#so i guess you could say it's really just the basic premise of it that's real:

[1nconcievable]

Some missed opportunities for themes in the series Carmen Sandiego

DISCLAIMER: I AM NOT A PROFESSIONAL WHEN IT COMES TO THESE THEMES THEREFORE TAKE WHAT I SAY WITH A GRAIN OF SALT. ALSO - I ENJOY CARMEN SANDIEGO BUT I HAVE SOME IDEAS THE SHOW COULD HAVE EXPLORED. THIS IS ALL OPINION

So Carmen Sandiego is not a perfect show (I'm sure many have proved it). I felt like some of its deeper themes didn't get expanded on as much as i would have liked. BUT I felt like the show's premise would have benefited from exploring other themes:

Generational Trauma: I've seen movies like Coco, Turning Red (ha! pun!) and Encanto deal with the issue of generational trauma. Although they aren't perfect, it did spark some interest in the topic for me. With the reveal that Carmen's father was a thief, it would have been interesting to expand on Wolfe's past to see how far her bloodline connects to thievery and how their involvement would affect their kids. It would have also been interesting to explore Carmen's feelings about breaking the cycle.

Nature or Nurture: We've seen a variety of Operatives in the series - who didn't get enough screen time and backstory (only hcs). However it never really asks how they got here. The show is meant to explore the gray area about justice and all that but I feel like some operatives are just evil. That's it. I guess it's refreshing but it would have been more interesting to show if being a criminal is nature or nurture. You could see it with Carmen as a mixture of both nature and nurture - her dad was a thief and she was raised in a criminal environment. It could have been shown with Carmen's friends as well - Zack, Ivy and Player maybe would have fit into the nurture. IDK

Self fulfilling prophecy: Sorry to bring in some sociology into this but Carmen's backstory could maybe have tapped into the theme of self fulfilling prophecy (in basic terms = it's when you are told that you are something e.g. a thief and you act that way to fit the label). If the show hadn't chosen to brainwash her later on - Carmen going against the self fulfilling prophecy would have caused interest in exploring her character on a deeper level.

Parents being convicts: I felt like when Carmen finds out the truth about Wolfe, her feelings were not explored about how she felt about her dad at all (Thank goodness for fan fiction). I can't really say anything about it since I haven't done research.

Welp... To quote Thanos for future fan fics:

"I'll Do It Myself"

Anyway, those are my thoughts. Feel free to contribute in the comments.

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #50

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Please enjoy.

The sound of Pomp & Circumstance filled the entire hall, weaving through the ears of proud parents and extended relatives. Backstage, the graduates stood in line, waiting for their turn on stage, but none was more excited than the one and only salutatorian, Patty Ward. Unlike most other people, Patty relished public speaking.

While the five valedictorians discussed their division of labor in the corner, Patty stood confident in the knowledge that she’d already practiced and memorized her speech over the previous week. She was going to kill - absolutely kill.

The valedictorians went up first, nearly tripping over each others’ gowns on the way to the podium. The tall one took out a stack of index cards and tapped them on the podium before flipping through them and handing them out to the other four.

“Wait, wait, wait,” the short one whispered. “Why do I have three cards? The rest of you only have two.”

“Weren’t you paying attention?” The blonde one asked. “We agreed that since you go last, you have to take the extra card.”

“Where was I when you made that decision?”

“You know what, actually,” the bearded one rubbed his hairy chin. “I think you might have been in the bathroom. But it’s just the closing remarks.”

“Guys!”

“Look, it’s not a big deal, I’ll take the extra card.” The brunette swiped the card from the short one and added it to her stack. “Can we please all get along? This is the last time we’ll all be in the same room together. It’s important.”

Patty agreed. In fact, she was counting on that fact for her speech.

The tall one approached the microphone first, and awkwardly read from his cards. His part of the speech was something about unity in the face of challenges, but it was brief since each of the valedictorians only got about twelve seconds for their portion of the speech.

The rest of them gave similarly stilted reads of their lines, which for valedictorians seemed poorly written and low effort. They just didn’t seem to have anything to say.

Single file, the five of them left the stage, and Patty knew it was her turn. She got a whole minute all to herself. She confidently approached the podium, staring out into the massive crowd of faceless silhouettes. There was no need to ‘imagine them in their underwear’, or whatever people always said to do. Each person ceased to be human, ceased to be an individual with complex thoughts and motives. They were all part of the hive mind known as the audience. If one laughed, all laughed. A clap could begin anywhere and radiate out at the speed of sound.

Patty adjusted the microphone to her preference and slid her finger along the remote in her pocket. It was smooth to the touch.

“Greetings, all! It is my honor to speak to you all today and to congratulate the Class of 2017 for their great achievement. We did it!”

She held her arms in the air and the cheers quaked the room, localized in the teacher region of the audience.

She continued. “But it wasn’t easy. We struggled, we persevered. We studied, we procrastinated. We tried, and sometimes, we failed. Except the valedictorians, of course.”

She gestured to stage left, where the five had gone and now stood in the shadows. The crowd erupted into laughter. It didn’t take much.

“Me, personally? I stand before you as salutatorian - that is, the second-best - because I worked hard. Because I never gave up. Because of that one B in AP History.”

Everyone laughed at that one, as expected, and no one laughed harder than Mr. Idolt, the teacher who gave her the grade that sealed her fate. The one semester in which she didn’t get an A in every class. She took this moment of pause to pull the remote from her pocket and hold it up in the air.

“The funniest part is I’m not fucking joking.”

No one in the crowd could tell what she was holding, but the quiet that immediately took the room told her that she had them worried.

“This remote is attached to a series of explosives I have placed around the building. I don’t want to have to use it, but I did not come THIS FAR to leave with a goddamn three-point-nine-seven GPA! I get a four-point-oh or every one of us turns into a crater!”

Patty pointed at Mr. Idolt. “Come on up here!”

He stumbled, clearly scared out of his mind, across the row of seats to the aisle and walked toward the stage. He climbed up awkwardly and brushed himself off before hesitantly approaching the podium.

“Why don’t you tell them all why I ended up with a B, teach?” She pushed the microphone toward him.

“Uh…” the microphone popped and he pulled back from it by an inch. “I didn’t think your essay was quite up to par with AP grading guidelines. For a nine. I gave you an eight instead. That is still very good.”

“Were there better essays?”

“I have seen many -”

“Were there better essays in this graduating class?”

He adjusted his glasses, which slipped down his nose from all the nervous sweat. “Uh… no. No, I don’t suppose there were.”

Patty pointed back off stage. “So why did you give blondie over there a nine?”

The crowd gasped. Idolt began shaking and looked toward his wife, who shook her head in disapproval. He gulped.

Patty rubbed her thumb along the contours of the button on the remote while refusing to break eye contact with the man.

“I… I must have made a mistake. She… didn’t deserve it. It… wasn’t as good as yours. I’ll - I’ll fix it, okay! I will!”

“You’ll give me an A for that semester?”

“Yes! Yes! You were my best student, you always were!” He started crying and fell to his knees.

Patty looked at the crowd, satisfied by her revenge, and clicked the button. Contrary to what she had claimed would happen, however, no one exploded into a million pieces. The projector screen descended behind her on stage and the lights dimmed. She moved the microphone back into place for her to speak into it.

“And with that, ladies and gentlemen, I leave you as the sixth valedictorian of the Class of 2017. Please enjoy the rest of the ceremony.”

[euphoricimagination]

𝓗𝓪𝓲𝓴𝔂𝓾𝓾 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓼 𝓶𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪 𝓹𝓲𝓬𝓴-𝓶𝓮 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵

Feat. Nekoma & Inarizaki -> Part 2 [Aoba Johsai & Fukurodani]

Premise: You had to do something else for a week and a half, leaving the boys alone for that period. Although they told the coaches that they could survive without you, the coaches ask a girl to help them out instead. They weren’t particularly excited, which got worse the more they spent time with her

Nekoma

You arrived later than you expected, just on time for the club, So you didn’t get to see your dear team until much later

When you enter the gym, you see a…strange view

No one in the team was happy

Yaku and Kai didn’t have any expressions on them, Lev was pouting aggressively, Fukunaga had a frown, Yamamoto was mumbling words and Kenma was nowhere to be seen.

The girl that was supposed to replace you for the week was walking besides a very annoyed Kuroo, who was pushing the cart with the balls

Weird, considering that doing that was the basics for being a manager

They were so out of it that none notice the sound of your shoes, weird considering how attentive they are

“Ah Kuroo senpai, thank God you helped me! I’m so small and weak that I wasn’t able to push it over” you heard her say, making you cringe at the sentence

“Yeah, whatever” said a disinteresting Kuroo

And that’s when you confirm that something was really wrong, Kuroo was never this dismissive

“What’s happening? Everything ok?” you asked making Kuroo turn around with a relief smile on

“Oh hi, Kuroo senpai was just helping me since you know, I’m so small and weak” says fluttering her eyes at him

“It’s just pushing the cart. It has wheels on it…” You gave a disbelief look to Kuroo, who just rolls his eyes “it’s not that hard”

“Maybe for someone as big as you it wouldn’t be so difficult!”

That was it for Kuroo, who quickly move to your side giving you a hug

“Well, guess you can leave now that our manager is back. Bye”

"Kuroo-senpai!! Stooop! I can stay here too!” says stomping her feet

The whole commotion cause everyone to look at you, and you swear you heard a collective sigh full of relief

Quickly enough you felt a bunch of arms around you, a bunch of head pats and a ton of screams of your name

Which quickly was interrupted by a loud scream by the girl “KYANMA!!”

You look at the stairs where Kenma was standing shaking slightly with big eyes. The girl tried to get close to him, yelling “They are being mean, Kyanma!” but he just runs away towards you

Yes. Run. He hated her, she was so loud and desperate, Kenma literally couldn’t stand her.

“You’re back” says Kenma hiding behind you, showing more happiness that you ever have seen from him

So happy that he went to hug you tightly, he really missed you

“Anyways, now that our team is finally complete you can leave. Please go out” says Kuroo

“Agh! Fine! I’m way too good for you anyways!”

She sends you a look full of venom, but you didn’t really notice it

After all, you had a clingy Kenma hugging you tightly and the rest of the team waiting for one

Inarizaki

After your small break reached an end you finally were ready to go back to your boys

They were having a small hangout in the Miya household

They tried to be sneaky about it, not wanting to invite the girl that was replacing you

But sadly for them, she somehow knew and crash into them before you could arrive

She’s the first person you see when you enter their house with the spare key they gave you

“Who are you?” she asks with her eyebrow raising

“Ehh…I’m Yn, their manager. You helped them while i was out?” You ask back, confused at her sudden presence

“Yes…I actually think I should be the new manager! After all I play like 17 sports and definitely know more than you about sports. What do you think this is? Cheer? Not like it’s a sport, but whatever” she says with a overconfident smirk

In the meantime the guys that were already in the house starting to appear into the hall, confused at how loud her voice was being

“Anyways! Why don’t you leave? A girl like you probably doesn’t even know a thing about sports! We’re gonna play videogames while you probably just want to paint your nails or whatever!”

“Who says you’re staying?” Atsumu says, frowning

“Ha Ha, you’re so funny Atsumu! Of course I’m staying” she says nervous

“No, you’re not” Osamu adds

“I’m sure we can all hang out tog-” you try to say

“You shut it! I bet you don’t know anything about the sport!” She says to you despite you trying to help her

“Really? You barely even know what we play, you just join because you wanted to see hot guys” a voice behind you says, Suna entering the house as he passes his arm through your shoulders

The girl immediately went pale, stammering the next sentence “well…well, I mean, of course I know!”

“Sure, that's why you asked 'if we knew' the rules of basketball yesterday. Just leave, nobody wants you here anyway”

She scoffs annoyed, looking at the rest of the team as if asking for help, which she doesn’t receive. She scoffs one more time, walking towards the door and leaving as she shoots a glare towards you

“You guys are so mean” you say, receiving a chuckle

“She deserved it, if anything she just hinder our practice” Osamu adds

“Besides, nobody talks about our beautiful manager like that” Atsumu hugs you along side Suna

The rest of the team also comes to hug you, and while they were a bit rude, you knew that they only had good intentions

You love this foxes too much

----

Note: a little something about my boys, also, I cringed way too much while writing this

[reiderwriter]

So obviously Spencer is iconic for his wide range of haircuts over the show, and I have this vision of a Spencer x hairdresser fic where he goes to the same hairdresser all the time because he likes the routine and it’s what he’s used to. So like they’re low-key friends bc he’s been her client so long, but then she notices he can’t come as usual and he tells her it’s because he’s always away or working late. So because they’re close she gives him private late appointments after she closes bc they’re more accessible for him, and then they’re always together late at night, and eventually they fall for each other!! And like she loves his curls and cringed when he wanted it cut short but loves it regardless AHH I JUST LOVE IT. Bonus points if Spencer gets to recommend his hairdresser girlfriend to his teammates just to brag about the fact he has a hot girlfriend lmao. I get it’s kinda long lol, if it’s too long a premise then no worries, just sharing it is nice :)

A/N: Hi! I love the idea of hair stylist reader, so I had a lot of fun writing this~♡ Thank you for your request, I hope you enjoy it!

