#like i think things starting off so well is a good omen but w how things r going i don't want to get my hopes up lol 😔

[roscoehamiltons]

just want to say that the vibes and content for the first day of the brazil gp weekend have been immaculate and i want to savour it while it lasts

[most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer]

Good Omens: Lockdown and Crowley not mentioning his living situation in S2*

*till S2E6 when he asks if he can have his apartment back bc he's bored of living in his car but Aziraphale doesn’t hear bc mentally he’s in Alpha Centauri.

Having read the 'Crowley doesn't tell him' Neil Gaiman ask close to when I first listened to Lockdown (I lived under a rock until recently), my initial thought was HAS HE BEEN LIVING IN HIS CAR FOR YEARS?! but I think he was still in his apartment in 2020:

as far as Hell knows, Crowley just had a pool party in holy water (the holiest) so the higher-ups are probably willing to give him some space (plus Beelzebub is busy going on pub dates w Gabriel)

while there should be ~8 months between the end of Season 1 events (The Very First Day of the Rest of Their Lives on Sunday, Aug 25, 2019) and the Lockdown phonecall (on or near the 30 year anniversary on May 1, 2020), I can't imagine that's a very long time for Hell, especially if you're understaffed and busy dealing with fallout from Almostgeddon / going on pub dates

Shax dropping off mail and asking about the boiler seems like something one does in the first few months of living somewhere, not ~3 years in (if S2 is in 2023)

That said, I think the phone call underlines why Crowley never directly tells Aziraphale that he is living in the Bentley in S2, and it's just a great conversation (all hail Gaiman) sooo I wrote about it:

***Note: This post analyzes the Lockdown phonecall from Crowley's perspective only. Our heroine is feeling quite emotionally vulnerable at this point in time so things are going to hit him harder than they normally would.

I do not think Aziraphale meant to cause him pain (!!) but Crowley can't see that yet and I've written this post in a way that reflects that missing insight. (I explain in more detail in this reblog if you are interested) I am working on a companion post for Aziraphale's side of this conversation and how I think it affects his behavior in S2 because if we know anything about these two, it's that their exactlys are different exactlys.***

Crowley’s habit of sleeping to skip time like an RPG character by a campfire amuses me to no end, but in this context it feels heavy. Crowley already worries about losing time with what he loves and he probably hoped things would be different between him and Aziraphale after the events of S1. But things don’t change much. Then lockdowns start, and Crowley is trapped in his apartment alone, transcendentally bored, and unable to make his brain shut up. Sleeping a month away starts to sound less awful.

But Crowley hasn’t given up yet; he’s still awake when Aziraphale calls, and he’s even giving it two more days. Was he waiting for Aziraphale to call? Is it even possible not to at least kind of wait for someone’s call when you are cut off from everything and the caller has been your only friend and crush for millennia?

Aziraphale asks why Crowley isn't "out and about" tempting people or setting a bad example and he responds:

C: Everyone's so miserable and cooped up right now anyway, and I just… well… don't have the heart for it. A: *glowing audibly* I'm not miserable~ C: Really?

Crowley sounds genuinely surprised at Aziraphale's happiness and quickly assumes it's because the angel has been around people. He's so lonely/depressed/in his own head that he hadn't even considered someone enjoying being 'cooped up'. *sob*

Aziraphale goes No actually I put the closed sign up in the window and I'm having the Time of My Life, never had so few customers, not in 200 years!, etc. Although, he says:

A: …There were a few young lads a couple of nights ago who broke in through the back and tried to steal the cashbox! But they soon saw the error of their ways~ C: *clearly amused* Did you smite them with your wroth? A: Well I certainly gave them a good talking to, and I sent each of them home with cake~ C: *annoyed, swooning* Cake? A: Quite a lot of cake, actually. C: *physically ill from having such a giant crush on this dumbass baker/security guard* eeeekkkgghhh I'm gonna regret asking but.. ...rrgh.. *30 seconds of Aziraphale joyfully describing his baking while Crowley probably tries very hard not to imagine the angel eating each item in sensual slow motion* I stg you can hear him struggling in the background once or twice

A: …And once I've baked them, I have to eat them all myself, which was why I was so delighted— C: To send your burglars home laden with baked goods, yes, nnyeaayeah I follow…

Crowley interrupts, finishing Aziraphale's sentence in his nervous hurry to say the next bit:

C: *loud inhale* You know, I could.. hunker down at your place. … Slither over and watch you eat cake. I could bring a bottle--a case of… something… drinkable…?

He's trying to sound so casual about it but this is someone who was rejected/abandoned by actual literal God after asking what he thought were welcome, uncontroversial questions. Asking makes him vulnerable. He's supposed to be the rescuer, not a demon in distress. He does not feel casual about asking.

Crowley knows it's unlikely but he's so miserable and desperate for company that he can't help but ask, just in case. Even the smallest chance of spending time trapped indoors with Aziraphale—with nothing to do but drink, watch him eat, and talk about things they'd normally avoid—is too tempting.

A: *panicking* Oh I— I— I— I— I'm afraid that would be Breaking All The Rules! *nervous breathing* Out of the question! I'll see you… when this is over. C: Right. gnnehh. I'm setting the alarm clock for July. Good night, angel. *dial tone*

And just like that, Crowley doesn't need two days to decide. The depression nap doubles in length. He doesn't hear how badly Aziraphale wants to say yes behind the fear, or maybe he does and it hurts worse because why isn't Crowley enough for him? You can almost hear the spiralling:

SHOCKING, asking made it worse. It always does doesn’t it? Why even bother? you just embarrass yourself.. SLITHER over? why did I say that *grumble grumble* of COURSE His Holy Holiness, your only friend in the universe, would rather eat cake by himself while everything goes to shit than ~deign~ to have you in his presence. "AsK aND yE sHaLl ReCeIvE" bugger this for a lark im going to bed

(a bit dramatic but we've all been there)

I imagine sleep doesn't come right away. Maybe his thoughts drift to when he sat beside the angel at a dark Tadfield bus stop after a rather eventful Saturday. Crowley must've felt a tiny bit hopeful when he invited Aziraphale to stay with him: Heaven had withdrawn its favor and the bookshop was gone; Aziraphale was like him now. Didn't that mean things would change?

"I don't think my side would like that." Apparently not.

In the end, Aziraphale did ride the bus back to Crowley's apartment and stayed till the next morning when he caught a cab, but only to sell the illusion. Crowley understood that as far as sides went, the angel was still on Heaven's, even if Heaven wasn't on his.

And now this: the entire world is shut down; there is nothing for Aziraphale to do but stay in and read and bake in his magically reconstituted bookshop and he still won't invite Crowley in. Burglars and un-fallen angels only—nobody who asks questions.

So... of course Crowley doesn't tell Aziraphale when he loses his apartment. He already knows what answer he would get; the angel has told him so many times. Aziraphale is a company man first, a companion to one very sad owl when convenient.

If Crowley works up the courage to say 'please take me in, I have nowhere else to go' and Aziraphale goes 'sorry, no, far too political, but I WILL risk being erased from the Book of Life to protect this nude amnesiac former coworker who always hated me,' it's going to be too much. You can't sleep long enough for that type of hurt to go away. Better not to say anything.

"Then nothing has to change, does it?"

[wanderstarr]

𝐀 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐏𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬 : 𝐈 ‧₊˚✩彡

wanderer x gn! reader

[[ prologue || ao3 || next ]]

'A HYPERSPECIFIC CASE ANALYSIS ON INTERSPECIES RELATIONSHIPS AND THEIR INHERENT INCOMPATIBILITY : A GROUNDED THEORY STUDY'

The Wanderer tapped his pen against the table. The title was very persuasive in its own right, if he did say so himself. Still, he would need convincing points to support his claim. Curse the Vahumana pricks for drilling this damn process into his head. He starts to map out his arguments in inky script.

His hands practically glide across the piece of paper, leaving neatly scrawled loops in its wake.

A list of reasons to deny his wavering inhibitions.

1. You were a puppeteer. 

That in itself should have been an omen, given the nature of his existence. How foolish would it be of him, to be abandoned by a creator of puppets twice? To be fair, he didn't quite know this little fact about you until the second time he met you.

The Zubayr Theatre. Scholar he may be, but the allure of a stage had always caught his eye, even when his memories were incomplete. He did have a penchant for theatrical names, after all, in his past incarnations. Still, he never took the initiative to go near of his own volition. As often as he visited the Grand Bazaar, he usually stayed a good distance away from that corner of the market.

He finds himself hovering from a distance, again, when he spots a familiar face in the crowd. You, waddling in front of the Zubayr stage with a comically tall stack of fabric in your arms blocking your view.

In any other case, he would have minded his own business. Hah, he should have minded his own business, even in this case. But his legs seemed to move faster than his mind could process it, and next thing he knew he was by your side, swiping a good chunk of the fabric from your grasp so you could actually see.

"Wh-HEY!.." you whip around at him, and he catches a glimpse of your vision aglow as bright as your glare, but it fades away when you look at him. "You!"

"Me." he says in reply. He casually rearranges the fabric he'd grabbed into a neater pile.

You look at him funny, and your confusion melts into a warm smile. You seem to do that often, shaking off confusion like the morning dew rolls off a leaf. 

You laugh quietly, nudging him in his ribs. "Aren't you such a gentleman, always helping me out?"

He scoffs, turning his face away from you. "Not my fault you're always in need of help when I'm around. I'm not an asshole, you know."

"Could've fooled me, Hat Guy."

He cringes. "..who told you that name?"

You laugh again, gleefully. "Didn't know you were so popular around here. Y'know, outside of the whole Archon's Right Hand Man you got going for you."

"I'm just making the most of what I'm capable of." he huffs. "If people find it such an interesting topic, then that's their problem."

"It's admirable." you grin. "You're amazing."

His knees almost shake for just a split second. He coughs awkwardly, and hides behind the shade of his hat.

"Flattery won't get you any extra favours." he says, and starts to walk.

You chase after him, and fall into step by his side. "Oh? But you're doing me a favour now. Checkmate."

"I won't hesitate to drop all this back onto you."

He wouldn't, he thinks.

"You wouldn't," you laugh.

Damn it.

He asks you a question in lieu of a reply. "In any case, isn't it unfair that you get to know my name?"

A roundabout way to ask for yours.

"Hm, is it?" you glance at him cheekily. "But I think I earned that knowledge fair and square, after all the asking around I did."

His brows furrowed in thought, and he felt a tug in the corner of his lips. "You asked about me?"

This time, you're the one whose footsteps stutter, looking at anywhere but him. Part of him takes glee in knowing he could have the same affect on you as you did on him.

"W-well," you clear your throat, "I was just.. you could call it getting to know my new home. Yeah, that!"

He would tease you more, but his greedy mind grabbed at the chance of learning something about you. "New? You're not from around here?"

"I've travelled around so much I can barely remember where I'm from," you shrugged. "But yeah, I'm finally settling down here."

"I see."

"Yeah." you nod. "I met Enteka last night, and when I helped her out with that psycho guy, she offered to introduce me to Nilou."

A lot of thoughts race through his mind as you talk. For one, he's a bit bemused at the notion that you would be so invested in helping a woman you just met the night before. He had assumed you were lifelong friends, the way you defended the acting manager that day. On the other hand, it did seem like something you would do, from what he's gathered of you. But more importantly..

"Nilou?"

"Yeah! I got myself a job here thanks to her. Apparently, Nilou mentioned to Enteka that the theatre needed more people around, so here I am!"

 "Oh? And what do you do, then?" he tilts his head. "Besides flailing around blindly and carrying things like an idiot?"

"Hey!" you punch his shoulder lightly. "I'll have you know I'm very skilled at craftsmanship!"

"Really?" he drawls.

"Yeah really! I'm like, super popular. All the rage."

"It's weird that I've never heard of you then."

"What, you've never heard of the amazing–" 

From the top of the Zubayr stage, a middle aged woman yells out a name, cutting you off. You whip around to look at her. Huh, that's one way to learn what you're called, he supposes.

"Rekhar!" you call back. "Need something?"

"Yeah, would you mind bringing the materials up here instead?"

"Sure thing!"

"You're a dear, thanks!" the elderly woman smiles, and retreats towards the back of the stage.

The Wanderer nudges your foot with his own, and says your name. It tumbles from his lips easily, naturally. He quite enjoys the way it sounds, he thinks.

You chuckle. "Guess I've been exposed."

"Like you could've kept it hidden."

"I could have!"

"With how much you talk? I doubt it."

"I guess that's true; it can't be helped," you sigh dramatically. "I do like talking to you."

"To me, or just in general?"

"In general too." you flash a wicked grin. "But mostly, you're just fun to be around."

That's.. certainly new. To be fair, you had incredibly odd taste in company.

You both reach the stage, and set down the bundles in your arms on a nearby table. Rekhar beams her thanks, and sweeps the fabric off to who knows where. 

"I hear she's working on a new prop mechanic for the next show." you comment.

"You're not helping? I thought you were a craftsman."

"Me?" you laugh. "Oh, I'm not as well versed in prop engineering. My specialty lies more in puppetry." 

His chest drops to a jolt, and he feels his throat run dry. "Puppets."

"Yeah!" You don't seem to notice the change in his tone. "I could show them to you, sometime."

"No thanks." he backs away abruptly, movement stiff. You look worried for him. He looks away from you.

"Are you okay?"

"I got something else to do," he says. You both knew it was a lie. "And you don't need my help anymore."

You don't need a puppet like me.

You reach out to him. He flinches away.

"..okay." you clasp your hands together, hold them close to your chest. "I'll see you around."

He leaves you standing alone without an answer.

©wanderstarr..!!

me: haha yeah this is gonna be fluff/humour yk

also me:

[m-y-fandoms]

COMMISSION: Nagito Komaeda Dating Head-Canons + Small Drabble Sections

Word Count: 1.7K Words

Details: SFW requested and pretty gender-neutral. Established relationship, not just a crush or pining.

Path 1 - Despair/Island Killing Game:

Nagito definitely holds your hand or clings to you as you explore the island from the jump. If the Killing Game hasn’t started yet, he tries to make excuses for his neediness and desire to be attached at the hip. He senses the danger, that things are a little too peaceful, but he doesn’t want to weird you or anyone else out or spread a panic quite yet. Once it’s been announced and Monokuma arrives, he insists on escorting you to lunch and breakfast, on poison-testing your food. He cares very little for his own safety.

Definitely stalks you around the island and keeps to the shadows if you mention wanting space or insist you will be safe on your own every once in a while.

The illusion of choice would be a huge issue with him in the Killing Game setting with an S/O. It may not be healthy, but even when you think he’s out of sight or not plotting any crazy schemes/ideas,, rest assured he is already two steps ahead. He would do anything to make sure his bad luck cycle affects anyone but you and works over time, sometimes into the early hours of the morning to try and find Monokuma’s creator and the “traitor” that is surely among you all.

He insists on sleeping in your cabin or you in his. He feels better in yours, though, convinced his terrible energy and the dangerous aura that follows him around like a shadow has probably sunk into every corner of his own domicile. Anywhere he can call his own surely has to be haunted with misery and blackened with terrible omens of what’s to come. He feels at peace when he enters your safe space: your cabin decked out with items that are personalized to your talents and hobbies. He feels less alone, less burdened by the energy that surrounds himself.

When you blush and explain to him that it may not be appropriate for him to stay the night in your cabin, he brushes it off. He’s not even thinking about that kind of stuff, about the implications of a student sleeping over at their lover’s cabin. He wouldn’t even see himself as worthy enough to be more intimate with you in the first place. When he would hold your hand or cling to you like a human shield it was always for your good, not his own pleasure or to sate his own touch starvation.

“W-what do you mean?” Your face flooded with a warmth when he first suggested (more like insisted on) it. Your cheeks felt hot to the touch.

“Huh? Why do you look so flustered right now? It’s no big deal, really!” He displayed a crooked, paranoid grin. It was only your third night on the island and he’d already reached his limit. Watching you go into your room alone every night was stressful and tore away at him. How could he protect you if someone snuck in from the opposite side window, or if he couldn’t hear an altercation through the walls? The distance and limited time for reaction were just too risky.

“Nagito… I mean… you don’t think the others will, I don’t know, maybe judge us?” You put a hand to your face in contemplation, unable to meet his eyes. “Maybe they will think it’s weird… or that something inappropriate is going on here… usually two students aren’t allowed to spend the night together… if this were a regular school-“

“Oh well if that’s your concern, I can sleep on the ground! I was going to suggest laying in the bed with you, but that may have been presumptuous of me! If you’re uncomfortable-”

“I think you’re missing the point!” You cut him off, heart beating wildly at the thought of your boyfriend just crawling into bed with you every night. You’d never done more then hold hands, now he wanted to snuggle up in the dark wearing nothing but your bedclothes? It was a huge step. You feared the judgmental smirks of people like Hiyoko, the lectures on proper behavior from your more uptight classmates. People would whisper for sure. Some would confront you and want the details. Nagito was the black sheep of the group after all. Nobody was as close to him as you. You could already hear Ibuki and Akane teasing you, making up crazy scenarios of what they thought happened when you and Nagito spent the night together.

“O-oh, if you’re that worried about what our peers would think, I can understand! I would be embarrassed to be dating someone like me as well, but I will make sure they know nothing unbefitting of a ray of Hope like you happened! I’m just here to keep watch. I wouldn’t dream of trying anything!” He flashed a cheesy smile, holding his hands up in submission. It seemed like he wasn’t going to take no for an answer this time. You sighed deeply in resignation. He already stands outside the bathroom when you shower, so this wasn’t really that much further of a stretch.

He spends hours thinking about how he wants to kiss you, how he wants to touch your bare skin to his, even in the most ticklish or innocent of ways. He lets his mind stew over it, fantasizes, but never acts on his desires. He believes his filthy hands - cursed with bringing harm to others in order to bring luck to himself - could never defile your perfect skin, never dirty your soft hair. Even to ask for your consent to do so would be pathetic, embarrassing. Someone like him lived to serve, please and protect a glowing source of Hope such as yourself. This was bigger then him. You needed to survive, to bring change and Hope to the entire world.

If one day by some miracle you asked, begged him to touch you, to give you more the a vice-like hand-holding session, he could never deny you that request. The last of his restraint would break. His hands would shake, afraid to mess it up, to upset you. His mind would race. Even a small kiss would set his pale, clammy skin on fire.

It would set into motion another hyper-fixation, an addiction… obsession. He would know what true Hope tasted like when your lips touched his.

Nagito is definitely the type to kill others for the sake of his S/O. In canon, he offers to help the blackened, sets up traps and tricks to get people caught or assists in trials, but if he had someone to truly love him and love in return, I think it would set his crazy into overdrive. I would expect he would actually get a bit sloppier, too focused on your safety and happiness above all else that he doesn’t even care if he gets caught or slips up. It’s kind of like how some people in powerful positions or criminal organizations don’t want their family known or easily accessible. That’s an easy hostage, easy leverage. You have something to lose, and therefore you are weaker.

Path 2 - Hope’s Peak Academy School Life/Normal Non-Despair:

Nagito is constantly staring at you, taking in your beauty and radiance. He’s obsessive, constantly adjusting the buttons on your uniform or fixing a pleat that is out of place. He doesn’t even notice when his own tie or collar are loose.

He offers to do your laundry, fold your clothes, clean your dorm. Little favors that make your life easier feel like an honor to him.

When he does your laundry, he dives his nose into your dirty outfits and breathes deeply of your scent. He can’t help himself. Your aroma is like a natural pheromone to him. He will feel guilty, disgusting as he tucks a sock or pair of underwear into his backpack or pocket. He swears to himself he will return it to you… someday, once it’s lost its potency.

There’s a shrine of sorts to you in his own dorm room, which he never lets you enter. He always has an excuse: it’s dirty, it smells in there, he doesn’t want anyone seeing you enter such a lowlife’s room. He fears that if you see the extent of his love for you, his unhealthy obsession, that you’ll be scared away.

The shrine consists of strands of your hair, things he’s swiped from your dorm room without you noticing, photos of you printed out and framed (some photos, he was even blessed enough to be in with you!)

He plans at least one date night every single week. As soon as classes are over he spares no expense on taking you out and letting you pick whatever activity you’re in the mood for. He’s just happy to be there.

He dismisses your worries about him spending money on you, reassuring you every time that he has more money then he knows what to do with.

He’s of course made sure his class schedule lines up with yours perfectly. You think it’s just a coincidence that you get to spend so much time together! You knew he purposely picked some of the same elective classes, but didn’t realize the extent of his influence over his own class schedule.

He sometimes gets a little jealous of your classmates spending time with you, but lets those feelings be released in private. He doesn’t want to scare you away or ruin the privilege of being with you. He knows others deserve to bask in your brilliance and overwhelming energy too, knows that he can’t expect to hoard such a glowing Hope all to himself, but it bites at him. Of course everyone else wants you too. He’s delusional about your importance in the vast universe because he’s totally blinded by love. He will misinterpret someone letting you borrow a pencil as flirting or being partners in gym class as something more. He lets this manifest as sadness or trying harder to please you. He may sabotage the “competition” sometimes, but never let you catch on to his meddling.

