#but they also cry about how no one is compassionate to them SIMULTANEOUSLY saying that empathy is vile

[g0thsoojin]

when i see actual shitty people im like wow it is actually insane that i have such low self esteem and call myself bad when im nowhere close as most of these awful bitches lmao

[cosmicjoke]

Im not sure why people insist that Levis gruff behavior is a facade. He can be a gruff rude person while also simultaneously being a compassionate caring man. Both things can be true. That’s what makes him amazing, he’s not putting on a facade he’s just a really really good,empathetic person despite how rude/gruff he is.

Like that’s what makes Levi (and people in general) so amazing. The layers to personalities. Nobody is just one-note. That’s what’s so cool. I love Levi’s rudeness, he lowkey can tend to get annoyed by others, doesn’t like putting up with bullshit etc. Doesn’t even really like people that much…yet he loves humanity. Both can be true.

That's a great point. Levi is probably the most real person there is in AoT. There's nothing false about him. If there's anything awkward about him, it all comes from the fact that he doesn't really know how to or simply isn't interested in putting on airs, or in pretending to be someone he isn't. A good comparison is between him and Zeke. I always talk about how Levi is Zeke's perfect opposite, and Zeke is very charming. But charming people are often charming because they're manipulative. And Zeke is very manipulative. He initially draws people to him because he's charming, but it's all false, and eventually it pushes people away. Levi isn't charming at all. He comes across as surly and rude and blunt, exactly because he isn't manipulative. People who are initially repelled by his honesty are, in turn, eventually drawn to him and love him because they can sense how sincere of a person he is. He's honest to a fault. He can be rude because he'll just flat out tell you what he thinks. He comes across as impolite because he's just too honest. But like you said, his gruffness and hard edges don't negate the fact that he actually is more deeply compassionate and caring toward people than anyone. He's honest, I would even say, because he cares. It shows a certain level of respect toward people, when you're honest with them, even when the truth is hard to hear. Like you said, Levi isn't interested in putting up with BS, and he's not interested in feeding people BS either. So no, Levi definitely isn't putting up a facade. That's just how he really is. His blunt manner is just who he is.

But what Levi does do is he holds his emotions inside, and doesn't really burden others with the weight of his own grief and sense of loss. And he does that for the sake of others, in order to effectively fulfill his duty to them. You might notice that Levi is completely nonjudgmental when other people break down and show their emotions. He doesn't tell them to shut up or to stop crying or to stop complaining. He doesn't tell them they're being weak or stupid for being scared. He accepts and respects other people's emotions. But he doesn't allow himself to be outwardly emotional, because he knows he needs to stay strong in order to protect those same people. It's really remarkable. People sometimes accuse Levi of being emotionless because of this, but that's completely off the mark. He's the opposite of emotionless. He feels more deeply than anyone. The fact he doesn't allow those feelings to show for himself is just another example of his selflessness. He does it because he doesn't want to put that burden on anyone else, and because he can't afford to let himself be overcome with his feelings if he's going to also be able to perform his duty.

[don-quixotine]

hi i come bearing humanitarian relief from optygami

so like, yikes huh?

I didn't expect all the angst and that last scene absolutely DESTROYED me in the worst possible way. Anywhoo, I was so unwell that I dreamt a follow-up. This is a new level of brainrot. So, without further ado welcoome to another edition of

bullet point fics that i'll probably never write but I need to get out of my system: post-Optygami edition

After Optygami, Chat pretends he's ok but he's actually quite sad that Ladybug didn't need him to defeat the Akuma. Even more so, that instead of going for him, she went for Rena and Carapace.

lol Milk Bar scene 2.0.

He tries to hide it, but unlike other things that make him sad like oh idk, his entire family life, this is new. And he can't hide it because Ladybug was the one person that never failed to make him feel needed and wanted.

So, he's at school and he's looking sad and Marinette notices. She kicks into Supporting Friend Mode the way she's done with Zoé, Juleka etc. and asks him what's wrong. Adrien at first doesn't want to say, but Marinette gives her one of her Motivational Speeches™️ and convinces him.

Adrien says that it's hard to explain, but he feels like someone really loves is pushing him to the side and he feels like he is not needed anywhere.

Marinette will very much Not Have That

So she starts telling him all the good things she sees in him and how everyone, especially her, is lucky to have him around. And girl ain't even blushing or stuttering.

"Adrien you're always so kind and compassionate to everyone, you always make time for us even though your Father is so strict with you. You're always willing to give everyone the benefit of doubt, even when they don't deserve it. You're a great friend"

Adrien high key is tearing up btw

And my boy is so starved for affection that he's just. He falls for her immediately??? He never realized Marinette saw him like that??

He feels so acknowledged???????

also Nino sees and he reassures him as well.

"Whoever this friend is can go take a hike if they don't value you, dude. smh I'll throw hands for you."

appreciate the i r o n y

THEN...

Alya figures out Adrien is Chat Noir and she has that oh no moment. Without telling Mari why, she is ADAMANT that she tells Chat immediately about everything that has been going on with the guardianship.

"Trust me Marinette. Just trust me. You NEED to tell Chat about these things."

Marinette confesses she had not told him because she knows he's going to be very angry at her that she relied on someone else in her hour of need and she's scared she might lose him because lesser things have made him doubt himself to the point of returning the ring.

"Alya you don't understand," she says crying. "I know him. I know this is is going to hurt him so much."

Alya, out of curiosity, asks why she came to her and not Chat when things got too heavy and Marinette explains the incident in Chat Blanc and how absolutely scared to the bone she is that it might happen again. Not because she wouldn't be able to fix it, but because she couldn't bear seeing Chat being hurt like that again.

Eventually Marinette gathers the courage to tell Chat Noir and of course he's sad, heartbroken, angry and no matter how much Ladybug tries to apologize or reassure him that she trusts him, he simply can't.

Chat says he understands that she needed to lean on someone and it's her right to choose who that is.

"Don't worry m'lady, I understand. But... I need some time off. After all, something tells me you'll make do even if i'm not there."

BIG OUCH 😃

Marinette is devastated and recognizes her mistake and understands she is in no position to ask Chat to be there but that doesn't help the fact she's absolutely heartbroken.

As a civilian, Adrien notices Marinette is sad and talks to her. Mari cries bc she says she made a terrible mistake and she managed to really hurt one of the friends she loves the most and is scared she lost them for good.

Adrien consoles her and tells her she did the right thing by coming clean to them, and that she should have faith in her friend bc "friends fight sometimes Mari, it's normal, right? They will come around. You were honest with them, and that's what matters. They'll appreciate it eventually."

"Besides, e-even if they don't... I-i'll always be here for you"

"And if they don't, I'll personally go and punch your friend in the face"

aaaahhhh adrinette fluff.

And so, while ladynoir is crumbling to pieces, adrinette is like, VERY close to becoming canon but bc of what happened in ladynoir they refrain from showing their romantic feelings but are like, "No way I'm making the same mistakes again" so they become each other's closest confident (sans the whole Miraculous thing of course)

Adrien starts telling Mari about "this friend" and the problems in his family. Marinette start tellings him about "these responsibilities" and "this friend I have" and they unintentionally coach the other through how to proceed to heal the ladynoir partnership.

Simultaneously, Adrien's help lets Marinette understand how very much she loves Chat and him taking the break from Ladybug's company and replacing it with Marinette, lets him know how head over heels he had been for her all this time = tada! reverse love square.

They become super, super close friends. Like deadass ppl think they're dating (but what else is new smh)

"Ha ha, no. We're Just Very Good Friends™️" *they say as they're literally holding hands or snuggling on a bench*

Eventually Chat Noir comes out of his little break and Ladybug and him meet up to talk and it's like, an ugly crying sobfest ahaha :)

LB apologizes again and begs him to forgive her, she promises she'll do better and she'll show him how much she need him and--

"M'lady, stop. I already forgave you. It's all water under the bridge so--

"No! No it's not, because I can't believe I made you think you're dispensible. Chat Noir you're my partner and you'll always be my partner and I treated you like you weren't but I just... I couldn't tell you, Chaton. I couldn't--"

"But why? What couldn't you tell me, m'lady?"

LB breaks down and explains the Chat Blanc incident to him

"I was so scared. I was so afraid for you and so terrified that I wouldn't be able to bring you back. I'd never be able to forgive myself if one day I cannot bring you back, Chat. I want to know who you are but if knowing puts you at risk, then I won't do it. I love you more than I want to know your identity."

ajgkfahgfak gajfkk UGLY SOBBING.

"Then... that means we cannot be together... ever?" Chat asks and his voice is cracking because he's doing all humanly possible not to cry too.

"Not until Hawkmoth is defeated. I promise minou, as soon as we defeat him, we can be together. In the meantime, we have to keep the secret."

Chat Noir gently wipes off the tears from Ladybug and steps closer to her and goes "Then, m'lady, if you'll allow it, I'd like us to keep one more secret."

He leans down slowly, to give LB a chance to say no if she doesn't want it to happen, but she doesn't stop him. They kiss.

"This one stays between us," Chat mutters and then smirks at her. "See you in the next Akuma, m'lady."

The end.

[theseerasures]

why is it so hard to defect from Atlas?

Barbara Dunkelmann said during Comic-Con at Home last year that this season’s theme would be “distrust,” but i’m wondering now if the more appropriate word is “discontent.” since Divide, we’ve had arguments big and small, teams splitting up and recombining, and of course, :( and :/ galore at all the war, all the crimes, all the war crimes, and all the general bad decisions (not to be confused with James Ironwood, General Bad Decisions). we’ve now had our first major defections of the season with Hazel and Emerald, which is...interesting to me; they’re both long-runners, certainly, but part of the reason they’re long-running is because their arcs have ALWAYS been on a slow boil. for the defection to happen around the mid-season mark, a lot of things (particularly for Hazel) had to happen very quickly, particularly since they both skipped out the previous season altogether. this is made all the more interesting by the fact that the Atlesian supporting cast who filled the time in season 7 are similarly discontented, but...well, a generous reading of it would be that they’re still “figuring things out,” but we’ve also been watching them “figure things out” for two seasons now, Winter and Marrow especially. why did Hazel and Emerald defect first when they work for the main villain, when Winter and the AceOps--who have taken up more screen time cumulatively during the Atlas arc--are still hemming and hawing to various degrees?

long discussion under the cut--but the tl;dr is: it’s because they live in a (narratively constructed) society

i’m actually gonna start with the discontent that DIDN’T result in defection, which is obviously the Yang-Ruby split. we’ve known that members of Team Protagonist--most notably Yang and Ren--have had doubts for a while now, and sure enough, when push comes to shove they pick a path separate from their implicit leader. as protagonists Yang and Ren are frequently our POV characters, so we’re predisposed to sympathize with them as they doubt Ruby’s agenda, root for them as they bring it up to Ruby in conversation, and...watch as they...regretfully but cordially agree to disagree...

wait, what?

that’s the thing about Team Protagonist, especially at this point in the narrative: everyone feels safe and secure enough in themselves and in each other to communicate openly, even when they disagree. every time Yang felt uncomfortable she talked to somebody about it, and even Ren--Mr. Weaponizing Repression himself--was able to express how he felt. even if it took some prodding from Nora/Yang, even if the direction of his emotions ended up misfiring and hurting his friends--they’re his friends. his family, even. Team Protagonist is able to act and stay together so effectively because they make open communication a priority: they follow Ruby’s lead, but they also trust that Ruby will LISTEN to them, even if she doesn’t always agree.

(the reason they had this disagreement at all is because of the time they couldn’t talk things through, and just had to uncritically back Ruby’s play--when they first entered Atlas. funny, that.)

Team Salem obviously doesn’t work the same way, and this season has made it particularly explicit just how much everyone lives in a state of constant fear and surveillance. what makes solidarity and eventual rebellion possible (though terrifying), though, are two things: first, Salem--being an upstart herself--actually encourages a level of individual initiative in her followers (well. encouraged; i have a feeling with the Hound being a success and Hazel and Emerald’s defection she’s about to change her tune). she’s a master manipulator, and uses people’s individual wants to sway them to her side; but she’s also not a mind-reader, which is kind of biting her in the ass right now.

second, Salem herself is so many LEAGUES beyond everyone else on her “team” that (unless you’re actively trying to be a tit) there...isn’t actually much of a hierarchy beyond “Salem’s in charge.” Watts and Cinder--both Atlesian to varying degrees, mind--are the two who try the hardest to carve out some authority of their own, but even Watts is at least convivial with everyone (except Cinder). to be on Team Salem you have to accept that this is her world and you just live in it, and that ends up equalizing people from very disparate backgrounds with very disparate personalities and skillsets. no one, not even Tyrian, is under the delusion that Salem cares about them, or will listen to their counsel. so when it comes to the least of her followers--Emerald, who (joke copyright @professorspork) is basically Salem’s grandpet, this gerbil who follows her around now for some reason and occasionally makes weird noises (”you mean crying?” Emerald asks, crying)--it’s actually quite easy for her to escape Salem’s notice until it’s too late, while firming up the solidarities that she has (Hazel and Mercury--not Cinder).

to defect, Emerald and Hazel need a degree of narrative interiority, some sense of security with each other (even if it’s just subconscious), and time. time to work things out from their point of view, pull the wool from their eyes. this season’s narrative has given them all that and more.

our Atlesian potential defectors...haven’t been so lucky, and the most recent episode has made that contrast very explicit.

i’m sure i’m not the only one who assumed, when Ironwood first floated the bomb plan, that we’d be getting some kind of Mission Impossible sneaky stealth shit. we’re used to seeing the AceOps do small squad missions, after all, and the timing felt right thematically too, since we left War with Ren literally expositing to all of them that they do, in fact, have feelings. an extended mission to themselves would give them a chance to air out those feelings away from Atlas’ own system of surveillance, figure out what to do together...