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: implied Autistic Reid, brief mentions of sensory issues, writer does not care for the shows Canon hair continuity and does basically whatever she wants.

Masterlist

The first time you'd met Spencer Reid, you hadn't been able to cut his hair. Which was a damn shame because it really did need cutting. 

Sweeping up the floors of the hair salon you worked at, you had noticed the man lingering outside, wringing his hands together and pushing them awkwardly through his hair, approaching and retreating every few seconds. 

You watched him through the mirrors, and let him dance around like that for five minutes before deciding that the evening breeze would be a boon during the hot summer night that was about to set in on you. 

Opening the salon door, you stepped outside and soaked in the fresh air before turning to the now frozen, slightly awkward man. 

“Can I help you?” You tried to put a welcoming smile on your face, but the salon was past closing and empty beside you. You should've been heading home by now, but something in the man's posture had you dawdling.

“The barber shop down the road closed down,” he said quickly, as if the words were practised on his to guess moments before. 

“Yes, that's true. It's been six months now.”

“Six months?” he squeaked out, running a hand through his hair as he turned inwards. 

“Do you… need a haircut?” 

“Yes. Yes, are there any other barber shops in the area?” 

You rolled your eyes and walked back into the salon, picking up a robe and a shoulder cover and spinning around the closest chair to welcome him. 

“Well, are you coming in?” 

“But you're closed. Your sign says you're closed.” 

“And I'm still here, aren't I?” 

He didn't argue any further and hesitantly stepped into the salon. 

You helped him out of his bag and put it away before helping him into the robe and shoulder pad. 

He awkwardly stood around as you prepared your scissors and station again, switching on the mirror light so you could fully see his face and hair. 

And damn was he attractive. As you smoothed his hair out of his face, you were met with warm brown eyes, open and anxious, like a deer caught in headlights. Or, more accurately, a dear caught in a hair salon. 

You had to blink and look away as you remembered what you were about, standing up and leading him over to the sink. 

“I'm… I'm a little bit sensitive about my hair,” he admitted quite meekly as you tested the temperature of the water. 

“Okay. Is there anything specific?” 

He sat himself in the chair but didn't lower his head to the bowl, so you waited. 

After a minute or two, he gently lowered his head to the bowl, and you helped his progress, making sure he was comfortably settled. He didn't speak, just let his shoulders relax and closed his eyes as you turned the water on his locks. 

You enjoyed the simple repetitions of your job. Everyone's hair was different, that was true, but there were really only so many ways to wash hair. 

You rinsed his hair thoroughly, keeping the water away from his face and ears with a face guard before beginning to lather it up. 

For a man who hadn't seen the inside of a salon in six months and likely a hairbrush in the same length of time, his hair was healthy. 

De-tangling as you went, you ran your hands through the lengths of his hair, taking note of how it fell, which parts were healthy, and which had developed split ends. Then you began massaging his head, working the shampoo into his roots, making sure his scalp was free from any possible dirt or dry skin. 

This was the best part of the haircut for you, and you knew your regular clients enjoyed it greatly as well. Which is why you probably shouldn't have been too surprised when the man fell asleep. 

It took you a few minutes to realize that was what happened, the face guard obscuring his face from your vision. When you squeezed the water from his hair, patted it dry, and twisted it into a towel so the water wouldn't run down his back, you had no clue that he was away with the fairies. 

It wasn't until you asked him to stand, and he didn't even move that you moved around the sink and lifted the face guard. 

If he seemed anxious awake, it had melted away now. He looked younger asleep, more calm and confident somehow. His eyelashes were long, a fact you only noticed when you leaned in to get a better look at him. 

It was your hand unconsciously tracing a hand along his jaw that woke him back up, and for a second, you just stared at each other, faces inches apart. 

“I'm.. I'm so sorry, I should go. Thank you for… I should go,” he said hurriedly, pulling the robes and towels off and snatching his bag up, running out the door. 

“Wait, your hair,” you called after him, but he was gone. 

And he hadn't paid. 

It took a week for you to collect the payment, though you couldn't care less about the money anyway. 

But a week thinking about the man's delicate features, his shy smile and stutter, and you were very distracted. 

Thinking about him had become your full-time job, as much as cutting hair had, and you'd had a few close encounters with the scissors when you were lost in thought. 

You'd been thinking up back stories for the man ranging from the romantic to the obscure to the downright realistic. So, a week later, you found yourself behind on work and needing to stay late, just as he stepped into the shop a second time. 

“Hello?” You shouted from the backroom, hearing the doorbell jingle as it opened. “We're actually closed right now, so- oh.” 

He stood awkwardly in the door, his face already flushed slightly. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi,” you said, trying to stop the grin spreading across your face. You didn't want to scare him off a second time. 

“Last time, I… kinda ran away. I was… I'm not the best with-” 

“With haircuts?” 

“With change.” You both nodded at that, awkwardly staring at each other. 

“So…?” You lead, trying to encourage him to introduce himself, hoping he would reveal something you didn't already know. 

“You're closed again, but could you cut my hair?” He asked, pushing the long locks back on his head as he stood a little taller. 

“It would be my pleasure…” you trailed off as a question, needing to know his name. 

“Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor… just Spencer is fine if you'd prefer.” 

“I'm Y/N. Come and take a seat.” 

You slid him into the robes once again and got through a hair wash without any accidental naps this time. Though you did notice that he seemed to be enjoying it just as much. 

His sighs left you feeling hot, your heart beating as you focused on his hair to draw your gaze from his lips. 

When he was back I'm front of the mirror, he again looked like a scared cat that had been backed into the corner. 

“So, what'll it be, Spencer?” You asked cheerily, combing your hand through his locks to detangle them. 

“Hmm? Oh, a water would be nice.” 

“For your hair, Spencer. What haircut do you want?” 

“Oh! Oh, um, just a…just a haircut.” 

Your face scrunched up in confusion as he doubled down. 

“But what kind of haircut?” 

“What kind?” 

You pulled away from his chair for a minute and went to grab a cut reference book. 

“Okay, so we've got undercuts, or trims, I can do pompadour or bowl cut or-” 

You looked at Spencer's face again and saw that he looked more than confused. 

“How about I just cut your hair and after you tell me if you like it or not?” 

He nodded and gave you a weak smile as you grabbed your scissors. 

Twenty minutes of silence later, and you felt Spencer exhale in relief as you dusted off the back of his neck and pulled the robes off of his clothes. 

You'd gone for a shorter cut, but his curly hair had such a nice natural texture that you left it a bit longer on top. Without his hair in his face, his jawline was sharper, his eyes brighter, and you were somehow more infatuated. 

He stood up shyly and you smiled at how good he looked. 

“Okay, perfect! Let me just-” You lifted your hand and smoothed out some of his hair, picking up some strands and pushing them back and forth until it was just right. 

He caught your hand just as you were about to pull away, and you suddenly realized how close he was. Or more accurately how close you had gotten. It was like you were breathing the same air. 

“D-Do you like it?” You asked, voice small and high as it battled your heartbeat to be heard. 

“Yeah. I like it. It looks… it looks like a haircut.” 

You giggled as his grip became gentler, and your hand fell down to your side, brushing his chest gently as it descended. 

“How much do I owe you?” He asked, and you led him over to the register to complete the payment. 

“Thank you,” he said as he grabbed his bags to head out the door. 

“Just doing my job. I'll see you in six weeks,” you said, waving him off. 

“What for?” He asked, voice confused but bright. He sounded almost hopeful. 

“For your next haircut, Spencer.” 

He smiled and waved back as he walked back into the dark and disappeared down the street. 

No one could ever accuse Spencer Reid of being forgetful, and six weeks later, he was back in your chair. 

Except he didn't arrive at 11pm this time, but instead 11am. 

The other customers and stylists gawked at the man as he walked in, and you thanked the gods that your seat was free as he met your eyes. 

“Hi.” 

“Spencer! You're back.” 

He nodded shyly, head hanging a little as he ignored the many looks from the women in the room and the eruption of whispers and loud glances in his direction. 

“It's been six weeks. You said that's when I'd need another haircut.” 

You laughed a little as you pulled the robe around him. 

“You know, I say that every time, but most people ignore me. I love a man who can follow directions.” 

The eruption of red on his cheeks left you feeling suddenly tongue tied, and you carefully redirected the conversation back to the task at hand. 

“Same again, Doc?” You asked, readying your spray bottle and supplies. 

“Actually, could we, ah, go shorter this time?” Hesmiled sheepishly and watched as you ran your fingers through his tangled hair. 

“My boss, last time, said I looked like I joined a boyband, so…” 

“Your boss at the hospital?” You asked, clinging to every detail you could get from him. 

“The hospital?” 

“You said you were a Doctor, do you work in a lab instead or-”

“Oh. No, I work at the FBI. I'm not a medical doctor, I have a PhD. I have three, Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics.” 

You whistled. “Impressive. You can't be older than 30.” 

“I'm 29.” He said, smiling at you in the mirror, and you smiled back, hands still running through his hair. 

“So, no boy band haircuts, okay. For what it's worth, though, you look totally hot.” 

The words cut the conversation short, and you tried your best to take the words back as you went off to the sides to grab your sheers. 

Half an hour later, and you could swear that half the salon had given up pretending to be doing their jobs and were just awkwardly ogling the man. If the shorter “boyband” hair was good, the undercut you'd done for him was even better. 

You turned him around to get a closer look, using the excuse of making sure his hair was symmetrical enough to stare at him some more as you got closer to finishing. 

“Okay,” you said with a sad sigh. “You're all finished, Spencer. Let's get you rung up.” 

He nodded and followed you quickly, pulling out his wallet as he paid quietly. 

“Okay. And I'll see you tomorrow,” you said, as he picked up his bags to leave. 

“Tomorrow? I thought you said it was six weeks between haircuts.” 

“It is. But it's also my day off tomorrow, so I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner. With me.” 

He blinked at you once. Then twice, and another time before smiling and looking away. 

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” 

He ran a hand through his hair and nearly walked into the door he was trying to walk through, but your heart still fluttered as you waved him out. 

[itsnothingofinterest]

This is probably a weird note to end my time with MHA's run on; but I find it so strange how I still see people calling Tomura out on just being a destruction-hungry villain with supposedly no plan or follow up...as though he is unique for that simplicity. Especially after the ending we got. Like, Deku and All Might never really had a plan when they were reshaping society by beating up the enemy and everything worked out fine for them, but does anyone call them out for just using violence to mindlessly solve everything with no further plan? (Well, yes. Me. Right now.)

Because like, really thinking about it; how different was All Might's plan from the start of his career to take down AFO and become a symbol, and Deku's plan to end the villains and bring everything back, from Shigaraki's plan to end hero society and bring about a world accommodating to the League? It all seemed to boil down to the same basic premise of Step 1) Beat everyone & everything making things worse, Step 2) ...it all just kind of works out from there. (I guess All Might planned on being inspiring and uplifting, but then we could also count Tomura's plan to be imposing and...uplifting but for different people. Deku was winging it every step of the way though.) Everyone's getting on Tomura's case for doing nothing but destroying; but all evidence from when the heroes do it suggests violence & destruction works. And it just never fails to bug me when people call Tomura out for stuff that's fine when heroes do it.

Which, yeah, let's touch on how it did just work out for Deku that way for no logical reason, least of all anything he planned. He punched out the big bad just like All Might and now things are like a hundred times better than they were under All Might with no more Tenkos abandoned in the street. If stuff like that just happens if you punch out your enemies hard enough, then why couldn't that happen for Tomura? Maybe if he had destroyed the government & hero society it would've, idk, been so fear/awe-inspiring that all the villains would've been nice and cooperative under the PLF and everything would've been fine. Or something. No more contrived than what we saw with the old lady plot line, MHA is just a series where that stuff works out. Heck, one time it actually did just work out that way for Tomura:

Again, violence and destruction works in MHA. I mean; duh, it's a shonen manga.

