#i think i blacked out during all this time so reviewing it is like reading about a stranger

[ckret2]

Chapter 66 of that fic about human Bill but he's not in this chapter so forget about him: Ford and Dipper go cryptid hunting!

This is pretty much a standalone chapter so if somehow you stumbled on this without seeing the rest of the fic, u can just, read it by itself as a standalone Dipper and Ford adventure. It's funny. Promise.

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The camera turned on to reveal Dipper, illuminated sunset orange and cast in heavy shadows, holding the camera out at arm's length. "Welcome back to Dipper's Guide to the Unexplained, anomaly #175: the Fremont Nightwigglers!" He held up a paper title card in his free hand. "I'm Dipper Pines, and today I'm honored to introduce our special guest star—" he turned the camera around to focus on Ford from behind, "—the one and only Dr. Stanford Pines, PhD times twelve—"

Ford laughed self-consciously. "Dipper, nobody's going to recognize my name outside of a few highly specialized academic fields—"

"—the scientist who developed the Theory of Weirdness—"

"That paper isn't even ready for peer review yet, and I can't take all the credit—"

"—and the coolest dimension-hopping monster-fighting mystery-investigating great uncle in the world!"

Ford paused thoughtfully. "Okay, I'll take that one."

"Tonight, we're on the trail of the Fremont Nightwigglers." The recording cut to CCTV footage from a much higher-budget cryptid-hunting show (which Dipper had recorded by aiming the camera at the TV). The footage showed two marshmallow-like creatures that seemed to consist solely of heads, long legs, and feet—smooth, ghostly white, and featureless except for black eyes. They wore denim jeans that covered their bodies from ankles to waists, and their legs seemed to bend jointlessly, like an octopus's arms or an elephant's trunk. "These weird armless creatures have been seen up and down the west coast states, leaving behind a wave of jeans thefts at clothing stores; but by the time local law enforcement has ruled out any human suspects, the true culprits are always long gone."

The recording cut back to Dipper, who'd taken the lead so he could turn around the camera and aim it at both himself and Ford. "Based on investigative research done by Dr. Pines in the 80s, we believe the Nightwigglers have a migratory route several years long that passes through California, Oregon, Washington, and Canada. More research is needed to find out if they travel as far as Alaska or Mexico. Locals believe each Nightwiggler creates an individual burrow around a communal gathering spot to hide in during the day, and at night they assemble in the communal spot to travel or forage in nearby towns."

Ford threw in, "Based on what the townspeople told me about their habits, they've been in Gravity Falls much longer than usual. It typically takes them a week or two to pass through the area, but this year there have been sightings for more than a month. Perhaps we'll find out why."

"And thanks to a hot tip from an in-the-know local"—the recording cut to a few seconds of footage of Wendy proving she could do a handstand on the split-rail fence around the Mystery Shack—"we know which assembly spot they're currently camping around! Tonight, we're trying to get the first deliberate footage of a Nightwiggler..." Dipper lowered the camera and turned toward Ford, "Hey, what'll we call a group of them? A flock? Herd? Meeting? If we're the first investigators to officially document the species, we get to come up with the name , right?"

Ford considered the question. "What about a wobble of Nightwigglers? Since their legs are so... wobbly."

"Sure, that works."

"Is this really your 175th episode?" Ford asked. "I've missed quite a few."

"Ye—well..." Dipper lowered the camera. It recorded his shoes as he walked. "So far I've got a list of 175 anomalies I want to do an episode on, but I've only recorded and posted thirty-something. I think you've seen them all except the two I've done this summer." He sighed. "I'm... kinda disappointed by it, honestly."

"Why? You should be proud of your work so far! You're the only person in the world who's caught footage of the Hide Behind."

"By accident."

"Because you learned how to identify its call, chased it through half the forest, and were prepared with the right equipment to record it. That wasn't luck, Dipper—that was your hard work."

"I guess," Dipper said grudgingly. "I just... wanted to have a lot more produced by now."

"Wh—You started these last June? That's about one every two weeks. That's a very impressive output."

"I made most of them last summer, I hardly did any over the last school year or this summer."

"You've been focusing on your studies, that's good."

"Yeah, but what about this summer? All I've done so far is borrow some of Robbie's music video footage to make an episode about zombies and record some footage I haven't edited yet about Pacifica's alpaca thief. I didn't even get any footage of the haunted doll crane game before it disappeared. Most of the time I've been just... hiding in Soos's room playing Bloodcraft: Overdeath"—(under his breath Ford muttered "Blood-craft over death?")—"or hanging out with Wendy and her friends, or helping Soos with the Mystery Shack, or just trying to avoid..." He trailed off, suddenly conscious of the camera still aimed at the ground. It had started recording footprints drying in the mud after the recent rain: soft indents like the pads of paws, but with no distinct toes, about the size and length of human feet. Dipper lifted the camera to better record the trail they were walking down.

"Well... there's nothing wrong with taking a break during the summer," Ford said. "Especially considering that your last summer was... quite a bit more exciting than most kids'—"

"That's just it!" Dipper said. "Last summer I did so much! I investigated your disappearance, I filled half of your third journal, I helped stop the apocalypse, I wrote a book with Mabel about solving mysteries and doing fun stuff, I recorded like twenty Guides to the Unknown... Compared to that, this summer I feel like I'm—falling behind."

"Falling behind what?"

"I don't know. But—I just—I... feel like..." He trailed off with a frustrated sigh. "I don't know."

Ford offered, "Maybe, like you're not living up to your own potential?"

"Yes! That's it," Dipper said. "I'm not trying to grow up too fast, I'm just worried I'll grow up before I've done all the stuff I'm supposed to do now. Like I'm already running out of time."

"Hmm..." Ford let out a long, thoughtful sigh. "Dipper, I'm probably the wrong person to be giving this advice, considering that I'm not exactly... the paragon of moderation when it comes to pursuing professional ambitions. But—remember that you're only thirteen. Right now, you don't need to be worried about graduating valedictorian and starting up an anomaly-hunting show and doing groundbreaking research into previously-unknown strange and wondrous creatures," Ford said. "You just need to focus on graduating valedictorian first. That's all I did with my high school years, and after that I still managed to rack up multiple PhDs before age 30. You've got plenty of time!" He said this with the confidence of a man who didn't realize having his life derailed by a manipulative alien villain was the only reason he didn't burn out hard by 1984. "Outside of that, just... worry about being a kid."

"Yeah. I guess you're right. Thanks, Grunkle Ford," Dipper said. "I keep worrying, though. I keep thinking, what if I'm wasting all my time on stuff that... just... doesn't matter? What if nothing I'm doing is actually important?"

Ford was silent a moment. "That's... a very existential question for your age. How long have you been worrying—"

Dipper hissed, "Grunkle Ford!" He jerked his camera up. "Is that fire?!" There was a faint orange glow in the distance between the trees.

"I think it is!"

Dipper whispered, "That's where I found the Nightwigglers' abanadoned campsite last time!"

"Did you see any signs that they knew how to start fires? Remains of a campfire?"

"I didn't notice anything."

"It could be a Scampfire..."

As quietly as they could, Dipper and Ford edged through the trees, Dipper all the while pointing the camera toward the light, until they found a narrow gap between two trees from which they could peer into the clearing.

There were three or four dozen Nightwigglers milling about in little clusters. Several had lit torches—sturdy sticks with the ends wrapped in fabric—which they carried by sticking the ends of the torches into their jeans' pockets.

"Dipper, look at the tops of their torches," Ford hissed. "Is that shredded denim?"

The camera zoomed in on the nearest torchbearing Nightwiggler. "I think so."

"We already knew they wore clothing—but they can make tools, too? How advanced are they..."

Ford trailed off as the clustered Nightwigglers separated, spreading out evenly into several rings. As the camera recorded, they began emitting a synchronized muffled humming; and then they began dancing, kicking their legs and turning in circles together. "Whoa," Dipper whispered. "Is this some kind of ritual?"

"What's its purpose?" Ford whispered back. "Recreation? Religion? Some sort of cultural event—?"

"Hold on. I think I recognize the song."

Ford and Dipper fell silent, watching in silence as the dance repeated a couple of times.

The Nightwigglers were doing the Hokey Pokey.

"Fascinating." The camera lurched sideways, and then turned toward Ford. Ford had stolen Dipper's journal from out of his vest pocket and was hastily taking notes on a blank page. "I had no idea Nightwiggler culture was so influenced by human culture. An hour ago, we didn't even know Nightwigglers have a culture. When could they have observed and learned the Hokey Pokey? It's not exactly a nighttime dance—do they spy on humans during the day?"

Dipper said, "What if we learned the dance from Nightwigglers?"

Ford stopped writing, looked up, and stared at Dipper, mind blown.

Dipper jerked the camera back toward the Nightwigglers as they filed out of the clearing. "Hey! Where are they going now?"

Dipper and Ford waited until the last Nightwiggler had left; and then they quietly followed.

####

After several minutes of silence except for the sound of footsteps, Ford said, "Are we headed toward Mabel's Fault?"

Dipper groaned. "I got enough of this place last week."

"Agreed." 

"Hey, you know Bill said we should rename it 'Bill's Fault'?"

Ford huffed. "Did he really? I don't believe it."

"Yeah. He tried to play it off like, 'oOOoh, I just want creEDit—'"

"That sounds like him—"

They came to a stop as the camera spied the Nightwigglers standing in the clearing around the fault, then they quickly moved off the path into the brush and crept closer. "What are they doing?" Dipper asked as they inched up to the tree line.

"I don't know—they're packed too tightly together for me to see."

"I've got an idea. Hold this." The camera bounced as Dipper passed it to Ford, who watched as Dipper climbed up one of the pine trees around the clearing. 

"Careful! There aren't a lot of low branches that can hold your weight."

"It's okay, Wendy showed me how to do this." Dipper held out his hand for the camera.

Ford passed it up to him. "What do you see?"

The camera foused on Mabel's Fault. "The Nightwigglers closest to the fault are taking off their jeans, ripping them into two separate legs, and... tossing them in the fault? Have you ever heard of this?"

"Never."

"Like a dozen have done it so far."

"Perhaps that's why they have to steal so many pairs of pants? But why..."

Dipper gasped. Tiny Nightwigglers had begun squirming out of the fault, each wearing a single denim pant leg, crawling around like inchworms with half the pant leg trailing behind them. The bigger Nightwigglers picked up the little ones with their feet and swaddled them in the excess fabric. "They're—I think they're baby Nightwigglers! Coming out of the fault!"

"Amazing! Is this how they reproduce?" Ford asked. "Is that why they travel the west coast—are they following the San Andreas Fault and the volcanoes in the Pacific Northwest?"

"Maybe that's why they've been in town so long," Dipper said. "Mabel's Fault wasn't here the last time they passed through."

"We'll have to find out what other towns they stay in the longest. How far is Fremont from the fault line—?"

"Hey," Dipper said, "A bunch more Nightwigglers took their jeans off. They're tying them in a circle." One of the torchbearer Nightwigglers knelt down and bowed forward, setting the jeans ring on fire; and it was tossed into the fault. The Nightwigglers that weren't carrying infants formed a circle and began Hokey Pokeying toward the fault.

"That definitely looks like a ritual," Ford said, "but why? To celebrate the births...?"

The ground rumbled. Dipper gasped and slipped several feet down the tree before he caught himself. When he refocused the camera, Mabel's Fault was several feet wider, and a fiery glow was rising up from within.

An enormous Nightwiggler, fifteen feet tall, climbed out of the fault. It wore a crown of flaming denim and tattered pants formed by stitching together many pairs of decades-old jeans. The Nightwigglers bowed down.

"Good lord," Ford breathed. "What is that? Did they summon it, or—or was it always down there?"

The giant Nightwiggler watched regally as its subjects danced around it. As they spun around and completed another repetition of the Hokey Pokey—that's what it's all a-BOUT—the giant punctuated the end of the dance with a ground-shaking stomp.

Dipper lost his grip on the tree. He and the camera crashed to the ground with a yelp. 

"Dipper! Are you alright?!"

"Ow... fine, probably just bruised."

The camera caught Ford kneeling to help Dipper sit up, and then Dipper grabbed the camera again as he stood. He pointed it back at the clearing.

Every single Nightwiggler, babies and giant included, was staring at them with wide black eyes.

Ford said, "Uh oh."

The giant let out a bellow like a muffled hunting horn.

The Nightwigglers charged.

Dipper and Ford ran away through the brush, screaming.

####

Dipper pointed the camera at his face. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat and his cheeks and arms were covered in small branch scrapes. "Still works," he reported to Ford.

"Great," Ford said. "That thing's hardy."

The camera jerked as Dipper tried to set it on a tree stump.

"Well, we got away with our lives," he said. "But... not without some losses."

He got the camera settled and backed up. He was wearing his vest zipped up around his hips like a skirt. Ford's trench coat was conspicuously buttoned up, and his legs were bare between his coat and boots. They both looked sheepish.

Ford said, "We've acquired some invaluable anthropological data, though."

"I'm calling this investigation a triumph," Dipper said.

Ford offered a hand. "High six!"

In the background, a skinny-legged Nightwiggler wearing Dipper's shorts darted through the trees.

####

(It's about time Dipper get a little personal attention. Hope you enjoyed and I look forward to hearing y'all's thoughts!)

[moonchildstyles]

whats this aster curious gazes im seeing ?🥸

wordcount: 2.7k+

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Mikaela impatiently checked the time broadcasted on the clock above the auditorium's entrance, trailing after the molasses-slow minute hand. How had it only been three minutes since she last checked and not the twenty she had sworn it had been? She and her group had already finished peer reviewing each other's papers ten minutes ago, but they were all confined to their seats for fear of Professor Rian marking them down for leaving early—one of his favorite activities Mikaela had learned about the hard way during the second week of courses.

"How much longer?" Bria bemoaned from across the table, her own boredom showing in her dull gaze. (Y/N) perked up at Mikaela's side at the question, though she stayed just as quiet as she always was. 

"Another thirty," Mikaela murmured, a moment away from rolling her eyes, "I feel like we've been waiting for, like, an hour." 

Around them, the remaining groups were still chattering, some speaking about the essays while others seemed just as checked out as them. Running a hand through her long hair, Mikaela convinced herself to stay strong. 

"At least it'll be the weekend after this," she reminded the table, looking to Bria, "You're still set on getting your tattoo this weekend?" 

Bria plucked up at the question, her brown eyes sparkling in excitement. "Mhm! They called and confirmed yesterday with me, so I'll be in tomorrow morning, first thing!" 

"Are you going to be with the same guy that you had the consultation with?" Mikaela asked, picturing the long haired, heavily tattooed man she had seen when she went with Bria the first time to set up the initial appointment. She almost booked one for herself after seeing him; even the scowl and less than friendly demeanor couldn't detract from his... everything. 

Leaning across the table as if sharing a secret, Bria raised her eyebrows with a conspiratorial gleam in her eyes. "I hope. I might cancel, if not." 

Mikaela laughed along with her friend, knowing exactly where she was coming from. 

Piping up with a small smile on her features, (Y/N) asked, "Where are you going for your tattoo?" 

"It's not too far from here actually," Bria started, settling her chin in her hand as she spoke to (Y/N) at Mikaela's side. "It's called 17Black." 

(Y/N)'s expression brightened at the mention of the tattoo parlor in a way Mikaela had never seen before. Though she usually came to class fresh-faced and dewy, there was now a glimmer in her eyes that almost gave the illusion of glitter having fallen in her lashes.

"They're the best," she bubbled, her smile wide, "It's gonna turn out really, really good. You said you know who your artist is going to be?" 

"Yeah—um—hold on," Bria muttered, reaching into her bag, "I got his card last time I was in—I think he's the owner, or something." After a moment she pulled out a black and white business card, reading the name off: "Harry." 

Passing the card across the table, (Y/N) eagerly read over the stylized font and the glossy logo on the other side. "He's amazing—you're super lucky, Bria." 

(Y/N)'s smile wasn't one that could be shaken as she passed back the card. Mikaela thought she looked like she was proud, even. (Y/N) was always so reserved, seemingly more comfortable in the background and only chirping up when needed, Mikaela had never seen her so bright like this. 

"Have you been there before, (Y/N)?" she asked, trying to imagine someone like (Y/N) with any tattoos—especially done at a place like 17Black. 

Not that there was a specific kind of person that could have tattoos or that the parlor wasn't nice, but she had a hard time picturing (Y/N) with all her ribbons, pink sweaters, and shimmer flouncing into that building and getting a design inked into her skin. Especially by someone like Bria's artist; she was already shy enough, Mikaela doubted his scowls and curt tone would be anything of comfort.

That left her raising her brows in surprise when (Y/N) happily nodded her head. "Yeah! I only have one tattoo, but Harry did it and it's"—there was a moment something dreamy flashed over (Y/N)'s gaze then—"It's perfect." 

"I didn't know you had a tattoo," Bria interjected, her expression surely mirroring Mikaela's with her own perked brows and searching gaze as if they had both somehow missed an obvious marking. 

"It's really little," (Y/N) explained, settling some in her seat, "It's on my side, like, on my ribs, so people don't really see it." 

"I never pictured you with a tattoo," Mikaela added, "And especially on your ribs. You're brave." 

"Honestly," Bria started, bouncing full brows over her eyes "I don't know how you got through it, especially with him." 

A cinch appeared between (Y/N)'s brows. "What do you mean?" 

"You probably had to take your shirt off for the rib tattoo, right?" Bria prodded, watching as (Y/N) flustered some before ultimately nodding her head, "I don't know how to act around that guy—Harry—with my clothes on, I think I would combust if he asked me to take them off." 

It wasn't hard to see that (Y/N) was bubbling with embarrassment at Bria's remark—though Mikaela did hardily agree. She wondered if (Y/N) felt the same way; it was hard to picture her getting flustered over someone like Bria's artist. There could be that whole opposites attract thing going on for them, but Mikaela could only really see the scenario where Harry would crush the marshmallow that is (Y/N).

"Oh, I don't know," she muttered half-heartedly, trailing off without a real answer, "You know, he's just..." 

"It's okay, I get it," Bria finished for her with a bubbling laugh that had (Y/N) cracking her own polite smile. "He's pretty intimidating, honestly. Not for everyone, I guess." 

With her hands a bundle in her lap, (Y/N) tilted her head, "I wouldn't say that—" 

Not a moment too soon, Professor Rian made his way back to the forefront of the auditorium—something Mikaela wished he would have done a half an hour prior. "Class dismissed. Next Wednesday we'll do our final draft reviews and the finished essays will be due next Friday at midnight. Have a nice weekend." 

"Finally," Bria exasperated, immediately rushing to pack her things just as Mikaela had before Rian had even finished talking.

(Y/N) had done the smart thing and had her things ready to go once they had finished peer reviewing, only having to sling her bag over her shoulder while she quietly waited for the pair of them to get their own shit together. 

It was wild how much more awake Mikaela felt now that class had been dismissed, leaving behind the exhausted state she was lulling into at her desk. Shrugging into her jacket, the mental list of tasks she had to accomplish before her sister, Mira, and her boyfriend would be over for dinner didn't sound so bad now.

"What are you getting, Bria? For your tattoo, I mean," she chirped up, peering around Mikaela as they walked into the corridor, steps in sync with one another. 

"The moon and some stars and stuff on the top of my hand," she explained, "It's kind of hard to describe without a picture, but it's this whole thing." 

"That sounds really pretty," (Y/N) smiled, sincerity in her voice, "Hopefully it won't take too long—I hear the top of your hand can hurt sometimes with the bones and all." 

"It might not be so bad if it took a while, right?" Mikaela piped up, shooting Bria a look from the corner of her eye. Maybe, if Mira and her boyfriend didn't overstay their welcome tonight, she'd go with Bria in the morning and see if her artist had a girlfriend or something. 

(Or was at least open to hooking up on one of the tattoo chairs). 

Leading down the hall towards the main entrance of the building, Bria nudged Mikaela's shoulder. Ahead of them, (Y/N) reached forward and opened the door for the three of them to pass through. 

"Definitely wouldn't be bad," Bria laughed, the chill of the winter air seeping through the sleeves of Mikaela's jacket as they stepped outside. "I don't know, I might even—Wait, oh my god." 

"What?" Mikaela asked, brows furrowing at the abrupt change in her friend. 

Instead of the amused bubbly expression she wore just a moment prior, Bria now looked ahead with wide eyes and gaped lips, her steps slowing over the concrete. 

(Y/N) noticed the change in her demeanor as well, peering around Mikaela as her own features molded into something of worry. "What happened?"