but we didn’t get any of that. instead, we got the whoosh laser kapow version of a Sassoon poem, and the AceOps barely talked to each other at all. the only points of view we got were from Marrow, and Winter.

this isn’t the first time something like this has happened to them this season, either--remember the Penny Retrieval mission that wasn’t? there were also hopes that Marrow and/or Winter would turn at that point, but then Salem invaded. Winter and the AceOps have had the potential to defect for a while now, but the narrative has been actively withholding opportunities for them to actualize on any of that potential. it’s been actively withholding opportunities for them to act as a team, period.

it’s possible to handwave this as writerly convenience--everyone can’t defect at the same time, the episodes don’t have room for it--but the ways that defections have been prioritized so that the Atlesians come after also points to a recurring motif with Atlas, which Elm says explicitly in Witch: you can deal with your issues later.

there’s always some kind of delayed promise at Atlas, isn’t there? the Amity project will help. Mantle’s Wall will get fixed (until it wasn’t). when Penny confronts Winter about leaving Mantle to die, Winter says first that they don’t have time, and it seems like they never actually do, except for in this imagined later, when they’ll reckon with every thing that they’ve done.

it doesn’t exist, of course. fascism is only able to remain effective through the engineering of crisis, and Salem might as well be a crisis perpetual motion generator. you can’t conscientiously object if your conscience is constantly stifled by the next emergency.

what the Atlesian scenes in Witch demonstrate is this: Atlas presses down all around them, at all times. even if the AceOps want to stop policing each other and work as a real team, they can’t right now, because they are now officers in a war, because they’re constantly looked to, because they’re part of an infinitely greater machine that demands their service. and right now lasts forever--you will NEVER have time to talk out your discontent...

and even if you steal time and perspective like Marrow does (like Emerald has been doing, thief that she is) with Winter, there is no guarantee of any solidarity. what makes their conversation so simultaneously fascinating and frustrating is that there is clearly some level of rapport, or at least recognition. Marrow goes to Winter because Winter’s in charge, but Marrow also goes to Winter because Winter might hear him out...and she does. Winter does what Winter has consistently done when a person seeks her out and earnestly asks to be heard, and responds compassionately. but at the same time, Winter does what Winter has consistently done when a person seeks her out and earnestly asks to be heard: she turns away. in a conversation that is supposed to be about a shared trust between the two of them, Winter cannot bring herself to trust Marrow. the Atlesian system is built out of these hierarchies within hierarchies, distrusts within distrusts (well i guess Barbara had a point after all), and Winter, abused kid that she is, has played this game all her life. so she defaults to rank and duty--what they have to do now--and the conversation goes nowhere. Marrow leaves it as alone and bitterly resigned as when he’d entered it.

so when is this moral inertia gonna go somewhere? IS it going somewhere? well, i’m still holding out hope that the AceOps will get some time to themselves as part of Bomb the Whale, and i’m certain that even if it doesn’t fall into their lap Marrow will eventually demand it. the fact that they still work well together on the field as partners should mean something. the question is, though: what will it take to bring that later to the present?

and at what point does it become too late?

[miastideclock]

Kim Namjoon Drabble, "2. 21. 50."

Kristina asked:

hi! do you think you could do a drabble with Namjoon (RM)?? And i looked through ur pick a number thing- could you do it with 50 - 21 - 2 ? Thank youu!!

(also idk if you include names, but if you wanna my name is Kristina but my friends call me Cricket)

Dude, i love your name!! And considering the numbers you chose, i'm assuming you wanted it to be kinda sad, bordering on angsty? please let me know if that wasn't what you had in mind, and i'll cook you up a new one!!

Word count:

2. "Listen, if you're gonna break my heart, can we do it outside?" 21. "This isn't gonna have a happy ending, is it?" 50. "I don't think I love you anymore."

Iron. You identified the taste in your mouth as iron. The liquid was warm and odd in consistency, and yet the taste fell familiar. You quickly pulled your hands away from your lips to see what was bleeding, shocked to see your fingertips.

One of your worst habits included biting your fingernails, especially when you were nervous- and truth be told, you had never been more anxious and nervous than you were right then. So when you had gotten yourself into a bit of an overthinking-state, you had been nibbling away, causing your fingers to bleed. As it wasn't too much blood, you just wiped it away on your hoodie, not bothering to get up to get a tissue.

You took a look at the clock. Nine forty-five.

Namjoon had a couple of his boys over for pizza and some games, but he had promised you they would be out of the house by eight thirty, since you said you needed to talk to him. But judging from the hoying and cheering downstairs, you could say it was safe to assume they were still here.

You sighed and got up from your seat on the floor next to the bed. Usually you would be at a friends house when Namjoon wanted some guy-time, but today you hadn't had the energy. So hiding out upstairs had been your plan-b.

You slowly made your way down the stairs, as to not make any of the steps creak. When you finally made it way downstairs, you crept up behind Namjoon who was standing behind the sofa, a soda, or maybe a beer- you couldn't really tell from where you were standing, in his hand. You gently placed your hand on his back, trying not to startle him. Your mission was accomplished when he softly turned around, giving you a big smile.

"Hey Cricket. What's up?" He smiled even more and wrapped his free arm around your waist and pulled you in to give you a kiss on your forehead.

To everyone else, it might have looked like you were deeply in love, and that everything was perfect, but that was far from the truth.

Namjoon had been working a lot lately, which isn't necessarily a problem. The problem was that you didn't mind. You didn't mind having the house to yourself and being away from Namjoon, actually- you had started to prefer it. The days he came home early, you found your heart sinking just ever so slightly. It disturbed you. All you wanted in the world was to cherish him and love him just as much as you did the first years you were dating- because that's what he deserved.

He had never done anything to make you fall out of love with him, but those things just happen sometimes.

"Sorry about the guys still here- they'll leave soon, I promise." Namjoon said, jumping to the conclusion that this was what it was about.

"No you don't." Hoseok called from the couch as he tossed a piece of popcorn into his mouth.

"No I don't." Namjoon laughed, but soon stopped when he saw you weren't joking around with them.

Namjoon on the other hand, hadn't noticed much of a difference in your relationship. Sure, you had been acting kind of distant the last few weeks, but he had just assumed you were giving it your all at work, and didn't always have the extra energy to be all lovey dovey with him all the time.

"Can I talk to you? Privately?" You finally asked, in kind of a quiet voice. Not that you were trying to hide what you were saying from the other boys, but Namjoon was so close, you really didn't need to talk any louder.

"2. If you're gonna break my heart, can we go outside?" Namjoon matched your volume, but was obviously kidding with what he said. Little did he know, it wasn't far off from being what was about to go down. You gave him a gentle nod and turned around, while still holding his hand. You then carefully lead him outside on the stairs leading up to your front door.

"Please sit down with me." You asked when you sat down on the stone steps. He did as he was asked and sat down so close that your legs were touching.

"21. This isn't going to have a happy ending, is it?" Namjoon was a lot less playful this time, and hit the nail on the head with his comment. You felt a lump grow in your throat as you grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers.

You didn't want to break up with him. You didn't want to- at all. You wanted to fall in love all over, and be the partner he deserved. Someone who loved and adored him, someone who supported them the entire way. Someone who didn't wish he would work overtime.

"I have so much respect for you, and everything you do. I care for you deeply, please don't get that wrong." You started, a stray tear falling from your eye. You don't bother wiping it away as you know there will be plenty more running down your cheeks in just a few minutes.

"But?" Namjoon urges you to continue as he looks down at your intertwined fingers, gently stroking the back of your hand.

"50. I don't think I love you anymore." It barely came out as a whisper, but when it did- the world froze. Namjoon gently pulled away his hand from yours as he now rested his elbows on his knees, looking onto the street ahead of you. "I wish I could do something about it- oh my god, if I could! But I don't think that's how this works."

The silence after you finished speaking was deafening. He didn't say anything, and neither did you. It was as if the traffic even knew to go around your block rather than through it, because no cars came passing by anymore. The birds could no longer be heard.

"So what happens now?" He sighed as he looked at you, tears in his eyes. The sight only made the lump in your throat burn even more, tears now pouring down your face like a waterfall you were unable to control.

"I don't know." You started, hugging yourself as you didn't know what else to do with your hands. "I'm scared." You finally whispered.

Namjoon could relate to you, so almost as if he was acting on instinct, he wrapped his arms around you and guided your head to rest on his chest as you cried.

"I don't know." He admitted before taking a small breath. "But I know we are going to get through it together. Of course it sucks that you don't have feelings for me anymore, but that's not something I can do anything about- and neither can you. We'll just have to deal with it."

The silence came around once again, but this time- it wasn't as loud. It was more comfortable.

This was the reason you were begging and praying to fall back in love with him. Even when you broke up with him, he was kind and caring and compassionate. He was holding and comforting you- even though he should be angry and frustrated. Maybe he was. Maybe he was just hiding it.

"I'll love you forever, you know that right?" He mentioned after he placed his head on top of yours.

"I know. And I'll love you too, just not in the way I need to love you." You sighed as you finally wrapped your arms around his waist.

A few more minutes passed before you finally pulled away from him, knowing that if you didn't do it know, you would never be able to. "I'm gonna go get a few things, and then a co-worker is going to pick me up. I'll be back tomorrow so we can discuss a few things, okay?" You said as you got to your feet, reaching out a hand for Namjoon so he also could get up.

He nodded as he grabbed your hand and hoisted himself off the steps.

"I better get the guys home too then." He sighed and wiped his face with the back of his sleeve, just to get rid of any residue from the tears.

You walked back inside where the video games and music were now muted, the boys sitting on the couch in anticipation. They didn't know you were planning on doing what you did, but they had probably read your body language enough to know the news you were delivering weren't exactly great.

"Hey, are you guys good?" Yoongi asked once you both stepped into the living room, your hand still holding Namjoon's. The two of you looked at each other, communicating through the looks you had evolved over the many years you had been dating.

"We broke up." You both said simultaneously.

Even though the boys were his band-members, and his coworkers- they still had plenty of love for you as well. So when you broke the news to them, you could easily tell they had difficulties with figuring out who to run and hug first. You just gave them a sad smile and then walked past them to get upstairs, leaving Namjoon behind as well.

Grabbing a bag, you felt your hands shake. You didn't want to pack. You just wanted to sit on the floor and cry with your boyf-

Ex.

Your ex-boyfriend.

The realization finally hit as you were about to losely toss your toothbrush into your bag, but it dropped to the floor before you could even reach the toothbrush. You felt your knees begin to give out, so you quickly grabbed the edges of the sink to support yourself, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you did so.

You hadn't heard the front door open and close. You didn't even hear someone come up the stairs, and especially nothing when they came into the washroom where you were standing.

He didn't have to say anything for you to notice he was standing behind you though. His cologne warmed you up a bit inside, so it was easy to tell who it was.

You slowly turned around, leaning against the sink still- just in case.

"Do you think, that in another lifetime-" You cut off your own whisper. Namjoon took a few steps closer, only a few centimeters between your bodies now. Then he slowly nodded, knowing exactly what you were trying to ask.

He then closed the gap between you, and held you close. It didn't take long before you hugged him back, not knowing what else to do.

"I love you." He whispered into your hair.

"I love you too." You replied as you dug yourself deeper into his chest.

"Not enough."

Damn, who hurt me? 🤡

Anyways, I hope you liked it!! Feel free to request again!

-bentley

[novachela]

The Signs as People I Know

Aries: Absolutely wild. Never slow down. Do you ever sleep? They don’t think in their head, they think out loud. Calm down.

Taurus: Literally always tired. If you ask if they want food, the answer is always yes. Will not share unless they love you. Needs attention but hates it. Hobbies include movies and weed. Me.

Gemini: The bane of my existence and somehow also the loml. Absolute drama queen. Thrives on toxicity while simultaneously complaining about how their life is shitty. Will agree with you to your face and then turn around and do the exact opposite. Ghosts you for months and then gets confused when you think they’re ignoring you.

Cancer: Loves a good cry. Will watch sappy movies with you. Ghosts you for their ex after telling you how toxic they were. P much always high. Needs therapy. Gets drunk and subsequently arrested for peeing on shoes in Walmart.

Leo: Literally never shuts up. If they aren’t talking about themselves, they’re spouting actual gibberish. Obsessed with fast cars and money. Anger issues. They can be super sweet but mostly they’re just crazy. Has had an MGK ‘Wild Boy’ phase. 

Virgo: Quiet as hell. Only talks when they have something important to say. Hard to get to know. Workaholics but not bc they want to be. Probably has a dog.

Libra: Damaged, but aesthetically. Needs therapy but fully functional so no one believes them. Effortlessly beautiful. Desperately wants to make the world a better place but dragged down by reality. Straight A student, probably teacher’s pet. Can’t catch a break. 

Scorpio: Probably a witch. Definitely into some spooky shit. Will say “I know a place.” and then take you to a cemetery and pull out a Ouija board. Magnetic personality. Seriously Scorpios are so much fun. “it’s not a phase mom!” and then it really wasn’t. Vengeful. Do not cheat on this person or they will drive out into the country to your house and pour honey in and around your mailbox so it gets swarmed with ants.

Sagittarius: Never wanted kids, just wants to travel. More self absorbed than they’ll admit. One of the funniest people you’ll ever meet and then turns around and says something really fucked up and sobering so the whole mood of the room changes. Down for a road trip at a moment’s notice. Will say “I know a place.” and then take you to the most drop dead gorgeous waterfall you’ve ever seen in your entire life. Please be friends with a Sagittarius.

