#so i did have to do a bit of research answering this lmao

[multi-lefaiye]

It's your turn on the STS 🫵🏿 what kinda clothes would Eden wear in the modern day? And his family members for that matter

answering this well over a week late bc the concept of time is nothing to me.

ANYWAY thank you for this ask!!! this is what made me realize that i haven't actually put a lot of thought into what eden's family members wear, either in canon or in a more modern au. and i've drawn modern/human eden before, but i didn't really do anything special for him and just kinda put him in his usual outfit with a few tweaks.

so i'm gonna take this as an opportunity to briefly describe how eden and his family members prefer to dress, and share some images to show how that would translate to a modern au.

gonna go under the cut in case this gets long!

eden:

tends to dress nicely and professionally, but also in clothes that don't restrict his movement too much. in canon, his clothes are modified to accommodate his more infernal features, such as his tail and horns.

gravitates towards specific color schemes. he likes wearing a lot of red and black, with gold or white accents. yes, he knows he's edgy. this is on purpose.

also likes to dress a little cunty. big fan of knee-high boots and long coats.

i've drawn him in the past mainly with western style belts with buckles, but i think he'd like some kind of rope or tie belt.

hypothetical modern eden style vibes:

he'd also still accessorize with a pair of gloves and a necklace with his mother's wedding ring. and also i think modern eden uses glasses, a pair of forearm crutches, and a cane as needed.

michael:

especially as an adult, michael is a very active and outdoorsy type. he's not the type to sit in place and let the world pass him by--he wants to be out in it, living and breathing fresh air and working with his hands. i think, in a modern au, he'd really gravitate towards outdoorsy gear, maybe athleisure type shit.

lots of loose, comfortable clothing when he's just going about his day casually, nice sneakers and running shoes, and then when he's actually out in nature more heavy-duty hiking gear.

unlike eden, michael doesn't gravitate towards any one color scheme, nor is he trying to look cunty. he takes pride in his appearance, sure, and wants to look nice, but the vibes are different.

that being said, i think he'd wear a lot of greys and neutral tones. he likes bright colors, but he doesn't have a lot of confidence in wearing them. at most, i can see him rocking some camouflage patterned shit.

anyway, modern michael style vibes, from the kind of athleisure i think he'd like to more actual outdoorsy clothing:

in terms of accessories, michael wears a lot of hats, and he has a watch from his father he wears rather often.

hannah:

i have drawn hannah exactly once, and that design is very outdated, but the outfit i drew her in then is still pretty close to how i still imagine she dresses: lots of colors, with occasional frills and lace. she's a big fan of patterns, especially floral ones, all of which translates to a modern au well enough, i think.

hannah is not an enjoyer of dark, neutral colors.

i'm a bit torn on whether or not she'd prefer skirts or pants, so y'know what! both! both is good. when dressing up to go somewhere, hannah prefers dresses, and she has a specific off-the-shoulder purple dress with lace trim that she's very fond of. on a daily basis, though, especially once she has kids, she tends more towards high-waisted pants and blouses.

eden gets a lot of his cunty fashion sense from her--while i don't think she's one for knee-high boots or flowing overcoats, she's got multiple pairs of killer heels.

she also would rather frequently wear headwraps, headbands, and scarves, and once again prefers bright colors and patterns. what can i say! she's a woman who loves to dress brightly, if that makes sense.

hannah general style vibes:

(the first one is off because i do not think hannah would wear black, but that's the style of blouse she'd like. and bonus points for her looking a lot like i imagine modern/human hannah, just with lighter skin than hannah actually has.)

abdiel:

in all universes, abdiel is a suit enjoyer. he dresses in a lot of formal, dark clothing, and even when in a more casual setting that's what he prefers. the day he goes without at LEAST a dress shirt is the day he dies.

honestly, i don't think abdiel's fashion would be particularly interesting most of the time. but he would wear some damn nice suits. this applies to both canon and any modern au. he can get a little cunty with it, i'll allow it.

like eden, abdiel tends to wear certain color schemes, but he's nowhere near as specific as eden is, lmao. but abdiel is a big enjoyer of blue and purple.

not much for accessorizing, but he has a small collection of floral ties that he wears on rare occasions, all gifts from hannah to try and add a bit of color to his wardrobe.

like i said, though, he doesn't wear them much. they're gifts from hannah, and so he loves them, but they don't usually match his suits that well.

modern abdiel style vibes:

he definitely would wear those sock garter things

[lunareiitic]

HSR 1.6 SPOILERS AHEAD BE WARNED

I saw a discussion on Reddit earlier where someone talked about how gracious Herta is to Ruan Mei and felt that the plot shows that Ruan Mei is taking advantage of her and I felt like... it's not a bad conclusion to draw from the text but. It feels not correct. Like yes, Herta essentially does let RM do whatever she wants, especially with regards to the space station, and RM doesn't seem to be very thankful for it. (Setting aside the fact that it isn't really Herta's space station. Asta's the one who bankrolls and manages it. It's just got Herta's name on it. Herta is just as uncaring to the researchers lmao) But to call RM a "passive manipulator" (yes, I saw this take too) of her and nothing more I think... overlooks both of their personalities? Taking into account that both of these characters are essentially confirmed autistic (go see the official post about the Genius Society, you can't make this up) their dynamic is a little tragic but very true-to-life.

Herta is loud, pushy, and bratty. She's like a cat- she doesn't take no for an answer and the moment you try to get her to do something she doesn't want to do she goes limp and useless. She admires Ruan Mei because she's nothing like her. And RM would never push Herta to do anything. RM doesn't push. She doesn't even really manipulate. The woman cannot lie to save her life. All she did was ask Herta if she could use part of the space station and Herta obliged, and it sounds like she'd been waiting for Ruan Mei to finally ask her for something. RM doesn't really have a malicious bone in her body. That's what makes her so terrifying. People are often just willing to do as she asks and she makes no pretenses or illusions about herself, her motives, or her life. The closest she gets to lying is just not answering when pressed. She is so socially inept she has to drug the trailblazer into silence so they'll help her. And I think this is... out of embarrassment? If it were me, an autistic bitch who cannot lie to save my life, I would want to do something similar. She knows she's gotten herself into a situation because she left the incubator on too long and then the space station got attacked, but admitting that to Herta would wound her pride and also cause friction between them. You can tell that she brought the Trailblazer into that Genius meeting because she was afraid Herta and Screwllum had caught on to her, and once she realizes that it's just them debating about (in her eyes) nothing, she lets the Trailblazer go. I've seen people call that "callous", as if she was dropping them as soon as they were not useful to her. But she says why she does it basically immediately- she thinks it would bore us and she has something else more important that she needs our help with.

I think the part of Ruan Mei's character that people are overlooking right now is that Ruan Mei does care. Look at the story bit for Genius' Repose, where she serves machine oil in a teacup for Screwllum and promises to send a box of homemade sweets to Herta's flesh-and-blood body. She's the kind of person who is actively thinking of her mother and her grandmother and their little home in the snow every time she eats something sweet. Her creations are literally desperate with love. Love, love, love, love. Love that feels alien to her, love that she can't put into words, love that her alexithymia won't let her ascertain and compartmentalize. Love that is as elusive and vexing and important as that spark of the divine soul she's been chasing all this time. She loves and she loves deeply, to the point of obsession. But she's in love with the past as much as Herta is- their signature light cones both have them reflecting on a past version of themselves that they know they cannot have back. She quite literally brought her mother back to life because she couldn't bear to break a promise to her late grandmother (who... somehow, is still waiting for her... somewhere). She's a deeply sentimental person. Haven't you ever looked at other people and felt, even for just a moment, that you are apart from them? That they have something you lack? What if you let that feeling consume you? Ruan Mei yearns for a world that she cannot touch because she's lost the trees in the greater forest of her mind. She feels the need to become god because she feels so utterly alienated from the world around her. But she can't escape herself, no matter how far she runs.

I guess what I'm trying to say, is that Herta and Ruan Mei are friends, even if Ruan Mei doesn't feel that she's capable of it. It makes a lot of sense that they're both ice too, element ruled primarily by The Remembrance. I wonder how they both feel about that?

[puppetmaster13u]

Oh my god

it never even occurred to me that the League would have to deal with Broody!Batman holy shit-

I can 100 percent see the league being absolutely baffled by Batman’s behavior- I feel like some would be aware of the A/B/O traits, but not all.

Just imagine when Batman eventually decides they’re his Work Pack:tm: and starts to treat them as such.

He’s suddenly all touchy and tries to flaunt his role as Lead Pack Omega much to their confusion.

And for the ones with super senses? I feel like they wouldn’t get the nitty gritty details of scenting (Though beast boy most definitely does)

Clark would be so stressed out over that. What’s wrong with his best friend?? Why did Bruce suddenly going from smelling like nothing to smelling like sweet earth??? (The answer is Scent Blockers, Bruce just decided to stop wearing them so he could mark them as pack.)

Also them dealing with Batman immediately post taking in Dick??? Oh god they’d be so concerned because why is Bruce suddenly so flighty?? Why did he go from doing everything to the letter to I Need To Get Out Now??

And you know Bruce doesn't think to explain. Like everyone in Gotham knows about dynamics, it's Gotham after all. He even forgot to mention it to Dick when he first came to the manor, and he saw him literally every day.

And it's not like he didn't care about them before, but it was silent, more distant care. Adding an extra kitchen when Flash complains about his high metabolism, adding more stuff to the gym when someone mentions it, but never letting anyone know he was the one to do so.

He still does these things of course, but will also just drop gifts into their arms and laps. Gifts covered in his scent seeing as he's not around them as often as say, his Wayne Enterprises pack. Which he also doesn't see often but is probably helped by the fact of him not being the only one with a dynamic.

Gosh Bruce is definitely fighting with himself because he wants to share his pup with his pack(s) but he also wants to of course keep him safe. Meaning he has to keep him hidden and all that and there's also the issue of Dick not understanding the whole broodiness at first too.

And you know he's going to not vocalize any of this. And the broodiness definitely gets worse for a bit until the miscommunication between him and Dick gets fixed lol.

Love the idea of Clark just, forgetting the fact he's a journalist and can find this information if he researched Gotham lmao. He's smart until he's in the middle of worrying about one of his friends and the freak out takes over.

Definitely not helped by the fact that the rest of the league also freaking out and wondering wtf is wrong lol.

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 7.6k ❧ warnings: cursing, mm and that’s really it! i mean like they fight and stuff but just read the genre tags lmao ❧ genre: exes to lovers, angst with a happy ending (look at what blog ur on rn), christmas-themed (if the title wasn’t apparent enough), getting snowed in trope, cuddling to share warmth trope, just a fun, cheesy, time ❧ extra info: i wrote this in a 24-ish hour fever. it’s moderately proof-read. beware. ❧ author’s note: a starlightkun fic under 10k! it’s a christmas miracle!

“I just said, it’s not that simple!” You yelled, your hands curling into fists at your side. Kun let out a huff, walking away from his armchair to pace in front of the Christmas tree across the room from you. You weren’t going to let him off that easily, though. “Why did you stop loving me?”

“Any big holiday plans, Y/N?” Your boss asked as you handed her some documents to sign.

“Oh, staying in town,” you answered nonchalantly. “What about you, ma’am?”

She told you about her own Christmas and New Year plans with her wife, kids, and parents with a bright smile on her face as she flipped through the pages. After giving you the signatures you needed, she handed the papers back to you.

“Can you run those over to Dr. Oh’s office for me? The undergrads all went back home for break.”

“Sure, no problem.”

“After that, you can head out for the day. My Christmas present to you.”

“Oh, thank you, ma’am.”

“That, and also this.” She handed you a red envelope before standing up from her desk and closing her laptop. “Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year, Y/N.”

“Thank you, you too,” you flashed her a genuine smile. “Happy Holidays to your family as well. See you in a week.”

“See you.”

Tucking the envelope into your bag, you quickly tidied up your workstation before heading out of the research lab to do your final task. You were a research fellow at a rather prestigious university, and while running papers would typically be asked of the interns and undergraduate students who helped out in the lab, as your boss—the head of the lab—had already pointed out, classes let out for their Winter Break two weeks ago, so you were fresh out of fresh meat.

You pulled your scarf tight around your nose and lower half of your face as you stepped out into the chilly winter air. Dr. Oh was the Dean of Graduate Studies at the university, and you’d been to his office a couple of times before, so your feet followed a familiar path as you hurried through the cold and into the building. The air was almost oppressively hot inside, and you tore off your scarf as you ran up the stairs.

There was light pouring out from Dr. Oh’s office at the end of the hall, the only one on. You poked your head in through the open door, greeted by the sight of a seemingly empty office. Must have stepped out.

Just as you had dropped the papers into his inbox on his desk, you heard footsteps at the doorway and whipped around to greet the older man, breathless smile already on your face.

Except it wasn’t Dr. Oh standing there. Your greeting died in your throat as you stared at the newcomer with blatant shock.

“Oh, Y/N,” Qian Kun rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. His hair was a bit longer than before, a shaggy length that covered most of his ears and neck, and he’d forgone his contacts in favor of a pair of silver wire-rimmed glasses, but there was nothing that time could do to conceal his identity from you. The way your heart dropped to your stomach as soon as he said your name was undeniable. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” You sputtered back harshly. His PhD program was at a completely different university in the area and should have ended in the spring. What business did he have here of all places?

“I started assisting Dr. Oh last month. Uhm, sorry, I sort of thought you graduated already, or I wouldn’t have interviewed for the job.”

“I did graduate.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Two years ago. I’m a research fellow now.”

“Of course. Well, congrats.”

You let out a small noise of acknowledgement that could’ve also been interpreted as a cynical chuckle.

“So, did you need to see Dr. Oh? He’s left the office for the year, I’m just finishing up a couple things here.”

“Oh, no,” you shook your head, vaguely gesturing to the inbox over your shoulder. “My research head asked me to drop something off.”

Kun nodded. “Right. I’ll make sure he looks it over first thing when he gets back.”

“Thank you.” There was a pause of tense silence, and you looked around the office uncomfortably. “So, can I go, or…?”

“Yeah, of course, sorry.” He moved out of the doorway, stepping aside to clear the exit for you. “It uhm, it was nice to see you, Y/N.”

“Yeah, sure.”

You’d just brushed past him when he called your name out again. Against your better judgment, you stopped just short of leaving the office and turned to look at him.

“What, Kun?”

“What uh, what are you doing for the holidays? Are you going back home? Or, celebrating here with… someone?”

You weren’t sure what compelled you to answer other than basic social niceties. “No. Airline tickets were crazy, couldn’t find anything that would get me back in the lab in time that wasn’t ridiculously expensive. All my friends are traveling, so I’ll be eating ramen by myself on the couch, presumably.”

You had answered his half-asked question. No, you didn’t have a significant other to spend the holiday with. Just your family back home that you couldn’t afford to go see, and friends who had all left town.

“Oh…” He looked down at his feet.

“What about you?” You asked pettily, fully expecting him to be visiting a significant other’s family in town, flying home to see his family, something much merrier than the picture you had just painted.

