#so many possibilities of who he could be talking about...

[goldfades]

who else decodes you? / who's gonna know you, if not me? / and who's gonna hold you like me? / no-fucking-body / so tell me, who else is gonna know me? | joe burrow⁹ (part one)

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⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 7.5k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you and joe had been inseparable since LSU, with him promising you everything—a dream home and a life together. everything felt perfect during your golden days, but as time passed, things shifted, and the cracks began to show in your once-perfect relationship

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | angst... just straight up angst. asshole-y joe, lots of fighting, reader being a trophy wife, just real sad things im sorry i wrote this yall. NO happy ending in this part, part 2 will have a happy ending dw guys!!!

You met Joe Burrow before the world did.

Before the Heisman, before the draft, before his name carried weight outside of Athens, Ohio. Before the sleek suits, the Cartier glasses, the endless debates about whether he was the next great quarterback of his generation. Before all of that, he was just Joe. Your Joe.

The one who texted you goodnight from his twin bed in his childhood home, the one who took you to McDonald’s after late-night practices because that’s all he could afford. The one who kissed you in the front seat of his beat-up truck, hands a little rough from lifting weights but gentle when they held your face.

You were there for it all.

Through the transfer to LSU, when he was just a backup with something to prove. Through the championship season, where he turned into a legend overnight. Through the draft, when you held his hand so tightly your knuckles turned white, waiting for the moment his name would be called. Through the move to Cincinnati, where you learned the ins and outs of being an NFL girlfriend—then an NFL wife in everything but title.

You never needed the ring to prove your place beside him. Not at first.

Because when you love someone for that long, when you’ve been there since day one, you assume you’ll be there forever. You assume that one day, when the time is right, you’ll walk down the aisle and he’ll be standing at the end of it. That the same boy who once promised you the world in a whisper under Louisiana stars would eventually make good on it.

But love isn’t always enough.

And timing? Timing has a cruel way of making a fool out of you.

Before the waiting, before the uncertainty—there was LSU.

The golden days.

The kind of love people wrote songs about, the kind that burned so bright it felt untouchable, invincible. You and Joe had been through the trenches of college life together—cheap dates, sleepless nights, long drives in his old truck where he talked about the future like it was already written in the stars.

Joe had always been a planner. He didn’t just dream—he mapped things out, broke them down into plays, like a game he knew he would win. And in every version of the future he spoke about, you were in it.

“I’m gonna make it,” he told you one night, lying in the back of his truck, staring at the Baton Rouge sky like it held all his answers. The air was thick with humidity, cicadas singing in the distance, but neither of you cared. You were twenty, wildly in love, and the world hadn’t touched you yet. “I don’t care how long it takes, or how many people doubt me—I’m making it to the league.”

You smiled, running a hand through his hair. “I never doubted that.”

Joe turned then, propped himself up on an elbow, his sharp, determined eyes softening as he looked at you. “And when I do, I’m gonna give you everything.”

It wasn’t just a promise. It was a declaration.

Not just any ring—a rock. One that would catch the light from across the room, the kind that would make strangers do a double take. Not just any house—your dream home, the one you’d always wanted but never thought possible.

You had told him, once, in passing, the kind of house you loved. You were scrolling on your phone, lying with your feet in his lap, showing him a picture of a home that looked straight out of a magazine.

“That,” you had said, tapping the screen. “That’s the dream.”

White exterior, big windows—floor-to-ceiling in the living room, so the sunlight would pour in every morning. A wrap-around porch, because you always loved the idea of sitting outside with a glass of wine on summer nights. A kitchen with the biggest island imaginable, because you loved to cook, even if Joe barely trusted himself to make toast. A cozy sunroom, filled with mismatched chairs and overflowing bookshelves. A clawfoot bathtub in the master bath, where you could soak for hours after a long day.

Joe had barely glanced at the picture before he said, “Done.”

You laughed. “Joe, that house is like… five million dollars.”

“So?” He had smirked, cocky and confident in that way only he could pull off. “Give me a couple years.”

You shook your head, amused, but deep down, you believed him. You believed him because when Joe Burrow set his mind to something, it happened.

And when you asked, jokingly, what kind of dog he wanted, he just scoffed.

“Dogs? No. We’re gonna have like, eight cats.”

You snorted. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He stretched out, hands behind his head, already painting the picture in his mind. “They’ll have dumb names, too. Like, I don’t know… Fettuccine. Or Tuxedo. Or—oh—Larry.”

“Larry?”

“Yeah. Larry’s gonna be the ringleader.”

You shook your head, laughing so hard you had to wipe tears from your eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

Joe just grinned, pulling you in, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You love me.”

And you did. God, you did.

You loved him through the highs—the Heisman win, the national championship, the night he got drafted when you held his face in your hands and told him this is it, baby. This is everything you worked for.

You loved him through the lows—when he tore his ACL his rookie year and sat in silence for hours, devastated, gripping your hand so tight it went numb. When the pressure of the league weighed heavy on him and he retreated inward, needing space, needing you to be his anchor without him ever having to say it.

You loved him because he was Joe.

Because he was the boy who once whispered about forever under Louisiana stars, who promised you a rock, a dream house, and eight cats named Larry and Fettuccine.

Because you believed, back then, that promises were made to be kept.