Plus all this is ignoring the fact that, unlike those two, Tomura did have a follow up to the violence. He did have a step two, or at least one & a half, after "beat down all the bad guys in the country." Rather than just going "and everything will work out from there," he had his guys plan for the future so he could say "and Spinner, Toga, and RD et. all will make sure everything works out from there." (Admittedly, not much; but also, not hopes and dreams.) He did have a plan, it was just the plan from the Overahul arc, where he was last asked to have a plan: leave it to his allies.

And hey, that means it's actually better than what we saw from genius All Might and brainiac Deku. So why are we still, even after everything was over, acting like there's some expectation as a villain he didn't meet? I guess it's just in the nature of a 'tantrum-having man-child who wants nothing but destruction' to put more forethought into the future he wants to build than the society-uplifting greatest heroes.

That or maybe everyone had really detailed follow-ups for when they won that Hori never went much into, but that'd render this post a bit pointless so shhh.

[showtoonzfan]

Now I want to talk about Charlie cause good GOD. I never cared much for her in the pilot, I’ll admit that. I always called her boring compared to the other characters because of how developed they were compared to her. However the show takes everything that the pilot build up for her and just made her 10x worse to the point where she’s INSUFFERABLE to watch.

When I got to the very end of the season, I realized that she barley did anything progressive or had an impact on any character, at least what we’ve seen on screen. I understand this was the first season, but what exactly was her arc and what exactly did she do? Nothing. Throughout the season she wasn’t a leader, the most she did was help Sir pen with lessons and have that fight at the heaven trial. In the end they try to act like she overcame some arc about learning to lead and take charge but…she didn’t really. She was helped constantly by people around her, mainly Vaggie/Alastor/Rosie and she never really did anything on her own that was enough to signify her independence as the MAIN character or even the princess of hell. I love how she needed to be TOLD that her girlfriend cared for her…like wow. Vaggie also states that she’s “done so much and touched so many souls”- and all I could think about is how I actually wish we saw that on screen. Husk said she “wants to fix everyone’s problems but her own” and I never got that vibe out of her??? If she was more like Luz from the Owl house where we constantly saw her avoid her own emotions and problems and focus more on helping other people, then it would make sense but guess what, we don’t see any of that because the show is so disinterested in ACTUALLY focusing on Charlie shining at the front and helping people. They scrapped the main premise of her wanting to help sinners and instead used up all the time they had to introduce new characters. It’s all tell and no show as expected.

She’s painted as someone who’s desperate to save her people but when she’s not the focus and actually helping someone, she’s a whiny frustrating crybaby who needs to be coddled or steered in the right direction, and it’s SO hard to watch how her character is treated like a child who can’t do anything. This character has existed for 200+ years canonically but she isn’t written like that. She’s dumb. The fact that she’s such a doormat that she can’t even realize Angel is being abused by Val or even DO ANYTHING about it is fucking baffling, she’s THAT useless. There were so many moments in the show where she could have used her authority or powers to save trouble, but she just doesn’t do it because she’s useless, and I’m tired of people trying to say she’s a pacifist to excuse the shitty writing. She’s also basically Viv’s self insert in a way, an unfunny woman child who’s a hypocrite. Like Charlie is the equivalent of dry white chicken. There’s no seasoning or flavor to her character, she’s SO bland and boring that Lucifer and Alastor end up being more important than her and having more screen time, she’s ATTACHED to them and it really shows, rather than her being at the front. And I know we’re on season 1, but you’d think that Charlie’s childishness would actually be a character flaw and something she needs to overcome and grow up about. But this isn’t really seen as an issue and more of a quirky thing cause Viv thinks being a woman child is funny, the “fuck you you old bitch” scene made me cringe so god damn hard. Everyone has already said it, but Charlie cursing so so forced and unnatural for her character. I don’t like how she’s supposed to be a cinnamon roll but then at the same time swears and acts feral at times. It doesn’t fit.

During the fight scene in the end, she also does absolutely nothing. She made a whole deal about how she wants to defend her people and get back at the angel’s, but aside from throwing Adam and hitting him once, she needed to be protected or saved, Lucifer ended up actually doing the work and it was so hilarious. Speaking of that, Charlie’s daddy issues arc was also rushed, her and Lucifer reuniting and then making up within the same episode was a mistake. Then you realize that her daddy issues was mainly all Charlie had to her in terms of depth and what was explored in the show. I’m so tired of Viv giving her characters daddy issues, it’s getting old lol. But regardless of what Charlie has to her, in general the show just doesn’t focus on her. She’s not the main focal point of the show when she should be. SHE’S the one who wants to redeem sinners, the hotel was her idea. Even tho the pilot was a mess I still felt like she was determined to take the lead due to her beliefs. And yet she still feels like a side/background character who only occasionally gets focus here and there but certainly not compared to the others. The potential is there but due to the favoritism of the writing she’s such an empty and boring character and stayed like that till the very end.

[martianbugsbunny]

That's How He Knows He's Yours (A Lokius Fic)

Okayyyy I would have sworn up and down that I had already posted this fic ??? but I did a bunch of different search attempts and I couldn't find it so I guess I didn't

The premise is basically Loki and Mobius are going to a party and Mobius is helping him with his hair, but Mobius has been studying up on the meanings of different Jotun hairstyles and accidentally-on-purpose picks the one that means "I'm taken." Ofc there's a bit of cultural headcanon involved. It's super fluffy w a little bit of flirtatiousness, so read on and enjoy!

The TVA was having a party.

That wasn’t really the important thing, but it was interesting. Mobius couldn’t remember the last time they’d had a party—but they needed to keep their spirits up after finding out that their entire lives were, in fact, lies, so a party it was. Every sector was having its own, because the TVA was too immense for all of the employees to have fit in a single room if they’d been threatened with death to do it.

Well, anyway, the important thing was that Mobius wasn’t going alone. He’d convinced Loki that it would be more fun to go together than to go separately, or not to go at all.

The other important thing was that Mobius had offered to braid Loki’s hair, which had grown considerably longer than it had been the first time they’d met, and that Loki had taken him up on it.

He’d spent hours studying both Jotun and Aesir braiding styles—not just the actual construction, but also the meaning behind them. In the end he’d picked the Jotun style that signaled “I’m taken” because it was beautiful, and because he was pretty sure Loki didn’t know enough about his own culture to know what it meant himself, so Mobius could convince himself it wasn’t that much of a presumption.

“I’m not so sure about this suit,” Loki said, sitting patiently as Mobius brushed his hair before plaiting it. “The gold stripes are a bit much, don’t you think?”

“What happened to the guy who used to strut around wearing gold armor and a cape?” Mobius teased, beginning the first braid. Left under the middle, right under the middle, he muttered under his breath.

“I’ve been wearing your boring TVA clothes for months,” Loki said, holding out one arm to watch the threads glitter. “The drab must’ve rubbed off on me.”

Mobius rolled his eyes. The truth was, he was outside his own comfort zone in a fancy suit. His didn’t have metallic pin-striping on it like Loki’s did (because it was a bit much) but it was a much sharper cut and a much more dashing style than he was used to wearing. He’d been just an analyst in a plain brown suit for centuries, and now here he was all dressed up like he thought he was Prince Charming or something.

He tried to focus more on the different strands of dark hair in his hands than on the way his fingertips brushed against Loki’s temples as he gathered new locks to add to the braids.

He failed.

As he began to pin the braids up using glittering golden hair pins, he tried to focus more on not stabbing Loki’s  scalp than on the brush of his hands against the nape of Loki’s neck.

He failed.

Loki was built like a prince, Mobius sometimes caught himself thinking. It didn’t matter if it was princedom of Asgard or of Jotunheim. There was an elegance in the set of his shoulders, in the movements of his hands as he wielded his magic, and a determination in the curve of his back and the way he stepped, that was utterly regal. Gold, like the simple rings he was wearing that night and the hair pins Mobius had found for him and the single slim chain around his neck, seemed to have been built into the cosmos for no reason other than to decorate Loki's trim form.

That was waxing poetic. Mobius didn’t do that often—only for Loki and Jet Skis. What could he say, they were both remarkable singularities in the universe.

He finished setting the last braid into place, nestled among several others like a crown across the top of Loki’s head. “All done, puss,” he said, patting Loki on the shoulder.

Loki’s head turned slightly to the side at the use of the nickname, and Mobius could just see a smile tugging at the corner of his mauve-tinted lips. “Do I dare look?” he asked.

“I didn’t mess it up that bad,” Mobius said. Loki chuckled and got up from the floor in front of Mobius’s couch to go check his reflection in the mirror on the other side of the room.

Mobius could see the reflected green eyes widening as Loki caught sight of himself. For some reason Mobius’s heart was in his throat.

“I didn’t know you knew how to do this,” Loki said.

“What, braids?” Mobius managed to speak past his racing pulse. “It’s not that hard.” It was, actually, quite difficult to his untrained hands, but learning it for Loki had made it seem easier.

“No. The Jotun style.”

That quick pulse stopped altogether. Mobius sat there, stock still, feeling very much like he was going to throw up if Loki didn’t break the sudden silence.

He turned from the mirror to look Mobius in the eyes properly. He was smiling, his eyes glittering beneath the faint liner he’d applied earlier that evening and a light dusting of shimmery grey eyeshadow. “Seems the pussycat has caught himself a guilty little mouse,” he said, his voice sultry and honey-smooth, dripping into Mobius’s soul. “You didn’t realize I knew what these braids meant.” It was a statement, not a question. There wasn’t a hint of doubt on his face.

“You caught me,” Mobius said. He was impressed with himself for being able to get any words out at all with Loki’s gaze focused on him like that.

“I’m taken, am I?”

Now Mobius found himself entirely unable to speak. What could he say, after all, other than we’ve been spending a lot of time together and you don’t mind when I call you ‘puss’ and I catch you staring at me sometimes in a way nobody ever has? It seemed stupid even in his brain. None of it meant he and Loki were…whatever he’d been subconsciously thinking they could be when he’d picked the style.

Loki walked back across the room, a new sway in his hips that Mobius was positive hadn’t been there before, and sat down on the couch to lean directly into Mobius’s personal space. For a long moment, far too long, far too breathless, he simply studied Mobius’s face, as though he could see everything single thought that had ever crossed his mind.

“We’ll see about that when we get back from the party,” he said finally, gaze flicking briefly down to Mobius’s lips. “Maybe you’re the one who’s going to be…taken.”

He crossed into that last bit of personal space and pressed their lips together, his touch surprisingly light, stunningly tender, as one arm came up to drape across Mobius’s shoulders and draw him even closer.

“Don’t be so sure of yourself, puss.” Mobius finally found his tongue again and flirted back, laying a hand on Loki’s thigh. “You’re the one with the fancy hairstyle to prove it.”

As Loki laughed, Mobius captured his lips in another kiss, just as soft as before but oh-so-many leagues more passionate, and he thanked his lucky stars he’d been fool enough to pick a Jotun way to call Loki his.

[foone]

Not to think too deeply about writing Tumblr fiction, but I've noticed I've repeatedly been interested in the idea of "imagine a world like ours but with a difference: now post like someone from that world". I've done several posts like this, and I've seen similar premises reblogged around the place. Why not? It can be a fun idea to play with!

But the odd thing for me, is that this is basically the same idea as "THING dashboard simulator", you know? It's just a diffent format with the same basic idea, isn't it? Instead of one long post, you have multiple short posts (inside the real post) from different (fictional) authors, with the theme announced up front instead of in the story text itself.

And you might think why is that odd? Most basic story premises come in a few variations in how it works. So this one comes in two similar instances/memes. Seems normal enough.

Yeah but I personally like the former (a fictional post from a hypothetical different world), I dislike the latter (a "THING dashboard simulator").

And that's odd to me because I'm not really able to figure out why? They seem so similar!

Is it the premise announced upfront? Maybe I like the mini-puzzle of figuring out what the difference is in the story?

Is it that it's about a fictional difference rather than a real one? Like, the former is basically "how would people post in a world where we could all fly?" and the latter is "how would people post in ancient Rome?" and I just like the science-fictional element more?

No, it can't completely be that, because sometimes people do make posts in that style with science fictional premises rather than specific existing setting ones. I guess I could say that maybe it's more likely that? And it lowers the my enjoyment of it below some threshold?

The only other thing I can think of that really divides the two formats/premises is that one has a single fictional author and the other has multiple. I don't know if that really makes it less enjoyable for me, though. Maybe?

And possibly it's just all these options to some degree, and it just adds up to too much in my brain.