“Same for me,” he admitted quietly. “Plane tickets back home were so expensive… and I just left my old job and haven’t really made new friends here yet. At least not ones that are on the level of them inviting me to their family Christmas.”

While you wanted to be bitterly vindicated by Kun making himself as alone on Christmas as he had made you, it somehow just weighed twice as heavy on your heart. All that came out of this was two lonely people, far away from home.

“Do you… maybe want to come over? For Christmas?” Kun’s hesitant proposition knocked the wind out of you.

“Why?”

“Well, neither of us have any other plans. And, I don’t know, I thought it might be nice… to be with someone you know. Better than being alone on Christmas eating instant ramen, maybe?”

You took a couple deep breaths, gnawing on your bottom lip as you thought over his offer. “Fine. Christmas dinner. No presents.”

He grabbed a pen and pad of sticky notes off the desk, scribbling something down. “Here’s… my address. Let’s say six?”

You plucked the yellow square from his fingers delicately. “Six.”

“See you then.”

You reached into your bag to affix the sticky note to the red envelope from your research head, then pulled your scarf back out. “See you then, Kun.”

For the next three days, that sticky note sat on your coffee table and stared at you. Even as you went about your day trying not to think about it, busying yourself with jigsaw puzzles, books, and whatever cheesy Christmas movie was on at the time. That yellow square was stuck to your forebrain, plaguing your every waking moment.

Every night you were kept up with memories. You hadn’t seen Kun in three years, since you’d picked up the last of your possessions from your old apartment. The apartment the two of you had lived in together. A brief flash of picking up your things, cut by the first time you’d opened the door to your new place together, hand-in-hand, absolutely bursting with excitement and hope for the future.

As you started getting ready to go over to Kun’s place, your body moved by itself, despite the sinking pit in your stomach threatening to swallow you whole.

Rooting through your spare closet, you finally got a small blue box out of the back. You opened it up, a bittersweet sigh leaving your mouth. Nestled in among some tissue and spare ornament hooks was a three-dimensional figure of a sea turtle, covered in glitter and with a navy blue loop of string for hanging coming from its back, but otherwise pretty realistic. You placed it in your bag, carefully cushioned by a scarf.

Before you left, you finally opened your card from your boss. She had written you a very nice note about how much she appreciated your work at the lab, and wishing you all the best in your future endeavors. There was also a gift card loaded up with a considerable amount of money, which you pocketed for later.

Kun’s place wasn’t terribly far from yours, about a fifteen-minute walk, but the heavy snow that was starting to fall slowed you down a bit more. You’d probably have to get a taxi on your way back at this rate. Hopefully your awkward, polite Christmas dinner would be very short.

Knocking on the evergreen-painted door, which sported an elegantly beautiful wreath, you checked the time on your phone. So you were a few minutes late. Oh well.

Kun opened the door with a bright smile, dressed nicely but casual enough in a dark brown knitted sweater, loose-fitting dark pants, and socks with cartoon reindeer on them. “Hey, you made it. Come on in.”

“Thanks.” You stepped into the warmth of the apartment, and he closed the door behind you.

“When I saw how hard it was snowing out there, I started getting worried.” He helped you out of your thick overcoat, hanging it up on a hook by the front door for you. “I hope you didn’t walk.”

“I did. It wasn’t too bad.” You peeled off your gloves, moving to put them in your purse at the same time that you grabbed something from the bag.

“Did you see they’re forecasting 30 to 90 cm of snow by tomorrow morning? We’ll have to get you a cab home tonight before it gets too bad.” He was still talking as he started leading the way from the narrow hallway entry into the rest of the apartment.

His living room was cozy, especially with the crackling fireplace, delicious smells emanating from the kitchen, and festive decorations put up everywhere. One corner was taken up by a modest-sized Christmas tree, covered in colorful lights and an eclectic mix of ornaments.

“Is that a real tree?” You asked curiously.

“Yeah,” he admitted almost sheepishly. “Your uh—your Christmas tree purism rubbed off on me... Doesn’t feel like Christmas unless I’m sweeping up pine needles.”

You chuckled lightly at that, remembering that your first fight as a couple was around your first Christmas together, specifically about whether to get a plastic tree or a real one for his apartment, which you were practically living in at that point. Your family had always gotten real ones when you were growing up, and you could never get behind the fake ones. Kun, on the other hand, didn’t really care either way, but got frustrated when he couldn’t convince you on the cost-saving aspect of being able to reuse your tree every year. The spat fizzled out the very same day, and you ended up having a very cute date when you went to go pick out your first (real) tree together.

“I know I said no gifts, but I don’t think this really counts, since I’m just giving you something back that was yours in the first place.” You brought the sea turtle ornament out, holding it out to him by the loop of string. “It ended up in my stuff and I couldn’t... see you again. Sorry for holding onto it for so long.”

Kun accepted the glittery marine creature in his hand, a fond smile coming to his features. “I thought I’d lost it. Thank you for not uh, throwing it out or something.”

“I paid good money for that, I wasn’t going to be the one to put it in the trash,” you joked half-heartedly, watching as he turned to hang it up on the tree. In the branches among his other ornaments, it looked at home.

Your first date had been to the aquarium, and your first kiss that same day by the sea turtle exhibit, which was why you had picked that specific ornament to give him for your second Christmas together. It was actually from the very same aquarium’s gift shop— meaning that it was wildly overpriced, but cute nevertheless.

“You have a working fireplace, too?” You gestured to the very real fire nearby.

“I do!” He beamed proudly, going to readjust some of the logs, the flames growing to a steadier burn. “I got really lucky with this place.”

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you nodded in agreement.

A couple of beats of silence passed, then Kun gestured towards the kitchen. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

You followed him into the kitchen, where there was a small square table with four chairs around it, and two places already set across from each other. A few full dishes were already on the table as well, and you wondered how much more food he could be making, as it looked like there was already enough to feed a family of eight at least.

“Smells good,” you commented.

Kun gave you another small smile, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as he leaned against the closed oven. “Thanks. I uh—got excited to cook for someone else again, and sort of went overboard. So you’re welcome to take a bunch of leftovers, too.”

“Cool, thanks.” No fucking way would you be doing that. Taking leftovers home in one of his containers, that you would then have to wash and bring back to him? Absolutely not.

The beeping of a timer went off then, and he spun around to turn off the numbers flashing at him from the stovetop. He opened the oven, putting on oven mitts before taking out the last dish.

After putting it down at the table, he announced, “Alright, dinner’s served!”

You took a seat, watching as Kun continued to bustle around the kitchen. Putting the oven mitts away, turning the oven off, grabbing a wine bottle, corkscrew, and two wine glasses from the cabinets.

“Oh, I don’t drink anymore,” you informed him casually.

“Oh, sorry.” As he went to go put everything away again, you interrupted him.

“You can drink around me, it’s not... anything like that. I’ll be fine. Just sort of lost the taste for it.”

Kun poured a glass for himself over at the counter before putting the bottle away. “So, what can I get you? I have some sparkling water, sodas, eggnog...”

“Just regular water is fine.”

He rushed to do that, and as he set your glass down in front of you, you noted, “You remembered how much ice...”

“You did give me a ten-minute lecture on the proper ratio of ice to water, if you’ll recall.” He took his seat across from you.

“Alright, lecture is doing a lot of heavy lifting there. I was simply explaining myself thoroughly so as to not be misunderstood.”

“I understood you crystal clear afterwards,” Kun chuckled, lifting his glass of red wine. “Merry Christmas, Y/N. Thank you for agreeing to do this kind of weird thing I asked you.”

“Merry Christmas, Kun,” you clinked your glass to his in a toast. “That’s what I do, remember?”

Dinner continued with civil, even sometimes amicable conversation. Mostly catching up on what had happened in both your lives in the past three years, how your families were, your jobs, fairly neutral topics.

Kun had just finished his doctorate program in the spring, and had taken the position with Dr. Oh at your university while he looked for something more aligned with his studies. You wanted to do some research before possibly going back to pursue a doctorate in your own field.

Kun’s family was doing well, his baby brother Chenle was graduating high school in the spring, his middle brother Dejun was now in his fourth year of undergrad at your own alma mater back home, and his parents were going to be celebrating their 30th anniversary next year on a cruise— which they were both very excited about, as it would be their first one.

You had to belatedly break the news to him that your grandmother passed two years ago— she had always loved Kun and you never did have the heart to tell her that the two of you broke up when she would ask where he was on your visits, since her dementia just meant that you would’ve had to re-explain it to her again the next time you saw her. You elected not to mention any of that to Kun in the moment. Other than her passing, your family was alright. Your parents had just gotten a new old cat from the shelter a few months ago, your older sister welcomed her second child, a baby girl, and you happily showed off pictures of your niece, and now five-year-old nephew to Kun.

“Wow... I can’t believe Little Bear is so big,” he gushed at the photo of your nephew on your shoulders.

“Oh, he’s an absolute menace now,” you laughed and shook your head. “That little docile baby you knew who would just fall asleep in anybody’s arms is nowhere to be found.”

“And his sister?”

“Oh, she’s going to be even worse than her brother, I just know it.” You swiped to another photo of the baby, fond grin on your lips.

Kun’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, then he cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. “Are you finished?”

“Oh, yeah,” you looked down at your empty plate, having completely forgotten about it in the moment. “It was all really delicious, thanks, Kun.”

“Better than the instant ramen you had planned?”

“By far. You’re a great cook, as always.”

He stood up to grab your plates. “I’m glad you liked it.”

Realizing that this was the end of dinner, of your commitment for the night, you felt simultaneously disappointed and relieved. On one hand, it was kind of nice seeing Kun again and being able to catch up—you especially loved hearing about how his little brothers were doing, you had adored doting on them while you were dating, since you were the youngest sibling yourself. But on the other hand, it was all a façade. Neither of you were addressing the elephant in the room, and it was getting exhausting trying to keep up the friendly chatter and not veer into anything serious, to only put your best foot forward in representing yourself and your life.

“Thank you for inviting me, I don’t think I said that before,” you said indicatively, standing from your seat. “You were right, it was nice being with someone you know, someone who’s from the same place as you, on Christmas.”

Kun gave a half-smile, taking his phone from the table. “We should order you that taxi, huh?”

“Right.”

As you started putting all your layers back on in the hallway, you could hear Kun’s end of the phone call with the cab company.

“What do you mean you’re not dispatching? I know it’s Christmas but— How much?! Seriously?!”

You poked your head out to look at him with concern, but he wasn’t facing you. Instead, he was at the window of the living room, throwing the curtains aside to look out.

“Alright, well, you can’t help that, no, sir. Thank you. Yep, Merry Christmas.”

After he’d hung up without giving his address, you knew something was wrong.

“What’s going on?” You asked cautiously, still slowly pulling on your gloves one finger at a time.

He looked at you over his shoulder, now leaning one forearm against the window. He jerked his head for you to come over. “Come see for yourself.”

You walked over hesitantly, and saw nothing but white. “Oh my God.”

“Forecasts were off a bit. Apparently there’s already been 100cm of snow, and they’re projecting at least another 50 before tomorrow.”

“Holy fucking shit.” Your jaw dropped. “So we’re...”

“Snowed in. Yeah,” he confirmed bluntly. “Guy at the taxi company says they’re not expecting the roads to start being cleared until New Year’s, and they’ll start with businesses and shopping districts first.”

You continued staring at the snow piling up against the window in shock, and Kun took a step back.

“So, you want some eggnog?”

After you had once more removed your coats, scarf, gloves, and boots, you sat down on Kun’s couch, fervently texting all your family. They had apparently seen on the news about the crazy snowstorm hitting your area, and were checking in on you. You reassured them that you were just fine, and were staying at a friend’s place until the storm blew over and the roads cleared. You deigned not to tell them who exactly this ‘friend’ was. You hadn’t told anybody who knew Kun that you were going to his place today, actually. While your family and friends had been supportive of you during the breakup, you could tell how disappointed they were that you two hadn’t worked out—and a couple outright said so. You knew it was in the ‘we’ve never seen you so happy’ sort of way, but that didn’t make it feel any better at the time.

A mug dipped into the top of your vision, accompanied by Kun’s voice. “Here.”

“Oh, thanks,” you flashed him a smile as you accepted it, and set your phone down on his coffee table. “Just letting the brigade back home know I’m not dead under a hundred meters of snow.”

He sat down in the armchair caddy corner to the end of the couch you were at. “My family has been blowing up my phone, too. For some reason my parents aren’t very amused about Chenle and Dejun daring me to go build the world’s largest snowman right now.”

“Probably have enough snow for it,” you mused. “What is the record for the biggest snowman, do you think?”

“Got to be at least ten meters, right?”

“Oh, definitely way more than that.”

“Really? You think?”

“For sure,” you snorted, picking your phone back up and quickly searching online. “It looks like the official Guinness World Record is 37.21 meters, in Bethel, Maine. But Donnersbachwald, Austria made a snowman that was reportedly 38.04 meters, named Riesi.”

Kun whistled lowly. “Well goddamn.”

“And look!” You turned your phone to show Kun the photo of Riesi. “It’s so cute!”

“Is that a top hat?”

“I think?”

As you looked at the picture one more time and put your phone to the side, you reclined back in your seat, lifting your mug up to your lips to take your first sip of the eggnog. The fire continued crackling in the background, and you hummed a Christmas carol to yourself. So you couldn’t make your great escape exactly how you’d planned. But you and Kun had tolerated each other pretty well so far, you could probably make it out of here in a few days relatively unscathed.

“Hey, uhm, what did you mean earlier?” Kun quietly shattered all of your hopes and dreams for peace with just one vague question.

“Huh? When?”

“When I thanked you for going along with my weird idea to get together for Christmas despite… everything. And you said: ‘It’s what I do, remember?’ What did you mean by that?”

“Oh… just… you know— You’d have some weird, or crazy, or slightly irresponsible, or fun idea and I always said yes,” you kept your tone conversational and nostalgic. “Blowing your whole paycheck on a LEGO set that you’d always wanted but your parents would never buy you as a kid, skipping classes in undergrad to laze about your apartment, taking the long way back to your car after Sicheng’s film festival even though it was pouring rain because you remembered I had said on our first date that I’d always wanted to dance in the rain, submitting my paper to the undergraduate research panel…”

“Moving out here,” he filled in for you flatly.

You pressed your lips together in a thin line before nodding. “Moving here…”

“Is that really how you feel? That I was always dragging you around places, making you do stuff that you didn’t want to do?”

“Kun, we’re going to be stuck in here together for who knows how long, can we not do this?”

He threw his hands up in exasperation. “I mean, I knew you were bitter about coming here, but apparently I was holding you hostage the entire four years before that too and had no idea.”

“That is not what I said,” you said through gritted teeth, narrowing your eyes.

“What else am I supposed to think about what you said?”

“You don’t!” You snapped. “You don’t think about it, you don’t read into it, they’re just words! Not everything has a deeper meaning, sometimes people just say stuff, you know.”