He could listen to you talk about your hobbies and interests forever. He wants you to show him how to do it, tell him all the backstory, lore, origins of your hyper-fixations or passions. Spending nights on your dorm room floor listening to your favorite musical artists and just eating ramen would mean the world to him.

[n--n]

One last touchstarved theory thingy bc I’ve almost purged my brief obsession!! It’s mentioned by both Leander and Vere that the one running the Senobium- and thus its shady policies- is someone called The Abbess. An Abbess is a nun in charge of the nunnery, so I can only assume she is gonna have some sort of religious symbolism related to her like Kuras and Mhin do. Unfortunately the literal one-sentence blink and you’ll miss it lines are all we have to go off for her, but I’m excited to see what she’s really like in game! (From the attitude both Vere and Leander have in those one-off lines, it’s clear she’s almost certainly a villain).

Some misc, tinfoil-hat theories:

- Elyon, as a powerful noble, likely works with but opposes the Abbess. He owns most of the brothels in Lowtown apparently so he has incentive to keep the divide between hightown and lowtown, but as someone with power he probably chafes at the control the Senobium has over hightown

- Sen, from her one-sentence descriptor, is a revived warden seeking her own death. Almost certainly one of the Senobium’s experiments, not sure what a warden in the context of the touchstarved universe is but probably a Fancy Jailer for the Senobium like the word usually implies. Maybe the experiments left her with such a painful condition she’d rather die? Or it could be more supernatural, in that she can not Rest until her unfinished business in Eridia is Taken Care Of.

-The Abbess could be the one that initiated the changes at the Senobium in the first place a generation ago, since immortality is confirmed to exist in-universe (see Vere being chained “Centuries Ago”)

-I think Leander is meant as the sort of “starter LI”, since the demo and supplementary info give us the most info about him while at the same time holding back just enough as to be intriguing (see: the countless Leander-specific theory posts that started this post lmao) I imagine his route will tell us the most about lowtown, fogfall and Eridia at large, whereas Vere/Mhin/Kuras will tell us most about the Senobium, and Ais will tell us most about the overall world, magic (fogfall again), monsters (like the soulless), and of course Ais’s boss/“friend” Ocudeus and the Seaspring

Other thots:

- I’m most excited for Leander’s route for obvious reasons (hot + will get to meat of story + I want to see What’s Really Wrong With Him so bad) but also know that will make me more disappointed if he turns out to be Just Some Asshole. I want him to be a monster bc he commits atrocities like the rest of them, not because he’s a reminder of the shittier guys I’ve met. That being said I know I’ll probably still really like the character if they do go that route, since the overall writing from the demo is super engaging and solid in quality- which bodes well for the final product

-Speaking of writing, I’m loving that different backstories actually have weight in the narrative. I love when the player is actually rewarded with info for making a choice, instead of it just being one or two flavor text things. Choosing different backstories affects your red dialogue options (the romance-y choices) and gives you different attitudes towards events in the story, making replay ability high

-I’m worried by how successful the kickstarter is since I Have Been Burned last times I backed videogame Kickstarters (Blue Omen Operation, Homestuck Game) 😭 The team seems experienced and competent, since most seem to have come from Nix Hydra/other successful otome games that got killed by poor management. But like, still really worries me since it’s their first game and all. The demo was so good but so was Blue Omen Operations and look where that landed me ($15 less in my pocket from backing years ago 🥲)

-On a lighter note, this game is clearly a passion project and I’ve loved what I’ve seen so far- if I have enough money to spare before the Kickstarter is over, maybe I’ll get it just to support the devs

-getting so obsessed w the demo even if only for a week or so has reminded me Oh Yeah, I Forgot I Love Gothic Horror. If by some miracle you’re still reading this drop a recommendation pls

[phantomram-b00]

To Hell with you

So, I was listening to songs. And then an epiphany hit me hit me harder than this fixation of the show; what if…the roles were reversed? Like what if Azirapahle first said no to the promotion yet Crowley said yes instead? I think I saw a fanfic that did this (I don’t remember) but I wanted to take a crack at this, and I feel like I want to cry myself so imma do a fanfic of it, hope you enjoy. And if you still haven’t seen good omens season too, this will contain that so uh spoiler warning ahead. Have fun!

Aziraphale was just done talking with Nina and Maggie just a while ago whilst Crowley walk away; while profusely apologizing for the whole ordeal both for last night and overall, they did give him advice on his love life. Something he never thought he could describe it given their status from their opposing side, but he’ve been in love with Crowley since 1941, so the label wasn’t exactly far off. But nothing official, and thanks to their advice, he though maybe they can? Why not? To hell with both parties that been trying to separate them for millennia now they’re on their own side.

“Right! Let me at least tidy this up before he comes” he spoke to himself while he put some books in their respective spots as well covered the symbol on the floor and make sure nothing was out of the ordinary. Oh ironic given their day to day life on earth. As he does so, he start preparing for the talk as he turn the sign on the front to “very closed”

“Okay, so Crowley!” He chuckled as he talks to himself yet again. “There something I must tell you about, I think it been long overdue for the past 6000 years at this point. And I know I’ve told you you go to fast but-“

He shook his head throwing away that thought like a piece of crumbled paper. That won’t do at all.

“Crowley! Wily serpent! I believe there are thing to be discussed about if that all the same to you…” he said as he put the Jane Austen book in order since Gabriel- err Jim decided to put them away separate by the first sentence they start it. Oh how problematic that organization was it nearly discorperated him the second time. “So we’ve known each other for quite a long time, at this point in time we can even guess each other sentences or predict other moves like Agnes Nutter.” He laughs. “W-well, what I’ve been meaning to say is, w-well, remember when I told you you go to fast? Well, I think I want to retract that statement since I think we can go fast, faster than a rollercoaster as Buddy Holly said-“

He again shook his head, and threw that idea away. But he blushes just thinking about Crowley, how he does want them to make it happen finally, been waiting since 1941 or maybe even longer; his mind begin to wonder around, become a habit for him at this point. He began to think about their life, all the time they’ve been together. Always a risk to be together but deep down, Aziraphale would take that risk all day to see Crowley, the one person that didn’t treat him like an annoyance or dare judge him but instead treated him like an equal, the one person that he would rather dine at the ritz and go on many restaurants with, the one person that he would maybe one day want to live with for all eternity. That feel more like heaven in his eyes than the actual place. In retrospect, he wished if it wasn’t for their side that maybe they could been more braver. Or at least he could’ve been. But he had a smile, maybe they can be now? And they can make up for lost time? And maybe one day, they can move into a cottage? Oh he can never be bored of living with him for all eternity. It make him more giddy just thinking about that possibility.

“Crowley!” He started again. “We need to talk, but I think maybe, this would be best suited if we go to St. James park? You’ve always love that place with the ducks. We can get frozen peas. And we can talk as we sit? Or if you prefer, we can dine at the ritz? I can feel an reservation was just open for two” he giggles while hugging the first edition Jane Erye by Charlotte Brontë. “Or maybe, we can talk here, and have drinks? I’ve got an expensive—“

Ding

Aziraphale look at the door and see Crowley back, couldn’t content his smile even if he tries.

“Crowley!” He said putting the book down and walking over to him.

“Angel” said giving him a smile back in return. He take off his glasses to reveal his Sunny eyes. “Listen angel, there something I need to talk to you about.”

“So do I!” He chuckled lovingly whilst look at his sun. “funny how two minds think alike, but I think first I would like to ask you if-“

“Hold that thought for just a moment angel,” Crowley said as aziraphale stopped his laughter. “Listen, Shax and I talked.”

“I’m quite aware, seen you guys had much to talk about despite what the stunt she pulled.” Aziraphale spoke. “Nearly started a war.”

“Right yeah, uh, so, during the talk, she granted me something. And, well, okay cutting to the chase here angel, she want me to be Duke of hell.”

“Oh.” He said taken aback. “Surely you said no didn’t you? I mean you always complained about how they’re the worst and not to mention that they even have a sign on not licking walls? Frankly you saying…”

He stop to look at Crowley face, reading it carefully like it was one of his books. Only this time he does not appreciate this sudden twist.

“Crowley please tell me…” he choked out. “Please..”

“Angel, maybe I can make this right. If I’m Duke of hell-“

“Oh Crowley” he look away running his finger through his white hair. He then lightly laugh. “Please tell me this is one of your devilish jokes you wily serpent!”

“Shax said…she said I can even bring you down to hell with me. We can make hell nicer, no, we can make hell a better. We can even maybe prevent whatever is happening—“

“Ohhhhhh! Crowley I thought you were better than this.” Aziraphale said choking back the tears. “You should be better than that Crowley!”

“Angel—“

“If I didn’t need heaven then it fairly certain that I don’t need hell neither!” He paced around trying to calm himself but avoiding his eyes. “You know Heaven told me to come back to them with a promotion to be supreme angel before this whole Gabriel and I said “no I will certainly not go back to you” and you shouldn’t neither.”

“Well of course you said no angel, heaven are a bunch of self-righteous arseholes and certainly no better than hell I’ll tell you that much.” Aziraphale face continues to be horrified. “But hell, I know hell isn’t the best neither but angel, if you’re by my side, we can make it better.”

“Crowley are you realizing that if hell ends life here on earth it be just as dead as if heaven ended it.” Azirapahle said this time he open the flood gates and tears are streaming down with his voice cracking. “Crowley… tell me you said no.”

Crowley tries his best to choke back his tears too. Seeing his angel distraught was the last thing to see. The last thing he ever wanted to do. He look away from aziraphale feeling his heart growing heavier the more this conversation prolongs.

“Crowley…?” Aziraphale said not even trying to wipe his golden tears away.

“Angel. Maybe I can make an actual difference. I can try to stop it.”

Aziraphale shook his head, he was too shocked yet to upset to form any form of a sentence. His glossy eyes was enough for Crowley to start his water works, he look away once more. Aziraphale turn around and let out a sigh.

“Right guess you got everything out then, it my turn to say my piece—“ despite this, Crowley waited patiently. “We’ve known one another for quite a long time. We’ve been on this planet more than the human that roam on earth. We can always rely on one another and we can or at least I had hoped we trusted each other. We’re on our own side as you said even four years ago at the ritz. To hear those words was more heavenly than what heaven could’ve ever offered to me.” He feel his heart growing heavier. “And I would love it if we—“ he stop again as he feel his tear roll down his cheeks once more. “Crowley, how is it that Beelzebub and Gabriel can go off to Alpha Centauri, the place you yourself have been dying to run off, then we could too right? Just the two of us.” Crowley wanted to smile, but he was too distraught himself to bring himself to do so. “You’ve always said, that we don’t need heaven or hell, they’re toxic Crowley! We can still run like you always said, we can even go to Alpha Centauri with them” Crowley shook his head repeatedly. “We can— what why are you saying what is it?” He said showing curiosity and concern.

“Angel then come with me. I can run it and you can be right by my side. We can make a different please.” Crowley said pleading now. He want to cup his hand on his face wiping away those golden tears, but even when he toke a step, aziraphale toke a step back shaking his head.

“You can’t leave—“ me. “You can’t leave this bookshop.”

Crowley would never want to leave him alone. He would do anything to stop time just to stay in this bookshop for all eternity with him, basking in their love they been so desperately trying to achieve. To listen to angel’s ramble of a book he know he read for the millionth time. To have quality time with him whether it just them drinking wine or even just them holding each other in their embrace while they listen to classical music to bebop as azirapahle would call his taste. But that not what he said did he?

“Oh Aziraphale..” Crowley said giving a sadden smile. “Nothing last forever.” He wanted to kick himself just for saying those fatal words. The words that finally push azirapahle over the edge as now he can’t hold back. He hold his hand in his face as he let it out, just for a moment. Even in that moment, Crowley want to hug him. But he stopped after a moment, as to try to revert back to his calm demeanor.

“No.” He said grabbing his glasses and giving it back to Crowley. “I suppose you’re right about that one.” Crowley look as he see the glasses. Trying to process what he was even doing. “I wish you the best of luck in your endeavors.”

He proceed to walk out of his own bookshop.

“Best of luck..” then it hits him. “Angel!” He doesn’t stop walking away. “Aziraphale come back!” Aziraphale turn around, he was completely drained. His angelic happiness is no where to be found in his hazel blue eyes. “Work with me.” He still pleads, even aziraphale let out a sigh as he continues. “To hell..we can be on our side even down there. Doing our own things down there.” Aziraphale wince from that sentence as he look away to avoid his eyes. “I-I need you aziraphale!” He finally said which prompted him to finally look at him. Both their watery eyes met. It felt like time stopped again. Maybe Crowley finally convinced him. Maybe they can be in their side even in hell. Maybe they could make things better. Him and Aziraphale against them—“you have to understand what I’m trying to offer here Angel..”

“Oh I think I know quiet well. Maybe even more than you can Crowley.” He said. But he realize it wasn’t his usual tone. He sounded apathetic. Is this really it? This shouldn’t be. Why does it feel…

“Well. If that the case, is there really anything else to say at this point?” Crowley said as he put on his glasses as his tears starts to appear yet again.

“Listen.” Aziraphale said pointing up. “Can you hear anything?”

“No. Angel what are you trying to…”

“That’s exactly my point. No nightingale.” He said, that was it for him. He feel he can’t hold it back any longer. “You stupid snake. We could have been us.” Aziraphale said emphasizing on the term us. Crowley looked away to let tears run, even closing his eyes to hope it be all over. But then he felt his lapel of his blazer being pull and the feeling of soft lips pressed again his own. His eyes shock open as he see aziraphale. Principality. Angel of the eastern gate. Kiss him. This wasn’t what he expected their first to be, not one where tears are mixing with each others. He wanted it to be more romantic, more on a happier note. One that both can enjoy. Not this. Not when his angel is obviously hurt. Oh Satan, what have he done. He lift his hands couple times but he was able to place his hand behind Aziraphale’s back and kiss back. He felt his head spin around like all the planets he created, can feel like he seeing stars he help create. And here he is, kissing the biggest star he’ve every laid his eyes on.

Soon they pull away from each other, Crowley having to catch his breath, not hiding his cries anymore. Aziraphale just stand there in hope, can this finally convince him? Crowley look at Azirapahle, many emotion can be battling each other, anger, lament, happiness, shocked? Maybe all above.

“I…I…” love you. Do it again. “TO HELL WITH YOU” he wanted to cover his mouth. Why did he let them escape. Where the soap when you need it. Aziraphale let out a silent gasp as golden tears escape him once more.

“I forgive you.” Aziraphale said walking out of the bookshop.

“Wait angel!”

He walks out of the bookshop, he almost push people down, forget for a moment that London can get busy. He look around to try to find him. “Aziraphale! Please, come back!”

No avail. He can’t find him anywhere, no white haired tartan wearing angel. He feel down to his knees.

“What have I done?” He said to himself. His scales emerged feeling intense emotions, he wanted to scream as he feel smoke coming out of him.

“Crowley?” He look up and see Shax. “Right, I take it he didn’t take it well.”

“What do you think?” Shax was gonna talk again before he stop her. He stands up “Right don’t answer that. Let just go.” He said drained. Feeling empty. Betrayed.

“Jolly good. Now I will say, I’ve heard word from upstairs.” Shax said as they walk, Crowley look at her but not in interest but he had to know.

“And what do the holier than thou angel say?”

“Well. Something about ahhh. The second coming as they like to call it. We got a role in this too, so best get a move on” Shax chuckled as she walked as she talked more about this role. Crowley stopped. He turn around just for a moment and see Aziraphale, he was far away about to turn the corner. But he can easily see that he left enough room for him to come with him to walk, the finale plead. He can’t make out what his expression was but it didn’t matter, he look at him one last time. Before he start walking backward and turning back to Shax. Completely disappearing from the crowd. “You know. Pity your boyfriend didn’t come. Me and Furfur were betting on it, guess no matter. We got work to do.” He stopped listen as she went on. He wanted more than anything to just run back to him. He wished he didn’t take this. But part of him felt that maybe he can still try. If not fro earth, for aziraphale. To keep him safe as he try to stop this plan. To stop armageddon from happening once more. Even if that meant he can’t see Aziraphale ever again.

Meanwhile Aziraphale just nodded. Understand this was it. It truly was over. He saw Maggie and Nina walk away holding hands as if God was rubbing salt in his wound. He then see Muriel waving at him in glee. He would’ve wave back in mutual respect but not now. Not today. He just walked away leaving them feeling concern. Aziraphale walked, unsure where exactly he walking to but his feet keep moving so he might as well walk wherever his shattered heart take him. He then heard a radio from one of the stores singing the song. That song meant for them.

Snap

Just like that the song stopped. He continues to walk. Walk as far as he can. As golden tears fall once more.

(Reference for the golden tears and Sunny eyes)

[s-b-party]

Corvus: Fischl and the Raven

****This thread was written after having done Fischl's domain in the golden apple archipelago 2.0 event (I will use GAA for short from here on out), so genshin spoilers / golden apple archipelago spoilers / fischl domain spoilers ahead!

So first let's start off w/ introducing Fischl & her constellation, Corvus, which means "raven", pretty straight forward, yea? We know Fischl as one of the members of the adventurers' guild & as the Prinzessin der Verurteilung, ruler of the Immernachtreich

So how exactly are ravens relevant to Fischl aside from being her constellation? In terms of symbolism, ravens are often seen as ill omens but, w/o negative connotations, they can also be seen as symbols of PROPHECY and INSIGHT, two very important concepts related to Fischl

Fischl often speaks about "fate", which should be an automatic flag to look out for since it is one of the important concepts in the overall game. Prophecies are usually messages sent by another source or power regarding events that will happen in the future

If you need examples of her talking about fate, here are the Chinese voice-overs for Fischl, you'll find a bunch of lines regarding fate, but basically one of my points is that fate is an important theme for her & prophecies are very relevant to fate 

https://genshin-impact.fandom.com/wiki/Fischl/Voice-Overs/Chinese

Now for insight, I found out that Oz attests to Fischl's good intuition during Unreconciled Stars, which shows that she may sound crazy w/ her theories at times, but she actually has a point/makes sense, therefore Fischl's insight on a situation is not something to be ignored

Despite not knowing the exact cause of everyone’s troubles during the event, she was able to deduce that something inside the victims’ dreams was luring the dreamers in, forcing them to stay (it was revealed to be the will of Leonard, an adventurer from about 2,600 years prior to the story who had a strong desire to reach the summit of Pilos Peak, that caused the weird state of sleep)

I like to think that Fischl's insight/intuition seems to be a nod to how ravens irl are generally very intelligent creatures

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Common_raven#Intelligence

https://www.mentalfloss.com/article/53295/10-fascinating-facts-about-ravens

https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Common_Raven/overview

So clearly we can see that Fischl is well represented by the raven, I think that we can go even further to tie the connections/symbolism to Fischl's lore including her part in this most recent GAA event (version 2.8)

I want to point out that eyes & vision will be important in this portion of my analysis. There are two categories that I will distinguish: more literal and less literal meaning

First, the literal meaning that I refer to is the eye in a physical sense. An example would be Fischl's ability to see through Oz (whatever he sees, she can see), which we can find in her first character story explaining it as the reason why she is an important member of the adventurers' guild

In terms of Fischl’s connections to fate and prophecy, usually when one is given a vision, they would say that they see something in the future. Although you process the vision through your brain, you usually rely on the things that your eyes have seen irl to help interpret what you see

Her actual constellation also relates to eyes; when you look at the actual order of how her cons unlock, her C1 (first con) is located exactly at the eye of the raven and what is the name of it? GAZE of the Deep & if this name sounds familiar, that's bc it is mentioned again in GAA event; it is the same name given to the new mechanisms in Fischl's domain. How exactly do they work? It changes the way you SEE things so that the environment around you changes

We also see eyes as one of Fischl's defining features (well, lack of one eye) and the main thing that separates her from the other Fischl (Amy has a green eye while the other Fischl has a red eye)

The less literal meaning that I refer to is what eyes can mean symbolically in the lore or what concepts they bring up in the game. They can represent clairvoyance and omniscience, which tie in nicely w/ the concepts of prophecy and fate. Often times you may hear that eyes can act as windows to the soul. This is essentially what we go through inside Fischl's domain, a journey of her self-reflection & eventual self-acceptance

We know that Fischl does gain some omniscience when she is able to see what Oz sees wherever he may be, but there are also parts of her lore where the story her character is based on may have been written by an omniscient being or at least someone who seems to know a lot more than expected. We get hints that imply that the fictional story that Fischl bases her character & life on may be closer to reality than one would think.