Capricorn: Workaholic but they like it. Has to have something to do or they feel worthless. Nihilist. Insanely diverse playlist. Works hard, plays hard. Drugs make things make sense. Takes everything seriously and doesn’t know how to enjoy relaxing but really really really wants to relax. Loves video games.

Aquarius: This sign is goofy as shit. Every Aquarius I know is really tall and has broad shoulders. This is the plug, always has access to the best shit and a wide variety of it. Can down a L of Henney and not even blink. Looks flawless. Will roll up with a blunt and just chill, never asks you to match. One of the kindest, most compassionate souls. Will walk 12 miles to your wedding. (The other one is a racist and we don’t talk about that one. Fuck that guy.)

Pisces: Dreamy, musician type. Has a pool in their backyard. Just buys another ashtray when the one they were using is full. Clean your freaking room dudes. Questionable conception. Ya mom was a freak. Chronic meditation. Just wants to fall in love. Needs frequent reassurance that they aren’t a waste of space.Generous, warm, fun people to chill with. I am very attached to my Pisces’. Time/distance does not diminish my (platonic) love for you, even if we have nothing to talk about anymore, I will throw hands for you in a second.

[veliseraptor]

Top five cnovel characters?

oh my god, well. okay. let’s see how this goes here, though I feel like I can’t parse out my novel character feelings for MDZS from my drama character feelings from CQL so like. I guess I just won’t try? or I could rule those out entirely which would also make things easier because I could occupy this list probably solely with MDZS/CQL characters.

but when do I ever make things easy for myself!

these are also thus far solely MXTX because I have yet to finish a full non-MXTX novel alas, though I am in progress!!! on two.

1. Hua Cheng. I feel like I could say this for everyone on this list and just summarize my taste in many ways which is to say “he’s a mess and I love him.” I just...I think Hua Cheng is probably my favorite love interest of MXTX’s three novels? He’s just got a combination of so many of the things that draw me toward a character: he’s an emotional disaster, simultaneously extremely arrogant and proud and with dismal self-esteem, very powerful but generally speaking doesn’t bother to flex it, a snarky bitch who lives for drama. He is just...I really wish we got more of his POV, because I would love to know everything that goes on in his head. Particularly because of the glimpses we get of when his “I am in control of everything and sort of above all this bullshit” facade gets cracked.

Love more of that.

2. Xue Yang. Look I feel like I’ve probably spilled more digital ink about Xue Yang than there is on the page and I do not care. Xue Yang is perfect and he’s done nothing wrong. He deserves all of the candy and his bedtime is never.

More seriously...just. There’s so much packed into Xue Yang’s character that...like, he’s not immediately or prototypically #mine in some ways, actually? Jin Guangyao is more so, on paper. And yet this fellow...saw him, took him home with me. Again - he’s a mess! Jagged edges and teeth and hunger and rage and absolutely vicious. He’s not nice and he’s not good and it is so easy to see what made him that way - how he broke and why he healed into the shape he did.

And just! The whole could’ve-been that is his development in Yi City and his relationship with Xiao Xingchen, the ways it taps into the themes that gut me about choice and chance and change, and whether people can be better than their worst selves, and why they so often aren’t...I’m crying about it. Constantly.

3. Jiang Cheng. When you come into a fandom for the main character and then end up latching on to secondary characters hardest....should’ve seen this coming, though, considering ‘younger sibling with inferiority complex issues’ is a pretty consistent thing of mine, and, again, Jiang Cheng is a mess and I love him. He’s not nice, he’s often outright mean, he doesn’t deal well with anything emotionally and his life is sort of a cascade of neverending misery with which he copes remarkably poorly. I’m so here for it, and for everything about him, and everything about the way he relates to his family.

Jiang Cheng is a bitch and I love him so much.

4. Mu Qing. Again here comes a character hitting a whole bunch of my buttons simultaneously and very hard! He’s ambitious, proud, prickly, people tend to not like him and he tends to not like them right back. He’s intensely loyal and cares a lot about his people but doesn’t show it well or almost ever. He’s ruthlessly pragmatic in ways that often look morally questionable. He’s lonely and determined to act as though he is no such thing.

Why wouldn’t I love him?

5. Xie Lian. Look at me! I can have a protagonist on this list! just one! Xie Lian is such a fascinating character to me because he’s not, like, Lise-bait in the way that some of these other characters are but he’s so important to me. I think because of the ways in which he’s very...ugh, I hate the “gentleness from trauma” in some ways but it works for me with Xie Lian because it’s not that he’s nice because he was traumatized, it’s that he tries to be kind/compassionate because he knows how horrible he can be if he’s not careful, if he loses control of himself. He knows what his worst self can look like, and he knows what his worst self cost, and he’s so scared of it happening again.

And just the ways he is also...he’s this beautiful mixture of hilarious and really really sad. And I think part of what gets me about him is the way that...he plays this role where he’s almost a fool, but it’s this very thin cover over very deep wells of feeling and also strength.

I’m not even totally sure why Xie Lian hits me so hard, but I know that he does.

this also feels like I’m betraying so many characters, though! I can think of so many more who I’m like “oh but you should make this list too D:” and if I let myself I’d keep arguing about it for a long time. I’ll just settled for making a list of

honorable mentions: Jin Ling, Wei Wuxian, Shi Qingxuan, Jin Guangyao, He Xuan, Xiao Xingchen, Shen Jiu, Yin Yu, Lan Xichen, I am absolutely certain I’m forgetting others also

projected future additions already well on their way: Mo Ran

[jiangwanyin]

(simply impossible to settle on 5 characters so here's 6 instead hjksgfjxc) wei wuxian, lan wangji, jiang cheng, xiao xingchen, lan xichen, and xue yang for 9, 11, 17… also a few of my own prompts: be a personal assistant for, go on holiday with?? 💖💕💗💌💘💞💖💗

ashleigh my loveeee thank you i would expect nothing less from you and i adore those prompts!!! 💓💖💕💗💘💖💕 also this probably goes without saying but impeccable character choices i love all six of them very much 😌

9. fake-married to for undercover reasons

oh i feel like wei wuxian would definitely be my best bet here, he'd probably be happy to and good enough at putting on a believable act just for the hell of it, we'd get along well & have a laugh about it, we're both relatively open and shameless so i doubt holding hands or being slightly over the top affectionate to sell the show would be too hard for either of us and a bit of bickering and me rolling my eyes at him would most likely just make it all the more realistic, that is unless lan wangji was anywhere nearby because he'd just make heart eyes at him and completely ignore me and we'd be found out in under a minute

xiao xingchen my beloved<3 we have similar enough ideologies and personalities to get along really smoothly, i feel like he'd be easy to fall into a sort of cozy domestic relationship with, he's a bit insecure but *cracks knuckles* that's something i can work with and he's probably a little less used to or comfortable with bigger public displays of affection but then again i didn't see him complain when xue yang put his hand on his ass after to his knowledge knowing him for approximately one day so we probably wouldn't run into any issues there either and we'd have a great time bonding over being insufferable idealists and having an incurable i can fix him disease!! sounds perfect to me

again, i don't think he's really the type to pretend but lan xichen would be equally ideal for this, he's great company, kind and compassionate and easy to get along with and he's patient and even tempered where i'm.... well, not either of those things so i like to think we're simultaneously similar enough and balance each other out alright to have a very harmonic dynamic going on, i'm not entirely sure how convincingly romantic it'd actually be but it'd work well enough and tbh we'd have a good time just hanging out (and just maybe i'd take trying to find ways to make the brilliant zewu-jun flustered as a challenge to spice things up a little<3)

okay realistically he should be a lot lower on this list because he'd probably just murder me and even if he didn't for whatever reason, i doubt it'd have a happy ending, but i just think xue yang and i would make a very interesting team and could probably manage a divorced couple giving reconciliation an attempt dynamic? meaning he'd try and hate me but i'd just channel my inner xiao xingchen ✨ apart from that i'm picturing a lot of arguing and agressive hand holding and getting unnecessarily competitive about it but it just might work. i think. possibly.

lan wangji. oh i love him but i just don't think we could pull it off, the thing is that i adapt pretty well to others, but if the other person is quiet to begin with, i just stay quiet too but you know, we'd be efficient about it? we'd make up for the lack of chemistry by having a good understanding of the other person and figuring out the situation quickly enough, i think we'd make a good team and the rest of the time would be spent reading in comfortable silence next to each other or something, he'd be too reserved and earnest (and let's be honest, too in love with wei wuxian) to do anything more or really pretend and i'm unfortunately way too similar and simply Not naturally good at being loud and easygoing at all if i'm not getting a certain energy from the other person and lan wangji bless him is just not one of those people

yeah yeah i feel really bad about this too but as much as i adore him, i just think jiang cheng would be objectively terrible at any sort of undercover thing and is far too emotionally constipated to act openly in love and too traumatized to even let me get close to him so it'd probably go atrociously, the only way i could see it being anything other than an utter disaster is barely tolerating each other or talking for two weeks, ending up in a tight spot together and bonding over something slightly mean like other people's incompetence and grudgingly realising that we actually get along alright and would probably both start putting a little more effort into the whole fake marriage thing but i still don't realistically think it'd look like anything more than a tentative friendship?

11. to drag them away from a big fight because they’re injured

xiao xingchen. no explanation here, i just think he deserves it and could do with someone taking care of him for a change<3

lan xichen for similar reasons 😇

wei wuxian, i don't trust him to know his limitations and if wen qing isn't around someone's got to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid and overexert himself

jiang cheng. the only reason he isn't any higher on the list is because i don't think he'd appreciate it much and would probably be way too proud and bitchy about it but honestly i'd rather die than admit weakness so i really can't blame him there

lan wangji, he's the smartest one of the lot and i trust him to know what he's doing so he wouldn't be my priority

xue yang. i love him but i also think he deserves to suffer a little and he's probably the one who started the whole fight so maybe this'll teach him how to deal with the consequences, he could do with that

17. cook dinner for

jiang cheng and wei wuxian, i'm lumping them in together here because they're always a package deal and should not be separated we all saw how that worked out (i'm not crying you're crying) and they're canonically shown to thoroughly enjoy a good home cooked meal, i doubt my dishes could compare to yanli's lotus and rib soup but i think they'd appreciate it regardless

arguably he doesn't deserve it but xue yang because i don't think a great many people ever cooked him dinner and it'd do him good with some obligatory candy to go with the meal afterwards of course<3

i think assuming we're friends, lan wangji would also be rather appreciative in his own quiet way? i'd probably make him something veggie based and considerably less spicy than for the yunmeng siblings and we'd go and feed the rabbits and possibly a tiny a-yuan with the leftover carrots :,)

xiao xingchen for reasons stated above. knowing him he'd probably even join me in the kitchen to lend a hand bless him

it feels unnecessarily rude to leave him till last but lan xichen, obviously it would be lovely to cook for him and hopefully he'd like it too i just don't have quite as strong feelings about this scenario involving him as i evidently do when it comes to some of the others 😳

be a personal assistant for

ooo definitely lan xichen i just know he'd be an amazing boss and would probably be incredibly understanding and helpful and tell me i'm doing a good job every time and we both know i thrive on praise and reassurance, jin guangyao had the right idea there, i think all of us could do with daily affirmations from lan xichen<3 nothing quite like it<3

xiao xingchen because working closely with him sounds very lovely and i wouldn't mind running errands or dealing with correspondence for him because he'd also be appreciative and kind about it

alright i'm not saying it'd be pleasant but jiang cheng because at least he's pretty reliable and organized and i would probably be very keen on trying to impress him but would undoubtedly get myself fired one week in because i'm also incapable of keeping my opinion to myself and do not enjoy being bossed about and make it vv obvious

lan wangji. he'd give clear instructions, have reasonable demands, maybe his expectations are a little high and the work environment a bit dry and i'd have to work hard but it'd probably pay off in the end?

just going by level of friendliness and how easy and enjoyable it'd be he should be higher on the list but i'm simply not flexible and easygoing enough to deal with wei wuxian's schedule and general messiness i'm afraid

xue yang because he'd frankly be quite likely to make me kill people for him and i do have a moral code to live up to so no thanks—

go on holiday with

alright these answers already feel very xichen-centric but i'm just going to have to say lan xichen yet again because i feel like we'd be into similar things and would probably have a great and very chill time sightseeing and relaxing together

similarly predictably xiao xingchen, i stand by him being absolutely lovely company and being able to find enough common interests with him too to have plenty to do that we'd both enjoy very much

lan wangji!! perfect quiet and reliable companion to go to museums and libraries etc with and with trustworthy organization skills no less!! no last minute changes to the plan or lost plane tickets or anything unexpected and we could just avoid crowds together which sounds like bliss, i might enjoy someone a tad bit more talkative which is why he's only in third place, but overall it sounds very peaceful and simultaneously productive, we'd definitely be able to tick everything off our list of things to see and do

alright so i don't think our general pace for doing things or ideal holiday destinations would match perfectly but i like to think i'd get along just fine with jiang cheng too, he'd be a bit annoying and we'd likely get equally agitated about delayed flights or bad customer service and whatnot so i'm not sure how relaxing it'd actually be but we'd probably find a couple of things to do we'd both enjoy and the rest of the time wouldn't mind doing things separately and then reuniting in the hotel and going out for dinner

i'm really sorry about this but wei wuxian, he's way too spontaneous and while we'd definitely have fun just hanging out, he'd be bored out of his mind after five minutes doing the stuff i like doing on holiday and i'm too antisocial and not remotely adventurously enough to enjoy the things he'd probably want to do but i do believe we'd find a suitable compromise, i mean he is married to lan wangji and compared to him i actually am quite sociable i swear

xue yang, i really do enjoy him as a character and with a stretch of my imagination i can definitely imagine situations where we would probably be alright unless he's feeling particularly homicidal but i simply don't think we have anything in common or that there's much of an overlap between what we imagine a good holiday to be like i'm afraid

give me 5 characters to rank in a situation

[starcityhq]

WHAT: The whole city is watching the following live feed of Joker and Superman. As the choice is put to Clark, he hesitates, and Joker shows Clark just how serious he is.