“Well you never actually say what you mean, so I have to try to read between the lines.”

“Or maybe I’m saying plenty, and you’re too far up your own ass trying to decipher me like some cosmic puzzle instead of listening to the actual words I’m saying!”

“So I don’t have to ask if you’re still bitter about it, then,” he scoffed.

The final shred of decency and civility left in you burned up right then, and you got to your feet as you exploded, “You convinced me to leave my family, my friends, my home, everything and everyone I knew, to come here for your dreams! And then you told me you didn’t love me anymore! Of course I’m fucking bitter!”

Kun got to his feet too, staring you down intensely. “Then why didn’t you go back home? After you graduated, you stuck around. Why?”

“I was offered the position at the lab—”

“There’s other labs.”

“The studies we’re doing—”

“There’s other studies.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“If you hated it here so much and hated me for dragging you here, why didn’t you take the first chance you had to leave?”

“I just said, it’s not that simple!” You yelled, your hands curling into fists at your side. Kun let out a huff, walking away from his armchair to pace in front of the Christmas tree across the room from you. You weren’t going to let him off that easily, though. “Why did you stop loving me?”

His features turned apologetic for a moment. “Y/N—”

“You knew how much I loved you, that I’d follow you anywhere. I chose to study here even though it was my second choice because your top pick had already accepted you. I thought we were planning our life together, but then you dropped me like it was nothing. So why? Why did you stop loving me?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Just answer the question, Kun,” you demanded. “Why? You had to have an inkling before you took me from everyone I loved—”

“I didn’t take you anywhere, you’re not some helpless waif! We were grown-ups and we made grown-up decisions!” He raised his voice again, face red with anger and veins bulging in his neck and forehead. “If I remember correctly, I suggested being long-distance while we did our graduate studies.”

“I loved you, Kun! I loved you, and I wanted to see you thriving and to support you from right next to you, not be in the sidelines of your life.”

“I never stopped loving you.”

“What?”

“The answer to your question is that I never stopped loving you, actually. I just told you I did.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded, slack-jawed, before you were filled with even more white-hot rage than ever, “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Y/N, we were fighting every other day, we never saw each other because we were working so much and when we did we just fought—Like this!” He gestured between the two of you zealously as he defended himself. “—about the stupidest stuff. I could see how much you hated being here, and I knew you resented me for bringing you here, but you wouldn’t ever talk to me about it. I thought that if I was the only thing keeping you here, then I needed to stop being so selfish and let you go back home where you would actually be happy again.”

“And you didn’t think to consult me on any of that?”

His jaw clenched as he took a deep inhale through his nose before answering, voice absolutely incensed, “I couldn’t get you to talk about it! Whenever I tried to ask you how you were doing settling in here, how you liked your program, anything, you just gave me these- these hollow smiles and placated me with the same ‘oh, it’s great, I really like it’ over and over again! It was like being in love with a brick wall!”

“Because I didn’t want youto blame yourself! Because it wasn’t your fault!” Your chest heaved as you caught your breath from so much shouting. The white-hot anger was gone, leaving only a cold sorrow inside you as you were confronted with your own admission. You hugged yourself as you followed it up with a much quieter, “It wasn’t your fault, Kun… It’s just been so much easier to blame you this whole time.”

“Y/N…” Kun sighed, running a hand through his hair as his tone changed from anger to remorse, his face softening. “I should’ve made sure our focus was on your career as much as it was on mine. I let my ambitions become the priority for both of us instead of seriously considering yours as well. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry for blaming you the whole time. You’re right, I was a grown-up, and I made a grown-up decision.” You shook your head at yourself, staring into the dynamic flames of the fireplace. “It was so much easier to hate you for dragging me here than to hate myself for following you here.”

“I’m sorry for lying, too. When I told you I stopped loving you. I really thought that would get you to leave, to go back home where you could be happy again. But it was just needlessly cruel. I’m so, so sorry.” His voice was shaking, and when you looked back at him again, you could see that the whites of his eyes were pink.

“I didn’t go back home because it wouldn’t have meant anything to go back without you,” you finally answered his question, swallowing the lump in your throat. “When we first moved here, and I’d imagine going back home, I would always imagine us going back together. Because it wouldn’t have been home without you, for me. That’s why I stayed. Not because you were here—I really never wanted to see you again. But because you—the you that I wanted, that still loved me—weren’t there.”

“I’m sorry…” He blinked and the first of his tears slipped slowly down his cheek. “I know I said that a lot the first time we did this but… I wasn’t apologizing for the right thing.”

The corners of your lips twitched with a bittersweet, cynical smile. “You didn’t know any of this stuff the first go around.”

“I did know that you loved me. And I really thought that if you could just get over that one little thing then you could be happy again. I underestimated you and what it meant for you to love me.”

“It wasn’t that simple…” You repeated feebly. “You made me happy too, Kun. I should’ve told you that, all of this, everything, instead of pushing it down and letting myself resent you just because that’s what seemed easier at the time. That wasn’t fair to you.”

“None of this was fair on either of us.”

“But saving our relationship wasn’t your sole responsibility, Kun. We were partners, it was on both of us, and I didn’t try.”

“It was everybody’s fault and nobody’s fault,” Kun declared with another sigh, dropping his body back down in the armchair.

“Yeah…” You sat down in the corner of the couch. “It was…”

The apartment was silent as you took another sip of your eggnog, and Kun wiped his damp cheeks.

“So… now what?” You prompted as you met his gaze.

“You still like jigsaw puzzles?”

Kun and you worked together on a puzzle on the floor of his living room. Once put together, it would show a full Winter Wonderland scene. He had put on Christmas music in the background, and your assembly was interspersed with sing-alongs, easygoing conversation, and long, comfortable stretches of silence.

When the puzzle was about halfway done, you let out a big yawn, briefly checking the time on your phone. “Oh, jeez, it’s after midnight already.”

“I think that’s plenty for tonight,” Kun declared, slowly getting to his feet. “We can finish up the rest tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” You twisted around in place to crack your back.

“I’ll go get you some pajamas.” He gave your head a gentle pat before walking off, taking both of your now-empty eggnog mugs with him.

He returned just a couple minutes later in a pair of lounge pants and simple longsleeve shirt, holding out a stack of clothes to you. “Here.”

“Thanks, Kun,” you accepted them gratefully. “But you really didn’t have to—”

“Y/N, were you seriously going to wear the same clothes for like a week straight?” He raised an eyebrow doubtfully.

“I mean, you have a washing machine, presumably.”

“And you would’ve… stood by the washing machine naked? Until they were done?”

You covered your face with one hand as you laughed. “Good point, good point.”

“Seriously, it’s fine.”

“Thanks.”

In the bathroom, you fully appraised the clothes as you changed, a funny sort of tug in your chest when you recognized the sweatshirt he’d given you. It was a plain black crewneck sweatshirt, save for a small rose embroidered on the left wrist, just above the cuff. It had always been your favorite of his to take and wear for yourself before.

The sweatshirt was as soft as you’d remembered, and when you put it on, you were awash not only in Kun’s scent, but warm, happy memories of being held, loved, treasured, safe. You folded up your clothes and left them on the bathroom countertop.

The fire had been put out when you returned to the living room, and the lights on the tree unplugged.

“I uhm, I’m not sure where you wanted me to put my clothes, so they’re on the—” You cut yourself off when you looked up from where you’d been fiddling with the hem of the sweatshirt to see Kun looking at you with an off-putting, oddly mournful look of tenderness. “What? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved off your concerns, his voice tight. “That’s fine, I’ll throw them in the wash with mine tomorrow.”

“Do you have some extra bedding I can use out here?”

“What?”

“I mean, your couch already looks super comfy, but a real pillow would sort of be nice…”

“No, no, you can take my bed,” he shook his head. “I’ll take the couch.”

���Kun, I’ll be fine out here for a few nights,” you pushed back. With humor in your tone, you added, “You’ve done enough sleeping on the couch to last the rest of your life, okay? I think it’s my turn.”

He seemed to understand your joke, but also the sincere intent behind it, and held up his hands in surrender as a smile cracked across his face. “Alright, I know when I’m beat. I’ll get you some pillows and blankets.”

Kun set up your makeshift bed on the couch for you, with a couple of real pillows, a very fluffy blanket, and heavy quilt to go over that. He refilled your water glass from dinner, and set that down on the coffee table for you.

“Oh, phone charger—”

“I have one.” You stopped him with a hand on his arm, going to grab your purse and root through it. “I keep an extra on me. Never know when your phone is going to die reviewing notes in a random café.”

“Right. Cool.” He watched you plug it into the outlet closest to the pillow end of the couch, then stand back up.

“Well, goodnight, Kun. Thanks for letting me stay here.”

“Goodnight, Y/N. Thanks again for coming, and uh, sorry for getting you stuck out here…”

You sat down on the couch, smiling up at him. “Hasn’t been all bad.”

“Yeah, it hasn’t,” he agreed with a chuckle.

When he still hadn’t moved, you realized the both of you must have been debating the same thing. Should you hug goodnight?

To save yourselves, you opened your arms in a half-invitation, and Kun bent over to give you a one-armed hug, briefly rubbing your back before standing back up. He gave you a final hesitant smile and nod. “Night.”

“Night.”

As you laid down, you could hear him walking across the room, and pause at the threshold. Just as you’d finished readjusting your covers and getting cozy with your head on the pillow, the lights were turned off, and you listened to Kun walk all the way into his room and the door creak closed behind him.

You watched the last of the dying embers in the fireplace as you started trying to sort through your muddied thoughts. You and Kun no longer had the awkwardness of bitter exes, but it had just been replaced with a new kind of awkwardness. Now that you didn’t hate each other, what was left? How did you feel about each other?

You still hadn’t figured it out by the time you fell asleep.

Full-body shivers woke you up, and you blinked rapidly trying to readjust to your surroundings. You pulled the blankets tighter around you, but that did practically nothing. Every inch of you from your fingers to your toes felt like a block of ice, and your muscles were shaking to try to generate some kind of heat. Your teeth even chattered a couple of times.

A hasty look at your phone showed you that it was only two and a half hours after you’d fallen asleep. You turned on your phone flashlight, looking around the walls for the thermostat. Having spotted it at the start of the hallway, you made the hasty decision to throw your blankets off you and run over to it as quick as possible, fumbling to look at the controls. But as best you could tell, the heat was definitely turned on, and it was set to a perfectly comfortable temperature.

You felt terrible for what you were about to do, but you were going to get hypothermia sooner than you would get back to sleep at this rate. Lightly knocking on Kun’s bedroom door, you paid attention for any signs of life. After a moment of no response, you knocked again, a bit louder.

There was a groan from inside, followed by a half-intelligible, confused mumble of your name.

“Yeah, Kun, it’s me,” you responded through the wood.

You heard the sounds of him rolling out of bed, then lumbering over to the door. He opened it, rubbing one of his eyes.

“Y/N, what are you— Shit, it’s a fucking meatlocker out there!” He exclaimed, grabbing at his own arms.

“Yeah, I know. I’m really sorry to wake you up, but I can’t seem to figure out your thermostat and it’s freezing out here.”

Kun pushed past you, shutting his door tight behind him before going to inspect the thermostat himself. “Doesn’t make sense… The heat should be working fine…”

“Oh.”

“God, of course it’s fucking broken,” he grumbled. “I’m sorry about this, Y/N. I’ll go call the maintenance line right now.”

Just a moment later, and you heard more swearing from his room. He came back out with his phone in hand. “Got a text from the management company… Heat in the whole complex is busted, but they can’t get anybody out here until the roads are clear.”

“Shit…”

He spun on his heel back towards the bedroom. “Come on, it’s at least a little warmer in my room. You’ll freeze to death out here.”

You followed him in without complaint, and he shut the door firmly behind you. He grabbed a towel from his attached bathroom and stuffed it under the crack of the door.

You couldn’t see much about his bedroom in the dark except for a few vague shapes, but the air felt noticeably warmer in here than it had been in the living room. Kun opened up a couple of drawers on what you were now realizing was a dresser, and grabbed a hoodie for himself, then handed you a zip-up hoodie. It was big enough to fit the sleeves of your sweatshirt through, and you could feel the chattering of your teeth dying down.

Kun sat down on one side of the bed, and indicated to the other side for you. You obliged, following his lead to slip under the covers. The sheet, blankets, and heavy quilt were still pleasantly warm, and you rubbed your frozen feet together in contentment. You accidentally bumped Kun’s leg, a flash of accidental heat.

“Oh! Sorry, sorry!” You jerked your limbs as far back as you dared without leaving the security of the blankets.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re an icicle,” Kun said disapprovingly.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“Come here,” he sighed and lifted the blankets in between you two.

“Wh—”

“I’m not going to let you freeze to death literally right next to me. Either you come here or I go over there.”

You shuffled a couple inches closer to him, but either he was impatient, or wasn’t sure that you’d follow through, because he moved to close the gap himself, meeting you in the middle and wrapping an arm around you to pull you closer to him.

You gulped, and hoped he couldn’t hear it. “That’s a lot better, actually.”

“I was always much warmer than you,” he pointed out.

Readjusting to lay on your side facing the same direction as him, your hand brushed against his that was slung over your middle.

“God, you feel like you’re about to lose your fingers to frostbite, too.” He covered your hand with his.

You instinctively spread your fingers so his would slot together with them, and it felt so familiar and comfortable that you almost burst into tears again on the spot.

“Y/N?”

“Y-Yeah?” You tried and failed to keep your voice casual.

“I think you’re cutting off my circulation now.”

“Oh God, sorry!” You loosened the death grip you didn’t even realized you’d had on his appendages.

“It’s alright,” he reassured you. “Are you warming up?”

You nodded hastily. “For sure. Thank you, again.”

“I was thinking… about earlier.”

“Kun, for real, if there was ever a time not to fight.”

“No, it’s not— Well it is about that, but I’m not looking for a round two, promise.”

“Okay…”

“I was thinking… about how I didn’t really accept your apologies, and you didn’t accept mine.”

“That’s fine, Kun. Not every apology is made to be accepted.”

“I know, I know. And I’m not fishing for your forgiveness right now. I was just thinking, about how I’m kind of relieved, that we still haven’t you know, finally gotten our closure or whatever.” His breath was getting quicker. “Because I don’t want this to be over, actually. And closure feels like it’d really be the end.”

You squeezed your eyes shut tight and opened them back up again, staring into the inky darkness. “What do you mean by that, Kun?”

“I mean… When I said I never stopped loving you, I didn’t just mean when we broke up. I still do.”

“So you… What? Want to get back together?” Your voice was a hoarse whisper.

“At least talk about it,” he confirmed. “I’ll do anything you want, lovey. Complete restart, take you on a new first date, or we can even just try to be friends first. I’m not saying we have to jump right back in where we left off. I think we need to leave space for the people we’ve become since then but… I know I want to try again.”

You swallowed down your sniffles as you turned over to finally face him. Despite the lack of light, you could find every feature on Kun’s face, holding a caged hopefulness in them. You gently caressed his cheek with the back of your knuckles.