[kalims]

⊹ㅤfor you | equestrian club

premise. in an annual tournament they scoured the crowd for a sight of their favorite person. once they saw you—they knew. and the moment they win, it would dedicated to you.

note. this is gonna be a little series I guess? next is basketball club lol but I'll probs work on 'kiss your bestfriend' for scarabia before that

riddle rosehearts

resolve to win is basically rock hard once he saw you in the crowd cheering so loud that he knew you were gonna lose your voice the day after. if riddle wasn't confident he was gonna win he certainly is now.

if he didn't he doesn't know how he's gonna recover from the embarrassment.

I mean of course he's a little pressured now knowing that you're watching so the stakes are a little higher than usual. on the opposing horse, the other person is probably equally confused and mortified by the change of look in his eyes 😰

it's sharper, and definitely most focused. if they didn't know any better, riddle would definitely do anything to snatch that win.

he's torn. like, lowkey; fuck morals and the rules I will run over this sign to get a short cut. cause he really wants to impress you but figured it's a less,,, modest way of doing it.

the other is like normal riddle; how could I ever think about breaking the rules 😡

suprise suprise. his demeanor alone intimidated his opponents and threw them off so he won!

there's over 3 awards from tournaments like these in his dorm but he can't but feel like this one was more memorable than ever.

surpassing his usual limits. it's all because of you, because you pushed him over his bounds this win is for you. he thinks. riddle smiles with his cheeks.

to celebrate... shouldn't he take you out tonight haha...

ㅤ

silver

despite being a little woozy on a horse, silver proves to be a strong contender. lowkey pissing off his enemies with how little regard he seemed to give the competition.

I mean man just looked fresh out of a nap on that goddamn horse!

even though silver looks like he's trying his best (of which you know he is.) comparing him to his teammates would result in silver landing a close second in regards to focus. riddle of course first, he's taking it seriously. sebek on the other hand is confident enough in his abilities to know he's gonna win, therefore he doesn't really care.

silver? well he's just in the silver lining (ha, ha.)

though all the sleep seems to have left him the moment he catches your eyes in the crowd. there's quite literally hundreds of other people and even you don't know how he saw you. he just did, silver admits you have some kind of pull to you that he can't rid of.

which he of course doesn't wanna sever! he's just saying.

even from a little distance you can see his beautiful eyes sparkle in recognition and joy. hell, it's one of the moments you've seen silver express himself even if it isn't verbally. his lips quirk up, his eyes grow a little bit wider and his shoulders square up higher.

as much as silver would just love to relish in his happiness he had a competition to win.

(oh god he had a competition to win! and you're literally in the stands.)

with more fervor anyone's seen in a while it's like his horse understands his sentiment because it quite literally makes a loud 'neigh' battle, war cry of sort and zoom past everyone else.

silver doesn't even approach the stage because once he crosses the line he casually leaps off and jogs towards you. completely disregarding the host in hand with a trophy and medal that would have rightfully belonged to him.

why would he? the only embodiment of his win is right over there. (you.)

ㅤ

sebek zigvolt

of course the statement a few bullets I made over this one is not to underestimate the unmistakable fact that sebek does take the competition more seriously than he let's on.

in terms of focus he just gets distracted but he's going for the win.

but.

out of everyone sebek is most confident in the fact that he'll win. not because the equestrian of NRC has won plenty of times in the past, but because of the fact that it means that as a fae, he'll be representing briar valley in a way.

and in a way he's representing malleus draconia and sebek would never do anything to shame the young master. because all of his wins are dedicated to his glory.

but as many wins he's dedicated to the young lord he can never seem to catch him in the crowd.

sebek does not hold that fact against him. never, because he knows the hassle of being a heir to a kingdom and if attending his competitions meant stealing away the young lords precious time then he won't care. (though sebek believes that his master's faith will be with him without a physical form.) besides, lilia is there and that's all he needs.

he would like to convince himself that when he sees you he bubbles in what he called 'annoyance'. (later on lilia tells him how pleasantly surprised he was with a giggle.) he grips the bridle tighter with an increasingly warming face.

the onlookers spare him a weird look once they realize his tightly contorted face.

what in gods name are you doing here?! sebek never invited you!

agh whatever! he doesn't have time to ponder about a human out of all things. if he wastes it then he'll lose right here and then. sebek doesn't question the sudden burst of energy that accompanies his core but immediately huffs proudly when he crosses first, riddle passing by a few seconds later and sparing him an acknowledgement of a nod.

(interesting. in equestrian sebek has never gotten that much precise control over the path of his horse, which meant versus riddle he never won.) except this time apparently. riddle wonders what changed.

sebek doesn't spare you an action of a turn because he can hear you with his glorious ears from the fae lineage. he casts you a smirk. "did you see me? that is the glory of briar valley," he says simply. "and we do not need your support to win," he adds even though it was not needed.

you raise a brow. "we?"

"yes! were you not cheering for silver and rosehearts just now?" he shakes his head at you. oh this idiot.

"sebek," you say seriously with a laugh. "I went here for you, silly,"

oh.

oh.

steam comically pours out of sebek's ears as he bursts into a fit of splutters and denial. for the first time sebek is flabbergasted by the fact that someone came to cheer him on besides lilia and his admittedly huge signs.

point is you were here and for a moment sebek forgot about his constant wonders of malleus' whereabouts. because you were here.

for once sebek thinks he's won something not in the face of his master nor home. he flushes with a furious look on his face. it isn't so bad...

yes it is!! a part of his mind replies.

notes. OK OK so last song reccs post I had was quite a long time ago so here I am :)) these are more calming songs to listen to but definitely bangers

not proofread

[catmiemy]

Another Chance to Live Final Part (Ana Maria Crnogorčević x Reader)

Summary: Ana and you are facing some big changes.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

A/N: I'm actually very proud of myself for finishing this story relatively fast. And it was a lot of fun to write :)

Thank you to everyone that stuck around till the end. I hope you enjoy this last part!

Of course you didn’t just trust your parents to respect the boundaries you had set in place; that had never been their strong suit after all. Once you had successfully weathered the first onslaught of emotions, you thought about it more carefully and together with Ana put a few precautions in place.

For one you informed the staff at Real that none of your family members should be granted access if they came by to see you. A wise decision, as it turned out. Only a few days later your mother showed up, arguing for so long that she had to be escorted off the premises by security personnel.

You also basically moved in with Ana. No one from your family knew where she lived, so they couldn’t just drop by like they could at your apartment. Another good call as you learnt when your neighbors told you that they had almost called the police because a man fitting your father’s description had been standing in front of the house for so long.

All of this made your guilt kick into overdrive and you were grateful for your girlfriend’s support. She never told you what to do, she was even hesitant to tell you what she would do in your place, but Ana was always there to listen and help you keep apart what you truly wanted from what you felt you should do.

While things with your family were at an all time low, you were incredibly happy with Ana, and practically living together was a welcome change in pace. Both of you were committed to making each other smile with small gestures, so your everyday life was filled with much more happiness than ever before. 

Ana loved to start your day off with a big smile by turning your coffee into a small piece of art, constantly trying out new foam designs. And it didn’t matter if they turned out right or not, you appreciated the effort, and attempting to guess what your girlfriend had been going for was half the fun.

You knew Ana felt the same about something you were doing to brighten her day: learning some Swiss German words. Which wasn’t easy because you couldn’t just use any old translator, you had to invest some time to find the correct words. And often times you failed horribly at pronouncing them, making your girlfriend giggle while she was trying to decipher what you were saying. That in turn always got you laughing as well, which made it even harder to pronounce anything properly.  

The biggest laughing fit set off by your Swiss German attempts occurred when you very proudly asked Ana if she could give you a Schmützeli. You didn’t get quite the reaction you hoped for, a kiss; instead your girlfriend was staring at you, and you couldn’t tell if she was amused or annoyed.

“Wait, does it not mean kiss? Did I mess this up? I’m so sorry if I said something offensive,” you apologized frantically, already pulling out your phone to look at your sources again. You had been so sure, you had even double-checked this.

At that point Ana began laughing, so hard that she couldn’t even say anything. Now it was your turn to stare at her, wondering what was so funny. It was a huge relief though; it couldn’t have been anything too bad if your girlfriend found it so amusing.

After a moment you couldn’t help but join the laughter. You didn’t know what you were laughing about, but Ana’s laughter was simply infectious.

Once your girlfriend had calmed down, she explained it to you still a little out of breath, “Okay, so it’s not even really that funny, but Schmützeli isn’t a word you would use with a partner. At least not where I’m from. It’s more for like small kisses between family members or friends. And it just really caught me off guard.”

You silently agreed, this wasn’t really that funny, and you were still a bit confused why it had made your girlfriend laugh so hard. Then again you were always happy to make Ana laugh, so you weren’t going to complain. And you definitely kept using the word again every once in a while because it amused her every time.  

There were other things you did for each other, like Ana playing the guitar for you, sometimes even singing a song you requested, which made you all chocked up whenever she did. Or you taking pictures of small beautiful things you saw in your day to day life to show to your girlfriend in the evening, eager to share the beauty you had encountered with her.

You also did your best to make your everyday life as special as possible, savoring the time you got together. A part of this was ensuring that you weren’t just spending time together by being around each other, but also by doing things and actively spending time together whenever your crazy schedules allowed it. And sometimes even if they didn’t, carving out time when you didn’t necessarily have it.

It was a good thing your personal life brought you so much happiness because the same thing couldn’t be said about your work. To be honest thinking of football as merely that, work, was painful enough by itself. Sure, it was, but it also always had been so much more than just a job.

Sometimes you still debated if you should just retire and try to find something else that would spark some sort of passion again. However, at the end of the day you weren’t ready to give up on what had been your life’s biggest passion so far.

So you resigned yourself to this reality, where the joy you once found in football only showed itself on very rare occasions. And whenever it did, you clung to it with ferocity to tie you over until the next minuscule moment.

Then, completely out of the blue, you got an offer from another team. It hadn’t even crossed your mind to look around for another club; leaving Madrid had never been something you considered. It hadn’t been something you thought you would ever want to do.

But when you were approached by the managers of Tigres Femenil, you realized all of the sudden that it might be exactly what you wanted. It helped that it was the team Jenni was playing for, so you knew if you actually decided to go through with this, you wouldn’t be totally alone on another continent.

That wasn’t the appeal though, that was merely a helpful factor. What really made you want to do it was the fact that it would be your choice, only yours and no one else’s, not your family’s and not your club’s. It would be you deciding what to do with your life, instead of rolling with the punches others kept throwing at you.

Was that a good enough reason to move halfway across the world, though? Especially since there was one obvious reason keeping you in Madrid, Ana. The thought of not seeing her daily was hard to bare. Then again it probably wasn’t healthy that she was the only good thing in your life at the moment, that was too much pressure to place on one person. So perhaps it would be better for your relationship in the long run if you decided to do this?

On the other hand, Mexico was a long way from Madrid. Would Ana be okay with doing long distance or would this be the end of your relationship? Because in that case you wouldn’t do it.

As was in your nature you drove yourself crazy thinking about every possible outcome either of your choices could have. You did your best to not let on that something was bothering you, but Ana must have noticed anyway because she began acting a bit odd herself, switching between being weirdly distant and overly clingy.

You had almost reached the point of finally broaching the subject, when your girlfriend took the first step. In the morning before leaving for your respective training sessions, Ana nervously asked if you could talk later that night. Of course you agreed, thinking that she wanted to ask you what had been on your mind lately.

Consequently you spent the entire day agonizing about how you could put your thoughts and feelings into words. You made countless drafts in your mind, even though you knew that you wouldn’t be able to remember them in the moment. At least they made you feel a bit better prepared.

Ana was back at your apartment before you and she set everything up nicely with candles and flowers she had gotten for you. You appreciated how she went out of her way to make sure you knew everything was okay. Every once in a while you still got in your head, worried that your girlfriend would leave you if you made on small mistake.

Once you had both settled down, Ana took a deep breath, blurting out, “There is something I have to tell you.”

This took you by surprise. You had been under the assumption she had set this all up to get you to talk. And you instantly began wondering what your girlfriend had to tell you. Naturally your first thought was that she might break up with. However, even you had to admit that preparing a romantic candle light dinner would be a very strange move if you wanted to break up with someone.

“Oh, what is it? I actually have something I need to tell you as well,” you replied, trying to keep your worries out of your voice.

“Really?” Ana exclaimed in surprise. This in turn surprised you, you didn’t think you had been doing a good job at keeping your over thinking a secret.

“You can go first,” your girlfriend quickly offered.