WHO: Superman & Joker

WHEN: January 31st, 2021

SUPERMAN: It had been nearly a year and a half since he'd left Metropolis behind and relocated to Star City, simultaneously shedding his acceptance and cooperation with the hero ban in order to wear the cape again. He'd made that first appearance in a big way, but after years of Superman being off the map, acceptance of his return wasn't granted automatically. Long weeks had passed before he got even a trickle of what he'd once known in Metropolis - people calling out to him, asking him for help because they knew that he would come. It built from there. For every cry for help he answered, for every appearance he made doing his own work or the League's, more came. Now he was back to listening constantly and sometimes having to make the choice of what he could respond to and what had to go to someone else.

So it wasn't strange when a sharp, panicked voice cut through the noise just the night after Lois, Kara, and the others had left the city. If anything, he welcomed the distraction. Without them around, he had nothing to focus on but work. Within seconds, he'd gone out the window of his apartment in a streak of blue and red. The voice, a young woman by the sound of it, seemed to be retreating out of the city. The closer he got, the further it seemed, and soon he'd left Star City behind altogether. Some kind of kidnapping. That had to be it. As long as he could still hear her, he could reach her.

On he went until most signs of civilization had dropped away on either side of him. There was still a road, the voice, and power lines, though. It turned out that he was following all three. When he finally reached what seemed to be the place he was searching for, it led him to a warehouse situated by itself. Trucks were parked outside, though he couldn't see anyone moving among them, and a glance through what walls he could see through yielded nearly nothing.

"Help me, Superman!"

He broke the lock on a loading dock door in order to get inside and continue his pursuit.

JOKER: It was all in place. Today, the curtain rose and the show would go on and Joker was elated. He'd get his little peanut back, he would teach Superjerk a lesson and deal with Batman's continual distraction all in one fell swoop. It was time, after the puppet show, to do something that really put him back on the map. After all, he was tired of NOVA stealing the regard and attention that was rightfully his. Plus, he was beginning to think that people underestimated him and he wasn't having it. Why should he? He'd simply make them all see what a mistake that was.

Luring out Superman was a simple task. These noble types were always trying to save someone. And so Joker had given him someone to save. Of course, there would be no one in the warehouse but he and Superman. He and Clark Kent.

The moment he breached the dock, Joker sat at the control panel. Flicking a switch, he brought the live broadcast that was currently playing all over the city away from his prerecorded message and onto the man himself. Another button on his controls and the room that Clark was in, a holding room between the dock and the main building that had been specially rigged for this purpose--he needed to give Chuckie boy a raise--sealed both doors and clicked shut.

"My my, here he is. The man of the hour. You got that cue without me even having to prompt you." Another button and a clear hissing began as a thick green aerosol suddenly filled the room. "And now we can get one with the show, can't we?" Leaning forward to speak into the mic, Joker grinned with a sinister edge as he asked, "Tell me, Superman... what do you fear?" If only Scary were here to play along. He'd have to do him justice.

SUPERMAN: The young woman's voice fell silent as he actually reached the building. He was still scanning the walls, already working through where to search first, when the doors closed audibly behind him. Clark turned, brows furrowed. Getting out of that would be easy enough, but that wasn't the concern. Someone was watching him. Power plant or no, he'd detected no sensors on the door, and the place wasn't sophisticated enough for that.

The voice that answered him just moments later made him set his jaw. "Joker. What-" There was no time to finish the thought. As the gas poured into the room, Clark immediately began to cough. The sensation was nearly instant, and part of it was familiar enough by then that he recognized it. Nothing made him feel the way Kryptonite did, and the realization was like having ice water in his veins. It worked through his body quickly enough to have him doubling over in mere moments. The question went unanswered, though his head was swimming.

JOKER: No response. Not fun. Well, he would show Joker what he feared. The gas would act quickly on him. Now, to start to escalate. The door in front of him opened and he gave a bright grin. “Aaaaand showtime.”

“How will you ever get out, Superman? I guess the only way is forward.”

SUPERMAN: One of the most profound effects of Kryptonite was how heavy it made him feel. The sheer exertion moving his own body was like dragging himself through thick tar. Everything seemed like it was in slow motion, and it was all painfully exhausting.

It didn’t take him long to realize that there was more to it this time. As soon the shadows danced at the edges of the doorway, his mind was already playing tricks on him. Whispers of voices, all familiar, filled his head as he took those first few steps toward the door.

This is all your fault, Clark. It was Lois, Jon, his parents, Kara, Bruce, Diana...so many...all variations on a theme. You did this. He’d just stepped through the door when he spoke aloud, seemingly unaware that he was responding to people not there. “I didn’t mean it!”

JOKER: "Oh dear oh dear," Joker answered. "I'm sure you didn't. Not at all." Joker flipped another switch, grinning as he did so. The lights dropped out into complete blackness before the strobing began--bright, white and oppressive. All the things he needed to watch Clark Kent writhe. "But sometimes good intentions come up short."

In front of Clark, another door opened as Joker watched intently, ensuring that his feeds captured it all.

SUPERMAN: Clark lifted one arm to try to shield his eyes from the light, which had him quickly pressed against one of the walls. It left spots in his eyes, furthering the disorientation that already had him reeling, and the voices grew louder still. He alternated between muttering what sounded like pleas and practically shouting, “I thought it was the right thing! I thought-“ and so it went, until one of the doorways and the pulsing shadows grew and twisted until it looked like a body on the ground. He didn’t recognize it right away.

His Ma’s voice came to him again, disappointed and deafeningly loud in his ears. “You were supposed to help these people, Clark, and all you did was abandon them. You abandoned all of them.”

Another staggering step forward, past the shadow that wasn’t a shadow, finally let him see its face. Lois. Clark stumbled backward, falling the rest of the way through the door.

JOKER: And with Clark in place, Joker couldn't help but laugh over the intercom system as he watched the infallible 'Man of Steel' crumble into a crying little boy. And it had been all too easy. It had just taken a little watching. A little knowing and scheming. Not difficult at all, really. And now they'd see just what the Joker could put on. Funny, he had thought he'd been showing them all along, but apparently they had needed a refresher. So here he was.

When the lights came up, there was a simple set up. Large screen on the far end of the room, and two podiums evenly spaced apart featuring big red buttons. Option A and Option B. Either was sure to make a splash.

"Now that we're all warmed up and our mind is playing fuzzy tricks, how about we play a game, Superman? Whaddya say?" Leaning into the mic, his voice dropped into something dangerous. "Give you a hint: the only answer is yes."

SUPERMAN: Once he’d managed to tear his gaze from the shadowy figure of Lois on the ground, he squinted toward the podiums. He felt sick, like his very bones hurt. It took tremendous effort to pick himself up from the floor and more effort still to try to focus and figure out what was happening. He couldn’t, really.

Clark shook his head and closed his eyes, not wanting to see anything there. It all kept distracting him. Even with his eyes closed, though, there were still voices. “No...games.”

JOKER: "Ahhh, see it wasn't really a choice," Joker said before his grin turned mean. "That's so irritating, isn't it? When someone takes your choices away? When they decide for you?" He watched Clark through the screen he had set up before finally reaching the crux. "I, unlike some people, am a compassionate man. I know how hard it is to be told no even if the thing I want is natural as, say, a father and his daughter. So here's what I'll do for you, buddy. I'm gonna give you a big choice. So pay attention."

"Behind door number one is obvious. Superman is a man of the people, isn't he? So of course we should show him what he loves." Click click and the screen displayed the gathering of people standing in the center of Star City with their faces fixed on the large screen he had erected earlier that day to do the largest part of the broadcast. Every smaller screen connected to the cable he'd hijacked would also be showing his performance, but this one was the most substantial. "Here's Star City, Superman. Would you do anything you could to save it?"

SUPERMAN: As the screen turned on and he saw the small crowd, Clark shot a panicked look back over his shoulder, but the body he’d seen before was gone. Lois wasn’t there. Tricks...just tricks...He shook his head, trying again to force himself to focus, but he could only manage it for seconds at a time. In those few seconds, Joker’s words settled in. Lucy...Lucy, Lucy, this was about Lucy...

He walked sluggishly toward the screen like he meant to reach up and touch it. You were supposed to help these people, Clark. “...Always.”

JOKER: “Yes yes, always. Always the hero, aren’t you Superman?” Superman had a different modus operandi than Batman, and Joker was far more accustomed to the less emotional and more stoic responses he received from Bruce. With Clark, it was all new experience. Still, improv was one of the highest forms of comedy, wasn’t it? He learned on the fly.

“But a choice’s not much of a choice with only one option, right? You see, you have door number one, but what could be behind door number two?“

With that, the screen in front of Superman changed, and before the audience’s very eyes, an image of Harley came up. But not just Harley, because that wouldn’t be much of a reveal, would it? After all, Harley was always with Joker. “I’ve come to learn,” he said, more for the benefit of the onlookers than Clark Kent, “that Superman is really more of a family man than any of us could ever have guessed. So yes, he’ll save the city, but always? I guess we’ll see, because here we have my lovely Harley Quinn with Gazette journalist, Lois Lane, known attachée of Superman himself. Then we have Supergirl. And since this is a family affair we couldn’t leave out the kids. Lois Lane’s son, Jon, and Supergirl’s own little bundle of joy, joining us for her first appearance. As you can see, Harley’s strapped them up with high grade explosives. The button for Choice B will set them off. And Choice A? Choice A will set off a little present delivered by Joker’s hands from NOVA’s hearts: a nuclear bomb that’s been planted right under the city. You can only save one, Superman. The family you have left or the city that depends on you. Choose neither and they both blow.”

He paused, long and dramatic for effect, before leaning into whisper: “So... what’s it gonna be?”

SUPERMAN: Clark had only just really focused his eyes on the screen and the faces of the citizens when it changed. Joker’s words didn’t matter, they didn’t even really fully sink in. As Lois, Jon, Kara, and Eva came into view, he moved forward with heavy, sluggish steps and reached up toward the screen as though it might disappear like a mirage.

The Kryptonite was still in full effect, and whatever else had been in that had his heart and mind already racing. Clark looked back to the open doorway again. The flickering lights made him wince, and the sickening fear and dread he felt quickly conjured up new images with them. Lois, again, with lifeless eyes, holding onto Jon whose face he couldn’t see. A blonde figure with its back to him that could only be Kara was similarly motionless. The darkness that should have been only shadow was blood instead, rapidly spreading across the floor until it was nearly touching his feet.

He left his spot in front of the screen and stumbled back toward the bodies that weren’t really there to kneel by them. His hands caught only air when he reached for them and he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. He’d made so many promises. Protect the city. Protect his family. He’d sworn to Kara not two days before that no one would hurt her, Eva, or any of them. He’d sent them all out of the city to prevent it, even. Sent them to...this. To Joker and Harley.

“You’re not getting away with this,” he said after what felt like ages of kneeling there on the floor, fighting for a brief hold on his own mind again. He glanced around the room for a second door, anything that might lead him somewhere else. If he could just...get back to the city...

JOKER: Joker watched, utterly rapt, as Superman pawed at nothing and--dear God, was he crying? These emotional types. He shook his head, but the words spoken only made him bark out a laugh. "Ha! Oh Supes... I already have gotten away with it. And I think you're aware of it, too. Now, are you going to choose in a timely fashion... or should I start a countdown?"

SUPERMAN: Clark set his jaw, refusing to let himself look at the ground again. Nothing there. Nothing there. But the feed on the screen had been real. His family needed him. The city needed him. “I’m not playing your game, Joker.”

And so he kept telling himself as he moved away from the podiums and the horrible visual of Harley with the people he cared about most. When he found no new door, he threw himself against the wall instead. Again, and again he did it until he felt the ache of it run all down his arms and legs. The Kryptonite had left him weak enough that he couldn’t do more than that. He slammed a fist against it, pointlessly, and clenched his eyes closed again. So many people depending on him. If he stalled...if he stalled, maybe someone would figure it out.

JOKER: "Oh that's a shame. No one likes a spoilsport, Supes. But I'm a man who does love a good twist." The screen split into two, one side showing the city where people looked fearfully to the billboard or incited panic through panic themselves. The other showed Superman's family. Between them, a counter began, starting generously from 100 and counting down.

He seemed a bit too cognitive for Joker's liking. He hadn't been able to test the doses, after all. Fortunately, he had planned for that too.

The door on the far end of the room opened for the space of about two seconds, hidden by Superman beating against the wall. A telltale hiss was the only precedent to another dose of the gas.

"Now that you're good and doped up yet again, Superman, I think we'll try this again," the Joker said, leaning forward. The suspense was killing him. "Either you make a choice for me, or that timer gets to zero and both the city and your beloved Superbrats go Ka-Boom. Even the sweet little baby."

SUPERMAN: Clark looked only briefly at the screen again, long enough to see his son's face and Eva's. He didn't need to look at Lois. He knew the expression she wore. Determined. Probably angry. There was nothing in the world she hated more than feeling helpless, was there? But she wouldn't be able to get them out of this. Joker wasn't the type to hesitate, and if Harley was far gone enough to put even Eva in that room with them, then she was no solace. They'd kept her daughter safe, even if it had been apart from her, and this was the response.

The number started to count down and the first few seconds ticked horribly by before the gas deployed a second time. It was so much worse than the first one. The effect of the Kryptonite was crippling, but that was nothing compared to where his mind went. As Joker spoke, it was like the words willed those things into reality. Clark could hear the explosions and the screams, the dust from fallen buildings that weren't really there was choking. He could hear people calling for him, just like the voice that he'd followed to the power plant. Superman, save us!