“Okay…” You murmured. “We can try again. I-I want that too.”

You caught just a flicker of Kun’s bright grin before you were tangling your fingers in his shaggy locks and pulling his mouth to yours. It was somehow even better than you remembered, than you had imagined, because it felt like coming home all at once. Like all of you, body, mind, soul, heart, had come home.

Kun kissed you back just as ardently, tangling his legs with yours and pulling you even closer—if it were even possible. One of his hands cupped your cheek while the other wrapped around your waist, bunching in the fabric at the small of your back.

When your lungs were screaming for air and you were light-headed for more than one reason, you broke away, resting your forehead against his.

“Looks like neither of us followed the no gift rule,” Kun said in the negligible space between your mouths, the tip of his nose bumping yours for a moment. “I think I had my heart gift-wrapped for you from the moment I saw you again.”

You chuckled as you stole one, two more kisses from him. “You’re as cheesy as ever, pooks.”

“I have three years’ worth of lines like that stocked up,” he teased, giving you another peck. “And you’re stuck in here with me until next year, lovey.”

sequel :･ﾟ✧｡･:･*

⤷ 2023 hallmark movie marathon | blog masterlist

[good-beanswrites]

Kazui adopts Amane

Kazui marries Shidou

Amane goes ballistic

LMAO she can never be free 💀💀💀I shifted things to work as a single silly scene, but omg it was incredibly fun picturing a feature-length comedy of Amane trying increasingly ridiculous ways to sabotage Kazui's wedding. For this scene, though, it was fun enough picturing what a quirky life these two would live on their own 😂

When Kazui told Amane the good news, she did a victory lap around his apartment. It was a silent, stoic march that made him look on in worry, but she assured him it was all in celebration. 

Now the day had finally arrived. She checked the clock, eagerly awaiting the newest arrival to the household. Kazui said he’d still be taking things slowly, but asking this mystery partner to move in was a huge step if you asked her.

And she was thrilled. No one had listened to her voice throughout all of Milgram, she’d been put through trial after trial, but things had finally made the switch for the better. She was getting her reward for her behavior. The prisoners listened to her pleas and allowed her to go home with Kazui. She’d have no more controlling wardens and sinful doctors hounding her all the time. She’d have a picture perfect home. She went from not having any kind fathers, and by the end of the night she’d practically have two.

Kazui had been a bit vague about this new man he’d been getting serious with. He said Amane may not approve of him, but she should give him a try. She denied all his concerns – she knew Kazui was likely still embarrassed about moving in with a man in the first place. So, as any perfect daughter would do, she proved her acceptance by reciting some facts that she’d researched about homosexuals. She wore the shirt with cats and rainbows that Mahiru had bought for her. In the days leading up to their meeting, she asked Kazui for the man’s name so she could pray for him before bed each night. 

Each time, however, Kazui found a way to skirt around the conversation and avoid telling her the name. That was no issue to her. It wasn’t anything new since coming to live with him. Sometimes he planned on cooking noodles for dinner, but felt the need to speak vaguely on the topic until the dishes were on the table. Sometimes he needed to fix a home appliance, but crept around the place with the type of secrecy you’d expect from a burglar. Amane was learning that he was simply not a forthcoming man, and that wasn’t anything to worry about.

She checked the clock again. And again. Kazui had come home late from his shift, and was busy showering in the bedroom. He said he’d hurry out, but she was thrilled with the responsibility of answering the door. She would get to welcome their new guest into the home and make a good first impression. She would do this perfectly. 

She paced the kitchen, keeping her arms behind her back like Kazui had a tendency to do. She crept to the door, pressing her ear against it. Hearing nothing, she resumed her stiff pacing of the kitchen. She heard the water shut off, and worried Kazui would be out in time to steal away her chance at the welcome speech she’d been rehearsing. 

But then – there it was. The polite knock on the door.

“I’LL GET IT!” 

She flew across the room, throwing the door open. Her beaming expression immediately melted away.

“Oh. It’s you.” Kirisaki Shidou stood in the doorway, smiling down at her in his sweet, infuriating way. Amane had seen a few of the others since everything had ended, but she was struck with how odd he looked in casual clothing. Her frown deepened. She much preferred the prison uniform for him. 

“Hello, Amane-chan.” 

She shifted the door an inch, showing her intention to close it momentarily. “I’m sure Kazui-san would appreciate your visit, but we have other plans tonight. You should come back another time. We’re expecting a very, very important guest.”

“Are you now?” Shidou’s smile didn’t fade, like she hoped it would. Instead, it almost seemed to grow warmer. 

Amane moved the door another inch closed. She felt rage swirling in her chest. What if Kazui’s partner showed up now? What if her speech was ruined because Shidou had absolutely no manners and wouldn’t leave when asked?

“We are. I’m terribly sorry–” the look on her face communicated just how sorry she really was “–but you’ll have to leave. It would be horribly rude to our guest if you’re still here.”

“I see… you don’t wish to be rude to this guest.”

She shifted it more closed. “Precisely.”

“Well, then, I suppose I can come in? It would be rude to make me wait out here, would it not?”

Amane scoffed. “I just said –” Her eyes widened. He smiled. 

Reaching above her, Kazui opened the door all the way. His voice boomed. “Shidou-kun, I’m so glad you could make it!”

Amane looked at Shidou’s expression. Then Kazui’s. Then back to Shidou’s. She took a steady breath. So this is how it was, mm? 

She grabbed the edge of the door and slammed it shut.

[deadboy-edwin]

Believing the god of Fear (Charles Rowland x Edwin Payne)

2.3k words

Neither Edwin nor Charles had expected to meet a Greek god in any of their cases. Especially not in such a simple one, which had started out as a simple request to exorcise a little girl. However, Edwin supposed that it was quite apt that the god they’d encounter would be the god of fear. Quite on the nose, really. “All I ask is to see your worst fear. That should be sufficient for me to break through this curse.”

I am lowkey nervous about posting to a new fandom, but I have been informed by @a-bisexual-panicking that rule 1 of this fandom is people always want Payneland fics... So. Hi. Please be nice to me lmao.

This fic is also available on AO3, if anyone wants to check that out!

Neither Edwin nor Charles had expected to meet a Greek god in any of their cases. Especially not in such a simple one, which had started out as a simple request to exorcise a little girl. 

However, Edwin supposed that it was quite apt that the god they’d encounter would be the god of fear. Quite on the nose, really. 

The god himself, Phobos, is far from what the legends had made him out to be. From his research, Edwin had expected a wrath-filled, vengeful, giant to stand before them once they’d finally found Phobos. Instead, the being they encounter is far from anything either of the boys would have ever expected.

First of all, the books had said that Phobos was a man. 

The being that stands before them, however, is a pale-skinned girl, not older than 7 years of age, with dark, flowing hair, and pitch black eyes. 

“I presume, you have come for the girl,” Phobos says in greeting, soft voice underlied with a vibration of power, despite the less than intimidating physical form. “You have arrived just in time, Charles Rowland and Edwin Payne.” 

Edwin tilts his head questioningly at the lack of hostility in the god’s tone. “Should I dare to hope that you would just let her go?” 

A laugh. 

“If only it could be so easy,” the deity says in the child’s high voice. Black eyes look upwards towards the duo. “If I could depart from this vessel, I would. Yet I am cursed to live as a mortal.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Charles snaps from beside Edwin, crossing his arms. “You’re a god. Do you even need to possess a living human?”

“This is not a possession. I am not a ghost.” Phobos says with a scowl, which admittedly looks adorable on the little girl’s face. “A powerful witch bound my essence to Marie. One of the last believers in the old gods.”

“But- you’re a god? Can’t you just- can a witch even overpower a god?” 

“That doesn’t mean as much as it once did, young man.” Phobos says wearily. “Eons ago, we were worshipped. Adored. Sustained by the godliness the humans had bestowed on us. Yet in this modern age, as believers dwindle in number, I am reduced to a shadow of my former glory. Do I look like I enjoy being a little girl?”

Charles snorts at the last bit of Phobos’ statement. Edwin elbows him, shooting his best mate a sharp look. “Charles meant no offense, of course. You will have to forgive him.” 

“No harm done, since I, too, find this situation absolutely ridiculous.” Phobos says airily, waving off Charles’ disrespect, nonplussed. “I wish to move on. To where gods lay rest. Unfortunately, I don’t have such luxuries. The curse entails having to live Marie’s mortal life, and die Marie’s mortal death. She is my descendant, which I suppose is how it was so easy to bind me to her.” 

A god should be able to unravel a curse quite easily, Edwin thinks to himself.. 

“I’m a dying god, Edwin Payne. I need power to break this curse.” 

“And how, precisely, would you get power?” Edwin queries, raising one perfectly shaped eyebrow at their adversary, apparently turned client. Turns out, the case of Phobos was more similar to all of their other cases- one who wanted to pass on. 

The sad look that Phobos gives the two boys is an answer of its own. Edwin already knows the answer, even before the deity speaks once more. 

“I am the god of fear and panic, am I not?”

When Edwin and Phobos come to an agreement on a course of action, it is simple. 

Too simple. 

Feed the god with fear. 

“One will be enough,” Phobos states with finality, nodding to himself. “All I ask is to see your worst fear. That should be sufficient for me to break through this curse.”

Edwin is the first to offer his outstretched hand to the figure in front of them. It’s an odd shift from the duo’s usual dynamic. Charles is typically the one who is quick to defend, brandishing his bat against whatever threat stands before them, the Victorian boy trusting enough in his companion to not even twitch a muscle in the face of whatever horrors they confront. 

Yet in this instance, Edwin is the first to move. 

Edwin has no fear he has yet to face- he's been through the depths of hell. He's lived (pun not intended) through horrors most could not even imagine. There's nothing that Phobos could show him that Edwin hadn't already been through---

"Oh fuck no," Charles' words are almost vicious, his hand coming to circle around Edwin's wrist, fingers tightening around pale skin and a long sleeve. "No." 

"Don't be ridiculous, Charles." Edwin says in his typical matter-of-fact tone, unbothered as ever. "I will be fine. As Phobos said, it would all be in my mind. This was my idea, after all. So, would you be so kind as to release me?" 

Charles shakes his head, his eyes wild, almost manic, as he looks at his best mate. "You've been through hell twice. I promised myself you'd never return there. Not even in your mind." 

Edwin opens his mouth to speak, to contradict Charles' point, but Charles is quick to hold out his open palm to Phobos, glaring at the god vehemently. "Get on with it, then."

"As you wish," Phobos says, taking Charles' hand in his own, before Edwin is able to protest. 

“Why would you do that, Charles? You cannot just do things based on what you feel in the moment. I told you I would be perfectly fine.” 

Charles’ mouth opens and closes silently, as if he is doing his best impression of a goldfish. 

The younger ghost’s instinct would always be to protect Edwin, first and foremost. It’s easier than breathing had been, thirty years ago. Charles doesn’t even understand why Edwin is asking him this question. 

“You protect me, I protect you. That’s you and me, mate.” 

Charles doesn’t know where his answer comes from. As the words leave his lips, though, he knows that they are true. 

Edwin’s stoic expression melts into something Charles can’t interpret. He steps forward, closer to Charles, green eyes intensely surveying every single inch of Charles’ face with a searching look.

“I’m fine, Edwin. It was nothing, really.” It’s true. Charles can’t even recall the terror he had supposedly faced in order to allow Phobos to be free of the curse. “I don’t even remember it. Perhaps he took it away?” 

“Perhaps,” Edwin says thoughtfully, his lips turning downwards thoughtfully, though there is still doubt in his tone. “Are you sure you’re alright, Charles? You can talk to me about anything, you know that right?” 

“I know, mate.” Charles says, his trademark grin crossing his features. He isn’t even lying. Job successfully jobbed, and the worst part hadn’t even been that bad. “I mean it though, I don’t even remember it. Lay off, will you? You love me too much.”

The last few words leave Charles’ lips without thought- and once his brain catches up to his mouth, he bites his tongue. Had it been too soon? Hell hadn’t been too long ago, and Charles knew they had yet to discuss Edwin’s confession. He opens his mouth to- apologize? To try and joke around? He doesn’t even know at this point- 

Edwin saves Charles from having to stumble around his thoughtless comment by stepping closer to the other boy, a hand placed on the shoulder of Charles’ coat, in what Charles thinks is comfort, or reassurance. Reassurance that he hadn’t gone too far, that he hadn’t mucked things up between them irreversibly, or even temporarily with his comment. 

“Oh Charles,” Edwin’s silky, soft voice says gently, his pale, slender hand coming to brush against Charles’ face. “How could you ever think I was in love with you?” 

Charles should be relieved. This should be a weight off his shoulders. Sure, he’d told Edwin that they had forever to figure out what his confession had meant. He had meant it- truly, from the depths of his dead, unbeating heart, despite not knowing where to even begin with all of it. He had been willing to. Despite Crystal, despite his own unhealed trauma- he knew that he would do anything and anything for Edwin. 

Instead, Edwin’s words burn ice cold. Terror flows through Charles’ frozen veins, sheer chaos swirling in his mind. This is worse than hell, worse than Death herself coming to take his soul—

“I- what- mate-” 

Edwin’s thin lips take on a smile that should be familiar, comforting, but instead, his porcelain features are twisted in a mockery of the softness typically reserved for Charles, and Charles alone. 

He leans in closer to Charles, their noses almost brushing. 

For the first time in thirty years, Charles feels his breath catch in his throat. 

Despite seeing Edwin every single day, almost never being apart for the totality of thirty years, Charles finds himself caught off guard by the realization that Edwin is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen in his life (and afterlife).

Even if Edwin is being unspeakably cruel.

Especially then, it seems. 

Charles doesn’t have a spare second to process what these thoughts mean, because he can almost feel Edwin’s breath on his skin, the slight shift in the ear when he blinks, long lashes sending miniscule motions in the air, so insignificant yet so palpable. 

“Always the slow one,” Edwin croons, green eyes glimmering, his face still painfully close to Charles’ own. “Sweet, stupid, Charles. Why would I want you? So impulsive, so angry. Almost as if-” 

Edwin cuts himself off with a vicious grin. It’s almost evil. 

“Almost as if you can’t be loved. Or love at all.” 

A meow that almost sounds like a laugh, coming from somewhere in the periphery, is the last that Charles hears. 

Charles is gasping for oxygen his incorporeal body doesn’t need. He doesn’t even realize it, but he’s fallen to the ground, eyes rabid, hands clutching his own face as a silent scream escapes his lips. 

Before him, is Marie. 

The dark eyes staring out of the young girl’s body are filled with pity as they look at Charles. A small hand comes to stroke Charles’ back in silent comfort as he breaks down.

The scene stays that way for several minutes, tears escaping from Charles’ eyes at some point. He can’t even figure out at which point he’d started crying. Silent screams and choked gasps dissolve into sobs.

“Fuck,” Charles gasps out, sniffling, his hands coming to angrily wipe his tears from his eyes. “What the fuck, I-” 

“For what it is worth, I am sorry, Charles Rowland.” Phobos says, true sadness accompanying the soft, high voice he spoke through. “Thank you.” 