Normally you wouldn’t have accepted such an offer, especially not when Ana had been the one to set all this up to talk to you about something. However, something in her tone sounded almost pleading, as if she desperately wanted you to go first. And begging from your girlfriend was something you could never resist.

“Well, I’m guess I’m just going to come out and say it,” you started, taking a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever might be Ana’s reaction, “I’ve gotten an offer from another club. And I didn’t think it was something I would be interested in, but now that I have it, I realize that I really am. You know how I feel at Real, so this might be my chance to enjoy football again. But then I also don’t want to leave you alone here because I love you and…”

Ana had been listening to you rattling on for a moment, her face unreadable, until she interrupted you sounding oddly excited, “Wait, you’re thinking about leaving Madrid?”

You frowned at her happiness. It was one thing to be excited about something good happening to your partner, but being so happy about them moving away seemed weird to you, and a little painful.

“Wow, no reason to be so happy about getting rid of me,” you mumbled, avoiding your girlfriend’s eyes.

“What? No!” Ana cried out, reaching over to grab your hand. “That’s not what this is about at all. The thing is that I too have gotten offers from other clubs and I didn’t really consider them, but then a few days ago Atleti told me that they wouldn’t renew my contract, so I have no choice but to leave.”

“And I have been feeling so bad about it because just like you said, I didn’t want to leave you behind here either. But if we’re both leaving, it’s a totally different scenario. Sure, long distance is going to suck, but it won’t be forever and at least this way we hopefully both end up in places where we feel happier than at our current clubs.”

Suddenly Ana’s behavior over the last few days made a lot more sense. You had thought she was acting weird because she had picked up on your distress, but really she had been dealing with something herself. Being dropped by yet another team and faced with having to upend her entire life again.

“Ugh, I didn’t think I could hate Atleti more than I already do! How stupid of them to let you go,” you grumbled.

Your girlfriend blinked a couple of times, a smile appearing on her face, “That’s what you’re focusing on right now?”

“Yeah! I’m really annoyed with them! But also…Why didn’t you tell me?”

It wasn’t something you could really complain about since it was very much exactly what you would have done in Ana’s position. Your girlfriend was much better though, when it came to opening up and discussing her struggles. So the fact that she hadn’t told you before didn’t sit right with you.

Ana sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I made up my mind so many times to just come right out and say it, but every time I lost my courage in the last second. Because at it turns out it’s not so easy to tell your girlfriend who you love very much and who has a hard time at work and with her family that you’re moving to another country.”

“Oh.”

You understood that, it was the thing you had been worried about, that Ana felt too much pressure to bring joy to your life because so little else did. Under different circumstances this might have been harder to swallow, but in the current situation it actually helped. It left not a single doubt in your mind, that leaving Madrid was the right choice.

“So, what are your options?” You asked to move on the conversation.

“There are different clubs in Switzerland I could go to, but I don’t really see myself doing that. It would be nice to be close to my family and maybe I should do it to help further women’s football in Switzerland, but it feels more like something I should do, not something I want, you know?”

You knew precisely what she meant. In fact for so long you had made all decisions based on exactly that feeling of ‘I should’, so you were happy Ana didn’t plan on making the same mistake. And you tried to show her that by nodding encouragingly.

“However, the other option is pretty far away, so I just want you to know that no decision has been made yet, and I really want to know what you think. Because if long distance on that scale is a deal breaker for you, I won’t do it,” your girlfriend continued.

Again you nodded, hung up on the fact that you had been having exactly the same thoughts. So as far as distance went this would either work out well for the two of you or Ana would really end up on the other side of the world. What even was on the other side of Mexico? You cursed yourself for your geography knowledge that was clearly lacking.

“Okay, so, the other option is Tigres Femenil. Jenni’s team in Mexico,” your girlfriend rushed out, her eyes flicking between you and the table, as if Ana was torn between wanting to study every miniscule reaction you might show, while also trying to avoid jus tthat.

“What?”

This had to be a joke! Ana probably learnt about your offer from then and decided to play a prank on you. Maybe Jenni had heard about it and told your girlfriend to do this, that would be a Jenni thing to do.

Except not really, though. Your older friend was known for playing pranks and amusing herself at the expense of others, but there was a clear line that she never crossed. And playing with someone’s heart and feelings was on the “don’t”-side of that line.

“I’m sorry! Like I said I haven’t decided yet and if it’s too far then I’ll go to Switzerland. I’m sure that will be great,” Ana apologized frantically. 

“No, wait, that’s not why I reacted like this. The thing is my offer is also from Tigres Femenil, so it just seems a bit unbelievable? People don’t get this lucky in real life,” you explained, disbelief still coloring your tone and set firmly on your face.

“You’re joking right?” Your girlfriend inquired, apparently also having some issues fully accepting this miraculous coincidence as true.

“No, I’m not. They offered me a one year contract with the option for additional years if I like it there and fit well into the team.” Hopefully the added details would make it easier for Ana to believe this was actually happening.

After that the two of you stayed silent for a while, your hearts and minds needed some time to let themselves open up and accept that you were getting much more than you ever hoped for.

You reached that conclusion almost at the same time, huge grins spreading across both of your faces and then there was nothing holding you back anymore. Ana jumped up from her chair first and you swiftly followed suit.

Mere seconds later you basically jumped into your girlfriend’s arms, thinking in the back of your mind that this was exactly how you would celebrate a goal if you would play for the same time. Your heart jumped happily when you realized that you might get a chance to do precisely that next season.

“I’m so happy!” Ana squealed into your ear and you echoed that sentiment.

Moving abroad and playing for another team had sounded excited, but doing so with your girlfriend? That seemed more like a dream than anything else.

Ana and you stayed wrapped up in each other’s arms for a good while, just basking in the happiness. It was a welcome change from the usual reasons you spent so long in each other’s embrace. Normally you did so because one of you, more often than not you, was sad and needed comfort. Now there was not an ounce of sadness present, the air was electrified by excitement and the possibility of everything that was to come.

---

Of course you didn’t decide that night to accept the transfer, not legally at least, but emotionally you definitely did. Still, like the reasonable adults you were, you thought it through, gathered some more information before officially making the choice you had already made the moment you learnt both of you could go to Mexico together.

You called Jenni together to tell her the good news and she was overjoyed. Although if the amount of teasing you had to endure during one measly phone call was anything to go by, you were going to have to put up with a lot next year. You didn’t mind, though. Also you were aware that Ana would put a stop to it if she thought it was getting out of hand. You could as well, Jenni would listen if you seriously told her to stop, but you knew yourself well enough to know that you wouldn’t.

After that Ana and you focused on wrapping up everything in Madrid, sorting out your apartments and such. There was one particular subject you avoided like the plague, your family. You couldn’t leave for Mexico without at least telling them and try one more time, but you also weren’t ready to face them again in the slightest.

Finally you reached a point in time where you could no longer postpone it. Your girlfriend offered multiple times to go with you, but you declined every time, much to Ana’s chagrin. In the end she decided that she would at least drive you and wait for you in a nearby parking lot. You gladly accepted that suggestion.

“And please leave if it gets too much, yeah? Or call me and I will come get you,” Ana reminded you resolutely, still reluctant to let go of your hand.

“Don’t worry, tesoro, I’ll be fine. I don’t think much will come off today, but I just have to try one more time before we leave,” you explained. And it was true; you didn’t have high hopes for your conversation with your family. But even so you ended up being disappointed.

It started with a very frosty greeting, your father leading you into the living room where the rest of your family was sitting. You had chosen that day specifically because you had thought no one else would be over, but apparently you were out of luck. All of your aunts and uncles were assembled, staring at you disapprovingly.

You swallowed roughly, wetting your lips nervously when it became apparent that you would have to lead this conversation. This had been expected, you had even practiced a bit at home with Ana, but now in the moment your mind felt terrifyingly blank. With everyone glaring at you the only thing you could think of was to apologize. And that was the one thing you remembered you didn’t want to do.

“Did you just come here to stare at us?” Your mother questioned unfriendly.  

“No, I…This isn’t so easy. You’re making this really hard for me,” you muttered

“We’re making it hard for you? Do you have any idea what you’ve done to us? Just completely cutting us out of your life because of some random girl you met a few months ago,” your mother accused you.

The guilt and self-doubt threatened to consume you, but you tried to focus on your anger instead. At least the anger would allow you to say what needed to be said, even if you couldn’t lay it out as calmly and clearly as you wanted.

“See, this is what I mean. Everything is always my fault and you never listen to what I have to say,” you defended yourself. “And Ana isn’t just some random girl. I can’t stand that you talk like this about someone I love, someone who I’m pretty sure is the love of my life.”

Your family exchanged meaningful glances, the sentiment on their faces clear as day; they thought you were being ridiculous or childish or dramatic. Three adjectives they loved using to describe you.

“You’re getting too emotional again, niña, that has always been your problem. How do you expect us to take you serious like this? And think about this, you say we’re always acting as if you’re the problem, but in reality it’s you doing that. You always blame everything on us, your horrible family. Poor you with parents, aunts and uncles that support you!”

Condescension was something you were used to, and it had always made you feel very tiny and incredibly mad at the same time. You were an adult for crying out loud, not a little kid. And still in that moment you felt exactly like that.

“Fine, you know what, I can see that this is totally pointless! I don’t even know why I thought I should try again. So I’m just going to tell you the one thing you need to know; once this season is over I’ll go to Mexico to play there. So I guess, see you never?” You yelled, turning around and stomping out of your childhood home, without giving your family any chance to reply. What was the point?

Tears were already streaming down your face as you ran down the street to where Ana was waiting. Your girlfriend saw you coming; she had been keeping an eye out for you practically from the moment you had kissed her goodbye.

When she saw you rushing towards her, Ana’s heart broke. She had hoped this would go better, but your demeanor and the fact that you were back so soon told her everything she needed to know.

Ana quickly clambered out of the car to meet you with open arms. You fell into them, allowing yourself a moment to completely lean into your girlfriend and absorb some strength from her. Not too long though, you didn’t want to risk anyone catching up with you.

“Come on, let’s go,” you requested, already moving to the passenger’s side.

The drive home was mostly silent, your girlfriend held your hand whenever she didn’t need both of them to drive, and only asked you in the very beginning if you were ready to talk. You just shook your head in response. First you would have some more crying to do, before you could even hope to use words.

And you did exactly that, once again safely tucked away in your girlfriend’s arms. You couldn’t wait to get to a point in your life where you didn’t need so much comfort anymore.

“How are you feeling?” Ana prompted once she noticed you were ready to talk. She had seen you biting your cheek, contemplating how to start the conversation and decided to help you out with questions.

“I didn’t have much hope to begin with, but apparently I still had some that could be crushed. And also…,” you stopped, uncertain if you should continue. It felt like you kept bringing up the same things; shouldn’t you get over them at some point?

“Also?”

There was nothing but love and concern on your girlfriend’s face. You didn’t have to worry about her judging you, this was a safe space.

“I’m so annoyed with myself. I couldn’t even say much before I ran away. I can just hear them calling me a dramatic little girl who runs away as soon as things get though”, you gritted out.

Ana tensed at your harsh words towards yourself and she forced herself to count to three before answering, not wanting to sound too intense. There was however nothing she could do about the emotions lingering in her voice.

“Please stop listening to their voices in your head. I don’t think removing yourself from a bad situation is running away, that’s a smart move really. You need to take care of yourself.”

You nodded thoughtfully, “You know I’ve been thinking about that and realized I often put their needs and wants over mine. But I guess putting others first only works if they do the same. Otherwise if I always put them first, but they never put me first, I’m just always going to end up last, right? I think that’s what’s been happening all my life and I’m done with it!”

“Absolutely! If anything your parents should be putting you, their child, first. That’s what my mom said when I talked about it with her. She also said some other things, but I’m not sure if you want to hear them or if it’ll just make you sad.”

Ana studied you carefully, every sign of pain embedded in your body hurting her as well. She hated how that you had to deal with this, so the last thing she wanted to do was to add any pain to it.

“No, please, tell me. I think it will be helpful, hearing what an actual good parent thinks about all of this,” you requested.

You had only met Ana’s parents twice before, but they had been everything you wanted your own family to be. They were excited to see their daughter, but expressed that without making her feel guilty for not being around more. And they had welcomed you with open arms, clearly very pleased that Ana had found a special someone to share her life with.

“She also said that nothing makes her happier than seeing us, her kids, living our best life. Not some life my parents pictured for us, but the life we choose. She can’t really understand why so many people try to force their kids to be something they’re not. According to her slowly getting to meet your children’s truest self is one of the biggest joys of them growing up.”