But even those desperate cries were nothing to what he saw when he looked at the side of the screen again where his family waited. It was an unspeakable thing, the vision that he had. His heart was beating so loudly in his ears that the sound of it eclipsed everything else, and several precious seconds ticked by as he stood paralyzed by the things that he was seeing that weren't really there. They weren't there, but they would be. They would be if he didn't do something.

JOKER: The longer Superman stalled, the more exciting it caught. "The fear gas makes it hard to think, doesn't it Supes?" he asked gleefully. "But you're strong, aren't you? You'll have to push through it." His Harley girl had. Helped him gauge the dose, too. If she could do it, Superman could do it.

"You're losing time, pal. One or the other. Or both, if you're willing to go for maximum carnage. Never took you for the type but there's surprises everywhere, aren't there?"

SUPERMAN: On the other side of the split screen, he could see people moving away. Running? Running, waiting to be saved...If he didn’t, how many people would die? Clark closed his eyes against the screen, the room, Joker’s disembodied voice, and all he was greeted with was the sound of screaming again. The air felt like it was burning around him, and something (no, someone) clutched at his ankle in a desperate, panicked way.

When he opened his eyes again it was to the red glare of the timer, down to a minute. Eva was crying on the other half of the screen, her tiny face scrunched up and afraid. He could feel bile rise in his throat with a sickening burn. If he let them die- No sooner had it entered his mind than he saw it again, as horrifying as before. Lois said his name before the explosives were triggered, and it rang in his ears. Harley clapped her hands next to them, shrieking with glee.

The room came back into focus again and he found himself clutching the sides of the screen.

JOKER: "Tick tock, tick tock," Joker cut in at Clark's little meltdown. "This is all very touching, Superman, but I don't think you realize how serious I am. How about a little demonstration?"

He had anticipated, after all, that this might happen. That the Man of Steel may be paralyzed by his own fear and what Scary liked to call the Trolley Problem. Joker had thought of that and now he had a way to sweeten the pot. Or sour it. It was all the same to the clown, who simply wanted a bit of fun. Well, Harley would get her fireworks. He had rigged some for this twist, should he need it. "Everybody loves a good plot twist," he said before hitting a button on the control panel which would signal his boys to hit an even larger button within Star City.

Said button was attached to a detonator and that detonator was rigged to a number of fireworks and charges that were connected right to Liberty Bridge. "Watch the birdie, Superman," he said with a laugh as he slammed another button to abruptly change the screen from Star City and Superman's family to the bridge, where hundreds if not thousands of people were currently trying to get out. Silly silly. Didn't they know that Fate had a funny--frankly hilarious way--of getting what she wanted?

"Boom."

[cecilspeaks]

169 - The Whittler

Let us go then, you and I When the evening is spread out Against the sky And pick up some Dell Taco for dinner. Welcome to Night Vale.

Beyond our town, past the Sand Wastes, in the Scrublands, sits the old general store. An oaken cabin style A-frame with boxed windows and a covered patio. On the porch there sits a swinging bench and upon that bench sits an elderly man, his face crumpled like a discarded letter, his eyes like tire tracks hidden beneath the shady brim of a straw cowboy hat. The old man holds a block of Elmwood the size of a potato in his right hand, and in his left, a carving jack. He whittles away at the knot of food, shaving off small corners, making detailed lines and indentations. The wood is all his world. And this world is quiet in his lap, on his bench, on his patio, before his general store amid the Scrublands past the Sand Wastes, which curl about Night Vale like the gentle but calloused hands of a father holding a newborn. As the old man whittles, he whistles sad songs with no words. But all those who hear the notes know they are bout loss. That they are about loneliness. But no one hears those notes. Not yet. No one sees the old whittler, nor his general store far out in an uninhabited stretch of desert. Not yet. If they did, they would wonder how an old general store, which was not there yesterday, was suddenly here today, a shop that by all accounts had weathered decades of abusive heat, wind, and isolation. They would hear his sad song, and the universal language of wistful sorrow would hide from them their understanding of time.

Let’s have a look now at sports. This Saturday night, the Night Vale High School Scorpions basketball team begins the district tournament. The Scorpions, having finished the season 18-2, earned the number 1 seat this year, but face some tough competition in their bracket. In the first round, they must battle another basketball team. This is logical, because most basketball tournaments feature other basketball teams. But the other basketball team is considered weaker than the Night Vale Scorpions, because a series of accumulated numbers indicates this is so. Should the Scorpions make it out of the first round and into the semi-finals, they would likely battle the number 4 seed, Nature. A tougher matchup to be sure, as Nature is unpredictable and ubiquitous. Nature’s style of play is best described as capricious and random, sometimes showcasing an array of flashy skills like sunny days, crystalline lakes, and otters. But Nature is a lockdown defensive force with effective momentum stoppers like lightning, quicksand, and poison ivy.

And in the finals, the favorites to compete for the title are Night Vale High School versus themselves, perhaps the toughest battle of them all, as each player must confront their harmful secrets, painful pasts, and darkest nightmares. Themselves are able to match the pace and power of Night Vale’s offensive and defensive sets, and we expect an excellent game. Good luck, Scorpions!  

Most days the Scrublands are absent of humans, unapproachable and hostile. Today is not most days, as a line of Night Vale citizens has formed outside of the general store to see the old whittler and his wood menagerie. Parents ask for photos of their children with his work, and he only whistles and nods nearly imperceptibly. It could almost be interpreted as a slight twitch of the neck, rather than an affirming nod, but interpretations grow liberal when want is high.

Fathers and mothers snap pictures on their phones of children accepting gifts of wood figurines from the old man. The kids stare into the thin black ellipses that pass for his eyes, searching for the charming smile of elderly approval. But instead, seeing every single constellation of the night sky inside slits as thin as thistles and as black as tar. The historic expansion of the universe cannot be fully understood in words or even human thought, but it can be comprehended in the eyes of the tanned, wrinkled stranger.

The old whittler does not charge a penny for any of his work. He does not smile nor accept the many thank-yous coaxed out of the young ones by their manner-minded handlers. Nor does he accept requests. Children have many mascots, heroes, and cartoons that they love to possess via keepsake totems, and they repeatedly ask the old man for whittled representations of their favorite things, like Pokemon characters or one of Pixar’s anthropomorphic cars, or even Ted Allen, host of Food Network’s long running cooking competition “Chopped”. But the old whittler only carves what he carves. And he carves tiny horses, little cowboys, old-timey wagons, armadillos, tigers, tractors, almost anything you can think of. He finishes his sculpture of a koala bear and hands it to Amber Akinyi, who looks at her husband Wilson Levy, who is holding their sobbing, screaming 16-month-old baby Flora. The couple smiles together, never knowing that this balsa koala is everything they could have ever wanted beyond a loving family. Wilson begins to cry at the simple beauty of this craft. Amber begins to cry at the feeling of being understood, and young Flora stops crying as she fawns over the 6-inch tall antipodean marsupial, cartoonishly gnawing on a eucalyptus leaf.

The whittler also carves people. Small human figures, yes, like firefighters and ballerinas and clowns, but also actual people. Harrison Kip told the old man he wished to be happier in his own skin, and the old whittler grabbed Harrison’s cheeks and brought Harrison’s round, soft face before his own crinkled countenance, and Harrison screamed. He screamed in fear of what the old man was about to do. He also screamed in joyous anticipation, and the two screams were discordant like adjacent keys pressed simultaneously on a church organ. The old whittler pressed his knife against Harrison’s chin and began to pull the blade back, using the force of his thumb and the trunk of his forefinger. He repeated throughout Harrison’s assenting and defiant shouts, and after a few moments, Harrison stopped yelling and stood. His jaw squarer, his nose thinner and longer, his shoulders broader. And Harrison smiled.

Soon, the whittler began carving houses, roads, and city buildings. They were larger than the koala, much larger, for they were full-sized renditions of these things. He sliced and sawed away at block after block of red oak, hackberry and peachwood, forming new arteries of city travel, whole blocks of residences, and even cultural landmarks and venues. And the town of Night Vale, in a single late morning, began to expand into the distant and uninhabitable Scrublands of our desert.

Let’s have a look now at horoscopes. Gemini. Bury yourself in your work today, Gemini. Pile that garbage high and rest your weary head beneath its odorous, but comforting weight. Cancer. No more Mr. Nice Guy, Cancer. Today you are Mrs. Disinterested Lady. Get out there and be uninvolved in everything. Leo. You’re the talk of the town, Leo. Word after word is about you, and it is juicy! Like a rare steak, like a blood orange. Juicy like 2008 coutoure. Whew! You should hear what they’re saying. Virgo. You are not what you seem to be, Virgo. You seem to be a blackberry shrub, overreaching and prickly. But really you are a human, squishy and small. Continue to be the thorny fruit-bearing bush, though. Libra. You seek balance, Libra, but you are as lopsided as wealth disparity graph in an economist’s classroom. Share your worth, distribute your value fairly and compassionately, Libra, for the villagers are sharpening their tools. Scorpio. Hey Steve, love you pal! 

Sagittarius. Your (-) [0:10:42] in relationships is going to be your downfall, Sagittarius. You’re an obsidian monolith, towering over everyone, absorbing all light, except the faint reflection of those who want to know what glows inside your stony façade. You don’t have to be a diamond, Sagittarius, or even quartz. Just try for salt lick, OK? I think you can achieve that. 

Capricorn. Oh the games you play, Capricorn, you wicked little sea goat! You naughty caprine ocean dweller with your horns and scales, vexing us with your riddles and labyrinthian logic! The stars offer no advice for you, Capricorn, only envious praise. Aquarius. Put your money where your mouth is, but wash that money first, Aquarius. It’s been in so many other people’s mouths, ever since we added Jolly Ranchers as legal currency. Pisces. You’re swimming upstream, Pisces. Figuratively speaking, of course. I mean you are a human who does not need to actually swim upstream for food or a mate. Get out of the metaphorical stream and avoid the damage you’re going to do to your body and soul. Except for you, Tim. You’re a woodchuck, who is literally swimming upstream. I don’t like you, Tim, because you are eating my tulips. You can drown. Aries. Fake it til you pretend to make it, Aries. Taurus. Don’t hide your feelings, Taurus! Frame them! Display them ostentatiously on the wall. Mount them on plinths behind velvet robed (-) [0:12:33]. Curate an exhibit of your feelings, Taurus. Charge admission.

And now the news. The Night Vale City Council deliberated today on whether the old whittler in front of the old general store in the Scrublands was friend or foe to our town. Those voices arguing in favor of the old man celebrated the huge municipal expansion he was creating so quickly onto undeveloped land. 

“This new infrastructure would have taken us dozens of years and millions of dollars to deploy, and he has accomplished it all in half day!” these voices said in unison. “Plus,” they added, “he whittled a little army man for my kid, a bracelet for my wife, and a sweater for our cat. It’s everything we ever wanted!”

The dissenting voices, and they were few, could only argue that he failed to acquire proper permits for any of this construction, let alone an outdoor vendor’s license which is mandatory even for giveaways. Excepting restaurant samples, marketing promotions, and military dispersion of chemtrails. The many-voiced, uni-bodied creature that is the City Council, huffed in nearly unanimous support for this old man. His sad whistling, his prolific whittling, and his beneficence to our city. “Did you see?” said there of the voices, “that inside the general store there’s everything you could ever need. Cans, boxes, shelves, counters! Walls. It’s amazing. Everything is craved from a single block of wood, and it’s all connected! No glue or bolts or rivets anywhere.” “He’s a deft hand,” concurred four other voices. “How does he even find single blocks of wood that huge?” wondered a solo voice aloud. “Whatever!” the entire City Council roared in unison. “That old man is a superb whittler!”

And now financial news. [hysterical laughter Ha ha hahahaha hahaha every-everything’s fine! It’s just dandy! Uh, thank you for asking.

And now back to our top story. Out in the Scrublands, an entire wooden suburb has grown from the withered hands and sharp knife of the old whittler, who has for the first time today, moved from the porch of his general store. He stands now upon a stage, a round platform on the center of a great amphitheater, which he personally carved deep into the cracked, red rock of the desert floor. The people of Night Vale gather and sit on wood plank rows, which curve in a semi-circle around the old man on the stage. Each person in attendance holds in their hands a whittled object given to them as they entered the audience space. The items are all different, esoteric, and unique, each item and unexpected gift of the whittler. Each item the very thing they have always wanted, even if it was never what they thought they wanted. They hold gently their presents, protecting them with their very lives. The whittler, with his straw hat still shading his keyhole eyes and riverbend mouth, stands before the people of Night Vale who sit in an arena of his own making, each cradling a beloved statuette of his own making. The old man reaches out and takes the hand of his bride. She, of course, is of his own making as well. She is craved of weeping cedar. Her veil, though entirely wood, is somehow translucent, and her sorrowful eyes are faintly visible behind the intricate work of the whittler’s blade. The old man whistles once again, and the crowd whistles along with him. They know the song now. It lives in them like longing, like blood. Like a soul. They know every word of the wordless (-) [0:16:51], and the notes of loneliness spread across the Scrublands to the mountains’ edge and echo back in the key of hope, with a lilt of contentment and satisfaction. They will only be happy when he is happy and he is, indeed, happy. As the whittler clutches the hand of his newly carved betrothed, the clouds part, revealing the happiest thing of all: The weather.

[“Embroidery Stars” by Carrie Elkin http://carrieelkin.com/]

Into the Scrublands I went, myself already as happy as I could ever be for I was with my own true love, my husband. I journeyed to see the whittler for myself, as an effort of journalism, a chronicler of interesting events. I wanted for nothing. My happiness cannot be improved. Or so I believed.