The words of gratitude bring about white-hot emotion in the broken boy. “I didn’t do this for you.” 

“I know. Do you know why you did it though?” 

A question so similar to what Edwin- or, not Edwin, had asked in Charles’ mind. The answer is the same- that such a question doesn’t even need asking. Even now, as he heaves and sighs in exhaustion, he knows that he would suffer through anything and everything for Edwin Payne. There is no rhyme or reason to it- it’s just the way things are. There is no why. 

Charles remains silent, wiping his face angrily with the sleeve of his coat, trying to regain even the slightest semblance of composure. 

“It is interesting how my domain interacts with mortals,” the god says thoughtfully, voice gentle. “Your terror. It is pure. It shows you what matters most, doesn’t it?”

Charles jerks back to reality when he feels his hand drop into thin air. 

Marie falls gently to the floor, almost as if an invisible force is setting her down with the utmost care. Her eyes are closed, slumbering peacefully. 

There is a certain softness to the child that had not been there previously, as compared to mere moments ago. Even unconscious, innocence that had not been present before seems to radiate from her. 

It makes Charles smile, albeit the turmoil he feels inside at what he’d just experienced.

He turns to look around, to search for any sign of Phobos, but instead he is met with the sight of green eyes. 

Charles feels like he’s looking at a trainwreck. He just wants to look away, to avoid any tiny reminder of the cruelty he’d last seen in those irises, but he can’t tear his gaze from the beautiful aquamarine. 

Perhaps, this is what being in love meant, Charles finds himself thinking. Just wanting every bit of Edwin he could get, even if it was as small as his eyes being focused on Charles.

Emerald green swirl with concern as they fix on Charles. So, so different from the vicious green that had torn his very essence to shreds barely a few moments ago. 

As Edwin fusses over Charles, who is still lost in a daze, pale hands, coming to cup his face so similarly to what he’d just faced, but so different, he swears he hears another voice above Edwin’s “Charles, you went to hell for me- you should’ve let me do this for you”s, and “Please say something”s. 

“Even the worst of fears, if one is fortunate enough, are completely unfounded. Sometimes, fear is just that. Fear.” 

It is a non-voice that speaks those words, with an invisible force brushing against Charles’ cheek almost sweetly. The words snap Charles back to reality.

If the god of fear himself had said it, Charles supposed that it must be true.

He allows himself to relax into Edwin’s touch, grasping at Edwin’s sleeves desperately, needing more- but that was okay. 

As Charles himself had once said, at the stairs of hell, so long ago yet so recently, they had forever.

As always, comments, reblogs and likes are much appreciated!

My fics are my own- please do not post them on other platforms without my explicit permission.

[notsoattractivearenti]

Golf Practice (Mason Mount x Reader)

WC: 1.7K

Warnings: sexually suggestive language, cursing (minors be warned)

A/N: even tho i didn't know anything about golf, i wrote this just cuz i can't resist golfer!mase (i did some research and still don't get golf lmao). also this has been sitting on my draft for a while and i forgot to post it 💀 hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 this was not proofread so apologies for any errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍

—

“Y/N, are you ready?”

“Wait, wait,” you fixed your shirt, grabbed your golf cap – which Mason just bought for you recently just for this occasion – and put on your shoes.

You closed and locked the bedroom door. “Okay, let’s go.”

Mason took a good look at you and couldn’t stop himself from complimenting you.

“My God, Y/N,” he gulped, “you are so fucking sexy.” 

“Oh pfft,” you tried to cover the fact that he instantly made you blush, “just keep your pants on, mister.”

“Seriously though, I really mean what I say!” He laughed.

“You look so good it’s almost hard to resist.” He continued.

“Yeah yeah yeah, whatever, can we please just go???” You insisted.

“Okay, okay, off we go then.”

He grabbed the car keys then playfully slapped your butt before he sprinted his way to the car.

“Wha- Mason!” You gasped.

—

You and Mason finally arrived at the golf course. You have never been to one before, and you were a little bit stunned when you saw how big the course was.

“Mase… I thought we were going to like, smaller golf course or something.”

“Hmm, I don’t know what made you think that but this is the place I usually play with the lads.”

“And now you’re just playing… With me?”

He laughed at your question.

“Duh, this is a date, no?”

“Yeah…” You scratched your head. “I mean, I feel like this is way too big for just us. Also you know I’ve never played golf before and this kind of makes me nervous.”

Mason then leaned in and kissed you on the top of your head.

“Don’t be nervous, my love. We’re here to just simply have fun... I will teach you if you want.” He softly assured you.

You knew it was just for fun, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit – no, not a bit, very – competitive. You’re aware you can be a sore loser sometimes, and though Mason has seen that side of you a few times, you still didn’t want to be a pain in the ass when losing especially on a sport you have not even one clue about.

“Okay, but you know I still want to win, right?” You bluntly told him.

“Of course.” He nodded and smiled.

“But just so you know, I’m so good at this you probably have little to no chance of winning this time, Y/L/N.” He said smugly.

“Oh, it’s on like a prawn who yawns at dawn, Mount.”

—

The entire time, Mason was the one driving the golf cart. You both were chatting away while your eyes were wandering around the course.

“Imagine having a course this big in your backyard,” you said to yourself, “pretty hard to maintain, I assume.”

“I mean, you sure can pay people to take care of it.” Mason chimed in.

“Yeah, if I have the money to pay them.” You shook your head.

“If you have a golf course in your backyard, then you must definitely have tons of money beforehand, Y/N!” He laughed.

“Do you see our future house with a golf course, hun?” You asked him.

“I don’t know, maybe?” He answered. “But I want a small football pitch more, though.”

“Yes, that sounds more like us. I like that idea as well.” You agreed to him.

“I would love to practice with our kids there one day. That would be great, right Y/N?”

You smiled. You do love the idea of playing football with your future little family in the backyard one day.

“Sounds wonderful.”

—

“Okay, I’ll go first.” Mason said as he took two golf clubs from the bag, then handed one for you.

“Watch how I play closely, yeah?”

“Mmm, gladly.” You responded jokily, as you stood slightly behind him.

This time, you made him blush. He shook his head and cleared his throat, then fixed his posture before making a move.

“Nice butt, by the way.” You teased him.

“Y/N!” He briefly tilted his head back and squeezed his eyes. “Focus, please.”

“Okay, okay, sorry,” you giggled, “go on baby.”

He got into position and swung the club. You both then carefully watched where the ball landed.

“Alright, that’s my mark,” Mason pointed out at where the ball was, “try to hit your ball further if you can.”

“But I doubt you can.” He sarcastically murmured.

“Uh, I heard that!”

You then walked back to the initial spot and tried to imitate Mason’s posture before swinging the ball.

“Mase, is this correct?” You asked.

“Hmm, not quite.” He replied.

“Is it alright if I stand behind you to help?” He politely asked – a real gentleman he is.

“Yeah, go ahead.” You agreed. “Just try not to get hard, yeah?”

He immediately snorted and laughed.

“I’ll take my chances.” He funnily responded back.

He stood right behind you and started helping fix your posture until it felt right.

“Don’t hold back while swinging. Put your full strength on it.” He suggested.

“Like this?”

You gave yourself a try at swinging the golf club. You didn’t see it but you almost hit him on the head with the club.

“Whoop, careful!” He put down the club. “Here, I’ll guide you.”

He put his arms around yours and carefully guided you the right way to swing. With him gently helping you this close, you couldn’t exactly pay good attention to what he was trying to teach you. 

“This feels so intimate.” You blurted it out.

He chuckled.

“Focus, Y/N. You want to win, no?”

You nodded. My God, I love it when he is in this serious mode, you thought to yourself. The truth was you started to feel slightly turned on, but you were trying to resist your urge since you also genuinely wanted to learn how to play golf – you were basically fighting for your life. You were supposed to learn and practice with your “personal coach” but your mind was filled with filthy thoughts about the things you wanted your boyfriend – who was guiding you through your first-ever golf game at the moment – to do to you.

“Y/N, are you still with me?”

Whoops, you just realized you were so caught up with your thoughts you were spaced out for a bit – and of course Mason noticed.

“Yeah, yeah, I am. Sorry.”

After a few tries, you told Mason you finally felt ready to take your first swing. He stepped back and cheered you on.

“Let’s go my love!”

You got into position then tried to swing your golf club, but you failed to hit the ball. Both you and Mason suddenly burst into laughter.

“Y/N, you’re the prettiest but what a terrible golfer you are!” Mason made fun of you.

“Shut up Mase! That was only the first try!” You defended yourself.

You gave it another try, this time you did hit the ball but it was definitely not a good shot. The ball only landed around 30 centimeters across from you – you didn’t hit the ball hard enough and obviously, Mason’s was way further.

“Fuck!” You yelled in frustration.

“That’s fine, baby, you’re fine!” Mason rubbed your shoulders and kissed your head. “Well done nevertheless.”

—

At the end of the game, it was clear that Mason won. You don’t like to lose, no, but you were totally fine losing to him since golfing was very new to you. But for someone who could be very impatient most times, golf actually helped you exercise your patience even for a tiny bit. At the beginning, you repeatedly expressed a lot of frustration especially when the ball didn’t get into the hole, but slowly you learned how to be more calm and eventually after a few rounds less swear words came out of your mouth. Also, having a cute, hot date did make it a lot more fun.

Mason was happy to beat you but he lowkey wanted you to win – just because he loves to see you win. He never thought you would agree on a golf date, knowing you have never played before or have never shown any interest in the sport. He initially thought of doing miniature golf with you, but somehow he changed his mind and brought you to an actual golf course instead. He even bought you a brand new golf cap merely because he got so excited to go golfing with you. He also really enjoyed helping you practice, he thought it was the best thing that happened today.

“This was so fun, my love. Thanks for doing this with me.” He said at the end of the date.

He then gave you a quick kiss on your lips.

“Fun for you, meh for me.” You playfully rolled your eyes.

“What can I say? I’m just that good.” He bragged.

“Mmhm, I’ll give it to you this time. Next time, I’m going to beat your ass.” You said to him.

He grinned widely and patted your head.

“Sure, kid. Looking forward to the next one. And the other next ones.”

—

Now back at home, after you changed your clothes you saw Mason sitting at the backyard, cleaning the used golf clubs before storing them. You decided to join him there – you quietly approached him then hugged him from behind. He was a little surprised – even jumped out of his seat a little – when you did that but he tried to hide it from you.

“I knew you were coming, I can smell your perfume from afar.” This was his attempt to save his face.

“Oh I believe you.” You giggled as you kissed his cheek.

“You know, Mase,” you gently caressed his arm and seductively whispered into his ear, “I would very much love it if you smash me like you smashed the golf balls today.”

His eyebrow was raised quickly and he immediately turned his head towards you.

“Oh, really?”

You smirked.

“Mmhmm… Consider that as your prize for today.”

“Yeah? Do you really want me to uh, “smash” you as hard as I did to those balls?” He bit his lip as he teased you.

“Harder.” You emphasized.

“Well, since you asked for it…” Mason stood up, picked you up then started kissing your neck and lips, “it is my duty to deliver.”

—

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover

[gem-de-lune]

Helloo! Thank you for all the readings ever since and for the update today! My question is abt you if its not too intruding. If it is, you could just ignore this! That’s totally fine i just got curious because i am a believer of energy and vibrations but i don’t know the specifics of it yet such as to how to communicate or protect them and sorts. I just think tarot is just one way to go around this.

Anyways, how did you get into tarot reading? And how are you doing your practice to improve your intuition(?), if thats the right term for it😅

Aside from helpful and hopeful, I find your readings interesting. I feel like you’re more attuned to people’s energy as opposed to the other readers i see online. You seem more detailed because the other readers comes off as general when they do read like it’d make me think ‘isn’t that just common sense?’

I didn’t know before that people you read can give permission or not if they like 😲 Maybe it’s because it’s the first time I’ve seen a daily reading of someone but how exactly does that work. To what part of the person exactly are you asking? Also, I remember one of your readings where you asked all members and that there were members who were much more open and quicker to respond. I don’t know why but i just imagined little souls of them lining up and all 😭

Oh, when you read do you see a vision on your head or do you hear words? And how does your practice differ from others?

Sorry i thought I was going to ask a few questions only but more questions pop up as I typed this haha. I’m actually curious more than I thought. Again if all this feels too intrusive you don’t have to answer! Sometimes, my curiosity just gets to me.

Thanks again btw! We really appreciate you 🧡

Oooooh i will answer to the best of my ability since a few of yall have been asking something similar and this ask has all those questions compiled lmao.

A- I got into Tarot by essentially ordering a deck and just started doing personal readings for myself right away. I used Tumblr and TarotForum.net (not active to use anymore, but you can research card combinations here, and it is very helpful). I highly recommend just starting with the regular Rider Waite deck bc you need to learn what the most generic cards mean to make things easy later.

B- As for how i practice and improve, as I got more familiar and understanding, i realized there were basically multiple ways to connect energetically for a tarot reading. you could connect to a higher power/diety, or to an individual's subconsious/energy. From there, I began meditating- specifically chakra training, awareness meditations, and Kundalini Awakening Meditation to train my intuition and spiritual connections. At that time, I was connecting to what I call "the universe" mainly. However, the Universe is very finnicky. Sometimes they answer me, and sometimes they do not, and there is no way of me forcing it. I did not realize this until a bit later ofc bc sometimes when you start out, you are not sure of how you should be feeling or what feelings to trust.

But yeah so as I worked on my Chakra training I kind of naturally gravitated more towards people rather than only the Universe, because it makes for a more accurate palatable reading in simple human terms. The Universe and Dieties will always try to tell you more profound and big picture things, but sometimes you do not need all of that. You just need the most simple explaination. So in most instances, I request for the Universe to assist- but only assist rather than getting all my answers from them. And I ask them to be simple and specific on purpose otherwise the message is way too philosophical and weird bc they are trying to tell me the grand plan of things rather than the details- which is what Humans are more focused on. Reading by connecting to the individual makes it more personable and easy to understand.

C- Now as to how I connect with individuals, I do this in about 3 steps that vary. 1st, I make sure I am able to focus my mind. I do this through some breathing exercises that take a few seconds to a minute, and maybe a short meditation. In particular i keep my eyes closed and have a ritual of blowing onto my deck (idk why it just centers me) then I inhale with it against my nose, then blow out one more time with my head tilted up. I like to visualize sending out shimmering wind that travels to where it needs to be and sends me there. At this point, and let's use Seunghan for example, i will see the person I am connecting to.

They could be doing anything, walking down the street, in a cafe, at home, etc. In Seunghan's case he is usually walking around on the streets or at a public space sitting like at a cafe. Maybe I will call out to him or tap him on the shoulder. He looks up and I hold out my hand. Whether he takes it or not is the permission. That is if I can even get that far though.