Fischl is a character who is supposed to be from another world like the traveler, Amy makes it known that she is aware about the traveler being from another world while being in character as Fischl

Her favorite dish is named after a location which still exists in Mondstadt, the Midsummer Courtyard (located near Starsnatch Cliff) domain

The author of “Flowers for Princess Fischl,” Mr. Nine, makes an interesting comment about the Midsummer Courtyard being a concept that was never well-explored in the end; if you look at the description of the same domain, it explains that it has been lost to history after the fall of an ancient civilization, which would explain why not much about it is known and why he says it's not a well-explored concept

The previous examples may seem like mere coincidences, but we should also consider another story written by Mr. Nine called “Legend of the Shattered Halberd”

In the first volume, there is a story that talks about the Ominous Swords, which came from a meteorite that fell from the sky and a swordsmith named Feng cast these swords which were believed to be cursed bc of the meteorite. As a result, people’s intellect were negatively affected. Does this sound familiar? It is a story that resembles the plot of the Unreconciled Stars event!

In the sixth volume, we get a section talking about the God King creating the Prinzessin der Verurteilung as the final Divine Halberd and somewhere along the description, there is a reference to the first Divine Halberd called Irmin. Some may argue that just because Irmin’s name strongly resembles Irminsul, it doesn’t mean that there’s an actual connection. For me, I feel that it is too close to just be a coincidence. On top of that, the description of what it/he(?) did resembles the Irminsul tree in the game reaching out to many locations throughout the seven nations of Teyvat

At the moment, these instances show me that the author knows a lot and draws references to things that not many people would know about. I suppose someone could say that Mr. Nine clearly did his homework or something like that, but even if Mr. Nine is not actually omniscient or is simply truly just making up stories that coincidentally resemble events that actually happened, I still think he’s an important figure to note!

(*I may have also wanted to entertain the idea of a possible omniscient person for a little bit, just mostly speculation here and not that much hard evidence of it on my side, so no need to consider the last few points about Mr. Nine as serious thoughts ehe)

After playing the most recent updates, I can't help but wonder if there are any truly omniscient characters. Aside from the Traveler, how many others are aware of all the changes to Irminsul and the history of Teyvat? Does the mysterious voice that appears at the end of Inversion of Genesis know about all the changes that have developed? Did the other Descenders experience something similar to the Traveler? I'm very excited to see more developments on this!

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Otoya so puntable fr I wanna throw him across a field

For the sake of easier reading I will leave my hollyhock comments at the end of this ask so it’s not smack in the middle of us rambling LMAOO

I really need to see Karasu at an aquarium now (someone get me the P.O. Box of the BLLK author I need to send a lengthy request pls next off day GO TO AN AQUARIUM) on that not HOKYBCRAP I just remembered Osaka is famous for its aquarium because they have a whale shark?????? Imagine bro goes there and is scared SHITLESS like whale shark literally in the vicinity of his neighborhood that is so funny to me (I can imagine he eats takoyaki as revenge on octopuses)

And MEE idk what I’m gonna do when BLLK is over….well we fs have another big match arc with the World Cup that they’re currently waiting to play for…I’ve seen some ppl theorize that they might do a time skip thing like haikyuu where we see them going pro and whatnot but bro I do not want to think about BLLK ending like wdym I won’t see my silly little boys anymore….hopefully when that time comes it’ll give way for a lot of spinoff stories like I’d love to see more things like epinagi but for other characters (I’m coping but I really wanna see the light novel content animated or something)

Haha…discord and Reddit…such lovely places…..yeah I stay away from discord for similar reasons LMAO

Oh wait you’re so right….bruh I see those booktok accounts every so often and I’m like…how did you even get past the title for this book….have you seen people talking about like the pillow book or the door book??? I wanna know who actually thinks of that plot bc PLEASE it’s so wp coded like wtaf im sorry

Also I wanna know why Ao3 is BARREN when it comes to BLLK content that isn’t ship stories like….every so often I’ll take a look and the search results have barely changed within like six months man

Ok but HOLLYHOCK COMMENTARY SENGOKU PERIOD AU>>>> LMAOO so this is what you were referring to when you posted about finding a side character to make the villain…bye hiiragi LMFAOO ok assassin Otoya SO REAL when yuki showed up I was almost expecting it to be Otoya but this makes sm more sense LMAOO (yuki always committing some sort of crime in your plots it’s so funny) I’m living for it though…..y/n sacrificing her half brother to live FINALLY I love a good mc with a sense of self preservation that overrides any duty to a shitty family…also the cursed/bad omen child trope too perfect set up for angst I’m excited to see where it goes

-Karasu anon

I’M SAYINGGG BRO I JUST WANT TO TOSS HIM AROUND LIKE A LITTLE FOOTBALL 😭 meanwhile baby karasu i want to tie a ribbon around he’s just a little boy full of joy and whimsy i love him

PLEASE OMG WHEN HE’S A KID HIS PARENTS TAKE HIM TO THE AQUARIUM AND HE STARTS BAWLING 😓 that whale shark is his biggest enemy fr…omg a post nel aquarium trip would be so fun esp because we have karasu kurona and bachira who would def all go crazy for it (in diff ways). karasu loving seafood because it’s a way for him to control marine life/the water which he hates because he can’t predict ⁉️ could be funny could be meta the choice is yours 👆🏻

oh 100% they’re def going to do the wc arc and possibly even show some of the boys going pro…i do hope there’s a timeskip at the end because i want to see what they’re all up to but at the same time i also love open endings so if they didn’t do that i wouldn’t mind!! as long as the ending is satisfactory. imagine the conclusion is just ego and anri going to jail though HDKDJDS pls 😭 once it’s over i’m going to be so sad…luckily w the rate episode nagi is going we’ll at least have that for a while longer!!

discord and reddit are certainly. well. they are places!! and i am blessed to say idk what you’re talking about but w the amount of weird smut i see on there i shudder to imagine what you’re talking about. personally i’m pro-dark content even though i don’t read a lot of it myself because i believe all art and expression is worthy but it’s the way that some of these people engage with and react to dc that’s a little odd to me. idk it’s weird for sure…me personally i stay far away!!

THERE IS NOTHING ON AO3 FOR BLLK except for nagireo fics lowkey 😭😭😭 hopefully with season 2 coming out it’ll get more popular and we’ll see more content!! i’d never say no to more reader inserts but also character studies?? ONE fic exploring anri or ego or the itoshi brothers without any romance?? a michael kaiser-centric fic that portrays him as who he actually is (at least in my opinion)?? i’d write it myself but there’s only so much one girl can do 😔

bro hiiragi is even more random than kira PLSS i almost reused kira but then i was like “no i can’t slander the same character twice.” honestly though he has a very historical vibe to him if that makes sense?? and the name hiiragi is so clan-like HAHA idk idk it just felt right.

i feel like arranged marriages are so commonly paired w historical aus i wanted to do smth diff!! plus otoya does not scream arranged marriage to me. i was talking to one of my moots and i joked abt how the ninja butt trap panel broke my writer’s block but that’s actually not a joke…the whole ninja obsession otoya has (plus him canonically being descended from a ninja??) made me think “okay what if he WAS a ninja???” and from there i began looking into ninjas…and it was wraps after that!! apparently they were most prominent in the sengoku era and basically used as spies/assassins hence the setting and otoya’s introduction in the story

PLEASE yuki is the biggest tabieita x reader hater 😭 he does not want those boys winning ong 😕 he’s going to be really interesting in the future of the fic hehe i’m so excited!!

oh one thing about me you can trust i will be writing a flawed selfish reader 🫡 this mc is based loosely and vaguely on oda nobunaga actually!! emphasizing the ‘loosely’ part because the resemblance is barely there honestly unless you look really hard for it — however that should give you an idea of what kind of person she’s going to grow into (with otoya and [redacted]’s help ofc).

AHH the question is is she actually cursed or are the hiiragis just biased 🤔 hehe i can’t wait to write more too omg the only thing i’m worried for is when karasu finally pulls up because wdym the loml is in a fic and he’s not madly in love w the mc???

[notesof-mh]

AHHHH JACKIE THIS WAS SO GOODDDDDD. your writing is unparalleled. and i cant believe wrote 9.3k words?? for me?? in a month?? truly insane <3 and im so sorry this took me so long, ive been busy and also wanted to savor my first read of it

also i feel like i have too many thought to just put them in the tags so im j dumping them here, i hope thats ok

It starts, as it always does with this particular collection of friends, with shenanigans and cahoots. 

honestly i truly love this intro. it gives this fic the feeling that this is just one of many different events the characters experience, like a single episode in a sitcom.

also w wonwoo in the first part i love how nonreactive he is?? like yes the message is anonymous but soonyoung and jun are just telling some stranger abt his love life? and also called him a “huge awkward loser”? but he just seems so resigned lol

“No, this will be good,” Junhui says, plopping down on the edge of Wonwoo’s bed. “Minghao told me that whoever runs the advice column in the school paper is, like, a love guru

also i truly believe that jun and minghao masterminded this whole thing trying to tell y/n that wonwoo was in love w her. and also i think there is too much evidence for this to not have been your intention. truly so tragic then that y/n is dumb and missed all the signs and that soonyoung somehow accidentally finally caused y/n and wonwoo to get together.

bc with all the messages signed by soonyoung and jun, there’s no way hao didn’t either tell them or strongly hint that those messages were guaranteed to be seen by y/n

Friday Free-for-alls, when you field confessions of all types. Dear Cherry, I need to get this off my chest. I’ve been using my roommate’s shampoo this whole semester, and today I found out that our two other roommates have also been using this roommate’s shampoo. He doesn’t suspect a thing.

maybe im remembering wrong, but wasn’t there an interview or something w i think wayv (or maybe another nct unit but pretty sure its them) where they admitted to using each others face soap (?) im probably wrong but is there any chance this was inspired by that?

Choi Seungcheol, fraternity president, football player, gym rat, jock, fuckboy extraordinaire— relationship advice columnist? No, it’s simply not realistic.

i love the concept of Scoups being the original Cherry (like the concept of one of his frat brothers writing in and him responding? but both doing it in secret?? idk i j love the image of it)

also the description of the albino squirrel as a good omen is such a cute and funny little detail to add!

“He’s not that bad,” you find yourself defending your fake boyfriend. “Mingyu is nice, and he’s really tall.”

You blink. Mingyu turns his pout on you now. “Nice and really tall? Are you for real?”

kajdfhjklhdfkjhd nooooo this description of mingyuuuuu. the way she tries to defend him but gives the most underwhelming reasons 😭😭😭

also the way jun immediately left w wonwoo when y/n revealed she was fake dating mingyu? such a good friend!!! we’d all be lucky to have a friend like jun 🥺

A part of you expects to see him in a different light, now that you think you love him, like there’s supposed to be cherubs singing and starlight in his eyes or something, but instead, you just see regular old Wonwoo. Your best friend. 

the realization that y/n loves wonwoo was so soooo well written and i loved this part of it especially. it rlly captures what i like so much abt the friends to lovers trope

“You can ignore him,” Minghao says, passing by with a full bottle of wine in each hand on his way to put them away in the kitchen. “I don’t think you should be giving any love advice when your own love life is a mess,” he sniffs.

i love love love the way you wrote bestie hao in this fic! the (well-deserved) judgement! the attitude! (also since im pretty sure he was masterminding this i love how he essentially gets to see firsthand his plan crashing and burning bc y/n is an idiot)

In retrospect, Mingyu was definitely going to win that Greek God competition, even if Jaehyun from Nu Kapp put up a good fight.

unrelated but you should know i still think abt those comments you made abt Jaehyun’s legs looking like chicken breast for the seoul city photos. you were very right but now i cant stop thinking abt it i checked and those photos were posted over a year ago 😭😭

“Overwatch,” you insist, tugging him towards the door. “Friday night. It’s Wonwoo and Y/N night.”

SHE REMEMBEREDDDDDD!!!!!!

The Wonwoo you know is shy and awkward and doesn’t quite know how to fit himself into social situations. He’s clumsy and absentminded and needs someone to take care of him, to dote on him and give him attention.

The Wonwoo that you know, you’ve known since you were in second grade, standing over the boy you had knocked over with a rubber kickball, staring at him as he sniffled on the woodchips and glared at you through big watery eyes. That day, you decided right then and there that this boy would be yours, and now…

awkejlfilaNj;oboajkdshfj something something -ill take care of you -its rotten work -not to me not if its youakdsjakjsdhkljhghjjkljkagjklahgei m screAMINGGGGG

It’s raw hurt, sharp, painful. His mouth twists and his brows furrow and he looks at you like you’re something to be afraid of. You hate it. You hate that you’re the cause of it, that he’s feeling this, whatever it is, because of you, even though you’re not sure why.

NOOOOOOOOOOO ajksdhfkjh its the way you describe the pain on his faceNOOOOOOOOO

“Go to sleep,” he says flatly. “Tomorrow you’ll wake up and go back to your boyfriend, and you’ll be happy that nothing happened tonight.”

im. in tears.

“You didn’t do anything embarrassing,” he grins, “except for abandoning your boyfriend at the party because you wanted to play Overwatch with me. C’mon, do you want to get brunch?”

noooo and the way the next morning hes still so caring and sweet 🥺🥺. if i were him i would’ve kicked y/n out of my apartment as soon as possible

“Yeah,” Wonwoo replies. His voice is tinny and quiet, but still clear, like he’s slipped his headset off and mic is pushed away. “I’m gaming with Y/N. I’m muted, don’t worry.”

ah yes the classic “im muted” but they’re not accidental confession. truly a favorite of mine

“I’m so glad we’re going to college together, Wonwoo. I want to be with you forever.”

And he had watched you as you said it, quiet, like he was breathless. Like you had said something terrible and incredible at the same time.

It’s always been Wonwoo beside you, lazy summers spent playing video games, late night phone calls where you’d talk and he’d listen, after class in his car listening to the radio and eating junk food. Had he loved you then? With ketchup on your shirt and acne across your face and poorly box-dyed hair? And had you loved him then too? Before you even knew what love is?

AAHAHHLAJHHHHHKAJLHDLAIUWHGLIUHUIHIUWEGUHUIAEGW AGAIN EVIDENCE YOURE SOMEHOW IN MY MIND CAPTURING EVERYTHING I LOVE ABOUT THIS TROPE AND EXECUTING IT TO PERFECTION!!!!!<333 ekjfhjh its all abt seeing the other at their most ordinary!!! and loving them for it!!!!!

“Wonwoo, I’m going downstairs,” you tell him.

“Wait–” his voice is tight and panicked, but you’re already tugging your headset off and grabbing your keys.

the parallel between earlier when y/n wanted to go down but didn’t after talking abt wonwoo’s crush and at the end when she realizes *she* was the crush?!!! *chefs kiss* (i do love me a good parallel)

“It was dark and I was tired. You didn’t notice that I passed out as soon as we dimmed the lights?” He raises his eyebrows as he defends himself, and you bury your face in your hands.

Click. The pieces are all falling in place.

the way he was sleeping?!!! so comedic and also so much better than the misunderstanding j being that y/n didn’t tell him

they’re idiots but i wouldnt have it any other way. i love when characters are idiots <3

“God,” he gasps between laughs, “we’re both so, so stupid.” And then you’re laughing too.

!!!

akjdfhjhh and the ending was so so so (x120398948949) sweet!

out of the frying pan and into your heart

jeon wonwoo x female reader

tags: college au, fraternities, fake dating, misunderstandings, childhood friends to lovers, this all could have been resolved with some proper communication, lots of pining specifically for em, fluff, rom com, best friend minghao, y/n is oblivious!!!

warnings: alcohol, weed, frats, american college setting

words: 9.3k

synopsis:

it starts, as it always does with this particular collection of friends, with shenanigans and cahoots.

well, more specifically, for wonwoo it starts with shenanigans, when soonyoung and junhui somehow manage to collide brain cells and write in to the school newspaper's love advice columnist about his crush on his childhood best friend.

and for you, the aforementioned childhood best friend and, in secret, also the aforementioned love advice columnist, it starts with cahoots when kim mingyu manages to convince you to fake date him so he can win some popularity contest for his frat.

for @notesof-mh

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It starts, as it always does with this particular collection of friends, with shenanigans and cahoots. 

Well, more specifically, for Wonwoo it starts with shenanigans, when Soonyoung and Junhui somehow manage to collide brain cells. 

He had barely been awake for 15 seconds when they had barged into his room, laptop in hands, just to show him the text in a pink-colored submission box surrounded by heart emojis. Wonwoo squints, the blurry words coming into just enough focus for him to make out what they say. “Dear Cherry, I’m a third year computer science student and I’m in love with my best friend, except I’m— what the hell is this?” 

He glares at Soonyoung who grins cheerfully and points again at the screen. “Read the rest, Wonwoo!”

Wonwoo sighs and continues reading. “Except I’m a huge awkward loser and she’s so cool and pretty, and I don’t know how to tell her I like her. What should I do?”

“Alright, hit send,” Junhui instructs, tilting the laptop away and laughing maniacally. 

Wonwoo pushes his hand across his face, trying his best to wipe away the last vestiges of sleep-addled confusion, and then he realizes what’s happening.

“Wait, you can’t do that,” he tries to protest, but Soonyoung giggles and clicks a button.

“No, this will be good,” Junhui says, plopping down on the edge of Wonwoo’s bed. “Minghao told me that whoever runs the advice column in the school paper is, like, a love guru, and she has four thousand followers on instagram. And she’s never shown her face, but she’s probably also really pretty.”

Wonwoo groans. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“Just trust us,” Soonyoung pats Wonwoo’s knee through the blanket, “this is a good idea.”

And for you, it starts with kahoots, when your chemistry lab partner, Mingyu, pulls your stool closer to his side and whispers a proposition to you.

“Do you want to be my fake girlfriend?”

You narrow your eyes at him through your fogged up department-issued safety goggles. “Are you insane? What kind of fumes are you on?”

“None,” Mingyu replies. “I’m Sigma’s nominee for the Greek God award at the inter-fraternity tournament this year and I’m the only nominee who’s single.”

“And so I’m your pick,” you respond flatly. 

Mingyu nods eagerly. His safety glasses slide down his nose, and he has to push them back up. “Yeah, you’re so pretty and cool, I think it’d be really impressive if I somehow managed to pull you.”

“Huh.”

“And,” he adds on, lowering his voice even more, “Jeonghan thinks my only real competition this year is going to be Jung Jaehyun from Nu Kappa Tau, and rumor has it you rejected him in high school. Twice. So I think it’d be pretty funny if we ended up together.”

You scoff and turn back toward the titration in front of you. “You can’t go up to people and ask for things like this.”

“C’mon, you know the winner gets free parking for an entire semester,” he whines. “Ok, how’s this? If you’ll pretend to be my girlfriend for the Greek God award, I’ll write our lab reports for the rest of the semester.” 

His offer makes you pause, and he jumps on that pause, wedging his way in there. 

“I’ll give you executive editing power, but I’ll do all the work,” he wheedles, “and I’ll give you a perfect peer eval at the end of the semester. I promise,” he puts a big meaty hand on your lab notebook and smears the ink under his fingers. “Kim Mingyu isn’t a liar.”

“I’ll conveniently ignore the fact that you’re lying about having a girlfriend to win this award, then,” you roll your eyes.

“That’s different, though,” he protests, “the award is dumb and meaningless and I really want it. But a promise made between buddies is important.”

He looks earnest, so you decide to lay off on him just a little. “When we’re fake-dating,” you sigh, “you can’t call us buddies anymore.”

“So that’s a…”

You groan, hating yourself for being so indulgent. “Yes. That’s a yes.”

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“Hold on Y/N, have you seen this?”

“Seen what?” You look over the top of your laptop screen, where you’re halfway through a paper on the Cuban Missile Crisis. 

Minghao, your co-admin of the school newspaper’s (infamous) advice column turns his screen towards you. “Someone wrote in calling themselves a huge awkward loser.”

“Huh,” you grin to yourself as you read over the message quickly. “That’s kind of cute, actually.”

“Of course you think it’s cute,” Minghao rolls his eyes. “I’m going to assign this one over to you.”

“Yeah, sure, but please,” you mutter, “can you be a bit more discreet about it?”

Minghao looks at you over the top of his glasses. “What, about us being Ask Cherry? It’s not as embarrassing as you make it out to be.”

“Be quiet,” you hiss, looking around, “someone could overhear!” You frown, and then quietly, you add on, “and it is embarrassing. I’m supposed to be a journalism major, and I’m here making up horoscopes and giving fake relationship advice three days a week.”

This is an overstatement, and Minghao rolls his eyes. You only make up horoscopes and give fake relationship advice one day a week (Mondays are for Matters Of The Heart, your schedule says). There’s also Am I The Asshole Wednesdays, a campus favorite, and Friday Free-for-alls, when you field confessions of all types. Dear Cherry, I need to get this off my chest. I’ve been using my roommate’s shampoo this whole semester, and today I found out that our two other roommates have also been using this roommate’s shampoo. He doesn’t suspect a thing. 

You hadn’t meant to end up in this position. You write serious pieces for the school newspaper too, reporting on the Student Government’s legislative sessions and the university’s semesterly budget for grants to culturally-centered student organizations. Those articles, you have your name attached to. But at the end of last year, the new editor-in-chief Jeonghan had approached you and convinced (strong-armed) you into becoming the new writer for the infamous advice column, Ask Cherry, since Cherry himself was quitting to make more time for other priorities.