"He's here," Bria muttered, looking straight ahead towards the student parking lot, "That's literally him right there, isn't it? Why is he here?" 

"Who? Who's her—" 

Following Bria's line of sight, Mikaela felt her own words get stuck in her throat when she saw just what had her friend going limp. 

As if summoned, Bria's tattoo artist—Harry—had somehow found a prime parking space in the student lot and was now waiting.

He was ever the intimidating figure with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the hulking frame of the black Range Rover behind him. (Because, of course, he would drive a Range Rover). Even with the chunky black cardigan draped over his form, he didn't look any less imposing than when he had stalked through the tattoo parlor. He perfectly matched his car, all black, tattoos tracing over his skin, including the heavy chest pieces on display from the low scoop of his top. A pair of sunglasses were holding his hair back on the top of his head, with his lips set in a firm line, lip ring and all.

"He doesn't go here, right?" Mikaela blanched. Why else would be here, if not to go to class, right?

(Y/N) looked just as bewildered as they were, a cant to her head as she took him in. "What is he doing here?" she muttered, voice quiet enough to be speaking to herself.

Their small trio stood off to the side, out of the way as the rest of their classmates trickled around them as well as other students meandering through campus. From where they stood, Mikaela could see the way the tattoo artist scanned over the student body, searching for something—or someone.

He didn't come to see Bria, right? That would be crazy, leaning on certifiable—even if he was hot.

Mikaela's eyes widened when she saw (Y/N) wave her hand above her head. What was she doing? Did she not think this was weird that he had showed up to campus when he really didn't have any reason to? 

She watched as he caught sight of (Y/N)'s waving arm and his features almost immediately softened. Even from where they were standing, it was clear to see the tension releasing from his body in a breath. He pushed off from where he was lent against his Range Rover and started towards the building—towards them.

Was (Y/N) insane or something, and they'd just missed all the signs until this moment? Why would she ask him to come over here?

"He's coming over here, what the fuck," Bria murmured, just as lost as Mikaela. 

It didn't take long for his spanning strides to cross the concrete and take him to where their small group had taken root. Seeing him this close again, Mikaela realized her memory didn't do him any justice—he was more than gorgeous. Unfortunately crazy, but still hot. 

Had he always had his nose pierced? Had his eyes always been that green? Had they always been pinned to (Y/N) like that? 

"(Y/N), do you—" Bria started, only to cut herself off when (Y/N) excitedly bounced up to her toes once the tattoo artist was close. 

"What are you doing here, H?" she chirped, familiarity in her voice as she looked up at him.

Mikaela figured she wore the same expression that Bria did, with her eyes wide and brows raised, a fraction away from her jaw dropping as they watched the tattoo artist—H—pull (Y/N) into his arms and drop a kiss on the top of her head.

"Came to pick you up for lunch, if that's okay," he murmured, not sparing a glance their way as he kept the pink marshmallow in his arms. "I also noticed there was an extra jacket lying around my room that I thought was supposed to be with you." 

Sheepishly looking down, (Y/N) shook her head. "I forgot, I'm sorry." 

Adoration was clear on the tattoo artist's—her boyfriend—features. "'S alright, lovebug. I brought it with me so y'can have it the rest of the day, jus' don't keep forgetting it. 'S only getting colder out, I don't want you to get sick." 

"I won't," (Y/N) sighed, looking entirely at home as she clutched his sweater in her hands and fluttered her lashes at him as if he were a king. "Thank you." 

Mikaela couldn't help the simmering of her blood beneath her skin, surely a flush painting her complexion as she thought back to just what she and Bria had been saying during class. They talked all about how hot (Y/N)'s boyfriend was to her face, implied he was intimidating and not her type, and she had even heard them freak out thinking he had come to see them. She was never going to pair with them for peer review again.

(Though Mikaela will give herself credit for not speaking about the lingering fantasy she'd had involving one of those tattoo chairs and Harry's hair pulled back so he could focus). 

"Um," Mikaela sounded, almost cringing at how stupid she sounded from just a single syllable, "I think we should probably go, but we'll see you next week, (Y/N)." 

(Y/N) turned with her expression going bashful. Her boyfriend's hands didn't move from where they were on her waist though he finally looked up from her to see the rest of the world around them. 

"I'm sorry," she apologized as if in reflex. Looking at the man behind her, she started with a shy smile on her lips, "Harry, this is Bria and Mikaela. They're the girls from one of my English classes I've told you about." 

Back was the expression she recognized from when she had dropped by the tattoo parlor. His features hardened some, going less open and easy to read than they had been just a moment ago. He took them in with a stilted smile on his lips. 

"Nice to meet you," he murmured, his gaze flicking to Bria for a split second longer, "Actually, we've met before, right? You're my nine a.m. tomorrow." 

"I am, yeah," Bria said, sounding just as lame as Mikaela felt. It was easy to see Bria was floundering for anything to say before she finally settled on, "(Y/N) didn't tell us she had a boyfriend." 

His smile turned lopsided at that, amusement flickering in his gaze as he looked down at the marshmallow in his arms. "She didn't?" 

(Y/N) looked to the pair of them, biting back a smile as if remembering what was said back in class but deciding it was their secret to keep. "It just didn't come up." 

"Right," he smiled, squeezing her waist just enough to get her bouncing at his side with a short huff of laughter pouring out, "Are you ready to go?" 

"I think so, yeah," (Y/N) agreed, craning her neck to smile up at him before returning her attention to Mikaela and Bria. "I'll see you guys next week."

The pair shared similar goodbyes, hoping they didn't sound as embarrassed as they felt. Walking away from them, Mikaela watched Harry tangle his fingers with (Y/N), slowing just long enough to press a kiss to her forehead before leading her towards his Range Rover.

"We are the most annoying people in the world," Mikaela said, breaking their silence, "We literally said all of that about him to his girlfriend." 

"She's never going to partner for peer review with us again." 

Despite the guilt and bits of humiliation floating through her system, Mikaela couldn't shake off just how sweet it was to see (Y/N) interact with someone like that—especially someone like her boyfriend. They were clearly in love, that much she could tell.

"Oh my god," Bria said, whipping her head around to look at Mikaela with horror stricken eyes. 

"What?" Mikaela asked, taken aback at the sudden urgency in Bria's voice. Was another person they had lusted over to their partner, about to round the corner? 

"I have to see him again tomorrow," Bria whined, "And, (Y/N)'s probably going to tell him what we said." 

At that thought, Mikaela really hoped her sister would overstay her welcome tonight—give her a reason to stay in bed and leave Bria to her appointment alone. 

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this is the first time im trying out this kind of pov so I really hope everyone like it! thank you sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and please lmk if you have any ideas you want to share!

[buzzcutlip]

Cracks and Gaps - The Waterfall (part II) Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader Mature (Explicit in the following parts) 6573 words

You meet Carmen in Copenhagen through a mutual friend and bond over shared experiences. After following his rising career from afar, you reconnect in Chicago when he renovates his late brother’s restaurant. As an editor, you can’t miss an opportunity to find out more about the comeback of this chef prodigy. part I The Worst Day

A/N: The angst continues and morphs. This part is full of fashion, understanding and soft words. Thank you Amy @foreveraimingtowardsthesky and E @butchcarmy for giving me the confidence to write and to publish this :) (Also reader is reffered to as someone who blushes, in case you would like to know this ahead of deciding to read the story)

THE WATERFALL

You want so badly to forget the fight, but instead, you keep replaying it in your head over and over, until it feels like a movie you saw on TV or in a cinema. Like it wasn't really you Carmen was shouting at. You try to comfort yourself by imagining what you should have done in that moment—anything but nothing, like you actually did. But at least you stood up for yourself. That’s somehow comforting.

The way forward is to go—to leave. To remove yourself from the situation and find a new environment that has nothing to do with what happened. For the weekend, you take a long-postponed trip to Seattle. People envy you for traveling to fancy places for work, but to you, it’s just that—work. This time, though, you’re unusually eager to get on the plane to another state. Nothing in Washington is going to remind you of Carmen Berzatto, you hope. The plan is to try a luxury wellness retreat for women in tech and business at Salish Lodge by Snoqualmie Falls. You’re not in tech or business, but the place paid the magazine to review the program, so you couldn’t really say no. There’s a "pillow menu for the best night’s rest" and a "Canna-bliss CBD natural ritual" option, so you’re not complaining. To escape the busy networking event on Saturday, you sneak out and walk to the top of the falls, take a deep inhale—just as you practiced during that morning's yoga class—and shout into the void, letting the roar of the water swallow it all. 

There’s so much pent-up energy in you that you start to worry you’re scaring all the Zen businesswomen around you. During a workshop, you realize that most of them are your age, or even younger. They have careers, partners, and some even have kids. It sucks, being reminded of what society expects from you when you’re thirty.

When you get back on Tuesday, the office clerk tells you that someone was looking for you on Monday. Not thinking much of it, you sit down at your desk to start working on your piece about the trip. It’s scorching outside—concrete city in July is unforgiving—and you’re grateful for the office's functioning AC.

The next time you check the clock, it’s already noon. You stand up to stretch and grab the empty mug on your desk. It was a silly gift from your parents when you first got this job—white with a black handle and a funny picture of a green pickle with a face that says "It’s kinda a big dill." As foolish as it sounds, drinking coffee from this mug always makes you smile.

As soon as you step out of your office, Dasha, the desk clerk, waves you over. Even sitting, she’s tall, her head and upper body towering proudly over the counter. She always wears amazing glasses.

“I love your glasses,” you say, complimenting her tortoiseshell frames.

“Thanks,” Dasha smiles. “You have a visitor. I was just about to call your desk.”

The blood in your veins seems to stop. You turn your head toward the guest sofa by the elevators. There’s no doubt who the visitor is.

“He said his name was Caramel—Carmel? Sorry!” Dasha fumbles with the name, blushing and nervously fiddling with her pen. “I should’ve written it down!”

Of course, it’s Carmen.

“You’re fine,” you assure her with a quick smile. Taking a very, very deep breath, you ask sweetly, “Could you send Caramel to meeting room three?”

‘I’m so Zen,’ you tell yourself as you walk to the kitchen, giving Dasha and Carmen a few minutes. If you’re going to meet him, it’s going to be on your terms, you decide standing by the fridge. Or, hiding by the fridge?

Wearing a summery yet elegant dress, heeled clogs, and your hair up, you look nothing like you ever did at The Bear. You’re pleased to discover, just before opening the door to meeting room three, that the tight feeling in your stomach isn’t just nerves—it’s also a bit of excitement and confidence.

The frosted glass door closes behind you, and you watch as Carmen’s eyes land on you. He’s already seated in one of the uncomfortable white plastic chairs, and now he’s looking at you. His gaze drops to your legs, where the frilled hem of your dress stops just above your knees, then to the mug you’re still holding, though it’s empty.

“Hey,” he greets you, shifting as if he might stand up. You sit across from him, setting the mug on the table.

“Hi,” you reply, curious about what he’s going to say. You’re fairly sure he’s here to apologize, probably sent by Natalie and Sydney—maybe even Richie—to make things right. You had texted Natalie to say you needed to focus on your "real" job as an excuse to avoid going back to the restaurant. Now, you wish you had told her the truth.

“I brought you something,” Carmen says, awkwardly pulling out a paper bag. “Thought you might be hungry.” He hesitates, then adds, “It’s smoked mozzarella mezzelune.” When you don’t make a move to take it, he places the bag back in his lap.

Leaning back in your chair, you fight the urge to cross your arms. You probably feel as out of place as he does right now—but you’re not about to let him see that.

“We didn’t have to meet here,” he says, glancing nervously around the room. “I just wanted to bring the food.”

You blink a few times, wanting to make him even more uncomfortable. “You could’ve left it at reception,” you say calmly.

Carmen rubs a hand over his face and purses his lips. “About before—the recipe. It was all bullshit.”

You grimace. That doesn’t sound like an apology. You're starting to lose faith that Carmen is even capable of one. Disappointed and at a loss for words, you scoff, and Carmen’s eyes dart back to yours. He looks almost offended, which really pisses you off.

“Bullshit,” you repeat, your voice steady. “I’m not interested in this, Carmen,” you say, meeting his gaze without wavering. “Go to hell with your food.”

He looks down, fidgeting with the paper bag. “I’m terrible at this.”

“Terrible at what? Apologizing? Well, it’s past time you learned.”

The urge to shout at him is strong. You want him to feel as humiliated as you did. But you won’t. He spent his whole life in an environment where people yelled for different reasons—or no reason at all. That’s not your style.

Not expecting anything else from him, you push your chair back, the screeching noise cutting through the tense moment, sending a shiver down your spine.

When Carmen suddenly stands as well, his chair scraping even louder, your heart jumps. You gasp, nearly sick from the fright.

“I—I also came to tell you that I’ll do it,” he stammers. “I’ll do the interview.”

You study him for a moment. Is he serious?

“This isn’t what I want, Carmen,” you say, shaking your head and rubbing your wrist. “Why now?”

“I talked to Syd and the crew. It’s the right thing to do. Right for the restaurant.”

He’s sincere, as far as you can tell. His eyes look huge, and that tortured artist look is back. A martyr. How much does he enjoy playing that role?

“Please, don’t ruin my Zen,” you say quietly, not wanting to return to how you felt a few days ago.

“I’m not interested anymore,” you add, praying Rob won’t find out and fire you. “Dasha will see you out. Or you can take the elevator.” The condescension in your voice is clear, but you’re not sure if Carmen even notices.

—

For the next two days, you decide to work from home and mope. Calling Becky isn’t an option because she would probably go talk to Natalie and tell her everything. The feelings of anger and humiliation are mixing within you, and you don’t know which one makes you more miserable.

When you get back to work, Rob calls you over to his office. Shit, you think.

You walk in with a smile and confidence—fake it till you make it. The usual clutter of papers and magazines is still there, but Rob himself seems unusually animated, almost buzzing with excitement. He waves you in, barely able to contain a grin. “Take a seat,” he says, his tone a little too eager.

You sit down cautiously, trying to gauge what's coming. Rob leans forward, resting his elbows on his desk, and you can see he’s practically bursting to share something. “So, I got a call this morning,” he starts, and you immediately feel a sense of dread creeping in. “It was from Natalie, the manager over at The Bear.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you force yourself to stay composed. You nod, prompting him to continue. “She told me that Carmen Berzatto—yes, that Carmen—wants to do the interview and a photoshoot,” Rob says.

“A—a photoshoot?” you stammer. “Is this the same Carmen Berzatto?” God, you couldn’t imagine Carmen wanting to be a center of attention like that. He would probably die right on the spot.

Rob ignores your snarky remark—as he often does—leaning even closer, his excitement palpable. “And get this—he specifically requested that you be the one to do it.”

He pauses, waiting for your reaction, clearly expecting you to share in his enthusiasm. But all you feel is a mix of shock and apprehension. “Rob, I—” you start, but he cuts you off, too caught up in the moment.

“I mean, this is huge!” he exclaims, practically bouncing in his chair. “The Bear is blowing up, and an exclusive like this could improve all the important numbers for us. And he wants you—he’s insisting on it! Do you have any idea how big this could be for your career?”

You do, of course. An exclusive interview with Carmen could put you on the map in a major way. But all you can think about is that last encounter in the meeting room, the awkwardness, the unresolved tension, and the anger laced in bitterness you thought you had finally let go of. Rob notices your hesitation and softens his tone, though his excitement is still simmering beneath the surface. “Look, I know there’s some history here,” he says, a bit more gently. “But this is a massive opportunity. And honestly, if Carmen wants you specifically, there’s something there. He’s not the type to just pick someone randomly, right?”

You shake your head and swallow hard, your mind racing. The offer is tempting, the kind of opportunity that doesn’t come around often. But it also means facing Carmen again, reopening wounds you thought were starting to heal but ignoring the issue—the healthy way, you think bitterly. But also, you would need to contact Nat and Sydney again about your place in The Bear, which you’ve been putting on hold for a long time now, in internet terms.

Rob senses your inner turmoil and leans back, giving you some space. “I’m not going to pressure you, but I really think you should consider it. We could make this the cover story. It’s that big.”

The room is silent for a moment as Rob waits for your response, his eagerness practically vibrating off him. You’re absolutely sure that if you don’t agree to this project, Rob will ask another editor, or even hire a freelancer. As much as you want to be offended a bit longer, letting it simmer inside you, you also want to do this with The Bear staff. As Natalie must know—this is all her doing, after all, you suppose—the visibility for the restaurant is going to be huge.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. Then, you make your decision. “I’ll do it,” you say, your voice firmer than you expected.

Rob’s face lights up instantly. “That’s what I’m talking about!” he exclaims, practically beaming. “I knew you’d come through. This is going to be incredible, I can feel it.”

His enthusiasm reassures you, and for a brief moment, you let yourself feel excited, too.

Rob starts rattling off details, already planning how to make this the magazine’s biggest feature yet. “We’ll do a full spread—interview, photoshoot, the works. We can even tie it into some of the broader trends in the culinary world. This could be huge!”

You nod, letting his words wash over you, but part of your mind is still focused on the impending meeting with Carmen. You pretty much sent him to hell. How will you handle this?

“Let’s get the ball rolling,” Rob says, snapping you back to the present. “I’ll coordinate with Natalie to set up the interview. We’ll get the photographer involved, and I’ll make sure you have everything you need.”

“Thanks, Rob,” you say, managing a small smile, not mentioning that you will get in touch with Natalie too. “I’ll make sure it’s worth the hype.”

“I have no doubt,” Rob replies confidently. “This is going to be something special.”

As you walk out of his office, the reality of what you just agreed to starts to settle in. You’re going to see Carmen again, face to face, in a setting that’s as personal as it is professional. It’s also a chance to prove to yourself that you can handle it—and maybe even come out stronger on the other side.

The nerves are still there, but so is a newfound resolve. This is your story to tell, and you’re ready to own it.

---

Naturally, you had to tone down your emotions in Rob’s office, as he didn’t know anything about your work you had done for The Bear or the situation with the chef himself. The need to show off your professional skills, both to Rob and Carmen, won. Natalie nearly pisses herself—her words, not yours!—when you confirm the news over the phone. She shares with you that it actually was Carmen’s idea to do the interview, supported by Sydney and Richie and Tina and everyone. The shoot not so much, but he’s gonna do it too, she says, and you can hear the mischievous smile in her voice.

The photoshoot is set to happen in a studio your magazine usually uses for smaller productions, as it’s only Carmen you need to get. Rob informed you that he had sent a photographer to The Bear earlier, so the photos from the place, as well as photos of the team, are already done. You know this from Natalie and Sydney already, who thanked you probably more than a million times for “arranging this,” but in front of Rob, you play guileless.

It’s awfully quiet in the room when you enter, the swinging door swooshing quietly behind you. No wonder. The shoot had to be planned on Sunday—the only day Carmen’s not at work, which has been met with not very enthusiastic responses. There’s no music playing, which is very unusual.

The studio has high ceilings and large windows that let in natural light. It obviously used to be a factory, now rebuilt into a fancy, modern building with that historic edge. You’ve been here a couple of times before.

You spot the photographer, Elena, adjusting her equipment with the precision of someone who knows exactly what she’s doing. She smiles at you and you give each other a quick hug. With a shoot this small, there’s no one doing production, as you’re using the magazine’s regular talents. As much as you want to stall, you know that Carmen must be sitting on the make-up chair, very probably freaking out. It’s a bit unpleasant, but the fact that he’s more uncomfortable than you here makes you feel better, helps you calm your nerves down. The situation is similar to the one in the office a few weeks back, and you realize it’s more your confidence than maliciousness.

Your steps echo as you walk around the corner to the make-up and hair spot by one of the big windows. Carmen’s just getting up from the high chair, his posture screaming uneasiness.

“Hi Margot,” you say to the make-up artist with a piercing in her eyebrow. She’s younger than you, so you get why she thinks that the 00’s are so cool, since that’s probably when she was born.

Then the spotlight is on Carmen and you, and it takes you both to the moment when you approached him outside of The Bear months ago.

Carmen stares at you without blinking, probably relieved to see a familiar face, and also terrified, because it’s you. It’s crystal clear he doesn’t know what is appropriate for him to do in this setting.

Deciding quickly, you move towards him, giving him a similar hug as to Elena—quick, light, and impersonal. When you feel his palm press against your lower back fleetingly, the touch immediately makes you shiver, unfortunately not completely in a bad way, but you don’t have the time to ponder.