I can be stopped at any point. Whether I am unable to visualize the air I blow out travelling, or unable to see the person I attempt to connect to, or maybe i try to force it thinking it's me and the person looks weird (has a weird smile, weird expression, or looks warped), or even if they simply don't acknowledge me at all. All of these are the permission indicators. How far I get insidcates how willing they are to share anything at all.

In the case of the last vibe check attempt, I was stifled from just the air blowing. I thought maybe I was not focusing, so I tried more after meditating, but rather than the normal enviornment I was met with a door to which I knocked on to request entry. Upon entering, I was met with some darkness and just weird expressions from Seunghan and one other member I could not place. But all were just standing around staring at me like an intruder. I could not see all their faces which means some did not want me to know what they were feeling at all. So I decided that was a no and I needed to go for now.

Now when it comes to visualizing like this, it is so much faster, more fleeting, and less detailed than what I am describing. It's the vagueness of a fleeting dream almost. Which is why meditating and being focused is important bc every small sensation is a factor that changes the enviornment.

When I do the Vibe checks for all members- I've mentioned before about how "so and so wanted to go first" lol and it IS kinda similar to tiny voices in my head but since it's energy it's just a vibe. I'll ask "who wants to go first" and in my head like a mantra it'll be like "Sohee Sohee Sohee Wonbin Wonbin SOHEE SOHEE Eunseok SOHEE" and some will back off and wait their turn and others will go back and forth for a while before I get annoyed 🥴. The event is similar to when you have a song stuck in your head. The ones that usually care the least about the order are Anton and Sungchan, also sometimes Shotaro. Eunseok likes to be first a lot and so does Wonbin. Sohee it just depends. I usually do Seunghan first regardless so he is never part of those fights lol.

Anyways a lot of this is basic intuition and rather than really detailed visions it is just feeling. You know like how you meet your friend's eyes and you immediately know what they are thinking or wanting to say? It is like that. As to how I came to know how to do that I have absolutley no clue- it is just something I eventually started doing naturally when doing readings and it has been very accurate ever since.

I hope this makes sense lolol i kinda went too in depth but I hope this helps for anyone interested in learning to read tarot in this method. You have to be a very empathetic person though and remember to use protection like sage or crystals bc some people's energy lingers on you and it's not always good at all....

Also be careful if you just connect to dieties bc not all of them are good. USE PROTECTION!!

Hope this was insightful! If anyone has further questions about this, feel free to leave a comment? I'll answer them.

[rat-n-atty]

MEET MY SMG4 OC CLOVE!

(fucking finally)

(Also a bit of a redesign since I kinda changed my style a bit lmao)

Meet Clove! (Enid) a 22-year-old "mad" scientist who has made the poor decision to be Smg3's assistant but who exactly is she? What's her lore? What are her goals? Why is she an Ex-villain? and all the other amazing questions you might have (or don't idk) will all be answered here!...hopefully...

"Enid Gadd" (Backstory)

Enid comes from a long line of talented and successful scientists (like her grandpa, E. Gadd more on that in a bit) but she was always seen as a black sheep of the family in short.

Ever since Enid could even talk, she has always aspired to be a great scientist just like her family but it seemed like everything she did, it meant nothing so she became E. Gadd's student when she was young (considering she was practically raised by the guy damn)

It seemed like everything Enid did though was still not enough for her parents so she said "fuck it" and decided to become someone else's assistant in hopes that she could be a better scientist than all of them and that is when Smg3 comes in...

"Clove" (assistant days)

Now, Bowser was a terrible assistant so Smg3 decided to get a new one instead so one day while Clove was just walking around the Mushroom Kingdom city; she saw a purple Mario recolor next to a stand on the side of the street with a sign that said LOOKING FOR AN EVIL ASSISTANT (WILL NOT GIVE VACATION DAYS) (why would look for one in broad daylight you dumb bitc-)

So she took her shot, lied to 3 about being "inherently evil" but she also added that she was pretty good at making bombs (which was also a half-truth) so she became Smg3's assistant from that day on.

She didn't really know what to expect at first and she thought that Smg3's main goal of being a villain at the time was kinda dumb but it was better than home so she stayed and she stayed for a long time.

She eventually became evil and she got better at her inventions and her scientific studies all for the goal of ruling the world with Smg3 and telling her entire family (not including E. Gadd) to suck it...which now brings us to the YouTube Arc...

YouTube Arc (this is where shit goes down)

Smg3 and Clove had just started on their goals of making Snitch Productions but after Smg4 destroyed it all for no damn reason (like wtf man?) they wanted revenge and they wanted it bad (Smg3 more so than Clove)

So they came up with the anti-cast and got to work but after that failed Clove said "fuck it" and started her own projects again but she found out about the YouTube remote while she was doing her research ("The World's Cursed and definitely Powerful Objects that would destroy the world if laid on the wrong hands" (great title I know) ) So they all came up with the plan to steal it.

Things had started to take a toll after they had successfully stolen the Remote per sae because now Smg3 was drunk with power to the point where it was kinda concerning Clove a bit and this is the part where Clove found out Smg3's true intentions of using the YouTube remote; It was so much more than taking over Smg4's channel, it was deleting Smg4's and his crew's entire existence. Clove knew it was too much, even for 3 but she kept quiet about her conflicting feelings (but put a pin in this later )

A big-time skip later where Clove had actually caught Mario trying to steal Smg3's phone (to hopefully get everyone out of the graveyard, you probably watched the Arc lmao) but she betrayed Smg3 by giving it to Mario anyway and freeing the entire cast out of the internet graveyard in order to stop Smg3; Everyone was confused why but they didn't ask.

WOTFI 2020 (redemption arc begins)

The final battle was here and after Clove was revealed to be a traitor and helping the Smg4 crew, it's no wonder that Smg3 lost but he was never expecting his assistant, no...someone closest to him like a friend to betray him like that.

Since Clove was the only one who really knew how to work the remote (and she was the one who had it in her hands at the time) she was the one who sent Smg3 to the Internet Graveyard for the greater good of everybody else but now that 3 was gone...she felt like she had no meaning...no purpose anymore...

After she had gotten forgiveness from Susan, Smg4 offered Clove to stay with the rest of them at the castle but she declined and said she would just lock herself up in her lab instead.

Clove's lore goes on for ages...so I'll have to make a part 2

BI GUYS!

(update: there is a part 2)

[hopefull-mindset]

I've started reading The Great Gatsby (I've fallen into the reading classical literature trap 😔. I really need to finish Crime and Punishment.)

Anyhow I think it's really interesting how Asagiri chose to characterize many of the people in BSD. Especially after learning that irl Fitzgerald was more of a cynical person (at least towards the end of his life) than his animated counterpart. And it made me think of all the other characters of the show and how their characterized.

What was Asagiri's purpose as he came together with these characters? Why'd he have some characters act as their irl counterparts while others act more like the characters they wrote or people in their lives?

These aren't really questions that I wanted the answers to they were moreso just thoughts that I had. I'd love to have a peek into this man's mind and how it works

I think a lot of us have fallen into that trap LMAO. This is my favorite topic though. I could talk about this forever because Kafka Asagiri is an interesting person who has integrated a lot of literature into this one series. I don't know what goes on in this man’s mind and I know these aren't literal questions, but I am interested in sharing what I know!

As you've pointed out, some characters do act more like the people in these works written by them than the actual people. BSD isn't purely just taking these authors, their relationships, and then implementing them just like that. it also takes these authors’ literary personas, their impact socially, and their works to make them into who they are. Asagiri is doing this because it makes it more interesting, but also imagine writing about this authors where most of them lived depressing lives with qualities that don’t make uh, the type of story you want to tell.

I’m impressed with how creative he is.

I’m trying to limit myself on how much I should talk about this, but I fear that I’ll leave out important bits about how Asagiri incorporates these people into the work. I’m also just jittering and excited. Like I almost forgot to bring up the fact the reason BSD has a war narrative is because it takes Japanese authors from Meiji to Shōwa era, so about the time Western influence kicked in, forcing them to modernize and keep up with the rest of the world during what is a fairly short time for huge development like this, to post-war Japan where, you know, the Occupation of Japan is happening and they have to intake the traumatic repercussions of everything before that.

This can make The Great War functionally WW2, but obviously not a one to one match. I’m not a historian or anything, but this should come to mind for anyone who’s in the know about some Japanese history. Now that I’m bringing it up though, Mori’s attitude during the flashback with Yosano is put into context because he pretty much says himself that he needs his country to realize that they keep up with the rest of the world and that the battlefield is changing, and real life Japan did not care about how they did that.

With N, Chuuya, and Stormbringer too. I’m almost hesitant to bring this up because it’s so serious, but yes, Japan did do lethal human experimentation for that same purpose to keep up with the rest of the world and prove themselves.

Ahh, I went off track. Sorry, we were talking about how Asagiri writes characters, right? There is a lot of crossover between the real authors and their writing, so it’s sorta hard to tell with people like Dazai where the work influence ends and the the real person begins.

For me currently in my classic lit research period, I’m almost upset at myself for barley reading anything by Ryuunosuke Akutagawa because he’s my favorite character. I’ve just been so caught up doing my Oda Sakunosuke essay that I don’t have too much time for other authors. I’ve also picked up “The Similitude of Blossoms: A Critical Biography of Izumi Kyōka” recently (and A New Hamlet by Osamu Dazai, but that’s not important).

Ah, how much should I talk about.… hmm… how about Chuuya as an example of Literary Voice vs Real Person…. Lucy Montgomery and Edgar Allen Poe for Social Impact (for Japan specifically)…. and then.. Oh whatever, I’ll figure it out. One day I’ll talk about Kyouka, but not now. I’d feel ill prepared.

If you’ve ever read a poem by Chuuya Nakahara, taken in the emotion and deep feeling, and then found any fun facts about his interactions with other authors, there’s a huge contrast between those two modes that can be jarring. Im sure you can tell how that carries over to BSD. I’m impressed by how Asagiri is able to balance both the brash attitude of Chuuya and the inner literary voice that voices the emotion and care he has in him.

Edgar Allen Poe is slightly more obvious than Lucy’s influence (or maybe it’s Lucy’s, ah it depends), but both pop out at you when it’s pointed out. He was one of the first American authors to be introduced to Japan and fairly popular, but mainly we would point to Edogawa Ranpo as the most blatantly influenced by him and who his name is quite literally attached to. While Lucy Montgomery isn’t attached to anyone in particular, Anne of The Green Gables was wildly distributed in Japan when there were few english children books and became a hit.

There’s a television series too if you search for it. Any redhead, pigtail-braided girl you see in some Japanese media is because of her! It’s probably why these two have the most presence in the story currently compared to other members of the Guild and work with the Agency at times.

There are times when Asagiri will use influences outside of the author’s own catalog to create them, some literary like Albert Camus’s The Stranger and The Myth of Sisyphus (in writing characters like Dazai or Fyodor, I could make a post about that), and some just of his own anime/manga interests in other series like Jojo, Cowboy Bebop, Black Lagoon, etc. if you’re familiar.

I’d feel bad if I don’t at least show one example of this so, how about an Odasaku example with The Long Goodbye by Reymond Chandler? I was going to avoid talking about him until the essay, but I can’t help myself. Many have pointed out these parallels before, but Asagiri did point it to be his favorite book last year in an interview.

If you’ve noticed that the presentation for Dark Era in the anime comes off like a Noir film just like how Untold Origins came off like a black and white samurai film, good job! The Long Goodbye is a Noir novel about a detective named Phillip Marlowe who is unable to let go of a case involving a friend that was accused of murdering his own wife, but supposedly commits suicide and confesses to it before Marlowe is able to leave custody. By the end of the book, he uncovers the real perpetuator (a past lover of Terry Lennox’s before he was ever called by that name) and finds out where Lennox really is by poking into the story of where the message he got was sent.

He comes in with a new look and identity, and he asks if it’s too early for a gimlet. They say their last few words to each other, Marlowe flipping back and forth from acknowledging him as Terry Lennox and as a person he never knew, and then Marlowe tells him that “he’s not here anymore”. Marlowe had already told him goodbye when it was sad and lonely, so Lennox does the same here. That ends that mutual, long goodbye and he never sees Lennox again.

The immediate response I’ve see about this is how it parallels the relationship between Dazai and Odasaku. In The Day I Picked Up Dazai, just like how Marlowe brings him to his home to clean him up and meet up at the same bar for the next few months of their friendship, Odasaku also does so with Dazai and drinks a Gimlet for reasons he doesn’t know. In reality, Gimlets are a representation of the friendship between Marlowe and Lennox as it’s Lennox’s favorite drink. It makes it a little painful when Marlowe ignores him when he ask to go get a gimlet at that same bar they always went.

BEAST is more hyper specific about it by having Dazai ask the same question that Lennox asks when he gets smoked out and Odasaku asking for a gimlet with no bitters, which is specifically how Lennox takes it. Odasaku does not drink the gimlet at all though, showing that there is not friendship to start or accept or say goodbye to, as Lennox does ask Marlowe to drink a Gimlet to say goodbye to him in the letter. Just like TDIPUD is like their beginning, BEAST is their ending without ending because BEAST Dazai is not the same person he was friends with.

Odasaku fulfills being a detective and Dazai is the tragic friend with a past he doesn’t say anything about. Great. Now what I think people are missing when they entirely focus on Odasaku and Dazai when they talk about Lennox and Marlowe is that Lennox is narratively also Andre Gide.

If we were to split Lennox into three people just like his three identities, this is what it would look like:

The Friend: You help him out and don’t judge for his faults, in turn you go out to a bar with each other. It’s uneasy, but it’s worth a lot to the both of you. Eventually you have to part ways in death. (Dazai & Terry Lennox)

The Unknown: Is he someone you know? He acts like it, but he looks nothing like what you’ve encounter before. Maybe in some world you were, but that’s not now and it’s too late for this goodbye to be playing out. You let it happened though and you never see him again when he walks out that door. (BEAST Dazai & “Señor Maioranos”)

The Soldier: The past is right around the corner and its come to bite you in the ass. White hair and war memories haunting him with a scar as a reminder, he’s a reflection of you but maybe not. Who knows? (Andre Gide & “Paul Marston.”)

The initials “P.M.” of both his past name and Phillip Marlowe’s is meant to clue in how Eileen (the past lover) is connected to Lennox by her thinking of Marlowe as her past lover as she attempts to seduce him in some trance. What I’m trying to note here though is that you can take this as Lennox being another reflection of himself. It’s easy to do that reading for both Dazai and Gide as they’re both his foils and are purposely similar, but Gide aligns more with this past identity than Dazai does and retains his white hair.

Uhhh, wasn't planning to make a mini-analysis in the middle of my talking but okay. I'm leaving it off there. I went blank a lot while writing because I didn’t know what I wanted to comment on. There's too much to say about this large cast. I have way more literary fun facts and ideas to say, but nah.