When I arrived, the whittler more than 100 feet a way, and through a mass of thousands, greeted me with a nod so unobtrusive, I believed it to be a trick of the eye. But from the distance, I could see the whole of the universe in those dark eyes under dark shadow, behind the final violet of sunset. I knew he meant me.

Carlos and I stepped to the podium, and the old man opened his palm to reveal an original carving just for me. I had hoped it was a Nintendo Switch, but it was a [sea plane] [0:23:05]. Carlos, like a child on Santa’s lap, cooed and asked the old man for a superconductive supercollider. And the old whittler, his burlap cheeks heavy with gravity and history, reached into the breast pocket of his (-) shirt and handed Carlos a tiny wooden rose. Carlos hugged his rose to his chest, and I my (sea plane). The whittler took the hand again off his bride and gazed upon her, her veiled eyes met by his boundless stare. They stood like that for more than an hour, not speaking. The only sounds were the cicadas chirping and the crowd whistling.

But the tune faded, and soon only the cicadas cut through the silence of a still desert twilight. And one of us, Larry Leroy, stood and walked on to the stage. He touched the old man’s shoulder. The old man did not turn. He did not speak. He collapsed into black ash. Then his bride, then the seats beneath us, it all gave way to crumbling nothing. Then the buildings and roads and even the general store turned into ash. Finally, every one of our object dissipated, like Eurydice almost free from Hades. A gentle cool breeze arrived to sweep our hope away.

We returned home, wordless, with occasional whistles of the whittler’s tune, once again in a sad and lonesome key. Our cherished gifts, we told ourselves, were nothing more than baubles, ephemera, however blessed or magical. They were mere things, not love, not family, not true love, they were objects, toys. Props. Distractions. They were everything we have ever wanted, because we could hold them, see them, touch them. We can no longer do that, but we can remember what it was like. The rough of the wood against the soft of our hand.

Stay tuned next for our new game show: “Name all the nouns!”

And as always, good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Give a man and a fish and he’ll wonder what your deal is. Teach a man to fish and he’ll ask you once again to please leave him alone.

[suckerfordeansfreckles]

For the trope fic numbers 3 & 33 please :)

3 & 33: Modern AU & Baby Fic - after one million years, I finally filled this prompt! I hope you guys enjoy it and some of you might be able to relate to Dean (and me) lol

Out of this World (read on AO3)

Dean can’t explain what it is about men with children, especially small ones, but they do things to him. 

They make him… feel all soft and gooey. Make him want a partner and a child running around his too-empty house, making his life a little louder and more colorful.

Just regular men, with dad bods, pushing strollers and cooing to their small, chubby, red-cheeked babies. It’s absolutely ridiculous and he can’t explain it at all, but… Regular men with babies already make him weak. 

And then there’s his neighbor, Cas.

Cas is — Cas is out of this world. 

They used to talk a lot more, back before Cas got custody of Claire. He’s an awesome guy, intelligent, sweet, compassionate, friendly, funny and just so good. They spent time with each other, hanging out in their gardens and living rooms, having dinner and drinking beer by Cas’ pool. Then Cas told him about his ex, about the baby that will be with him in a few months. Dean even helped him paint the room he conveyed to a nursery. They were friends. Dean was so close to asking him out… to try for more.

But then Cas took in Claire, and all his time and energy had to be on this little bundle of life. Obviously. Doesn’t mean Dean misses him less, though. And now, when Cas walks by his house, it’s not only just his gorgeous, hot friend — but also Cas, a soft and caring and sweet father to a tiny, cute baby.

Cas is walking by again this morning, and Dean just stepped outside to grab his mail, still in his pajamas on this fine Saturday. And now he’s standing and staring, again, he knows he is. But there, across the lawn, is Cas. Castiel Novak, single parenting a seven-month-old girl named Claire seemingly like he was made for it. 

He’s got Claire strapped to his chest, rocking her gently while he walks, her tiny blonde head against his chest. He has one big, broad hand on her back, the other one gripping a half-empty bottle of milk while simultaneously pushing the stroller in front of him with the hand not patting Claire’s back. 

His hair is ruffled like crazy, he hasn’t shaved in a while, and there is a questionable stain on his jeans on left thigh — and Dean absolutely fucking loses his mind. How in the world is this guy even real. How is he this cute when he looks like an absolute mess.

What the actual —

Dean misses his last step down on his way to the mailbox and ends up stumbling along his driveway, cheeks burning up with embarrassment. He hopes Cas didn’t catch it, just keeps his eyes on the floor and swiftly walks towards his mailbox when —

“Hello, Dean,” he hears, in that low, growly voice that has him weak in the knees. 

“Oh, Cas, hey there!” He stutters, sending Cas his biggest smile. He’s close now, so close that he comes to a stop in front of Dean, still raising up onto his toes and down again to keep rocking Claire. Dean tries to take a breath, but it ends up shallow and gasping. “How are you? How’s our sweetest girl?”  

“Oh, she — we haven’t had the best few days, to be honest,” Cas says softly and his hand is still gently patting her back. “Claire has been having tummy troubles, so I kind of have to keep rocking her, or she’ll start crying again. It started yesterday morning, her doc assured me that it’s nothing out of the ordinary. But she just… I can’t put her down.”

Cas looks miserable, suddenly, tired and drained, but when he looks down at his daughter, a loving smile stretches across his face. 

“I’m sorry, dude, do you — Do you need help? I’d be more than happy to help, I mean, if you trust me with her, I don’t, um,” he stumbles over his words, ears surely bright red. 

“Yes,” Cas blurts, before Dean can stutter out more. “Yes, please, if you’re serious about this. I… I would love a shower. If you’d really take her for a bit?”

Dean sends him a smile, genuine and wide, and nods. And that settles it.

He steps forward, takes the stroller from Cas and pushes it until they reach Cas’ porch. It’s only when he steps through the door behind Cas and toes off his shoes that he realizes that he’s still in his pyjamas, but Cas doesn’t seem to care, so Dean tries to tamp down his embarrassment and follows Cas into the living room.

It’s not quite like he remembers, there’s no alcohol around, there are safety stickers on the edges of the coffee table, fuzzy carpets all over the floor. Chew toys on the table, baby blankets spread out on the couch. Dean knows he’s ridiculous, but it kind of melts his heart. Cas is doing so well with Claire, and Dean is weirdly proud. He remembers quite a few drunken nights of Cas sharing his worries. None of them came to be true, just as Dean assured Cas it would be.

“Dean, are you sure? This is a little much, to ask,” Cas says, as he steps towards the couch and unbuckles the straps holding Claire against his chest. 

“Hey,” Dean says, as soft as he can. Claire is gurgling quietly, but she doesn’t sound unhappy. “You know I like you, I care about you — you two. If holding her for a little while and allowing you a shower is what you want, I’m here. I’d love to hold her, too.” 

Cas’ answering smile is so soft, it has Dean’s heart skipping a few beats. And then he hands Claire to Dean, and it takes a few minutes of carefully shuffling her, but he eventually manages to hold that tiny squirming bundle against his chest in a way that is both safe and healthy, according to Cas. 

He doesn’t dare carry her while walking through the room, the way Cas suggests, but he carefully sinks down on the couch with Claire and rocks her in his arms. 

She’s wrinkling her small nose, tiny fingers grabbing and holding onto Dean’s shirt, and Dean’s heart burns in his chest. He barely notices when Cas leaves for the shower, can’t tell how much time passes until he steps back in. The fact that his hair is still damp, that he’s wearing sweatpants and a wide shirt that slips down his shoulder, shows his collar bone — that’s the only thing that manages to pull his attention from Claire for a little while.

“She really likes you,” Cas whispers, looking down at where Claire is sleeping in Dean’s arms. “I’m impressed.”

“I really like her, too,” Dean answers, smiling as he shifts to the side to allow Cas to sit down next to him. He’s not sure what makes him say the next words, maybe the warmth of Claire in his arm, maybe the softness of his heart. “I really like you, too.”

Cas looks up abruptly, eyes wide and smile wavering. “You — Even with Claire?”

“Yes. Especially with Claire,” Dean smiles up at Cas, hope burning in his stomach, and then he carefully leans a little closer.

Cas bites his lip, and then he leans in, over Claire, and plants the softest of kisses on Dean’s mouth. He makes a soft noise, low in his throat. “I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” he whispers, kissing Dean again.

“Yeah? Me too,” Dean replies, dazed and happy and warm.

“I would like to continue this — But first, if you don’t mind, I’d like to let you hold her a little longer and take a quick nap? I will be much more entertaining once I got an hour of sleep,” Cas chuckles, and before Dean can protest — not like he would ever decline the opportunity to hold Claire a little longer, to help Cas a little more — he shuffles down until he’s sinking   into the couch and his head is pressing against Dean’s thigh. 

“Good night, Dean. Thank you. I really like you too.”,“ Cas murmurs, and then he closes his eyes and dozes off in a heartbeat. 

And leaves Dean with a wildly beating heart and Claire babbling in his arms. And he has never felt better.

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[jackoshadows]

Sometimes I think about Jon Snow in the books and I feel sad for all the wasted potential of the show version. List of things Jon does in the books:

-  Jon personally keeps track of wheat, barley and veggies in the stores. Realizes that the situation is dire and

negotiates with the Iron Bank and gets a loan to buy food. He's a shrewd businessman and diplomat. Takes belongings from the Freefolk to buy food. He's pretty ruthless. Plans to build greenhouses in the Gift. An innovative thinker.

-  Jon is able to look past societal strictures - maybe due to his own bastardy and because of how Arya was treated by society.

He Garrisons an entire castle on the wall, Long Barrow, with spearwives. But unlike the show, he also sets women to cook, sew and clean. Hires Satin, a male prostitute as his steward despite opposition. Saves several thousand Wildlings by making the argument that they too belong to the realm.

- Jon Snow likes information

Reads books that Maester Aemon and Sam left behind to understand the threat of the WW. Actually put wights into ice cells as a science experiment to study how they come alive.

- Jon is intelligent

King Stannis seeks him out for advice. Jon plans Stannis' entire Northern campaign - how to attack, where to attack. He also gives Stannis step by step details on how to win over the Mountain clans diplomatically. Jon nullifies the Karstark threat against Starks/Stannis by marrying Alys to the Magnar and simultaneously bringing the FreeFolk into the Northern fold. Jon pretty much outwits Roose by playing the game from the wall.

- Jon the diplomat

Has successfully negotiated with King Stannis, Tycho Nestoris from the Iron Bank, Wildling leader Tormund and mountain clans in the North. The key word being 'Successful'.

- Jon can be ruthless

Plays Janos Slynt into disobedience and takes off his head. Puts Karstark prisoners to freeze in the Ice cells. Separates Gilly from her child using threats to the child's life. Takes the Freefolk children as hostages to ensure good behavior and convinces the mountain clans that he would chop off the heads of children if push comes to shove.

Now, Jon has his flaws - his refusal to reach across the aisle and compromise with the heads of the different departments at the watch, breaking the rules and embroiling the NW in matters of the realm, his disastrous campaign in Hardhome, his isolation from the men, not understanding how bad things were getting and failing to unite the Watch - these were all things that eventually resulted in his downfall. Actions have consequences in the books.

But ultimately Jon was a complex, intelligent, forward thinking character wanting to do his duty by Westeros and at the same conflicted by wanting to save his sister and Winterfell from the Boltons.The human heart in conflict with itself.

And then we get show Jon Snow, whose one defining characteristic - as per D&D - is that he knows nothing. Show Jon needs Sansa's advice for defense, battles, ruling, politics - everything. Because show Jon only knows how to fight.  Are we supposed to appreciate Jon’s diplomatic victory in getting Dany North to help them?  Yeah, no. We are now told that he’s just an idiot in love with a tyrant and smart Sansa has to use her huge brain to save everyone from Dany.

I keep seeing, again and again, essays on how D&D's misogyny trashed the female characters in favor of the male characters. Here's the thing - D&D’s toxic masculinity, misogyny and sexism trashed both the male and female characters. on GOT.  

In order to justify their season 5 Sansa rape plot, they entirely trashed Jon's character to say - Look! We told you there's a reason for the season 5 Sansa plot. She's now smarter than everyone in Westeros because of that plot - even including dialogue for Sansa where she says this.

There's a reason that the only so called 'intelligent' male characters on the show are Tyrion, Sam and fingerless Davos. Because if one is able bodied, the only thing a man is good for is swinging a sword around, not his brains. Women like Dany, Arya and Brienne who lead armies and fight are also not smart. Only feminine women who wield soft power are smart. That's D&D's toxic masculinity.

It's funny how often Jon and Dany are compared in fandom in essays about GOT’s sexism, when D&D themselves compare Dany and Sansa in commentary and interviews.  Look at Sansa crying over ordering LF's execution - is she not compassionate and good? Look at Dany showing no emotion when executing the Tarlys? Is she not bad?  

D&D’s fucked up views means we get Tyrion thinking that Cersei can be redeemed because she's a mother despite blowing up hundreds in the Sept. Tyrion thinking that Dany is a monster who cannot be redeemed because she's not a mother and will never be one. Karsi unable to fight anymore because she sees some dead children. Varys’ argument was not that Jon is a better, stronger leader than Dany . Varys’ argument was that Jon was too weak against strong Dany and that strong Dany was bad.

As someone else mentioned, D&D think they are feminists who are writing about ‘strong female characters’ and the 'upending of the patriarchy' as Lena Headey put it. But their opinions about women are so medieval, sexist and trashy that it basically led to all the characters - male and female - getting some really garbage, terrible writing.  