“I’ve just fixed his hair a bit and covered some bits here and there,” Margot explains, already cleaning her brushes. You notice immediately that Carmen’s curls are more defined and softer looking. He also appears less tired, but that’s surely due to Margo’s concealer magic.

“Thank you, Margo, that’s perfect,” you say as Carmen stands unmoving.

“Carmen just needs to moisturize more,” she adds cheekily, giving Carmen a wink over her shoulder.

You suppress a laugh. You’re absolutely sure Carmen has no idea what moisturizing or face cream means. He’s as lost here as you had been in the Bear's kitchen.

“Uhm—” Carmen makes an unsure noise, his hand reaching up to his hair, but Margo interrupts him:

“No touching!” she says hurriedly. “Not until the end of the shoot.”

You laugh for real now.

“How is it looking, guys?” Elena calls from the other side of the studio, checking on you.

“We’re fine. Carmen’s about to get changed, so you can get ready, El.”

You turn back to Carmen, who’s checking the studio with a mix of hesitance and curiosity. He’s dressed in light blue denim—unusual—and a gray jumper you’ve seen on him before.

“I’ll help,” you assure him. As the stylist is absent, you promised Rob that you would give a hand on the shoot. Besides, some selected garments are meant to be ready, plus you know they had asked Carmen to bring some of his stuff. “Follow me.”

Disappearing behind a screen that creates a changing space with clothes and steamers, you come properly face to face.

“Hey,” you say, unable to think of anything better. Your voice remains steady despite the slight flutter in your chest.

“Hey,” he replies, offering a small, almost uncertain smile. He glances around, taking in the unfamiliar setting. “This is… different.”

“Yeah,” you agree, gesturing to the setup around you. “But it’s all about making you look good.”

Carmen chuckles softly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. “No pressure, right?”

You smile, unable to play the Ice Queen anymore, and for a moment, the awkwardness between you dissipates. “Let’s get started.”

Carmen glances at you, seemingly reassured by your calm demeanor, even if he’s out of his element. You walk over to the clothes neatly hung on a rack. Immediately, you spot the cool embroidered Bode jackets, simple Carhartt pieces, more tailored Ami Paris clothes. There’s Maharishi and PAM too, probably included by the stylist based on your comment that Carmen likes the workwear style, though they are a bit too colorful.

You tell Carmen a little about every brand, trying to get him out of his head and focus on something else. To give him a taste of the world of magazines, media, and fashion. Similar to what he had done for you in the restaurant—when he was in a mood to talk about his dishes, ideas about combining ingredients, and crafting new flavors.

“What about this?” you suggest, handing him a soft, tan brown Carhartt WIP suede jacket. You know that Carmy knows Carhartt because you’ve seen him in their clothes, and you also know that he’s a big denim head. This garment will also help him not to feel as exposed in front of the camera at the start.

Carmen takes the jacket, his brow furrowing slightly as if he’s analyzing every stitch. He slips it on, and you can’t help but note how well it fits him. Natalie nailed the sizes of his clothes perfectly.

You go wait for him at the spot that Elena has set up, Margo already waiting there too, in case any adjustments to the hair are needed during the shoot. When Carmen finally walks over, Elena gives him a reassuring nod as he takes his place in front of the camera, hands in the jacket’s pockets. You watch from the sidelines, a little amused but mostly impressed at how the whole scene has come together. The large windows bathe the room in soft, natural light, casting shadows that play off the industrial vibe of the studio.

Carmen is nervous—anyone can see that—but he stands tall, doing his best to follow Elena’s quiet directions. You watch the laptop screen from the corner of your eye, where all photos appear after Elena presses the shutter, frame after frame. Carmen’s unease is apparent, and for a second you wonder if this really was such a good idea after all.

After another five painful minutes, it’s clear that it’s not getting better. You share a quick look with Elena and say, “Could you put some music on, girls?” Then, turning to Carmen, you add, “I think we can change the outfit now,” you say easily.

You go back to the styling corner, Carmen following you. When you’re both hidden again, you glance at Carmen whose whole body is stiff, discomfort oozing off him.

“This is really not so bad,” you start, but Carmen shakes his head, running a hand through his hair, messing it up in a way that would drive Margo mad if she saw it.

“I’m a chef, not… this,” he says, gesturing to the setting. “I’m not supposed to be in front of cameras, doing interviews, pretending like—like I fucking know what I’m doing. This is all bullshit.”

You take a deep breath, trying to figure out how to reach him. You’ve seen him under pressure before, but this is different. This isn’t about the restaurant; this is about him feeling out of place, exposed.

“Carmen, you’re right. You’re a chef, and a damn good one,” you say, keeping your tone calm and reassuring. It’s strange to be this way for a person who you’ve only ever seen confident and sure, except for what happened in the office two weeks ago.

“But this is part of it, too,” you carry on, trying to catch Carmen’s eye. “People want to know the person behind the food. They want to see the passion, the creativity. Even the struggle. That’s what makes the Bear special—it’s you.”

He looks at you, eyes filled with doubt. “But what if… what if they see through it? What if they realize I’m just faking it?”

You step closer, close enough to reach out, but you don’t. Instead, you offer him a small, genuine smile. “Then they’ll see that you’re human, just like the rest of us. And that’s okay. You don’t have to be perfect, Carmen.”

He closes his eyes, exhaling slowly, trying to steady himself. “I don’t know if I can be that guy.”

“You don’t have to be anyone but yourself,” you reply gently. “And if you’re not feeling it, we can stop. We don’t have to do this. We could just use the pictures from the Bear.”

Carmen opens his eyes and looks at you, something shifting in his expression. It’s still a mix of fear and doubt, but there’s also a flicker of determination. “You really think I can do this?”

“Absolutely,” you confirm with deadly certainty.

The next moment, “1972” by The Smashing Pumpkins starts playing from the speakers in the studio.

Carmen surprises you by taking the initiative and choosing the clothes by himself. You turn when he starts shedding the jacket. Instead, you hang it back on the rack, needing something to do. When the rustling stops, you face the chef again. He’s wearing a pair of vintage Levi’s and a striped sailor crew neck. He looks good in the dark colors.

“Yeah?” he checks, trying to gauge your reaction.

“Yeah,” you nod, hoping it’s not obvious how much you like what you’re seeing. “Yeah.”

Gathering your courage, you reach to roll the sleeves up, exposing Carmen’s forearms, then move up to straighten the seams on his shoulders. You catch his gaze and this time, there’s a flicker of something—perhaps gratitude, or just recognition that you’re both navigating unfamiliar territory. Not just here, on the set, but also between you. You’re discovering another layer of your relationship, perhaps sensing that at this moment, you have the upper hand.

Carmen's expression softens from that tight apprehension to something more open, more trusting. “Thanks,” he says quietly, then looks down at himself, as if trying to imagine how he’ll appear in front of the camera now.

You step back slightly, giving him space, but also giving yourself a moment to collect your thoughts. The tension between you feels different than before, less about awkwardness and more like a mutual acknowledgment that neither of you has the playbook for this. And yet, you’re figuring it out together.

“Here,” you point Carmen to a big mirror in the corner, and he checks the reflection.

“I think I like it,” he says after a moment, and you give him a thumbs up, the silly gesture completely honest.

Back on set, with the music playing, the atmosphere lightens. Carmen doesn’t smile, but there’s a shift in the way he carries himself. He seems more settled in his skin, the dark colors enhancing his quiet confidence. Elena notices the difference immediately; she barely needs to give direction this time. He’s still far from relaxed, but there’s an authenticity in the way he stands, his gaze steady.

The photos start to reflect that subtle transformation, and you feel a tremendous sense of relief as you watch them pop up on the screen. Watching him, you feel an odd sense of pride. This isn’t just about Carmen being in front of the camera; it’s about him facing something that makes him uncomfortable and pushing through it, allowing himself to be vulnerable in this position. If you’re completely honest, you’re surprised that he’s willing to go through with this.

Elena seems pleased, giving Carmen a reassuring nod after every few clicks of the camera. When she finally steps back and lowers her lens, you see Carmen visibly exhale, tension easing from his frame.

“That was good,” Elena praises, glancing at the screen. “We’ve got some solid shots here.”

Carmen looks over, seemingly a little surprised, like he wasn’t quite sure it had gone as well as she said. “See?” you say, nudging him gently. “You nailed it.”

Carmen gives you a small, genuine smile this time. “Maybe,” he says, scratching the back of his head, messing up his styled hair.

After the third outfit change, Rob shows up, as planned, alongside the magazine’s publisher. As this had been arranged before the shoot, you hope it doesn’t throw Carmen off balance too much.

Luckily, Carmen slips into his professional chef mode as Rob greets him, calling him “Chef,” and thanking him sincerely for the opportunity. Rob shoots you a happy grin over Carmen’s shoulder. 

The final outfit is dark gray tailored wool pants and a simple white tee, similar to what you know as Carmen’s daily uniform—probably why he chose it. You suggest adding a nice leather belt with a silver clasp to complete the look. Elena positions Carmen on a high stool this time, changing angles and perspectives.

For the first time today, Carmen looks truly at ease, despite the additional onlookers. You know Rob is looking for the perfect shot for next month’s cover.

Elena captures a few more shots before lowering her camera. “That’s it! We’re done,” she announces, a smile of satisfaction on her face. “Carmen, you did amazing.”

Carmen slides off the stool, his shoulders visibly relaxing as the weight of the shoot lifts. He looks over at you, a small, almost sheepish grin playing at his lips. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought.”

You laugh softly, walking over to him. “Told you. You nailed it.”

Rob joins you and Carmen. “Chef, you were great today,” he says, clapping Carmen on the shoulder. “Can’t wait to see the final shots.”

Carmen nods, clearly more comfortable now that the shoot is over. “Thanks, Rob. I appreciate it.”

Rob turns to you with a grin. “You too. Thanks for making this happen.”

You nod, feeling a bit of pride at how smoothly things turned out. You’re careful not to jinx it—after all, the interview is still looming in the second half of the day, after you’ve had something to eat.

For the interview, you and Carmen sit down in a corner of the studio that’s been set up to look more intimate—two chairs facing each other with a small table in between. Your notebook rests on your lap. Elena is supposed to take a few shots of the formal interview, and now it’s your turn to be nervous. Very nervous.

You did an extensive amount of research and preparation for the article, keeping in mind your personal history with Carmen. He’s not just another personality you’re interviewing. He’s a guy you once knew. A chef at whose restaurant you had worked, or volunteered. These facts leave you feeling like you’re balancing on a thin rope, and you’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how to approach the interview. In the end, you decide to let Carmen set the tone. He could keep it personal or strictly professional.

“How did you enjoy the shoot?” you ask with a mischievous smile, starting off lightly. You don’t need to check your notes for that.

Carmen smiles, rubbing his lips with his fingers. “It was a new, interesting experience. I’m afraid I wasn’t very good, but I hope you’ll be able to find a couple of decent images.”

“And one excellent for the cover,” you add, careful not to interrupt him.

Out of habit and nervousness, you adjust the recorder on the table between you, making sure it’s on. Then you glance at your notes.

“When we met in Copenhagen ten years ago, you were staging at Noma. How do you look back on those times—when you were at the beginning of your journey but already experiencing the kitchens of the world’s best restaurants?”

It takes a moment before Carmen responds. “I was very young and very lucky. I took every opportunity that came my way, worked hard—harder than most—to learn and grow, and hopefully to stand out.” Carmen’s words are measured, careful. “Noma was my first experience outside the US, and it was intimidating. But also—it’s an incredibly peaceful and inspiring place. I loved every moment there. It also helped that I knew someone familiar in Copenhagen. That definitely made me feel less alone.”

You catch yourself staring, a warm feeling spreading through your chest—liquid heat filling every corner. You imagine this is what drinking Felix Felicis must feel like. You smile, and Carmen returns it with a quick smile of his own.

Clearing your throat, you prepare for the real questions, the ones that have to live up to everyone’s expectations—Rob’s, Carmen’s, and mostly your own. As the interview progresses, you feel a shift in the atmosphere. The initial tension has faded, replaced by a sense of collaboration. You’re both here for the same reason: to tell a story that matters.

You ask Carmen about his journey in the culinary world, the chefs he’s worked with, and the chefs he looks up to. You discuss diligence, innovation, and respect. You briefly touch on the topic of Michael and Carmen’s family, letting him decide how much he wants to share.

“You can be more or less fortunate with the starting position you get in life. That’s out of your hands. But the rest is in your hands. There’s no point in thinking about how others might have it easier—it will only paralyze you, trust me. You have to focus on what you can do, what you can change. Take the little you have and turn it into everything you have. Be proud of it. Stand up for yourself. Value yourself, but also others.”

His words are thoughtful, and you can tell he’s reflecting deeply.

There’s a pause, and you realize he’s waiting for your next question. You nod, acknowledging the weight of his words. Carmen answered everything with a mix of humility and passion, offering you—and the audience—glimpses of the person behind the chef: the struggles, the doubts, the relentless drive to succeed.

You glance at your notes, then back at him.

“That’s it. Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to share a glimpse of your life and The Bear’s story with Taste readers,” you say, finishing with a cheeky smirk, hoping Carmen knows you’re sincere.

Carmen chuckles at your tone. “Thank you for having me,” he replies, smiling with that familiar mix of modesty and quiet strength. “It was a pleasure to talk. Hopefully, your readers won’t be too bored.”

You laugh lightly, shaking your head. “I doubt that. If anything, they’ll be more intrigued than ever. You’ve got a story people want to hear—and not just about the food.”

He raises an eyebrow, studying you. "Well, that’s good to hear."

You stand up and reach out to shake his hand, a gesture of thanks and closure. He takes it, his grip firm but gentle. Then Rob approaches with more handshakes and thanks, joined by Mrs. Sullivan—the publisher. You quietly slip away, not wanting to disturb their networking, and head over to thank Elena and Margot, who have already packed up their gear while you were interviewing Carmen.

“You guys are cute together,” Margot teases, winking at you. “I didn’t know you actually knew him knew him.”

You absolutely do blush, and Elena adds, “Totally,” giving you a sly grin. “He IS cute.”

“You should see him in the kitchen,” you grumble, shoving your notebook into your tote bag to hide your flushed face.

Suddenly, Carmen appears next to you, having parted ways with Rob and Mrs. Sullivan, who likely have better things to do on a Sunday. “You did good,” he says quietly, almost as an afterthought, as if offering reassurance you didn’t know you needed.

Your chest warms again with that liquid heat, a mix of pride and gratitude blooming. You offer him one last, genuine smile.

“Thanks, Carmen,” you reply softly.

“Actually,” he begins, looking nervous again, hands on his hips, “I—I wanted to talk to you. If you have time now?”

He glances back at Rob, but the man is nowhere to be seen, already gone. Carmen nods, seeming relieved.

“Lead the way.”

—

The weather’s been sweltering lately, the sun heating up the city’s concrete walls, asphalt roads, and stone pavements until it feels like being in a big kiln. Luckily, the coffee shop has air conditioning, which both Carmen and you welcome. They are offering unusual caffeine drinks—most of them including something fruity and milky. Carmen orders a Coke with ice without checking the menu, and you go for an iced blueberry matcha latte.  

“Thank you for—” Carmen says when he’s seated properly, across from you once again.  

“Really, that’s enough of the thanks,” you wave him off, but Carmen talks over you, “For respecting that I wanna keep some things private. During the interview.”  

“Ah,” you nod slowly. “You know, normally I would send all the questions for authorization first,” you tell him truthfully, stirring your drink with the thin paper straw, mixing the green matcha with the milk froth and the purple syrup. “I wanted to be a bit nasty.”  

It’s Carmen’s turn to slowly nod, once. “I see,” he says. “I’m not surprised, honestly.”  

You fiddle with the collar of your cotton blouse nervously.  

“I appreciate that you had my back today,” Carmen continues. “It means a lot to me, you know?”

Not used to hearing kind words from Carmen, you find it hard to look at him directly, so you keep staring into your drink instead. “I think I do.”

As if sensing your hesitation, Carmen gives you a second before he asks:

“So, you have a thing for clothes, huh? Fashion, I mean.”

“As you do,” you shoot back playfully but honestly.

“I guess I enjoy the aesthetic aspect of it… I really liked some of the clothes today. It was nice to try something new. I’m not very good at new things,” he muses. “I liked the dress you wore in your office the other day. You looked—different,” Carmen adds uncertainly, playing with the napkin under the sweaty glass.

“I don’t wear dresses very often,” you stammer out, trying to hide the flush creeping up your neck. “And in the restaurant, I wanted to be in something that can get dirty. So… not too fancy clothes.”

Carmen notices how caught off guard you are right now.

“I wanted to bring up the topic of what happened at your work,” he explains slowly, hesitantly. “And what happened at The Bear before that… A lot of the aggression comes from my own frustration. And I shouldn’t take it out on other people. Like I said, there’s no excuse for it.”

You squirm in your seat, nervous to talk about the topic out loud for the first time. “It’s hard, Carm. First, you pretend you don’t know me. Then you barely talk to me. Then I feel like we’re actually starting to get along well, but you accuse me of this huge nonsense. All the while, I’m only trying to help you.”

“I know.”

“Then why?”

“Because I don’t know how to respond to kindness.”

Your eyes fill up with tears, and you have to blink a couple of times to chase them away. You take a deep breath, your chest expanding with it. Carmen’s sitting still on the stool, looking like a schoolboy who had misbehaved during recess.

“Be kind to kind,” you say simply, spreading your hands, your eyebrows raising.

Carmen chuckles, sounding very self-deprecating, scratching his nose. “I’m working on it.”

He might think you’ll let it slide. You won’t. “Promise,” you press, urgent. “Promise me.”

His eyes meet yours, and he says it. “I promise.” Then once more, in a stronger voice: “I promise. And I’m sorry.” And your heart breaks for him because you know he’s never known much kindness.

“Deal.” To keep your hands occupied, you take out your chewing gum, wrapping it in an empty sugar packet. Then you raise your iced latte in a mock toast, taking a first sip of the drink.

“Just... be careful with the 'nasty' part,” Carmen says with a slight grin, breaking the tension. “I don’t think either of us needs more of that.”  

You chuckle. “Fair enough. I’ll try to keep the nastiness in check.”  

Carmen smirks, shaking his head as he relaxes back into his chair. “I appreciate that.”

[astrangetorpedo]

IN INTERVIEW

Julien Baker, the interview 6/8/2016

At just 20 years old, Julien Baker gave us last year a first album of intense and rare emotional force, the superb Sprained Ankle reviewed here . A moving record that left a deep and lasting mark on me. It was therefore impossible to miss the young American's arrival in Paris and not to take advantage of the opportunity to try to get to know this outstanding artist a little better. A meeting was thus organized thanks to the invaluable help of Sean, her manager, in a café in the 12th arrondissement, two hours before the young lady's very first Parisian concert, on May 24. A one-on-one meeting that revealed to me an adorable and voluble young woman, incredibly touching and sincere, and above all determined to seize life with all her might! A moment of exchange and sharing that I am not ready to forget.

Hello Julien!

Julien Baker : Hello!

First of all, thank you very much for granting us this interview. I am a big fan of your music and it makes me really happy to meet you!

Oh, thank you! It's a great pleasure for me too, you know! I still can't believe that people like my music enough to want to meet me to talk about it. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart, really!

Perfect! Let’s start at the beginning of your story. I read that you’ve been making music for a while now. Could you summarize the journey that led you to where you are today?

Yeah, sure! I started listening to music in middle school. It was rock, I was really into it with painted nails, black eye makeup, all that stuff! [laughs] Then I started playing in bands, punk bands mostly. Then I joined Forrister which is the band I still play in today. We were playing shows in cities around our area. Then I went to college and a friend of mine who worked in a studio there offered me to record with him for free. Since my band couldn't be there, I did it solo, without any specific plans. I put the album out on Bandcamp for $2 or $3 a copy.

That's when Sean [Julien's manager] contacted me and suggested we release the album in a more official and professional way. I told him that I was actually in a band, Forrister, and that no one would be interested in me as a solo artist. He insisted and even though I didn't believe it at all, I agreed to give it a try. I'll always remember the day he called me to tell me that NPR [National Public Radio] was going to play my single. I hung up crying and immediately called my mom all excited to tell her the news! But then, as things seemed to start to take off for me, I started to doubt myself. I felt guilty towards the rest of the band, thinking that they would resent me for doing this project without them. So I called the drummer and asked him what they thought and he said they were just proud and super happy and not mad at me in any way. So I kept going and here I am! I never thought I would come to Europe and do all this, it's crazy, really!