[gorgeouslypink]

hii pink. i'm a little scared to post this publicly but honestly what's the worst that could happen LMAO.

anyways,, i'm in a little bit of a rough spot w the void. i've reached the point where i can confidently say that i've had enough epiphanies to know that i'm doing everything absolutely right— i know that i'm the operant power and that there's nothing beyond or above me. every morning before my 'attempts' i pep talk myself/subconscious and basically remind myself that i have no limits and there's nothing i can't achieve and all i need to do is decide. i go in so confident and completely convinced that this is 'the one',, i affirm to keep my mind focused and place my awareness on being one w myself. i see the void as a state like any other. everything about my physical body and realm is a product of my assumptions so i know i don't have to jump through hoops to separate myself from my own creations. i could go a little more into this but honestly my mindset is perfect as far as i'm concerned.

i've been like this for a few days now ?? i'm not sure how many exactly but i know it's been long enough to completely purge the old story as i never walk away from an attempt discouraged and immediately revise it. i do have a small amount of opposing thoughts from time to time but they're really weak and i shut down them down immediately with a "these thoughts are not mine and have nothing to do with me".

i'm sorry this is a lot but i just wanted to give insight on my situation before i ask why i haven't 100% tapped in yet. i completely understand if you don't have any advice for me,, i'll keep persisting no matter what.

also to anyone else who might see this; it might not mean much but please don't be discouraged by my situation !!! you and i are totally different beings so my lack of complete success has absolutely nothing to do with you,, keep pushing and don't mind me :)

Hi love! I honestly stay away from LOA asks because I didn't use LOA during my own void journey and I have not researched it enough to be at a degree of giving others advice on it, as well as my opinion that the law is very reliant of interpretation, meaning it might be understood and utilized by everyone in a different way. However, I just thought that your ask was so sweet so I'll try my best to answer. I'll start off with this quote:

"If, having read this book, having a thorough knowledge of the application and working of the law of assumption, you faithfully apply it in an effort to attain some intense desire and fail, what is the reason? If, to the question "Did you persist enough?", you can answer "Yes" – and still the attainment of your desire was not realized, what is the reason for failure?

The answer to this is the most important factor in the successful use of the law of assumption.

The time it takes your assumption to become fact, your desire to be fulfilled, is directly proportionate to the naturalness of your feeling of already being what you want to be – of already having what you desire."

-Neville Goddard, The Power of Awareness

During my own void journey, I struggled with the law. There are a few things that I manifested but others, I struggled with, including the void and I ended up entering without LOA. However, now as I've helped others on their void journeys, and have read more posts from all the amazing bloggers here as well Neville's work itself, I've realized that the thing that I was missing from my manifestation equation was exactly this: feeling my desire to be natural.

And how do you feel your desire to be natural?

"The essential feeling of naturalness can be achieved by persistently filling your consciousness with imagination – imagining yourself being what you want to be or having what you desire."

-Neville Goddard, The Power of Awareness

So the key things to take away so far is that for our desire to come into fruition, we ourselves must rest easy in the feeling of naturalness (It needs to seem natural to you). How do you do this? Be persistently imagining yourself with your desire, imagine and feel it until it feels natural to you.

This is kind of like when you keep practicing something, like a presentation over and over, pretending like you're acctually presenting. At first, you kind of forget words here and there and it just feels unnatural but as you keep practicing, doesn't it feel way more natural and eventually it is just natural and you know youre going to wing it? Same thing applies to the void. You need to keep imagining that you've already entered, with whatever scenario that may be, over and over so that entering the void and succeeding feels natural to you.

This is why I personally vouch for SATS. In SATS, you turn to your imagination and feel yourself in the feeling of the wish fufilled and keep repeating until you fall asleep, so that you fall asleep in the state of the wish fufilled, allowing for you to attain a feeling of naturalness that will guarantee your desire.

You have to understand that the basis of the law is that an assumption, though false, if persisted in, will harden into fact. Anything you can assume and create with your imagination can come true, but the way to bring your desire into fruition is by attaining the feeling of naturalness and the method I personally interpret as the best way to do do is SATS, so I recommend looking into this and this post.

I hope this helps! 💗

[fractualized]

Zdarsky’s run on Batman ends soon, thoughts? 🎤

lmao I feel like I could either toss out a dismissive one-liner or rant for like a dozen paragraphs. Guess I'll go with the latter.

We'll, I'm certainly not going to miss him at the helm. I read Batman: The Knight, and even though I agree with the criticism of the end, it showed competent storytelling with a good emotional core, which is the most basic of standards, but let's be real, this is comics, I'll take competent any day. And when his Batman run started, I had caught up on Snyder-King-Tynion Batman and was excited to follow a run in real time.

I'd say I stopped having a good time when Bruce got sent to the alternate universe. Penguin faking his death was fun. Bruce being pursued by a dramatic robot version of himself was fun. Bruce again fretting about protecting the family was… par for the course. Calling back to Zur-En-Arrh didn't bug me because I hadn't read that full storyline yet, so it felt like a gateway to digging back into lore. Bruce surviving a fall through the Earth's atmosphere was too fucking ridiculous but the kind I can look past. (Imagine you're a DC writer. You have the idea: lol what if Batman got out of this by surviving a fall from the moon. You have opened that door in your mind. Do you have the will close it or would you be like FUCK IT LET'S DO IT?)

The Red Mask universe, however, dragged any momentum at that point to a stop, and I honestly don't care enough to dig deep into all the reasons why, which I guess gets at the core of what was wrong with the Red Mask universe. (Skeleton Jim Gordon was the most interesting thing but he was just a temporary side effect or something? Whatever.)

But, of course, since I'm a Joker fan, Darwin Halliday was a major sticking point as the most boring Joker to never joke. Nearly everything Zdarsky did with Joker was a major sticking point.

It still drives me crazy that from Snyder to the Zdarsky run, we had a Joker who tried to force Bruce both away from the batfam and Selina and back to basics multiple times, so their battle could be one-on-one again. We had a Joker who, after Bruce left him to die, was notably depressed and suicidal at the end of Joker 2021. He is still that way at the start of The Man Who Stopped Laughing.

And you could follow from that with the basic beats of what Zdarsky did. You could say Joker is disillusioned with his relationship with Batman, and that's why he turns to Zur-En-Arrh, a real Batman. But no, everything has to be too fucking complicated. We have do yet another retcon of so much other stuff and say that Joker always was looking for Zur. And we have to a weird take on Three Jokers because people were really biting at the bit to get a real answer within canon like a decade after Johns wrote that nonsense?? I don't know, I don't do marketing research, but I'm pretty sure if they just quietly never addressed it, it would be fine.

And the freaking Captio stuff. Ugh. UGH. I really just. I feel like this is a product of overthinking. "Well, Batman is so thoroughly trained, it only makes sense that Joker had at least some of the same training to beat him." No. Fuck that. We don't need that. Joker rivals Batman out of sheer audacity. I like that it doesn't really make sense that a clown pushes him to the limit. I like the juxtaposition of Bruce having to do so much training and learning to survive, but Joker is a cockroach revived by the narrative. I like Joker being a plague and a mystery that Batman cannot resolve. I like Joker being essentially absurd. No, it doesn't make sense, but he's here to stab you out of love and you better know how to dodge.

So much of Batman comics now are not about telling a fun Batman story. They're stories about Batman stories, just circling back and cannibalizing each other into a total fucking mess, and putting the city on the brink of destruction so much that those stakes no longer have meaning. There has to be a writer out there who wants to get back to just telling a smaller action/detective story that makes the reader give a shit about what's happening instead of feeling like maybe they're just not getting it, like they missed homework.

And I say that as someone who started reading Morrison's full run when Zdarsky's started so I could have the Zur background. I had to pause when Morrison's writing got to be too much (for the bad reasons!). I intended to jump back in again, but then Zdarsky's run nosedived and the effort no longer seemed worth it.

Especially when everything paused for Gotham War. Jesus Christ. The only good thing to come out of that was Rosenberg's second Red Hood issue. But speaking of Gotham War, I do wonder if there'll be an article years from now that will reveal Zdarsky had to deal with too much editorial fiat. He had to interrupt his Zur story not only with the badly executed Catwoman plot and the Knight Terrors, but cram in a Three Jokers explanation.

And speaking of Rosenberg, I can't end without mentioning that because he started TMWSL around the same time Zdarsky started on Batman, and they both had their protagonists dealing with other versions of themselves, man, there was such potential for a crossover event. Me and my pals had lots of fun theories about how these series would converge, because the idea that they wouldn't seemed ridiculous. There were two Jokers in TMWSL, and at the same time in Batman #131, Halliday seemed to have created three of them. I didn't like Halliday, but still, what did that mean? It would be ridiculous for those developments to be unrelated, right? RIGHT?

Joke's on us, as usual. 🤪

[mantequillamcwhoremick]

How did you come up with the plot to Chaos Plan??

YIPPPEEEEE ANOTHER ONE!!!! HEHEHEH THANKS FOR THE ASK

Omg I LOVE this question. I'll never get sick of answering that, so like warning for long post incoming 😈😈😈😈

I talk about my inspirations a lot on this post and also in the end notes on some chapters, especially chapter 10 and chapter 20, and I always pinpoint the scene from TFBW where Butters/Chaos talks to the others through the screens of U-Stor-It as "the moment where it all started," so I guess I can talk about something different now😁😁😁I might still repeat myself a lot though lmao so sorry about that.

The Premise: Butters' Disappearance and Detective Harris

Fun fact: the summary on ao3 is actually the first thing I ever wrote for the fic, and I feel like it still holds up.

I debated for a long time whether I actually wanted to write this story, because the idea of it fascinated me so much but I was scared to commit to such a big project. But then I read this pitch to my best friend and they were FASCINATED, and that was kind of the push I needed. I haven't looked back since.

The premise of Harris hiring Mysterion (despite either of their desire to work with each other) was something deeply inspired from the premise of Six of Crows, a book I reread at least once a year. I love crime and heist stories, especially when the criminals in question are sad little losers with questionable motivations and morals, and I feel like Mysterion getting HIRED to stop Chaos is a story that wrote itself. Especially since I wanted the added backstory to be that Butters disappeared after a tragic event, kickstarted by the aforementioned TFBW scene that made me immediately think of Jinx from Arcane. That's why I implemented all those visual bits and pieces of Chaos grafitti-ing the town, particularly places associated with childhood (playgrounds, the basketball court), and decorations that make you think of a kid's birthday party (like the fairy lights).

Mysterion and Chaos

In my notes on chapter 20 I talk in detail about my thought process on Chaos and Mysterion's villain and vigilante identities and their respective modi operandi, which is something that drove the development of this story a lot.

I'm a huge character psychology nerd, so I really wanted to write a story where these two characters drive the plot fueled by their fascinating canon skills, backstories and trauma in the given canon setting. A story that illustrates in great detail how they would operate in a hero/villain story while keeping the story as close to canon (or canon equivalents) as possible.

"Professor" Chaos being an entrepreneur-type scammer & hacker villain was an idea that I found baffling to not be as widely represented as I'd expect it to be (especially given the existence of Vic Chaos???), so I took it upon myself to realize my dreams lmao. This involved a lot of research on scams and cyber-crime and everything computers and crypto (I'm a tech illiterate. this was painful bro) so I watched a bunch of documentaries on a bunch of different assholes lol. (I'd be happy to share which those where if anyone's interested hghaahah) Thankfully my mom works in a cybersecurity-adjacent job so I know a bunch of fun facts like that you can actually get hacked with a QR-code! the more you know

The Plot and Shit

Whenever I have a story idea the first thing I do is pull out this bad boy

and make myself think about all the crucial plot points that could be represented by each beat sample. (I used to have the "Save The Cat" novelwriting book and it honestly changed how I think about story structure).

Even though a lot of the original first outline drafts don't really end up representing what the story looks like in the end, it does make me think about necessary beats to keep the tension up and have it flow nicely, and the vague idea of the crucial beats does usually hold up. Originally, the moment where Kenny finds out Chaos is Butters was meant to be the "midpoint" but I ended up focusing on a bunch of other stuff in the plot that I'd probably determine the moment the roof of City Hall blowing up as the "midpoint" now.

But these scenes were among those I knew I wanted in the story since the beginning:

Harris hiring Mysterion

Mysterion and Chaos talking at U-Stor-It

Kenny running into Butters

Kenny and Butters at the graveyard

City Hall roof blowing up

Mysterion talking to Chaos at a destroyed playground

some others i can't spoil teehee

And as you'll see, this represents like 5% of what happens lmao. Most of my ideas involving Kyle were super vague, and I had no fucking idea how to even involve Stan at first, even less Cartman (I actually wanted to keep Cartman away from the plot but he fought his way in anyway, as he does).

Brother, i didn't even have any scenes with Karen planned. I came up with that one spontaneously when I was struggling to figure out how to write chapter 7 (8 on ao3, when you count the prologue) and how to connect the dots between the U-Stor-It bit and what I wanted to do with Kenny figuring out the transport thing. You'll have found me like this trying to figure out all the connections and dots in Chaos' plan between Harris, the bar, Butters past (yet to be revealed) and how the motherfuckers of our main characters are actually gonna figure all that shit out.

I'm too embarrassed to say how many chapters were just kinda spontaneously rawdogged when they demanded actual detailed explanations of what happened, when I only had like the most vague idea thinking "yeah it happened somehow" (chapter 9 was most definitely one of them. That chapter description just said something like "Kenny and Kyle do detective work idk")

So yeah i guess the TLDR answer to this ask is kinda "idk man i fucked around and found out and the plot possessed me in vivid visions." I think at it's least ramble-y and most honest, that's what it all boils down to

THANKS FOR THE ASK <33333 AND KISSES IF YOU ACTUALLY READ ALL THIS LMAO

[sandy-the-glader]

maybe a george x grumpy! reader who never really smiles or shows emotion and George kinds makes it his secret mission to do that

Come on I see that smile!

Character: George Karim x Fem!Reader

Type: fluff

Length: 1.7K Words

Summary: Ever since you got to Portland row all it has been is neutral faces, anger and frowns. But George seems to be curious about what your smile looks like… for research purposes of course!

Trope: Grumpy x Sunshine (sorta)

A/n: Sorry if this is bad I've been trying to get back into writing btw maybe a tad bit of ooc George? Anyways this is a mix of second and first-person. Lmao lastly the format and like the 4 and 1 idea came from this fic so go check it out!

4 tries and 1 unintentional victory

Baked goods

Large raindrops pattered against the kitchen window of 35 Portland Row, creating a relaxing rhythm. I sprawled out articles and other various newspapers across the table. There wasn't much information on this house, no visitors had been reported before this caller. No murder cases from that house or interesting behaviors. I jotted down as many notes as I could on a surprisingly clean part of the thinking cloth.

A loud knock echoed through the house. I was too sucked into finding information and suspicious parts about this house to answer the door. Thankfully, I heard someone (most likely George) quickly dash to the door and handled with whatever it was. I assumed it was Arif since it was a quick interaction and the scent was so strong I could already smell it. Damn it smelled good.

George's quick footsteps dashed down to the kitchen, quickly landing the box on an available part of the table. I quickly drew my eyes back to the pages scanning for something remotely helpful. The worst case was going in cold.

"How's the case going?" George came to look at the papers and my progress. His fingers traced my handwriting.