[arcane-sync]

So this thought has been sitting on me today, so I'm going to try to put it into words. It's one of those things that was exceptionally hard for me to really get in my recovery, so if you dont want to deal with hard concepts right now, I suggest moving on. Its one of those things that makes sense, but it hurts to hear if you are used to functioning in a certain way.

Self hatred is not a form of gratitude or apology. If person A has done something nice like an act of service for person B, it makes the relationship incredibly difficult to navigate if they respond with "oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, i cant believe I didnt do that already, I'm such an idiot, I'll do it next time i swear." Bonus points for difficulty if person B starts crying.

And like, I GET that reaction. Painfully so. That is a trauma reaction from abusive environments growing up, and I get it. I have reacted that way hundreds of times. I am so guilty of this that it hurts.

But person A was genuinely trying to do something nice for person B. There was no implicit guilt trip involved. It was probably more "I noticed you were struggling and stressing over getting this thing done, so I did it for you." Its an expression of love. They wanted to see person B relax and smile. Instead, they appear to have made everything worse. A thank you never happens.

An even harder situation is if person A notices person B is struggling to get something done (say struggling in with basic house chores like cleaning up after themself), so person A gently tries to address it with person B and person B implodes in self hatred. This is really important in people who live together, as someone failing to take care of themselves and living area can impact the person they're living with. Person A might be frustrated but is ultimately trying to help, trying to figure out whats wrong, trying to be supportive. Person B has most likely been acutely aware of the thing not getting done and is so buried in self hatred that they dont know what to do. No thank you is given for being willing to address the issue, no apology is ever given for the thing not getting done. Just panicked appeasing of person Bs implosion.

Trauma reactions are uneblievably difficult to conquer. But this is one worth focusing on. And im not trying to guilt anyone who does this. If you react this way, then chances are reading this is making you feel guilty inherently. Its OKAY to struggle. Its okay if trauma is eating you alive, choking your throat, and clouding your mind. I want to reiterate ITS OKAY and a PERFECTLY understandable reaction.

Whats not okay is never trying to fix it. For abandoning any idea of trying to fix it. This reaction can really strain relationships in even the most compassionate people. Especially long term.

Quite honestly speaking, this is probably why I had a really hard time keeping friendships for the first 20 years of my life. I burnt out the people around me. And I have slowly, very slowly learned to forgive myself for that. I was struggling from immense trauma, and things just sort of play out certain ways on the way to recovery. It doesnt make it okay. It doesnt mean I didnt hurt those friends. But I get it. I get that I was an exasperating person to deal with. I get that I had reacted violently so many times to the most gentle things that people became SCARED to help me, support me, do nice things for me, approach me at all. I get it. I have worked to fix it, and I have forgiven myself for the pain I caused. I have apologized to these people where I can. I have taken that anger directed at myself, and I have directed it at my abusers instead.

I am responsible for my own actions yes. 100% But I can also simultaneously recognize that my actions were heavily influenced by things that were done to me that I had no control over. I can be angry at my abusers, mourn the loss of those friendships, apologize for those actions, and work on myself all at the same time. Without hating myself.

I am still learning when to say thank you and when to say I'm sorry. Sometimes I still react violently, but rather than lay that reaction on the people around me, I have learned to calm down on my own, and THEN communicate what it was that upset me so. When I couldnt calm myself down and needed the other person to help, i have still waited to situate my thoughts first before talking to them about the problem.

Communicating through both rational and irrational thoughts and emotions is one of the hardest things to learn. And im still learning. But its WORTH working on, no matter how hard it is. The family you have made for yourself LOVES YOU. They wouldn't be there if they didnt. So dont give up on yourself, cause they havent either. I am learning to love myself enough to fix myself, if not FOR myself then for the people I love. And when I see someone else doing the same negative reaction over and over, I do my best to have both compassion for their struggle and support them AND compassion for myself enough to take care of myself.

[kurowrites]

Like Me

Because I’m obviously horrible at working at the tasks I should be working on, I wrote a short coda for Smile for Me.

Just.... goo.

---

Wei Ying had been wriggling around on Lan Zhan’s bed for a while, trying to find a comfortable position. Lan Zhan watched him from where he was folding his clothes, until he finally settled and smiled at Lan Zhan happily.

Lan Zhan never got tired of the sight. Wei Ying, comfortable on his bed, his hair loose, wearing a shirt stolen from Lan Zhan. Wei Ying, sometimes making strange noises to catch Lan Zhan’s attention and demanding kisses and cuddles when Lan Zhan finally looked up from the book he had been reading or the task he had been doing. Wei Ying, sleepy and refusing to get up, refusing to go home, and exactly where Lan Zhan wanted him to be.

No words would ever be enough to describe his happiness.

“Say, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said, still smiling at Lan Zhan. “Since when have you like liked me?”

Lan Zhan paused for a moment, unsure how to answer the unexpected question. Looking back now, he couldn’t ever imagine not being in love with Wei Ying. Not anymore. Loving Wei Ying came as natural as breathing to him.

“Not sure,” he eventually replied. When Wei Ying raised an eyebrow, he added, “It seems so self-evident now, I can’t remember when it started.”

“Self-evident?” Wei Ying asked, curiosity shining in his eyes now. “What? That you developed a crush on me because of my roguish charms and good looks?”

Lan Zhan sent Wei Ying a stern look. While Lan Zhan wasn’t entirely immune to Wei Ying’s good looks (holding Wei Ying in his arms did things to him), Wei Ying was entirely deceived if he thought that something like a pretty smile would be enough for Lan Zhan to lose all reason. There were a number of people in their acquaintance that were unusually handsome, but their good looks left Lan Zhan entirely unaffected.

Wei Ying was, obviously, special.

“Tell me, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying teased. “What did I do to melt your cold, icy heart?”

A little irked, Lan Zhan abandoned his laundry and went over to the bed. He sat down in the empty space next to Wei Ying  and flicked him into the forehead for good measure.

“Ouch!”

“If you insist on being rude, I will not reply.”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whined. “I was trying to be suave. I honestly have no idea how someone like you would ever go for someone like me. I couldn’t continue living without knowing. Did you fall onto your head as a child, and it knocked all relationship-related sense out of you?”

“Someone like me?” Lan Zhan asked, his brow furrowing.

“Yes, someone like you!” Wei Ying exclaimed. He rolled around so he could face Lan Zhan better, his face almost pressed into Lan Zhan’s thigh. “Do you really want me to spell it out? That’s so embarrassing, Lan Zhan. Anyway,” he continued on regardless, “you have to be one of the most eligible bachelors in this corner of the world. You are rich and privileged and handsome, yes, but you are also extremely hard-working, diligent, and such an excellent musician. The muses cry whenever you play. You take care of the people around you. Teachers love you, and your peers respect your abilities and simultaneously wish they were you. There are so many women – and men – that would let you fuck them into oblivion if you gave the smallest sign of interest.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said in warning.

Wei Ying moved closer and pressed his face into Lan Zhan’s thigh.

“Not that you ever would. But I’m serious, Lan Zhan. If people weren’t so in awe of you, they would be hounding you down the streets. You can basically take your pick. So why me, of all things?”

Lan Zhan felt his frown grow more severe.

“Wei Ying is more popular than me.”

Wei Ying laughed. “Not at all, Lan Zhan. Most people think I’m a weirdo and annoying. A popularity contest between the two of us would end in a landslide victory for you.”

This, Lan Zhan couldn’t let stand.

“Not true,” he insisted. “Wei Ying is smart and dedicated to his research. Enthusiastic. Friendly. Compassionate. Plays the dizi very well. Challenges teachers where they should be challenged. Loves his family. Will not stand for injustice. Is also very handsome, and very poor.”

Wei Ying cuffed him for that.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said gently, stroking his cheek. “There is not a single reason why I shouldn’t like you.”

Tears rose in Wei Ying’s eyes, but Lan Zhan pulled him closer before he could turn away.

“Wei Ying is Wei Ying,” he reiterated. “And he is good.”

Wei Ying’s arms snaked around Lan Zhan’s neck, and he wrapped himself around Lan Zhan like a limpet.

Lan Zhan pressed Wei Ying closer to his chest. Wei Ying could never be close enough. Slowly, he let himself dip lower, until he was lying on the bed, Wei Ying half on top of him.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying sighed. “I was planning to tease you a little, and now this. Why do you love to make me cry?”

“I love you,” Lan Zhan replied. “I will repeat it until you believe me.”

He gently stroked Wei Ying’s back, parted Wei Ying’s hair and brushed it out of his face, reveling in their closeness. Wei Ying was here, with him. Wanted to be here with him. Didn’t think Lan Zhan was too rigid and stuck-up to be around. He might just be the happiest man on earth.

After a few minutes of silence, Wei Ying started wriggling around again, until he had found Lan Zhan’s face.

“There you are,” Wei Ying said with as smile, peppering his face with kisses. “You might be the best person I have ever met. And I still think you are selling yourself way below value.”

“Am happy here. With Wei Ying.”

“Ah, you kill me,” Wei Ying gasped, pressing more, and more desperate, kisses onto Lan Zhan’s cheeks and nose. “Just when I think you can’t possibly devastate me more. I love you so much, I may never recover.”

Please don’t.

Lan Zhan swallowed the reply and kissed Wei Ying instead, pressed his fingers into his waist, into his back, trying to reduce their distance so that they would never have to part again.

He had imagined it, secretly. Daydreamed about it sometimes, when he was waiting for a lecture to start or his tea to brew. A future that contained the two of them, together. Marriage, perhaps even children. A pet. A house. Anything that Wei Ying might want. He wanted it so badly, and he was afraid that it was too early to ask, yet. They were still students, and maybe Wei Ying didn’t want to be tied down, to have Lan Zhan in his future. Lan Zhan, who came with commitments and obligations and a strict family.

So he prayed, quietly.

Please don’t ever stop loving me. Please don’t ever stop wanting to share your life with me.

And perhaps one day, he would be able to ask the question that threatened to spill from his lips so often now. Until that point, however, he was going to make the utmost of his current happiness.

“I love you so much, Lan Zhan.”

[pendingproductivity]

2020 READING RECAP!

This year sucked ass in so many ways, but it might be the best year of reading I’ve ever had. I discovered so many new favorites, revisited some old favorites, and even read a few books multiple times. In this post, I’ve listed my top five favorite books from this year in the order that I read them because I don’t think I could possibly rank them against each other. They have all become some of my favorite books of all time. I’ve also included a few honorable mentions which are ranked with my favorite listed first. And lastly, I have two notable rereads of some old favorites. I also added links to each book on goodreads and bookshop so you can easily add anything to your tbr or buy it! This is going to be a long one, so buckle up. Without further ado, here is an overview of the books I read in 2020!

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s t a t s :

reading goal: 30

total books read: 31

new (to me) books read: 22

average rating: 4.2/5 stars

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t o p   f i v e   f a v o r i t e s : 

Beartown and Us Against You by Fredrik Backman

(Yes, I know I’m kind of cheating by counting this as one book but just roll with me here) Beartown takes place in a tiny community in rural Sweden which is defined by their hockey club. When the junior hockey team has a chance at winning the national championships, the entire town throws their full support behind them. The burden of the pride of their community rests on the shoulders of a handful of teenage boys. For one, the pressure boils over and he commits an act of violence that leaves a young girl traumatized, and the entire community divided. 

Late one evening toward the end of March, a teenager picked up a double-barreled shotgun, walked into the forest, put the gun to someone else's forehead, and pulled the trigger.

This is the story of how we got there.

These two books were downright spectacular. Over the course of this year, I’ve completely fallen in love with Backman’s writing style (we love a good onomatopoeia) but more than anything else I just adore his characters. Each one is multidimensional, and even the most infuriating residents of Beartown have their redeeming qualities. I also love the attention he gives to even the side characters whose motivations shape the story even if they only appear for a few scenes. These are stories about right and wrong, courage and fear, and most of all, humanity itself. I laughed and cried and felt more emotions than I thought was possible. Beartown was amazing, but I actually thought that the sequel, Us Against You, somehow surpassed it, so make sure to read both!! (TW: rape/sexual assault)

goodreads - bookshop (Beartown)   goodreads - bookshop (UAY) 

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When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi

Paul Kalanithi was thirty-six years old and on the verge of completing a decade’s worth of training to become a neurosurgeon when he was diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer. His memoir, When Breath Becomes Air, follows his journey from being a naïve medical student, to a brilliant neurosurgeon at Stanford, to being a cancer patient and a new father confronting his own mortality.  

I began to realize that coming in such close contact with my own mortality had changed both nothing and everything. Before my cancer was diagnosed, I knew that someday I would die, but I didn’t know when. After the diagnosis, I knew that someday I would die, but I didn’t know when. But now I knew it acutely. The problem wasn’t really a scientific one. The fact of death is unsettling. Yet there is no other way to live.

This memoir caught me completely by surprise. It was assigned reading for an English class and I wasn’t expecting to enjoy it let alone completely reevaluate my perception of the world around me because of it. Kalanithi discusses learning, medicine, life, and death as he seeks to answer the age-old question, “What makes life worth living?” and the unique perspectives that he offered fascinated me. When Breath Becomes Air is an unfinished manuscript, since Kalanithi died in 2015, but the epilogue written by his wife might just be the best part of the whole book. To tell you that I was sobbing while reading it would be an understatement. The reason why this book made this list is because I finished it in March, but I still think about it relatively often. When Breath Becomes Air has left a lasting impact on my life, and I highly recommend it!

goodreads - bookshop

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The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid

Evelyn Hugo was a Hollywood legend, but after her sudden departure from show business in the late 80s, she completely fell out of the public gaze. Now she is finally ready to tell the true story about her scandalous and glamorous life and she has specifically chosen Monique Grant, a virtually unknown magazine reporter, for the job. For Monique this exclusive is the opportunity of a lifetime. Evelyn tells her story of ambition, friendship, love, and of course each of her seven husbands. However, it becomes evident that Evelyn’s life has intersected with Monique’s own in tragic and irreversible ways.