--

It started small.

A casual comment, barely even a question, when you were knee-deep in cardboard boxes in your new Cincinnati apartment. You’d been together for years by then, had already lived together in Baton Rouge, but this—this felt different. More permanent. He was the face of a franchise now, the golden boy of an entire city. And you? You were the woman who had been by his side through it all.

So when you held up a framed photo—one of the two of you from his LSU days, his arm wrapped around you, both of you grinning like you had the whole world ahead of you—you said it without thinking.

“Guess we’ll need some wedding pictures to put up soon, huh?”

It was light, teasing, the same way you’d joked about it a hundred times before. But this time, Joe didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smile.

He just exhaled through his nose, set down the box he was carrying, and ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m still adjusting to all this,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the apartment, the city, the new life he was stepping into. “Let’s just… settle in first.”

You told yourself it made sense.

Joe had always been slow to process change. He liked routine, predictability. He had just gone from college quarterback to the number-one draft pick, from playing in front of thousands to playing in front of millions. If he needed time, you’d give it to him.

And so you did.

You poured yourself into the role of supportive girlfriend, the unwavering presence behind the scenes. You went to every game, wore his jersey, kept your social media lowkey even when the WAGs of the league started reaching out. You made sure home felt like a safe haven for him—a place where he wasn’t Joe Burrow, NFL quarterback, but just Joe.

Months passed. Then a year. Then two.

And still, nothing.

You tried to be patient. You tried not to compare. But it was impossible not to notice when guys who had been in the league half as long as Joe were proposing to their girlfriends. When you went to team events and saw wives flashing diamond rings, their hands resting on their husbands’ arms like they belonged there. When your own friends started getting married, settling down, building the life you always thought you and Joe were working toward.

You weren’t the kind of girl who begged for a ring. That wasn’t you. That wasn’t why you loved him. But you also weren’t stupid.

So, one night, after a Bengals win, when it was just the two of you curled up on the couch—Joe half-asleep, his head resting on your thigh—you ran your fingers through his hair and asked,

“Do you ever think about it?”

His eyes cracked open slightly. “Think about what?”

“Marriage.”

The word hung in the air between you, heavy in a way that made your stomach tighten.

Joe didn’t sit up, didn’t tense. But he also didn’t answer right away. He just stared at the ceiling, his fingers drumming lightly against your leg.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “I think about it.”

That was it. No elaboration. No follow-up.

And maybe it was the years of knowing him, of reading between the lines of what he didn’t say, but something about his tone sent a cold prickle down your spine.

You swallowed. “And?”

Joe sighed, shifting so he was looking up at you fully. His face was tired, drawn, the way it always was after a game.

“I love you,” he said first, because Joe always led with love, even when he was about to disappoint you. “I just don’t know if I’m… ready for all that.”

All that. Like marriage was some heavy, unbearable thing. Like it was a burden, instead of the only thing you’d ever wanted with him.

But you didn’t push. You never pushed.

You just nodded, kissed his forehead, and told yourself that he just needed more time.

You’d already given him years. What was a little longer?

For every golden memory, there was a night that ended with you crying into your pillow, your chest aching from the weight of words left unheard.

And Joe was never the type to yell.

That was the problem.

You could scream, slam cabinets, cry until your eyes were swollen, beg him to just say something—but Joe would sit there, jaw clenched, eyes locked on some invisible point in the distance. Silent. Stone-faced. Like he was waiting for a storm to pass rather than standing in the middle of it with you.

And when he was done listening, when he decided he had nothing to say, he’d just walk away.

No slammed doors. No cruel words. Just an exhale through his nose and the slow, deliberate sound of his footsteps leaving the room.

Then came the silence.

Hours, sometimes days, where he wouldn’t touch you, wouldn’t look at you, wouldn’t acknowledge the way you curled up on your side of the bed, arms wrapped around yourself because if he wouldn’t hold you, you had to do it yourself.

It always started the same way.

Joe had never been a selfish person—at least, not intentionally. He loved you, worshipped you in his own quiet way. But he was also a man who had spent his entire life being taken care of.

First by his parents. Then by his coaches. Then by you.

At first, it hadn’t bothered you. You wanted to take care of him, because loving Joe Burrow meant making sure he ate real meals instead of surviving off protein shakes and granola bars. It meant picking up after him when he left his clothes on the floor, washing his jerseys so they always smelled like fresh detergent instead of sweat, keeping your home together while he threw every ounce of himself into football.

But over time, something shifted.

The gestures that had once been acts of love started to feel expected. You would spend hours cooking his favorite meal, only for him to eat in front of the TV without so much as a thank you. You’d clean up after him like clockwork, while he’d scroll through his phone, oblivious to the way you were moving around him like a ghost. You handled the small things—the groceries, the laundry, the appointments—so he never had to think about them. And the worst part? He didn’t think about them.

He didn’t think about how exhausting it was to pour so much of yourself into another person and get nothing in return.

One night, after a long day where you’d cooked, cleaned, and ran errands while Joe came home from practice, showered, and immediately planted himself on the couch, something in you snapped.

You had been standing in the kitchen, scrubbing dishes, while Joe sat in the living room, watching game film, oblivious to the way your hands were trembling from frustration.

“Joe,” you called, trying to keep your voice steady.