(“And the kicker is,” you had complained to Minghao, “nobody will ever believe me.” Choi Seungcheol, fraternity president, football player, gym rat, jock, fuckboy extraordinaire— relationship advice columnist? No, it’s simply not realistic. 

“I’m sitting on the juiciest piece of gossip to cross my path in my entire life, and I can’t do anything about it,” you say dejectedly.

“Hmm.” Minghao doesn’t even pretend to be interested.)

But, despite your disastrous real-world love life, your clumsily dispensed life advice, and the completely made up horoscopes, Ask Cherry readership skyrocketed under your intrepid watch. Once, you told a reader that the albino squirrel that lives in the tree next to the physics building was a good omen, and the next day, rumor spread that an albino squirrel sighting would grant you an A on your next exam. For weeks after, people would scatter peanuts and pieces of toast by the base of the tree next to the physics building, until campus facilities had to fence the area off because raccoons were starting to show up instead. 

Minghao finding out had been a complete accident, after you had lent him your laptop to print out a paper that was due the next hour, but you had forgotten to minimize the window with your Ask Chrery submissions. Minghao, being someone who loves giving advice, both solicited and unsolicited, naturally joined in on this scheme of yours. 

“Anyways,” you shrug. You look up as Junhui steps into the public study area of the library and scans the tables twice before making eye contact with you, and then waving. “Minghao, did you invite the others over to study with us?”

“Yeah,” Minghao responds, raising an eyebrow at you. “You got a problem with that?”

“No, it’s just—“ you’re about to complain about never being able to focus on your work with the rest of them around, but the words die on your lips when you spot Wonwoo trailing behind Junhui with a bemused expression on his face and a cardboard tray holding bubble teas in his hands. You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. “Hey guys,” you wave over to them, clearing off the table space next to you to make room for them. 

“I brought you a taro milk tea,” Junhui announces, gesturing behind him, “and a Wonwoo to boot.”

“He made me walk with him because he didn’t know your favorite drink,” Wonwoo explains quietly as he slides the drinks onto the table and takes his seat next to you. “Are you working on that international relations paper?”

“Yeah.” You take your taro milk tea. No ice, 50% sweet, tapioca pearls and grass jelly, just the way you like it. 

“Do you think you’ll be done by Friday?”

“I will be free by then,” you promise him, punctuating your statement by stabbing your boba straw through the film covering the cup. You’d rather suffer through an all nighter on Sunday than miss your regular Friday night gaming sessions with Wonwoo, a tradition the two of you have kept up since both of you were in middle school and still playing Starcraft.

“Anyway,” Junhui leans over the table, resting his chin on top of his interlaced fingers. “I have a funny story.”

You tear your gaze away from Wonwoo. “Hm?”

“So, you know that advice columnist for the school paper? Wonwoo submitted a question the other day. Well, Soonyoung and I did, but for Wonwoo.”

You feel your blood run cold. It’s not that you’re ashamed of running a love advice column, but it’s more that you’re… embarrassed. And you’ve been running it in secret for so long that at this point, you can’t even fathom anyone outside of Minghao knowing. Maybe when you graduate, you’ll do an identity reveal, but you’re not quite there now.

“Can we talk about literally anything else,” Wonwoo grouses, somewhat to your relief. he glares at Junhui, but the effect is somewhat dampened when he lifts his bubble tea to his mouth and loudly slurps up some tapioca pearls.

“Yeah,” you quickly agree, not eager to have your secret identity exposed.

Junhui steamrolls on ahead, however. “So. If you’re reading the column and there’s a question from someone who has a big stupid crush, you know who it’s from.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Wonwoo? A crush?

“Junhui,” Wonwoo groans, digging his fingers into the bridge of his nose, brows furrowed in an expression of exquisite pain. 

Minghao, however, leans forward and lets his glasses slide down his nose. He laces his fingers together. “A crush? On who?”

Junhui and Minghao both turn to stare at Wonwoo, who flushes beet red. 

“Oh, hey guys!”

You feel a heavy arm around your shoulder and turn to see, to your abject horror, Mingyu, who scoots his way onto the bench to squeeze in next to you. “What are you doing here,” you hiss at your oversized interloper, but Mingyu just glances pointedly at the spot two tables down where a bunch of upperclassmen are sitting and chatting. You recognize Choi Seungcheol, the president of Mingyu’s frat, and you sigh and deflate. Fine. A promise is a promise.

You smile weakly at the other three guys sitting at your table. “Surprise,” you say flatly,” Mingyu is my boyfriend now.”

You’re momentarily distracted by a loud honking noise as Junhui narrowly avoids choking on his bubble tea and spraying the table through his nose. 

“Mingyu?!” Minghao sounds simultaneously dismayed and slightly judgemental.

“C’mon, dude,” Mingyu whines, slumping like a kicked puppy. You pat his bicep soothingly. “You don’t have to make it sound that bad.”

Minghao and Junhui share a conspicuous glance. Mingyu isn’t the type of guy you’d usually go for, but you think this reaction is a bit uncalled for. “He’s not that bad,” you find yourself defending your fake boyfriend. “Mingyu is nice, and he’s really tall.”

You blink. Mingyu turns his pout on you now. “Nice and really tall? Are you for real?”

“It’s true,” you scowl at him. “Are you here to study, or did you just come by to get on my nerves?”

“Okay, well,” Junhui interjects sharply, “Wonwoo and I should get going.”

“Wait, but you two just got here,” you attempt to protest, but Wonwoo, who had been quiet this whole time, stands up and slings his backpack over his shoulder.

“I’ll see you later, Y/N,” he says to you, before leaving along with Junhui. 

(It’s not until later, when you’re lounging with Minghao in the living room of your shared apartment, that it hits you, again, but this time with its full weight.

“Wonwoo likes someone,” you say out loud. It’s not a question.

Minghao glances up form his book at you with a frown plastered across his face, his brows creased with irritation. He evaluates you carefully over the silver rims of his glasses, which you know aren’t prescription but are mainly there to make him look elegant and intellectual.

“...yes,” he finally acknowledges.

You frown despite yourself. “I wonder who it is.”

“What does it matter to you,” Minghao scoffs, “you’re dating Mingyu, remember?”

“You can pretend to hate Gyu, but I know you like him better than any of the rest of us.” You really hadn’t been expecting to defend Mingyu twice in a day, but you suppose that’s life as Kim Mingyu’s girlfriend. “And anyways, Wonwoo and I have been friends since we were kids. I can’t believe he didn’t tell me earlier.”

“Yeah, he probably can’t believe it either,” Minghao mutters under his breath so quietly, you almost miss it. Then, in a louder voice, he chides, “don’t think too much about it, yeah? You still have to reply professionally to his advice request. His anonymous advice request.”

“Right,” you sigh dejectedly, frowning at your laptop balanced across your knees. “How do I tell him that he’s not a nerd and a loser without giving away that I know who he is?”

Minghao shrugs. “Maybe tell him to be patient. Or maybe tell him to try to start getting over his crush.”

You consider his suggestion for a moment. It’s appealing, but then the thought of Wonwoo wasting away in his dark bedroom, sighing as he pines over his unrequited love, flashes across your mind. “I just don’t want him to be sad.”)

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“C’mon, he was right on top of you,” Wonwoo complains. You can hear the creaking of his gaming chair in the background, undoubtedly as he rises from his reclined position to gulp down more of whatever energy drink he has in his mini fridge this week. You groan and dig your fingers into the junction between your neck and shoulder, trying with little success to work out the knot that’s developed over this last round of PUBG.

“Wonwoo, that’s the problem, I suck at close range,” you huff in response, “you know I get panicky and forget to turn off auto-fire.”

It’s game night, and you and Wonwoo have been at it for the past two hours. Your paper isn’t done yet, but it can wait. It’s been over a decade since the years when the two of you would spend your summers together playing video games and walking aimlessly around the neighborhood with half-melted popsicles, talking for hours. But even as your social circles diverted from his, it’s always been something of an unspoken agreement that for this, you’d always make time for Wonwoo, and he’d always make time for you.

“Another round?” You and Wonwoo both ask the question at the same time. There’s a pause, and then you’re both laughing. Even over the headset mic, Wonwoo’s laugh is loud and unrestrained. It feels like a secret, a side of Wonwoo that he saves just for you and for Friday nights spent on opposite sides of the monitor.

“So.” You’re still waiting for the next match to start when Wonwoo breaks the comfortable silence. “Mingyu?”

You fidget at the ties of your hoodie. It’s stolen from Wonwoo, and you’ve had it since middle school at least. “Yeah?”

“Interesting choice.”

“What does that mean?”

He makes a casual, noncommittal noise. “I’m just surprised. I didn’t see it coming, and you didn’t tell me about it.”

You open your mouth to tell him that it’s actually all a ruse, to explain the whole situation, but the hard, petulant edge to his voice makes you pause. Wonwoo sounds… upset. But not quite upset. Jealous?

“Wonwoo,” you laugh. Onscreen, the timer counting down to the start of the match appears, and you jam on the space bar to make your character jump over his character’s prone body. “Wonwoo, are you jealous?”

Over your headphones, you hear the sound of his gaming chair squeaking. “I’m not jealous,” he says, in a tone of voice that sounds exactly like Wonwoo when he’s jealous. 

“You are. Where are we landing?” You toggle to the map in the game and zoom in on the path that the plane is taking. The player count in the bottom starts dropping as other players jump out. 

“Blue marker, does that look good to you? There’s a few houses we can loot, and it’s not close to the flight path. If we get bad circle placement, you can shoot me in the foot, if you want. As a treat.”

“Yeah, fine. Lead the way, boss. Anyways, why are you jealous?” You suppress the flutter in your chest. There’s no reason for you to get your hopes up. 

“You’re my friend,” Wonwoo says simply. It feels like a heavy towel being thrown over you. “You used to tell me everything. Mingyu is… fine,” he admits reluctantly. “He’s a good guy. I’m happy for you.”

Your heart clenches. You want to say something soft and sincere, but instead, you return with a jab. “You can’t be upset at me for keeping secrets, Wonwoo. What was Junhui saying about you liking someone?”

“Junhui just says stuff sometimes,” he replies curtly. 

You frown. “Junhui isn’t a liar, though. Who is it?” You ask, despite everything in you telling yourself that you don’t want to know the answer. “Who are they? Maybe I can talk to them for you.”

He laughs humorlessly. “It doesn’t matter. She’s in a relationship with someone else.”

You almost sigh in relief, but you stop yourself just in time. Why are you relieved? “Oh, Wonwoo. That sucks. She doesn’t know what she’s missing out on.”

Wonwoo makes a noise that tells you he’s shrugging. “She deserves better than me.”

“Hey!” You sit up, straightening your spine in indignation. “Don’t say that. You’re great, Wonwoo. You’re criminally underappreciated. You’re smart and you’re so sincere and kind, and maybe other people don’t acknowledge it, but you’re really funny and interesting.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and the only thing you hear is the game audio as your character collects supplies and clears the building the two of you are in. “Let me know if you find any gun that’s not a pistol, by the way. I have a 2x scope on me.”

“Thank you,” Wonwoo replies. You know he’s not talking about the scope.

Even though the two of you are gaming individually in your own rooms, you want nothing more than to tug off your headphones and go down the two flights of stairs to Wonwoo’s apartment and give him a hug.

“I have an AKM and a bunch of healing items on me,” Wonwoo says, “come to me and you can have whatever you want.”

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It would have been much less embarrassing if you had realized it last week when you were walking to class and Wonwoo had stopped you in the middle of the sidewalk to pluck a fallen leaf from your hair with that stupidly fond expression plastered on his face; or maybe when you accidentally fell asleep in his bed during an afternoon study session and woke up later with your head on his shoulder, legs tangled together, the sound of his soft snoring puffing in your ear, his hand held loosely in yours. Maybe in another life, it would have been one of those soft, romantic moments, like something out of a coming of age anime. But no, because you’re you and your life is the way it is, the moment you realize you’re in love with Wonwoo goes like this:

It’s Sunday, noon already, and you’re in Wonwoo’s shared apartment. Junhui had let you in earlier when you had knocked at their door until your knuckles were sore. When you burst unceremoniously into Wonwoo’s bedroom, he’s still asleep with his glasses on, smudged and crooked, and his phone on his chest. You frown. “Wake up, Wonwoo. Did you fall asleep while watching dramas again?”

Wonwoo jumps slightly and lifts his head, brows furrowing. “Huh?”

“You said you’d go to lunch with me.” You extend your arms and spin to show off your cute, perfectly coordinated outfit, picked out specifically to match the instagram trap you’re going to. You even broke out the eyeliner and glitter eyeshadow to match the cute knit cardigan and wool miniskirt you put on. “What hat should I wear? The fuzzy bucket hat,” you hold up option one, “or the beret,” you hold up option two, looking down at Wonwoo expectantly.

Your best friend groans and collapses back onto the bed, eyes sliding shut. “Um. The beret.”

“Okay great, now get out of bed. Our reservation is soon and you still need to wash your face and get dressed.” You poke at his cheek, which is greasy from sleep and still bears the imprint of his pillow. 

“Can you get Minghao to go with you instead?” He doesn’t bother opening his eyes.

“Nope,” you respond, popping the ‘p’, “he has dance practice.”

“Mingyu?”

“He said he had a textile arts club meeting?” You frown. “I’m not sure what it is, but he’s been crocheting like crazy for it this week.”

“Um,” Wonwoo smacks his hand over his face, clearly trying to think of other options. He forgets, however, that he fell asleep with his glasses on, and ends up jamming the frames against this cheek. “Ow. Ok, what about, uh, Seokmin?”

You pout at him even though he can’t see it. “Wonu,” you whine, sitting down on his bed, “I want to go to lunch with you, though.”

At that, he finally cracks his eyes open. “Why?”

Because, you want to say, I don’t want to do this with anybody other than you. You briefly try to imagine doing this whole thing– dressing up, making a reservation, taking pictures and walking around town, huddling together in a cafe in the afternoon to watch the latest Nintendo Direct together– with anybody else, but you just quite settle on it comfortably. No. It has to be Wonwoo. Because Wonwoo is your best friend, because Wonwoo has always been there for you, because Wonwoo just gets you, better than anybody ever has, and every moment you spend with Wonwoo, you feel your mood lifting and relaxing. Because you trust Wonwoo and he trusts you, and because you know him, and you love him–

You love him.

Oh.

Oh.

You’ll have to process that later. “Because you have a car and you can drive me,” you tell Wonwoo instead, shoving the revelation down to the back of your mind and putting it in a box labeled problems for future me.

“Fine,” Wonwoo acquiesces, sitting up with enormous effort. His hair is still sticking up in all directions, making him look like a big dark dandelion. A part of you expects to see him in a different light, now that you think you love him, like there’s supposed to be cherubs singing and starlight in his eyes or something, but instead, you just see regular old Wonwoo. Your best friend. He doesn’t suddenly look like a vision sent from heaven, he just looks sleepy and crusty and a little greasy.

“Hurry up and brush your teeth,” you tell him, slapping him lightly on his belly and laughing at the resulting ouuff that jerks out of him, “you have morning breath and I can smell it from here.”

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From: kwon.soonyoung@svt.edu To: ask_cherry_svt@gmail.com Re: advice

Dear Cherry, my friend is in love with his childhood friend but she doesn’t love him back :( how do we make her fall in love with him? from anonymous

“Hm,” you sigh out loud, “I wonder if Soonyoung knows that the anonymous signoff is made moot by the fact that he emailed this one in instead of using the anonymous submission box.” You’re draped on the couch with your legs propped all the way up and your laptop on your chest as you scroll through this week’s Am I The Asshole Wednesday submissions.

“You can ignore him,” Minghao says, passing by with a full bottle of wine in each hand on his way to put them away in the kitchen. “I don’t think you should be giving any love advice when your own love life is a mess,” he sniffs. 

“You’re the asshole,” you announce, not looking up from your screen. “That was for you, Minghao.” Clearly, he’s still mad at you after you had revealed the whole Mingyu situation to him a few nights ago. You still remember the blistering look that Minghao had thrown at you, like you’re the dumbest human he’s ever had the supreme displeasure of knowing.

“I guess you don’t want to go to the dance team party with me, then,” your roommate responds smoothly, returning from the kitchen. It’s only 6pm, but Minghao is already dressed in a silk pajama set with a matching robe, lenseless glasses frames perched on the tip of his nose, smelling of strawberry-scented lotion as he pours himself a glass of wine.

You scowl at him.  “Fine. I don’t care.” Turning back to your laptop, you scroll past a few more boring submissions on your hunt for the truly salacious stuff your classmates get up to. “I wonder what Soonyoung is even talking about, though,” you mumble, half to yourself, as you click on the next interesting subject line.

.

.

.

In retrospect, Mingyu was definitely going to win that Greek God competition, even if Jaehyun from Nu Kapp put up a good fight.

Mingyu’s physique is certainly impressive, and the audience erupted when he won the (shirtless and oiled-up, for some reason) pushup contest, but his clumsiness eventually led him to lose at every other physical challenge. It was his overwhelming victory in the popularity vote and personality contest that got him to first place. It’s probably all because of his unwavering friendliness and his constant need for affirmation manifesting into an overwhelming desire to be helpful, but you like to think that maybe you helped too.

That’s why you’re here, in the kitchen of the Sigma house, absolutely wasted at the celebration party the frat is throwing in honor of Mingyu being crowned the best frat star on campus. Between the blunt that you, Mingyu, Minghao, and Seokmin, another friend in your year, had passed around upstairs, and all the shots that Mingyu had plied you with, you’re feeling weirdly bouncy and giggly and not entirely sure if you’ll remember this the next morning.

“Okay, so,” Mingyu mumbles, pulling you closer as the two of you nestle in a corner, away from whatever is going on at the beer pong table, “we should stage a breakup, right?”

You giggle against the hollow of his throat, arms looped over his shoulders. “Can we make it your fault?”

He whines like a kicked puppy. “Why can’t we make it mutual? Jeonghan would kick my ass.”

“Fine, fine,” you huff, not at all reluctant. “We should give it some time so it’s not suspicious, right?”

“Yeah.” Mingyu nods, accidentally knocking his chin against your forehead. “You’re so smart.”

“Which means I’m still on girlfriend duty tonight,” you conclude.

“Oh, come on.” Mingyu’s hands come down to rest at your waist, his fingertips skimming along the waistband of your skirt, eliciting a shiver from you when you feel his rough, warm skin against yours. “You make it sound like a chore.”

You sigh. Oh well, you could do much worse than Mingyu.

You’re not sure if it’s the weed or the alcohol, or maybe just jealousy at this fake version of yourself that’s happy with a boyfriend and not moping over an unrequited crush on your childhood best friend, but you find it strangely easy to lean up and attach your lips to Mingyu’s, feel the wet heat of his tongue in your mouth. and Mingyu, pliant under your grip as always, kisses you back, going along with it without a second thought.

“No offense,” he pants as he parts from you, “but I don’t think I want to hook up with you.”

You blink at him. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No, no,” he clarifies quickly, “you’re a good kisser, I just don’t want things to be weird between us, which I think might happen if we hook up.”

“If fake dating didn’t make things weird, I’m not sure that hooking up would,” you laugh, more of a giggle than anything. You attach your lips to his jaw, pulling him down towards you so you don’t have to crane your neck. 

“And also,” he nudges at the hair behind your ear with his nose, “you’re like, totally wasted right now.”

“You’re not sober either,” you shoot back, accusatory.

“More sober than you,” he shoots back. He’s right, though. His large stature means that he can hold his liquor much better than you. “It wouldn’t be fair,” he pouts, stubborn, “and I’m not a creep.”

“Fine.” You tug lightly at the short hairs on the back of his head. 

“Are… are you okay?”

Mingyu’s question makes you hesitate for a moment. You lean your flushed cheek against the jut of his collarbone. “I’m drunk,” you respond flatly.

“No, not that, you’re just usually not this…” you feel Mingyu gulp, “clingy.”

You wonder if you should tell him about Wonwoo and your stupid pointless crush that’s starting to feel less like a crush every time you’re with him and more like… something deeper. Something frightening, like a yawning chasm, just waiting for you to fall in.

You’re saved the effort of further deliberation, however, when Mingyu suddenly raises his head and interrupts your thoughts. “Hey, isn’t that Wonwoo?”

You lift yourself off of Mingyu’s chest and look behind you. True to his word, it really is Wonwoo, standing by the door, jacket on, looking at you like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“Huh, he doesn’t usually come to these,” Mingyu observes, tugging idly at the bottom of your shirt. “I wonder why he’s here.”