During the band's time, did you already have this desire to write your own songs?

I don't think I had any real unfulfilled desire to do this.

But you were writing?

Yes, I wrote my own songs. But not because the band was holding me back or preventing me from doing it within the collective. It's just that sometimes you write songs but they don't fit the moment. So I put those lyrics aside, like that, without any specific goal. I've always written and played in different bands. There was enough space for all that, things didn't have to be done exclusively in one framework or another.

Were your parents musicians?

Not really. Well my dad bought me a guitar and showed me how to play it. So I started playing by practicing at home on my own. I also took piano lessons but for a very short time. My teacher didn't really like me because I didn't work hard enough. I just played by ear without wanting to learn to read music and he didn't like that. So I taught myself. But my parents were big music fans. They played records all the time at home. When I was younger I wanted to go to a concert, my dad would come with me to make sure I was safe! He was the only adult in the middle of all these tattooed and pierced kids! [laughs] Oddly enough it never bothered me. When he made a surprise appearance at the Bowery Ballroom for my concert in New York, I was so proud! He and my mom have always been a great support!

This is really great!

Yes I know !

In addition to being an author and composer, you are also a student. Are you still going to university?

I just finished my semester. It's currently summer vacation. But I think I'm going to take a break in the fall. I completed the theoretical part of my literature course thanks to online courses. The last thing I need to fully validate my teaching diploma is the practical part, in school with students. I tried to do it last fall but it's complicated to carry out both projects at the same time: give lessons during the week then take a plane to California or New York on the weekend to play a concert, before returning to teach on Monday morning! So I'm going to take a break to devote all my time to music.

Do you want to teach one day?

I think I would really enjoy teaching. I love it. As a teenager I was a summer camp counselor, I love children. So yes it would be really cool to teach!

You studied literature. Did that influence your way of writing?

Yes, totally! I try to feed myself as much as I can from all these different ways of perceiving life and emotions that I find in books. It enriches me intellectually speaking. I have the feeling of learning new things about myself each time I discover a new author and this is then reflected in my writing I think, consciously or unconsciously.

Are you familiar with French literature?

Voltaire! I often joke with my professor friends that I would really like to have a big Voltaire and Cervantes tattoo! I already have a Gabriel Garcia Marquez tattoo [Julien then shows me his 2-part tattoo on the inside of his 2 wrists]…

Is he your favorite writer?

One of my favorites, I can't choose just one! And so when my students would complain that Voltaire is an old man who's not cool, I could show them my Voltaire tattoo and prove to them that it's really cool! [laughs] Reading Candide really changed my life. It was incredible! I think the translation of the title is The Optimist , which is quite ironic. Cervantes wrote Don Quixote and we have this word in English, "quixotic" which means optimistic but optimistic to the extreme, to the point where even if everything is going wrong in your life and you know it, you continue to believe in it despite everything. There is a really romantic and admirable dimension to that attitude I find. Same for Candide where there is this quote that I always come back to when I feel really bad and which says: "I wanted to kill myself a hundred times, but I still loved life" . I think I cried when I first read that sentence. Anyway, I could talk about literature for hours, don't drag me down that dangerous path! [laughs]

Haha, ok. So back to the music! Listening to your album I couldn't help but think of two other artists I really like: Sharon Van Etten and TORRES…

I love TORRES!

Me too! I even did my very first interview with her!

Wow! She's amazing!

Do you agree with this comparison even if the artists in question do not come from the same scene as you?

I totally agree with this comparison! As a teenager I only listened to punk and thought that anything that wasn't punk was worthless. Then I grew up as a musician and learned to appreciate all styles. When you really love music, you love an artist as long as their music is honest and good, no matter what the style. It doesn't matter if it's hip hop or country or whatever!

I totally agree!

And so I'm a big fan of TORRES! I loved her first album, the one before Sprinter . The song Honey is the very first one I heard from her.

The same !

And oh my god, what a song! I played with her in Chicago, I was added as the opening act at the very last minute, I felt so honored! On my way to the dressing room, I ran into her and as I was saying "Oh sorry, I don't want to bother you" she said "No, come on, this is a shared space, you have as much right to be here as I do" and she kindly invited me in. As for Sharon, it's funny because the first time I met her, she asked me to have lunch with her, can you imagine having lunch in New York with Sharon Van Etten! And she told me she was also going to invite her friend Mackenzie [Mackenzie Scott aka TORRES]. But our phones died and we couldn't get a hold of her. So in Chicago TORRES couldn't make the connection, I was just the little girl at the door!

Excellent! Are there any other musical influences that you would claim?

Do you know David Banzan?

Nope…

Ok. There's a band called Pedro The Lion and David Bazan is the lead singer. He influenced me quite a bit. And do you know Death Cab For Cutie?

Yes of course !

They were the first non-punk band I listened to. At the time I only listened to loud and fast music, but when I heard Transatlanticism for the first time it was a shock, everything changed. They really meant a lot to me.

Your texts are very strong and very personal. When you wrote them, did you think about the impact they could have on those around you first and then on the general public?

Well, at first, I didn't imagine that this solo album would lead me anywhere, I was convinced that my music would only be made with my band Forrister. So when I released the album on Bandcamp, I really thought that only my friends would listen to it. So I wrote all these songs like that, just for me, without really thinking about the scope of the lyrics. And I'm ultimately happy that I didn't think about it because if I had known what was waiting for me, I think I would have most certainly changed things, I would have probably been more reserved in my words. But if it's difficult for me to show my vulnerability, I realize that it's totally worth it when young people come up to me after concerts to tell me that my music has helped them in difficult times in their lives. It's of course a little embarrassing for me to share such intimate things but if these things make others feel good, then I think it's worth it in the end.

But isn't it a little scary to expose yourself so completely naked and transparent? It's so brave, I don't know if I could do it myself!

Well, you see, it's exactly the same for me, I'm not sure I would have been able to do it if I had known everything in advance! But now that it has happened, I feel that from now on I have the right, the license to be brave. Perhaps it was the plans of destiny or God, something like that.

And isn't it too difficult for you to sing songs every day that inevitably bring you back to painful moments?

I think there are two options. Option one: I can sing these songs every night, let them take me back in time and feel sorry for myself. Option two: there is the quote from this poet that I love who says that all the horrible things in life just need to be seen from a different and courageous perspective. Things that seem bad can indeed turn out to be good in the end. So I have chosen to let the dark and sad aspects of my songs become pretexts to be positive and happy. Because yes, all these things have happened to me but if that had not been the case, I probably would never have written these lyrics and I would not be here today in Paris talking to you, Laurence! In the grand scheme of things, everything has a meaning and works for our good in the end.

That's very beautiful what you say! [laughs] To talk about lighter things, this is your first time in Europe, isn't it?

Yes !

How do you feel?

I love it! I have such a good time. Well I don't sleep much... [laughs]

Is it the time difference or the excitement?

Well now it's the excitement! But a week ago it was also the jet lag [laughs]. Imagine, we traveled for over 30 hours straight to get here! I first took a plane to Richmond and then a train to Washington DC. We then took a flight to Iceland where we took another flight to Copenhagen. Once there we took a train but due to a problem on the tracks we had to take a bus that took us to another train! When we arrived at the hotel, we were totally exhausted! [laughs] It was 11 o'clock in the evening but at that time of year the sun hadn't set because we were so far north and my body didn't understand anything at all! But hey after a good night's sleep everything was better! And now if I don't sleep it's just because I don't want to miss anything, not a single minute you know! I thought I would never be able to afford to travel and once again it seems that Destiny's plans are extraordinarily kind to me. I feel so grateful and lucky!

And that's just the beginning!

I hope so! But you know, even if everything had to stop, well in any case it would have been much, much more than I could have imagined! I am so grateful for everything that is happening to me!

Are there any particular places you want to discover?

Sean has been here before and wants to show me places he liked. Today he took me to see the Sacré-Cœur which is beautiful. On my side, there are also places I would like to visit, especially in Barcelona, ​​because I am majoring in Spanish literature. I would like to go to the café where Picasso had his very first exhibition, long before he was famous. I would also like to see the Sagrada Familia, Gaudi's work, visit a museum, buy a Viva Cataluña t-shirt and eat paella. I am so excited to be able to do all these things!

That's great! But it's going to take you some time to do all of this!

We are staying there for the whole festival [Primavera Sound Festival]. So we should have some time. Of course we won't sleep much because in the evening I also want to attend the concerts!

You'll sleep when you get home!

Exactly! Since I am a big coffee drinker, one of my friends gave me a badge for my jacket that says "I will sleep when I am dead" ! [laughs] There are indeed so many things to experience in one life! [laughs]

And what are your plans for after the European tour?

We're actually going to be touring until the end of the year.

Will you come back to Europe?

We're going to Australia in November I think. I can't wait! We're also going to tour the States so as for Europe I don't really know... And then I hope to have some free time early next year. I'm always writing new songs that I play live. I must have 30 demos on my computer and I'd really like to record them. So it would be great if I could get into the studio early next year!

Last question: do you have one or more musical recommendations to share with us?

Lucy Dacus!

Oh I love it!

We played together in Washington DC. I had never heard her songs before Washington and I remember hearing the lyrics to Map On A Wall which say "I hope good comes from good and good comes from bad anyway" and I started crying all by myself watching her play. Her music is so beautiful, so powerful! And we have so much in common: questions of spirituality, sexuality and faith, questions about gender too and the place of girls in rock music. We are really like two halves of the same person. We have the same booker and were approached by the same label. And when I saw her again in Richmond I knew we operated exactly the same way. So our biggest fear is that we will one day become jaded and arrogant. We want to remain grateful, sincere and enthusiastic. There are so many people who do this for a long time and end up jaded. It's really great to find someone who feels exactly the same way you do, and that's the case with Lucy. We're platonic soulmates! She's a very, very dear friend.

You must tell her at all costs to come and shoot in Europe and in Paris because there are people waiting for her here!

Promise! I'll send her a message as soon as I have wifi!

Lucy Dacus! A perfect choice! Thank you very much Julien!

Thank you! It was great!

photos by jean-marc ferré 📸

interview by lolo from paris (who has great footage of that paris show on his youtube account) 📝

wayback link for the interview 🔗

[nobodysdaydreams]

And… even MORE Hatchetverse Theory on the history between Webby and her brothers

Based on my earlier poll about the potential history between Webby and her brothers. I'll go through each option and discuss the merits of each theory as well as they ways they could be combined.

The rest of my posts are under "#hatchetverse theory". Read below for an unhinged rant.

Before I dive into the possibilities for what history could exist between the brothers and Webby, I first want to review what little we know about their relationship and why I focus so much on Webby and Wiggly's relationships specifically as opposed to Webby and the other LIB:

We don't know their birth order, but based on the fact Wiggly acts as the leader of the LIB with little resistance from his brothers and Webby's verse in "the web I spin for you" where she talks about her brothers teaching her, currently the most common head canon seems to be that Wiggly is the oldest and Webby is the youngest (I also head canon that the reason Wiggly uses "baby talk" is because that's how he talked to his newborn siblings, and he never grew out of it because he enjoys infantilizing anyone and everyone).

The LIB all seem to want humanity to suffer for different reasons, but out of all of them, Wiggly seems to have the most interesting motivation. Blinky and Nibbly's motivations seems to be the most straightforward: Blinky likes to watch people suffer; Nibbly is hungry. Pokey just wants to put on a one man show and get rid of everyone else that's not him (he's basically an insane version of Hidgens with absolute power), and Tinky just seems to like messing around with time and specifically has it in for the Spankoffskis, but it's unclear exactly why. Wiggly however doesn't just seem to enjoy suffering and chaos just for the sake of his own pleasure. He has Wilbur give a whole speech in Black Friday about capitalism and consumer culture, and none of the other LIB have seemed interested in monologuing about the sins of humanity thus far. Granted, I still have to catch up on Nightmare Time (I know, I'm awful), but I didn't read anything about Nibbly bothering to give a speech about gluttony right before he eats someone.

Additionally, Wiggly is also the one who demands the the teens in NPMD give up what they love the most. Nibbly just wants a snack. The LIB's song also says "Nibbly wants his sacrifice and Wiggly wants his wrath". Wrath? Revenge? Revenge for what? And why just Wiggly, why not all the LIB? It really sounds like Wiggly is the one who is primarily trying to gain something here. Wiggly's brothers seem to be following him because they get what they want, but Wiggly seems to be the driving force here.

Now the question becomes: what does Wiggly want revenge for, and why? Well, several people have pointed out that despite Webby being called a "queen", the LIB are called "lords" (though Wiggly insists on wearing a plastic child's dress up crown to make himself look like a king). There's also a line in the summoning where the LIB sing "we dance around the pentagram and take all out kingdoms back". It's possible Webby took their kingdoms from them, or that they betrayed her to take power if they believed the way she was running things wasn't to their liking, but again, this is unclear.

What does seem more clear is that Wiggly does have a personal grudge against Webby and that the feeling is mutual. He calls her a "stupid b*tch" in Black Friday, whereas Pokey in Nightmare Time only calls her his sister, and I don't think any of the other LIB had demonstrated that level of hatred towards her yet. During the song "The Web I Spin for You", it is clear by the dolls shown in the shots that Webby is singing about her brothers, but the camera focuses in on Wiggly last and holds on him the longest.

So then the question becomes: what happened between Wiggly and Webby? Who betrayed who? Did they both betray each other? What seems the most likely based on what little we know so far?

Let's dive into those poll options.

The first option on the poll was that the Lords in Black used to be good, but turned evil. I was surprised at how few votes this option got given some of the evidence presented in NPMD and "The Web I Spin for You" song that Webby sings in Nightmare Time. I'll spend some time reviewing the evidence for this, since it seems to be the least popular option and some of the evidence for this option could also apply to the others.

There are lines in the song that imply the LIB used to care about Webby, to some degree. It's unclear whether this means they were actually "good guys", but it seems like they either cared about Webby or Webby at least believed they cared about her at some point, most notably when she sings: "You used to keep me at your side, have you given it up?" and "Weren’t you the one to watch my back, unlike the witches you summon?" (which could be referring to Willabella Muckwab, the first witch of Hatchetfield who seems to have started this whole mess).

Webby seems frustrated with her brothers, but doesn't seem to hate them, at least not as viscerally as Wiggly hates her (again, he's the one who seems the most angry at her).

But it doesn't stop there. There's a few other lines in "The Web I Spin For You" that are even more concerning:

The lines I'm referring to are: "Why do you haunt me like a ghost? You’re supposed to love me the most." And "Got me in the spell you cast. The iris of your eye is black. You have a tendency to stab my back. Just like the witches you summon."

The backstabbing line implies that they betrayed her, not the other way around. But the lines chosen to convey this are particularly concerning when you consider two things: 1) the plot to NPMD and 2) the pictures of the black book and the black blade I found on the Starkid Wiki page (posted below).

There seem to be numbers marking the positioning of the knife, numbers which appear on other pages from the book on the Starkid Wiki page, but you can look at that yourself. Now, what IS interesting here is the picture. Five people in black robes, one holding a knife, his point taller than the rest like the book illustrates, and the knife is positioned in such a way that it could quite literally stab the woman in white in the back, just like Webby's song says.

Other interesting notes about the picture are that the hair of the woman is red (could still be Webby, maybe her hair changed color, or Miss. Holloway, more on her later), and it's possible the woman is wearing the baseball cap Hannah wore in Black Friday (or it could be a fold of the guy's robe, it's hard to see in the photo).

But back to my main point: why would the other LIB be stabbing Webby in the back, or as the song says "have her in the spell they cast?"

Well, I see two reasons. One is more visual, the other much darker.

The first is that the LIB sing about "dancing around a pentagram". In the black book picture, Webby, or whoever the woman in white is, seems to be placed in the middle of the pentagram.

So that's the visual reason: Webby is in the middle of the "Spells they cast" because that's physically where she's located.

Now for the darker reason, one some of you have probably already guessed, because I referred the Summoning in NPMD. You know, the part where Wiggly demands they kids give up the thing they love most for power?

Well. Remember the "Why do you haunt me like a ghost? You’re supposed to love me the most." line from the web I spin for you?

It's possible that if Webby was at one point what the LIB loved most, they could have sacrificed her to gain some sort of power.

It could also explain why Wiggly hates her so much. Maybe he also hates himself. Or hates Webby for making him feel like he had to do that. Or at least try to do that, still unclear if he attempted this, or what succeeding would even mean since Webby and the LIB seem to be immortal.

Now the evidence against this theory seems to be the fact that if Wiggly was really the one to sacrifice (or attempt to sacrifice) Webby (for the sake of, apparently, summoning witches for unknown reasons), why would he act like he's the one who needs revenge and be so angry at Webby when he betrayed her? Well, it's possible that he believes she betrayed him first, or that betraying her corrupted the LIB, similar to what happened to Grace in NPMD (but more on that in another post).

Now for the second option: that Webby used to be evil. The evidence for this is fairly straightforward, which is probably why it's the most popular poll option:

Wiggly wants revenge and hates Webby, her betraying her brothers and turning good lines up with this

The LIB have never acted benevolently or shown any genuine concern for others, whereas Webby has done semi-morally questionable things (she kills the witch Willabella Muckwab in nightmare time because she tried to hurt Hannah, but Willabella Muckwab was a bad guy who'd been dead for centuries so make of that what you will)

Webby sings about the LIB teaching her, but her becoming disillusioned and turning against them, her developing a love for humanity also lines up with this

It's still possible that the LIB attempted to sacrifice Webby as discussed above, her turning good was possibly the catalyst for this course of action

The main source of evidence against this theory is we don't know what would have caused Webby to turn good. She seems to care about children (more on that later) and not like what her brothers do with the witches they create (and then there's the mess of how Miss. Holloway fits into all this), but beyond that, it's unclear, but still one of the most plausible theories in my opinion and the fandom seems to agree with me on this one.

The next two poll options: Webby and the LIB were always on their respective sides of the Black and White, but used to be closer, or they selected opposite sides of the Black and White and that drove them apart.

Both of these seem to line up with the evidence presented thus far. The first option would explain why Wiggly and Webby feel betrayed by each other without having to change much about their characters. The second option makes sense in that it explains their conflict.

The main way these two options differ is whether Webby and the LIB were "always this way" or whether they ever had a choice. Both seem compelling, especially when you consider Wiggly's (via Wilbur) whole humanity hating Black Friday speech and Webby's care for Hannah and complicated feelings towards her brothers. If the siblings were always like this, is their room for them to change? If they chose the sides they did, why did they do so and can they change back?

The last two poll options (not counting the "other"): The sides of the Black and White Webby and her brothers are one were chosen for them or that this is somehow their parent's fault.

I put these two together because the issues with the "sides of the Black and White" being chosen for them option is: who is doing the choosing? The mostly likely possibility for this seems to be their parent (maybe parents?)

The LIB call themselves the "spawn of the Black and White", so for now let's call their parents "the Black and White". They seem to have parents, at least according to the Starkid wikipages, which state that "The Lords in Black were spawned from the same deed of evil. Their father was a giant chaos entity," and the credit of this comes from an interview with the characters' creator. I personally don't know how to verify this, so let's say it's true. What was this "deed of evil?" How is Webby their sister, was she spawn from this too? Will we ever meet their parents?

Overall, I'd say these options are possible, but given that we don't know much about their parents or the nature of the Black and White, it's hard to draw a solid conclusion.

Finally, some other unknowns about Webby and her brothers that I find interesting:

The "Starry Children" Stuff and Webby and the LIB's relationship with Children:

The LIB's followers call themselves the Church of the Starry Children, and as I pointed out before, the symbol of the LIB seems to be a star, with the LIB in the triangles and Webby in the middle, at least according to the illustrations. What's unclear is who the starry children are. Is this the name of the followers of the LIB OR is it Webby and the LIB themselves? The show might have already said this at some point and I missed it, but Webby and her brother often act very childish and playful (although often in ominous ways). This plus the fact that they apparently have parents could point to them being literal children.

Wiggly and Webby seem to have opposite relationships with children. Wiggly's Black Friday spell doesn't work on kids. Willabella Muckwab is said to have written the black book with the blood of innocents kids (again, based on the wiki page). Webby on the other hand seems to have a closer relationship with children (most clearly shown in her relationship with Hannah). You can argue that Wiggly does interact with children in NPMD, but they're technically teenagers, and as Grace says repeatedly throughout the show "they're only 18."

