out. How are you not hungover right now?”

“I am, but–shit, none of this is making sense.”

“Well, while you have your mid-life crisis, I left a hangover cure and breakfast on your coffee table. Eat it, you’re going to want it. I’ve got to go.”

“Wait.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you sleep here?”

You shrugged, “Oh the couch. It was like 2am and I was still tipsy, I wasn’t gonna go out there and become a statistic.”

“You just slept in a man’s apartment like nothing.”

“It’s your apartment. I’m fine.”

“Am I not a man?”

You rolled your eyes, waving him off. “You are hardly a human, iRobot. Now go eat. Oh, and remember next Sunday is my day, Carts and Tarts. Golfing and brunch with some of my college friends, I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“What did I tell you about weekends?”

“Make an exception, yesterday went extremely well. I think everyone is warming up to you a bit more, and all you have to do is stand next to me. And maybe smile, but that's it!”

He groaned, throwing a pillow in his face, the migraines kicking in hard. “I feel like shit.”

“Which means it was a success! We’ll go over what you’ll be wearing and a bit of characterization over the week.”

“Characterization?” Seungcheol mumbled, the word foreign on his tongue.

“Enjoy your Saturday!”

Carefully, you walked out, closing the door behind you and hearing the automatic lock click in pace. You passed through his front lawn, making your way past his gates, and you took sight of his neighborhood–admittedly prettier in daylight– before heading down the sidewalk to hail a cab. Waiting for one to arrive, you marinated in what transpired the night before and the images played in your mind in full color, as if it happened just moments ago.

“Fuck, you’re huge.”

“You tol’ me ta’ already.” Seungcheol murmured as he buried himself into your shoulder, letting you drag him to the entrance of his residence.

“What’s your code?”

“Secret,” he giggled.

To which, you rolled your eyes. “You put it in then.”

You pushed him closer to the keypad, holding his wrist up to the screen and lifting up his head so he could see the numbers. His eyelids almost sunk to the bottom, but it was barely visible enough to make out what was in front of him. “Oh, I know this game, I’m good at games…”

“I’m sure you are, try this one out.”

His finger limply hovered over the keypad, giggling up a storm.“ 0…5…2…6.”

“You said it was a secret and said it out loud anyway, are you that drunk?”

“I win!”

“Oh, my god.” You rushed him inside, hoping none of the neighbors showed up or were nearby to have heard that, and scanned the perimeter for his bedroom. His instinct kicked in the second he entered inside, and he pulled away from you, taking himself upstairs.

“He’s gonna fucking kill himself.” You trailed behind him, on every step behind him, ready to catch him behind every tumble, and ensuring that Seungcheol in no way hurt himself as he made it up those steps.

As he finally reached the top floor, he turned the corner, entered a very obvious bedroom, and collapsed on the king-sized bed in the center. He laid sprawl, limbs spread wide like a starfish, and the biggest grin on his face that showcased his dimple gracefully embedded in his cheek.

You chuckled before dragging his body up the bed, urging him off the covers to usher him under. “Okay. I’m leaving now.”

You then turned away, about to leave when felt something wrap around your wrist pulling you near the bed.

“Don’t go.”

Your head back to see Seungcheol at the brink of tears, his features softening at the sight of you as he curled up into bed, sniffling. You dipped a little closer. “You don’t want me to leave?”

He shook his head, whining childishly, “Stay…”

He pulled you closer, now ushering you on the bed, and suddenly you were there together, him ready to sleep all tucked in, and you firmly sat because a grown man with the most heart wrenching puppy dog eyes asked you not to go.

So you stayed, just as he asked, and slept in the living room once he was sound asleep.

You smiled to yourself, regretful you didn’t take a picture or record a video of the incident. Although, if you did and he found out, he would’ve killed you. Or, you would’ve had some delicious blackmail material. The world may never know. You were just happy to know he still had that side to him. It was refreshing, and honestly, it made you a little hopeful.

Now you had to see if you could drag it out of him sober.

“Now to be the perfect boyfriend, my friend group has always said that the guy had to check at least five of these boxes.”

He looked back at you, not showing any interest in the matter while absentmindedly drinking his Americano that he used to hate, but he’s been enjoying a lot more lately thanks to you. “Is this all really necessary?”

You nodded determinedly. “You’re unlikable, and you need lessons. Yes, this is very important.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve received two good mornings today, and only five people decided to hide from me.”

“No one should be hiding from you,” you rubbed your chin in thought, “Sounds like you still need work. I might have to phase in a new method.”

“Excuse me, what new method would that be?”

“Never mind that. For now, Carts and Tarts. The girls have always said a guy needs five things: eyes, ears, mouth, heart, and…” Your gaze lowered to his nether regions, and Seungcheol did a double take, covering his privates with a pained expression.

“Those are just body parts, and have some decorum, would you?”

You pointed to the first box you needed checked. “Eyes: they need to be able to pay attention to you, notice things about you that you or other people wouldn’t otherwise see. To be loved is to be seen.”

Seungcheol listening to your reasoning and then mentally noting it for later. “Ah, and ears.”

“Listening to what you have to say. Being heard is just as important, but it doesn’t stop at hearing the words, it’s understanding the meaning behind them, which brings me to…”

“Mouth. To speak?” he easily guessed.

You nodded, passing him a cookie. “Ask questions. Learn why they’re happy, sad, angry, or anxious. Or even, include them in your conversations, sometimes they want to hear what you’re interested in. I think you’re getting where I’m going next.”

He took apart the cookie, breaking it in half, and passed it back to you. “Heart. Have a passion for something.”

“Ding. Ding. Ding. Sometimes it's a job, or a family, or a passion projection, but there needs to be ambition and drive, but most importantly and above all, they love you. If they love you enough, they can balance both. They should have something in their life besides you, but still love you, you know?”

Seungcheol was buffering a bit on that last one but he decided not to question it. “I’m assuming that last one has to do with coitus?”

Mid-chew of your snack, appalled enough to speak with it still in your mouth while spewing out its crumbs, “Why would you use that word?”

“I knew I would invoke an interesting reaction, but not cause an avalanche.”

You rolled your eyes, tapping your mouth with a napkin. “Everyone wants to have orgasms in their relationships, it’s at the top of their Christmas list. I’ve seen so many relationships get broken up because the sex sucked or someone has a weird kink–and I’m not kink shaming! Being weird can be cool.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he said plainly.

“I’m just saying.”

“Never in my life did I expect this to be the topic of today’s meeting.”

You flatten your hands against the table, a satisfied smile on your face. “Well, now you understand. Try to pretend you're at least any one of these, and play up the boyfriend bit. You already know a little about me, just put it to good use.”

He observed you, studying your intent under the humor and lighthearted candor. “You really care a lot about this.”

“It’s just annoying how much they care about how much I'm getting laid. They’re a very large and very involved bunch.”

Seungcheol shut his eyes in disdain. “Why do they care?”

“Everyone is just either dating, married, or engaged. I'm the last person left, and I haven’t had a relationship that’s lasted more than three months. I just want them to lay off, make them think I'm dating someone with marriage in mind.”

“And when we don’t get married?”

You grinned, as if you have been waiting for this question to be asked. “I’ve curated a long 2-year plan to make us look like a committed couple. We fall in love passionately, so in love that we summer together and backpack over Europe, Asia, seeing all the great seas, seeing the world together…but then, I come back home, sad and single because even though you proposed and are desperately in love with me–”

“I think there are some plot holes–”

“You fall ill bitten by a radioactive spider exploring a jungle and pass away,” You concluded, exaggeratedly gasping into your hands.

“...isn’t that the plot to Madame Web?”

“You actually watched that?”

“You don’t know what I do on my weekends.”

“Watching awful movies is what it sounds like.”

He looked up to the ceiling, trying to visual all this together, as if any of this was remotely feasible. “We live in the same city, has it ever occurred to you that I could bump into any one of them?”

You shrugged, “Easy. You turn around and run in the other direction.”

“Your plan is horrendously flawed.”

“You wanna get married then?”

“Where’s the spider? I can get a headstart.”

“Just be a good little boyfriend.”

Seungcheol tsked.

“What?”

He looked off at the window, noticing that it was going to rain soon. Things needed to pick up if he wanted to get back to the office dry. “I just wouldn’t have thought that you of all people would cater to a society that cared about something superficial like having a boyfriend.”

Your smile faltered. “Well, a lot has happened in 20 years. And who says I’m catering to anyone? Ever consider maybe…forget it.”

He narrowed his eyes, challenge burning through them, “What? Finish your thought.”

“We’re done here. Just come on Sunday, follow the dress code, and don’t be yourself,” and with that you threw your tote over your shoulder and walked out, not bothering to wait for him to trail after you, hailing a cab on your own accord.

The rest of the week you would make your lunch ‘dates,’ but it would be mainly for show, having you only swirling your straw in your drink as you moped, halfheartedly being present for most of the time. Usually, Seungcheol would appreciate silence, but from you, it was deafening, even with the background noise of the cafe.

He pretended not to notice, sitting in silence with you, but he’d occasionally look up, seeing you glued to your phone, only interacting with him when it came to what they were contractually obligated to do for one another. He should’ve been pleased, yet, he was dying to talk to you.

Sunday finally came around and unfortunately, your bad mood had traveled with you, even in your cute little tennis skirt get-up you had been looking for the opportunity to wear. At least, Seungcheol had made the effort to look the part for the day. That morning you met, and he surprised you with his cooperation by looking like every country club asshole you've ever met, down to the pristine khakis and golf shoes with matching socks. You wondered if he bought that before the plans were set in motion, or if he already had it lying around. Either way, he looked convincing enough to persuade a few friends.

“Good job,” you whispered halfheartedly.

“How long do we have to be here?” He mumbled under his breath, cutting into his spinach omelet after forgoing all the possible carb options, just like you expected him to.

“Two hours, tops. Just watch them get a couple swings in and we can excuse ourselves after, say we have another thing we gotta go to.”

You were then greeted by a familiar voice, beckoning you from the other end of the table. Her eyes were bright and perfectly cat eyed, lips pink and glossy, but her voice was mature and curious, dying to pull the information she could out of you. “So, how did you two come to know each other?”

Chaeyoung had always been an instigator, asking the pressing questions and demanding answers. It was natural for her as a news investigator, and she was the one who insisted your new boyfriend come to initiate him into their pack. This happened to be the first time you accepted her challenge, earning her intrigue, and like she did with all your boyfriends she’s had the pleasure–or more often displeasure than not–of meeting, she had to get the rundown. And she would do whatever she could to get it.

You cleared your throat, wiping your lips with a tablecloth. “Well—“

“Not you, darling, let’s hear it from Seungcheol.”

He hadn’t prepared for this, snapping his head at you a glint of panic was in his eyes. You grinned over at Chaeyoung, holding onto Seungcheol’s hand that rested on the table. “Don’t go interrogating my boyfriend, he just got here.”

“Well, it’s only fair to tell his version while he's here. There’s never been a gathering as big as this with your other boyfriends. He has to be special if you brought him here today.”

“Chaeyoung—“

“I can tell the story,” Seungcheol finally reassured.

You looked at him confused then bewilderment, fearing the words that come out of his next could be the end all be all of this entire charade.

You had to stop him before he ruined this. “Cheol—“

“She came crashing into my life, and I haven’t known peace since.”

If your eyes bulged any bigger, they would be falling out of your head. “I—“

“Really?” Chaeyoung’s interest got piqued, leaning in closer as the everyone else at the table lowered their voice, hoping to listen in. “How so?”

“We had met before. A long, long time ago, and I couldn’t fathom her existence in the slightest. She was a mind bending whirlwind, like no one else I’ve ever met before, and I couldn’t get her out of my head. That period of our lives we spent almost every waking moment with each other, telling each other things that we promised not to tell anybody else. Like an oath. And then all of a sudden, one day, we lost contact. No calls, no letters, no voicemails. We didn’t speak to each other for years until…,” he turned to you, a subtle softness in his eyes that only you could barely recognize under that cold, stiff exterior. “We passed by each other at a cafe near my office. I didn’t know what to think of it first…but she called it fate.”

He turned back to everyone, and they all just stared, peering at the newcomer as if he was a saint dropped from the sky, while the women at the table swooned after listening to his story, clinging onto his every word.

“Men like him do exist…” Yeri said dreamily, ignoring her longtime boyfriend, who at the moment was scarfing down his fifth quiche.

You were shell shocked, jaw actually dropped slack until Seungcheol stuffed an egg tart in it, occupying your mouth to avoid suspicion.

“And he’s feeding her. Why don’t you feed me?!”

“Dammit, they’re adorable.”

You weren’t sure who you were sitting with anymore. The fake boyfriend you hired was a calculating, condescending, arrogant prick that relied on you to make him look good. How was he doing a better job than you?

“Do you golf, Seungcheol?” Baekho inquired, warming up to him after hearing the sweet fable. “If so, we have to see your swing.”

He replied back with a shrug, “I’ve dabbled, although I was going to take it easy today.”

He rested a hand on your shoulder. “This one isn’t sure how long we can stay.”

You glared at him, how dare he push the blame on you. You looked back at Baekho apologetically. “We had a prior engagement. I’m sorry. I mixed the dates up and couldn’t cancel on either one of you.”