Your eyes filled with tears again causing your girlfriend distress. You had been sitting opposite each other, hands intertwined in between you, but now Ana pulled you into her embrace again.

“See, I knew I shouldn’t have said anything,” your girlfriend cried out.

You shook your head, “I wanted to hear that, I needed to hear that. It makes me feel less unreasonable and ungrateful.”

Ana gently kissed the top of your head, rubbing comforting circles on your back. “You’re anything but, you’re absolutely amazing.”

The longer you were with your girlfriend and the more she told you things like these, the easier it became to believe them. It wasn’t easy or natural yet, but you found yourself questioning your old beliefs much more often.

You didn’t speak more about it that evening, indulging in some self care instead. However, a few days later you recognized that it was still bothering you. There was no way you would try again, but it also didn’t feel right to shut the door to your family completely.

Surprisingly when you brought it up to Ana, one day after training when you were cuddling on the couch, you practically on top of your girlfriend, she informed you that she had been thinking about that as well.

“How about you set up an email account just for them? This way you can check it every once in a while when you feel up to it, or I can even check it if you prefer. That would allow them to contact you if they have a change of heart, but you aren’t constantly bombarded with unwanted messages.”

A huge weight was lifted from your heart when you heard this suggestion. That was precisely what you wanted, some small gap left open, but nothing that would affect you in your everyday life. The last thing you wanted was to constantly get attacked by hurtful messages.

You placed a few kisses everywhere on your girlfriend’s face, uttering one word between each kiss,”You. Are. The. Best. Girlfriend. In. The. World. And. I. Love. You. So. Much.”

Ana happily accepted your kisses. “So, no second thoughts about moving to Mexico?” She inquired cautiously.

“Not a single one, I’m so excited for it, and I won’t let my family ruin it. Plus it would be the same if I stayed here. If anything being not only in another country, but on another continent might actually be good for me.”

“Good, because I’m very excited about it,” your girlfriend announced with a big smile.

“Me too,” you agreed.

In fact you couldn’t wait to start that adventure with Ana. You had never allowed yourself to be an adventurous person, telling yourself, or really being told by your family, that you were anything but.

However, now you realized that you did have an adventurous streak and it was high time you used it. For too long you had lived the life everyone else wanted you to live, but now you were getting another chance at life, at the life you truly wanted.

You didn't even wait until you moved to Mexico. A few days before leaving, you dragged Ana to a hairdresser, stating that both of you should change up your look to start over fresh.

What you didn't expect though, was for your girlfriend to decide she wanted to color her hair pink. You had thought about something more along the lines of cutting your hair a little shorter.

But then Ana announced with a big grin that she was going pink, and you made a split second decision, telling the hairdresser to whip up some purple hair dye for you.

And that's how the two of your started off your new life, one of you pink haired and the other one purple. You loved the way it looked and couldn't care less when pretty much the first thing out of Jenni's mouth when she picked you up from the airport was, "Where are you two going? A five year old's birthday party?"

"Shut up, Jenni, you're just jealous of us," Ana retorted.

Jenni rolled her eyes, "Maybe, but I get a feeling you're going to help me get over that by annoying me with your lovey-doveyness."

"Absolutely," you agreed, pulling your girlfriend against yourself and kissing her passionately.

"Fine! I'll stop if you stop!" Jenni exclaimed, grabbing one hand from the both of you and marching you towards the exit. "Bienvenida a México, chicas!"

[comicgeekery]

Sherlock and Co.

So I just listened to the latest episode, the conclusion of A Case of Identity. I have to say, it was deeply disappointing. For the most part I've been really enjoying Sherlock and Co. It's been fun and engaging. The actors are great. It's a solid new take on "Sherlock Holmes but in the 21st century". I love that they're going through all the stories of the original canon and giving them modern updates. So many Sherlock Holmes adaptations seem to have the basic trappings of the characters and premise without any interest in the original mysteries. This show is clearly being made with love and deep attention to detail. Also, on a personal note, my heart melts every time it explicitly (and even casually!) confirms that Sherlock is autistic and that that is a DISABILITY for him. He gets overstimulated. It gives him an often restricted diet. He hurts people's feelings from not picking up social cues and feels bad about it! There's also a lot of hints that Sherlock used to struggle to interact with others FAR worse than he currently does, to the point where he has never graduated from any school he attended. And John is kind and supportive, understanding the situation as a friend and a doctor, while also having his own understandable limitations. He gets annoyed with Sherlock sometimes and they need to hash things out. It's not perfect between them, but I can see how they're growing closer as they come to understand each other. John Watson is also handled very interestingly in this podcast. He's clearly got some issues of his own he's going through. There's some obvious PTSD from his time in Afghanistan, but also more mundane issues. He feels unappreciated by his mother and still grieves the father that died when he was ten. He's clearly massively insecure, as he constantly expresses jealousy of other people's wealth, good looks, and success. He seems to perk up every time he hears of an idea that could, in theory, make him rich or successful. He constantly second-guesses himself in any social situation because he's so afraid of looking foolish. I even think the reason that he himself decided to call their detective/podcasting business Sherlock and Co. (rather than Sherlock and Watson or something more evenly balanced) is because of his profound insecurity. He doesn't think anyone would care about the role he plays in the business. Clearly Sherlock is the only interesting person there.

But for all of that, I think this is the most competent, helpful, and good Watson I've ever seen. (ACD's Watson is excellent, but the stories almost always really downplayed his role in the crime-solving.) He is shown, again and again, to be an excellent doctor and more than that, one who is very calm and capable under extreme pressure. (Which makes perfect sense with his history as an army doctor.) If someone gets shot at your wedding, Dr. John Watson is the one who will have the skill and the presence of mind to use an expired condom as a tool to save their life. And he's also a good co-detective. He regularly helps Sherlock see connections that Sherlock might have missed. Things relating to pop culture, to social norms, to anything medical, not to mention all the support and encouragement John offers. And Sherlock genuinely appreciates it! These two are an actual, real team! It's excellent! (I have a soft spot in my heart for Nigel Bruce's Watson, but I can't deny that he inspired a real line of idiotic, totally a sidekick, why-are-you-even-here Watson portrayals. Granted, we've gotten away from that in most modern portrayals; Liu, Freeman, and Law were also very capable, though I think Liu was easily the smartest. It's just refreshing to have a Watson I can respect.) But all of that is a pretty roundabout way of getting to my point of what disappointed me with A Case of Identity. So, in the original Case of Identity story, a woman comes to Sherlock and Watson saying that her fiancee has disappeared. The eventual solution is that everything about this fiancee was a lie. He was actually her evil stepfather in disguise "wooing" her with the intention of disappearing mysteriously and leaving her too heartbroken and loyal to think of marrying anyone else (and thus depriving her stepfather of her fortune). The Sherlock and Co. adaptation has a solid update to the story. It's now about a rich, though insecure, man who's being cat-fished. He loves "Angel", even wants to marry her, and has given her tons of money for two years now. He's only going to Sherlock at all because he has a friend who thinks the situation is sketchy. In a parallel to the original story, it turns out that "Angel" is actually Des, the client's stepfather. It started off as a scheme from Des and the mother, Clara, to keep Miles from dating women they didn't approve of. Then Des went behind Clara's back to keep the charade going and get more and more money, consequently getting more and more intimate with his stepson the whole time. I was already a bit nervous at that point, because Des was coming dangerously close to playing out a transphobic stereotype. Being a man who pretended to be a woman for personal gain, and willing to completely betray and deceive the people closest to him. It also didn't help that John had made a point of saying that there was nothing wrong with being a Tory mere minutes before. (Which to me read as more of his insecurity and need to not alienate the in-universe listeners but certainly wasn't interrogated.) But I tried to be optimistic and kept listening. Unfortunately...it was even worse than I'd feared. Des turned out to not only being grifting his stepson through a semi-incestuous cat-fishing scheme, but he had a split personality. Angel had become real through Des having a mental health crisis. And she could spontaneously take over, which she did in order to grab Clara and hold a knife to her throat when the truth came out. Finally, Angel/Des tries to kill themself, which is something the show has the audacity to make a joke about before the audience knows if Des lived or died.

Sooooo, yeah. That's incredibly offensive on so many levels. Angel, while not quite a trans character (I think?) plays into transphobic rhetoric beat-for-beat. It's also an incredibly cliche representation of split personality disorder that plays into extremely tired representations of people with mental illnesses being violent dangers to society. And that's especially disappointing because of the attention Sherlock and Co. usually pays to portraying mental health issues with sensitivity. What the fuck, Sherlock and Co.? Did you get a new writer for this one? Did they time travel directly from the 1950s? This is cheap drama that hurts. It hurts trans women. It hurts people with mental illnesses. And it hurts the wider queer and disabled communities. Which, if you're trying to get popular with the most vocal Sherlock Holmes fans today, are largely the exact people you most want to like you.

Cards on the table, I've been really hoping this show would finally be the adaptation where John and Sherlock would become an actual, explicit couple. It's something fans have longed for for literal generations and now that all of Sherlock Holmes is in the public domain it can finally definitely happen. I felt like Sherlock and John had good chemistry and were maybe even flirting in previous episodes, but I'll save those theories for now. My point is that this is a show where I believed that could happen. I trusted Sherlock and Co. to be respectful and thoughtful. And I'm not saying that all my goodwill is gone now. But it has taken a hit. Sherlock and Co. has been overwhelmingly clever and interesting, finding creative ways to recast the classic stories while still keeping their hearts. I love the acting, I love the action and mysteries, and I haven't even come close to expressing how much thought I've put into what overarching plot threads might be getting established in each episode.

But I won't be able to continue to enjoy those parts if I come to spend my time listening more concerned about if a plot twist is going to leave me feeling attacked. I don't know who writes for this show and I don't know if you read any reviews on Tumblr, but I hope you do. And I hope you do better in the future. An apology and some good trans representation in the future would be nice. Please, I really want to be able to obsess about your show peacefully!

[thecircularsystem]

So, I was recently part of a server run by a system as an experiment. A month of chatting with people, but we couldn't mention our origins, and at the end, we had to guess others origins.

Let's talk about it.

[Note: I am just going to be talking about the server, the survey, and a few thoughts about origins here. This is largely fluff and disappointment and bitching about the flaws I saw in the server. I'll be making a proper post about origins later that's not as connected to this.]

So, firstly, I used an alt account in order to participate in the server. My regular discord ID has my system name in it, and I didn't want to make things too easy. I popped in and talked, and I tried my absolute best to make it so obvious that I had a CDD, while also trying to make it obvious that I wasn't just a CDD system. I knew it would be next to impossible for people to guess my origins, so I was just there to have fun.

I knew immediately that I would dislike the server. For one thing, I already didn't really like the server runner -- sorry, if you're reading this, but genuinely, my system has an aversion to you. Not sure why -- don't fully remember -- but it's there and it made me wary. But, bigger than that, I figured out quickly just how poorly planned the server was. It got BIG, fast, and moderators were chosen seemingly at random. I remember a user was picked because the group names were based around food, and their username matched the food their group represented. That... is a very bad way to pick mods. Then there was the 2 minute speaking timer, which had to be circumvented with threads, and the realization that there was a thirteen year old in the server after I had brought up NSFW content... I do not join servers with younger people anymore and genuinely thought the server was 18+.

It was just... very disorganized. So, strike one.

Regardless, it was fairly easy to guess what people's origins were (not accurately, but I'll get into that at the end/in another post) at the most basic level, and who they were, as evidently, nobody else tried to hide their blogs or identities as hard as I did. I shared servers with around half of the participants already, and others were... fairly easy to guess from their syscourse presence. I think the highlight of the experiment was someone from the server contacting me (Circ) and talking about the experiment with me, not knowing initially who I was in the server. Genuine hilarity there.

But, of course, we were there to try to guess people's origins, so I was trying to find out what I could about those in my group. 7 participants in the group (myself included), and... Well, strike two.

Genuinely, this was the stupidest premise for a server in the world. In my opinion, at least. The thing is, all of these guesses have to be based entirely on stereotyping -- the language the system uses, the way they speak, the concerns they have about the community. A system who uses the term "headmates," is concerned about fakeclaiming more than symptoms of plurality, and focuses more on the plural aspect of systemhood than anything else is likely not experiencing a CDD.

Which, in this set-up, means you're endogenic. And that's a problem. But we'll get to that in the next section. First, I just want to mention that I consider this a strike against the premise of the server because so much was banned from being mentioned. It wasn't... formally said to be censored, but even amongst my friends outside of the server, I saw them say numerous times, "It's so easy to guess who X is because it's obvious they have a CDD!" And genuinely, that indicates nothing about a person's origins, spoken as a true CDD mixed-origin system. It's the Fenmere Clause, right? There's always an exception. So to see this sort of culture on never mentioning your disorder, never mentioning trauma, never mentioning your experiences in the system community while being asked to share them... Eventually, I just started censoring myself entirely in the server, cutting out chunks of writing with little brackets saying [Origin Information] or something similar.