It’s always been fascinating to me how things can be simultaneously true and false, how people can be good and bad all in one, how someone can love you in a way that is beautifully selfless while serving themselves ruthlessly.

This. Book. It was absolutely captivating. I’m honestly not even sure what to say here without giving too much away. The plot is truly a wild ride as Evelyn leads Monique through the story of her life. There are so many twists and turns: some that I saw coming and others that completely blindsided me. And that not even to mention Evelyn Hugo herself who is one of the strongest, smartest, most compassionate and deeply flawed characters I’ve ever read about. All the characters were complex and layered, but she was really something else. There were so so many emotions and so many tears and I really don’t know what else to say. I’m begging you to read this book; it will blow your mind.

goodreads - bookshop

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A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman

Ove is a curmudgeon whose life is turned upside down when a young, vivacious family moves in next door. That’s it. That’s the synopsis.

Death is a strange thing. People live their whole lives as if it does not exist, and yet it's often one of the great motivations for living. Some of us, in time, become so conscious of it that we live harder, more obstinately, with more fury. Some need its constant presence to even be aware of its antithesis. Others become so preoccupied with it that they go into the waiting room long before it has announced its arrival. We fear it, yet most of us fear more than anything that it may take someone other than ourselves. For the greatest fear of death is always that it will pass us by. And leave us there alone.

You’ve seen the Pixar movie: grumpy old man meets young person who shows him life is worth living and they become buds etc. etc. Sure, you could essentially boil down A Man Called Ove to that simple plotline but it is so much more than that. It’s heartbreaking and hopeful and you’ll laugh and cry while reading it. This was the most wholesome story I had read in a long time, and I thoroughly enjoyed every last bit of it. I’ve already explained my love of Backman’s unique writing style, but this novel in particular does a beautiful job of tackling deep themes such as grief and purpose with a generous serving of humor. I also just adored the ending. While this book isn’t at all fluffy or entirely lighthearted, it gave me all of he warm fuzzy feelings I was craving. I cannot possibly recommend it enough!

goodreads - bookshop

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Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen 

Elizabeth Bennet and her four sisters must find wealthy husbands because upon their father’s death, the entirety of his estate will be passed on to a male cousin, leaving them penniless. Conveniently, a wealthy gentleman called Mr. Bingley moves into the neighborhood, bringing along his even wealthier although most unpleasant friend, Mr. Darcy. 

Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us.

I definitely didn’t think that I was going to enjoy this book nearly as much as I did. The story truly is timeless, and I absolutely adored Elizabeth and Darcy. The biggest surprise I had while reading is that the humor is still funny today and of course Lizzy is fucking hilarious. She is confident, principled, and more than happy to roast the shit out of anyone who deserves it. And then there’s the matter of Mr. Darcy being so sweet and kind (after he stops being an asshole of course) and greatly contributing to the unattainable standards I have for men. It was also nice to have a socially awkward male lead, and in many ways I related more to him than to Lizzy. This book is everything I want from a romance novel plus class criticism and feminism and Elizabeth being an absolute badass. Enemies to lovers is my all time favorite romance trope and I loved reading one of the OGs. Also, I’d just like to add that Mary is the most underappreciated character of the whole novel because she’s really just trying her best. Mostly I was just completely impressed with how this novel has withstood the test of time and it has become one of my favorite classics! Please please give this book a chance even if you don’t typically enjoy classic novels!!

goodreads - bookshop - barnes&noble (this is the edition I have and it’s just so gorgeous I had to include it!)

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h o n o r a b l e   m e n t i o n s :

The Martian by Andy Weir

Mark Watney is one of the first people to ever walk on Mars, and now it seems like he’ll be the fist person to die there. A raging dust storm forced his crew to evacuate without him and he finds himself alone on the red planet with the entire world believing him to be dead. This book just barely missed being one of my top five of the year, but it was absolutely amazing. I love reading about people finding clever solutions to problems and that is basically what this entire story is. I maybe understood half of the technical science jargon if I’m being generous, but the story is plenty enjoyable even without extensive scientific knowledge. I adore Mark’s wit and mindset, and I loved watching him wriggle his way out of impossible situations with the odds completely stacked against him. The Martian is a story of perseverance and humanity, but it’s also absolutely hilarious. I highly recommend this one if you haven’t picked it up!!

goodreads - bookshop

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Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng

Shaker-Heights appears to be the perfect place to raise a family. It’s progressive, has low crime rates and is all around an idyllic bubble. This all begins to change when a single mother and her daughter move into town with a disregard for the status quo, and a custody battle erupts, dividing the community. This was a great book that ended up being surprisingly thought provoking, and I particularly enjoyed the novel’s criticism of liberal idealism. The story itself was entertaining and I think it’s definitely worth a read! 

goodreads - bookshop

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Red, White, and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston

Alex Claremont-Diaz is the first son of the United States who finds himself intertwined in a damage control PR stunt with his sworn nemesis, Prince Henry. They have to pretend to be best friends to ensure that their confrontation at the royal wedding doesn’t get in the way of American/British relations. I’m sure you can guess where this is going. This is totally a feel-good love story, but it also finds the time to tackle real issues surrounding politics and societal expectations. I loved this book so much that I read it twice this year (the second time because I was so stressed about the election and I needed to distract myself with the fictional 2020 election that takes place in the novel) and also I’m just a sucker for enemies to lovers. (sidenote: the turkey catastrophe is one of the greatest scenes in literary history and you cannot convince me otherwise) 100% would recommend!

goodreads - bookshop

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n o t a b l e   r e r e a d s :

The Harry Potter Series by J.K. Rowling

The Jim Dale audiobooks are my ultimate self-care tool when I’m stressed or sad; I just find them to be so comforting and I can’t explain why. Because of this I probably listen to at least one of the books every year, but it’s usually just whichever one I happen to be in the mood for. But it’s been so long since I’ve listened through the entire series, and this year seemed to be the perfect time to do so! 

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Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell

This used to be my favorite book of all time. I’m pretty sure I first read it in sixth or seventh grade and I’ve reread it so many times since. I’ve been planning on rereading this book my first year of university for such a long time, and the time finally came! The book especially hit hard this semester because Cath feels disconnected from everyone at school because she doesn’t want to go to parties or make much of an effort to find friends, and because of COVID, I ended up in almost the exact same situation, (except unfortunately my roommate doesn’t have a cute ex-boyfriend who hangs out in our room). This was definitely another comfort read like the HP audiobooks and it made me feel a bit better about being stuck in my dorm room. 

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If you actually made it to the end of all that, wow, you’re a real one. I hope you got a few new book recs out of this! If you want to see the thirteen other books I read this year, you can check out my 2020 reading challenge. I read so many amazing books this year I had  hard time narrowing down my favorites, so there are still plenty more great reads that aren’t included in this post. If for some reason you feel like keeping up with the books I read in 2021, follow my goodreads account for dramatic and ranty book reviews. Happy New Year, and here’s to 2021 being full of wonderful books!

[spin-birdie]

Could you write about Markus and Jericho Crew finding out Connor isn’t the original. So lots of angst with lots of Comfort?

so uh this got away from me. i’m digging it though

word count: 1.2k

pairing: general i guess

tags: hurt/comfort, post-canon, interfacing, jericrew, i stayed up until 12:20 am on a school night to finish this whoops

edit: now you can read this on ao3 here!

“Take a look at that view,” Simon breathes, awestruck, as he steps to the edge of the viewing platform. From this height, the horizon stretches out seemingly without end, the tops of crags and cliffs peeking out through vibrant forests.

Josh is quick to join Simon’s side, leaning on the balcony beside North. “Yeah,” he says. “I don’t mean to sound like a cheesy white grandpa, but this is genuinely breathtaking.”

Markus approaches the edge at the same time Connor does, taking in the view for several moments before speaking up. “Coming all the way out here was definitely worth it.”

“Agreed,” North and Josh say simultaneously.

“Still think this was a waste of time?” As he speaks, Markus turns to Connor with a smile, which is quickly replaced with concern when he sees Connor’s face. He’s looking straight down the tower; in itself not unusual, but his jaw is clenched as tightly as his fists around the balcony railing, and his LED is split between red and yellow.

Markus taps him on the shoulder. “Connor?”

As fast as anything, Connor lurches back from the edge, blinking rapidly before coming back to his senses. His LED circles yellow twice, then stays there. “Sorry.”

There’s a brief, tense pause. Then North steps back from the edge and towards Connor. “Have you got a problem with heights?”

Connor’s LED blinks. “We wouldn’t survive if we fell,” he simply replies.

“Are you scared that we will?” Simon presses. He’s been deviant for the longest time out of all of them; he’s almost always the person to talk out new emotions with, even considering his troubling history with Connor.

But as soon as Connor makes eye contact with Simon, his LED flashes red. He shakes his head with a sigh and turns around, but he doesn’t get far before Markus grabs him by the arm.

“Connor, it’s okay to admit if you’re scared–”

An interface opens seconds after they make contact, and Markus sees a memory that isn’t his. Simon - no, an identical PL600 - holding a gun to a little girl’s head. He might be crying. It’s hard to tell; the memory gets more corrupted the longer it plays. Markus sees Connor tackle that android, sees the ground approaching, but the visual bleeds into an incomprehensible sea of colors before he lands.

Another memory flashes briefly; an android covered in blood - red and blue - grabbing an officer’s gun and pointing it at Connor, but it’s gone as soon as it came and replaced with Simon. The real Simon, from the roof of Stratford Tower, shooting himself in the head. Markus feels a surge of panic muted through the connection. The audio playback is vaguely warped, but coherent: “I felt it die. Like I was dying. I was scared…”

It skips again, this time to a woman with a stone-cold glare. Markus doesn’t recognize her. He hears Connor’s voice again, though. “I’m not a unique model, am I? How many Connor’s are there?”

He sees someone identical to Connor pointing a gun at an old man’s head. Markus recognizes Lieutenant Anderson, though they’ve only met once. The lieutenant speaks. “Sorry, Connor. This bastard’s your spitting image.”

Connor gasps and Markus withdraws his hand like it’s on fire. He stands there, gaping at Connor as he clutches his hand against his chest. Connor’s LED won’t stop flashing; dull red, bright red, empty, dull red.

“That’s more than I meant to show you,” Connor speaks up after a long moment. “I’m sorry.”

“Connor, that–” Markus shakes his head in disbelief, reaching out to touch Connor’s shoulder. “None of that is on you. You have nothing to apologize for. It’s okay to be scared.”

Connor frowns and steps out of Markus’ reach. “No, I’m not… It’s not justified. I have no right to be afraid, I’m not that Connor. He died before he even lived. That memory isn’t mine.”

“What are you–?” Josh tries to interject.

“I’m disposable.” Connor spits the word out like it’s venom. “Before the revolution, if a Connor model got destroyed in the field, CyberLife just transferred its memory and sent another one to replace it. I’m unit 53. Unit 52 got shot, unit 51 fell off a roof…God knows what happened to the rest. Those memories are too jumbled up.”

By the time Connor is done speaking, he’s hunched over with his arms wrapped around himself, refusing to look up. The similar image of him in the church, newly deviant and guilt-ridden, appears in Markus’ mind for a moment.

The silence is broken by North stepping closer. “Connor, that’s…horrible. I’m so sorry.”

Josh also approaches. “Hey, you’re okay. I don’t know what CyberLife told you, but you’re not just…one of their pawns, alright?”

Markus nods and takes another step forward to hold Connor by the shoulders. “Those memories are real, Connor. You may not have experienced them in this body, but they’re part of who you are, they… Maybe they even had a role in making you the person you are, even if you weren’t a deviant before this life.”

For a second, Connor’s gaze rises to Markus, flits between him, Josh, and North. He lowers his head again, then looks up over Markus’ shoulder. “I never remembered what dying felt like from the other Connor’s. But Simon, when I found you…” he pauses to swallow needlessly, “I felt it, that time. I felt unbridled fear for the first time. It was agonizing.”

That gets Simon to step away from the balcony, towards the others. “What?”

“When you killed yourself to protect Jericho,” Connor clarifies. “I was connected to your memory… I felt you die, and I just pictured–”

“The deviant with the hostage,” Markus finishes. Realization and horror twists in his stomach. Has that deviant been haunting Connor this whole time? Is that why he’s so nervous around Simon?

Connor nods in agreement. “I’m sorry. I don’t…I really don’t know how to process this. I feel broken, somehow.”

“I don’t blame you. It’s a lot to unpack,” Josh concedes.

“I’m not sure what to say,” North admits.

Simon stares between his own hands resting over his chest, where his damning wound once was, and Connor’s face. “Connor, look at me.”

With noticeable reluctance, Connor does.

Simon steels his jaw and makes direct eye contact with Connor. “I forgive you.”

Connor doesn’t react for a few seconds, but then he releases a sigh of relief. “I don’t know why it’s so relieving to hear you say that.”

Before he can second-guess himself, Markus pulls Connor into a hug. “It doesn’t have to make sense. Just know that we’re all here for you. We’re your friends, Connor. We love you because of the compassionate, selfless, amazing person you are, and that won’t change no matter what body you’re in.”

North joins in the hug, surprisingly. “We don’t care how many other RK800′s there are, or how much suffering you’ve witnessed. All that matters is who you are now and who you want to be.”

Josh follows suit and hugs the three of them as close as he can, closely preceded by Simon. “You’re a strong person, Connor,” Josh says.

Markus feels tears soaking through his shirt as Connor finally hugs him back like he never wants to let go.