“Oh, well, that doesn’t mean you can’t play. Just a round, what do you both say?”

Seungcheol looked at you, an unreadable expression on his face, and you truly do not know how to approach it in the slightest.

“Okay, I guess a round can’t hurt.”

Baekho along with many other guests lit up in excitement. “Well, what are we waiting for? On the field, we go!”

Several members of the brunch got a head start on the field, taking their clubs and carts as they started heading off the first hole. Meanwhile, Seungcheol pulled you aside, seeing that you were both alone with no one else to eavesdrop. “Do you know what you’ve just done?”

“What? It’s one round.” You shrugged. “A game can’t be that long.”

A pained expression struck his face, wrinkles forming on his forehead as he tightly shut his eyes. “Have you ever played golf?”

“No, I was never interested in it.”

“Jesus—do you see how big this field is? An average game of golf is four hours, sometimes more.”

Your eyes were about to shoot out of their sockets like any of the golf balls on the field. “Four hours?!”

“Yes, and you just,” he sighed, “Come on.”

He took you by your hands, noticing them covered in a pair of gloves before dragging you to your designated cart. “Why the hell do you own golf gloves if you don’t golf?

“I thought today was the day I’d start,” you cried, nearing the verge of tears as you came to the realization of the eternal hell you’ve subjected yourself to.

And Seungcheol did not lie, it felt as if it would go on forever. As everyone was putting, the sun was beaming down on you, slowly but surely killing your will to live. At this point, you welcomed it. You already started to envy the ice in your lemonade that melted, seeing it was given the mercy of peace from this endless boredom. You weren’t used to being outside for this long. During these brunches, you would be inside in the spa by now with mud baths, not getting ready to be spattered in mud puddles when a ball hits water.

“Fore!”

“Just let the ball hit me right at the temple, right here,” you quietly mumbled from your golf cart, watching Baekho in front of you take a swing as a couple of other members of the brunch spectated from behind.

Seungcheol reunited beside you, taking a swig of his water bottle and sweating after swinging a few times around the field. “I guess this counts as my workout for the day.”

“Congratu-fucking-lations,” you responded sarcastically, numb to all feelings.

He leaned over the golf cart, arms over the cart roof. “You had every opportunity to say no.”

“And I didn’t, okay? You gonna rub it in my face?”

He grinned, that dimple you once found cute growing increasingly irritating. “Potentially.”

“You’re actually having fun, aren’t you?”

He shrugged, not denying it. “Golf is entertaining on occasion, and it’s true I didn’t plan on playing, but it’s kind of nice to be playing with a group this big. It used to be just me and father.”

“He taught you how to play?”

“He thought it was good to teach about control. It forced me to utilize the amount of strength and helped me understand optimal angles. Once you master that, you can get closer to reaching your optimal target. He said that’s just about all you need to be the person you want to be in life.” Although he sounded as if he spoke fondly, a storm brewed in his gaze, one that it seemed like it would persist if you pressed on any further.

“Wow…somehow you made golf even more boring.” You stepped off the cart, stretching your legs and bending your knees to make sure they don’t give out on you in pins and needles. “I might go back to the club house. Get something more to eat, catch the news, learn about some new propaganda, anything but this really.”

His gaze pulled up behind, staring past your head at coming towards you both, eyes widening in fear. “Look out!”

His arms wrapped around you, clutching your body before he tore you away from the ground beneath you, and shielded you from the incoming impact. Your face buried in his chest, hearing the deafening screech of wheels scraping the grass as it dug into a puddle conveniently in front of you both and just in the way of the vehicle gone rogue, splashing mud water onto whoever was nearby.

“Oh shit, my bad!” Beomgyu, the cart boy and designated driver of the vehicle, said quickly before driving off.

Your heart was beating out of your chest, pounding against his as it raced at the same erratic pace. Your bodies intertwined with one another, his caging yours like a momentary safe haven. He pulled back you to level with him, feeling his firm grip hold you steady. “You okay?” Seungcheol asked, scanning you over.

You panted softly, your breath caught in your throat, since you were still in shock from the near collision that had just happened before calmly nodding. He looked you over, dusting any dirt and debris off of you, and he finally let you free once he was sure for himself you were fine. “You should’ve just stayed on the cart. That could’ve gotten really bad,” he scolded, pushing your golf cap over your eyes.

“Hey! Oh my god! What happened?”

Your friends rushed over after seeing the scene, prodding you with concerning questions to which you answered with ‘I’m fine’s and ‘okay’s. However, amongst the noise, you finally took notice of Seungcheol, specifically, the aftermath of the incident and his clothes stained in murky brown specks and splotches.

“Your clothes…” you pointed out with a guilt ridden face.

He shook his head reassuringly, “I’ll change once I get home.”

“Nonsense,” Minhyun retorted, “Grab something from the merch shop. Complimentary of course.”

“I appreciate it,” Seungcheol nodded, “I do think I’ll have to take her back home. I don’t know if I can keep playing after that just happened.”

“Of course! We understand,” Junhui agreed, looking toward you empathetically. “Make sure she’s okay, and take care, kid.”

“Thank you,” Seungcheol said, finally getting on the cart and driving off the field. It wasn’t until you were halfway across the field that you realized what he had managed to do in the matter of seconds you had. You pivoted your head to him, seeing that the concern that was once on his face melt into his default expression, phlegmatic with a hint of arrogance.

“You evil genius.”

Seungcheol smirked, looking at you through his peripheral vision. “‘Strike the iron, while it’s hot,’ I believe the saying is called.”

You made a visit to the merch shop as Minhyun suggested and met with the shopkeeper about getting their signature embroidered shirt with the country club's logo on the breast. He welcomed you, saying he was expecting you both after getting a call, but apologizing for the limited sizes. It was out of both your hands at that point, so you accepted it, handing Seungcheol off the medium and hoping for the best.

“I think this room is good.” You looked for an empty multipurpose for him to change into after seeing all the bathrooms nearby were closed for maintenance. The efforts to go further across the club for other bathrooms wasn’t worth the trouble, so this seemed to be the next best thing.

He followed after you, holding the shirt and walking in nonchalantly as you tried to quietly close the heavy door shut. He peered over at you, watching you behave strangely suspicious. “What are you doing?”

“Closing the door!” you shout-whispered. “What if people see us sneaking around and think we’re doing something indecent?”

“You think shutting the door quietly and whispering makes us look any better?” he asked in a normal volume.

“Well, when you put it like that,” you respond in your normal volume.

He rolled his eyes before pulling the bottom of his shirt up and over his head, seeing every inch of his abdomen: every muscle, every curve, and every vein.

“Woah,” you quickly turned around. “Just couldn’t wait to get your clothes off in front of me, could you?”

He scoffed, putting his dirty shirt aside before picking up the new one. “Why’d you turn around? Nothing you’ve never seen before, I’m sure.”

“Did you just slut shame me while you’re the one taking your clothes off? The gall!”

He pulled his newly acquired shirt over his head, feeling it hug his body as he stretched out the fabric. “You can look now.”

You spun back, seeing that the shirt they’ve got might have been a tad smaller than they anticipated, compressing against him to the point that his muscles bulged at the seams, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. He might as well not have worn a shirt at all. “That might be a bit small on you,” you stiffly pointed out.

“Well, it’s all we have.” He looked in the reflection in the mirror placed on the wall, unfortunately agreeing with you, checking himself in the mirror and already feeling it start to chafe.

“I’m surprised you did that today,” you brought up. “The speech, then the crazy save, wow.”

He scoffed, “Yeah, so was I. You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. How did you improv all that so quickly?”

He shrugged, attempting to stretch the fabric even a little bit, hoping it wouldn't tear. “I didn’t really. I just said how I felt.”

“Wait, really?”

He slightly turned his head. “Yes. Like how I couldn’t fathom how someone as insane and careless as you existed.”

You clenched your teeth, knitting your eyebrows together, “You fu-“

“Or when I couldn’t get you out of my head. It’s true, I made it my life’s mission then to beat you at every taekwondo match possible.”

“I hate you so—”

“And you said it was fate, not me, so technically I didn’t even lie.” He turned back, walking back to you, “Then again, omission is a form of lying on its own. You would know since lying to my employees is like an Olympic sport to you.”

Your nose scrunched, displeased. “Your welcome, whatever. We fooled them. Good work. That will keep them off my back for a couple weeks.”

He clapped his hands. “Good, sounds like my work is done.”

“Ha. For now. Your end though, still requires a lot of work. Look forward to that overtime.”

That’s where phasing the new method came in. It was a risky move that you had your doubts about, but considering the trauma bonding that fine Sunday, you were sure Seungcheol could warm up to the idea. However, it couldn’t work if he knew it was happening, that’s why he had to go in blind.

[part 2 immediately found here]

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @kyeomiis @wonwooz1-blog @horanghaezone @stagefrjghts @pantumin @aaniag @mochisdayone @gyuguys @idubiluranghae @flwrshwa @itsmarieposa @palmsugr @apriyada @skittlez-area512 @choco-scoups @actuallynarii @tournesol155 @vvvlog @nerdycheol @christinewithluv @alyssa19123456 @kwonhs96 @scheolrriess @ch-rrycloud @fancypeacepersona @obsessionreads09 @userelv @minahaeyo @cookiearmy @wonwooz1 @carefully325

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dellamortethelesser · 9 hours ago

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The Wigmaker Job

Notes and Thoughts - Part 2

pt1 | pt2 | pt 3

Picking back up in the next scene, Lucanis and Illario are exiting the tavern on their way to the contract. Here, they are described as "lean with dark hair and umber eyes". ← THIS MEANS THEY PURPOSELY GAVE MY POOKIE BLUE EYES TO MAKE HIM LOOK MORE EVIL.

(I also forgot to mention in the previous scene they discuss that Illario fastidiously grooms his 5 o'clock shadow so they also took THAT from us. But! Veilguard did give him a huge ass… no, I need his brown eyes back).

"Illario was all smiles. His was a calculated handsomeness. From his smooth skin to his perfect, white teeth, everything was contrived to be enticing". ← insane thing to say i think what did caterina do to influence that so strongly. like yes, lucanis is a mage-killer and that's certainly a Niche, but let's not pretend that Illario isn't filling a different sort of niche. both of them have been trained to be more valuable Alive than Dead.

"As they walked through the crowd, he basked in the appreciative glances he received," ← unsure whether this is omniscient on part of the author or intended to be directly lucanis's pov. this specific passage i've never been able to figure it out. if it's lucanis's pov though, i would wonder if that 'basking' isn't just… a front.

I have to assume this passage is somewhat omniscient because it goes on to say that "… while Lucanis stared ahead, focused and intense. He was the kind of man you couldn't look away from—until he looked at you." ← i have to assume this is all referring to Lucanis? if so? because if it is lucanis's pov why would he… idk. 'the kind of man you couldn't look away from' could still refer to illario? idk. it's a really hard passage for me to parse i feel stupid. debate in the reblogs

This whole next part of the story makes me insane because it's just further emphasizing my point that Lucanis gives absolutely no thought to Illario as an equal working with him on this contract—THAT HE ASKED ILLARIO TO BE HERE FOR. i'll try to break this down but i recommend just reading along in your own copy alsfjk

"So what's the plan? Now that Ambrose knows we're coming" / "We were never going through the front door." ← Illario is asking here, now that there's proof the Venatori know the Crows are after them, what the new plan is. he is only JUST NOW finding out that Lucanis never HAD a plan that didn't account for this? again i'm not sure how lucanis "knew" unless it's supposed to make him out to be the better assassin, but it reads as though he was purposefully keeping Illario in the dark.

hang on let me just directly quote this next part

"I bought THIS—" Illario gestured towards his tunic. "Because YOU said we were dispatching Tevinter's 'premiere' wigmaker at an exclusive party. Emphasis on exclusive." "Uh-huh." "It was a rush order. We were with the tailor for hours." "I recall." "Why let me go through the motions of purchasing formal wear for an event we're not actually attending?" "I know how much you enjoy dressing up," Lucanis goaded and ducked under a pointed archway.

But. You are attending this event. Crucially you are in fact both attending this event and do need Illario to dress the part to get YOU where YOU need to be. Why are you goading him on like this?!

You're both on the way to this contract—and Lucanis is leading him through a back entrance, btw, AND THE FACT THAT ILLARIO DOESN'T ALREADY KNOW THAT TELLS ME THAT LUCANIS DIDN'T TELL HIM THAT PART OF THE PLAN EITHER—so why are you doing this?!

Lucanis why are you fucking with him like this on purpose? THERE'S NO REAL REASON GIVEN IN HIS NARRATIVE SO I HAVE TO EXTRAPOLATE THAT THIS IS JUST NORMAL FOR THEM. WHICH ISN'T NORMAL

quick interlude to add that Lucanis's 'bleeding heart' sympathies are here from the jump; he is aware of the cultural importance of the vhenedahl, and remarks that the magisters trying to make a statue to keep their slaves in line had the opposite effect.

Again Lucanis reveals some way into the passageways they're using—that Illario didn't know about on both accounts—and is SMUG ABOUT IT. HE TOSSES ILLARIO A SMUG LOOK OVER HIS SHOULDERS.

"I wouldn't complain if you filled me in," he grumbled. "Yes, you would." "As much," Illario conceded. "I wouldn't complain as much."