He hummed, eyes still on the screen.

You turned off the faucet, wiping your hands on a dish towel. “Do you even see me anymore?”

That got his attention. His head lifted slightly, brows furrowing. “What?”

“Do you see me?” you repeated, voice shaking now. “Or am I just here? Like some… unpaid assistant who cooks your meals and cleans your shit and waits around for you to remember I exist?”

Joe blinked, clearly caught off guard. “What are you talking about?”

You laughed, but there was no humor in it. Just exhaustion. Frustration. A bubbling anger that had been simmering for months. “I do everything for you. And I never ask for anything in return. But you don’t even appreciate it, Joe. You don’t see it. You don’t see me.”

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Jesus, babe. I—look, I didn’t ask you to do all that.”

Your heart sank.

There it was. The knife, twisted so deep you almost doubled over from the pain of it.

You swallowed, eyes stinging. “You shouldn’t have to ask for basic effort.”

Joe exhaled sharply, pushing himself up from the couch. “I don’t have the energy for this right now.”

And then, just like always, he walked away.

The silence stretched for days.

No matter how loud you got, how many tears you shed, it never mattered.

Because Joe didn’t scream.

Joe shut down.

--

The restaurant was dimly lit, the kind of place where the wine was poured before you even asked and the waiters moved so seamlessly you barely noticed them. It was a Bengals event—one of those exclusive, high-end dinners meant to bring players and their partners together, a little PR, a little networking, all wrapped in the illusion of luxury. Normally, you didn’t mind them.

But tonight? Tonight, Joe was off.

He had been for weeks. Ever since the injury, ever since he had to watch his team play without him, it was like the weight of the world had settled on his shoulders and refused to budge. You had tried, God, you had tried—to comfort him, to give him space, to be exactly what he needed. But no matter what you did, it felt wrong.

He barely talked. Barely looked at you. And when he did, there was something in his eyes you couldn’t place.

Resentment?

Disappointment?

You didn’t know.

So you sat at the table, plastering on a smile, sipping your wine, pretending everything was fine as the conversation buzzed around you. Ja’Marr and his girlfriend, a few of the other guys, their partners. The usual crowd.

The joke started innocent enough.

“You’re literally the dream NFL WAG,” Ja’Marr’s girlfriend said, laughing as she leaned over toward you. “Like, you do everything for him. Cook, clean, go to every game. You’re basically the gold standard.”

The table chuckled.

You laughed, too, but there was something hollow about it. It wasn’t that the statement was wrong. It was just that… for the past few months, being Joe’s girlfriend hadn’t felt like a dream. It had felt like an uphill battle, like loving him was a test you were always on the verge of failing.

But before you could say anything, Joe scoffed.

Loudly.

The kind of sound that cut through the easy, playful atmosphere and made everyone shift in their seats.

You turned to him, confused, but Joe wasn’t looking at you. His jaw was clenched, his grip tight around the base of his glass.

“You think I don’t know that?” His voice was low, sharp, edged with something you couldn’t name.

The table went quiet.

Your stomach sank.

“Joe,” you said softly, placing a hand on his arm, but he pulled away, shaking his head.

���I need air.”

And just like that, he was on his feet, pushing back his chair, striding toward the exit without another word.

You barely hesitated before following.

The moment you stepped outside, the cold air hit you like a slap. The parking lot was mostly empty, save for a few blacked-out SUVs and a couple of lingering staff members. Joe was already a few steps ahead, his hands on his hips, breathing hard like he was trying to keep himself together.

You didn’t care. You weren’t going to let this go.

“What the hell was that?” you demanded, heels clicking against the pavement as you caught up to him.

Joe exhaled sharply, tilting his head back toward the sky. “I don’t wanna do this right now.”

“No. No.” You grabbed his arm, forcing him to look at you. “You don’t get to humiliate me in front of everyone and then walk away like nothing happened.”

Joe turned then, eyes flashing with something you had never seen before. Rage.

“You think I don’t know?” His voice was louder now, cutting through the night air, his face twisted in frustration. “You think I don’t fucking see the way you take care of everything? How perfect you are? How much you do for me?”

Your breath hitched. This wasn’t the first time you’d fought, not even close. But this was different.

This was Joe shouting.

He never shouted.

“You think I don’t know how much you’ve sacrificed? How much you’ve had to deal with while I sit on the fucking sidelines, watching my team play without me?” His hands were in his hair now, voice cracking under the weight of it all. “You think I don’t feel like a goddamn failure every second of every day? That I don’t fucking hate myself for it?”

Your chest tightened. “Joe—”

“I get it, okay?” His voice was hoarse, his breathing heavy. “I get it. I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve any of this.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating.

Then, finally, you swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I never said that.”

Joe looked at you then, really looked at you. And for the first time in weeks, maybe months, you saw it.

The exhaustion. The fear. The guilt.

And underneath it all, something else. Something raw and painful and impossible to ignore.

“I can’t do this,” he said suddenly, shaking his head, stepping back. “Not tonight.”

Your stomach dropped. “Joe.”

But he was already turning away.

Already leaving.

And for the first time, you didn’t go after him.

Time, though, has a funny way of making fools out of people.

Because a little longer turned into another year. And another.