You think you know why he’s here, though. Earlier, back upstairs, you had excused yourself to the bathroom to take a quick breather. Through an alcohol and weed induced haze, you had belatedly realized that it’s Friday night, and you’re late.

you: cn you come pick me u you: at sigma wonu: are you ok? i’ll be there in a few you: sry im drunk you: wanna go home w u

Now, staring Wonwoo dead in the eyes, you realize with a jolt that you had never told him why you asked him to pick you up. You peel yourself off your fake boyfriend and stumble, clumsily, towards Wonwoo, trying your best to ignore the way the room spins around you.

“Wonu,” you whine reaching out to him.

He frowns. “Are you okay? What’s happening?”

“I’m drunk,” you tell him.

“I know.” He extends his arm and lets you cling on to him as you stumble into his torso.

“And it’s Friday night,” you look up at him.

“Yes.”

“We’re supposed to be playing Overwatch together.” You give him the best puppy eyes you can muster, and he blinks at you, looking flustered.

“Huh?”

“Overwatch,” you insist, tugging him towards the door. “Friday night. It’s Wonwoo and Y/N night.”

“Is… is this what you called me over here for?”

You nod and begin dragging Wonwoo out by the wrist. 

The cool air outside hits your flushed skin like a wave, like you’re jumping into a pool. Wonwoo is silent and lets you continue to cling onto him as he walks you to where he had parked on the side of the street, directly under a streetlight.

You slide into the passenger seat. Wonwoo hands you a bottle of water, cap already removed for you. “Hydrate,” he orders. 

“Sorry,” you whimper, somewhat pathetically.

He frowns. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I must be so annoying,” you mumble, feeling tears welling up in your eyes.

“No,” Wonwoo reaches out and takes your hand over the center console. “You’re not annoying.”

You watch him as he drives. He’s so handsome, your alcohol-addled mind supplies. 

“You don’t think I’m annoying?”

“Never.”

Wonwoo says it like a promise.

Silence falls over the two of you as he drives through campus, all the way back to the student housing unit that both of you live in. He turns off the engine, leaving a silence that feels even more all-encompassing. He looks over at you, face half hidden in the shadows and half illuminated by the orange lamplight outside. “Is Minghao home?”

“N…no, he’s back at the party.”

“Okay, we’re going back to my apartment, then,” he decides.

You blink. “Huh?” But you’re already stumbling out of his car and spilling onto the sidewalk, all wobbly legs and loose limbs. 

“I’m taking you back to my place,” Wonwoo repeats. “You need someone to watch you and make sure you don’t wander off and get lost in the city,” he explains drily.

“‘M okay,” you whine futilely. It’s especially unconvincing, since you’re still stumbling over your own feet and leaning against him. 

Wonwoo lets you rest your cheek on his shoulder and cling onto him as he lets you into his apartment, gets you a glass of water, and digs up a pack of makeup wipes from out of nowhere and sits you on his bed and starts to get to work. 

A small (very drunk) part of you bristles at the appearance of the makeup wipes, and you try to scowl, even as Wonwoo gently wipes at your smudged eyeliner. “Whose are these? Do you have a lot of girls over here or something?”

“They’re Junhui’s, he uses them,” Wonwoo explains. He dabs at one last spot in the corner of your right eye, then announces, “there, you’re all done.”

You open your eyes to see Wonwoo grinning dopily at you. “You’re cute,” you poke at his cheek, and he laughs quietly. Seokmin used to be afraid of him, he had confessed to you, and you wonder why, because the Wonwoo you know is so soft, so loveable, so goofy and cute. 

The Wonwoo you know is shy and awkward and doesn’t quite know how to fit himself into social situations. He’s clumsy and absentminded and needs someone to take care of him, to dote on him and give him attention.

The Wonwoo that you know, you’ve known since you were in second grade, standing over the boy you had knocked over with a rubber kickball, staring at him as he sniffled on the woodchips and glared at you through big watery eyes. That day, you decided right then and there that this boy would be yours, and now…

“Wonwoo,” you blurt out without thinking, “I’m in love with you.”

His breath catches. Wonwoo pauses, digesting your clumsily delivered confession, and then he makes the most awful expression you have ever seen on him.

It’s raw hurt, sharp, painful. His mouth twists and his brows furrow and he looks at you like you’re something to be afraid of. You hate it. You hate that you’re the cause of it, that he’s feeling this, whatever it is, because of you, even though you’re not sure why.

“Really,” you insist. You reach out to grab his hand, but he pulls away from you. “It’s true. I’m in love with you.”

You hear a sharp intake of breath. “You’re not,” he says. “You’re in love with Mingyu. You’re happy with him.”

“I’m not… I’m not in love with him,” you try to explain, but your liquor-numbed lips are clumsy and you trip over your words. You lean towards him, slanting your face up, because you want to kiss him so badly it’s all you can think of. Wonwoo shoves you back, hard. 

“Don’t,” he bites, voice sharp and tense.

“I’m in love with you,” you repeat, reaching out to him, but he pushes your hand back and steps away. Like he’s afraid of you.

“Don’t do it. You’re drunk.” His voice wavers slightly. “Don’t do something you’ll regret tomorrow.”

You shake your head, but Wonwoo looks at you with so much hurt and confusion in his eyes, you can’t bring yourself to argue. “Wonu,” you whisper, reaching out to rest your fingertips on his wrist, “please don’t cry.”

He takes a long, shuddering breath, eyes closed, and then when he exhales and opens his eyes again, his expression is impassive. Unreadable.

“Go to sleep,” he says flatly. “Tomorrow you’ll wake up and go back to your boyfriend, and you’ll be happy that nothing happened tonight.”

He closes the door to his bedroom, leaving you in the darkness.

(Wonwoo is cold.

He’s always a little cold, but in his haste to escape earlier, he hadn’t gotten a blanket or even changed into sweats before closing the door behind him, and now Wonwoo lays on the couch, his feet hanging over the armrest, staring at the ceiling. 

I’m in love with you, your voice rings in his head. Wonwoo’s cheek still burns where you had gently rested your hand earlier. If he hadn’t known any better, Wonwoo might have believed you and given in to his most guilty, far-off fantasy, the one where you love him back.

But Wonwoo does know better. He saw the way you were draped all over Mingyu at the party, the way you giggled into his neck when Mingyu slipped his fingertips under the him of your shirt. Mingyu is good for you, Wonwoo decides. Like you, Mingyu is bright and out-going, popular, well-liked, good at receiving love and gives it readily in return. 

Wonwoo closes his eyes, tries to push away the memory of your body curled into his, and wills his mind into silence so that maybe he can get some sleep tonight.)

You wake up, nauseous and hung over and feeling not at all rested, in Wonwoo’s bed.

Groaning, you swipe at your face, expecting to see a gloopy mess on your fingers, but your makeup has already been removed. You squint at the dim sunlight streaming in through the closed blinds, and you reach around blindly until your fingers close around your phone. 

There’s a smattering of random social media notifications and updates from group chats, but one notification in particular catches your eye.

wonu: i’m outside wonu: where are you? are you ok? wonu: i’m gonna head inside to look for you

You feel your cheeks flush as the memories come trickling back– your drunk texts, insisting that your best friend picks you up, kissing Mingyu, leaving the party with Wonwoo, clinging on to him like a koala…

Gathering your courage and steeling your woozy stomach, you stumble out of bed and throw open the door, poking your head out. Wonwoo is sprawled across the couch, undoubtedly playing some kind of mobile game, when he looks up at you. His hair is sticking up in every possible direction and his shirt is crumpled. “Hi,” he says, expression impossibly neutral.

“Hi,” you grin, waving lamely. “I feel like shit. I didn’t say anything weird or embarrassing last night, did I?”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “You don’t remember?”

You shake your head. “I remember you picking me up from the frat, I think.”

For a split second, he looks relieved. Then, he puts his phone down and laughs at you. “You didn’t do anything embarrassing,” he grins, “except for abandoning your boyfriend at the party because you wanted to play Overwatch with me. C’mon, do you want to get brunch?”

You press your palms against your throbbing forehead. Your brain hurts, and you’re almost sure you half-remember telling Wonwoo that you’re in love with him, but Wonwoo is looking at you expectantly and you’d like nothing more than some french toast and a hot coffee right now, so you shrug. “Sure, lemme wash up and get changed in my apartment first.”

.

.

.

“Dear Cherry, my friend is hopelessly in love with his childhood best friend, who is currently dating a hot frat dude. Should he just give up? The moping is starting to bum me out and I’m worried my hair is going to fall out. Love, Wen Junhui.”

You wrinkle your nose at the message. “And has anybody ever told Junhui that the whole point of anonymous submissions is defeated when he signs his messages with his full name?”

Minghao looks up from the canvas he’s busy splattering paint on. It’s his semester final project, and you had promised to accompany him in the basement of the fine arts building as he works.

Instead of answering, he looks at you like you’re the densest human he’s ever had the misfortune of meeting. “Maybe he’s not trying to be anonymous. Maybe he’s trying to complain about someone we know.”

You squint at your laptop screen. “Who is this supposed to be about, anyways?”

This time, Minghao actually rolls his eyes at you. “Whatever. Have you broken up with Mingyu yet?”

“Yeah, we broke up two days ago. It was mutual, because Mingyu was genuinely afraid that Jeonghan would kick his ass if we said we broke up with me.”

The two of you had made a whole show of deleting all your carefully staged couple photos off your social media accounts, and then unfollowing and refollowing each other within the span of two days, because as the story goes, you and Mingyu had talked it over and are better as friends than as a couple.

“That’s nice,” Minghao says. He unscrews a jar of turpentine and starts to clean off his brushes. “Maybe you should respond to Junhui’s advice submission.”

You groan. “I’ll just tell him to tell his friend to get over it,” you scowl.

“By the way, what’s wrong with Wonwoo?”

“What do you mean?” You look up. Minghao is now attacking the canvas with a palette knife, carving some dramatic impasto into the paint.

“The last two times all of us hung out together, he’s been all…weird.” Minghao wrinkles his nose. “It’s like he’s some kind of guilty dog. He stares at you when you’re not looking, and then he looks away when you are.”

You chew on your lip, work now long forgotten on your idle laptop. Minghao is right. Wonwoo has been different, but not… different. He’s as unwaveringly weird as always, and he’s been texting you links to youtube cat videos and starting arguments on video game theories as always, but it feels like Wonwoo has been aggressively normal. Like how best friends are supposed to be. Light and easy.

“I don’t know. I feel like he’s been acting weird these days too, but I can’t figure out how.”

“You should talk to him,” Minghao says, like talking to Wonwoo about his feelings is easy or something. Or like talking about your own feelings is easy.  

“Or maybe I shouldn’t,” you sigh. Whatever is going on with Wonwoo, you’re just glad he still wants to hang out with you. You’re not entirely sure what you even did wrong, but you’d be willing to beg on your hands and knees for him to forgive you and to stick by your side. “Whatever. We’re gaming together this Friday, I’ll think about it then, I guess.”

.

.

.

“Wonu, I’m scared,” you whine into the mic. It’s another Friday night and the two of you are playing PUBG again. You’re in the endgame now– the original 100 has been whittled down to just 5 players remaining, including you but not including Wonwoo, who had been killed earlier and is now spectating you in-game like some sort of ghost. 

“Just sit tight,” he instructs. In your mind’s eye, he’s leaning back in his gaming chair, arms crossed as he observes your gameplay. 

“There’s gunshots,” you complain, “North? I think they’re hiding by those rocks. It sounds like they’ve got a good sniper rifle, too.”

“They don’t know you’re there. Just let the other teams fight it out. You have enough ammo?”

You huff. “I have like, twelve shotgun shells.”

“And you have the location advantage. Just sit and wait for now.”

You sigh, aimlessly panning the camera back and forth in your anxiety. “Fine,” you agree, because despite it all, Wonwoo is still better at this game than you are, and because you trust him. 

Seconds pass. The audio of distant gunfire in crisp surround sound keeps you on edge and tense, so that when you hear Soonyoung, one of Wonwoo’s roommates, you nearly jump out of your skin. 

“Hey, are you busy?”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo replies. His voice is tinny and quiet, but still clear, like he’s slipped his headset off and mic is pushed away. “I’m gaming with Y/N. I’m muted, don’t worry.”

You’re about to shout and let him know that he’s not actually muted, but your curiosity gets the better of you when you hear Soonyoung’s next words:

“Right, speaking of Y/N, that reminds me. Did you hear that Y/N and Mingyu broke up?”

“Oh.” There’s a pause, and then you hear Wonwoo ask, “why?”

“Dunno. Mingyu wouldn’t give me any details. He said something lame, like that they’re better off as friends, or something.”

“Oh. When did this happen?”

“I think on Wednesday? At least that’s what Seungkwan told me.”

“Hm.”

“Anyways, isn’t that great? You can finally shoot your shot!”

“Are you insane, Soonyoung? It’s been less than a week!”

“Well, okay, fair. But next week? She didn’t seem too sad about it in class today.”

“That’s because she was in class. And anyways, this doesn’t change anything between us, so I’m not going to do anything either.”

“Are you kidding me? So you’re just going to keep it a secret forever?”

“Yeah. I’ll die before I tell Y/N that I’m in love with her.”

Oh.

You sit at your desk, staring at your monitor but not seeing anything. Very quietly, you press your fingers against your lips, as hard as you can, and feel the blood rushing past your ears. 

“I’m not going to ruin our friendship over nothing,” Wonwoo continues.

“It’s not nothing,” Soonyoung replies with a pout in his voice. “You’ve been in love with her for years. Since high school, at least.”

“She just sees me as a friend, that’s all,” Wonwoo sighs. 

Since high school. He’s loved you since high school.

You remember the way he looked at you after prom when he was dropping you back off at home. You had gone with him because the boy you wanted to ask you, some boring soccer player, had asked your friend instead, and Jaehyun had already asked (and been rejected by you) twice, and nobody else had asked you to be their prom date. And Wonwoo, awkward and quiet as he was, had fully expected to skip prom completely, but three days before you had shown up at his locker after school, desperate because you already had a dress and a group to go with and tickets but no date, practically begging him to go to prom with you. And without even thinking, Wonwoo had agreed.

That night, when he drive you home, you leaned your head against the car door with the windows rolled down and felt the wind on your face. At the end, when he parked his car on the side of the street in front of your childhood home, you looked over at him and told him. “I’m so glad we’re going to college together, Wonwoo. I want to be with you forever.”

And he had watched you as you said it, quiet, like he was breathless. Like you had said something terrible and incredible at the same time. 

It’s always been Wonwoo beside you, lazy summers spent playing video games, late night phone calls where you’d talk and he’d listen, after class in his car listening to the radio and eating junk food. Had he loved you then? With ketchup on your shirt and acne across your face and poorly box-dyed hair? And had you loved him then too? Before you even knew what love is?

The weight of it is heavy, settling in your stomach like a hot stone. It almost hurts, how much you feel.

You’re interrupted by a very loud spate of gunfire piercing your eardrums and making you jump,  shrieking loudly as you’re killed in-game. Onscreen, your bloodied character rolls limply down the hill as “Better luck next time! #2/48” flashes on top of your game stats.

“Aw, second place, so close,” you hear Wonwoo say. Then he pauses. “Wait. Was I not muted just now?”

“Wonwoo, I’m going downstairs,” you tell him.

“Wait–” his voice is tight and panicked, but you’re already tugging your headset off and grabbing your keys.

You nearly avoid tripping over your feet as you run to the stairwell at the end of the hall and fly down the two flights of stairs, to where Wonwoo is. By the time you’re banging at their door, you’re out of breath and flushed. You’re not sure if the pounding of your heart is from the exertion or if it’s from something else. Anxiety, maybe. Fear. Exhilaration.

Wonwoo answers the door. He looks exactly like you’d expect, with his rumpled tee shirt and sweatpants and bare feet, his glasses on and his bangs pushed back with the bunny shower headband you bought for him last year.

“Hi,” you grin breathlessly at him.

“Hi,” he replies.

“Can I come in?”

He takes a deep breath, like he’s steeling his nerves. “Yeah.” He opens the door wider and steps aside to let you in, and you follow Wonwoo to his room.

It’s dimly lit with the rainbow glow of his gaming setup and the ready screen for PUBG still up on one of his monitors. Wonwoo flicks on the overhead light, which throws the room into sharp relief. The sudden brightness makes everything feel more real, somehow. 

You sit on the edge of Wonwoo’s bed and pat the spot net to you, which he takes. “Wonwoo,” you say.

Wonwoo purses his lips. “How much of that did you hear earlier?”

“All of it,” you chew the inside of your cheek, drumming your fingers against the bedspread. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “You can pretend I didn’t say any of that.”

“Did you mean it?”

“Huh?” He stares at you with wide eyes.

“What you said earlier.” You pick at a loose thread poking from the hem of your shirt. “Did you mean it when you said you’re in love with me?”

He hesitates, frowning as a conflicted expression briefly flashes across his face, eyebrows drawing together. 

“Wonwoo?” You call his name gently to get his attention. “I’m in love with you too, Wonwoo.”

“I–what?” Wonwoo looks at you like you’ve brown another head. “But, you...  Mingyu?”

You furrow your brows at him. “Mingyu? Didn’t I tell you? We were just faking so he could win that Greek God competition and get free parking next semester.”

“Wait,” he sputters, “so all of that was fake? You were just pretending to be in a relationship?”

“Yeah. I don’t care about Mingyu, I have feelings for you, Wonwoo.”

“You.” Wonwoo takes a deep breath. “You didn’t tell me.”

“I did!” You widen your eyes, adamant. “At karaoke back in October. You, me, Minghao, and Junhui?” It had been after a particularly grueling set of midterms, and the four of you had gone out for some korean barbeque, followed by boba and an extended noraebang session. While Junhui was crooning to an old Cantonese ballad, you were squished on a couch with Minghao and Wonwoo, and the three of you were talking idly about Junhui’s most recent date.

It’s funny, you remember turning and mumbling to Wonwoo, did I ever tell you that Mingyu and I are faking our whole relationship for clout? But Wonwoo hadn’t responded, so you assumed that he didn’t care. Now, it’s looking more like he didn’t even hear you.

“I was asleep,” Wonwoo states in flat disbelief.

“You were asleep,” you repeat slowly.

“It was dark and I was tired. You didn’t notice that I passed out as soon as we dimmed the lights?” He raises his eyebrows as he defends himself, and you bury your face in your hands.

Click. The pieces are all falling in place.

“Wonwoo. I’m so dumb,” you moan. “I run the Ask Cherry column. All those messages from Junhui and Soonyoung. They were about you, weren’t they?”

“Messages? There were more after the first one?!”

“And they were about you being in love with me,” you recall. “This whole time, I thought you liked someone else. Someone who isn’t me.”

There’s a pause. You can hear the sound of Wonwoo’s PC whirring in the background. And then, Wonwoo starts laughing, choked and quiet at first, and then loud, incredulous, almost.

“God,” he gasps between laughs, “we’re both so, so stupid.” And then you’re laughing too.

In retrospect, it’s all ridiculous, this entire situation. You collapse back onto Wonwoo’s bed and laugh until your ribs hurt, and when you turn your head to the side, there’s Wonwoo laying beside you, glasses askew, grinning.

You giggle and reach out to straighten his glasses. “Hi,” you say to him.

“Hi,” he says back, getting up to lean on one elbow. “I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

You feel your smile widen so much, your cheeks hurt. “I’m in love with you, Jeon Wonwoo.”

He looks at you with so much fondness, it takes your breath away. It’s the way he’s always looked at you, you realize, since the two of you weren’t much more than a pair of kids.

“So, now what?”

“Hmm.” You pretend to think. “Can you kiss me about it, then?”

Wonwoo nods, and his hair flops over the bunny headband as he moves his head. “Yeah,” he says, “I think I can do that.”

.

.

.

(Afterwards, a lot less changes with your relationship with Wonwoo than you thought. After all, he was your best friend for much, much longer than he’s been your boyfriend. He still sends you cat videos at strange hours of the night, and he still sticks sullenly by your side during social outings. Friday nights are still game nights, of course, but now it’s mostly spent on your shared Stardew Valley co-op or cuddling in bed while playing Pokemon together. 

But one thing that changes is the kisses. You kiss Wonwoo whenever you can, because you have so much love to give him and not enough time in the day to tell him all the ways you love him. You try, though, to tell him every moment you can that he’s the cutest, smartest, sweetest, kindest, funniest boy in the world, and that he’s the best friend and boyfriend you could ever ask for.

Wonwoo has a harder time with his feelings, but you know, even without saying. It’s in the way that his fingers linger over your hand when he drops you off in front of your classroom, and the way he gives you first pick on all the best loot when you’re gaming together. And when it’s really late at night and the two of you are huddled under the blankets together, listening to the way your heartbeats collide, he whispers it too. “I love you.”

And, Minghao finally admits it. “Fine,” he grumbles reluctantly while the two of you are preparing the upcoming edition of Ask Cherry, “maybe you’re qualified to give love advice after all.”)