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN BY THIS LUCANIS. The dynamic between them is just consistently reinforcing the idea that wherever Lucanis goes, Illario is expected to follow, unwaveringly, unquestioningly, and to be quite honest i would be driven fucking insane.

We're only so many pages in and there is a very clear way that Lucanis treats Illario just in the context of working CONTRACTS together, and that way is… not very good! YOU INVITED HIM HERE. WHY ARE YOU KEEPING HIM IN THE DARK?

I say this like I don't understand but a lot of people have rightly pointed out that this is their 'normal'. This is learned behavior, a learned dynamic, and I do believe Caterina is partly responsible for fostering it by showing such clear favoritism to Lucanis and likely giving him behavior to model.

Which goes back to my previous question of… why? If you're not going to name an heir and want this to be a winner takes it all relationship, why show such clear favoritism?! THESE ARE YOUR LAST TWO LIVING RELATIVES, CATERINA.

Back to the book. Lucanis's elf contact greets him with "Master Dellamorte". Cool! When she looks for an introduction, though, it is Illario that butts in with "Master Dellamorte the Lesser". ← hi my love. why did you do this? well because it reinforces the same shit we've been seeing the whole time. and calls back to how he already referred to lucanis as 'the great' in their first scene together.

"My cousin," Lucanis clarified. ← no defense or correction? fine maybe not the time or place. one of the more neutral statements that Lucanis has said to him but he's damned by faint praise and the fact there is no INNER NARRATIVE QUESTIONING ILLARIO'S ANSWER MEANS THIS IS ALSO ASSUMED TO BE NORMAL.

Heading up the passage. It's magic. the room spins

"Lucanis bit back a laugh as Illario held out an arm to steady himself." ← WHY. why is this funny to you. okay now im sounding like i'm seething at lucanis which i kind of am BUT TRUST I STILL LOVE HIM

THIS DYNAMIC IS JUST INSANE TO ME. okay anyways next bit. i'm covering one more scene and then will do another post for part 3. together we can work through this story a few pages every day. I'm gonna break up this last bit in some chunks

"You've made friends." / "You would too, if you ever left Treviso." / "I'm here now, aren't I?" ← Illario was trying to be nice. Lucanis immediately takes a shot at the fact that Illario stays in Treviso (are we implying here that Illario doesn't take jobs? Doesn't work?) and Illario reminds him that HE CAME TO VYRANTIUM FOR LUCANIS. He's here for you!

"Seriously, though, what is this place?" "A perk. Given by our mysterious benefactor." Lucanis quickened his pace, hoping to leave the answer at that. Illario did not take the hint. "Speaking of, I have some questions about him… her… them?"

1) diversity win

2) AGAIN. Illario is being kept in the dark about things and Lucanis is intentionally not sharing them. WHY? We are never given a reason WHY from Lucanis. Just that he doesn't want to share anything with Illario—ostensibly about their client but ABOUT THE WHOLE CONTRACT IS WHAT THE NARRATIVE SHOWS.

"Oh, come on," Illario urged, matching Lucanis's pace. "When have we ever taken on an anonymous client?" "Since someone could put tangible stock in the phrase 'Silence is golden'." "You're not the least bit curious?" Lucanis exhaled through his nose. "If someone wants to pay me top coin to kill a bunch of racist blood mages—who have it coming—I'm not going to complain."

again we see Lucanis's sympathies coming to light. these are not bad feelings to have obviously we should hate racists. but they are assassins paid to kill and not get emotionally entangled in the job which Lucanis consistently does in this short story.

additionally. again. the way he talks to illario. i just. can it be stated enough at any point.

Quotes are either paraphrased or taken directly from The Wigmaker Job, written by Courtney Woods.

#dragon age #the wigmaker job #tevinter nights #dragon age analysis #dragon age meta #long post #my analysis #illario dellamorte #lucanis dellamorte #caterina dellamorte #house dellamorte (meta)

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cosmerelists · 3 days ago

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I Assign Cosmere Characters A Random Animal As Their Pet

I'm using the random generator from this post. I've already created a list of Cosmere characters (it's just the main characters I always do, ha ha), and then I'll randomly assign them a pet and see how they fair! For the record, these results are not altered at all!

[For the purposes of this post, we're gonna pretend that any animal that comes up would make a good and ethical pet, okay? Please don't actually try to adopt a bear.]

1. Kaladin: A dromedary (a type of camel)

Kaladin: [stares at the camel] Camel: [stares at Kaladin] Kaladin: T-This is just a bigger, meaner horse! Kaladin: I can tell just from one glance into its eyes that that hump is full of SPITE Camel: [spits at Kaladin] Kaladin: I KNEW IT

2. Vin: A mustang (a type of horse)

Vin: Yes, yes, you think you're soooo pretty and fast, don't you? Vin: I'm faster, you know. Probably. With enough metal. Vin: So just don't you getting to big for your horse britches! Elend: Wow! What a beautiful horse! Vin: Don't you start!

3. Shallan: A monkey

Shallan: What a cute little monkey you are! Shallan: With the little outfit Adolin sewed for you, and the paintbrush I gave you! Shallan: A regular little monkey artist! Pattern: [buzzing] I keep telling you, Shallan, this creature wants to be like that one person I saw when you were looking for the herald! It wants to be paint with its p- Shallan (loudly): We'll just use regular paint, thank you!

4. Tress: A mandrill (largest monkey in the world)

Tress: Wow, you have such a pretty face, ma'am! Tress: And a large girl like you won't need to fear any mean ol' cat, will you! Charlie: I feel strangely inadequate. Tress: I-I didn't mean it that way!

5. Dalinar: A bear

Dalinar: You and I are a lot alike, bear. Dalinar: We are both large and intimidating, and we can hurt a lot of people if we get violent. Dalinar: ... Dalinar: Also, apparently Navani really likes to cuddle with both of us. Navani: He's soooo soft!

6. Painter: A bighorn (a type of sheep)

Painter: I like him. Painter: He's got a noble bearing. You can tell with those big horns and steely gaze, he's probably king of his herd or something. Painter: So please stop stacking chopsticks on his head. Yumi: Come on, he LOVES his chopstick-tower-hat! Bighorn: [making happy sheep noises] Painter: I-I just think his gravitas is taking a hit.

7. Leshwi: A burro (a type of donkey)

Lewshi: I'll admit, I was really hoping for an animal that could fly. Venli: Surely anything can fly if you lash it to the sky. Leshwi: I tried that. Leshwi: Apparently donkeys don't like to fly.

8. Adolin: A basilisk (a type of lizard)

Shallan: So...why the little cape on your lizard friend? Adolin: He runs across water! It's cool, but I thought it would look even cooler if he was wearing a cape while he did it! Shallan: Where do you find enough water for that? Adolin: Well...he's mostly been running across a bathtub. Shallan: Ah, so he REALLY needs the coolness factor of a cape... Adolin: Yeah, I think it'll really help his self-esteem.

9. Steris: A sheep

Wax: Hey Steris. Steris: Hello, Wax. Wax: I can't help but notice that where yesterday was one sheep, today there are fifteen sheep. Steris: I read that they feel better in herds! Wax: You always go all in--I love that about you. Wax: ... Steris: ... Wax: So we're sheep farmers now? Steris: A little bit, yeah.

10. Navani: A ferret

Sibling: NAVANI YOUR FERRET IS RUNNING THROUGH MY TUNNELS AGAIN Navani: It loves you! Sibling: IT'S LIKE THAT LIFT CHILD ALL OVER AGAIN

11. Siri: A budgerigar (bird)

Siri: This little guy is perfect for me! Siri: Colorful, small, sweet! Siri: I'm teaching it to talk! Budgie: Let's destroy evil! Siri: ... Siri: Uncle Vasher was here again, wasn't he?

12. Kelsier: A duckbill platypus (yes, really)

Kelsier: Everyone, meet the newest member of our team! Dockson: Uh...what is that? Vin: It looks like a bunch of different animals stuck together. Breeze: Rather unsightly, really. Ham: You, uh, doing okay, Kel? Kelsier: You're all such doubters. But watch what happens when I do THIS! [Puts a fedora on the platypus] Vin: ...Why do I suddenly feel like he's going to make a great spy? Kelsier: Trust me, this is gonna be great!

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Kaladin #Adolin #Shallan #Kelsier #Dalinar #Navani #Leswhi #Siri #Steris #Painter #Tress #Vin

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lilliths-not-just-httyd-blog · 2 days ago

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every time people find a reason to start clowning on david seymour, i've learned to immediately ask myself "did he manufacture this himself and what he is trying to overshadow?"

it's very fun and cathartic to clown on the guy, don't get me wrong. but i do genuinely worry that, in many cases, he's aware that we love doing it, and is trying to bait us in one direction by making a scene of himself so that we're not looking in another when something important is happening. think how the woke sushi meme, for a while there, was seeming to overshadow the actual important discussions about kids not being fed.

news headlines will latch onto whatever is eye catching. sometimes it's the shock value, sometimes it's the absurdity, sometimes it's the comedic aspects. and i have to wonder if david is intentionally conducting himself in a way that tricks people into latching onto those eye catching spectacles.

there is no way this man is dumb enough to believe that everyone likes him and his policies. he's arrogant but he's not that dumb. and i'm sure he knows that he can leverage our hatred of him for his own gain.

i'm beginning to really believe that privatisation has been the goal from the start. it would be very easy. you simply implement a bunch of really shitty policies that fuck up the economy even more than it already was. you keep making shit worse on purpose until public services such as healthcare, ferries, social housing, all this shit is barely afloat. and right when it's about to go under, you sell it off to private firms for a cheap price. easy two step privatisation scheme. and all the while you distract everyone with unserious scandals like woke sushi and land rovers.

keep your eyes open for as long as these guys are in power. i do not trust these fuckers with anything. i'm very concerned that there's some major scheme in the works here that we're all falling victim to, something designed to strip us of public services. hell, even the fucking treaty principles bill could be a massive part of that scheme. look how massive a shitstorm that's caused; and rightly fucking so, anyone who messes with te tiriti needs to be held to account. but why the fuck is david so damn committed to this stupid fucking bill which he KNOWS will not and should not ever pass? (other than the fact that he'd a racist todger)

what else are they trying to distract us from seeing?

fight as many of these shitty bills as you can. regardless of whether it's all connected to a wider scheme or not, whether david is intentionally trying to distract us or not, whether i'm right or wrong, they still need to be fought. the economy is still being massacred regardless. bigotry is rampant among the elite. people are suffering. there's obvious government lobbying and corruption going on. we can't let anything slip under the radar.

and sweet fuck, i hope i'm just reading too far into things. if only so i don't have to give david the credit of being that intelligent ;-;

#nzpol #nz politics #aotearoa #new zealand #treaty principles bill #te tiriti #treaty of waitangi #david seymour

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should-be-sleeping · 1 day ago

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Hi, hello, go fuck yourself. :)

First,

Secondly, by the 40's only 33% of farms even had electricity. What timeline are you from? Because it isn't this one. Farm equipment largely ran by man or horse power until the 50's and even the labor done by beast of burden required human labor. I never said by hand, that was a you embellishment. We still use man power in farming today even with all the advancements to technology and its prevalence. Hell, slave labor is still utilized today, what rock do you live beneath?

Third, I love that you genuinely think that working for actual mobsters is nonviolent, that's very... special. I figured the average reader could connect A to B and get the hint yet, here you are, acting like the hint is some big gotcha revelation you alone have uncovered with your massive throbbing intellect. But, what should I expect from a nazi apologist that got banned from reddit for spreading misinformation?

By the way, just for the record, the average age in which children join a gang today is still 12-14. Your bland experience is not universal. A story that seems wild to you is just someone else's Tuesday. It'll be okay though. Just remember: the world is a vast and varied place!

In conclusion, I'm sorry that you think skepticism alone makes you smart, but it doesn't. Wow, log off. Holy shit. Once again, please don't forget to go fuck yourself. I know I was trying to politely explain the linear passage of time earlier but I want to make it very clear that you're an unlikable person and I do not like you. I had to spell that out to be sure we're on the same page, because we definitely weren't when you took the time to write all that nonsense earlier that you're clearly unqualified to even think about in the privacy of your own thoughts let alone regurgitate out loud.

Imagine reading a post about hope and positive influence and deciding you need to refute it (incorrectly in every way) because you're such a miserable cavity of a person.

P.S. I'll save you the time of a reply by blocking you outright as you've more than proven you have nothing to add to any conversation above the 4th grade level, have the personality of a wet sack of rancid onions, and behaving Like This on purpose is clearly doing your mental health no favors, just fyi. Have the life you deserve.

P.P.S. Had I realized earlier they think Elon Musk is a genius, I could've saved time and just said: lmao. Alas.

P.P.P.S. This dude is being so normal about being proven wrong, and blocked, that he's apparently posted a long winded rebuttal wherein he continuously embellishes the original story with his own interpretations of events because he has the reading comprehension of what I can only assume is on par with a goat and the most terminal case of Must Be Right I've ever seen online. He cannot disprove the words I actually typed, so he's just making up new ones. He goes on to conclude illiteracy was and is rare by proving it is still common by existing himself (the modern rate is 21% btw). Interesting hill to die on, but at least he's dead.