And soon, you weren’t just the girlfriend who had been with Joe since before the fame. You were the girlfriend who was still waiting. The one people whispered about at games, in comment sections, in DMs you tried not to read.

Why hasn’t he proposed yet? If he wanted to marry her, he would’ve by now. She’s been with him forever. That’s kinda embarrassing.

You weren’t stupid. You heard the whispers. You ignored them, brushed them off, laughed about them with Joe like they didn’t sting.

But deep down, they did.

And then, one night, you cracked.

It wasn’t planned. You weren’t trying to pick a fight. You were just lying in bed beside Joe, scrolling mindlessly on your phone, when an engagement post popped up on your feed. Another NFL couple. Another ring. Another reminder.

You set your phone down. Turned toward Joe, who was staring at the ceiling like he always did when he couldn’t sleep.

“Joe,” you said softly.

He hummed in response, eyes still fixed upward.

“Are you ever going to marry me?”

The words weren’t sharp. They weren’t bitter. Just quiet. Tired.

Joe closed his eyes. Let out a slow breath. And in that moment, you already knew the answer.

Not yet. Not now. I need more time.

The same thing he’d been saying for years.

But this time, you weren’t sure you could keep waiting.

--

It didn’t happen in one moment. It wasn’t a clean break, a single conversation where you both sat down, acknowledged the inevitable, and walked away like two people who had outgrown each other.

No, it was ugly. It was heartbreaking. It was loud.

It started in the living room, the place that had once been your sanctuary. The place where you curled up on the couch together after long days, where you laid your head on his lap while he absentmindedly played with your hair, where he kissed you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

But tonight, it was a battleground.

You stood near the coffee table, arms wrapped around yourself like you were trying to keep from falling apart, while Joe paced in front of the fireplace, his hands tangled in his hair. His face was flushed, his breathing uneven, his entire body radiating frustration. But under it—under the anger, the exhaustion—was something else.

Defeat.

“We can’t keep doing this,” Joe muttered, voice low but strained, like it physically hurt him to say it out loud.

Your stomach twisted. “Doing what?”

“This!” He gestured between the two of you, his voice louder now, raw with emotion. “The fighting, the tension, the constant feeling that no matter what I do, I’m letting you down.”

You flinched, because that wasn’t fair.

He wasn’t letting you down—he was shutting you out. Pushing you away, piece by piece, until you barely recognized the man standing in front of you.

And yet, despite it all, you still wanted to fight.

You needed to fight.

“Joe, you haven’t even tried—”

His laugh was hollow, sharp. “Tried? Are you kidding me?” He shook his head, running a frustrated hand down his face. “I have been trying for months. Trying to be what you need, trying to hold this shit together while I feel like I’m losing everything.”

Your throat tightened. “I never asked you to hold it together alone.”

He looked at you then, and the pain in his eyes nearly brought you to your knees.

“I know.” His voice cracked. “And that’s the worst fucking part.”

You felt like you couldn’t breathe.

Because suddenly, you saw it—the breaking point. The moment where all the fights, all the silences, all the nights spent lying in the same bed but feeling miles apart had led to.

This was it.

You swallowed, hard. “Joe… don’t do this.”

His jaw clenched. “I don’t know how to be what you need anymore.”

“I don’t need you to be anything—I just need you to try,” you choked out, hot tears spilling over your cheeks.

“I am trying!” His voice cracked, his hands gripping his hair like he was barely holding himself together. “But I’m not enough for you! And I don’t think I ever will be!”

The words hit like a physical blow.

Your breath hitched, and for a second, everything blurred—your vision, your thoughts, reality itself. Because how could he say that? How could he look at you, after everything, and think he wasn’t enough?

He had always been enough.

He had been everything.

Your chest heaved, your heart splintering, but you forced yourself to take a step forward, reaching for him like you had so many times before.

But this time, Joe stepped back.

Like touching you would break him completely.

Like it already had.

A sob ripped through your throat. “Joe, please—”

His eyes were glassy now, his own tears threatening to fall. But his face was set, his hands shaking at his sides.

“This isn’t working anymore.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through you like a blade.

And just like that, the world tilted.

You had imagined a lot of worst-case scenarios over the past few months—imagined nights where he would sleep on the couch, imagined him needing time apart, even imagined him telling you he wasn’t ready for marriage yet.

But this?

This was never supposed to happen.

He was supposed to fight.

He was supposed to love you enough to stay.

But instead, Joe exhaled shakily, like this was killing him too, and took another step back.

Like he had already made his decision.

Like he was already gone.

And then, through the unbearable tightness in your throat, through the tears blurring your vision, you said the only thing you could.

“What about everything you promised me?”

His face broke. Just for a second.

And then, softer than you’d ever heard him, he whispered, “I meant every word.”

And still, he turned away. Still, he walked to the door, grabbed his keys, and hesitated for only a second before pulling it open.

And you stood there, frozen in time, watching as the love of your life—the boy who once promised you forever under Louisiana stars—walked out of your life like he had never meant to stay.

The door clicked shut.

The silence that followed was deafening.

It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

Your legs gave out before you even realized you were falling. You collapsed onto the couch, hands clutching your chest as if that would somehow stop the pain, as if pressing hard enough could keep your heart from shattering.

But it did.

Piece by piece. And Joe?

Joe was gone.

--

Joe wasn’t sure when it started.