The Relationship Webby and the LIB have with Witches:

"The Web I Spin for You" implies Webby's brothers keep summoning witches that try to hurt her and "The Witch in the Web" implies that Webby keeps "spinning webs" to capture and stop these witches from hurting others. This lines up with everything we know about Willabella and most of the other witches and followers of the LIB.

Where this pattern seems to break is Wilbur Cross and Miss. Holloway. How is Miss. Holloway able to use the black book without being in debt to the LIB? Does she serve Webby like Wilbur serves Wiggly? Miss. Holloway also seems to care about children, again contrasting to the way Wilbur tries to hurt them. Does that mean anything? Why isn't Wilbur caught in Webby's trap like the others, and why does he keep coming back? Why do the LIB need Wilbur anyway? Why were Miss. Holloway and Wilbur chosen for these roles? Is it because Miss. Holloway encountered the White of the Black and White similar to how Wilbur encountered the Black? Or is it because the LIB and Webby just really liked their southern accents and were going for the "southern small town preacher" vibe?

I hope you like this rant. Thank you Starkid fandom!

[accio-victuuri]

March CPNs

this month’s banner theme is tennis boyfriends! lol. when i saw it, i knew it would fit, cause this month was also when WYB went for the lacoste show and most interviews was him talking about tennis. and who is the other actor who mentioned this sport too? another coincidence! why is it always them? 😂😂😂 from new au pairings, coins, similarities and kadian drama— this month delivered the goods to us!

time to review and look back at the delicious candies we ate this month:

• the bone necklace potentially getting replaced because of some anti rumors and what it means.

• circle elements in xzs vlog is a nod to cpf comments that have yellow circles

• lacoste and bjyx

• yibo shows cpfs some love at chanel pfw

• here are some other pfw minor clownery. 🌸

a nice detail seen in his clothes/jacket are red and green flowers. you all know how we feel about red and green in this fandom. yeah, this must be a stylist’s choice blah blah blah but that just how cpns work. and it’s so cute too!

descendants of the sun parallel! please! you all know i’m weak for this shit. chenwei will always reign supreme, but what if chen yu decides to go full on army or whatever.

i also found it funny how fans are noticing the difference with their clothes. xz was revealing in his own way & wyb was all covered up. of course these are two different brands so the clothes and everything will not be the same. but that’s actually what’s good about them, how different they are. and yet— they complement each other really well and have the same values in life. they try and learn what the other person’s interest is so they can have a better relationship. 🤍

posing with their female seatmates 🤣🤣🤣

• a similarity we noticed too was that wyb was on his phone before the lacoste show, and it reminded us of how xz was doing the same at gucci mfw. i think we went 👀 because for xz, we were already clowning that he was messaging wyb or reading message from him then something similar happens to wyb. it could be a completely different thing and who can blame them for checking their phone while on “downtime” — but let us be with our fake story from these two incidents 😌😌😌

• on 3/5 chang feng po lang released a new character poster for wyb’s character wei ruolai. because of it, a new AU pairing was born. wei ruolai x patient #5. i swear. their characters look good together! some also pair wei ruolai up with xiao sa or chunsheng 😂😂😂

i have to say younger chunsheng before he went to military and ruolai match so well together!

• same answers on fashion week interviews: comfortable dressing & the color black

• another perspective on the coin that appeared in zz’s vlog - relation to wei ruolai and war of faith trailer this is further “proven” when wei ruolai’s character posted was revealed and he was tossing a coin. look, i know it’s highly unlikely that the whole concept was a way to tease us with WYB’s drama. but it’s a nice double meaning and more! 🪙🪙🪙

• since there is a new character out for one of them, another new AU pairing was born! wei ruolai x xiao chunsheng 🤍🤍🤍

• the two of them being featured at vogue website as stand outs during their respective fashion week appearances. it’s not really cpn but more on them being the power couple 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼 and i’m just so proud of them. years later, they still shine so bright and it has no signs of even fading.

even with weibo engagement, both of them were on top during their respective events. no one could even come close. and why, it’s so hard for them to work together, or why no one would allow that to happen cause it will be game over. lol.

• our dearest tennis couple 🎾 ; this has become more prevalent in the fandom because of wyb’s lacoste ad!

• the inception possibility - tbh i’m just desperate to relate this movie to them and a cpn 😂😂😂

• the collab between cotti and dove - this is most likely a business movie that has no input from xz and wyb. these are big brands that take care of their company but what’s sus is how cotti posted the announcement of this collab at 10:05. you would think dove would be the one to do that since xz is their endorser. or they could use 10, 10:10 or 10:30 posting time which are equally usual time slots for brand announcements. but no. it feels intentional on their side to use that association. of course it led to some drama but we still made some lemonade out of it by going through some old endorsement CPN examples that was funnily enough, dug out by solo fans who are clowns themselves.

• some are clowning (slightly) over WYB’s alleged kadian a day after the cotti drama when he FW the post for olympics because it read a (14:38) lifetime zhanbo. but you all know how picky i am with kadians. the vcr was shared 14:30 so i guess he only had a narrow window to share, not sure if intentional or not. for me, personally, not everything is kadian. considering the topic too, this is a national/international event. i don’t think it should be used for cpn. i’d like to think WYB is more professional than we are. but who knows 🤷🏻‍♀️

• this bts video from war of faith! it shows wyb being active — moving around and doing some exercises. reminds us so much of how xz was like during SBMS bts that was released. they are so similar!

• GG’s weibo post the night before WoF premiere

• adding this to the list of brands they both use for their wardrobe: NANS. as usual disclaimer, these are clothes used in brand shoots and may have been chosen by hired stylist of the brand or their own. who knows. i just like archiving stuff like this, especially for lesser known brands that seem to only be worn by them. some examples below:

lesser known because XZ/WYB are so popular so you would expect them to wear name brands. if not, a company that the general public likes. on weibo, the brand only has 132k followers which is pretty low and they don’t repost photos of celebrities who used their clothes— nothing about WYB or XZ or anyone else.

• 3/21, premiere date of WoF, WYB shares a new trailer for the drama. The weibo account of WoF posted @ 9:58 and WYB on 10:06. So the CPN is, did he miss? was this supposed to be 10:05? considering what XZ did the day before with his post. Personally, i’m relieved that he didn’t do it 10:05 to prevent drama with his so/os because this time is crucial. we can’t afford these sensitive ass fans turning away from him and not supporting his work. he is too smart for that, he knows all too well how these things go.

I like this interpretation from cpfs that he didn’t miss, it’s yibo, if he wants to do it 10:05 he will. but he has limits right now, those who know (us cpfs) will get the meaning and understand him. and we do. we always do 💛

•xz molsion live show clues: lego/puzzles, camping and chasing dramas

• xiao zhan calling wyb lai lai ( fake rumor )

• 3/25 XZS post where the 380 yuan fan makes an appearance and the 8th picture significance

• 3/26 fake rumor 🗣️🗣️🗣️

wls wants xls to call him “gege”, xls didn’t, so wls tickled him, xls had no choice so he called wls “gege” softly, after he said it he blushed so hard, and wls didn’t allow us to look 👀.fake rumor don’t believe it

• 3/27 IQIYI livestream/ watch-a-long event with WYB and him smiling when the host said side by side in the snowy mountain part one . part two 💛💛💛

• 3/28 we got to see a VCR of ZZ and his style looks similar to Bobo’s

• new lounge wear brand cp! bananain x miiow 😍😍

• a cute coincidence that in episode 21 of WoF it is revealed that in his hometown, Wei Ruolai has a nickname: “gou gu zai” = Definition: Jiangxi dialect. Refers to a child who has just entered his youth. Young people, they are not deeply involved in the world, but they are full of energy. like a puppy, lively and noisy.

it is exactly like gouzaizai but that one is from Chongqing. i know this is a script and fiction, but the director himself said that when WYB went in as Ruolai, he was inspired by WYB’s personality irl. It also means we were all right, looking at Lai Lai as a puppy during the show.

it’s just so nice to know that GG already found out what WYB’s personality was like early on. that he is a puppy — and feeds more truth to the cpn that GG was the one who gave the 🦴 necklace. a bone for a puppy.

• XZ’s xinxiangyin live “clue” on what activities they do spending time outdoors

-END.

P.S: and that’s the 1st quarter of the year done! just like that! actually, a lot of things happened in the fandom and i’m happy that both the boys continue to be active and we always have content. i also wanna take this time to thank everyone who supports both of them + cpfs who interact with me & my posts i appreciate you! <3 i hope the community here continues to grow and we all have this safe space to be cpfs 🤍🤍🤍

<<< previous month

[chefkids]

what do you think is going to happen to ebraheim in s3 :(

Grief and loss is a big part of the series with the loss of Mikey obviously, Sydney's mom, and now Marcus' mom, but we don't talk enough about Ebra who objectively has had it worst and seen horrific things. Everyone loves to talk about how Carmy is so traumatized, but Ebra literally lived through a Civil War.

He is a refugee from Somalia, we've seen him share little bits of information about his past, like his family meal suqaar, or when they were talking about forming a brigade he mentioned his time being in a brigade during the Somali Civil War. In Review when he's helping Richie after he got stabbed, he tells him the story of Black Hawk down battle of Mogadishu.

He definitely has some level of PTSD, he didn't want to wear a uniform at culinary school, and Tina had to reassure him that it "was not that kind of uniform" and then when she said there were a lot of Sydney's in culinary school he told her "Don't look them in the eyes." But honestly seems to handle things pretty well and is generally unphased by the chaos of the kitchen. Carmy clearly also has some PTSD from his traumatic upbringing that makes him panic, and I think they both find comfort in the kitchen but in different ways. Ebra enjoys the chaos and loudness while Carmy is about the perfectionism and order.

He was also arguably one of the nicer people to Sydney from the start and respected her quickly, I think because she reminded him of Tina in a way with how assertive she is but still looks out for people. He's also a feminist icon. He also knew they needed help and Carmy wasn't cutting it. He quickly saw the good in her by how she was giving confidence to Marcus. He was the one reading the review and being excited for Sydney and for The Beef getting positive recognition. He was happy to see it change for the better because he cares a lot about The Beef.

But seeing turn into something completely different and riskier with The Bear is scary for him and he didn't really feel like he was changing with the place and felt like he was getting left behind. He was very close with Mikey and worked there for decades, so hopefully we see them together in Mikey's flashbacks. He was also very worried about Carmy messing up the place and the system. I'm sure we'll get more Tina Ebra shenanigans, I think Ebra is a bit of enigma who is always going to be throwing in random bits of his dark lore. He's going to be in charge of the sandwich window in the back when it opens. He was the only one still wearing The Beef uniform, he's an embodiment of the past. But it's not just The Beef that is changing, the entire neighborhood is. I think the window in the back and the main kitchen are going to kind of battle it out. The Beef already has an established clientele and regulars, which are quite a different demographic than the people who are likely to dine at The Bear and it's going to be interesting to see how they all fit in together in Season 3.

[professoruber]

Mia "Maps" Mizoguchi Reading List

Last Updated: 24/4/2024

A list I have decided to make for the purpose of compiling the various appearances so far of Maps Mizoguchi; since she is a character I like whom has also been receiving some focus as of late. I will also provide some brief description/thoughts for each one.

Gotham Academy (2014-2016) - All Issues

Maps of course first made her original appearance in the first run of Gotham Academy.

Gotham Academy: Endgame (2015) - #1

A one-shot comic which was one of several tie-ins made for the Endgame event which was going on at the time. Basically just shows what Maps and the GA crew were up to while Gotham was being overrun by Joker zombies.

Gotham Academy: Second Semester (2016-2017) - All Issues

The continuation of the Gotham Academy storyline, with of course has Maps in a major role.

Lumberjanes/Gotham Academy (2016-2017)

A crossover between Gotham Academy and the Lumberjanes, which I'm pretty sure is non-canon but still probably worth checking out. I have not read it, nor the Lumberjanes comics yet, although I do intend to do both as some point (due in part to ND Stevenson being one of the authors of Lumberjanes, and me really liking the She-Ra reboot and Nimona)

Poison Ivy: Cycle of Life and Death (2016) - #1

Maps, alongside other Gotham Academy students (including Olive, Kyle, Colton and Pom) have a brief cameo in this first issue of this run. Maps and Olive each get one line each.

Batgirl (2011—2016) - #51, #52, & Annual 4

Maps (along with Olive) also showed up briefly during the Batgirl of Burnside run. My assumption is this is due to them sharing an artist and being published concurrently. I do know what Burnside!Babs isn't everyone's cup of tea so keep that in mind, I suppose.

My Video Game Ate my Homework (2020) - #1

Maps and Olive show up behind the main characters in the first page as a cameo... and that's about it. The comic seems fun though, for the record. Mostly including this because I'm just going through the list of Maps' appearances on the DC wiki.

Batman: Black and White (2021) - #4

One of the stories in this issue has Maps appear as Robin. Non-canon but still a very neat and fun appearance by her.

Batman (2016-) - #119, #120, #121

Probably Maps' first major appearance since the end of the Gotham Academy: Second Semester. These give some additional exploration of her home life and relationship with her parents. Has her dressing up as Robin to investigation the disappearance of another student.

Batgirls (2022-2023) - #11

Maps shows up here and has an adventure with Cass. This also means that Maps knows Babs, Cass and Steph. Which is neat. I do know that the portrayal of the Batgirls in Batgirls isn't everyone's cup of tea (namely portraying them as younger / less mature than they have been in the past) so that that's worth keeping in mind. Interestly, Maps' big brother Kyle has a larger role; appearing in #10, #11, #17, #18, #19 and the Annual as a possible love interest for Steph.

DC's Saved by the Belle Reve (2022) - #1 

A one-shot with several stories, including one which returns to the Gotham Academy crew and gives some information on what's happened since the end of Gotham Academy: Second Semester, along with a fun adventure.

Gotham Academy: Maps of Mystery (2023) - #1

A one-shot which acts a compilation of Batman (2016-) - #119, #120, #121, as well as Maps appearances in Batman: Black and White, and DC's Saved by the Belle Reve.

Birds of Prey (2023-) - All Issues

The newest Birds of Prey run has a surprise appearance by Maps. Which I think is a neat sign of her receiving some increased focus as of late. To get into some mild-ish spoilers... the Maps who appears is a Maps from the future. I have made a few posts/reviews of this run, which you can find on this blog, and I guess personally I am not the biggest fan of her portrayal in this comic. Still is neat to see her receive more focus. Do kinda also think it could've been neat if Present!Maps had shown up instead of Future!Maps.

Batman: The Brave and the Bold (2023-) - #10, #11, #12

Gotham Academy returns! As does Present!Maps. A fun ongoing story of Maps getting to team up with Batman once more.

[etherrreal]

“creep(er) into my heart”

Pairing: kenma x gn!reader Genre: fluff, friends to lovers Summary: two gamers walk into a fancy restaurant and it goes as well as you’d think. WC: 4,220 Warnings: N/A A/N: This is part 2 of “would you be mine(craft)?” with an even cornier title. You can probably read this without reading the first, but maybe read it for context? (also, i joke that applebee’s sucks but their “bourbon street chicken and shrimp” lives rent free in my head everyday) -Luna

Dates are meant to be anxiety-inducing, whether it’s a stomach full of butterflies or ruthless tornadoes.

So, it’s an odd feeling to be so calm and collected during the days leading up to a big date, especially one with Kenma. You assume it’s because the stakes are so low, knowing that if the spark isn’t there, you’ll still see him on Minecraft, probably that same night, to help with his iron golem farming idea like nothing ever happened. 

What’s even weirder is that both of you have continued to not discuss the date at all since he asked you the weekend before. You don’t know if it’s because it’ll be awkward to break the ice of the discussion or if he’s procrastinating figuring out the plans for that night, but you both continue to play games and watch anime together during the week without even grazing the topic.

If it wasn't for the Google Calendar invite reminding you 48 hours before Saturday that your date was in fact coming up, you would still believe that him asking you out was something you happened to imagine during your post-date funk.

Thankfully, come Thursday evening, not long after you get the notification, he sends you a text letting you know that he’ll be taking you to a restaurant in the city. It’s one you’ve passed several times before, which is how you know, without having to check their Instagram tags, that it’s a semi-formal, if not fully formal, dress code and dining experience. It’s an abnormal choice for Kenma to willingly select a place where he’d have to wear anything that buttons, let alone a full suit, so you have to imagine that the place must have glowing reviews for him to settle on it.

Now all you have to do is find a whole entire formal outfit with only two days’ notice and minimal time after work to shop. No biggie.

But you manage to do it in time—although barely since you had to rally together the group chat to help—and by the time Saturday comes, you’re actually feeling a bit of nerves start to pool in your stomach as you’re getting ready for the night. Although it all dissipates when you get a series of texts from Kenma, minutes apart, realizing that he may be experiencing the same kind of jitters that you’re feeling. 

‘I dont know how to tie a fucking tie, time to cancel the date’ ‘This is harder than finishing Dark Souls’ ‘I got it, but Kuroo made fun of me and is a terrible teacher and now my feelings are hurt’

You zoom through getting ready, and with about 30-ish minutes until your 7PM reservation, the 25-minute Uber ride leaves you with just enough time to be early. And you’re given quite the shock when you step out of the car and you already see Kenma in front of the restaurant, head hung low as he scrolls through his phone. As you get closer, you notice he cleans up nicely in his smart black suit with his hair pulled back into a bun except for a few face-framing pieces. You make sure to call his name to get his attention, his head snapping up when he hears your voice.

“Wooow, look at you, Mr. Snazzy,” you comment, reaching up to straighten his tie. “I’ve never seen you so gussied up before. Must be quite the date for you to dust off your one and only suit.”

“I have a second suit,” he says defensively. “It’s gray because Kuroo says that’s a better color to wear for the daytime.”

“When did Kuroo become your fashion stylist?”

“When my publicist politely said that I looked like a scrub in all my other clothes during meetings.”

“...She never said anything about your hair, though?”

Kenma glares at you, definitely offended by the implication that his excessively grown out roots are unprofessional, to which you offer a small smile, hoping that he knows you meant it with love. 

“Let’s just go inside before I get insulted again tonight.” 

He pulls the door open for you—like the gentleman that he pretends to be—and steps up to greet the host before you can say anything.

“Hello, I have a reservation for 7PM. Kozume.”

Normally, you’d joke about him finally being able to speak to a server by himself, seeing as he still has to hype himself up sometimes before asking for extra ketchup when you’re eating out. You remember there being a time when he ordered marinara sauce with his cheesy bread from Domino’s and when it wasn’t included, he was fully prepared to leave and eat his bread dry to avoid talking to anyone. You ended up having to take the receipt up to the cashier and fixing the mistake so you didn’t have to see him somberly eating his sauceless bread.

The jokes slip your mind, however, as you take in the decor of the place. A few chandeliers hang from the high ceiling, sparkling under the low light from the sconces on the wall. Each table is decorated with a crisp white tablecloth and set with dark green trimmed plates, long-stem wine glasses, and folded cloth napkins around a simple floral centerpiece.

You’re observing the attire of the guests, feeling a bit underdressed, but also overdressed considering how effortless and chic most of the outfits are. The meals they’re eating look especially small, probably only a few bites on the giant plates. It’s a place definitely out of your comfort zone, one that you’d think would be nice to attend, but probably never would because it’s so bougie and you’d feel out of place.

Kenma’s hand on your lower back startles you out of your thoughts, and suddenly, you’re being guided toward the middle of the restaurant, a server in front of you to lead the way.

The server pulls out your chairs, providing menus and telling you that he’ll be back when you’re ready to order. Polite smiles and thanks are given as you settle in, draping your coats over the backs of your chairs and picking up the menus.

If you thought you felt out of place when you walked in, you’re definitely feeling it now. You scan the menu, trying not to look too stressed when you see the prices and can’t recognize or even read the foreign names of certain dishes, but from what you can read, nothing is sparking joy. You’re trying to get a read on Kenma, glancing up to see if he’s also having trouble picking something from the menu or if he’s confident about what to order, but his stoic face gives nothing away.

In an attempt to put out some feelers, you clear your throat before saying, “I’m not really sure what to pick. How about you? See anything you like?”

“I’m still looking, but nothing so far,” he responds, trailing off at the end as he watches a server bring some morsels of food plated on a bowl of rocks to the table next to you. It’s only then that can catch his eye and in them, you’re seeing the same feeling of bewilderment and unease from being in this setting. But it’s gone in a second, back to his normal flat expression.

But you definitely saw it, so now that you know the feeling’s mutual, you feel less bad about feeling it yourself. You let a few moments pass, with the menu held in front of your face, high enough that only your eyes peek out from over the top before you let out a suggestion.