He probably heard "all press is good press!" once and now spends time trying to debate more popular blogs hoping 1 or 2 of their followers will then read his fanfic, but this is the extent of attention given. In a week no one will even remember him here and he'll still be typing. It's not a debate if the other person has a fundamental commitment to misunderstanding you.

Re: Hobbies

My grandfather was born during The Great Depression. He attended a one-room school with all the kids in the neighborhood until his teacher deemed him a lost cause. As a problem child he was sent out back with the other misfits during school hours with a stack of comic books to entertain themselves – because they couldn’t read but could look at the pictures. He and the others taught themselves to read so that they could figure out what was going on in the panels. Daredevil and Batman are the only reason he knows how to read. After a fire destroyed his family’s home, he lived in a shack with his mother, father and five other siblings. Suffering third degree burns over more than half of her body during their escape from the blaze, he was removed from school to care for his mother and spent the next few years watching as she slowly died. One of her only comforts was in knowing that he had learned to read so he could make something of himself one day. After losing his wife, my grandfather’s father sold him and his sister to two different families a few counties over. Using the money from those transactions, he was able to keep the remainder of the family afloat. No one knows what became of my great aunt but my grandfather wound up on a farm where he was no longer allowed the luxury of reading, or anything really. My grandfather lived the next handful of years as a slave on a potato farm where he slept in a barn and was given nothing to eat but extra potatoes. If there were no extra potatoes, he did not eat. It is important to remember at this point in time, he was very much still a child. He should have been reading comic books, but instead he was working sixteen hours a day without pay. Finally he could take it no longer and ran away. He hopped into a train car and wound up in the city. By the tender age of twelve he was living in an abandoned building with all the other discarded children of that time period and rats the size of small dogs. He wound up in a gang, fighting for survival in a place that didn’t care enough about starving, suffering children to help them in any way. Sometimes he’d steal comics and read them to the other kids. He was doing things to survive that all his comic book heroes would have condemned him for and that realization, and some good luck, are what got him out of that situation he found himself in. He ran into one of his brothers by sheer accident and neither of them even realized it at the time. Two meetings later, the cat was out of the bag and my grandfather had an “in” to an honest job. He should have been starting high school but instead he was starting a factory job. At least it wasn’t stealing or robbing. At least he was being paid for his manual labor. His first paycheck he gave to the kids he used to run with so that for just one night they wouldn’t have to resort to violence. That is the last time he saw them. He doesn’t know what became of any of them. He met his future wife and through her more doors opened. Driven by this goal to not be The Bad Guy he excelled at all the odd jobs he wound up with and after a lot of heartache and strife, wound up wealthy. Money doesn’t make you exempt from tragedy however. He lost the love of his life before the age of thirty and had to raise their three small children as a single father. Introducing my uncle to comic books is what helped keep him around when, as a teenager, Depression threatened to take him from the world. While still grieving his best friend stole millions from their business leaving him in debt. He’s faced a lot of discrimination solely due to the color of his skin… but none of it has jaded him. If anything it has only, somehow, made him kinder. He is without a doubt the best human being I have ever personally met. He hires maids and maintenance people just to pay them, serves them lunch when they arrive and lets them hang out – just to give them a day off. At eighty he does all his own housework and lawn care. He walks the neighborhood’s dogs. Even though he isn’t rich anymore he still tips fifty percent when he eats out, even at fast food joints. He doesn’t have much time to volunteer but he gives so much of his money to charities and people he runs into on the street who just need something good to happen in their day to make it to the next. And he does all of this to make up for this brief period of time in his life when, as a literal child, he had to hurt people and do bad things to survive. He still lives his life in accordance to some super hero code he picked up as a child that taught himself to read behind a school that gave up on him. Reading matters. Having something unimportant to care about is important. Small things are actually huge. They make the difference. If my grandfather’s origin story has taught me anything it’s that when you’re at your lowest moment, there’s always that one thing that can help guide you through it. “It’s just a hobby” can save lives. Reading, television, art, dancing, gaming, writing, sports, knitting, collecting, singing, whatever gives you joy. Never feel foolish for caring deeply about something commonly viewed as frivolous or a waste of time. It’s not. I cannot stress that enough. It’s okay to like things and for those things to be important to your day to day life. It’s okay.

#reads like an a.i.#bro I'm just autistic #fuck off too #thanks for bringing me to the anger stage of grief #i guess #edited for absolute clarity

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rottenpumpkin13 · 1 day ago

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What's AGSZC idea of romance? ❤️

Sephiroth: Poor man's idea of romance is so endearingly mundane it's almost painful to watch. When his person of interest remembers his coffee order, he practically short-circuits. They send him a "good morning" text, he'll analyze it for hours with a small smile he thinks no one notices. He melts when his someone asks if he's eaten today, because apparently basic human concern is the height of romance when you've spent your life as Hojo's science project. Brushing his hair? He's already planning the wedding in his head. The man gets emotional whiplash when his person remembers small details about him, like his secret love for cats or how he actually enjoys sweet things but is embarrassed to admit it. The mighty Sephiroth, brought to his knees by his special person simply asking "are you taking care of yourself?"

Angeal: This man's love language screams domestic bliss so loud it's deafening. His idea of a perfect date is cooking together, trading stories while chopping vegetables. Gets absolutely weak when his partner shows interest in his plant collection or asks about his family recipes. Dreams of Sunday morning farmers' market trips and waking up in bed together. The way to this man's heart is through showing responsibility and stability; pay your bills on time and he'll swoon. Nothing says "I love you" to him like discussing retirement plans or showing genuine interest in his opinions. He's definitely thought about what herbs he'd grow in his future shared garden.

Genesis: A dramatic romantic to the bone. Needs affection like others need air—to both give and receive. His person can expect constant cuddles, random sappy poetry, dramatic declarations of love. Will absolutely spoil his partner rotten with gifts, attention, and affection, but expects the same energy in return. Physical touch is essential; he's always finding excuses to hold hands, fix his person's collar, or simply lean against them while reading. Gets ridiculously happy when they quote poetry back at him. Loves being pampered but equally loves doing the pampering; will run his person a bath complete with rose petals and the most expensive salts available. Probably has a dedicated drawer just for love letters he's written.

Zack: Unconditional love and enthusiasm. His entire concept of romance is "how can I make their life better today?" Will remember the most obscure detail they mentioned once in passing and turn it into a thoughtful gesture months later. Gets excited about doing mundane tasks together—grocery shopping becomes an adventure when he's involved. Would literally run across continents if his person said they missed him. The kind of person who leaves little notes in their lunch box and sends random "thinking of you" texts throughout the day. His idea of romance is being completely, unabashedly devoted. Has definitely injured himself trying to recreate romantic scenes from movies.

Cloud: His idea of romance is sweet, but his actions are so subtle his person might miss them if they're not paying attention. His romance is all about the little things—making sure his person's car is maintained, standing slightly closer to them than necessary, accidentally-on-purpose brushing hands. Gets flustered at direct affection but will fight Bahamut bare-handed if it threatens them. Physical closeness is his secret weakness— melts internally when his person leans against him but tries to play it cool. His love language is practical care wrapped in shy affection. He'll spend hours upgrading his person's equipment but gets tongue-tied trying to say "I love you." Has probably memorized his person's schedule just to make sure they're safe, but will claim it's "just coincidence" that he's always around when they need help.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #genesis rhapsodos #ff7 crisis core #angeal hewley #zack fair #cloud strife #crisis core #crisis core headcanons

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 2 days ago

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Hello! Hope not to bother with this ask but I read most of your analysis and I really love them. While I don't always feel the same about some things, I really like how you take the situation and look into aspects that may not be easy for everyone to see.

I also wholly agree with the "it's the writing and execution, not the concept or the characters' fault" point. I hope it doesn't come off as rude, but I really enjoy comparing views and points and while reading your post about the ladynoir conflict in season 4, I had some thoughts sparkling so I wanted to see your view on them. I also hope it makes sense how I present these points, since English is not my motherlanguage. You mention how Ladybug doesn't know that she's doing wrong and that there are various instances of her caring about Chat Noir and trying to make him feel more important. I see the point you were making and I honestly also see that Chat Noir's writing played a huge part in Ladybug acting like she did on certain situations, however I also often think about Season 4 ending. Ladybug is having a break down and she says that she distanced Chat Noir on purpose. I honestly think this is one more proof the writers didn't know what they were doing with the plotline, especially since Ladybug herself in Kuro Neko says she never realized. But as she is saying she was aware, instead, wouldn't it go against her not being aware? I guess probably my ask is more like a reinforcement of the writers having no idea about how to handle the plotline, and not a real comparison of views since we really see the series saying opposite things at the same time. But I kinda wanted to see what you thought about the idea of Ladybug/Marinette being written instead as aware of the distance she put and the lack of guilt in this circumstance. (At least, I didn't see any if this was what the writers were going for)

Like, taking Hack-san. She did a very long list for Alya on how to do stuff and collaborate to Chat Noir, even laugh at his jokes, and maybe it was shown to prove she does care, but at the same time she... never warned him she was leaving? I get she was in a rush but going to the bathroom for a 1 second call would show her consideration over the topic. At the end of the episode, she apologizes for revealing her identity but not for never warning him, not showing up to patrols without telling him... and when he opens up about his fear of losing her without having the chance to know something happened, there isn't some sort of solution offered? I know that the show's writing never really wanted to portray Chat Noir on an equal basis, but maybe it would be the right chance for her to show him she does trust and considers him an equal. Maybe telling him he can say the truth to someone so they both have someone to warn the other if something happens, or so that they're not surprised by new holders if one didn't tell about needing to step away from action. Sorry the rambling! I just think that the writers really made a mess in trying to show she cares but never in the actual things she could really show it, like by simply including him in crucial info like Rena Furtive. Like, we get confirmation she doesn't sees him as equal anymore in the first part of the season 4 finale, but he was once his supposed equal? Or was meant to? So does she effectively put a willing distance between them? I also think often about Ephemeral, because I get that they want to write quirky Ladybug that exaggerates in her plans but making Chat Noir reveal his identity to someone else without his knowledge by aknowledging also his crush as a way to get him to reveal... feels like a huge manipulation that I think wouldn't be necessary if they wanted to show she cares genuinely? Like, she could just ask him and explain the situation? Like, for the purpose of creating the drama, the writers forgot that at that point their bond should be solid enough for something at least as basic as communication? I guess my point after all this, is that while I get where you come from when saying she wasn't aware of how Chat was feeling and some stuff she has done, I feel like she definitely should have in certain situations? Especially because in many instances it feels that the writers were indeed holding true to her putting willingly distance and excluding him, and never really feeling guilty. I don't know, maybe I'm casually rambling nonsense, but I really would like to hear your view about this!

I completely understand where you're coming from. My seasons four rant was about the way canon chose to portray Marinette's awareness of the situation, not about how valid her obliviousness was for her character. I think some of it makes sense, but there are also a lot of moments that feel like poor characterization. Hack-San is a perfect example. The season literally opens with Chat Noir leaving Ladybug messages on her bug phone, establishing that this is a thing that they can do:

Scene: Ladybug yoyos to Montparnasse Tower. She sees Mr. Pigeon and checks her voicemail. Cat Noir: (on voicemail) Hey you, Bugaboo! Well, here I am, your faithful companion at our rendezvous point just like always. It's time for our daily patrol, I hope you haven't forgotten!

I don't think we'd ever seen this before. It feels like an element they're adding to set up for something later. And yet, when the time comes to use it, we get nothing. Marinette just leaves town without even thinking about warning Chat Noir. Which makes no sense when you remember that this is all happening after the New York special where Marinette took time to tell Chat Noir that she was going out of town:

Cat Noir: You're going away?! Ladybug: Only for a few days. It's nothing important, kitty-cat! But I can't tell you anymore, in- Cat Noir: In order to protect our secret identities. I know the drill, M'Lady. Ladybug: But in case, anything happens in Paris, an akumatized villain, a Sentimonster, anything... All you have to do is click here and I'll come back as fast as I can. For emergencies only, of course! (Cat Noir presses the remote button several times in excitement, making the toy in Ladybug's hand squeak)

The New York special also saw Chat Noir fail to tell Ladybug that he was leaving town, leading to Paris being defenseless during a sentimonster attack!

Everything about the New York special should logically lead to the heroes having a hard rule about informing each other when they're leaving town. And yet, that rule apparently doesn't exist. Why not?

The only logical reason is that the writers wanted to have Chat Noir attack Scarabella when he sees her for the first time, so Marinette had to keep him in the dark otherwise that scene wouldn't work. Her bad behavior was done for the gag, not because it made sense for her character.

This is why I can get so defensive of the characters. It is, as always, not a matter of defending their specific actions. It's more about looking at the broad story and getting upset at how inconsistently they've been portrayed. The writers don't seem to care about honoring personality traits they've established, honoring past events, or even just logically setting up their supposed plots! The characters will do or say whatever is needed to make a given episode work regardless of how out of character those actions are or how little sense it all makes.