If the point is to be able to guess origins, I need to be able to share more than just the stereotyping that people rely on. It needs to be a fair chance.

Then the end came, and... for fucks sakes, that's what sparked this entire post. I had planned to wirte up a post, of course, but lord.

At the end, we had to guess how likely it was that someone "had a CDD, was endogenic, or was a created system." Funny enough, my origins (mixed-origin, fully traumagenic CDD system with multiple created parts AND a dreamway part) weren't listed, not fully. Traumagenic wasn't even an option for those who don't have CDDs.

Now, look, I am a CDD system. I consider that to be my "main" origin. But to only count "CDD, created, or endogenic," you discount one of my parts entirely, one who is one of the most helpful parts. The survey also didn't ask if people had created parts, but if they were a created system, which... I'm not. So that furthermore discounts two of my parts who are created -- and still equally traumagenic.

Furthermore, when asked for clarification, the moderator had... this to say.

For CDD, you either have one or don't (or at the very least it's more cleanly binary than origin), so I asked for the positive For origin, people "testing for purity" for lack of better wording coming to mind usually care about any percentage of endogenesis. And while CDD does not necessarily mean traumagenic, traumagenic is very nearly a subset of CDD

To translate, as that left such a sour taste in my mouth I thought I threw up a little, what this meant was, "Some of the users are anti-endos, and so if you have one endogenic part, most of those users will assume you're entirely endogenic."

...

So, rather than the point of the server being, "Can you guess someones origin?" it became "Can you guess someones origin if I painstakingly make a survey that caters to anti-endo beliefs and erases the origins of members of the server?"

Wonderful. Strike three.

Genuinely, I'm not sure what possessed the server owner to phrase the questions this way. Catering to the anti-endos wasn't the point of the server, and it erases the members origins. There should have been a way to identify what, exactly, you felt each member IDENTIFIED as. If an anti-endo does not believe in endogenic plurality (which, yes, many members of the server did not), then at the very least, they can say that a user identifies as endogenic, or mixed origin, or spiritual, stressgenic, adaptive, quoigenic, OR ANY of the THOUSANDS of origin options out there.

I would've done a multiple choice list of, "Here's what members of your group identify as, based on their intake survey; can you assign each of these labels to individuals in your group?" What was the purpose of an intake survey at all if you ignore the origins to cater to the anti-endos?

I'm not going to lie, I was incredibly frustrated, more than a little mad, and just...

Disappointed. Which, I figured I would be going in.

The thing is, origins aren't guessable in this manner. Nobody in that server could have looked at me and gone, "Ah! Yes, it is clear that this individual is a mixed-origin CDD system who identifies with CDD as an origin while having created traumagenic parts and a dreamway part." DREAMWAY IS A LABEL WE FUCKING MADE UP!!!! It would be impossible to guess unless they heard about me personally.

And that's the reason this type of experiment is bullshit. Sure, you can... hazard a guess if someone has a CDD or is endogenic or is mixed-origin or any of the above. But... You can't know. You can't get it perfectly accurate. Sure, based on vibes you can guess, and maybe you can even guess accurately for the most part.

BUT EVERY SYSTEM IS DIFFERENT AND UNIQUE ANYWAYS. So why does it matter?

It doesn't.

But the system community doesn't seem ready to accept that yet.

All in all, I'm incredibly disappointed in the server and how it went. I enjoyed the conversations we had there, and I enjoyed the company. I'm still enjoying talking there!! Now that origins are revealed, I want to talk about how my mixed-origin parts impact my CDD parts, and how they are CDD parts at the same time. I want to discuss it!!!

I would even hazard to say I made some new friends, and likely a few enemies (someone from my group, not knowing who I was, was even liking posts that were actively libel against me from harassers I have. How fun!)

But the experiment portion of it was an entire, complete disaster. And I think... genuinely, most people expected it to be.

Sigh.

[scullysflannel]

hiiii apologies if i'm sending you too many asks lol, don't feel pressured to reply right away or at all tbh, but there's this thing ive been turning over in my head about the x files that's like... so in many ways it has these conservative ideas kind of baked into the premise and format of the show. these fears of monsters and monstrous others that have to be investigated and neutralized by our heroes who are these beautiful professional looking white people. and then there's the looming fear of alien invasion that comes up in the myth episodes. so theres a lot that could and should and does feel reactionary and conservative about it. but theres also such a palpable love for the strange and unknown? the "i want to believe" poster represents this so beautifully. i think this love tends to be expressed visually rather than in words so it's kind of hard to concretely describe but i'm sure you know what i'm talking about. and then the show also relies on us the audience having an interest in the paranormal and unexplainable, not because we want to see it defeated, but for its own sake. so i guess i want to ask how you square those two ideas, that the x files has all these anxieties about weirdness but also loves and yearns for weirdness? as i said ive been kind of ruminating on this for a while and having trouble reconciling the two ideas so i'd love to hear your thoughts!

Ooh I kind of just want to give you a reading list. Have you read “In the Dark” by Brian Phillips?? It’s a Grantland essay written for the 20th anniversary in 2013. It’s my favorite piece of X-Files journalism (actually my favorite piece of entertainment journalism in general) — kind of an essential text to me. It gets into all of this. But for me I don’t feel like reconciling the tension is the goal, or that it’s even possible. The tension is the show.

Likely thing for me to say, but I think the structure of The X-Files as a procedural is a big part of how and why it moves between fear and love. Phillips describes Mulder and Scully as representatives of a doomed but still operational status quo, “figures of a weird reactionary beauty, struggling to understand and then prevent the profound transformation breaking out across their world.” I’d say that last part (prevention) is especially true of the mythology, with the monster-of-the-week episodes giving space to sometimes complicate that. 

The X-Files is traditional in its basic formula; it makes assumptions about who gets to be the hero and what kind of job they should have. There are some assumptions it doesn’t interrogate, like its default whiteness. But its critique of the government can be shockingly pointed, even if it holds itself back in later seasons by keeping Mulder and Scully in the Bureau well past the point where they should go rogue. (Not that I think the show actually could have done that.)

Does The X-Files love its boundaries or want to blow them up? Both. The appeal of a procedural is typically that it gives neat answers, so being a procedural that denies easy answers is the point, which is to say that both sides of the show are dependent on each other. The whole show is sort of an experiment in fitting some of the strangeness of Twin Peaks into a procedural. I think it’s meant to be a go-between, the same way Mulder and Scully are. 

Phillips also writes, “In this show about not knowing, the agents confronted two distinct sets of frightening unknowns. On one side was the shadow government represented by the Cigarette-Smoking Man. On the other was the evil that lurked beneath the surface of every American hamlet. Often, Mulder and Scully’s role was simply to act as interpreters between their own antagonists, rendering chaotic eruptions of small-town horror comprehensible to men in marble corridors in D.C.” I think The X-Files works like that too — interpreting between what’s regimented and what’s odd — and in that sense it has to yearn for the same things it’s afraid of. And really, I prefer the honesty of that to something more ideologically consistent. 

I always think about “Home” as an episode that sums up a lot of The X-Files’ attitude toward progress (more on this here): It isn’t immune to the romance of the myth of Mayberry, even as it’s aware that it’s a grotesque lie built on violence, and that people are committing perverse acts to hold on to it. The show allows for progress to be scary but insists that it’s not as scary as what people will do when they fear it. Weirdness on The X-Files isn’t perfectly analogous for righteous deviance only. I believe the show sees what is weird coming from all sides, past (like the Peacocks) and future, so what’s weird isn’t inherently good or meant to signify inherent goodness; it only can be good. 

One of my favorite things about The X-Files is the way it respects the integrity of doubt. (I’ve written about this! But hold off on reading if you don’t want any spoilers.) I don’t think the show could be about the bravery of questioning your beliefs without letting those old beliefs be a little bit comforting to Mulder and Scully, even the ones that turn out to be lies. There’s a great New Yorker essay by James Wolcott written in 1994, near the end of the first season. He writes that in The X-Files, the Cold War-era obsession with UFOs and alien invasion gives way to the more inward-looking fear of alien abduction: “The X-Files is the product of yuppie morbidity, a creeping sense of personal mortality.” Later on, the mythology incorporates shapeshifters and alien colonization plans, but it never commits. That’s never the emotional core of the show in the way abduction is. The core of the show is personal annihilation: the fear of death and losing loved ones, and the fear of tearing yourself apart to get to the truth.

But some of the most affecting episodes are the ones that love and yearn for the weirdness in spite of it all. Like you said, it’s always in the atmosphere and the visuals (the poster, or Mulder looking up at the stars), but I think the show puts words to it pretty often, too, like “I guess I see hope in such a possibility” in “Quagmire” and especially all of “Humbug”: “Imagine going through your whole life looking like that.” There’s so much affection for peculiarity in that episode. Still, I love that ultimately it’s just a fact: “Nature abhors normality.” It doesn’t actually matter whether you like what’s “freakish” or not; it’s just nature. I think all of The X-Files kind of evens out into a neutral judgment like that, which is nice and even kind of radical in its own way. What is weird doesn’t have to be beautiful and desirable; it just has to be seen and accepted.

[nevertheless-moving]

Stormlight AU #3 (Kalarin Rumors): Chapter 7 Part 2

Chapter One Premise Outlined Here

"Captain? Can we speak for a moment?"

"Of course," Captain Kaladin said, not looking up from the indecipherable chart of messy glyphs, laid atop a pile of those like it. “Just let me finish — Sigzil what about seventeenth—” Teft sighed, leaning against the door and idly picking at his fingers. A few minutes later the two managed to finish their conversation. The worldsinger gave Teft a sympathetic look and a pat on the shoulder as he passed by on the way out.

Teft felt he deserved more than that for what he was about to do.

He stepped into the Captain's private room, which functioned more like an office for how often he actually slept, closing the door behind him.

Best to get it over with. Teft squared his shoulders.

"I was hoping to talk to you about... whatever's going on with you and Prince Renarin." 

Kaladin blew out a heavy breath, leaning back against the desk. To his credit, he didn’t look embarrassed, so much as resigned. "Alright. Yes, we guessed that figured that you all had... noticed something."

"You could say that," Teft said carefully. Hard not to notice when you come back from private ‘training’ wearing each others shirts. Idiots.

The captain scrubbed a hand across his face. "Give me until tonight, alright? I'm pretty sure Renarin is about ready to talk openly with everyone."

"Uh," Teft said, face screwing up, a spark of panic rising from beneath the awkwardness. "Storms lad, I wasn't suggesting you make an announcement… we're just worried about the lighteyes noticing something. Prince Adolin basically walked in on the two of you, doing..." he coughed into his hand. "Whatever you were doing."

"I appreciate your concern," Kaladin said. "Truly, I can’t tell you how grateful I am for the tremendous loyalty you've all shown, covering for us without asking questions. Not to mention how much of an effort you've made to include him in the crew." 

"He's... a decent kid. For a lighteyes," Teft said begrudgingly. "And, well. We've all noticed you've been, uh. Sleeping better. Which...storms he could be a lot more annoying and we'd probably still teach him cards, for your sake, you have to know that."

"He really is a good person," Kaladin said, looking slightly defensive.

"Of course," Teft agreed quickly.

"And he's hardly a kid. He’s barely a few months younger than me."

"You're a decent kid, too," he said, smoothing his expression with long practice. Storms really? I knew you were young but... the prince was nineteen, wasn't he? Blood of my fathers, I’ve been following a teenager. Well. At least this makes a bit more sense now, Almighty help us all.

"I'll go check with Renarin, but do you think we might be able to get the men to meet inside tonight, after dinner shifts are over? I'd rather not risk being overheard by any of the other crews, and it would be easiest if we could talk with everyone off duty all at the same time.” Kaladin scratched his chin, looking down at the pages. “Actually, if we make a few switches, if Lopen’s cousins and the old guard agree…could probably get most of the original bridge off for the evening."

"Jezrian's crown,” he whispered. “So it's… so it’s serious then?" Of course it was. When did you do anything not seriously. Stormfather, what were they going to announce? It’s been less than two weeks!

"You could say that." 

Teft looked to the sky. Oh, this was going to end in desolation. But the two were young, and had more determination than sense. "Nothing’s ever simple with you, is it lad?" 

Kaladin sighed, then stood, patting Teft on the shoulder as he walked outside.