“....You know we passed by a Domino’s on the way here, and now all I can think about are their wings.”

Kenma nearly slams the menu onto the table, eyes wide and ravenous for some food. “I want some of their cheesy bread so bad.”

“Wanna make a run for it?” You’re trying to be low-key when looking around for anyone that could be watching, gently setting the menu down and grabbing the collar of your coat, looking back to Kenma for confirmation. He’s already shoved one arm into the sleeve of his blazer and is scooting back his chair to stand, making sure to give you a nod so you know that it’s go time.

You’re not as graceful as Kenma is in your escape, nearly spilling someone’s drink while putting on your coat on the way out. You pick up your pace, ignoring Kenma’s glance and snickers. He reaches the door first, holding it open for you while you finally get your coat on. There’s a beat while you stand there before you both burst into giggles, nearly keeling over with laughter and tears in your eyes.

Finally, standing up straight after a few minutes, you gesture behind you. “Ready to go get a gourmet meal?” 

With an excited nod from Kenma, you walk side by side down the streets. You use the time to clown him for not knowing how to tie a tie, even suggesting that you’ll gift him a clip-on for future uses so he doesn’t hurt his little gamer hands trying to tie a knot. 

To which he responds with, “And I’ll light your Minecraft house on fire using my little gamer hands if you don’t shut up.”

Suddenly, you’re silent.

The Domino’s is a bit farther than it seemed while in the car, but eventually, you see the glowing blue and red symbol high up on the square building, rushing ahead to rip open the door so you can quickly usher Kenma inside and order as soon as possible.

Too much money later, you’re skipping out of Domino’s, wings and cheesy bread secured along with other impromptu boxes of goodies to take home. You’re both waiting at the corner while you pull open the Google Maps app to figure out the best place to catch a cab when you notice a spot nearby that piques your interest. 

“Did you know there’s an arcade around the corner?!” you nearly scream, shoving your phone in his face to show him Google Maps. 

“No, I didn’t know that,” he says, moving your phone at least a few inches away from his face. “Want to go there?”

“Won’t our food get cold though?”

“That’s what microwaves are for. Duh,” he jokes, grabbing your hand to guide you down the block to the illuminated storefront. You run in like children, making a beeline to the token machine. You begin reaching for your wallet when Kenma lets go of your hand, shoving your wallet away and aggressively pulling out money from his own.

You stare down at your palm in the meantime, feeling little tingles spread throughout it, flexing your fingers and no doubt looking like a weirdo.

Kenma has done his fair share of dragging you away from places, usually when you're glued to the glass window of a store that has anime knick-knacks you want but have absolutely no damn space for, but usually he just grabs your elbow or wrist. You could be overthinking it, but he must've grabbed your hand on purpose. Or you're just that desperate for physical affection. 

He shoves a handful of tokens into your open palm, putting his own into his pockets. The arcade suddenly feels so overwhelming, with lights and noises all around you. Should you try the crane games first? Or maybe some skee-ball? You could probably dominate him in that…

“Want to start with some air hockey?” Kenma suggests, pointing over to a free table in the corner. 

Yes. Air hockey. An easy win start. “Oh hell yeah, let’s do that.”

You shouldn’t have been so confident. It’s not turning out in your favor, not in the slightest, and you should’ve guessed that, going up against a guy who was the brain of his volleyball team. In your defense, you did win the first game, rubbing it in Kenma’s face and doing a dance like a sore winner. Then he absolutely demolished you for the next three rounds and had the gall to be humble about it like he didn’t just embarrass you in front of the many elementary school kids around you.

You would’ve kept going, being stubborn as hell and telling Kenma, “Best 5 out of 6?” until you got into double digits. But suddenly he has to “go use the bathroom,” which sounds like an excuse to you.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t go too far,” he warns you.

And, to be fair, you don’t go too far. You only walk about twenty feet away to the anime crane game that’s hiding behind a row of other crane games that would be blocking Kenma’s view to you if he comes back the same way he left. He has a phone that he could use to text you if he really can’t find you. 

It’ll be fiiiine, you think as you slide in a token and get ready to win the anime figure. 

The time passes quickly, not that you notice it. All you know is that you’ve gone through maybe half of your tokens while trying to get the figure to fall between the two bars, only asking the staff to help you reposition once because you managed to mess it up that bad. 

It’s funny to think that you were more worried about sticking out like a sore thumb at the fancy restaurant than you are now at the arcade, surrounded by people of all ages in sneakers and jeans while you stand there at the claw machine in dress clothes with your nose nearly against the glass. Maybe they’ll think you’re an important business person coming by to decompress after a very long, busy day at work. 

Then you squawk when you finally score the prize after only several more dollars worth of coins, and the facade promptly sails out the window.

It’s only after you have the box in your arms that you decide to check the time, realizing you’ve spent at least ten minutes straight playing. What’s weirder is that Kenma still hasn’t returned yet, and you have no messages or missed calls from him asking where you’re at, which means he's either still in the bathroom–and if that’s the case, you’re deeply worried for his bowels–or he got distracted on his way back from it. 

You’re almost at the bathrooms when you see Kenma walking towards you from the corner of your eye, definitely not coming from the bathroom as you’d expect. 

“Where were you? I thought you said you had to go to the bathroom.” You notice he’s holding an overstuffed plastic bag. “What did you get? When the hell did you even have time? Or are you just that lucky?”

“Oh. This is, uh..” Suddenly, he’s sheepish, opening the plastic bag where you can see something fuzzy and pink in it. “I didn’t actually need to go to the bathroom. I saw a Kirby plush in a crane machine when we walked in and knew I had to get it for you.” 

Before you could even say anything, he’s pulling out the plush and you notice it’s not just a regular Kirby, but one with a chef hat and pan. You make grabby hands at it until he hands it over, trying to hold it just with one hand and squishing it against your chest and face. 

“I love him so much! Thank you, Kenma.” 

Like a lot of things tonight, it’s different from your normal friendly interactions. Instead of your usual hugs where you go in at a diagonal or the lazier times when it’s just a side hug, your arms are now wrapped around his neck with his around your waist. It feels weird. A good weird. Like you’re feeling the subtle change from friendship to something a little more. It’s hard not to get your hopes up because although you’ve told yourself that you’ll be good with being ‘just friends,’ throughout the night, you find yourself quite hopeful for the chance to explore something romantic with Kenma. 

You part slowly, him shoving Kirby back into the bag and insisting on holding it for you after you reach for it, which you suppose you could allow since he’s been such a gentleman tonight. 

“Great minds think alike because I got you a gift, too,” you announce, handing over the box you worked so hard for. “I don’t remember her name, but I know you have a few that look like her in your room, so what’s one more to add to your waifu collection.”

“Thanks for the gift, and also, for saying that so loud. I’m sure the whole arcade liked hearing about how much of a weeb I am.” He gives you a smile, somehow managing to stuff the box into the already full bag. “Want to spend the rest of our tokens then head to mine? I only have a few more.”

You pull your sad six out of your pocket. “Yeah, me too. That crane game wasn’t kind to me.”

You have a blast with the remaining tokens, staying away from crane games and sticking more to the classics. You learn that Kenma’s strategic thinking in volleyball does not translate over to basketball when you watch him miss every single basket of the game except for his last one in which he threw the ball against the back wall in frustration and landed right in the net.

Even when ordering the Uber minutes later, he still has a frown etched on his face from losing, and as much as you want to rub it in his face that now he’s feeling like you were after air hockey, you leave him to sit in his feelings. 

It’s a silent ride, at least on the outside. Internally, you’re an anxious, overthinking mess with your inner thoughts going a mile a minute. You spend the whole ride back to his place wondering if it’d be too forward of you to hold his hand that’s sitting on the seat between you two. It’s not like he didn’t hold your hand earlier tonight, even if it was only to drag you toward the arcade. Once you finally convince yourself that it’d be okay to try, the ride is over and his hand slips away to open the car door and you sigh as you lose your chance to be brave. 

When you’re home, Kenma’s tie and shirt undone and your dress shoes thrown haphazardly by the door, you finally get to discuss your thoughts on the restaurant. About how stuffy it felt in your formal clothes and how ridiculous the plating looked for the meals because you didn’t know what they’d even be able to taste with a portion size that small. Kenma even thanks you for breaking the ice by bringing up Domino’s because if you never did it “you’d still be in that restaurant having your 12th course of the meal.”

You swallow your bite and take a quick sip of your drink. “Why did you even choose that restaurant in the first place? Doesn’t feel like a place you’d be at.”

Kenma shrugs, brushing off the crumbs from his hands. “I don’t know… I guess I didn’t want our first date to be just like any other night we’d had. I wanted it to stand out from the rest so you can know that I’m serious about you.”

Your heart just about bursts hearing his gentle voice say that. “That’s… So sweet. I don’t know what to say to that besides thank you. Never knew you could be so charming.”

“Don’t expect it too often,” he jokes, to which you respond with an elbow to his ribs. “I know today didn’t go as expected, so maybe we can try again with a different restaurant.” 

“Maybe—and this is me just spitballing here—we should work our way up to the formal dress restaurants by starting with something simple like… Applebee’s.”

“I feel like Applebee’s is somehow a worse starting point than a place like McDonald’s.”

“Fiiiine. Since you have so much to say, then you pick where we’re eating for our next date. Just make sure I can get away with wearing sneakers and jeans, is all I’m saying.”

“Who said we were actually going on a second date? I don’t know if I want to date someone who eats wings like a toddler.” He reaches over with a napkin to wipe the corners of your mouth which you begrudgingly allow.

“Well, I don’t know if I want to date someone who waits until 48 fucking hours before the date to tell me that I have to put together a whole formal outfit for a restaurant.” Kenma looks away abruptly, but not before you see his shameless smirk. “Why the hell did you even take so long?” 

“I had to use some connections to get a reservation there within the week, and they didn’t get back to me until Thursday, so you knew when I knew!” 

“Hm… okay. I’ll let that one slide then. For now.” 

“So, I can get a second date?” 

“If you insist.”

Kenma puts what’s left of your food in his fridge with the promise of leftovers tomorrow. You help him tidy up a bit, taking your sweet time because it’s finally dawned on you that the date will be ending soon. You’re hit with a wave of disappointment, realizing just how much you enjoyed his company all day. And maybe it’s silly, but you don’t want it to end just yet.

When you’ve thrown away the last napkin, you slide in next to him in the kitchen, bumping shoulders with him before hooking your arm with his. “Wanna finish watching that anime you showed me? The one with the long title?”

He lets out an amused chuckle. “Glad you enjoyed it so much that you remember the name, but sure.”

He lets you guide him to the couch by his arm, plopping yourselves down on it while he grabs his remote to pick the show from his ‘continue watching’ section.

Halfway through the episode, you scooch even closer to Kenma so you can lean on him, your head gently resting on his shoulder to test the waters. He lifts his arm up to grasp you tighter, fingers trailing up and down your upper arm without looking away from the screen. You peer up at him to see a little smile on his face—hoping it’s because of your current position and not because of the atrocities happening on the screen. You’re rarely this close to Kenma. The closest you get to him on the daily is him leaning over you to fix some computer issues or you peering over his shoulder to watch him play on his Switch. 

You’ve never paid attention to his warm amber scent mixed with something floral, probably from his conditioner he told you he overpaid for because he thought it was on sale. How plush his hoodie is and how you’re definitely going to be “borrowing” it as a partner tax in the future. Or how the ends of his hair that’s tickling your face are really soft, no doubt because of that expensive conditioner, and you fight the urge to play with a few pieces. You could get used to being with him if this is what you’d be getting every day.

You manage to last another episode and a half before his soft touch lulls you to sleep, a smile mirroring his on your face.

You have a funny dream that night; you and Kenma are at an Applebee’s, both dressed in your grubbiest hoodies and sweats, while the subpar food sits untouched in front of you. He’s holding one of your hands on the table, stroking his thumb back and forth on the back of yours, the other hand keeping his head propped. You’re telling a story, laughing and waving your free hand around as you delve deep into it. To everybody else, you’re sure Kenma looks bored out of his mind, probably waiting for you to stop talking or at least get to the good part. But you know him better than that.

You can see the affection in his eyes as he doesn’t break eye contact with you, humming in acknowledgment wherever necessary so you know he’s actually listening. He’s squeezing your hand every now and again just because he can. His phone is face down on the far end of the table, most likely on ‘Do Not Disturb’ because you don’t hear a single vibration against the table. 

You’ve got his complete and undivided attention until he decides to get off his seat to lean over the table. You quiet down immediately, unsure of what the hell he’s going to do until he tilts his head and gently kisses you on your lips, lasting only a second before promptly sitting down and telling you to continue your story as if nothing happened. 

Non-dream Kenma would never do something so bold in public. At least, you don’t think so. 

But, goddammit, even if it means writing a script and playing director, you’re going to try your fucking hardest to make sure it happens exactly like your dream during your second date.

Written by: Luna

we’ve got a taglist if you’re interested 👀

[luxurysystems]

Irwin before his life of crime in the Vice City AU

"The Destroyer"

[Money Inc. x Vice City Au- 1391 words]

Synopsis: Irwin's life was planned out: work at the same accounting firm in upstate NY for most of his adult life, retire in his mid-60s , enjoy his pension, die quietly and hope to be in St. Peter's book of names when he steps into the afterlife. By joining Mr.B's firm right out of college, he was hoping to get a leg up on the first part of his plan. Little did Irwin know at the time that his boss had other plans for the youngster...

[Little Havana, Vice City, 9 a.m.- Outside of the Printworks factory]

"Shoot him, c'mon kid! We haven't got all day!"

Sitting in Ted's off-white Admiral, Irwin had a moment to take a breather. Listening to Ted chat his mouth off so early in the morning was the catalyst needed to drum up a headache right between Irwin's eyes.

"God, I need to smoke..."

He was still technically working— Ted just happened to step inside to talk with the owner, Earnest Kelly, to iron out some details. You could call "stay inside the car so that it doesn't get jacked" Irwin's portion of the job. Starting to get bored with the talk radio topic that was on, Irwin reached towards the backseat to retrieve his briefcase; there must be something in there that he could review to keep his mind occupied.

Opening up revealed his usual wares:

glasses case

a pack of Marlboros

His favorite zippo lighter- it was quite old, with scratches on the black paint exposing the metal underneath. There were initials engraved near the bottom that read: "D.B"

A Colt M1911 Pistol + extra mags

Packed light today. Well shit, nothing to look over. He sighed, and grabbed the pack of cigarettes intent on repacking them by smacking the top, just to keep his hands busy. Or he could-- no--

The last time he tried to smoke in Ted's car, the blonde man wouldn't shut the hell up about "the smoke ruining the resale value", so Irwin had to threaten to shoot him as a friendly "yeah ok, I got it."

Sinking into his seat, he started to shake the cigarette box, striking it against the palm of his hand....

[ Upstate NY- 1978]

Richard Beyer ran a corner accounting firm that he built from the ground up on his own, according to Irwin. "Mr.B", they called him; few knew or referred to his actual name. He was ruthless, no nonsense- a man who by all accounts earned and demanded respect wherever he went. Mr. B did a damn fine job, as well. He was a complete whiz with numbers, barely needing a calculator when he worked. While staring at a form, he could tell you all of the adjusted amounts as he was handing it back to you. His business was a well-oiled machine free of blemishes, which intimidated the then 20-something Irwin...

The first thing Irwin noticed after accepting the job as Mr.B's assistant was the cloud of smoke that would fog up the room as they worked. Mr.B was THE definition of a chainsmoker.

"Helps me think." The man coughed and smiled through crooked teeth. "I see."

Irwin wasn't a smoker during his time with Mr.B, at least not when he first started. He sure as hell wasn't going to complain to his boss about how he found it difficult to breathe sometimes- Irwin was just happy to have a job. Although, Irwin didn't really like how the smoke would linger in his long, curly hair... He did eventually learn to..."appreciate" the smell as his 1st year work anniversary was creeping up.

One day as the two were working, Mr.B's phone rang -once- then it stopped, prompting the men to look at the phone together. 5 seconds passed and then the phone rang again, -once-, then the same thing happened afterwards- silence. Mr. B's eyes never left the red rotary phone; Irwin noticed this as his eyes traveled from the phone to his boss' face.

The phone rang once more- this time ringing out normally.

"I better take this." Mr. B said in a monotone voice, picking up the receiver. "S-sure, sir."

The phone call was brief. Irwin could only make out a few words: "Dicky", "a job", and strangely, "...Destroyer."

"Starting to get a little too old for this, y'know. But, shit, I'll see what I can do."

Once Mr. B placed the receiver back, Irwin quickly turned his attention over to his papers to make it look like he wasn't trying to eavesdrop on his boss.

"Kid..." He started. "Put that away. It's time I bring you along with me."

Irwin found himself in the woods, miles away from the office, with Mr. B beating the living shit out of some poor guy in a tattered suit. Something about "ratting on someone important, biting the hand that feeds you, you ungrateful shit."

Irwin couldn't believe his eyes- his boss turned this poor guy's face into a bloody pulp with his fists- he never knew his boss was that strong, or that he was a hitman....

Not wanting to get in the way and draw attention to himself, all Irwin could do was stand there, shovel in hand...his palms raw from being ordered to dig a hole fit enough to hide a body.....

"p--please!!" The pitiful man begged, spitting blood as he enunciated words. "I know nothing, honest, I d-didn't snitch on nobody!!"

The man was on his knees practically begging the old accountant for mercy. Mr. B, with a strange finesse, took the cigarette out of his mouth and blew the smoke in the guy's eyes, blinding him....insult to mass injury.

"Those words don't mean nothing to me, pal. It's just business."

With a swift uppercut, Mr. B sent the man flying backwards into the freshly dug dirt hole. The man at this point was incoherently babbling, wailing, making sounds that could only mean death was around the corner...sounds that would haunt Irwin's ears for a long time.

Digging into his back pocket, Mr. B threw Irwin a pistol, which he clumsily caught.

"Alrighty kid, right between the eyes, I know you can do it." "Sir---?? I---I-" Irwin stammered, fully in flight or fight mode. "Shoot him, c'mon kid! We haven't got all day!"

Something possessed Irwin that day he took that man's life. Maybe it was the man's blood that splattered on his face, clothes, his hands...

Irwin watched as the man drew his last breath, his eyes rolling in the back of his head.

What drove him to do it? Was it really the fear of his boss that caused him to pull the trigger? Was Irwin really that predisposed to blindly following orders? Time was a blur; he found himself shoveling dirt, making sure to cover the corpse that was starting to stink. Irwin didn't feel like he was in control of his body-autopilot- his brain refused to register anything except the stench of the dead man's body, making his stomach turn. Mr. B took notice of his protege's change in behavior. He took out another cigarette from his shirt pocket and lit it using his signature black zippo lighter that he always took with him.

"Irwin, take it." He said, offering the lit cigarette to the young man. "Out here, it'll help you concentrate, masks the smell, too. Don't make it a habit..."

Without hesitation, Irwin took it and started puffing. The smoke helped obscure the dead man's face long enough for the dirt to fully mask it. One last shovel full of earth and he was gone. Out of sight...

"Good job, kid. You're a natural."

Irwin reminisced on those words and how his 8 years in "the business" was coming up. He wasn't too sure if Mr.B would be proud of who he turned out to be, God bless him...that old bastard, Irwin was certain he'd see him again in Hell.

Maybe he'd share that tidbid with Ted and they'd celebrate at the Malibu later. Maybe. Er-- on second thought, no. Ah fuck it, Irwin could use an old fashioned, what better excuse for the occasional cocktail than this?

"H...Hey are you smoking??" Ted banged on the roof of his car, snapping Irwin back into reality. "Fucker, put that OUT, goddamn it."

Shoot, autopilot seemed to take over again as Irwin didn't register for a moment that he was smoking.

"Sorry." Irwin replied as he put the cigarette out on his tongue, flicking it out the window. "Just really needed it."

Ted started the car and rolled down all of the windows trying to air out the vehicle, blasting the AC to help speed up the process.

"Yeah well, ugh whatever. Listen, we've got some work to do, hope you packed--"

"I always have it on me."

[x]

[darkspellmaster]

Have we been overlooking the Key to Snake's survival

Spoilers for Recent Chapters of Kuroshitsuji.

So for those who have been reading, I hope this makes sense as I think it's an important factor in this arc. While I know everyone is wondering what is going to happen to Snake, I've noticed that there isn't much discussion about a few players that usually show up when someone dies and the rules the manga has for telegraphing a death.