"Not good. There is not a single thing tied to this house. And she said I have to be there in a week." I said with a dry expression. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw George rock back and forth on his heels before he spoke again.

"Well um, I got you extra of your favorite this week." I looked up at him. "If you need to take a break they are there." He offered.

"Thank you I appreciate that." George looked somewhat upset with my reaction. Why? I'm not exactly sure

"Yeah.." He grabbed a chocolate donut from the box and sighed on the way out of the room. I hope he’s okay.

Did I do something wrong?

"Is that a donut??" I heard Lucy call out from the stairs. "I didn't even know we had those!" maybe a break wouldn’t hurt…

2. Stress Cleaning

Sure this was more for George than it was for you but he hoped to kill 2 birds with one stone. He had spent the whole evening cleaning the house. Kitchen, library you name it. He left the bedrooms for last.

He knocked softly on your door and waited for a reply before going up the stairs. There wasn't much to clean in your's and Lucy's shared area besides maybe the windows and a few pieces of clothing needed to be picked up off the ground.

You were reading a book on your bed instead of trying to find more information on that house. You needed a break and your mind was just tired from searching article upon article. You had 3 more days and thought to hell with it I'll just do my best.

"What's up, George?" You peered over your book and at the boy. "Oh." From seeing his apron and blue gloves you already knew he meant cleaning. "You know you don't always have to clean up after us." He shook his head.

"You know cleaning is one of my favorite things right?" He cleaned every single day. Not even kidding. You can't remember the last time you've seen the house jaw-droppingly dirty. Because it never has been. For the many months you’ve been here George has done a fantastic job with keeping the house organized.

"That is true. I do feel bad sometimes." You hummed. "Well thank you." George quirked a small smile but you just nodded in acknowledgment.

Well, it was worth a try. He sighed quietly.

3. Favorite food

He knew as soon as you stepped through the door and slammed it shut, he had made a good decision. Another thing on George's list of "Y/n's smiles" was dinner. Sure food didn't work as well last time this was different.

He heard you curse at something and then throw your rapier into its spot by the door. You took in a deep breath through your nose trying to contain your anger from the trip and not make a lot of noise considering the time but you smelt something. Something so heavenly that's all you needed right now. Food.

You quickly went down the stairs and saw George in his apron Moving around the kitchen.

"Smells great Georgie. It's 3 am you didn't have to." She frowned feeling a bit bad for keeping him up.

"It's really no problem at all." He loved cooking so really it was just fun. "Looks like you had a fun night." She rolled her eyes and groaned. He leaned against a cabinet and glanced at you up and down. Your hair was very messy, traces of ectoplasm was all over your shoes and the bottom of your pants, and you were just really wanting food and a shower.

"Sarcasm. Not now I beg of you. But really the food smells fantastic." A sneaky smile formed on George's lips, not yours though you were far too tired to even think about it.

"Alright. Food's ready anyway." He brought two servings of the food over to the table placing one in front of you and the other across from you. "Do you want to talk about it?" He offered sitting down in front of his food.

"It was awful! The source was in a completely different part of the house than she thought and it was just disastrous!" You complained. He sat there and listened to your troubles like you always did with him.

You finally had a bite of the food and you felt at ease.

“George Casper Karim why can you cook so well?” He smiled downward. You didn’t smile you just had this tired yet calm look on your face.

“I have more talent than just touch.” He joked. She was right though the food did taste amazing.

“Yes you do.” George wasn’t entirely mad at the fact you didn’t smile but he did enjoy the compliment.

4. A New Sweater

George scanned the shelves of your favorite store looking for something you would like. There were plenty of things your style but what caught his eye was a sweater.

Your closet was full of them. Lucy too and so a sweater could be another candidate for his "Y/n's smiles" list.

It wasn’t too thick nor too light because he knew you were sorta picky when it comes to sweaters. And a bonus was it was one of your favorite colours.

He held it in his hands but, he double and even triple-checked the store for something you might like better. But he did not and he went and brought it up to the counter to pay.

The cashier was nice but she had mistaken George as your boyfriend which made him blush furiously and confirm the two of you were just close friends. The cashier didn’t buy it. She gave him a small disbelieving look and he tried to ignore it.

He was impressed by how well she wrapped up the sweater and put it in a really nice bag.

When he came back the house was insanely quiet, mainly because Lockwood was out of the house and Lucy was training in the basement. You had decided to have a lazy day you were mainly just in your bed or in front of your desk.

But he noticed you were making tea in the kitchen so he quietly ran upstairs to put your gift on your bed. And then he snuck back down to his room to wait for your return.

You held a cup in your hand and carefully walked upstairs. You were confused when finding a gift on your bed mainly because no one really gave you gifts out of the blue. A small gasp escaped your lips when you reached into the bag and pulled out a sweater. You held the sweater close. It was the right size it was quite a shocker

You didn't think Lucy even knew your size.

"Surprise." George came back up the stairs. You went and hugged him. He was slightly taken aback by the gesture. He wasn't exactly a hugger but he wrapped his arm around you and squeezed gently.

"Thank you, George. You do so much for me." Again he wasn't exactly angry that it had failed because he's never had a hug that felt this relaxing. He was feeling loved. "Anything." He said simply. You pulled back and ruffled his hair.

"You're too good for me."

George returned to his room and took a pen and struck off another idea on a sticky note above his desk. But he did put a small heart next to it.

5. Quality Time.

"Wanna go the archives with me? Lucy and Lockwood already said no but they were caught up in their own thing." George huffed. You sat up immediately and shoved a bookmark into your book. You cracked a half smile.

"I would love to." You sprung up and grabbed your bag and shoes. "They never want to go with me either." Still, a small smile plastered on your face.

George was shocked in the 3 months he knew you that's all it took? Just going to the archives? He would have groaned if he wasn't so happy for finally making you smile. The look was so unfamiliar on you but he definitely knew he wanted to see it more.

"I don't know why I never asked you." You chuckled softly. That was a complete lie. You didn't want to admit it or make it obvious that you have a raging crush on the other boy while being alone and so very close to him doing what you loved most.

George didn't even think about your comment. A chuckle? George's expectations were exceeded. He thought you would shrug it off and either go and keep to yourself or kindly decline.

"Come on Georgie!" You practically skipped out of the room, brushing past his shoulder and sending a jolt through his body. His heart swelled and he was honestly quite boastful at the moment. If he could shout it at the world he would. He felt like he deserved something for making Y/n L/n smile. But seeing your smile was an award in itself.

George followed her out of the house and down to explore the archives.

[creepylittlelady]

wait, I don't understand why fanon Masky is so hated?? /genq (I was never really that interested in him tbh so I only know shit about him.)

OKAY, I can answer this one!

I'm happy that the whole fandom turned around on Fanon Masky recently (at least, I believe it must have been recently considering Cheesecake Masky was a thing before I 'left' the fandom), since that version of him is a bit problematic lol

If you've watched Marble Hornets, then you'll know that Masky and Hoody are REALLY scary (seriously, I had nightmares about Masky for absolute weeks), and work against the Operator. However 'fanon' Masky is a loyal employee of Slenderman/The Operator (I'm gonna make a post addressing the differences one day), and isn't really all that scary?? From what I remember, he was mainly joked about as being the 'Sensible one' of the Proxy trio (Him, Hoody and Toby), who was basically the dude always tired of their bullshit. Not only is this the complete opposite of how Masky is, as he would NEVER work FOR his enemy, who literally ruined his life from childhood, but it also sort of flanderised him and no longer made him scary, which is something the Creepypasta fandom tends to do a lot lmao

Another thing is his sudden change of character design. A lot of old Creepypasta fanart depicting him from 2013-2017 show him with lighter brown hair and a yellow jacket, which isn't what he looks like at all?? Actual Masky has much darker hair and I don't think he's ever seen with that ugly ass highlighter coloured jacket.

There's also the complete change in his body type, definitely one of the most controversial things about Fanon Masky. Let me first say that I do not believe that Tim Sutton (Masky's original actor) is fat, I'm not sure WHERE the old Creepypasta fandom got that idea from. Fandom in general, especially the Creepypasta fandom, is quite 'fatphobic' from my experience. What this basically means is that if you're not a skinny twink you will be body shamed in every way possible. The Creepypasta character market has always been oversaturated with men who basically were twinks, with slim and pale bodies, such as Jeff the Killer.

I believe that making Masky so thin came from the fact that when the Creepypasta fandom really took off around 2013-ish, a lot of Creepypasta fans looked for content and eventually I believe that a lot of them must have stumbled across Marble Hornets. Upon seeing Masky and Hoody, two characters that could have passed off as Creepypasta characters (as most of the other characters in Marble Hornets looked like ordinary people), the fandom probably adopted them and adapted them to 'their tastes', no matter how good they were or not. It might have also been a game of telephone too, as maybe a Creepypasta fan's friend of a friend told them some info about Masky and they misunderstood and instead of who Masky actually was, saw him more as the silly goofy masked guy. And to be honest, I don't think the Creepypasta fandom has ever really been known for actually doing their research, so that misconstrued version of him just became canon in everyones minds.

Not that it was always that innocent though...

One titular thing about fanon Masky was his strange love of Cheesecake. I myself saw a lot of it in 2016 sewed into every bit of content for his character, and was confused on where it came from. Then, I found out that it was meant to be a joke SHAMING him for 'being fat'. I originally stumbled across this for the first time in a satire comic, where one of the panels is Hoody chastising Masky for eating cheesecake, stating that Masky will become fat. The cheesecake joke is one I've seen in some fandoms before, albeit in different ways and with different foods. For the life of me I cannot figure out why everyone decided to associate him with Cheesecake, but everyone just did.

Fanon Masky is a perfect example on how fandoms can flanderise characters to the point where they're unrecognisable; pull up a picture of Masky in the Marble Hornets and then a Masky fanart from 2015. The difference is STAGGERING. The Creepypasta fandom is very much infamous for flanderising characters, such as making Jeff a misunderstood bad boy, Toby a waffles-obsessed manchild, and Masky a Slenderman-loving, Crayons and Paper-having, Toby-hating, Cheesecake-eating twink.

TL;DR: Fanon Masky was made as a shitty misconstrued fat joke.

[vxlentinescookies]

https://www.tumblr.com/vxlentinescookies/752305264828563456/httpswwwtumblrcomvxlentinescookies7522944908?source=share

Thanks! Tbh I thought I'd vent the idea to see if you likes it before requesting a fic or a drabble of it...yaknow, see how ya like it lol!

And now to turn this into a request:

Can you write a fic or a drabble of this adorable thing when you feel up for it? Couldn't decide which so I'll leave it up to you lol! Btw take your time, remember to hydrate and so on lol! Sending ya a hug....or if you don't like sudden hugs or something, a high five. Lmao!

→ ❛Dragons and Wyverns❜

→ Pairing ;Royal Margarine Cookie x Autistic!Reader → Quote ; ❛❛But the truth is, he could never be mad at you.❜❜ → Genre ; Fluff → A/N ; Eeeeee hope i did this request justice, i hope you like it!!

It was a calm afternoon in the Dragon City, birds chirped, the sunset welcomed the air of the evening, and like everyday, Royal Margarine cookie would come out to boast about his alleged achievements. Of course there would be nothing wrong about that, the children found it cool, the ladies swooned or… only laughed if they knew the truth he revealed when he got drunk or from rumors that ran away, and then, there was you, always by his side to aid in the telling of the story to the best of your capabilities.

“And when all seemed lost, I scoured the skies with my trusty dragon and—”

“Wait, I thought Buttercream was a wy-”

“Ah—!”

He loved you, he really did, he admired your motivation and your knowledge on dragons, even if sometimes like these times, it came into play in the wrong moments. Royal Margarine would shush you rather quickly, attempting to continue the story, but you wouldnt let it go, in fact, attempting to be a bit louder which caused some children to look confused, while the ladies and men would simply laugh to themselves, crossing their arms in a “we’ve caught you” notion. That’d mark the end of the storytime for the “dragon” rider, as both him and his partner would walk home calmly, albeit not without chitchat being made along the way, little chatter about how their day had gone, about what they’d have for dinner, until eventually they’d get to the topic of the storytime.

“Right, sweetheart, about that…” He’d begin scratching the back of his head “I’d appreciate it if you didnt interrupt me while telling my stories…”

“But Buttercream is a wyvern!” You’d say as you both approached your home, to which Margarine would look behind him before opening the door for you, after all, he always had manners.

“Yes, but its a secret! People cant get to know that—”

“Why? Arent Wyverns dragons?” You’d ask innocently, once again cutting him off which would catch him off guard, but not for the reasons you would expect. “Sorry”

“No-No, Im not mad at you, its just… How to say this…” He’d close the door behind himself, thinking for a moment before speaking yet again “Uhm, darling… Wyverns arent, dragons…”

It’d take you a moment to register the answer as you’d set down your messenger bag, looking at the couch before turning to see him, an unreadable expression in your eyes as you tried to comprehend what he had just told you. Wyverns werent… dragons? But you had done your research! You learned about as much as there were about dragons as there were tales in the city, but, as doubt began to settle down, perhaps… only perhaps…

“Wyverns, wyverns arent dragons?” You’d ask him, just to make sure that what you had heard was correct, to which the dragon rider would nod slowly, a sorrowful gaze in his face as he realized this seemed to cause a shift in you. “But— The books—”

“They are similar, which may be why they may have been fit together, but they’re not… the same, sweetheart” He’d say, walking to your side to hold your hand and lead you to the couch. 

“Oh…” You’d speak, before turning to look at him once again, already opening your mouth to speak yet again “But— That means Buttercream is…”

“Yes, she’s not a dragon, she’s indeed a wyvern.”

“... Then why do you call yourself a dragon rider?” Your question would come tainted in curiosity, and he’d only chuckle though at the realization that he didnt have an exact answer, he’d only look at the floor before answering.

“Well… Because Wyvern Rider sounds weird, no? Besides, Dragon Rider does sound quite fashionable”

“Ah, I see… Well, I’ll go make dinner, its already late and we should be having dinner soon!” You’d say, shaking your hands softly as you headed into the kitchen, leaving Royal Margarine out in the sofa.

“Sweetheart, let me help you” He’d say, already sprinting to walk to your side, which you welcomed as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders with a smile “Woah”

“Im just— Excited! This is very exciting! I didnt know different kinds of species related to dragons existed! Did you know that—”

And then there was no stopping you as you spoke and spoke about dragon facts to your boyfriend, who only would sigh and smile warmly, knowing he’d be having to take care about most of the cooking this time around save you hurt yourself as you focused on your rambling. Though he didnt mind, he knew you liked his cooking, and he always made sure to make extra for Buttercream everytime.

As so, next time you saw Buttercream, you’d smile and talk to her about how she was a wyvern and not a dragon, but also admit that you knew she probably knew that already. But its safe to say that everytime Margarine told his usual achievements as a dragon rider, you’d butt in to correct him innocently, causing him to try to shush you everytime, and for nearby listeners to either look confused or laugh softly. But the truth is, he could never be mad at you.