[bubbleteaimagines]

You Can Rest Now

Levi Ackerman Oneshot

Summary: People often wonder why Levi’s so cold. For a man that’s lost everything, it’s not so hard to see

Pairings: Levi Ackerman x Reader

Warnings: Ansgt, gore, death

Authors Note: I got this idea suddenly and decided to break my heart

there was speculation. there was always speculation, but none more about levi ackerman.

the short man had a notorious reputation. he was cruel, nonchalant and just generally didn’t seem to care.

he was different. cold. so cold in fact, that death didn’t even seem to faze him. he could watch someone die and be fine the next minute.

but was he? it seemed so.

all the recruits admired his bravery and strength, but they feared his attitude.

what had made him so cold, exactly? so...closed up? who or what had turned his heart into stone, causing him to shut out the world around him so easily?

how did he do it?

why did he do it?

what had caused him to snap?

it was simple, really. levi had made a mistake. long ago, when he was foolish enough to still believe in love and happiness in this retched world. long ago before he realized that love made you weak, he make the mistake of loving someone in this cruel, cruel, world.

-

flashback —

“shit! y/n, they’re gaining on us!”

after three years in the survey corps, you could safely say that those words were anything but a good sign. scratch that, those words were the worst thing to hear out in the field. an omen of death, if you will, but you tried not to think about that as you furrowed your eyebrows and gripped your horse’s reigns tightly.

“how close?” you made the mistake of asking your comrade. a lump grew in your throat as you guys trekked across empty land. no trees, no buildings, absolutely nowhere to even think about using your 3dmg gear.

“i...,” he was at a loss of words. neither of you dared to look back, so he had to go off of the thumping footsteps that were getting closer and closer. “i reckon in the next minute or so they’ll be...”

“got it,” you pursed your lips together, not wanting him to finish that sentence. you knew what was coming. you both did. the very ground beneath you shook due to the titan’s footsteps. the monsters that you had been battling your whole damn life. “you ready to kick some ass, then?”

“always.” his voice was weak, his hands trembling as he reached for his swords. but his spirit had not yet been broken. neither had yours.

the footsteps were getting closer.

“i say we stay in rank but finish this thing off. then we’ll speed up and catch the others in case some more come,” you told him

anxiety pooled in your stomach as you thought about the rest of the soldiers. wrong place, wrong time, you knew that. but you couldn’t help it — your mind flashed images of him and you couldn’t help but feel scared for him, wondering if he had made it back to the wall safe or if he was still stuck on the ground, like you.

levi was a much better fighter than you. he was fast, efficient, and a valuable fighter. humanity needed him, and he had to be kept safe to fight another day.

that was the only reason you guys had been split up. he was on the special forces team, you weren’t. a damn good soldier you were but you were needed on the outer side of the formation, you were needed to protect levi.

after two years, he still hated the idea of you risking your life to protect him. he had fought tooth and nail with you and just about everybody else to keep you safe, to keep you next to him at all times. but commander erwin wouldn’t allow it. he couldn’t, levi was needed to save humanity. you weren’t.

you guys had had this argument time and time again. and time after time, you had reassured him that you would make it back. that he would always find your tired but yet still smiling face waiting for him on top of the walls.

why should this time be any different?

“let’s move!”

before you could even think, you had a ten meter titan lunging at you causing you to yelp and yank your horse out of the way. the beast whined in terror, it’s fear possibly rivaling your own. unfortunately though, that didn’t cause it to go any faster. you were gonna be forced to take it down yourself — you wouldn’t be able to outrun it all the way back to the wall.

“y/n!” your comrade yelled as you were swiped at again. this time though, you stood up on your horse and launched yourself at the titan, your gear lodging itself in it’s shoulders.

“keep moving! i’ll take care of this!” you yelled out to him.

letting out an angry cry, you whipped around the creature at astonishing speeds and aimed straight at the back of it’s neck.

a routine kill, that’s all this was.

fire danced behind your eyes while the creature moaned and swatted it’s hands at you. 36, that was your number of solo kills. and soon, it was 37.

“take that you fat bastard,” you yelled and sliced it right in the weak spot, never missing a beat as you carved up the flesh. blood splattered everywhere from the fatal wound and steamed as it got on your face and clothes. the titan went limp, and soon you propelled yourself back to the ground and back on your horse.

“well, looks like petra and me are tied. can’t wait to tell her,” you grinned as you carried on riding, your partner sighing in relief.

“you really are one of the best, you know that? you totally just saved our asses,” he grinned back at you.

“yeah, and you’d do well not to forget it,” you chuckled. “next time there’s cake, i want-”

“Y/N LOOK OUT!”

there was a scream, and then there was a sudden pressure as an abnormal came leaping out of nowhere and hit you dead on.

you didn’t have time to react. you barely even had time to scream before everything went to shit, your horse flying away from you and you — oh god. your comrade screamed as you flew through the air, and appeared again only as you were clutched in the titan’s mouth.

“w-what?” you couldn’t move. your vision was blurry from the hit but what you could feel was it’s breath. blindingly hot, and rancid. you had a first row seat as you hung from the monster’s jaws, everything from your waist and below clutched tightly in it’s teeth.

“y/n, no!” the strangled cry of your fellow comrade was all too familiar. it was a helpless cry, one you had heard many times from many different people. it was a cry of death, a cry of sorrow if you will. it was the type of sound people made when they were face to face with death.

“son of bitch,” you moaned as you lifted your head up, your (e/c) eyes meeting the bright blue ones of the titan. “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

of all the ways to die, of all the times and situations, this just had to be it. with your luck, you were gonna be split in half by the ugliest goddamn titan you had ever seen.

“fuck me.”

dread pooled in your stomach.

as you stared down your killer, as you stared down death itself, only one thought crossed your mind.

“c-comrade,” you glared as the titan opened it’s mouth to devour you. “g-get out of here! you don’t need to see this!”

“y/n no! i’m coming!” he desperately clung to his gear, standing on his horse and preparing to take down the monster that was gonna kill his teammate. he couldn’t let that happen. he wouldn’t.

but you weren’t gonna let him die either. not whilst you were still alive.

“comrade! i said go! i’m the leader of this team so that’s an order!” you screamed at the solider causing him to freeze in place.

“no,” he whispered, watching as the monster’s jaws came down.

it was as if it were in slow motion. the universe dragging it out just so he could witness every detail. the moment you screamed profanities at the titan, promising that you’d see it in hell one day. the moment you ripped off your cape, letting one last piece of you remain on this earth. the moment you screamed for levi, yelling one last time how much you loved him.

the moment the titan’s jaws finally came down, cutting you in half.

everything stood still after that. time stopped completely, and your comrade couldn’t even scream, couldn’t even cry out for you as your eyes finally fluttered closed and your body went limp.

you were gone.

-

levi paced anxiously as he stood on top of wall maria. he had his hands behind his back, but his eyes were on full alert, searching the terrain in front of him for any signs of life.

for any signs of you.

levi didn’t understand. it had been well past an hour, and everyone had made it back except for your squad.

it wasn’t even a squad, really. just two people — so how could two people possibly be taking this long?

“captain, you should calm down. i’m sure y/n is gonna be fine,” petra placed a gentle hand on his shoulder but it did nothing to sooth levi.

“if they were fine they’d be back by now,” he snapped, his eyes darkening.

he didn’t want to admit it but levi was starting to lose hope. being gone for this long usually only meant one thing — but he refused to think about that. he refused to even let the thought cross his mind, shoving it so far back it was practically non existent. levi couldn’t think like that. he wouldn’t.

because it was no question whether you were okay or not. you had to be, there were no other options. no other scenarios other than you coming back alive and safe.

“captain—”

“silence!”

levi strained his ears as he heard hooves in the distance. he perked up.

it was the sound of a horse, most definitely. in fact, it was the sound of two horses, and in the distance he could see them galloping towards the wall, a titan right behind them and the lone rider.

levi’s heart swelled with hope.

“y/n!”

he was breathless as he ran towards the edge of the wall, igorning his fellow soldiers protests. extracting his swords, he quickly cascaded down the wall towards the person, hoping beyond hope that it was you.

commander erwin held out a hand to stop anyone from following him.

“don’t,” he warned, seeing how levi’s squad was gearing up. “this one’s for him.”

levi had never felt more eager in his life to escape into titan territory. quickly, he flew towards the rider and practically tackled them as he reached them.

“y/n, you—”

levi stopped dead in his tracks. confused, he tilted his head as he saw the grief-stricken face of your partner, but not you. in fact, you were nowhere in sight as the titan’s footsteps got louder.

“soldier, you had someone with you, yes? where is y/n?” levi demanded, completely ignoring the haunted and agonized expression of the solider.

“c-captain...i...,” how did he get the words out? how did your comrade look his captain in the eyes and tell him that you were gone — lost to the titan on a simple mission.

“well? we don’t have all pissant. spit it out,” levi snapped, becoming irritated at the lack of response.

where were you? if you hadn’t come back with your partner, then where the hell where you?

the soilder’s mouth moved but levi barely heard anything he said.

perhaps it was because he wasn’t standing close enough. or perhaps the titan’s thunderous footsteps drowned it out. or perhaps...it was because levi heard something he didn’t want to hear.

“dead?” levi tilted his head as if it were a foreign word. as if he had never heard the word before, when in reality it was probably the most used word in his vocabulary. “what do you mean y/n is...dead?”

the pieces didn’t fit. the word ‘dead’ and ‘you’ were apart of two completely different puzzles; they didn’t fit together. it was too wrong, too confusing for levi’s brain to pick up.

“t-they’re gone, sir,” the solider spit out painfully, letting out a wail. “w-we were on flat ground...the titan came out of nowhere...the abnormal...”

“shut up,” levi held his hand up as the pieces began to mold themselves. slowly, they transformed to fit each other.

“i-i’m sorry sir,” the soldier stammered, “t-they’re gone. they left this behind...but their body—”

“I SAID SHUT UP!” levi growled as anger began to flow through him, his fists twitching. the solider flinched back as levi’s death glare settled on him, burning holes through his skull.

“where do you get off on this? HUH?” levi yelled as he grabbed the man roughly, yanking him off of is horse. the beast whined in fear as the titan approached, but levi ignored it. instead, he focused on the red spots in his vision, pushing away the pain. pushing away the imagery that followed the solider’s words. all that was left of you was a cape...

“i’ll have you executed for this you bastard! you lying piece of shit—”

“CAPTAIN LEVI!” levi’s attention was diverted as commander erwin yelled out his name. briefly, he turned his attention to the wall where his fellow comrades and commander stood, horrified, “YOU HAVE A SITUATION!”

levi tore his gaze away from erwin and glanced over his shoulder. fast approaching was the titan that had followed the solider to the wall. an abnormal by the looks of it, with blood splattered all over it’s mouth.

levi felt his heart stop.

in the moment, it suddenly became real. he glanced at the solider’s terrified face, the cape in his arms that had your initials printed on it, and then back at the titan.

everything hit him at once.

and levi snapped.

“YOU BASTARD!”

he retracted his blades, squared his shoulders, and then zoomed off to battle the titan that that had murdered you. the love of his life.

levi saw red as an animalistic scream left him, his entire vision clouded with crimson as he made his target and slashed. levi slashed until there was nothing more to slash, the titan long dead and already dissolving by the time he was done.

“YOU ASSHOLE! YOU TOOK THEM! YOU FUCKING BASTARD!”

“CAPTAIN! soldier, you need to restrain him and get back over the wall, NOW!” commander erwin shouted.

more titan’s were approaching. too many people were standing by the walls. too much prey.

but levi didn’t care. he was angry, hurt, and beyond the levels of revenge. his blades were stained with the blood of your murderer. he wouldn’t be able to rest if he didn’t end them all, right then and there.

“CAPTAIN LEVI! WE NEED TO GO!”

levi ignored the solider’s plea and stood his ground, hatred burning behind his eyes. he’d kill them, he’d kill every last one of them for what they did to you. his life be damned.

in that moment, it didn’t matter that humanity needed him.

he needed to avenge you.

“FALL BACK! DO NOT ENGAGE! I REPEAT, DO NOT ENGAGE! EVERYBODY STAND BACK!”

levi braced himself for the attack. he was running on pure hatred now.

he was dangerous when he was calm. but he was unstoppable when he was deadset on getting revenge for the one person he had left to care about.

“holy shit—”

“no way—”

“did he just?—”

all around levi was blood. crimson red soaked him to the bone, pouring over every inch of his body. it rained on him, like a sadistic waterfall carved out by levi’s sword.

but it wasn’t his.

none of it, not a single drop of the blood was his.

levi sheathed his now broken swords and leaned down to retrieve the only thing not soaked with titan blood. the only thing that wasn’t stained or reminded him of their treacherous, godforsaken existence.

“i did it,” he whispered, clutching your cape tightly. he held the fabric in his trembling hands, holding it over his heart as a way to hold you close— one last time.

“i killed that thing. you can rest now.”

[citrinesparkles]

cat.

jason todd, eventually x gender neutral reader. 1,388 words. notes: this is part one of i don't even know how many and i cannot believe how wildly out of hand this got. this was a 500 word idea and it's gonna be at least three parts someone help (thanks to @angelz-dust for being so patient with me and encouraging on this!!! would never have made it out of the drafts without you <3) warnings: danger to kids, mention of a couple arguing, animal illness (spoiler alert: it'll be fine i Promise), a little (lot) different than my usual edit: part two here!

"let me be perfectly clear: if you even think about showing back up here, i will know, and i will make your life a living hell until i finally put you out of your misery. understood?"

"yes! yeah man i get it. understood."

"then i'd get going, if i were you." the man scrambled to his feet and bolted off across the playground, leaving jason to shout after him. "and warn any buddies you might have, too!"

he picked up the discarded knife and pocketed it. he then turned around slowly, hands visibly empty in a careful attempt not to scare the two kids behind him- well, careful not to make it worse, anyway. they, understandably, seemed a little shaken already.

"are you both alright?" he asked softly, slouching just a little to seem as harmless as possible.

probably would have been easier if they hadn't just watched him threaten someone.

the older kid- probably fifteen, if jason had to place a bet- nodded silently before glancing back at the little girl he was still hovering in front of protectively, who was just... staring.

she couldn't have been older than six.

"jazz?" the boy asked, voice tight. "are you hurt?"

he was ignored. "are you superman?"

the question, innocent and earnest and a little timid, made jason laugh. "not quite, kiddo."

she tilted her head like a curious puppy, furrowing her brow. "why are you wearing a jacket?"

jason glanced up at the boy, who seemed comforted by her mini interrogation. good.

talking was a good sign, too, so jason crouched down to meet her at eye level.

"because it gets cold out here!" he said, raising his hands up with a small wiggle of his fingers. "gloves, too."

"well, duh," jazz said with a giggle- a win, jason thought. "no fingerprints."

he nodded. "also helpful."

"and the hat to hide your face!" she said proudly, stepping forward a little to point at his helmet.

"wow, you've got the whole thing figured out, huh?"

"mhm! my friend ricky loves batman and his friends. he talks about batman and nightwing and spoiler and robin and red robin and red hood and batgirl all the time! they hide their faces like you, ricky thinks it's because of bad guys."

"they're kinda cool, huh?"

"nightwing's my favorite," she said firmly, as though it was something she had considered at great length and was fully prepared to defend.

"not red hood?" jason smacked a hand to his chest in mock hurt, shifting back dramatically. "i'm crushed, truly."

"no, ricky says red hood used to be an alien, but then got bored and now he annoys batman for fun instead. that sounds mean."

...well, okay, maybe he did annoy the big guy for fun a little. "that's an interesting theory, all right."

"ricky's got all kinds of theories. he thinks batman's a robot-" jason snorted- "and that nightwing was like pinochle."

"you mean pinocchio," the boy corrected quietly. "pinochle's what gramma plays."

"pinocchio!" she exlaimed, with a "ch" sound in the middle that made jason smile. "a doll that got turned human. that's how he does all the flips and stuff, he's got magic."

"hm, ricky seems like an interesting guy," jason said thoughtfully, making a big show of rubbing the chin of his helmet. "what do y-"

he was cut off by a loud, insistent meow, and jazz gasping even louder before taking off to the bushes.

"w- hey, don't rush off like that!" he said, shooting up off the ground as the boy sighed.

"there's this cat that she's been taking care of," he explained quietly. "the thing's got attitude for days but i think it's sick or something. jasmine's been bringing it little bits of tuna and chicken, but it's not like we can get it to a vet."

jason hummed. "why do you think it's sick?"

"it's thin, with its eyes all watery and sunk."

"might just be malnourished," he muttered.

"she's been trying to find it a home, y'know."

there was a wink-wink-nudge-nudge quality to the kid's voice that did not go unnoticed.

on one hand, it was good to hear something other than fear from him, but on the other... "what part of the tactical armor makes you think i'm an option?"

"the part where you just stuck around to check on us instead of running after that guy."

okay. maybe the quiet thing hadn't been so bad. the cocky 'amateur psychologist' thing was a little grating.

"you the real red hood?" the kid asked suddenly, shaking jason from his internal grumbling.

"what do you think?"

"i think you just saved our lives, and i wanna know who i'm thanking."

jason turned to him with a flourish. "red hood, baby saver extraordinaire. at your service."

"baby- dude, i'm seventeen!"

okay, so he would have lost his bet. "noted. still a baby, trust me."

"what are you under there, twenty something? whatever, grandpa."

jason chuckled, turning back to watch jasmine pet a small cat under one of the yellow lights littering the park. "you did well, looking out for her with that guy. you got a name?"

he scoffed. "would've been better if i'd kicked him between the legs right when he opened his mouth, instead of letting him get started on the whole 'what're you kids doing out so late?' bit," he muttered darkly, pausing for a moment before answering. "my name's jordan."

"well, jordan, what are you guys doing out so late?"

"mom works nights, and the neighbors were fighting. it was loud enough to wake jazz up, and it wasn't the kind of thing she needed to hear. i figured a trip to see her cat would be less awful than hearing them call each other things i wouldn't even call my friends." the breeze picked up, rustling the trees and catching on jason's jacket. "and then the asshole with the knife decided to make a bad night worse."

"is jazz your sister?"

"yeah, she's a good kid," jordan said, fond and warm. "sorry about the whole ricky thing, though. he's obsessed with those vigilante conspiracy videos and tells her all about them at school."

"no, no, it's fine. i can't wait to tell wing about his new origin story, he'll love that."

jasmine suddenly came bounding back towards them, grabbing their hands and yanking them to follow her. "c'mon, you need to meet cat!"

"you call it cat?"

jordan bristled subtly. "is there a problem with that, red?"

"no, no, it's an appropriate name. just making sure." jason waved his spare hand at his head. "helmet makes me hear things sometimes."

jordan opened his mouth, but his sister plowed right over whatever he was going to say, pulling on jason's hand again. "cat, meet... what's your name?"

"red hood."

"you can't be red hood!" she whirled around, indignantly putting her hands on her hips. "there's already a red hood in gotham. besides, you're not even wearing a hood, so it doesn't fit anyway."

jason turned his head to jordan, who was smiling- a good sign, but probably a bad omen for whatever he was about to say. "she's right, man. it's not a hood."

"tough crowd," jason muttered. "uh... then you can call me, uh-"

"bucket!" jasmine suggested happily, tapping his helmet. "because this looks like a bucket."

if there was one thing vigilantism had taught him, it was that sometimes you actually do need to pick your battles. this...

this was not worth fighting.

"sure, fine, whatever. hi, cat, i'm red bucket." he turned away from the kids- both of whom looked entirely too happy about the whole 'bucket' thing, he thought- and crouched down to finally look at the cat.

it did look a little sick, actually.

it was gray, and thin, and-

and now it was headbutting his knee like it was trying to push him over.

"cat likes you!" jazz cheered.

"sure does," jordan said pointedly. "isn't that interesting?"

jason opened his mouth, but his snarky comment died in his throat when the cat settled down right in front of him and blinked slowly up at him with a sweet tilt to its head.

...shit.

just- shit.

he sighed, standing up and looking back to jordan and his stupid, entirely-too-pleased-with-himself grin. "so, jazz," jason grumbled reluctantly, "where does cat live?"