(I should note that this tends to pertain to important characters usually, and not one offs like Mina and her husband, as I don't recall seeing a Grim Reaper in that arc at all.

During the first arc of Black Butler we met Grelle, who was hanging out with Madam Red. As noted, she was dressed as a normal human butler rather than her usual amazing self.

It wasn't long after that we got her true reveal and Aunt Anne wasn't with us.

We then get the Reapers showing up, namely William, in the circus arc early on as Specs (If I recall correctly).

William hangs around as a hint that death will be coming since he practically tells Sebastian this. Thus we see him reviewing Joker's records at the top of the burning mansion. Signaling that he's collecting the other members as well at some point or did so already. (Since Reapers can be just about anywhere.)

During the Murder arc, we don't have any reaper (sans the former one in the form of Undertaker at the end) and since we know Sebastian is a demon, we can safely assume that the normal mortal way of killing him is out. So no reapers, no deaths for important or known characters.

In the Campania arc (Luxury Liner arc) Ronald runs up and we get him saying hello with his outfit given we're shown his eyes and his suit.

So, again, we know for sure that someone is going to die, or at least there's going to be deaths happening. We also get Grelle back, and Will at the end, it's important to note that the trio do play a big role in giving us lore in this case along with collecting the souls of the dead, more importantly one of the bigger players in the arc, Ryan Stoker. (As with Baron Kelvin, both men have ties to Ciel through their connections. Stoker via Undertaker, and Kelvin to his past within their circles.)

In the Public School arc (Weston) we don't have a reaper at all, (other than Undertaker) and, once again, no death of players occur (as with Mina, and the Banker, the Queen's nephew is a lesser character). So we see the pattern continuing.

Emerald witch sees William and Grelle in Germany with our two German Reapers (Ruger and Sasha), and we have the deaths of several important villains.

Following this we have the Blue Cult, and yet again, no Reaper to be found in the music hall aspect of the Arc. But Grelle and Othello show up following this portion of the arc, and what does Grelle say to Sebastian and Ciel when they meet after finding the dead nobles. She'll see them again soon.

Not long after, Agni dies.

There is no Reaper during the time Ciel is on the run and by Lau's, and there is none during Mei-Rin and Ran-Mao's arc. It's only when we get to Baldroy's arc that we get Ronald once again.

And that leaves us with a twist that Sebastian saves Baldroy's life, along with Lau giving him his blood to save him. Ronald and will then confine Layla/Al, and we're left to wonder what this means in regard to the other arcs.

What have we learned so far, that nearly every time a Reaper shows up some form of death happens. That when a death may occur for an important character a Reaper will show up. So far this has not been broken, save Baldroy's story.

Most are thinking, we'll she's going to twist it. Snake will die because even though we don't see a reaper, that's a really bad cut, and we're getting a flashback.

However I propose that Snake has more of a part to play in this story. He mentions that he and the snakes are from an unknown, far away place. We also have hints of him being in an orphanage. We know from Finny that there were children being experimented upon, and part of the whole arc seems to be showing how similar Snake and Finny are. So I don't believe he's going to die, and I suspect the reason why is due to how influenced this is by Promised Neverland.

In the story there is a character known as Sister Krone, who helps the children out, but for selfish reasons.

In the end, while she does somewhat help the children, she pretty much betrays them for her own safety, though it does her little good in the end.

However, I want to present a character that I think is a call back to Sister Krone, and she has no name as of yet for some reason.

Our Maid on the Right Lower corner has no name, yet is shown to be someone who plays a part in things. She's always around so we see her a lot even though, unlike Susan or (was it Jamie?) the other younger maid, she has no name. Why is that? Why be so prominent yet not have a name? It's an odd thing, and normally a character like her would have some name at this point, why is hers being kept secret it seems.

She's also been shown to be the most nervous about everything. Even in her first appearance she's being shown to be quiet and later when Doll insists, she has a more worried look about things.

She's the one that dropped the plate, and thus again given prominence above the other characters, and, to be blunt, she's one of the few POC characters shown in this place, and I think the only maid here.

What's got my suspicions up is that People keep saying "There's no Ada to save Snake" and yet, we see three maids go down to the lab. Three of them, meaning that all three know how that stuff works.

Susan, the one in the front, Jamie (the girl with the curly hair) and our last unknown maid, who, unlike the other two -who are all business, is looking upset, nervous, and other unknown emotions. She's clearly not a fan of this, and doesn't like this at all, as shown in their entry in Chapter 203.

Come Chapter 204 we get these two exchanges with her.

She questions things, and note her stance. While the other two are, again, all business like, she looks honestly unhappy and uneasy.

Body language reads as:

Upturned brows = can indicate anxiety or worry.

Down turned eyes = indicate feeling uncertain or Guilty.

Hands in the folded position = can indicate being less confident, unsure, insecure, and nervous.

All together it shows that this maid is questioning her role in this, and, as we see with her questions, her slight hesitation, it's clear that she's not sure about what they're doing, and, more than likely, feeling guilty over it.

We see the same reaction from her again when the other maid gives her the dress Ginny was wearing when she was fledged. So it becomes blatantly obvious that we're supposed to pay attention to this woman who is feeling guilty.

We don't see her leaving but we have to assume that she did due to the fact that she's not there during the confrontation.

Which brings us to the big point of who they're hearing.

The kids and Finny are running away from the sounds, but, more than likely the one that's going to run into them is going to be this maid.

So why do I think it's likely going to be this maid that the kids and Finny are hearing.

We Don't see her leaving, but we know she was there with Susan and the other dead maid.

We can assume since she went down with them that she knew about the tunnel and what was going on with Doll, since Susan mentioned bringing out the Radiance in front of her.

Since neither women came back, she's the most likely to go down to see what is going on.

Given that she knows what they are doing she knows how to work the machines, and would have to know how to help. It's also clear from earlier that she was close enough to Susan to go with her down to the area where they kept the children.

Which brings us back to the situation in promised Neverland. In the story Kone gave information to the children, but as I said, betrayed them. If Yana-sensei is using the idea, given all the implications with the story there's something there, from the early arc (Jailbreak I think?) of PN, then it's possible that, unlike the original story, this maid will actually help Snake and the kids.

Given her reactions and her expressions, she's harboring guilt. Finny wanted to stay and help but had to leave. More than likely it's not beyond belief that this maid will run into them on their way out, and, probably use Finnian's blood, or one of the kids blood to save Snake.

Now why would she do that over taking the kids away?

Simplest answer, Finny asks her too and her desire to save a life, over taking one, would probably lead her to do the right thing in this case.

Why Finny's blood?

According to Celtic Legends Finnian, the mythic character, was given the gift of healing from the salmon of Knowledge. When he gathered water into his hands, and one drank from this the person will be healed.

We know that Finny is an experiment, and, given that the scientist shot his siblings/fellow experiments in the head rather than the chest or other body parts to kill them, indicated that the experiments healed. We also see this in the fight with Jumbo that Finny survives Jumbo's hit, and it's good by the next day.

So my theory is that the maid will meet the kids, give aid to Snake, and then likely take the kids away.

To be honest, The one I think has the death mark on him is either Tanaka, or Real Ciel again. Yana did state that Ciel will not make it to his 14th birthday. But O!Ciel is NOT Ciel, and never was. So the Ciel she's probably talking about is R!Ciel.

I know this isn't perfect, but it seems the most likely over Snake being turned into a Bizarre Doll, or outright dying.

The other option is that there are some snakes that can heal their own wounds, or he could shed his skin and heal himself that way.

[niziye]

Omg

I read your thing abt Kai’s changing eye colour being due to abbey experiments and can I just say I am on the same frikin wavelength 😭😭😭😭 heck I even believe that the front grayish part of his hair was also due to the weird experiments

Forgive my rambling but oh my god it’s an HC very dear to me that Kai’s eyes turned crimson when black drawn we was split from dranzer during abbey experimentation, so his eyes are pure red to show that the “darkness” of his bit beast no longer exists.

I wanted to ask about your HC’s on the matter, I’m sure it’s interesting!

Love your art a lot btw keep slaying!

Wah, thanks for sending an ask ✨✨

Firstly, english is not my first language, so I'm using the good old translator and reviewing the things I know.

I love HC about the duality of Dranzer and Black Dranzer, so your HC about color reflecting the lack of counterpart is sublime. I loved this 🌟

To be very hosnestly about this HC (abt Kai's eye color change), I think it's incredibly common, but at the same time I don't see much about it out there. I wonder if it's because it's something very implicit in the fandom or it's just in my head lol

I've had that for a while actually, and several other things. I liked to use some of them when I was writing fanfics many years ago, nowadays they just gather dust in my notes 🍃

The fact that Kai's eyes change color I attribute to two things: 1) her state in relation to the control of Dranzer or Black Dranzer - and any versions of her - that are from another HC, and 2) the experiments at the Abbey. So I'm focusing on that second one.

Lesgo

✦ Kai began receiving medical treatment after the events of the first season in the Russian championship.

✦ He developed some late symptoms due to the lack of certain substances and one of the side effects was the change in the color of his eyes and the tone of his hair.

✦ This also happened to Tala and Bryan, it depends on the type of substance used and how long they were exposed.

✦ To alleviate symptoms, both physical and mental, a medical treatment provided by BBA in association with Miss Judy was developed.

✦ This treatment was difficult to achieve for the simple fact that the substances used were known only to Balkov scientists. At the time the majority were in prison, so Mr D had to give in to certain "methods" which included special treatment and reduced sentences.

✦ Ironically, Kai was a guinea pig even with the fall of Voltaire and Balkov, because even the emergency treatment was experimental.

✦ At first he took a lot of medicine, vials, packs and even injections. He was troublesome at first, but about two years in he managed to stabilize. Medications have also been used to try to improve the symptoms of amnesia.

✦ He still carries bottles with him, but only those for daily consumption.

✦ From time to time he finds flaws in his hair, sometimes strands appear in different tones or are "switched". He knows when he is close to undergoing another change by observing the roots of his hair and around the pupils of his eyes. (I find the idea that he actually "checks" very funny xD).

✦ Since he wears reading glasses, the contact lenses excuse is quite convenient.

✦ Sometimes the medicines are not enough to control some symptoms such as dizziness and tremors and he needs a few days off. Some medicines are really potent and he is often warned by his doctor not to exceed his limits, not when it comes to his medications and rest.

✦ At some point he was asked why he took medicine, to which he replied that they were, in fact, vitamins for your training, until one time Max secretly took a pill - they were for insomnia - and slept for a whole day. This caused quite a bit of confusion and so sermons and admissions were made.

- note: of course I'm going to use Kai's appearance in V-force to promote HC, it's convenient that this part of the story also works as a transition.

Sooooo

I consider this summary to be quite superficial, If I count all the side effects, we will have enough drama for the rest of the year (and I'm not even counting the Borg boys) bwahaha

Please forgive me for any translation errors 🙇🙇

[eyedoeluhn]

I think a daring synthesis is a better celestial forge fic than Brocktons celestial forge.

To preface this comparison slash review, and all posts after I make on ADS, I’ve only read from chapters 86 (a glib facsimile 2.1) to 145 (killing hope 7.9) of A Daring Synthesis, the section of the fic that covers Greg with the celestial forge. I have not and have no plans of reading the first 85 chapters which are Greg with a gamer power. Those chapters ARE plot relevant as the fic has Greg go back in time from the original timeline during the enchadia fight and are referenced frequently in the fic. I have had a summary of the first section from ads defender #1 and I don’t think that really impacted my experience negatively with the fic. I have read all of the celestial forge. Both of those fics are very different in experience and I’m it going to recommend reading either one fully here, one because I would never want anyone to subject themselves to the forge let alone BCF, and two because defending ADS is how @zizbombs pays for his robux and I’m not going to push him out of the market. this is going to feature heavy spoilers of each, it’s not my plot comparison but I’m going to mention events.

I think to start elsewhere from how unpleasant the experience of reading ADS would be a little disingenuous. Full disclosure, I’ve attempted to read ADS from chapter one several times and completely bounced off of it.

I have a very low gamer tolerance and a lower Greg protagonist tolerance on top of that. Im also not a fan of the slur frequency. Yes it’s an accurate 4channy Greg but I don’t like Greg anyways. Also the authors opinion on this is ass. so this was pretty firmly in the not my thing territory.

I did skip a large portion of the character development and Greg does still say the n word but we’ve graduated to refraining from dropping slurs. As often.

If you don’t like Greg and gamerfic as a catagory, I’d recommend skipping it as well.

Moving past that admittedly large roadblock to judge it on CF merits, it’s….pretty fantastic actually. This is a post glazing ADS via the worlds easiest target ever that I’ve previously lambasted but it’s actually exceeded my expectations.

ADS does not have a filler bloat problem. ADS is just under 400k words including a previous timeline that extends all the way to enchadia starting from before Taylor’s trigger. We’ve started again from before the locker, to the locker, to a ziz attack and now the aftermath of, while BCF is still weeks out from its first endbringer attack and hasn’t finished up its bakuda arc. Greg has frankly done more good for the city than Joe has by several times over. He’s volunteered in hospitals passing out pills that have healing effects, Joe has only selectively healed a handful of people, then the bakuda bomb victims, and Aisha once visited hospitals during the absolute peak of overfilling to provide his significantly better healing tech. Greg has openly shared his whitebox and black boxed tech with Armsmaster (to use in fights as well causing the arrest of hookwolf) and Dragon and a network of other tinkers which has had a positive ripple effect. Joe has dangled white box miniaturized cold fusion in front of Dragon that he purposefully kept the secret of how it worked so it couldn’t be recreated as a bribe then took it back when she refused it. Greg hasn’t spent ages cloistered off to himself, he frequently interacts with an entire cast of characters who have their own motives and aren’t created by him and working for him and are his own age. The fact that’s a bonus is crazy. ADS also addresses Cauldron with a lot more grace than a lot of fic, which I’m not even putting here because we haven’t seen a pov or even a trace of a cauldron agent besides Alexandria holding a meeting in BCF because there’s so much goddamn filler.

A large contributor to this in BCF is Joe getting a new power and then agonizing to himself about all the implications and uses of his power anda description of getting it and all the rolls get mentioned even failed ones frankly and it takes so much goddamn time.

Reading ADS, I nearly missed the first power roll. And they got shorter. And then they got interesting. I was genuinely always looking forwards for the next roll, not because I was excited for the power (though they were still significant) but because they actually affected the plot. Which was frankly an amazing move.

In Brocktons Celestial Forge there is a semi visual component to power rolls. Joe goes into a “thinking stance” which seems tied to contemplating his powers but specifically after rolls, this seems involuntary but he doesn’t really try to stop it in the first place. This stance isn’t well described but it’s noted by every character who witnesses them and is quickly associated with power use and theorized upon. This still remains a rarity though we discuss the theorization in depth because of well, it’s a PR an and reaction piece elevating it to the highest priority of discussion.

When he does gain powers in public it tends to cause social friction—New Wave assumes he is activating a battle thinker power and is threatening them, those attending the Summit believe he is contemplating something that could have dire consequences for them—since it’s not explained what exactly he’s doing, all characters must glaze and fear Jozef, and his erratic behavior fucking the bay up. Beyond that that’s basically all the relevance the roll has. The Celestial Forge is just a collection of powers materialized as “stars” and “nodes” that his Shard wants to collect, unrelated to the plot. They aren’t tied to Worm specifically in any meaningful way and exist on their own, truly out of context. The powers themselves are mulled upon in hypothetical for paragraphs and paragraphs.

On the other hand, ADS approaches the forge in an entirely different context. Firstly the physical consequences of the rolls are more of the vision itself. Greg actively eats shit sometimes, falling flat on his face. There’s no awed moment of everyone waiting quietly with bated breath as Joe contemplates how he can upgrade his ultra sword that he’s literally never used for the 10^50th time. The text itself is also brief, the original one is a small paragraph of like, four lines and then it gets shorter until it becomes plot relevant. However this is not the only consequence of rolling for powers, we’ll pop back to that in a second because I’m bad at formatting and you’re reading a tumblr review about fanfiction.

The celestial forge itself is kind of a bad power set. I’ve complained about it before but in short, it’s heavily unbalanced, doesn’t fit worm’s philosophy whatsoever, isn’t even really about crafting. It’s designed seemingly around eradicating stakes as quickly as possible and quickly becomes hard to write. Both ADS and BCF work off of a modified CF. It’s just that BCF works with what the author feels most comfortable writing, and ADS based off of what would make the best narrative.

BCF cut all unfamiliar IPs and most insert companions whose personality is not dedicated by the author, while ADS takes an axe to many of the weak points of the forge. Spent too long idling in a safe space that can’t be attacked or compromised? Gone. Most of the more absurd free gear has been cut, like tinkertech. Perks that improve your body instead of giving you crafting powers are also gone, no free indestructibility and super speed and super strength without technology. They’re acknowledging to be missing from the forge and I’m all the gladder to see them go.

To me, the essence of a tinkerfic is about building things with your own hands and the reliance on your technology. A tinker who isn’t a squishy wizard because he’s been magically enhanced to be an ultra man and is really just using a vorpal sword he mentally created within a second out of materials he summoned into being for fun isn’t compelling. It’s not what I’m here for when I read ‘tinker’. BCF is, for all its technobabble, hardly a tinkerfic with how much Joe relies on his other abilities , and how much further they’d stretch if he didn’t waste so much time working on tech he doesn’t need in the first place. Joe is not a tinker. He did not even start with tinker powers, and frankly when I talk about him and read about him I don’t really classify him as a tinker. He’s a shaker.

With literally millions of less words, Greg is a tinker. When you strip him of technology, he’s pretty goddamn helpless, which is something the CF (and jumpchains) loathe. He needs to eat, sleep, can get hurt, he gets his arm ripped off a couple times even. Vulnerability and conflict means the power fantasy train has to end and when you don’t address that, writing a six thousand words about a spaceship isn’t going to match the empty pit where meaningful conflict and plot progression is supposed to go.

But ADS goes a step further than cutting the slow strangler vine killing conflict from BCF’s power tree. It actively makes these rolls vital to the plot and character progression of Greg, not directly because of the powers themselves, but Gaylien.

Gay Alien, aka Gaylien, technically goes by the Celestial Forge but is referred to as Gaylien by everyone else including myself. He is not the CF, but a new consciousness implanted with the memories of fanon slash worm and an innate knowledge of the original Forge, and god, I love this character and I think it was an incredible choice.

To contrast, BCF has a direct analogous character. It’s Forge itself is the powers of the post spark jumper that is Joe’s “shard”. Joes shard has been described and acts in continuity with the opinions of the fanbase, particularly on places like Reddit, combined. Shard communicates with Joe by sharing its emotions with him. It isn’t really a specific character than it is in its influence on Joe. Which sucks ass. Let’s break the “fanon insert character” down a little bit.

I think it’s pretty safe for me to say on Wormblr that a lot of people who post about worm haven’t actually read the book and there’s a lot of….interesting ideas floating around about how things go down. Mashing this into canonical worm is always a fun treat in my opinion, and I’m always a fan of seeing how it plays out when canon is taken seriously. When you openly say a characters opinions are based off of fanon, I don’t think it’s erroneous to assume the character is largely misguided and working off of the wrong information.

This is not true in BCF. Joe’s Shard’s information on canon events is all correct, things like aura theory that are just categorically untrue. Joe’s shard DOES lead Joe wrong—in its moral attitude. Shard wants to see Taylor beat people up, has an affection for the undersiders despite Joe’s reluctance based on their personal histories. This isn’t bad per se, but combined with the other letdowns just irons away some of Joe’s character. After his trigger Joe relied on his shards emotional support to the point that in the early chapters it was basically making the decisions as noted by Lisa, and when it told him Taylor was the coolest person ever and the undersiders were all super cool and sympathetic and he needed to help Taylor, he ultimately chose to work with them because of it. However shortly after with the bank job, Taylor maimed Aegis with Joe’s tech, he was horrified to be dragged into their criminal behavior (eyeroll but hey pussies are characters too) but ended up committing, in for a penny in for a pound. This permanently hurt his relationship with his shard, by that I mean it’s pretty much written out of the story, taking a backseat besides warning Joe of big threats like March.

Joe operates off of all of its information on the Protectorate and New Wave like it’s true and this is never portrayed as negative or harmful to him in any real way. Armsmaster is a control freak who’s impossible to work with because he’s too much of a glory hound to do anything productive. Victoria is brainwashing her whole family. Piggot really is a fraudster, too cape racist to be an effective leader. So on so forth, there’s no friction between fact and fiction, no meat to this addition. Shard really just feels like a roundabout way for Joe to operate with some level of awareness of some canon events, and a reason why a total doormat like him would handle living after his trigger event and ever work with the undersiders.