The season four ending rant is another great example:

Ladybug: Why don't you just give up on me? I've lost ALL the Miraculous! I'm the worst Guardian EVER! I wanted to control everything, I didn't listen to you, I lied to you, I kept you at a distance! Every time you offered me a helping hand, I never took it! I really made a mess of EVERYTHING! (continues sobbing)

This rant backs up a lot of people's feelings about the season four conflict, but it doesn't back up the way the season four conflict was actually written. Let's ignore the stuff that focuses on Ladybug's actions for a moment and instead focus on this line about Chat Noir's actions

Every time you offered me a helping hand, I never took it!

When exactly did he do this? Might I remind you, season four opened with this:

Ladybug: Will you cut it out with the practical jokes? I could have really hurt you! Cat Noir:(answering while hanging by the yo-yo) M'lady, the only thing that really hurts me is when you make me go on patrol by myself. (sighs, relaxing his posture) I even missed your little angry pout. Ladybug: Sorry, Kitty Cat, I'm a bit over my head at the moment. (pulling him up) Cat Noir: I bet! "Guardian of the Miraculous", big name, big responsibility! Ladybug:(helping him up) I promise, I won't ever forget our patrols again. (Cat Noir winks at her, both head to defeat the villain) Cat Noir: Woohoo!

And this:

Truth: Cat Noir, tell me what- (interrupted by Ladybug throwing a present at Truth) Ladybug: (covering her parasol with foil) ...do you think about my new role as guardian! Cat Noir: If it doesn't change things between us, then I'm good with it!

Ah, yes, he's really stepping up here and offering to help her! What a wonderful partner! If only Ladybug had taken the help he offered here, then things would have been so much better!

To be clear, I'm not actually mad at Chat Noir for these moments, they just really highlight how bad the writing is. The opening episodes of a season should be the setup for the season conflict. In this example, Chat Noir should have been constantly asking to take on more responsibility. Instead, the season opens with him telling Ladybug to maintain their status quo, which she then does, and yet that's somehow a problem?

Since season two, the status quo has been that Ladybug knows everything while Chat Noir is kept in the dark and just shows up for fights. I think that was a terrible choice, but it's still what canon went with! The Chat-Noir-feels-left-out conflict isn't even new. It was already addressed back in Syren:

Cat Noir: This is so dumb! (stands up) Claws in. (detransforms) Plagg: (groans) What's taking her so long? (Adrien holds up his hands to Plagg, and starts to pull off his ring a little bit) Whoa, easy! W-What are you doing?! Adrien: (grimly) If you don't tell me what Ladybug is hiding from me, I'm done! Plagg: You can't do that! Adrien: (bitterly) Why not? No one'll know if I quit. No one'll care! Plagg: I will! Adrien: Why? (cynically) Because you won't have anyone to give you Camembert? Plagg: Oh, I'm sure there'll be another Cat Noir to give me cheese... (pauses, and turns to Adrien) ...but he won't be you. (Adrien's expression softens) Master Fu: (suddenly appears next to Adrien) Hello, Cat Noir. (Adrien turns and gasps in shock) Adrien: You! You're the man who— Master Fu: (holds up a vial of bright green potion) I'll explain everything, I promise. But right now, you must go and help Ladybug! (He gives the vial to Adrien and he takes it)

This episode ends with Master Fu visiting Adrien and, after that, this conflict seems to go away in favor of Chat Noir wanting a romantic relationship. Bringing the Chat-Noir-feels-left-out conflict back in season four is extra annoying to me because what even was the point of Syren then? What did Adrien and Master Fu even talk about? Why wasn't it enough? And if Chat Noir has always wanted more responsibility, then why didn't he take Ladybug's guardian promotion as an opportunity to ask for more responsibility? Why wasn't season four filled with instances of Chat Noir trying to step up only to have Ladybug reject him? Why are the writers completely failing to write the conflict they claim to be writing?

You can find lots of little moments to back up the idea that Ladybug should have done better in season four. The issue isn't that they're not there. The issue is that the writing completely fails to make them feel like informed choices. Things Marinette did knowing that this was a bad call or even just a good call that would also hurt Chat Noir. Instead, she's always portrayed as oblivious to the problems her actions might cause which makes it real hard for me to get mad at her.

For example, I personally think it was asinine that Marinette told Alya everything. Not because I don't like Alya, but because Alya's identity had just been revealed to the supervillain! In my book, that's an instant disqualification for being given privileged information. Logically speaking, that is the identity reveal that should have lead to bad things. Instead, for some reason, Alya telling Nino was the problem.

To add an extra layer of annoyance, when Chat Noir learns that Ladybug has told someone her identity, he isn't even mad about it! He doesn't ask for a similar free pass or ask why not him. We get nothing to paint this as Marinette making a wrong move or as her "pushing him away" like she'll claim she did in the final. Instead, we just get Chat Noir saying that he's sad that Ladybug could quit and he'd never see her again:

Ladybug: I'm really sorry, Cat Noir. I should've told you. I mean, if I found out that you told someone about your secret identity, I'd... probably be upset, too. I'm really sorry I hurt your feelings. Cat Noir: You didn't hurt my feelings. You did everything right. Paris will always need a Ladybug superhero to watch over her. It's just... I realized that if one day that hero wasn't you, m'lady, since we don't know each other's identities, that means... I'd never see you again. Ever. And now, I just don't know if I can bear it. Ladybug: I'll never abandon you, kitty cat. (smiles)

The writers of Miraculous ask you to please forget about this exchange while watching the Kwamis Choice two-part episode in which both Chat Noir and Ladybug quit without saying goodbye to each other and where they also never feel guilty about or apologize for that choice. Heck, don't even think about this during Kuro Neko which comes a mere seven episodes later and features Chat Noir quitting without saying goodbye or finding a replacement. Rules for thee and not for me, my Lady?

Once again, I'm not actually mad at Adrien for that, it's just a wild choice to have him make when he claims that never seeing Ladybug again would be something he couldn't bear. That's not a good setup for him quitting and the seven episodes between these two don't tell a story that makes his change in attitude work. Kuro Neko is episode 23 and episode 21 - Dearest Family - has this as its ending, showing Ladynoir having no problems:

Cat Noir: (grabs a golden paper crown on the coffee table) Since I'm the king, would you be my queen, Ladybug? Ladybug: With pleasure, kitty cat! Tradition is tradition! (Cat Noir puts on the paper crown lucky charm on Ladybug.) Ladybug and Cat Noir: Pound it!

And episode 22 - Ephemeral - has Adrien thinking that missing a battle is a big deal:

Adrien: I hope Ladybug didn't need me. Plagg, claws out! (transforms into Cat Noir) (He opens his cat phone.) Cat Noir: Fourteen messages? She must be furious. (calls Ladybug) Ladybug: (on the phone) Finally! Cat Noir: I know what you're about to say, Ladybug, but— Ladybug: (on the phone) Nevermind! We got through it. That's all that matters. But we do need to talk. Meet me at the top of the Eiffel Tower.

Making it really weird when he goes on to purposely skip battles in Kuro Neko. That might have worked if he was hurt when Ladybug wasn't upset in Ephemeral, but he's not. If anything, he's relieved making it really weird when he's upset about the team in the next freaking episodes!

Cat Noir: (upon landing on top of the Eiffel Tower) I'm sorry, but I really couldn't make it earlier. Ladybug: (waves) Hey, no big deal! That's the good thing about a team. It's not the two of us anymore! Cat Noir: Oh, yeah! So then, why did you need me exactly?

There's also the fact that neither of these two episodes see Chat Noir try to take on a bigger role in the team. He seems fine with his lot so it's once again really weird when Kuro Neko has him quitting after Ladybug doesn't immediately give him more responsibility. In fact, I think Kuro Neko might actually be the only episode in the season where he asks for more responsibility, meaning that he quits after being turned down once. (If there are other times, let me know in the comments or a reblog! Everything I could think of was him complaining to Plagg, but telling Ladybug nothing which is not how you write a good conflict. It's how you write Marinette being held to a totally unreasonable standard.)

I could go on for days listing examples like this. Nino, Adrien, Marinette, Alya, Gabriel, Sabine, and many others have moments I can do this with. Moments where I pull up an episode that establishes A only to follow it with a later episode that completely ignores A without any real logic to back the change. It's infuriating and is, once again, why I defend the characters so much. Your annoyance is totally valid, I just ask you to look at the big picture and see that this is a systemic issue that effects everyone, making it really hard for me to hold any character accountable for their worst actions because then if have to do it for all of them and that's just not fun. I often hate the same things that the character-specific salters hate and understand the resulting salt, I just can't get in on the salt because it's so obviously a writing issue and not an carefully crafted character beat.

As an example, I recently saw someone get mad at Marinette for not planning around someone getting her yo-yo even though she took the time to plan around the Kwamis getting lost and it's just like, my dear, that is what we call a plot hole or poor characterization. She is a fictional character. This was not an actual planning failure. This was the writers needing her to lose so they warped the rules and her character to make her fail. She is not allowed to make logical plans if the writers need her to lose just like Alya can only be observant when the writers want the plot to progress. Get a little perspective.

(Note I'm using "you" as a general term and not speaking directly to anyone)

#anon ask #ml writing critical #ml writing salt #marinette deserves better #adrien deserves better #If this doesn't address your question feel free to clarify! There was a lot there so I may have missed the point

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unordinary-diary · 6 months ago

Text

Blyke and John: Parallel Characters

I’ve written multiple entries about this,

[x] [x] [x]

But I’m back to make a comprehensive analysis about the glaring similarities between these two. I’ll try not to repeat myself here.

‼️SPOILER WARNING for the whole series‼️ but this mostly focuses on the story before John’s suspension.

Firstly, this scene:

ch. 121

This conversation takes place near the beginning of the Joker arc. It’s after John targets Zeke, after he targets Juni, and the day before he goes after Seraphina’s kidnappers. The timing is important.

“If someone hit your best friend, would you let it slide?”

That question is supposed to remind us what John does to people who hurt Seraphina: hunting them down and sending them to the hospital. Blyke shooting a destructive beam really close to John was an example of a trait they share: they both blow up violently when people mistreat their friends.

John’s downward spiral carries strong themes of hypocrisy. He’s angry at the world, he’s angry at himself, and as a coping mechanism, he chooses to believe that everyone else is as bad as he is. That means that most of the traits he hates others for are the same things he hates about himself. In this scene, Blyke is unintentionally calling out this hypocrisy: “What I did is no different from what you do”.

But Blyke’s just trying to connect with John here, he has no idea what John’s been doing. And John, of course, doesn’t give a shit about what Blyke has to say. This line was here for the audience to notice.

They’re both so similar, but their similarity immediately causes tension between them because, well, John was on the wrong end of Blyke’s protectiveness.

I really love the way this was written— there are so many flashbacks to this scene, but they remember it differently. John remembers the part that hurt him— he’d describe it as “the time that jackass shot a beam at me”. Blyke remembers the part that hurt him, or rather, hurt Remi: “the time that jackass hit Remi for no reason”.

Blyke and John are both hotheaded characters with strong ideals. They’re similar enough that Seraphina points it out:

(ch. 80)

As Blyke grows as a character, he becomes more like John: sticking up for low tiers and speaking out against the injustice in the world. But while Blyke is doing that more, John is going in the opposite direction, until they are fully opposed to each other.

Speaking of Blyke’s character arc, it took me a few rereads to actually understand what part of him changed. His kindness, selflessness, bravery— all of those things were there from the start. Blyke’s character arc was about becoming more aware of his surroundings, and how his carelessness can harm others. Blyke was never malicious, but after X-Rei and integrating more with the school, he becomes aware of people suffering around him and how he unintentionally contributes to it. He becomes less reckless, privy to the flaws in the system he grew up not questioning, and uses his power more responsibly. He even comes up with a more controlled way to wield his ability. The part of Blyke that changes is his maturity.

Part of John’s character arc is also about being careful. It’s not as close of a parallel as other things are, but one of the things that John works on during his redemption arc is holding back. Both of them learn self-control throughout the series, and for John, that means acting early before his emotions spiral out of hand.

Adding onto my first point about the two of them wanting to protect their friends— the fact that they can’t do that makes them both angry and desperate. For most of the story, the “block” that prevents John from protecting Seraphina is in his head. It’s his own trauma that holds him back. The block that prevents Blyke from protecting his friends is, guess what? Also John’s trauma! Parallels abound.

Another thing I noticed in Episode 80 is this:

Notice that when Seraphina says “I’d take that over strength any day,” John is looking at the camera. He’s avoiding Sera’s gaze. Seraphina is saying she prefers honesty over strength. John is very strong, and very dishonest, but Seraphina thinks the opposite because John is so dishonest. John appears to be reflecting on this disconnect.

In relation to this analysis, Seraphina is actually pointing out a major difference between Blyke and John. Beyond that, she’s praising Blyke’s traits, (less strong but very open) above John’s traits, (strong as fuck but a liar with his pants on fire). Furthermore, John really cares what Seraphina thinks of him. Knowing that she would think less of him is the main reason why he spent so much time and effort preventing her from catching his lies.

This leads into my main point here: Blyke is the “goody-two-shoes” version of John. Or, more accurately, the person that John wants to be. Blyke has a clean track record and doesn’t really get into trouble. He is respected and left alone by the school without being hated and feared, he de-escalates conflicts without taking things too far, he doesn’t lose control, he’s someone Seraphina thinks highly of, hell, even his grades are better! Blyke represents everything that John wants to be, and the person that he could have been if he’d gone down a different path.