[a-stone-in-flight]

WOW @orangeswithsquirrelfaces your mind is something else! it was so much fun to read your more than slightly wacky and wise thoughts (and Tumblr sucks for deleting the initial version, but the quality of your writing is very impressive).

here's my response to your response to my response to your response to my response to your respinse to my post (lol for sure):

oh my godd baptizing frittatas with wild geese?? reverse cremation?? of an alligator?? and then an ex-con raccoon??? now that would be the best party ever. my only question is whether the firework permit rumor was true (and I love the idea of someone throwing such a wild and bizarre party but still making sure to ask for permission for fireworks)

also, your puns are objectively wonderful and I cannot be convinced otherwise :)

as for everything being a lamp: not sure if i agree but I am definitely quoting you on that.

that alarm clock (if it can even be called that) is uh definitely mildly excessive. and migraines are definitely the worst enemy

morse code is cool and at one point i memorized the whole alphabet (and punctuation) but it slipped out of my head like a party guest who heard there wouldn't be any frittatas. however i am evilly jotting down your one true weakness and will evilly use it against you in a very evil way mwahahaha

i also agree abt symbolism making everything better. well, to an extent. imagine if EVERYTHING was symbolic - what if we're all trapped in a story what if the computer I'm writing this on represents the slow corruption and destabilization of humanity and our growing dependence on technology and it dying on me will foreshadow our INEVITABLE DOOM or what if the sweater I'm wearing is symbolic of uhh familial love and if I take it off it'll be a betrayal of that or uhh if the tree outside my window is a symbolic manifestation of the increasingly fragile influence of nature in suburbia, reaching up enough to touch glass but not breaking through to us WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN

mightve gotten a bit carried away there but yeah symbolism >>

and same everything tends to get existential with me too sooner or later and i definitely dont mind it. what would life be without reflecting on it? how could we live well without pondering how to live? idrk but i think existentialism is an inherent and necessary part of existence.

and holy wow thank you for your sharing your thoughts on change and creativity. that's a rly beautiful way to see it. your writing is so poetic and thoughtful and thought-provoking. if that's your rambling, idk if i could process planned writing.

also, speaking of narcissus, i had no idea that the flower itself didn't couldn't actually grow near water. that is incredibly fascinating and adds another layer to the story, imo.

have you ever read "the alchemist" by paulo coehlo? it starts with someone reading a story abt narcissus, in which the lake becomes salty (or saltea lol) after his death bc the lake cries at the loss of him, not because he was beautiful, but bc the lake could see its own beauty in his eyes.

things like that are so compelling, and they make me wonder if the inclusion of nature in the story is a veneer hiding smth else — a truth abt humanity, and its obsession with itself. lakes don't love seeing themselves in another's eyes — but humans do. to see yourself through someone else, to know who you are when you're with them — to see your faults and your flaws and your strength and your beauty and someone being there with you, for you, sharing a moment — I think that's what that story is about. I love the version of narcissus' story in "the alchemist," and particularly the way it's not just there without context, but included in the story, the way a character reads it and finds it lovely. is it lovely to turn a one-sided and punishable obsession into an impossible mutual fascination of self-recognition in another? I think so.

idk if you've seen good omens, but one of the reasons I love the main character's dynamic is how well it portrays that concept. in an interview, I think one of the actors was asked "what's aziraphale's favorite thing abt crowley?" and he responded "I can see myself in your eyes" (or smth like that, I can't remember the exact phrasing.) and in this story they've known each other for millennia, been each other's constant through wars and deaths and losses, seen each other at their best and at their worst, and learned from each other. and crowley usually wears reflective sunglasses to hide his demon eyes, so in public, aziraphale can always see himself when he looks at crowley — a buttoned-up, prim and proper angel. but when they're alone together and crowley takes off his glasses, aziraphale sees himself in a different way — more distorted, yet more accurate. someone crowley trusts with the truth of him. someone worth crowley's trust, after countless mistakes. and that tells him more abt himself than looking in the mirror ever would.

also, have u ever read ocean vuong's writing? I think in his novel "on earth we're briefly gorgeous" he mentions the allegory of narcissus, and how a professor said that it represented homosexuality and an unhealthy obsession with oneself. which, so much eugh to unpack there, but what ocean vuong said abt it was something incredible:

"Maybe we look into mirrors not merely to seek beauty, regardless how illusive, but to make sure, despite the facts, that we are still here. That the hunted body we move in has not yet been annihilated, scraped out. To see yourself still yourself is a refuge men who have not been denied cannot know."

using nature as a symbol of that, comparing a human reassuring themself that they're still there to a flower impossibly growing, is something natural. something beautiful, even. because flowers don't do that, lakes don't do that — but humans do, because we need to, because it's built into us. as beautiful as the red orange flame of autumn, as fickle and predictable as the changing of weather, as natural as the pitter patter of raindrops, humans come and go, live and die, ask themselves who am I? and if they're lucky, they find the answer in another. (or just with introspection obv ppl don't need romantic connection to be fulfilled lol)

I've never thought abt change the way you do — honestly, I've resented change more often than not. when I'm in a happy moment, I always want it to last forever. I never want good things to end, and even though it's inevitable, it always feels like a betrayal when they do.

but youre completely right, and I love the way you put it. no story would be good if the protagonist was always happy and never did anything different. change and chaos do brings new beginnings, new adventures, and new joy. and I'd like to believe that change will always exist, that it's impossible for the universe to become stagnant as long as there's life in it (ignoring the eventual the heat death of the universe or wtvr). then again, someone very wise once said "everything is a lamp," and all lamps turn off eventually :(

anyway, I should also hit the hay (that expression always feels so fun and whimsical) thank u for sharing your wise thoughts and your funny ones — reading them is definitely such a blast. if you read through my disjointed rambles thank you so much :) I hope you're having a good day/night!

EDIT: just wanna share a couple relevant and objectively funny comic strips on these topics

characters of all time

[flautistsandpeonies]

Prominence Part 1

Read My Prompt [Here]

Word Length: 2,710

Tags: Not for JC Fans, JC’s Canon Characteristics, Not for Madam Yu Fans, Madam Yu Canon Characteristics, Not Jiang Friendly, No Sunshot Campaign, Original Character, Vampires

Almost everyone had heard of Wei WuXian. Picked up from the streets of Yiling at the age of nine and brought to YunmengJiang to be trained amongst its disciples, the orphan was a reoccurring topic through the many sects, taverns, brothels, and businesses of china. For thirteen years, the young cultivator sparked many a sordid story and salacious talks of infidelity, bastard children, bloodlines, and even sword naming of all things.

Some thought positively of the young cultivator, wondering of his promise and imaging what he might accomplish with his cultivation. Others saw the prodigy as a blight on the normal way of life, an arrogant servant who didn’t understand his station. Both acknowledged his strength with a sword, his intelligence, and wit.

All in all, it was common to talk about the young master, whether it was scorn or adoration, it was almost impossible to not pass by one person and not hear the name “Wei WuXian” on their lips.

Especially now...

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

The YunmengJiang Sect was hosting a discussion conference next month.

‘Not surprising, ‘Lan Qiren thought as he set the missive down, ‘Considering the situation’

The letter was short and concise, the way he preferred them. Jiang Fengmian meant to clear up some “misconceptions and rumors” about sudden events and offer a chance to the young disciples of the sects.

A two week discussion conference was to be held, the first dedicated to multiple lectures and the second a week long night-hunting competition.

Sitting to his right, Lan XiChen picked up the letter with inquisitive eyes and stared to peruse. After few minutes, he smiled and set the paper back down on the table with a hum.

“Young Master Wei has certainly come a long way, “XiChen smiled, “Will we attend?”

“There is no reason not to, “Lan Qiren stroked his beard, “It is an opportunity to learn something new, so we shouldn’t squander this opportunity...no matter how unseemly the events surrounding it are.”

While gossip was forbidden in the Cloud Recesses, it certainly was not in Caiyi Town. The many shop and tavern goers always had something new to talk about almost everyday, spreading rumors from the farthest brothels in Runan to the classiest restaurant in Laoling. Due to the town’s proximity to the Lan Sect, it’s disciples often picked up on the gossip whether they wanted to or not.

Lan XiChen gave a slight wince, knowing what his uncle was referring to due to his recent trip to the Unclean Realm, “I...have heard about Young Master Jiang’s injury.”

For the past couple of weeks, the YunmengJiang Sect was the talk of the Cultivation and Civilian worlds. It started with a simple event that exploded into a frenzy of rumors and tales.

Wei WuXian, Head Disciple to YunmengJiang, had recently published several cultivation manuals and even a few night-hunting tools. Now, this, while completely normal, did raise a few brows as no one expected someone so young to suddenly put multiple books out on cultivation. However, no one who truly cared about learning batted an eye and went at the books with a critical eye.

To name a few, there was:

Talismans for the Everyday Life The Hunter: Archery and Tracking Talismans Musical Cultivation: The Difference between the Xiao and Dizi The Stygian Lure Flag and Demon Wind Compass: Uses and Dangers

Due to the books being sold by a well-known and influential merchant, the books were being sold in small shops throughout the cultivation world in the matter of days. The books contained many research notes from various night-hunts, creation processes, and even notes on the failures and set backs found during the research phase; it would be an understatement to say they were a huge success and cultivators sought out these items as soon as they got wind of them.

The problems started soon after.

Everyone who wasn’t living under a rock knew how troublesome the marriage between the Jiang Sect Leader and his madam was. An arranged marriage that left neither participant with any benefits, the two were not a good fit. Even worse, the amount of gossip surrounding the home life of the Jiangs left many secretly wondering how they were still married, no matter how unpractical a divorce would be.

The Violet Spider’s reaction to the books and tools was not pleasant. Having been out on a night-hunt with her son at the time of their publication, she apparently found out by word of mouth. Customers at a restaurant in Ouyang having described the woman shouting in rage, destroying the table of a couple of rogue cultivators, and then rushing out with her heir and retinue.

As the Madam stormed her home, the doors to the sect were left wide open and the close distance to the civilians gave everyone a view of Yu ZiYuan shouting down her husband. Jiang Fengmian’s supposed infidelity and favoring of a bastard child were aired out once again for all in Lotus Pier to hear.

Even worse was the reaction of the heir, Jiang WanYin. Having been given Zidian by the Violent Spider for their night-hunt, the young heir took the whip to his da-shixiong, and the young author ended up brandishing his sword to defend himself. The end result of the fight left Jiang WanYin with a broken arm, and rumors spread that the Madam was now seeking to throw Wei WuXian from the sect.

Truly unpleasant.

Lan Qiren sighed, “Regardless, the Jiang Sect is offering for us to learn directly from Wei WuXian, and the competition their holding would be great experience for the junior disciples.”

Lan XiChen nodded in agreement, “Then I’ll look at our list of disciples and choose whom to take with us.”

Standing, Lan XiChen fixed his robes and then bowed to his uncle, “I have other duties to attend to, but I’ll get to the list as soon as possible. I’ll ask WangJi if he will attend as well. Do you need anything before I go, uncle?”

Shaking his head, Lan Qiren replied, “All is well. I will see you and WangJi later tonight.”

Watching his nephew leave, the elder Lan flicked his beard before standing and fixing his robes. Walking over to his bookshelf, he retrieved one of the newest additions to his personal library.

“Dao: Golden Cores and the many Paths of Cultivation by Wei WuXian”

Having acquired the book from his youngest nephew, Lan Qiren would never admit to having lost sleep trying to finish the book. Giving a thoughtful look at the materials, Lan Qiren couldn’t help but give a huff of amusement.

‘It seems that boy has learned some discipline after all.’

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

The air around Lotus Pier was tense.

Purple clad disciples shuffled into each other, eyes downcast as they bowed at the retinue to Nie disciples, their sect leader, and second heir.

“Chifeng-zun, Second Young Master Nie, “a lower disciple said almost in a whisper, “Welcome to Lotus Pier.”

Nie Mingjue couldn’t help but frown as the Yunmeng disciples tittered about the gates, whispering amongst themselves. Servants quickly tended to their luggage, hastily informing them of where they would be staying for the discussion conference before scurrying off. Some of their faces were ashen and jittery, as if staying in one place for too long would bring some omen upon them.

‘Perhaps coming was a mistake, ‘he thought

“Da-ge, “the Nie Sect Leader looked to his little brother, “I don’t like this. I really don’t like this.”

“What? You want to go back to the Unclean Realm, “MingJue rasied an eyebrow

“No!, “Huaisang almost screamed in reply, “I...I’m worried about Wei-Xiong.”

Standing in the training ground with their disciples, the Nie brothers watched as disciples and servants alike scurried through the halls of Lotus Pier. All had their heads held downward as if they didn’t want to be noticed.

Nie Huaisang gave his brother a worried frown, “I’ve tried sending letters to Wei-Xiong before we came. The courier told me that Wei-Xiong was to be in seclusion until the discussion conference tomorrow.”

Returning his brother’s look, “Nie MingJue turned to observe the people of Lotus Pier once more

There were a couple disciples on the training grounds practicing their swordsmanship while others were a ways away practicing their archery. The sword training was going poorly, he observed, watching each disciple flinch as the loud *THUMP* of arrows hitting posts reached their ears.

The sight gave him a foreboding feeling.

“Nie Zongzhu, “Nie MingJue turned at the sound

“Jiang Zongzhu, “he nodded at the smiling man, “Thank you for this opportunity.”

“No need, “Jiang Fengmian shook his head, “This type of knowledge should be shared”

Jiang Fengmian turned to look at his training disciples. At the sight of their flinching, the man frowned at sighed.

Nie Huaisang walked to stand beside his brother, eyeing the Jiang Sect Leader.

“Is...is Wei-Xiong alright?, “Nie Huaisang asked while tightly gripping his fan

Jiang Fengmian paused, thinking for a bit, “Ah.....a-Xian is preparing for tomorrow.”

“Is that why he went into seclusion?, “he questioned

“It’s..., “the Jiang Sect Leader sighed, “I’m afraid that’s a personal matter, Second Young Master Nie.”

“But he’s okay, right?, “Nie Huaisang pressed

“He’s fine, “Jiang Fengmian’s smile returned, “You’ve known a-Xian for years. He’s always smiling no matter the adversity.”

Huaisang frowned at the reply, “Yeah...he’s...he’s really great.”

Placing a hand on his littler brother’s back, Nie MingJue nodded at Jiang Fengmian and started to lead his brother away, “Till tomorrow, Sect Leader Jiang.”

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

The first week of the discussion conference seemed to go by in a flash. Each day was dedicated to a specific topic, invention, and/or book, Wei WuXian going into detail and answering any and all questions.

“Young Master Wei, do you intend to publish more?, “a sect leader asked one day

Smiling, Wei WuXian replied, “With more time and research, I plan to improve upon what I’ve already written, but more ideas will follow, I’m sure.”

After each lecture, minor sect leaders clamored to talk with the young man. Others sequestered Jiang Fengmian to a corner, talking up the young man and inquiring about tutoring for their heirs.

“My son is young and brash, perhaps a couple of week under Young Master Wei’s tutelage would straighten him out.”

“Jiang Zongzhu, my daughter has recently come of age and I was looking into decent matches for her. If you’d be inclined, I could get in touch with a matchmaker?”

The first seven days were almost repetitive in this way. Soon, however, the lectures came to an end and the final banquet before the competition was underway.

Like with the lectures, minor sect leaders cornered the Jiang Sect Leader and hounded him with questions and offers. The Jiang Sect Leader could only sigh and smile while he tried to talk down and placate the people around him.

Unlike with the lectures, disciples now felt more comfortable talking to the young Jiang cultivator now that wine was being circulated. Laughing and chatting up the young man, Wei WuXian found himself talking with disciples from multiple sects at once.

The banquet continued like this for a couple more hours. Both sect leader and head disciple moving about the room to talk to as many people as possible before the night’s end.

Said head disciple was currently talking with the leaders of the Lan contingent.

Wei WuXian, “Lan Zhan! It’s been far too long; how are you?”

Lan WangJi, “Wei Ying, “he nodded, “I am well”

Wei WuXian laughed, “That’s great!”

Facing the other two, he asked, “Lan-Laoshi, Zewu-jun, how are you?”

“We’re well, Young Master Wei, “Lan XiChen replied, “It’s been a long time since we’ve last spoken.”

‘It has, “Wei WuXian, “the last was back during the Qishan Archery Competition, wasn’t it?”

“Five years, “Lan Qiren replied, “You seem to have grown.”

“Ah, Lan-laoshi, “Wei WuXian gave a smirk, “Is that a compliment?”

Giving the younger man a blank look, Lan Wiren sighed before walking a little ways away.

“He still hates me, “Wei WuXian laughed at the Twin Jades

Lan WangJi shook his head at the man, “Xiaozhang and I enjoyed your books, “he stated

“Oh?, “Wei WuXian pondered

“Indeed, “Lan XiChen smiled, “I read your book on the Xiao and Dizi and was fascinated. I was wondering if you’d be willing to play a duet with me. Or maybe, try something on a night-hunt?

“A duet?, “Wei WuXian’s eyes widened before he grinned, “Of course, First Master Lan! No one else here plays the flute you see., “he chuckled

“Great, I’ll imagine we’ll have a lot of fun, “Lan XiChen grinned, “I’ll send an invitation for you to come to Cloud Recesses after we’ve settled back at home”

The air around the three men was light and cheerful. Lan XiChen and Wei WuXian chatted away, reminiscing about the past few years, and Lan WangJi added in his commentary when prompted.

Across the room, Yu ZiYuan was like a pot ready to boil over. A dark cloud surrounded the woman, making those not used to her temper and personality stay as far away from her side of the room as possible. Standing next to her was her best friend, Madam Jin.

“I guess it’s true then, “Madam Jin eyed Wei WuXian while he talked with the Twin Jades of Lan, “Has Jiang Fengmian finally admitted that he’s his bastard?, ”she turned to look at her friend

“Hah, no, “Yu ZiYuan laughed harshly, “he still denies it. Says this whole affair was to boost YunmengJiang’s relations. To attract promising disciples to the sects and bolster the coffers”

“That‘s not what most are going to believe though, is it, “Madam Jin scoffed, “He might as well admit it; he’s trying to depose his legitimate child for some half-breed”

At those words, the Violet Spider grew eerily quiet. The voices around them echoed through their ears, laughter and all matter of chatter going on around them. Madam Jin eyes her friend with a curious glace, wondering about the thoughts going through her friend’s head.

As if on auto-pilot, Madam Yu strode forward.

“ZiYuan?, “Madam Jin questioned

Yu ZiYuan stode the the bodies of cultivators, eyes focused on a singular target. Some eyed her warily as she pushed passed them; the rumors from before popping up in some of their heads as they looked to see where she was headed.

“Zewu-jun knows how to jest! Unexpected, “Wei WuXian chuckled, “Ah, Lan Zhan, you never told me your brother was this funny.”

“I wasn’t jesting, Young Master Wei, “the Lan sect’s heir smiled, “I’ve heard about your ChenQing and the melodies she plays.”

“Indeed, “Wei WuXian grinned back, “Oh, Lan Zhan, we could play a duet as well! What do you say? I’ll even let you pick the song. Or, the three of us could play something together.”

“You”

Wei WuXian paused and turned around, “Oh, Yu Furen-

*SLAP*

The sound of the slap silenced the entire room. Eyes turned to see Wei WuXian holding his cheek and Yu Ziyuan’s manicured hand raised high.

“You son of a servant!”

Reaching out, Yu ZiYuan yanked at Wei WuXian long tresses and threw him to the ground. Fisting his hair in her hand, she growled.

“You think you can do as you please in my home? Need I remind you who is the master here? Huh!”

Raising her other hand high, Yu ZiYuan brought it down with force.

*SLAP* *SLAP* *SLAP* *SLAP* *SLAP*

“You think you’re above my A-Cheng. You think you’re the master of YunmengJiang?!”

*SLAP* *SLAP* *SLAP*

“Well, let me tell you something. I am the Madam of YunmengJiang, and you will always be the son of whore!”

With a snarl, Yu ZiYuan threw Wei WuXian’s head back and at the same time kicked him harshly in the face.

“Mother!, “Jiang Yanli‘s voice broke through the crowd, “A-Xian!”

Everyone was frozen where they stood. The vehemence that radiated from Madam Yu shocked them so much she might as well have turned them to stone.

Wei WuXian coughed and sat up, One hand was covering his nose as blood rushed and stained his robes.

The dark cloud around the Violet Spider seemed to grow ever larger as towered over the young man. Her eyes were full of malice and an ugly snarl was stretched across her face.

Zidian unfurled.

“Conniving Dog!, “the Violet Spider seethed with hatred

With a scream, the whip lashed toward Wei WuXian. In front of everyone, the sight of Zidian tearing across his back was burned into their minds.

Flesh and blood flew as the whip dug deep and tore the skin. Rearing back, Yu ZiYuan let out a roar and striked again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

“Sanniang enough!”

For what seemed like forever, the Violet Spider vented her rage at the young man, her grunts, shouts, and insults filled everyone’s ears and bounced around in their heads. After what seemed like an eternity, Yu ZiYuan finally lowered the whip.

Voices cried out.

“Wei-Xiong!”

“Young Master Wei!”

“Wei Ying!”

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

Author’s Notes:

-If there’s any confusion, this is a No SSC fic. So far, the only thing Wen Ruohan did was the Waterborne Abyss, but has not made a move in seven years.

-If you didn’t read the tags, I’ll remind you that this isn’t a fic for JC or Madam Yu fans. I will write them with their canon characteristics, I will not woobify them to fit your fanon nor will I excuse their abusive actions.