They found Renarin polishing leathers with Mart and Bisig, all three listening to Lopen tell some story with grand gestures and whole body movements. 

The prince perked up like an axehound pup when the Captain approached. Storms. A lighteyes who acted like a loyal servant, and a darkeyes who acted like a caring lord. Maybe they deserved each other.

The two stepped away, conferring with bowed heads. Mart and Bissig exchanged amused expressions, while Lopen stared, leaning their direction with utter shamelessness.

The brightlord blanched, hands fumbling for his box. Kaladin put a hand on his arm, smiling softly and whispering something. 

Teft turned away, not wanting to see anymore. Damnation, he needed a drink. Kaladin Stormblessed could probably have had any darkeyes he wanted in all of the camps. Nales scar, he probably could have had a fair number of the tenners, maybe even a niner. But no. The ambitious moron had to reach for a third dahn, son of a highprince. Why didn't he just storming try and seduce the king and be done with it?

No. I’m being unfair. Teft groaned, kicking a rock with his nice, black leather boots. Boots he wouldn't have had if it weren't for the captain.

Kaladin was a good man. Maybe some would accuse him of social climbing, but anyone who knew him knew how ridiculous the idea was of him using someone like that. The two morons were in love, or, more likely, having good enough sex that they had convinced themselves it was love.

They should have been more insistent about dragging Kaladin to a brothel. The man just hadn’t seemed interested. In any of it! Not that he had been listening, when they were all living in Sadeas bridgeyard, without the nice privacy shields even Kholin infantryman got but he had never even heard the Captain —

"Teft?" 

He jumped, turning to face the captain guiltily.

The man gave him a slightly curious expression, but didn't ask. 

"Renarin's ready. We'll talk to everyone tonight — those who aren't on evening guard anyway."

"I'll tell the men,” Teft said, resigned. “Some will kick up a fuss about not going out, but they’ll all want to hear."

Kaladin nodded once, then looked past Teft, noticing a sergeant from bridge twelve who was hovering nearby. He walked over to deal with one of his ten ten impossible responsibilities. 

An announcement. Screw a drink, he would deserve something stronger than that after tonight. All he wanted was for the lads to be a bit more discreet. And they had to go and decide to make an announcement. 

They couldn't be planning on getting married, could they? Bad enough he strongly suspected they’d already traded soldier's oaths. It had been what — jez's balls, six days, seven? And it was insane besides, the prince's rank — Almighty's tenth name, what was the prince going to do, resign his position to be with his lover? Disinherit himself? Could he do that? 

…Highprince Dalinar might actually kill the captain. He might kill all of them, while he was at it.

Teft sighed, then went on his own way, spreading the word like a death sentence.

[poppuppink]

WE GOING TO TALALA WITH A DOLL? PART 2

Summary: You've started working at the mansion and adjusting well to the tasks, but are soon met with rather weird experiences with the Heelshire family.

TW: NONE, just making it a bit creepy now Word Count: 1.4k

Something was off with how the Heelshires greeted you by the mansion doors ever since you were hired to be their son's nanny. Becoming a nanny to a wealthy old couple, given the stature of their mansion and the jewels that mock your eyes, has built up different adjustments to follow through to really keep the job. Those adjustments were made in your favor, such as the driver of the Heelshires who chaperoned you to the mansion. It made traveling easy, sure, so you ease into that adjustment as with the next. That being, to dispose of vermin that live in and out of the Heelshire estate. Apparently, the couple were keen to ensure that even the cracks of the walls were no more than just a way to peek through but not enough for any vermin to enter the premises. Your reaction to this wearying task didn't faze the couple, in fact, they would be paying extra for your efforts to push through with the task. The pay alone, set yourself straight to continue with the job, even getting an improving nod from Mr. Heelshire himself.

Adjustments such as those weren't hard to get by, but soon their requests took a weird turn when they started asking you to play music as loud as possible on their phonograph. You assumed it was because of their old age that they needed the volume to be that high, but they made you play music even when they went out for some errands. Another task for you was to talk with Brahms. You thought in pity that the Heelshires' mental health had deteriorated this far to lead to this delusional scenario, so even when they went out, you still mustered up the courage to talk to the doll about anything. You did it so often (from pity or interest, who knows) that you were eavesdropped by the couple who peeked by the mansion doors.

After a few months of following the tasks and specific rules, Mr. Heelshire called you to the library one day to talk about future plans he has for you.

"Come in, my dear." Mr. Heelshire stood by a shelf of books, his weight leaning on his cane and an open book in his other hand.

You walk in the library from your place at the doors and see the nod Mr. Heelshire points to the couch.

Letting out a shaky breath, your frame goes rigid, and Mr. Heelshire readjusts himself on the cane with the closed book beside him and faces you with a cold face.

"How do you like this job so far?" He asks

"It's okay, I guess." You reply with the most basic answer you could make up on the spot

"How much?"

You barely register the words before you can add on to answer his first question

"Huh?" Your eyebrows scrunch and look him in the eyes

"I'm asking how much more do you want us to pay you for you to continue working here?"

Mr. Heelshire sounded stern, but you could feel the slight desperation in his words.

"Oh. Oh no, Mr. Heelshire, you pay plenty enough." You try to reassure the old man, thinking his wife and him were already having a hard time finding a nanny like you, even when the pay itself could make anyone apply for the job.

"My dear, just say the word, and I can make other accommodations for you to continue working, I assure you." He pushes the offer again, but you exasperate the shaking of your head.

"I'm really okay with all you've done, Mr. Heelshire. There's really nothing more you can do; I already love the job as is."

Mr. Heelshire takes a deep breath and blinks a few times. His head heavy on his hand, massaging his temple.

The creak of the library doors caught both of your attention. Mrs. Heelshire approaches you both and sits beside you holding your hand. Her gaze is grounded on the floor, shifting to your face with a plastered plea.

"Dear, all you need to do is ask, we can get you anything you want." She rubs your hands with her thumb. "Please, if you could, we'd like it if you could stay longer with us."

"Mrs. Heelshire, I'm serious; I love the job. I don't see a reason for me to quit now." You try to rebut again

"I fear you will change your mind when you hear our next request, my dear." She softly replies

Her husband leans in and looks at you, his cold expression now melted off with an almost scared expression

"We're planning to go on vacation by next week and we want you to watch over Brahms for the next 6 months."

It was curt and clear, but his eyes held worry and stress. Was it that stressful for them to keep a nanny? Just what kind of experiences did the couple go through to beg for you to keep the job?

"Oh." Your reply was of relief; your thoughts of much worse news fleeted away

"That would be fine with you, my dear?" A quip in the wife's voice, her grip on your hands were eager for your reply.

"Yes, of course. I'm fine with caring for Brahms while you're gone." You answer firmly to the couple, smoothing out the worry from their eyebrows

"Oh, my dear, you have no idea how much this means to us!" Mrs. Heelshire embraces you in happiness as Mr. Heelshire relaxes in his seat.

Just like that, it's already next week. The couple stands in royal purple, their gazes follow you as you greet them by the front doors. Besides them, a shaggy man in a dark jacket greets you with a handshake

"Hello, my name is Malcom, nice to be working with you." His grip firm and energetic, stepping away as soon as Mr. Heelshire spoke up.

"He, my dear, will be the grocery delivery boy who will accommodate your needs while you are here. Since our driver will be needed, we thought Malcom is the perfect man to do groceries and other tasks for you so you would not need to leave the mansion."

You shift your gaze between Malcom and Mr. Heelshire, nodding along at his explanation.

True that you'd need to stay within the mansion for 6 months, it would become hard for you to buy or do tasks in the city if the ride was longer than an hour and the driver was no longer available to help you out.

The old couple explains a few more rules and repeat about the handbook again, their tone turning sad from time-to-time. Ms. Heelshire returns to the mansion and hands you Brahms, her glossy gaze held remorse as her fleeting fingertips release her son.

Malcom was nowhere in sight as you two return outside, Mr. Heelshire stares at the mansion, specifically the 2nd floor walls. His eyes shift back to you two and he soon lets out a loud sigh of relief.

"My boy, I will miss you dearly!" He says loudly and pats the doll's head.

"We will miss you dearly my son, please stay safe with ____ and be on your best behavior!" Mrs. Heelshire follows pursuit by talking to her son loudly

"Yes, Brahms, you're in good hands now!" Mr. Heelshire adds in

They soon walk to the car, their walk heavy in each step. The driver sat in the front avoids your gaze on purpose, as if guilt has overtaken him. The old couple turn back to you and engulf you and Brahms in a long embrace.

Their hands grip onto you, yearning for something, you don't know. They release you two and give a sad smile

You smiled back to reassure them

"Don't worry, Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire, I promise to make sure Brahms is loved and cared for while you're gone."

They look at each other before looking back at you with a reassuring nod before entering the vehicle. As the engine roars, the car soon moves to the exit and by then you hear the couple

"We love you, Brahms!"

Your heart clench at how sad the situation felt, the elderly couple must have suffered so much to be so sad to leave their son. Better yet, their "doll" of a son from something you never brought up with the couple. So with little effort, you raised Brahms' hand and waved it at the couple. A slight shock was on their face as they saw you did it, but was soon met with a heartened smile.

Weird. You thought.

Why were they looking at the second floor when they shouted?

[kkuzushi]

જ Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby. . .ᐟ

˚𖦹 ‘ Chapter 3 : Can I please throw coffee at his face? ִ ࣪𖤐

— PREV | MASTERLIST | NEXT

As expected, Aether went straight to the campus after getting your implication of Lumine paying for yet another meal. The two of you are like leeches to Lumine—she even thinks you may be her long lost twin with how in sync you can be with Aether sometimes.

“So you actually saw him?” Aether asked as the three of you started getting out of the premises.

You crossed your arms and nodded, “Yeah, and he still looks shitty.”

“Affectionately?”

“Don’t start, Lumine.” You hissed.

The twins laughed at you, and you fought so hard not to smack their heads.

“I doubt the guy would even do anything,” Lumine says. If you squint your eyes, you might notice her attempt at comforting you. “He’s pretty popular, I bet he’d just get jumped by his fans left and right.”

You grinned at that. “You’re right, I hope he gets expelled for disturbing the peace,” You commented bitterly.

“This guy’s evil,” Aether butted in, grinning back at your comment. “But maybe, JUST maybe. He wants to study here?”

“It kinda makes sense since his friends are still around.” Lumine nods.

“I guess.. I just hope he’ll stay away from me.” You sighed. Maybe your friends were right, maybe this isn’t that much worth fussing about. You’re in college now YN, get a grip. Just because you see your ex wandering campus doesn’t mean he wants you back.

Finally, the three of you arrived at the cafe near the campus. It’s like a morning ritual for the three of you to buy there—and have Lumine pay—maybe the day isn’t so bad. So what if Scaramouche is where you’re basically living in? That wouldn’t stop you from living your life like how you’re doing now.

Or maybe your mind spoke too, because the moment Aether opened the door for you and Lumine, you’re met with a familiar indigo haired man.

You froze in your tracks yet again and Lumine noticed it just as quickly. You were tempted to just turn around and leave once again but Aether stopped you, gently holding your wrist.

“We’re here for the coffee, nothing else.” Aether reassured you.

“Right. Coffee.”

“I’ll order, you two stay here,” Lumine says, getting in line.

You and Aether sat down somewhere near the exit. You let your gaze fall anywhere, anywhere but Scaramouche. Despite those attempts, you can feel someone glancing towards your direction.

Is it Scaramouche? Hell yeah it is, who else would it be? You tried not to let it get to you, but the temptation was getting the best of your thoughts.

Just one. You’ll spare him one look, it’s not like it’ll hurt anyone, right?

You may be right, as the moment your eyes are locked with his, it didn’t take a second to realize he was smirking too. How embarrassing, he probably knew you’d look his way.

Your eyebrows furrowed and you abruptly stood up, startling Aether. You quickly left the cafe before the twins could even stop you, which of course they didn’t bother to do.

You went back on campus alone, not wanting to deal with that prick any longer.

— ꒰꒰﹒TAGLIST : @raineyun @hayamie @sketcheeee @wraithisd3adinside @heusalettle @liuaneee @yevurin @mywillt0live @kaikaidenkai

— ꒰꒰﹒OPEN. [ 9/50 ]

— ꒰꒰﹒I changed a few things like using dark mode because my eyes really couldn’t take the white background, as well as Xiao’s typing quirks.

© kkuzushi | Please do not translate, repost, or plagiarize my work. This AU is posted in Tumblr only unless stated otherwise by yours truly.