The feeling had been creeping up on him for months—slow at first, like a whisper in the back of his mind, something he could ignore if he kept moving, if he kept winning.

But then he got hurt.

And suddenly, there was nowhere to run.

No game to prepare for, no film to study, no Sunday nights under the lights where he could lose himself in the only thing that had ever made him feel like enough.

He had always known you were out of his league. Everyone did.

You were a force—bright and untouchable, the kind of woman who could walk into a room and have everyone wrapped around your finger without even trying. You were loved in ways Joe had never been. Not because of what you did, not because of your talent or your career, but just because of who you were.

And Joe?

Joe was… Joe.

He had worked for everything. Clawed his way to the top, gritted his teeth through every setback, played with a chip on his shoulder so sharp it could cut. He had spent his entire life proving people wrong, showing them he was worth it, and still, sometimes it felt like it wasn’t enough.

But not with you. At least, not at first.

At first, you had looked at him like he was someone special—not because of football, not because he was Joe Burrow, but because he was yours. And for a while, that had been enough.

But then the marriage thing came up.

Then the quiet expectation that he was supposed to take the next step, that he was supposed to be ready.

And fuck, he wanted to be.

He wanted to put a ring on your finger, wanted to build a life with you, wanted to buy you the house you dreamed about and fill it with all the stupid cats he promised you back at LSU.

But the more you pushed, the more it felt like he was already failing.

You deserved the world, and he—he wasn’t sure he knew how to give it to you. You had grown up with love. Joe had grown up with pressure.

Your family adored you, your friends would kill for you, strangers on the internet called you an angel, and the worst part? They were right.

You were perfect. You were kind, and patient, and you gave so much of yourself without ever asking for anything in return—until, eventually, you did.

Until you started looking at him like you needed something more.

And maybe that’s when it started.

The resentment. The guilt.

The way he began shutting down because every time he looked at you, he saw someone who had given him everything, and all he could do was hold it in his hands and wonder when he was going to drop it.

So he pulled away.

And then he got injured. And then it got worse.

Because for the first time in his life, Joe had nothing to offer.

Football was gone. He was stuck on the sidelines, watching his teammates play without him, watching the world move forward while he stood still. And every time he came home, there you were—beautiful and untouchable and looking at him with so much love, and God, it made him want to rip his fucking hair out.

Because you weren’t supposed to love him like that.

Not when he was like this. Not when he felt like nothing.

And so, he made himself nothing to you.

He let the silence stretch between you, let the fights spiral into something he couldn’t control, let the guilt eat him alive until the only option left was to let you go.

Not because he wanted to. Not because he didn’t love you.

But because he loved you too much to keep being a disappointment.

Because you were everything. And he was just him.

--

Joe barely remembered the drive to Ja’Marr’s house.

The roads were dark and wet from rain, the city quiet in the way it only got after midnight, and yet everything inside him was loud. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, his hands gripped the wheel so tight his knuckles were white, and his breath came in short, uneven bursts, like his body was still trying to catch up to what had just happened.

He had left.

He had actually left.

The second Ja’Marr opened the door, his easygoing expression dropped. “Shit.”

Joe must have looked as bad as he felt.

Ja’Marr didn’t ask questions, didn’t crack a joke or act like this was nothing. He just stepped aside, letting Joe in without a word.

Joe walked past him, straight to the couch, sinking down like his body couldn’t hold him up anymore. His hands were still shaking. He stared at them, trying to steady his breath, but the more he tried to push it down, the worse it got.

He felt like he was imploding.

Ja’Marr sat across from him, elbows on his knees. “You good?”

Joe huffed out something that was supposed to be a laugh but came out broken.

“No,” he admitted.

And then, just like that, the weight of it all came crashing down.

He broke.

For the first time in years, maybe ever, Joe let himself feel it.

His shoulders caved, his head fell into his hands, and before he could stop himself, a sob tore through his chest. It wasn’t quiet, wasn’t controlled—it was raw, guttural, the kind of grief that sat heavy in his ribcage and made him feel like he was drowning.

Ja’Marr swore under his breath, rubbing a hand over his face. “Damn, man.”

Joe couldn’t respond. He could barely breathe.

Because he had spent so long trying to convince himself this was the right thing—that letting you go was necessary, that it was better for you, that one day you’d understand—but now, sitting on his best friend’s couch, in a house that wasn’t his, without you, it hit him.

You weren’t in the next room.

You weren’t waiting for him to come back.

You weren’t his anymore.

And for the first time since he met you, since you were just a girl in his corner, since he was just a college quarterback with a dream—he was alone.

—

The house was silent.

The kind of silence that wasn’t peaceful, but hollow.

You stood in the middle of the living room, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, staring at the front door as if it would swing open at any second, as if Joe would walk back in, apologize, say he didn’t mean it.

But the house stayed empty.

You should’ve done something—gone to bed, taken a shower, moved—but you couldn’t.

Your body felt detached, like you were floating just outside of yourself, watching as the reality of what had happened settled into your bones.

He was gone.

You sucked in a shaky breath, your eyes darting around the room, landing on all the pieces of him he had left behind. His hoodie draped over the back of the couch. His sneakers kicked off near the door. The blanket you always fought over, still crumpled where he had last used it.

Your throat tightened.