Read my other Prompts and WIPs [Here]

[devouringyourson]

🔥 something abt the Loki show, anything. Like go insane if u want. I have never seen it but I used to be obsessed w Loki when I was like 14 and u r the only exposure to ANYTHING abt the show I have bc I don't follow anyone else who talks abt it. Which is rly all I need as I don't think I could survive watching it

good lord. right so basically I don't give a shit either I just have a soft spot for loki as the thor movies always make me cry (daddy issues idk) so I thought I'd watch and I've been sucked in again by a cool plot and initially well done character study.

considering I hate marvel idk how im surprised but they started off giving the fans everything they wanted with this mystery sci-fi buddy cop plot and confirmation of genderfluid, bi loki. everyone was on cloud nine with this new female loki and the fun bi chaotic siblings dynamic they had.

but then it turn out the 'genderfluid' representation was actually just this is the only ever shockingly female oki variants in the multiverse!! and therefore loki is in love with her after just meeting. and they keep flip flopping on "it's not incesteous they're completely different people!" to regularly putting in lines like "we are stronger than we think" and constantly being reminded they're the same person with the same family etc so it's just incredibly uncomfortable. I don't like it but im used to disappointment and if they're desperate to do a underdeveloped heterosexual romance as an on the nose metaphor for self love then sure whatever I guess but I wish they'd comit. they keep doing these excruciating romantic building moments but then reminding us how weird it is and holding off from any romantic confirmation it's truly painful to watch rip the bandaid off

also some people are saying it's great representation to have two genderfluid bisexuals in love with each other but that's the same old bs good omens argument where's it's like if they're completely shown as binary genders and heteronomativley portrayed then it literally doesn't matter if tptb have said "you can see them how you like uwu give us credit for nothing" ya know? plus having a bi man and a bi woman in a relationship is really cool, in theory, if the mcu has any history of representation but considering its technically the first ever 'queer relationship' in the whole mcu (I think?) and they're kinda related ? that's erm...

it's got wonderful production design though and the time travel/multiverse aspect is really cool! they've just decided to focus on this universe shattering romance though in the later episodes and it's so unececesary. could've kept them in familial platonic love and mutual respect and literally nothing about their bond or the plot would've changed.

another thing to note: there's another white boy mlm ship which I saw a mile off bc they have great chemistry, instantly care for each other and most importantly aren't related but the writers are getting upset at the fans for "taking things the wrong way" and making every connection romantic which is incredibly ironic considering they did just that but as always queer characters aren't allowed to be demonstrably queer ever it's just a bromance

there's a s2 confirmed so I'm hoping that maybe they either calm down in the self-cest thing (it's unpopular even with normal audience it seems) and we just get back to this central trio vibing through time and space as besties which would be cool. OR. I've seen a decent theory that maybe in the finale loki and sylvie (the female variant) will merge into one being as we then have an actual genderfluid loki going forward.. which id be okay with if they're insistent on making them in love (though pissed off bc she's a really cool female character and that's making her a love interest then fridging but maybe that form would revisit???)

send me a 🔥for unpopular opinion. usually not essay length

[catsconflictscopicsandchamomile]

oooohboyohboyohboy. okay. I’m gonna try to explain the plot of spn & the latest canon/fanon updates as clearly as I can (given that the show’s canon is already basically nonsense), using ONLY mythology terms. hang onto your era-appropriate mug of mead bc this is gonna get WILD.

So.

The plot of spn is that Grendel (”Sam” in the modern day, apparently. he’s still a giant if you’re wondering) and Grendel’s Brother (instead of Grendel’s Mother. whoo. puns.) are wandering around the USA with their adoptive mom, a pooka in the form of a car that nobody EVER canonically acknowledges as a pooka, despite her being clearly sentient and able to get from Kansas to LA in a half hour. one time she got to alaska in a week, WHILE she was LITERALLY CURSED BY GOD. 

anyway yeah they just kinda roam around fighting any other monsters/humans/whatever they see, trying to find the demon that killed both the grendels’ birth mom (human? half-elf? hard to tell). then they start getting involved with Christian Shit which goes about as well as it ever does for Grendels, and the ANGEL OF TIME (His name is Cassiel in most lore, Castiel in spn canon, but everyone calls him Cas) shows up, falls in love with Grendel’s Brother and basically becomes an honorary member of the Unseelie Fae. 

a LOT of crazy shit happens, Crowley From Good Omens’ daughter (yeah. he had a kid with some human. the daughter is clearly thracian so it was a while ago. shes scary) and grandson are there, and at some point the newest Jack (from Jack Stories) shows up and crashes with them for a while, does the whole usual take Death as a mentor/betray death/kill some scary mythic shit/piss of the devil/piss off God/trick his way into heaven thing before (we all assume) getting promptly yeeted tf out and (I assume) going off to do the whole “Ruling Halloween” thing. Sam fucks an Empousa who promptly fakes her death, burns his college dorm down, and then un-fakes her death to come bug him (she was allied w the demon that killed his mom. it was a shitshow), then after more flings with more demons (and humans) than you can count, Sam couples up probably-permanently with AíLIN, THE BURNER OF TARA, an UNSEELIE PRINCESS who ALSO THINKS SHES HUMAN. there’s a Tanuki who wears a trucker hat and drinks beer instead of the usual straw hat and sake, he hangs around now and then, makes rooms spontaneously appear, fakes his death a couple times to go do whatever it is yokai do, and mostly just sits on the porch and says “BALLS” a lot because Subtlety Is Dead I guess

The show ends with Cas confessing his love to Dean with his dying breath, while directly behind the door the REST of his true angelic form is (purposefully) recreating Chronos’ fall into tartarus by fighting the horseman of death one-on-one and letting the resulting cut-to-pieces-with-a-scythe-ness of it all drag them both into Tartarus, which, weirdly, was the defeat that loosened the forces of the apocalypse’ hold enough that Trump lost the 2020 election. 

and then like two weeks later Dean gets a cold iron stake through the back and, since HE DOES NOT KNOW HE’S NOT HUMAN and therefore doesn’t know how to do the whole Grendel Invulnerability Thing, he reacts like most demon-fae-whatever creatures would to cold iron and dies in agony burning from the inside out (he lasts almost 10 minutes though- thats pretty impressive), aaaaaaand then Sam gets grabbed by the local fae (working for the horseman of Famine, long story as to why) before he even leaves the scene, and blah blah the usual malevloent fae stuff, weird illusory fake life where nobody’s face is clear, 50 years sped up over 5 hours, etc etc, eventually Famine himself shows up full of fresh Grendel Boy Life Force, taunts him and leaves his white-haired husk in in a field to rot. 

and then some absolute FUCKS (cough. horsemen again) decided to do the whole “devil and the iron nails” folktale and stab shit into Dean tiil he was forced to serve them, so he’s doing that sometimes, and they’re making him do Real Evil Shit... but like at least he’s figured out what he is. furry, even bigger, fangs, breathing fire and all that. when they’re NOT using him, they’ve got him, Sam, AND the Pooka (when they’re not using HER as a soldier too- horsemen. pooka. black horse. I just feel rly bad for her, she lost an eye...) chained to a bridge in north cali (trolls on a bridge. ha ha ha) 

while I THOUGHT Dean was just using the whole Grendel thing to access his predecessors’ memories to do (spoilers), it looks like he might actually have taken some of his angel boyfriend’s magic and is using it to yeet around time. unfortunately the horsemen know this as well so he also yeets around time on their commands and does Bad Guy Things, ripping Osiris’ eye (the magic one) out, eating heroes, pissing off a Son of Mars by eating his grandpa and cursing his dad, teaming up with random fae, fistfighting the devil for really no reason, etc etc etc. 

Cas is either still in tartarus, or in London (tldr Cassiel rules the Deaths Of Kings in the lore so he was DEFINITELY summoned by the queen kicking it last yr)

and as for Sam, well. uh. yeah just try to picture “Grendel Draugr” as a concept and then be VERY happy that he’s stuck on that bridge, even if his magic isn’t. yeeeeeeesh. 

and the tanuki has decided to run for president. 

....oh also, absolutely nobody except me sees spn canon this way. I am the ONLY one. that being said I really enjoyed explaining this to someone who knows a lot about grendel and nothing about spn- its honestly a lot easier than trying to explain this to the actual spn fandom. fandom about myths full of ppl who do not know the relevant myths. 

What do you think of my new Grendel's Mother costume concepts

[therealsaintscully]

Mary and butterflies - the inevitability of death, murderous calling cards and collectors

Some ramblings with links to other people’s excellent meta, in which I suggest that butterflies (and/or moths) symbolize Mary as Moriarty’s reincarnation and or calling card, while also hint at her inevitable death.

Disclaimers: credits are below the cut. I’m not an expert in any of these topics. Thank you, @thewatsonbeekeepers​​ for the beta. In this post I’ll be using moths and butterflies interchangeably, apologies to any entomologists.

Mary’s appearance in the show brings with it new imagery we haven’t seen prior to The Empty Hearse - butterflies. Once Mary’s in the picture, there are butterflies in some very strategic locations, all are either visually or subtextually leading to her. The show has done that previous to season 3; Moriarty is connected to some well established symbols like magpies, apples and IOUs. 

When I first started reading meta I used to think these themes were a bit of a stretch, but I’ve since accepted  that this is a show that puts barely noticeable phoenixes in a restaurant scene that shows us Sherlock rising from his death.

Here are some of the butterflies I spotted so far:

Butterflies (and in the case of this piece of meta, moth) symbolize most commonly resurrection, change and renewal. Behind the symbolism stands the transformation of a small, ungainly creature into something full-grown and unbound. In that case, in the simplest way, one could argue that butterflies were chosen to symbolize her because the ‘Mary Morstan’ persona was a stillborn’s identity that was stolen and used ‘reborn’ to create a new person.

But more than this simplistic idea; butterflies carry multiple symbolisms. When it comes to Sherlock, I and many others tend to look at Victorian symbolism, considering the detective’s Victorian roots. 

I find the appearance of butterflies interesting in Mary’s context, much like I find the skull interesting in Sherlock’s. The skulls, in Sherlock’s case, serve plenty of purposes, but one of them is the idea of memento mori.

Memento mori (Latin for 'remember that you [have to] die') is an artistic or symbolic reminder of the inevitability of death. These are representations that can appear in any form of art such as paintings, literature, poetry etc. It’s a concept that existed in many ancient cultures but is also deeply rooted in early Christianity. It serves to remind people of the inevitable; that even if we choose to ignore it, not think about it, it’s always there lurking, and the purpose is not to scare us but to encourage us to make good use of our time when we’re alive. Memento mori was the philosophy of reflecting on your own death as a form of spiritual improvement, and rejecting earthly vanities.

Victorians were obsessed with the concept (weren’t Victorians obsessed with everything?). They would take photographs of the dead and keep locks of hair of those who died in mourning brooches. It is said that they found these practices comforting. 

Another expression of the ‘remember that you must die’ concept was vanitas art;  vanitas is a symbolic work of art showing the transience of life, the futility of pleasure, and the certainty of death. The Latin noun vanitas (from the Latin adjective vanus 'empty') means 'emptiness', 'futility', or 'worthlessness', the traditional Christian view being that earthly goods and pursuits are transient and worthless. It alludes to Ecclesiastes 1:2; 12:8, where vanitas translates the Hebrew word hevel (הבל), which also includes the concept of transitoriness. 

This concept reminds me, most especially, of the skull used in The Abominable Bride, which is actually Charles Allen Gilbert's 'All is Vanity' Illusion art.

Back to butterflies - butterflies are a staple component of vanitas art - paintings executed in the vanitas style were meant to remind viewers of the transience of life, the futility of pleasure, and the certainty of death. They also provided a moral justification for painting attractive objects - in a way, it’s a justification for the vanity, or the human need of enjoyment of beautiful things.  Below is a vanitas by Jan Sanders van Hemessen:

But butterflies are also considered an omen of death: 

“Butterflies and moths were associated with death, sometimes merely as omens, sometimes as the soul or ghost.” These butterfly omens came in many ways.  For example, in the nineteenth century United States, some people thought that a trio of butterflies was an omen of death.” [x]

Oh.

But I also think there’s more to the butterfly symbolism than Mary’s imminent death; I suggest that, in keeping with @loudest-subtext-in-tv​ M-Theory (suggesting that Mary was planted in John’s life by Moriarty), they symbolize Mary as Moriarty reincarnated following his death in TRF. That Moriarty had indeed not disappointed Sherlock - there was a posthumous game after all! That Sherlock was supposed to understand that while one form of Moriarty died on that roof, another had emerged, continuing the mission of burning Sherlock’s heart. Mary is Moriarty’s calling card, left behind in the crime scene. They’re different, but not separate, which is why Sherlock is so obsessed with Moriarty between HLV-T6T; he’s both wrong and correct at the same time.

So far, what I’ve suggested is that in Sherlock, skulls are Sherlock’s symbolic memento mori - the skulls are associated with Sherlock in some very significant ways. 

However, Mary’s character was doomed from the start - she dies during Sherlock’s hiatus in ACD canon. I believe many fans assumed Sherlock’s Mary expected the same fate when she was introduced to the show. Although the story of Samarra is told by Sherlock, who expects his own death in T6T, Mary is the one who ends up dying. 

Butterflies in ACD canon

Searching for the significance of butterflies in the ACD and BBC canon led me to a number of interesting directions in meta written by others. 

The first and probably the best place to start is this meta post by @tendergingergirl​​, which I strongly suggest you read in full: Butterflies, Sexual Deviancy & The Bloodline Theory in The Hound of The Baskervilles. 

Stapleton also has a hobby. He collects bugs…Butterflies, to be exact. This can often be seen as purely academic, but depending on the actions of the hobbyist, they can indicate more disturbing things. That of holding something vulnerable captive, treating it as your hostage, pinning it down. The torture of animals has come to be a good indicator of someone who would do this to a human. He had already shown callousness by laughing as he recounts to Holmes of ponies wandering onto the Moor, becoming trapped, and dying. In 1974, there was a release of a new edition of Sherlock Holmes stories, with the forward of The Hound of The Baskervilles written by British author, John Fowles. He is responsible for several well-known works, including The French Lieutenant’s Wife. Another, was a novel that Mason finds himself wondering why Fowles doesn’t mention in his introduction, since the villain is such a close parallel to Stapleton.(but as we have learned through the study of ACD, most writers will not come right out and say where they got their inspiration. They like for you to guess!)

A lonely young man, works as a clerk, and collects butterflies, becomes obsessed with a pretty young girl, Miranda, an art student. He chloroforms, and kidnaps her, taking her to his cellar basement, to add Miranda to his collection. That book was called The Collector. But what else does it sound like?

“So yes, I googled. From an article on the release of the movie’s Documentary. "The docu proves a poor reference point for anyone who wants to understand the literary and movie links for “Lambs.” There’s no mention, for example, of how Harris partly based the butterfly-loving Bill on John Fowles’ kidnapper in “The Collector” …And here I thought Mofftiss added allusions to Silence of The Lambs into Sherlock just for fun. SMH.”

@tendergingergirl​ also added this photo to their post:

So what we have here is a chain of metatextualities/inspiration, starting with ACD’s THOB, where Jack Stapelton inspires a book about a disturbed butterfly collector (The Collector by John Fowles), which inspires a the author of Silence of the Lambs in creation of his character Buffalo Bill, a serial murderer who inserts a death's head moth into the victim's throat because he is fascinated by the insect's metamorphosis. Silence of the Lambs served as inspiration for Sherlock  as analyzed by @garkgatiss​ in Bond, Hannibal, and Holmes (I suggest you read the whole Hannibal section) . 

Let’s look again at some imagery from His Last Vow. Mary shoots Sherlock’s heart, essentially burning his heart out, and who does Sherlock meet in his Mind Palace in a very cocoon-like straightjacket? Yes, the dead dude who encourages him to die already (“one more push, and off you pop”).

What’s the next thing we as an audience see once Sherlock opens his eyes? Mary coming to the hospital to hear that Sherlock had, in fact, survived. And what is she wearing? Her butterfly scarf, one which will another appearance later in the episode, during the tarmac scene.

I also find it interesting that in the context of Sherlock and Silence of the Lamb, there’s an element of gender-switching between Moriarty and Mary. Buffalo Bill, the murderer from Silence of the Lambs, skins bodies of women to create himself a woman’s 'suit’; in Sherlock, Moriarty is a man-villain who transforms into a female-villain in the form of a bride and/or Mary. 

By the way, who else is obsessed with his suits?

Also, let’s not forget the worms, maggots and other such crawlers in the grave scene:

Now, let’s go over some of the photos I included in the beginning of this post a bit further.

Mrs. Hudson’s butterfly tea set is first shown in TEH - she uses it to serve John tea when he comes visiting her and tellis her about Mary. We also see it near John’s chair on the day of the wedding. This isn’t Sherlock’s set - his set is different, featuring the British Isles. Moriarty drinks from it in TRF. The next tea set we see, now that Moriarty is dead, is the butterflies one. In TLD, Mrs. Hudson uses Sherlock’s tea set - the butterflies are gone.

Mary’s bedroom wallpaper is very feminine, with flowers and butterflies, both complementing symbols while also very common in vanitas art. Much like Mrs. Hudson’s wallpaper in Baker Street, Mary’s wallpaper is supposed to show the contrast between Mary’s flat/Mary and Sherlock’s flat/Sherlock.

There’s an interesting moth reference in The Empty Hearse, which in my opinion, is Mary & Moriarty related. In short, in a previous piece of meta I wrote, I suggested that the Jack the Ripper case in TEH is subtext alluding to Mary’s skeletons, which Sherlock ignores because he’s upset by his reception by John. And what’s one of the first things Sherlock notices about the skeleton? New mothballs smell, hinting at an attempt to get rid of moth/butterflies - maybe a hint to  the fact that Sherlock has a chance to discover the truth about Mary but misses it. Also, in the context of Mary and the Jack the Ripper case, notice this transition:

Transitions are important on Sherlock - they’re nearly always there to draw our attention.

This, I think, is perhaps the most telling about a possible connection between Mary and Moriarty: we have both magpies (a Moriarty hint) and butterflies together here. This isn’t the only hint of Mary’s past we get in the wedding; there is, after all, the telegram from CAM.

Mary’s scarf is colorful, and it appears by the time Sherlock’s subconscious suspects Mary. Mary’s black butterfly dress - an ominous dress, I’d say - is the one she wears during the labour scene in the car. The third photo is a behind the scenes photo uploaded by Amanda Abbington, although I’m unsure whether this necklace is AA’s or Mary’s (but I couldn’t pass on including this).

Interestingly, the butterflies do not appear in Rosie’s context - either because it’s a telling sign that Mary won’t be with us much longer, or because Rosie is spared being considered a part of the ‘burning Sherlock’s heart’ plan. Sherlock, on the surface, seems to love Rosie and accepts her.

Also, another BTS photograph I came across during my research which I’ve never seen before and ties nicely to the vanity topic is this one (found here):

The Death's-head hawkmoth and ‘Death with Interruptions’

You’ll recall that I referenced The Collector and Silence of the Lambs, both featuring butterflies on their cover art. 

The Silence of the Lambs cover features Acherontia atropos, otherwise known as the death's-head hawkmoth. It gets its name from the sinister-looking skull shape on its back. In many cultures it is thought to be an omen of death. In a bit of another coincidental but stunning piece of symbolism, all three species of the Death's-head hawkmoth are commonly observed raiding beehives of different species of honey bee; A. atropos only invades colonies of the well-known western honey bee, Apis mellifera, and feeds on both nectar and honey. They can move about in hives without being disturbed because they mimic the scent of the bees and are not recognised as intruders.

Anyway, the use of Acherontia atropos reminded me of the book ‘Death with Interruptions’ by Jose Saramago. Interestingly, this is another book about a deathly collector with a butterfly on the cover:

In Death with Interruptions death is a woman, and she falls in love with one of her future victims. She decides to spare his life: Every time death sends him his letter [notifying him of his imminent death], it gets returned. death discovers that, without reason, this man has mistakenly not been killed. Although originally intending merely to analyse this man and discover why he is unique, death eventually becomes infatuated with him, so much so that she takes on human form to meet him. Upon visiting the cellist, she plans to personally give him the letter; instead, she falls in love with him, and, by doing so, she becomes even more human-like.

It’s pretty common to read theories about Mary who maybe was one of the assassins due to kill John both at the pool and in front of Barts. So we have a death harbinger trying to kill someone twice and failing. She then falls in love with him.

But how does the butterfly fit in?

Well, at some point in the story, death (that’s her name, sans a capital d), contemplates that using the death head butterfly, instead of a violet piece of paper, would have sent a much stronger message to those whose death is coming for.

And here’s another last bit of coincidental reference to Sherlock: I’d argue shades of purple, among them shades of violet, are associated with Mary and her secrets. There’s the purple dress she wears in TEH, her bridesmaids’ dresses include various shades of purple (including what I would argue was a violet sash) and let’s not forget:

Oh and, by the way, remember the song Donde Estas, Yolanda from TEH, about a woman called Yolanda? Always thought it was a bit of an odd choice for a song?

Yolanda is a female given name, of Greek origin, meaning Violet.

:)

Thoughts?

Credits: thank you @lukessense​ for directing me to @tendergingergirl​ meta about butterflies. Episode screenshots are from kissthemgoodbye.net.

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