But, crucially, John is also what Blyke wants to be. Well, not wholly, but his ability? His strength? It’s one of the things John hates about himself, but Blyke wants that strength so desperately that he risks his life for it over and over again.

They’re both desperate to be like each other, even when they hate each other the most. Neither of them have any idea how alike they already are.

I don’t know what Season 3 holds in store for us, but I do hope that John realizes that Blyke embodies who he wants to be, because mutual jealousy would be a very interesting dynamic to explore in my opinion. I also hope that it ends up being something they can bond over, by helping each other accomplish their personal goals. (Blyke being another helper in John’s character arc, and John helping Blyke train.)

A side note: John beat up Blyke four separate times. That’s more than any other character, which is interesting because John’s main rival is supposed to be Arlo. For reference, John has beaten Arlo twice, three times if you count the time when Seraphina intervened, and he only beat him unconscious once. But John beat Blyke to the point of passing out all four times, the worst of which being a shot clean through his chest. (shoulder? Unclear. S1 finale).

It’s odd, isn’t it? Out of everyone, Blyke is the one who John physically hurt the most. John’s only grudge against him is an old memory from episode 33, of an event that didn’t actually harm him. John’s grudge against Arlo is much more serious and again— that’s his main rival. So why is it that he’s so much more violent towards Blyke?

The problem here is that I’ve been thinking about these fights as “John picking on Blyke”. And that’s… kind of true? But while Blyke didn’t start any of these fights, they were all consensual in a way. He didn’t seek to fight John, nor was he ever happy about fighting John, but he was always a willing participant.

(138, 153, 206, & 211)

In three out of these four fights, John didn’t even expect to be fighting Blyke going into it. This is significant because while Arlo is John’s main rival, John absolutely fills that role for Blyke. Blyke’s own agency is what leads to most of these events. The reason, narratively speaking, why they fight so much is not for John’s character, but for Blyke.

For John, his reason for fighting Blyke so much is not narrative but moreso symbolic. John is angry at everyone and everything, but ultimately the person he hates the most is himself. It’s only fitting that the character most like him would bear the brunt of his wrath.

As John is having his positive character arc (suspension and post-suspension), he is becoming more like Blyke, and the two of them reach a point where they’re even more similar than they were at the start of the series.

In the Rowden amusement park, John does start to realize how similar they are:

(249)

Additionally, I want to draw your attention to the parallels between this scene:

Blyke and John’s argument in chapter 249

(which the image limit won’t let me add, scroll until you see red hair.)

And this scene:

Argument in ch. 121 (it’s at the beginning)

Two sides of the same coin.

Furthermore, in the S2 finale, Blyke is shown being taken to Keon. There is an implication that by Season 3, Blyke and John will share Keon-related trauma as well. Despite my pessimistic predictions, I do hope that this is a similarity that can bring them together rather than tear them apart.

#unordinary #I had another point that i had to cut #because it was about the john slaps remi scene #and how like blyke knew he wasn’t gonna miss and hit john by accident but john doesn’t necessarily know that #and that john assumes the worst (blyke was aiming for his head) bc he’s mad #and blyke also assumes the worst (that john hit remi for no reason). But when i was looking for screenshots to back it up #and i was looking for the one panel where john referred to blyke as “that idiotic redhead who tried to blow my brains out”#as proof of john assuming the worst #But then i found it and it doesn’t even say what i thought it said #it says “THREATENED to blow my brains out”#Smh john didn’t even assume the worst. He knew it was jyst a threatening shot even thogh he was mad #And then my whole thing kinda falls apart because blyke assuming the worst is actually just the logical conclusion since he can’t read mind #Like how was he gonna know john was having trauma issues #Yargh okay so i think i cut all the parts that don’t really make sense but it’s late so this is a low quality proofread #Gonna be honest this is NOT structured very well #Theres more to be said about john hating other people for the same reasons he hates himself #and I didn’t quite hit it #but it’s lateeeeeee #something about how Blyke is so similar to john but lacks most of what John hates about himself so John projects his insecurities—#back onto him anyway #Something about in ch 249 when he says something something “because I couldn’t cope with the fact that you guys weren’t actually bad people #Yeah idk im too tired to get into it #blyke unordinary #john unordinary #oh also has something to do with when john says “i may have deserved those classes but they sure as hell don’t” about keon #i think that’s significant #analysis #i have a bad feeling that someone in my notes is gonna purposely misinterpret my “goody two shoes” blyke statement ngl #”did you say that blyke is perfect and john is evil”#like something like that

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nylloth · 23 hours ago

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First of all, you're talking about a very specific political critique, while most of the actual criticism has nothing to do with that.

Personally, I know very little about American politics, so I’ve never criticized the show on that basis. The show has its own internal city politics, which were established in the official game lore. I know the official lore, which is why my expectations for this aspect were completely different. This has nothing to do with the real world.

Secondly, my main criticism is about the writing. Arcane didn’t win its writing award.

Here’s what I’m criticizing: the characters have forgotten their own motivations from Season 1. Viktor’s arc is a blatant retcon—his motivation was death, not disease. The show always tackled social issues and inequality, but in Season 2, those themes were erased. The dialogue was drastically reduced. The creators chose the "show through animation, don’t tell" approach, but you can’t use it in every situation—otherwise, we’re just left staring at Caitlyn’s microexpressions. Vi’s dialogue was cut by 60% compared to Season 1. That’s not how good storytelling works.

Is it because of the episode count? No, because Season 1 managed it just fine. Instead, the writers crammed in too many music video sequences, which anyone can interpret however they want, and which often fail to convey the characters' thoughts and relationships.

The pacing is breakneck, making serious decisions feel unearned—especially Viktor’s, which change every five seconds. He becomes a god and loses faith in his vision all in one day.

Jinx’s "revolution" basically didn’t happen.

Pacifist Viktor suddenly decides to team up with Ambessa and considers it the right choice. And Ambessa, a brilliant warrior and strategist (as established in Act 1), agrees to a highly questionable alliance with someone she can't control.

The weapons conflict between Viktor and Jayce, which was a major theme in Season 1, is completely dropped. Why? Because Jayce fell into a pit and broke his leg. As if that somehow helps him understand Viktor, who lived with a disease, was dying from it, and was part of the lower class that no one cared about.

The core dynamics of the show—family relationships and social inequality—shifted to a Marvel-style formula with lots of action and a big bad villain.

See? It’s not about real-world politics. It’s about how it was written.

Moving away from writing: Viktor’s original lore was far more complex and morally engaging. He was never purely evil or just a victim of magical manipulation. Turning him into an "evil god" is an incredibly dull choice. Of course, you might not know this if you haven’t read the original lore.

Caitlyn poisoning the city? Completely brushed aside.

We have two "women in freezer"—Sky and Isha. This is one of the worst, most lazy, and disgusting writing choices. Cheap, especially for Sky, who was already treated this way in Season 1.

Viktor’s time loop raises countless unanswered questions.

Episode 207 is pure fanfiction, eating up screen time for the sake of the Time Bomb ship. It serves no narrative purpose. We don’t even see how Ekko talked Jinx out of suicide. Why? Because it happens off-screen. And ask yourself—why is it off-screen? Because the writers had no actual dialogue for that moment.

Now the most interesting part. I watched the leaks. Dialogues were rewritten and cut at the last moment! This means the writing was incredibly raw. They were re-recording lines just months before release. Sevika’s lines were cut from the final episodes.

And while I can accept Act 1 with all its flaws, Act 3 is a disaster.

As a standalone Marvel-style show? Maybe 8/10. But as Arcane’s second season—compared to Season 1’s writing, storytelling, themes, and character arcs—it’s really bad.

I feel sorry that so many of you aren’t trying to analyze these issues. That you think slowing the show down and staring at the characters’ facial expressions is the right way to understand their shifting motivations. I feel sorry that you don’t see the obvious difference between Season 1 and Season 2. But it’s there. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be so much criticism. And that criticism has nothing to do with real-world politics.

The first season never received this much criticism and for good reason. It was simply better written.

People don't understand that we criticize s2 because we genuinely love s1 and we were disappointed. basically what speaks to us is the grief of losing potential or “what could it be…” it's not the same as being a hater

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sysig · 27 days ago

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Cards 👏 cards 👏 cards 👏 (Patreon)

#Doodles #Osmosis Jones #Damned #Ozzy #Drix #Thrax #You may remember my DAX card - cough - and also my Stanley card! Also cough huh actually lol #Stanley's looked much more like this tho #Which would be because they're all part of the same printed set!#I actually have another like dozen-ish of these #Might show 'em off in the end-of-year roundup 👀 But for now it's just these guys! The sillies!#In very legible ink lol - I can read it and they're my notes so that's the important bit #I think Thrax's last name would actually be ''Roja'' tho so that's on me #Also why is Drix called Drixenol when his full first name is Drixobenzometaphendramine - where's the L come from #I've been Jonesing - pun intended - to fill out Ozzy's ''personality'' section for aaaggesss #I keep trying to pick at a scene with him and it's just not turning out! Need an easy-overview of his traits and features lol #I did actually have a new idea after making these so I think I was onto something lol #He has a very fun character type ♪ He's oddly socially aware for how annoying he can be! He does it on purpose!!#Drix is the exact opposite so they're great contrasts to each other hehe <3 Drix Tries to be helpful and fumbles it but he's so earnest!#Also finally got me decided on their room placements - so much easier to coordinate them at Night with that square #They don't have roommates Yet but based on who was inhabiting which rooms originally....o3o It's an idea isn't it hmmm #I went and read Thrax's description on one of his wiki pages as well and he was described as ''Cold'' and I was like uhm???#Like yes he does kill in cold-blood - he's pretty unflinching and indiscriminate with what and who he aims his fire power at #But with his hot-headed attitude and overall heat aesthetic I have a difficult time calling him Cold exactly - cool for sure! Haha #But yeah I dunno about that - he's also a nerd which I find very fun haha sets up a powerpoint presentation for his thugs #And just ends up doing the main bit himself anyway! He just likes to talk about his plans hehehe #It really is double-fun to have them all from different points in their timelines ahh ♪ Who and what they know so fun to play in #The secret-keeping and surprises are my favourite part! Mismatch and uncertainty! Love that #I also had a lot of fun with their background splashes :) Ozzy gets blue cells - Drix gets his pills and some fizzles #And Thrax's cell-destroying fire and flames were stylized so cool! Also has a bit of a pollen look as well! I enjoy

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raayllum · 1 year ago

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also cause I'm not there yet in my 5x08 liveblog but because even just a whiff of "Callum gave Finnegrin the spell" made the fandom troll come running into my inbox to say otherwise, just wanna clear up a few things for peace of mind before we get there

The first is that I know it was the fandom troll because of the timing & presentation, not necessarily because the now deleted/blocked ask had the "Callum purposefully gave Finnegrin the wrong spell" take. While that was an indication to me that this was probably the fandom troll since they seem to take issue with my characterization of Callum in particular, perfectly smart reasonable people have also proposed that possibility of the spell ingredients being not entirely accurate as purposeful; it's not exclusive to crappy people by any measure.

With all that in mind, I want to discuss how I view the scene (and indeed how I think it's meant to be interpreted per a casual viewer reading) as well as why I think Callum giving Finnegrin a not word-for-word accurate actually kind of makes his choice more morally questionable, not less

So let's begin

1) I don't think the scene's intended takeaway is that Callum gave Finnegrin the wrong spell

I think Callum panicked, and he folded, and he would've told Finnegrin anything the pirate had asked for in that moment to try and spare Rayla's life. While TDP is an immensely detailed show in many ways (hell I have a tag dedicated to just those details), every scene still has to ultimately work for a casual viewer. I don't think this scene is any exception. One of the first things in the series that we learn is that humans took down the King of the Dragons with dark magic and it's a repeated fact throughout most of the first season, and into the third when we see the events that transpired exactly.

So when Finnegrin mentions it, we're probably going to remember that was a thing that happened and it involved Harrow and Viren, but we're probably not going to remember the specific ingredients. Therefore, like Finnegrin, most audience members are going to take Callum at his word, especially since throughout most of his conversation with Finnegrin, Callum is arguably far more honest than he needs to be (fessing up that he did dark magic at all, mentioning that he studies all the primals, that he did the spell to save a friend at all - which is exactly why Finnegrin sets him the hand cutting test to try and break him, etc). The scene - again, for the audience's benefit - even as Callum clarify for those that wouldn't remember why he was spouting things about dying breaths and unicorn horns, because again, I do think this is the Intended Takeaway:

Part of the reason I think Callum panicked (other than Jack de Sena's wonderful voice acting and uneven breaths) is because, if Callum was thinking clearly enough to withhold information purposefully, he could've considered 1) that Finnegrin is bluffing about threatening Rayla (Callum cannot see her or any of the others, so that could be the case) and 2) Finnegrin would have limited means to know that Callum was lying if Callum said exclusively the wrong ingredients and sent him on a wild goose chase. To give as much as he did accurately was dangerous (but we'll talk more about that in a second).