It felt wrong.

How was it possible that someone could just leave, and yet everything still looked the same? How was it possible that the world hadn’t just stopped?

Your body moved before your mind could catch up.

You grabbed his hoodie, pulling it into your chest, clutching it so tightly your fingers ached. It still smelled like him—like his cologne, like home, like everything you were supposed to have forever.

A sharp, broken sob tore through you.

Your legs gave out.

You sank onto the floor, your body curling in on itself, gasping for air between sobs that didn’t seem to end.

You had imagined a million worst-case scenarios for your relationship, but you had never imagined this.

A fight, maybe. A bad one.

A few nights apart, maybe even a week.

But not this.

Not a house that suddenly felt too big, too cold, too wrong without him in it.

Not a silence that felt like it would swallow you whole.

Not an ending that you weren’t ready for.

Not Joe—your Joe—leaving, and not coming back.

Joe didn’t tell his parents right away.

He had gone weeks pretending it wasn’t real, pushing it down, acting like if he ignored it long enough, it wouldn’t hurt. Like the breakup was just another fight, another rough patch, and any second now, you’d come home.

But then spring rolled around, and he found himself back in Athens for a few days, sitting at his parents’ kitchen table, pushing food around his plate while his mom chatted about some wedding she had gone to.

He barely heard her—until she said your name.

“I just know she’ll look so beautiful at her own wedding one day,” Robin said, smiling like the thought made her happy. “Did she ever decide on a dress style? I remember she showed me a few options the last time we talked.”

Joe’s fork clattered against the plate.

His parents looked up.

The room suddenly felt too small. The walls too close. The weight in his chest unbearable.

“She’s not picking a dress,” he said flatly.

His mom’s smile faltered. “What do you mean?”

Joe exhaled sharply, staring at the table. His throat felt tight, his hands fisting in his lap. “We broke up.”

Silence.

Not the kind he was used to. Not the easy kind.

His dad was the first to speak. “When?”

“A while ago.” His voice was hoarse, his jaw tight.

Robin looked like he had just slapped her across the face. “Joe… what?”

She sounded hurt.

Like he had broken her heart, too.

“You didn’t tell us?”

Joe swallowed. “I didn’t know how.”

His mom was still frozen in shock. “But—why? What happened?”

Joe should have had an answer. He should have been able to give them some logical, concrete reason why the only real love he had ever known had just… ended.

But there wasn’t one. Not really.

So he just shook his head. “I wasn’t enough for her.”

His dad exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. “Joe—”

Robin’s eyes filled with tears, and that—that was what finally did it. That was the moment it hit him, the moment the denial shattered and left nothing but cold, brutal truth in its place.

You were gone.

Not just for a few days.

Not just waiting for him to fix it.

You were gone.

Joe scraped his chair back so suddenly it screeched against the floor.

“I gotta go,” he muttered, standing up, hands shaking.

“Joe—”

“I just—I gotta go.”

And then he was out the door, out of the house, into his car, gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.

His vision blurred. His chest caved in.

He sucked in a sharp breath, trying to hold it together.

It didn’t work.

That was the moment Joe decided he needed a distraction.

A new game plan. A new something—because if he let himself sit in this pain, if he let himself really feel it, it might consume him completely.

So he did the only thing he knew how to do.

He threw himself into excess.

He spent money like it was nothing, like it was oxygen, like keeping the spending going would somehow fill the empty space inside of him. New cars, new watches, expensive nights out where the bill was triple what it needed to be. If someone wanted a round of shots? Joe was covering it. If his guys wanted to go to Miami for the weekend? No problem.

And the women.

That was the easiest distraction of all.

They were everywhere—at the clubs, at the restaurants, at the parties where he never used to go but suddenly needed to be. They touched him like they wanted him, smiled at him like he was the most important man in the room. And for a few hours at a time, he let them.

He let them run their hands over his chest, let them whisper in his ear, let them follow him back to hotel rooms or his new penthouse in the city.

He let them treat him like he was whole.

But then morning would come, and the illusion would shatter.

Every single time, he’d wake up next to someone who wasn’t you.

Someone whose perfume didn’t smell like yours. Someone whose touch didn’t feel like home. Someone who would roll over, press lazy kisses to his skin, and call him baby in a way that made his stomach twist.

Because you used to call him that.

And now you never would again.

It was supposed to feel good. It was supposed to be freeing, making up for lost time, for all the years he had spent as the devoted boyfriend, the one-woman man, the guy who turned down numbers and shut down flirting because he only wanted you.

But none of it worked.

None of it made him feel better.

Because at the end of the day, he was still Joe.

And you were still gone.

It took one of his teammates pulling him aside one night to finally say what he couldn’t.

“Bro,” Sam said, hand on Joe’s shoulder. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Joe blinked, pulling his attention away from whatever girl had been whispering in his ear at the bar. “What?”

Sam gave him a look. “You’re not this guy.”

Joe let out a sharp laugh. “I’m fine.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Are you?”

Joe didn’t answer.

Because he wasn’t.

Not even close.

But he wasn’t ready to admit that yet.

So he just exhaled, forced a smirk, and lifted his drink. “Don’t worry about me, man.”

But Sam was worried.

And deep down, Joe knew why.