Gaylien is very specifically not the forge. He’s also very specifically dead fucking wrong. He is also not written out of the story in increments, but becomes a bigger presence within the fic the longer it goes on. His gimmick is not emotional influence towards Greg, he’s a completely separate person sharing Greg’s body who takes control after every roll. First for only a few seconds, then a minute, then five, then ten, then hours at a time. He wakes up wherever Greg is and fumbles through trying to work out what’s going on while Greg quickly becomes aware of him and tries to figure out what he even is or what he could want. Their relationship is antagonistic from the start, Gaylien is more “Taylor saved the World” and “the Protectorate is another gang” than a Greg fan and is pretty upset to be dealing with him at all, while Greg isn’t pleased that a guy who hates his coworkers and himself is stealing his body, and staying even longer each time. Did I mention Greg goes to join the Protectorate? It’s great.

Gaylien as a character is incredibly interesting from the get go. Initially all we see of him is from other POVs, Greg listening to recordings he set up, the other Wards when Gaylien crashes a graduation party, before we settle into his point of view for several chapters. There’s two aspects here that make him more enjoyable than Shard.

As a plot device he’s an active threat. Existentially he stays longer every power roll, every couple thousand rolls is another step closer to Gaylien taking control. And when he does take control it has consequences for Greg, even when he sets alarms to warn others and creates Pilot, his sexy chatbot, with the capacity to restrain him. He spits venom at Amy, trashes Greg’s room and technology, spouts random information like Rebecca Costa-Brown being Alexandria to Armsmaster in plainclothes (which he doesn’t take seriously lol) and its legitimately a problem to where you don’t want power rolls to happen and when you get close to one you’re just praying Greg’s in a position where the fallout isn’t big. Which is where one of my favorite moments comes in.

Greg learns to reject rolls. With active effort he can deny the Forge’s connection and opt out of taking a power, and has full incentive to do so. To me it really summarizes how the author treats the forge and powerwank where rejecting powers is an incredibly useful and incentivized skill. We’re so detached from sitting in time dilation thinking about powers to get powers that this is seriously hype. And Greg having some agency out of his hate for the forge and his powers is a lot more interesting than “well my powers unconditionally love and support me in everything but are kind of weird so I ignore them on moral questions”.

As a character, Gaylien is a lot more interesting. With the CF taken as post spark perks and how little backstory the forge itself has, the most character you can prescribe to Shard is that it’s a post spark jumper traveling the multiverse who wants to see Taylor blow things up and wanted to help out the guy who harassed Parian for reasons I guess. On the other hand, Gaylien is a fresh person. Like, completely fresh, never eaten, slept, shat. Literally all he knows is that the world is going to end, the heroes and cauldron are all evil, and Taylor is going to save the world and he needs to help her. He’s actually a pretty sympathetic character, he feels. He gets stressed and confused, feels guilty, gets angry, he genuinely likes building and takes pride in his creations and while he’s an asshole and wrong he’s just operating off of incorrect information and is incredibly stubborn. Even Greg has a short lived moment of sympathy for Gaylien despite the encroaching ego death he’s causing when he’s lost and alone. Then, when the rolls start coming fast enough for Greg to be gone and Gaylien takes center stage we really start seeing his character shine. The last several chapters have all been Gaylien POV, from his first appearances and now what he’s doing with full control of the body. Gaylien believes that Taylor is always right, that the world is going to end, and that he can help her become something glorious. It’s genuine, it’s stupid, and it’s great. I really want to see more of him.

ADS also makes several great points with the differences between Greg and Gaylien and how they use their powers compared to Joe. Gaylien, much like Joe, spends a lot of his time after each power rebuilding items and over engineering simple things and putting lots of effort into every item for small increases. Greg on the other hand doesn’t replace things if they don’t need to be, functionality is his most valued aspect. Joe had an “arc” about his obsessive rebuilding of his kit where Aisha told him he had high standards and his technology was cool even when he didn’t try and he eventually started doing the rebuilding less often.

Bringing up the coolness of tech, Greg spends less time glazing his technology than Gaylien (and of course Joe), despite literally admitting he’s making decisions to look cool. Greg is open with his more selfish desires, he’s making the bot that restrains him super hot because he wants a sexy robot. He used his powers to make porn. A lot of porn. He makes figurines of his waifus, designs his suit so he’s taller, goes out of his way to use his powers to look nice. This is all less than Gaylien who lauds his technology all the time while making it instead of having a looking into the camera moment. Gaylien does have a large ego and loves his tech, but it’s a noticeable difference in the POVs. There’s a specific line from Greg about not being a pussy about making his gear look cool because he had to or not admitting it, which reminds me of Joe.

In BCF, Joe physically cannot make things below a level of quality (despite powers he could use to mitigate that). He is “forced” to make things supernaturally beautiful all the time and constantly look cool, handsome and awesome. Don’t worry, if you thought this had consequences he has a nano machine swarm to help him print anything normal he’d need and he can just glamor up to look average so we can have our paragraphs of paragraphs of paragraphs describing just how amazingly awesome he is and even more this time I promise he looks and wow he even started a fashion war which he’s winning by leagues look at how super humanly hot he is phew. While it’s in character for Greg, it’s definitely a breath of fresh air and an interesting critique.

Frankly, Greg and Gayliens dynamic is far more interesting than Joe and his Shards. Joe doesn’t even have a unique relationship with it, he’s unconditionally loved by his team, several sentient objects, has a supportive therapist, so on so forth. Greg and Gaylien are both battling over the right to be alive and who is making the most of their time with their powers, Greg with his knowledge of being a cauldron agent and protectorate hero and Gaylien with his information on Taylor and Zion. The fear of ego death is treated with weight, where in BCF joe has a blink and you miss it arc about struggling with implanted memories and impulses before deciding to not bother to fight them and a large part of those impulses vanish asides from a few “I have magic ptsd from this world” for a chapter or two outside of paragraphs of filler about his past lives. Frankly, ADS does that better too. Greg’s adjustment period to this timeline is fraught with anguish and uncertainty and his gamer ptsd about missing his old powers is also a problem. His old life means a lot to him, who he was and what he did, it’s not something he contemplates for a time and moves on.

Greg’s clones are also just better than Joes clones. Ugh, seriously. They’re short lived for one and bring up things actually heavy in Greg’s thoughts instead of “goto the therapist” or whatever and he’s open about summoning them for emotional reasons. To be frank Greg finds his moral footing extremely quickly and sticks to it a lot better than Joe. He doesn’t spent hours mulling over stupid stuff and he’s open to actually relevant questions, like handling being a cauldron agent and wanting to help case fifty threes, the fic acknowledging that these ideas aren’t at odds and Greg is also made to really understand firsthand the scope of cauldron.

Man the cauldron stuff is so good. So is the ziz fight honestly. reading ADS was actually fun, armsmaster is great, Amy was fun, it was just a better fic. I could roll my eyes and laugh along when Greg did something self indulgent because one, it’s Greg, two he was self regulating a lot better than Joe fuckin’ was, and three it wasn’t getting in the way of plot. While the rest of the fic isn’t my speed and I have my problems with it, I’m definitely going to be seated for the next update and start to consider ADS on its own footing. As well as comparing it to BCF more because honestly it feels like there’s some digs in there that I wholly approve of. I have more thoughts, and I’ll probably have more as I reread it and more updates come, but I think this is a good enough opener.

also yeah I have a slur counter. Nice one ironypus. I’ve already read BCFs terrible writing decision of sexualizing a black teenage girl until she’s “made modest” by the adult white mc who adultifies her into his on call therapist, so both CFs do have a racism problem. Fair reason not to read, I dnf’d the first half because it was too much on that count a couple times.

Something something Joe getting lapped by Greg making waifu porn something go read tilt. Seriously go read tilt.

[luaspersona]

hey y’all, how have you been?

i know it’s been a while, and i know i promised a fic that was supposed to be posted earlier this month and that it’s been some time since i dropped a review. but a lot of stuff happened and i realized that i needed some time off. during that time, i reflected a lot and considered not returning, maybe only posting the seoul town road story and going offline for good. eventually tho, i understood how much i missed reading and how much i couldn’t really stop coming up with ideas and outlining some stories — i like this and for the most part, it makes me really happy.

but i wanted to talk a bit about the stuff that made me second-thought coming back. i wanted to be open about stuff that’s depressing and demotivating in this community, especially because i’ll change a lot of things about how i interact here.

this will be a long text, but it’s really important if you follow me. i wanna make it clear tho, before anything, that i’m speaking for myself here, and myself only.

⇢ the first thing i wanna say is that i’ll be generally less active. i used to think that in order to become a popular blog or whatever i had to be chronically online, posting all the time and all. after giving it some thought, i can't really tell if that's true or not, but the thing is: i don’t have the mental health for it. so i won't push myself. but also, if you write something and want me to read it, please send it to me! shamelessly and guiltlessly promote your work! i probably won’t see it on the feed, but i’m always open for recommendations, i just don't have the time to look for it anymore.

⇢ i’ll also go through my followers and block anyone who doesn’t have their age displayed or looks like a bot. no questions asked. this isn’t a blog for minors, and i wanna protect myself. understand how tumblr works if y’all wanna be here.

⇢ i will finish and post seoul town road soon. please be patient. 

⇢ lately, i’ve seen a lot of wonderful writers deactivate due to lack of interaction and support. i understand we’re here working, writing and sharing for free because we *chose to*, but it's hard to speak to the void. so please, don’t let this become a place where authors are talking to themselves while feeling unsafe due to plagiarism or hate. i understand the reasons why someone might be a silent reader, but... just don't make the authors you like feel alone, y'all (i can write some tips and general guides for reviewing and interacting with writing blogs if y’all are interested).

⇢ ok, so… i thought a lot about whether or not to talk about it. it was already super messy, even if i wasn’t online at the time and didn’t see it happening (i'm sorry if this is just repetition, and i bet y'all are sick of it). but ultimately, the main reason why i hesitated to come back was because of what happened to M, so i kinda need to vent about that.

M was one of the oldest blogs here, always open to chat and interact and doing god's work for our horny and sentimental souls (shape of your body is actually one of my favorite stories ever and made me realize a bunch of stuff about myself to the point where i quoted some of it to my therapist at the time), and y’all came for them in such a nasty, violent way, misgendering and attacking a person that, upon first being called out for writing something insensitive, was immediately open to discussion and hearing what y’all had to say (regardless if it really was insensitive or not, the discussion was more than welcomed by them).

what shocks me the most, is that y’all are supposedly from a fandom of a bunch of dudes who once wrote problematic stuff, but educated themselves after accepting criticism and changed. if y’all understand that our oppressions are systematic, y’all have to understand that everyone has stuff to learn and stuff to let go. i say that as a black woman, who once used to perpetrate racist shit because that was how i was raised and taught. i say that as a bi woman, who once used to perpetrate biphobic and queerphobic rhetoric because that was how i was raised and taught. i say that as a human being, who once used (and probably still do to some capacity) to perpetrate prejudice and problematic behavior because that was how i was raised and taught.

this is not to say we should forgive and forget whenever someone says stuff that’s wrong or suspicious, but sometimes people really don’t understand that what they’ve said is offensive or from a place of unfamiliarity (not sure if that's a real word), and if we gave the boys the benefit of the doubt and still supported them (and are now being rewarded with their care and attention) why can’t we do the same for ourselves? not to mention how transphobic most of y’all were, all while calling someone out for doing something you deemed problematic, like ??? fuck y’all tbh. seeing how they were treated, and learning about the tea blog made me physically sick. someone who has always been such a light in this community being dragged from one (debatable) mistake — which they acknowledged and apologized for — made me depressed af.

it all made this look like stan twitter, where every interaction feels like an attempt to expose someone and draw hate towards them. this makes me feel unsafe as hell. and i don’t know… this whole environment is not as it used to be. there were a bunch of nice projects i wanted to share, i was working on jade’s profile for a nice little thing i wanted to do to support the writing community, i was working on monthly recs, but… idk. i’m not saying i won’t do them, just saying it might take longer for me to feel comfortable here again.

⇢ i know i'm no one. i'm a little blog from the corner of our community, and i barely have enough followers for all of this to mean anything. but this is still my blog, and it's still a place that was supposed to feel good. and i want to have some control over it, even if no one cares necessarily.

anyway. i’m depressed, and i’m saying stuff i might regret, but. yeah. that’s it ig. i'll return slowly and i missed y'all, especially on discord, and i'm sorry for vanishing. i'll also be rb this for the next days to make sure that i reaches everyone i want it to reach.

[aeoki]

Number Eight - Tripping: Chapter 1

Characters: Rinne, HiMERU, Kohaku & Niki Location: Los Angeles Townscape

HiMERU: It’s one bad thing after the other – it’s starting to get dark.

What should we do, Amagi? Our pockets have just been filled after completing our previous mission. We should find a nearby inn to stay the night.

Rinne: No, we ain’t doing that.

HiMERU: That was a quick answer.

Rinne: There’s nothing to think about. We can’t afford to waste precious time.

If the show has taken our car away from us, then obviously, that means we can get it back.

HiMERU: Right. That would be the logical conclusion after trying to read into the producer’s intentions.

You have a point. It’s a mission shrouded in mystery, but there should be a clue somewhere. Let’s move based on that.

Shiina, Oukawa. Any objections?

Niki: Nope. I’m totally fine since I just ate all that food earlier.

In fact, I don’t wanna be stuck here since I haven’t even had any proper local food yet~!

HiMERU: Hehe. You’re as gluttonous as always, Shiina.

Kohaku: I’m fine too, HiMERU-han.

I prepared myself thinkin’ the show would be like “The Minotaur’s Labyrinth”. So this feels like heaven compared to that, right?

HiMERU: Thank you. It’s reassuring to hear you say that.

Niki: It was hell for us last time – we had to fight a raging bull and had to do all those punishments~ It feels like a trip this time, so I don’t think I feel any stress.

HiMERU: Indeed. Being too familiar and comfortable with a situation can certainly be terrifying. People couldn’t put up with us in the past, so we’ve landed ourselves in a pretty nice role.

…Truth be told, HiMERU feels relieved in this situation.

Rinne: Relieved?

HiMERU: You should be able to understand without my having to tell you, Amagi.

It may be a shoot led by idols, but “Number Eight” doesn’t have scripts nor an outline for the show. It’s not pretty to watch.

At this rate, people will think “Crazy:B’s” chaotic behaviour was just something the media made up… That was very close to becoming a reality.

Kohaku: “Crazy:B’s” style consists of breakin’ up the pre-established harmony and stereotypes, after all.

Niki: Yeah, I know what you mean.

The one who must’ve been the most perplexed about this situation has to be Rinne-kun, right? He’s been oddly well-behaved ever since we stepped foot overseas.

Rinne: Nah. Your hunch doesn’t work for anything other than food.

…Wait, maybe not?

Niki: ?

Rinne: Maybe Niki’s right. I haven’t been that energetic…

Sorry. I guess I’m just tired ‘cause I’m not used to being overseas.

Niki: I knew it! I thought you’ve been acting weird – like that bathroom break you took during lunch.

The normal Rinne-kun would ignore the script or missions and just drive wherever he wanted to go.

Rinne: Yeah. That’s what I’d love to do, but… I’m not feelin’ great. Maybe it’s ‘cause I don’t vibe with the place here~?

So I’m counting on ya! I ain’t feeling up to scratch, so buy dinner for me!

You might be feeling happy after doing that food review, but we haven’t eaten anything since lunch. You’re the chef here, so you gotta make sure you’re feeding us, alright?

Niki: Ah, you tricked me, Rinne-kun! You just wanted to make me empathise with you, so you could make me your errand boy!

You’re a real liar! No one’s gonna believe you if you cry wolf, you know…!

Rinne: Tch, looks like the cat’s outta the bag. And you were this close to being my errand boy~

HiMERU: Enough chattering, you two. Let’s go shopping for dinner.

We should head out right away after resupplying. Otherwise, we won’t have time to find our car.

Rinne: Oh, yeah…

This area has paved roads so it should be easy to spot a car with a steering wheel on its right side.

I’ll ask a nearby driver if they’ve seen a black Japanese car.

Kohaku: So we’ll be searchin’ for the car on foot? Okay, let’s do this.

If we run out of time in an unfamiliar place, then it’ll just be like what HiMERU-han said and our reputation will take a hit, won’t it?

Niki: Well, I don’t think we had much of a reputation in the first place.

I don’t want another disbandment notice ever again.

It makes me shiver just imagining the suffering I’ll have to endure if I let go of my current idol and chef job!

Rinne: Right? We’ve gotta thank our client for giving us this work offer.

We’ve got sixteen hours left. Time to get ready for the second half.

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[moiravim]

Rainy Nights

Fem (gender fluid) Loki x GN Reader

Fluff

You worked in a small library in New York. Most of the books were used, but costed one to two dollars, so sales were great. Expecially during summer when everyone had time off to read.

You sit near the cash register, typing on your computer. You were currently writing a short story. Not that anyone would read it, but you had your dreams just like everyone else.

A familiar face walks up and you realize Loki is buying another book. She comes almost every day and you wonder if she actually reads all the books she buys.

"Hey, yn. It's nice seeing you again" she says as she smiles and hands you the book she's buying. "Hey Loki, it's nice to see you too. You know, with how fast you read these books it would be much cheaper to use a library..." You respond to her.

She just smiles at you. "I'd rather just keep the books.. it's nice having them, it's almost like a trophy" you smile and nod understandingly.

Loki is beautiful. You can't deny it. The only problem was that you were too shy to ask for her number or ask her on a date.

She starts to walk out when you stop her by stuttering out; "hey, Loki- um.. I was wondering if you'd want to maybe go on a- go to dinner with me."

She smiles as she turns around and responds "I'd love to. I've been waiting for you to ask me out". She giggles as you stare in shock.

At least it was nice knowing she felt the same as you did. She waves as she turns around and shouts "I'll meet you back here at 7!"

You stare as she walks out the door. You look at the time to see it's 5:30. You plan to close the store at 6 and get ready for the date.

As you get ready you think of where to take her. You probably should've planned this much earlier...

You remember a nice pasta place nearby which recently opened. It was in your price zone and had good reviews.

When she gets there you see her in a stunning black dress and look back down at your cheap (suit/dress).

She smiles at you and says; "I got you something". She hands you a green beaded bracelet and lifts wrist to show how she has a matching one.

You smile back as you put it on and thank her. You hook your arms as you guide her to the restaurant you picked out.

You get a table and sit in the booth across from her. "So... What do you do in your free time?" Loki asks you. "I write. I also enjoy reading... Obviously." You respond akwardly as she chuckles. You smile.

The waiter comes over and you both order. "What about you, what do you like to do? ...Other than reading." You ask her. "I like to paint." She states happily.

The room grows quiet when your food comes and you both start eating. You focus on the music in hopes to avoid the awkwardness. She seems so much more calm.

You wonder if she can tell your anxious. Your question is answered when she puts her hand on yours and asks you; "are you feeling okay?...you seem very nervous."

You nod. "Yes, I'm okay. I just get anxious... I'm sorry." She looks at you sadly. "don't apologize. That's not something you need to apologize for."

You both finish your food and pay. As you open the door you realize it's pouring rain. "Oh no... I'm so sorry-" she cuts you off by giggling and pulling you into the rain.

You take your jacket off and put it over the two of you as you run through the rain. Eventually the jacket was soaking wet and was no longer protecting you from the rain so you took it off, tying it around your waist.

You two stopped at a park, still soaking wet and ran through the beautiful nature trails. You stopped near a fountain and sit on the bench in front of it.

Even though your hair was a mess and her makeup was running down her face, this moment was still perfect. She leaned in and kissed you as you kissed back.

You got back up and the two of you playfully ran around the park before stopping at a small booth in the park.

You went up to the sad, wet man selling ice cream and bought two with a smile on your face. His face lit up as he handed you two ice creams.

The two of you started walking out of the park while eating your now wet and melting ice cream.

Nothing could change this happy moment. By the time you both finished your ice creams you just got back to the bookshop and went next door to your small apartment.

You gave her a towel and a change of dry clothes as you got dressed yourself. You made a bag of popcorn and put blankets on the couch, making it as cozy as possible.

When she got back you let her pick a movie as the two of you cuddled on the couch. "Let's do this again soon.." you say with a grin on your face. "How about Friday? I'll plan it this time." She responds playfully.