We also know from instances in the previous seasons and just the prior episode that Callum doesn't have all sky spells (ones that he can do whenever he wants basically) memorized either, and that it's not out of the realm of possibility that Viren would've fudged a little to Harrow about some components of the spell (such as emphasizing love and hatred) because he was actively trying to convince - somewhat guilt-trip and manipulate - Harrow into doing something didn't really want to do, but ultimately couldn't say no to.

However, one of the things that's the most fun meta is reading into things deeply, looking at various character interpretations, and seeing what we can find below the surface level / casual viewership read. Just because something may not be the 'intended takeaway' (which can already be hard to define) doesn't mean it's not a real possibility, especially if enough dots connect, and doesn't mean it's not worthwhile and or without merit.

So let's look at the scene from the assumption that Callum is giving Finnegrin a not totally accurate spell On Purpose - what does he omit, what does that tell us, and where does that leave us from a character standpoint?

2) Haha, jk, unless...?

First things first, let's look at what Callum says vs what Viren says

No, no, wait! A dying breath. Blood filled with hatred. And a unicorn horn. That's the dark magic you want.

In her final moments, I captured something that I hoped we could use later. It contains her dying breath. [...] Claudia captured a unicorn and brought me its horn. The dying breath. The unicorn's pure horn. There's one last component I need. The undying hatred of one who loved the victim. Your blood.

Now, even Viren's stance and the circumstances of the spell isn't entirely clear. We don't know if any dying breath would do, or if it had to be Sarai's (and had to go her killer, as opposed to someone else). We don't know if the spell requires the unicorn's horn to be 'pure' (I'm assuming not already corrupted somehow with dark magic) or if it would work regardless. And we don't know whether the hatred or love is more important, or just one, or if they're equally important. It's quite a list, after all.

Which is why I think in some ways Callum's lack of specificity actually makes what Callum told Finnegrin more dangerous, whether you read the minor omissions as intentional or not.

Cause think of it this way, you're a pirate lord and you want to kill your enemy. You heard from this mage kid that any dying breath would do. What's your next move going to be? You're probably going to murder a random member of your crew and collect the breath because you were never told it had to be your loved one's final breath (which would make the spell impossible).

So that's one murder down, bare minimum. Then you're going to either send people out or word that you're looking for a unicorn horn at a port where people already canonically smuggle dark magic supplies (Chasing Shadows, TDP reflection). This will either lead to you hiring people to eliminate one of the - it appears to be - few remaining unicorns that still exist to bring you the horn, or if you've put out a reward, multiple dark mages / mercenaries may try their hand at killing one and bringing the horn to you. That's probably 1-5 unicorn murders as a result, if the mages are working not in communication with each other and all vying for the reward. This is also assuming that none of the mercenaries or mages come back empty handed and get harmed or killed because of Finnegrin's anger at their failures.

You also might torment and torture someone else to get them to hate you before you drain them of blood / take their blood for the spell, again not realizing that 'love' has to be a facet of it. At best, that would maybe be what you do to the crew member before you kill them for their final breath.

Then, once he has all the ingredients (and he'd need some sort of incantation, because dark magic is a lot of steps and processes) there's two main avenues.

Either these all work and he successfully has his weapon of vengeance needed to kill Domina Profundis, because what was given was enough. This would mean Callum's actions led to about 2-3 successful murders of mostly innocent people and possibly more political upheaval at the death of another archdragon (the ocean would certainly be out of whack, but it's not clear how much, if any, political power Domina still holds).

It doesn't work and Finnegrin, stubborn as he is about control and loathe to admit he can't commandeer something (magic and wills included), figures that something went wrong and tries again, having to collect the ingredients all over again. Depending on how many times he'd try (I feel like maybe 2-3 max), this could put those murders up to maybe nine innocent individuals, assuming Finnegrin's worsening temper over his failures doesn't increase the tally.

Rattling off the accurate spell ingredients could've actually minimized the damage, because any of the specifics might've stopped Finnegrin in his tracks. If Finnegrin just needed hatred of one who loved the victim, he could've fulfilled that on his own with some of his own blood ("I loved that crab" and her definitely hates Domina Profundis). The one that could've entirely halted his plan is if the dying breath had to come from the victim, in which case the chance to avenge his beloved crab is long gone. Finnegrin could've heard the list of very specific ingredients, deduced that he would not be capable of carrying out the spell, and been on his merry way to use Rayla as revenge fish bait.

But by giving Finnegrin an 'imperfect' list, Callum made the pirate captain more likely to engage in the violence required to get there, without an actual textual guarantee to the audience that what was given wouldn't have worked, either (aka we have two ingredients list and without a third to tip the scales, it'll always be a technical 50-50, maybe 60-40 read in favour of Viren).

So where does that leave us?

With these two readings in mind, you have two options:

Callum is willing to sacrifice Domina Profundis', and a few unnamed innocent lives/creatures, to save Rayla and thereby gave Finnegrin a dangerous in its own way, if not more dangerous because of potential increased collateral damage, list of spell ingredients, because he acted entirely out of emotionally fuelled panic where he wasn't totally thinking clearly

Callum is willing to sacrifice unnamed innocent lives and creatures, but not Domina Profundis', in order save Rayla, because he decided on purpose to give Finnegrin a more achievable sounding list of ingredients that would increase collateral damage, but not let him kill the dragon, because he made a calculated decision on purpose that those lives were worth less than Rayla's and Domina's to him (for some reason, as she's a stranger to him)

To be clear, I would love the second option as an interpretation because I do think Callum can be calculating and I do think that's the far more Viren-like option - choosing what to sacrifice for other people in the mindset of harm mitigation ("A thousand men and women are prepared to fall protecting you tonight, but you won't let one sacrifice their lives for you?" / "If you must choose, choose the egg").

But again, given the framing of the scene I think the first reading is 1) more sympathetic and speaks to Callum's more compassionate emotional nature and 2) is the intended takeaway, but if people want to read it as Callum strategically deciding that certain lives - other than Rayla's - were worth sacrificing that so she and Domina Profundis wouldn't be killed, that is absolutely a valid prerogative.

It's just not mine

#tdp #the dragon prince #mini meta #analysis series #5x08 #s5 #arc 2 #analysis #dark magic #tdp callum #tdp meta #callum #like at most if you do the purposeful read he spared domina #but that just means he still threw under strangers under the bus #and decided this one stranger meant enough he'd send finnegrin on a wild goose chase #which is valid! of course he doesn't want to cause more harm to more people than he has to #but if you read it as on purpose i do think that's actually making him far more calculated / selectively loyalty #than he already is #& saved the ask just in case it's insinuated for some reason that i am lying (just i would not put that above ppl)

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ccbatman · 8 months ago

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actually so evil how much of hal's internal world gets obliterated with the rewriting of his relationships with jessica and martin.

#hal jordan #empyrean posting #ok going in the tags because im not actually v confident in my understanding of his character. i read all of his 80s/90s stuff but forgot #90% of it but ANYWAY.#so much of him just does not make sense with how geoff johns characterises him and his relationships with his parents particularly the #parallax stuff simply because of how much his relationship with the guardians and their apathy/'betrayal' is influenced by hal's original #relationship with his dad. like at its heart it's pretty much the same dynamic in how hal blindly trusts and sort of idolises the guardians #despite their repeated infractions in hope of... something in return just as he had with his father and the abuse he suffered at martin's #hands. that's what makes his anger at the guardians make sense when it does show itself because the relationship parallel didn't stop there.#as with martin hal gets nothing for his devotion. he gets nothing for doing everything that's asked of him and more and it ends the same way #too: with a man in the sky burning like a newborn star. and you lose so much of that nuance and intrigue behind that if you just make #jessica the 'bad one' because!!! you cheapen it!!!!#the whole idea of hal is that he has his father's face but his mother's scars #(to me). in the sense that they both reacted to martin the same way with that cognisance of who he was as a man yet inability to pull away #because... love. both the love they had for him and the conviction that he did or could love them too. and jessica arguably did eventually #but also she didnt did she? because she held onto that notion of love till the very end. the few scraps she had she ballooned outwards until #they became the whole. but hal didnt have even that and he spent his whole life chasing it & running away from wanting it at the same time #like i think there's something so interesting to the fact that he had to be convinced that flying was what he wanted to do. how much of that #was touched by his father? the fear that he was already too much like him than he could bear to be? he already had his face now he had his #dreams and longing for the sky. how much more could he have before he began repeating the cycle?#and at the end he even had his father's death. burning in the clouds. like there's so much there and that's not even touching on how it #impacts his relationships with other heroes. not just in the sense of why did kyle clark and diana get to keep their close yet complex #relationships with their moms when hal had to lose his (although yeah why did they) but also just how he lets himself come across to them.#because it's on purpose right? that he lets them think his reflection of his father is born out of unadulterated love for a man worthy of it #? he has his father's job he wears his father's jacket he smiles his father's smile. what else are they supposed to think.#and isnt that interesting!!! that this man who is so committed to being good & just can lie so casually to people he thinks of as friends!!!#can you see how that might be his mother through and through!!! in how she might have glossed over the abuse to other people and herself!!!#can you see how in spite of it all he might want to be perceived as his father that paragon of masculinity and resent that he is not!!!#do you understand how everything he loves has been poisoned!!! im thinking of that scene where he tells bruce about watching martin die &#wouldnt it have been so much more interesting through this lens. how he is both revealing & obfuscating at once. i hate the change sm

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siri-ike · 2 days ago

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@megasweetbones I'm making this the prequel to the other fic

Warning ⚠️ suicidal thoughts from a child, ploting to murder a child, multiple deaths, semi successful suicide, S.A., victim blaming negative self-talk

(Also, let me know, do you want the warning, or is it too much of a spoiler?)

Pronunciation guide for the name Álaug

Ál sounds like owl, Au sounds like eui, soft G

The thorns dug into her palm, causing her to bleed, but she refused to loosen her grip. This is it. Álaug thought as gravity brought her closer and closer to her inevitable end. Well, actually, she thought, "Í víti finn ég loksins frið" but, she's about to die, she's allowed to be a litte edge lord right now. The closer she got the brighter she could see the glow of the Lazarus water from behind her. She kurled in on herself around the black rose as the pit swallowed her whole.

One week earlier

This is it. This is the day Athanasia will escape. She's planned it for months, and it's finally time.

"Your target is Gord Keener, a Canadian politician. He's sponsoring a girl's hockey league. You will each join one of the teams to get close and kill him once you get the opportunity."

Athanasia stood perfectly still, as Grandfather assigned her her first leading role for a mission since being declared an unsuccessful attempt. It would just be her and Danielle, no, Daniel. He had told her just a few nights ago. No way would Grandfather accept him like that, especially on top of all his other issues, so she had to bring him. Which is fine. She can hunt food for herself. What's one more? Plus, she's ha- he's had some combat training, too. That's gonna take some getting used to.

The problem started when Grandfather made her bring Álaug. Come on, she had only been there for 2 months. She's not ready for a task. She barely speaks their language. But you know what? Athanasia is nothing if not resilient. She will overcome this obstacle. And not just because Daniel begged her not to kill her and push her body of a steep cliff.

Tryouts were easy, Daniel was great in cold environments, and Álaug was surprisingly a fantastic skater. They successfully infiltrated the 7, 8, and 9 year old teams.

Even with the added obstacle, this all felt too perfect. If Athanasia didn't know any better, she'd think Grandfather was purposely putting all his problems in one boat to get rid of them. The mission itself is so inconsequential. What could one polite snowman do to them?

"What about you, Jasmine?... Jasmine?"

Oh, right. Jasmine was the name she had given.

"What?"

"Which comic do you want? Alicia brought a bunch." One of the Olivias stated.

"I have Phantom Stranger, Tales from Atlantis, Boom-boom Kaboom, Return of the Gray Ghost, and The Time Keeper. Everything else is already taken."

These girls don't even know her. And from how Alicia had spoken about her books, they were clearly important.

Atha- Jasmine ended up reading 7 issues of the Time Keeper. A mysterious cloaked figure who punishes time travelers for messing with the timestream. What utter nonsense. The real Time-Wraiths would never be as welcoming and well spoken as this Time Keeper. And yet she can't stop reading. That is, until she gets to the 7th issue. In it, there's a side plot where three young girls are planning to assassinate a member of the time council. The oldest and youngest were sisters. The youngest looked exactly like Daniel but had short hair, and the third character was the most concerning. In the story, the girls told the Green Hornet that they were being blackmailed into doing the job, but in the end, it turned out the third girl had been sent as a spy.

Athanasia can in no way be considered gullible or naive. Even by assassin standards, she can sniff out a lie a mile away. But this, this is different. But the book she chose happened to be the one that warns of a traitor? That has to be an omen, or some kind of spirit trying to warn her.

At this point, Daniel is used to pretending to be one of the girls. But it felt different this time. One of his teammates had asked if she could call him Dani for short, and it felt so right. Righter than "Daniel" had felt. "Danny" was absolutely perfect.

There wasn't really any information gathering to do, so he was free to play sleepover games with the rest of his group. For once, he was included with the others. The adults didn't try to separate him or tell him he's too weak or that he was a waste of resources. He was just part of the group. Is this what life will be like outside the league? He couldn't wait to tell Athanasia all about it.