Because no matter how many nights he spent surrounded by people, no matter how much money he threw at the problem, no matter how many women climbed into his bed—

The only thing he ever felt anymore was hollow.

--

The day you packed your bags and left Cincinnati, you didn’t cry.

You had done enough of that.

Your best friend had offered—begged, really—for you to come stay with her in Columbus, and after weeks of waking up in a house that no longer felt like a home, you finally said yes.

It wasn’t running away.

It was survival.

Joe had been your world for so long that, without him, you weren’t sure where to stand. Your entire adult life had revolved around him—his schedule, his dreams, his highs, his lows. You had built a life inside of his. And now, that life was gone.

So, for the first time in years, you weren’t trying to be somebody’s something. You weren’t trying to be the perfect girlfriend, the supportive WAG, the woman who held it all together.

You were just trying to be you.

Whoever that was.

—

Columbus was different.

It wasn’t Cincinnati, where every street corner reminded you of Joe. Where the grocery store held memories of early-morning runs before his games. Where your favorite restaurant was the place he took you after he signed his first big contract. Where you couldn’t go anywhere without seeing a billboard with his face plastered on it, a cruel reminder that he was still Joe Burrow, still untouchable, still larger than life—just not yours anymore.

Columbus was quiet. A fresh start.

Your best friend had a cozy apartment near downtown, and the first night you arrived, she didn’t ask questions. She didn’t push. She just ordered takeout, opened a bottle of wine, and let you sit in silence.

That first week, you didn’t do much.

You slept too much, or not at all. Some nights, you laid awake staring at the ceiling, wondering if Joe was doing the same. Other nights, exhaustion won, and you crashed so hard you barely dreamed.

The dreams were the worst.

Because in them, he was still yours.

You still woke up to the sound of him moving around in the kitchen, still felt the weight of his arm draped over your waist, still heard his voice murmuring morning, baby in that slow, sleep-rough tone he always had.

But then morning would come, and none of it was real.

So, you started over.

You got a cat.

It wasn’t planned—you had just gone to the shelter one afternoon, thinking you’d look, thinking maybe it would distract you for a few minutes. But then you saw her.

Small. A little scrappy. White with a black spot over her eye, looking at you like she had already decided you belonged to her.

The name came easily.

“Larry,” you told the adoption worker, lips twitching into something like a smile. “Her name is Larry.”

Joe would’ve laughed at that.

Joe would’ve—

No.

This wasn’t about Joe.

Larry was yours.

So you took her home, bought her the stupidest, most ridiculous toys you could find, and let her curl up on your chest at night, purring so loudly it drowned out the silence.

You learned how to French braid.

You had never bothered before—your hair had always been something he liked, something he ran his fingers through when he was half-asleep on the couch. But now? Now, you spent hours watching tutorials, standing in front of the mirror, fingers twisting and looping until, finally, you got it right.

It was small, stupid even. But it was something just for you.

You started reading.

At first, it was just a way to pass the time—something to do instead of scrolling through Instagram, instead of wondering what he was doing. But then you fell into it, deep. You found yourself curled up on the couch for hours, lost in stories, letting yourself escape into other people’s lives.

Romance novels were hard at first. Because love still felt like a wound, like something sharp and raw and too close to home.

But one day, months after the breakup, you found yourself reading a love story and not feeling like your chest was caving in.

That was progress.

You cooked for yourself.

You had always cooked for Joe—his favorites, his comfort foods, the meals he requested after long practices. But now, you cooked what you wanted. You tried new recipes, bought ingredients you had never used before, made dishes with no one else’s preferences in mind.

It was weird, at first.

But then, one night, you sat at the table, eating something just for you, and it didn’t feel lonely.

It felt… peaceful.

You went on long walks, alone, with no one to check in with. You bought flowers for yourself. You started journaling, writing down things you had never let yourself think too hard about.

You let yourself exist.

And one day—on a random, unremarkable afternoon—you realized something. It had been weeks since you last thought of him.

Not that he was gone.

Not that it didn’t still hurt, sometimes, in quiet moments when you weren’t expecting it.

But for the first time, in a long, long time—

You felt like you. Without him.

[thedanishcatgirl]

The idea that their timid, little, shy, book loving, wizard had a wife was weird enough, but that wasn't the most surprising part. No, that was the fact, that the massive woman stepping through the selfmade entrance, whom presumably must be the aforementioned wife, was a tall fearsome looking fey. Her antlers where sharp, her body looked to be made of blackened branches covered in deadly looking thorns and her furious eyes glowed a fiery red like her hair.

Through the ringing in his ear the bard could faintly hear their wizard calling out to her wife.

"Careful darling we don't want the cage to fall down into the acid!"

The fay woman's only answer was a terrifying growl, but there was no more explosions. Not like that was needed anyway, since the floor was torn up, and massive thorny vines where rapidly growing out from the floor choking any still alive. She quickly walked over to them, took a hold of their cage, and swiftly yanked it free from the chain, then stomped out of the castle with their cage dangling from her hand. As they where carried away he saw the castle was quickly being overgrown with the vines, and he knew for certain that soon all that would be left was a crumbling ruin. This was gonna make one epic song.