Two months ago Álaug was happily vacationing with her parents and two older brothers. And now she's expected to kill some guy? She had exepted that her parents were dead. She had had to. And even if Bölverkur and Böðólfur had survived in the first place, they definitely couldn't have survived two months alone in the Himalayan mountains. They can't even be left home alone for a week. Couldn't.

"Oley? Oley? Can you hear me?" One of the hockey girls was butchering her name.

"It's Á-laug," There wasn't any feeling in her voice. She used to hate it when people mispronounced her name. "It means curse or charmed lake."

That seemed to catch the girls off guard, and they left her alone for a while after that.

Until one of the adults walked over to her. Not the coach. This is one of the girls' moms.

"Hi, sweetheart." She placed a hand on Álaugs knee only to get slapped away. "Why are you mad at the other girls?"

Leading question, assigning her an emotion rather than asking her how she feels. The assassins taught her all about it. There's no point talking to her because she's already decided what's happening. Álaug stood up in silence and headed towards the door. The woman grabbed her hand. As she expected, there was no attempt to check herself. She would only assign blame. Álaug looked back at her. There was nothing in her eyes, no aggression or sadness, just hollowness. "What is your plan?" She leers. "Hoping that I'll scream and yell, so you can look like the big stong authority figure? Want me to blindly obey your orders so you can feel powerful? What me to cry, so you can comfort the new girl? You didn't even ask what happened. You just decided that I was in the wrong. Because someone told you a biased version of half a story." Álaug was fully aware how uncomfortable she made people, no one likes hearing such complicated accusations from a 9 year old, especially one who is clearly speaking a second language. And the calmness makes her all the more unsettling. But right now, she just couldn't pretend. The parent chaperone, or whatever she was, stood there in stunned silence long enough for Álaug to make her way out of the common area and into one of their bedrooms, where she locked herself in. From there, it was just a matter of climbing out the window. Hopefully, she'd get lucky and never see any of these people again, not the hockey team, the assassins, her cooperatives, anyone. Maybe she'd get lucky and disappear forever. Their room was on the 14th floor. She could disappear right now, and no one could stop her.

🎶🎵🎶

If only whoever was in the room to the left above them could stop singing for five minutes so she could think.

Climbing wasn't just something the league thought her. She was already good. She was on a lot of teams and sports clubs before Nanba Parbat. Not that any of that mattered now. Her friends probably think she died with her family. If only. There was a half-naked man singing and dancing alone in the room. He was way off tune. She climbed properly onto the balcony. Should she pick the lock or knock? Wait, no, why would she need to get in? She didn't care about this guy. The only thing he has going for him is that he hasn't pissed her off yet. She opted for knocking, which startled him in a rather animated manner. He opened the glass door to let her inside.

"Did Henry lock you out here?"

"Ég slapp frá forráðamönnum mínum." Easier to pretend not to know English.

"I don't understand." He paused as though thinking. "WOULD. YOU. LIKE. SOME. TEA?" Idiot.

She walked past him towards the door. But she stops. Putting aside the stupidity of trying to yell over the language barrier, why offer tea? Does he expect her to stay? She hurries, but the door is locked. Hotel doors aren't supposed to lock people in. There must be someth-

"Come now, he was probably just having a bit of fun."

She should have known. How could she be so stupid? Any trustworthy person would have been shocked to see an 8 year old girl in pajamas on their balcony. She didn't need to look back to know he was coming closer. For the first time in two months, she actually felt something. Why'd it have to be fear? She bolted for the nearest open door, which happened to lead to bedroom with a large fancy looking bed. She closed the door behind her, but there was nothing to block it. All she could do was hide. Whether she chose under the bed or in the closet, she'd be at a disadvantage either way. She darted under the bed. Down side: reduced speed, vulnerable position. Upside: he's too big to fit, and he can't reach her if she stays in the center.

"Putting up a fight, huh? I like that. Some of the other girls he hires make it too easy."

Tell him you weren't hired for anything and give away your location? Or assume the worst of a guy who apparently regularly hires girls young enough that she could be confused for one. Easy choice. She trained her eyes on his shoes as closed the door behind him.. Then his pants dropped to his ankles. Álaug reaches a hand into her pajama bottoms, for the knife straped to her thigh. Thank you, League of Assassins... ACTUALLY NO, they're the reason she's here. The league can all go lick this guy's sweaty butthole!

"Do you have braces?" He slowly made his way towards the bed. "The last one had braces. They leave scratches." It sounded like he wanted the answer to be yes.

The closet made a creaking noise, and he turned to it. He opened the closet door and grunted in disappointment. Álaug heard the scratching of hangers sliding around on a metal pole and clothes being shifted around. Interrupted suddenly by a thump, then a second, smaller pair of bare feet land on the floor behind him as he trips forward into the closet. Álaug uses the opportunity to run out from under the bed and slice his exposed ankles. He screamed and swore at the top of his lungs but only for a moment before Álaugs knife was taken from her and stabbed straight into the man's neck. The other girl. She stood there holding the knife in place and covered in blood. She was obscured in the darkness. The man jolted an arm, and Álaug took the chance to leap over to the other girl, grab the knife, and repeatedly stab him in the throat again. She felt a pain in her cheeks. She brought a hand to her face only to find that she couldn't stop smiling. Like this was her life's greatest accomplishment. The other girl took her hand and they left the room together.

In the light of the living area, she could properly make out the girls' features. She had medium brown skin and darker brown currly hair with a few broken butterflies clips in it. Her greenish brown eyes were full of tears and snot poured from her upturned nose. She examined Álaug too. Her eyes darted from her straight, dirty blonde hair to her narrow chin and down to her slightly oversized PJs held together with a headband around her waist.

"I'm Nadia. You?"

"Álaug, it's Owl like the animal Au like in bird and ends with a soft G."

"Oh, ok, um, Nadia is like, ah.-"

"It's fine. I can remember Nadia." Álaug pointed at Nadias loose jersey. "You on one of the teams?"

"Nah, Mama Crieo had me wear this to get into the hotel."

Álaug looked down at the logo on her own top. "Oh, you're an assassin, too?"

"Uhm, no." She looked at Álaug with a bit more scrutiny this time. "Who were you here to assassinate?"

"Gord Keener, a politician, I don't know what he did, can't be as bad as that guy." She gestured back to the unconscious man bleeding out behind them.

Nadia narrowed her eyes. She pointed to a suitcase on the floor. Álaug walked over to it, and Nadia followed, still refusing to let go of her hand. Álaug checked the bag tag from his flight. "Keener"

"Oh, well, that worked out nicely then."

"Nicely? Are you - " She sighed." Never mind, we should get out of here." She holds out her blood-stained jersey. "He probably didn't have spares in our sizes."

Nadia hated the plan. Staying in the suite with a dead body while Álaug climed down to get extra clothes was the absolute last thing she wanted to do, right after having to use their assailants grown man shoes to step in more creep blood to obscure their distinctly child sized bloody footprints. She finished shortly before Álaug got back, wearing two pairs of shorts and to jerseys, and two pairs of sneakers slung over her shoulders. They left the clothes near the body and snuck out using a keycard Nadia had found during her cover-up.

"Olie!"

They were almost to the front door when that same parent chaperone spotted them.

"Olie! Get back here!" She ran towards them. And they sprinted as fast as they could, but it was no use. "Olie, we were worried sick. How did you even get out?" She held tight onto Álaugs wrist.

"I thought your name was Álaug." Nadia remarked.

"So, did, I." Álaug snarked.

"This isn't funny. You're coming with me." She started walking back, dragging a resistant Álaug behind her.

Nadia watched on horrified, a million thoughts rushed in and out of her head, and she did something she never thought she would.

She bit the woman's hand.

It was shocking enough that they both could escape out the front door without being caught.

They stopped in an alley almost three blocks away to catch their breath.

"We need to find a thrift store, catwalk around wearing a recognizable team logo." Álaug suggested.

"Ok," Nadia pulled a battered looking leather wallet from he pants pocket. "20, 40, 60, 80, 90, 100, 5, 10, 15, 20, 25, 26, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12. We have one hundred and thirty-two dollars. Hope they have coats in our size, or at least thick hoodies." She picked out the ID and credit cards. "Mama Crieo says to never take the cards because they can be tracked." She slips them into a nearby drain cover.

"I can't believe I didn't think to take his money." Álaug looks fondly at Nadia. "That must be why people commit crimes with partners."

The elderly woman who owned the diner they'd hidden behind very helpfully gave them directions to the nearest second-hand store not owned by Debra, to whom she apparently refused to send business. The store she sent them to was perfect. The kids' section was huge, and they were even able to find somewhat matching overalls. Score. Álaugs were mossy green with leaves mushrooms and caterpillar embroidery, paired with a pale yellow bell-sleeved blouse, winter stockings, and black Mary Jane shoes. Nadias were a light pink to orange gradient with butterflies and cherry blossom branches, paired with a white long sleeved t-shirt, pale pink winter stockings, and black boots. The hoodie selection was less interesting but they found a purple one with a dinosaur on it and a black one with some stars on the back.

At the counter Álaug quickly ran off and brought back one more item. A pack of butterfly hair clips that she presented to her friend with a smile. They were different from the ones Nadia had, or, the two that were still intact. Her old ones were semi transparent and had round wings. These new ones were glittery and had more square-ish wings. But they were perfect anyway. The price came out to 73CAD and 1 cent. The cashier was nice enough to ignore the one cent so they wouldn't have to carry a bunch of change with them.

Nadia counts their money again after they leave, 59CAD, more than enough for two lunch packs and train tickets. The plan was to go back to Mama Crieo since Henry probably wasn't going to give her a ride back now.

Train tickets for under 12 are 10CAD each, prepackaged sandwiches are 4CAD each, and since somehow water costs money in this country, two water bottles were almost 3CAD, leaving them with only 28.32CAD left.

"Back home water is free." Álaug sat cross-legged in her seat.

"Where is that?" Nadia opened her bottle with a little fizz, she picked the strawberry flavored sparkling water. She wanted a soda, but Álaug told her the salt in it would only make her thirsty again.

"Ísland." She reminisced. That's where her home is, where her grandparents are, her classmates, and where her, her parents, and brothers should all be. "We were on vacation, my mom and dad, Bölverkur and Böðólfur, my brothers." Álaug noticed the confusion on Nadias face. "They were twins, böl means to do something bad, and verk means work or action. Böð means, like, a message about danger or inviting evil, and ólfur comes from úlfur meaning wolf. So Bad do-er and Evil message wolf."

Nadia chucked a bit. And so did Álaug, for a short moment, but it quickly turned to tears.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh, they're perfectly good names." Nadia tried.

Álaug wiped her eyes. "No, it's fine. Æi, They're probably dead, is all. But it's OK, it doesn't hurt as much as before." She sniffled.

Nadia looked down thinking of a way to change the subject. "What does your name mean?"

Inhaling, she tried to steady herself. "Álaug is a combination of álög meaning curse or enchantment, and laug meaning pool. So, a cursed lake. All Icelandic names have some kind of meaning. My dad once got me a book with all the parts of names explained. Like, æ, laug is a pretty common end for a girl name, then there's also Ey meaning island, Rún meaning seacret or friend, Dýs meaning fairy or goddes or some kind of magical woman. For boys' names, there's Ólfur and Úlfur, both mean wolf, Þór God of thunder and lightning, protector of the courts, and those who work the land, Vin meaning friend. There's a whole bunch of them. A lot of starts to, you could pick any of the common starts of a name and a common ending of a name and put them together.-"

That wasn't the end of Álaugs speech,she actually talked about Icelandic naming conversations for almost an hour, and Nadia did not try to stop her. She didn't even remind her to eat her sandwich.

There's way too much of this, so I'll reblog with the second half.

The other fic is Jasmine Al-Ghul

Translations

"Í víti finn ég loksins frið"-> "in the void, I will finally find peace."

"Ég slapp frá forráðamönnum mínum." -> "I escaped from my guardians."

(Ignore my rant in the tags)

If the Lazarus Pits are ectoplasm, what happens if someone throws blood blossoms in one?

#gord keener is the most canadian name google could give me. gord is apparently a common name. and keener is slang meaning suck up.#i made everything about him as stariotypicaly canadian as i could #it was supposed to be just the laziest way to make an unimportant character but now i kinda like him #gord might show up in some of my other fics. hes part of the roster now. just an easter egg that no one will know to look for #oc #dc oc #dp x dc au #dp x dc crossover #can you tell that people mispronounce my name a lot? i hate it so much. its litteraly two syllables and both of them exist in English.#i didnt name her efter myself btw my name is easier to pronounce than hers but for some reason people always #replace the G with a K and the “A” with and “E”. i always have to specify “it ends with ”A“ like the first letter in the alphabet”#sometimes i even have to tell them that no icelandic girls name ends with the sound “E” and neither do any boys names here.#and yet i keep having to repeat myself. over and over to the same person. because it just does not go through #danny phantom #dp x dc fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #that scene took me several days to write. i had to take so many breaks in between. during those breaks i worked on clone danny.#i had to use CLONE DANNY as a pallet cleanser. specifically the bedroom scene there. because thatones so cute and wholesome. whereas this #one makes me not want to have skin. just wanna peel it all off. only thing that could overpower the pain in my soul.#info dump #im pretty sure ive put a charecter going on a long rant in every single one of my fics.#your honor they are autistic

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