Too terrified to speak he decided to shift his focus onto his party. Their wizard was looking concered up at her wife. Their sorcerer had passed out from either his injuries, or their terrifying rescurer. Their rouge was looking a bit too impressed, but then again, she was always addicted to danger. And their ever confident paladin, looked to be locked in a state of shock. He tried to get her to snap out of it, but she was completely unresponsive, so he tried his best to hum a little tune and heal their sorcerer. It wasn’t much, he was afterall not their main healer and not on his a game, but it was enough to get their sorcerer up. He was groggy and clearly still rough, but as soon as he noticed their surroundings, and who held their cage he panicked. Luckily he was out of spells, which rendered him pretty harmless, and a quick calm emotions stopped the worst of it.

"What is happening, where are we and who is THAT?!"

"Calm down she rescued us. Remember wizard said she messaged her wife to come save us? Well here she is I think she decided easiest way to get us all to a safer place was keeping us in the cage."

But their sorcerer just looked confused at him. Perhaps he hadn't fully registered the conversation before, which was certainly a possibility considering he was very hurt. That would mean he had no idea the woman who attacked the castle, and now held their cage was an ally, making this terrifying experience all the more scary. Worst of all their sorcerer was practically a teenager, and the easiest scared of their group, and this had been bad enough to leave their fearless paladin shocked. So he did what he had done so many nights and comforted their sorcerer.

"Shh it's all right we are safe she won't hurt us"

"It doesn't make sense, this isn't right, what are you talking about, wizard can't be married to an archfey, why would someone so powerful care about small insignificant mortals"

Archfey? Fuck he knew she was clearly powerful, but he hadn't realised just how much. But at soon as sorcerer said it, he knew it was true. Maybe paladin knew and at that was why she was so terrified. He didn't know much about archfey other than legends and songs, and those where always about how dangerous and fickle they where. How in all the hells did wizard get to call one her wife?

After a little bit they entered an ancient looking forest, and finally their wizard decided to speak.

"Sweetie, don't you think it's about time you put us down? We are in our forest now, nothing can hurt us here. We would all really love to get out of this stupid cage, and I definitely owe my friends some explanations. They can't really appreciate the beauty of our home like this, and I would hate their first impressions of it being bad."

Gently she sets the cage down, and shrinks to a still tall, but slightly more manageable, size.

"HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I WARNED YOU NOT TO GET OVER YOUR HEAD! You know I love you and support your little adventuring hobby, but you are so fragile, and I wish I could follow you, but my duties prevent that which means I can't protect you, and I hate that!"

Slowly their wizard limped over to her wife, seemingly not concerned at all about the thorns. Unfortunately that exposed just how badly injured she was, which her wife clearly only noticed now.

"HOW DARE THEY HURT YOU LIKE THAT! They did not deserve to die so mercifully!" It was followed by more curses in a language he didn't understand, but the intent was clear as day. The party was too preoccupied with trying not to think about what she considered doing, if that, was merciful in her eyes. It didn't matter what they had done to them, he was pretty sure those screams would haunt all their dreams, as long as they lived.

The wizard didn't look to be the least bit fazed, instead she gently caressed her furious wife, deftly avoiding the thorns.

"Shh it's all right darling, I'm safe now." She said followed by more reassurances, in what he suspected was the same language her wife had cursed in.

As the woman calmed down, they saw her body literally transform along with her mood. Slowly the fire in her hair diminished until it looked more like branches, her eyes changed into a piercing green, her wooden body became brown, the thorns receded and now she was just slightly taller than them. But while it was clear she was calmer now, that fire seemed to be just under the surface, like a forest that had just been ravaged by fire, and only needed a little spark to send it ablaze again.

"Why didn't you message me sooner?" She almost pleaded.

"I'm sorry, I thought we could escape on our own, and didn't want to worry you unless absolutely necessary." He can't help but notice the tears in her eyes. "Also kinda hoped that when I did introduce them to you, it would be a bit less terrifying." She adds with a tiny sliver of humour in her voice.

"Hmm I forgive you my foolish little flower." She says, as she touches her forehead to their wizard's. Apprapo flowers, he noticed that her hair has sprouted leaves and even a few flowers, and her body was being covered by moss and lichen. Hopefully that meant her mood has approved significantly.

Looking at their party he concluded that their sorcerer was hiding behind their rouge, who was trying their best to make him feel protected, and their paladin was still completely out of it, which it seemed their wizard had finally registered, but then again it was probably fair, that she had been to preoccupied with her wife.

"Darling do you think you could help her?" She asked to which her wife responded by gently touching her finger to their paladin and casting, what he recognised as a much stronger calm emotions than his. She wisely took a few steps back letting wizard stand in front as paladin slowly became more aware of her surroundings.

"Hey look at me we are safe now, there is nothing to worry about. There is no danger anymore I promise you."

"But but, that's, they they, danger I can't, I can't protect, I'm, I'm not even, He, you don't"

It was clear that while she was definitely calmer now, she was still very scared, which surprised him, because with the power of an archfey, she could easily have completely overpowered her fear. But perhaps she wasn't gonna just completely charm her wife's friend, which surely was a good sign.

"Shh shh it's alright, I know you're scared, I know you're all scared and we understand that. What just happened was very scary, and I know the reputation archfey have, but please just trust me when I say, that none of us are in any danger."

"You just say that because she has charmed you!" Sorcerer bravely answers.

"I don't think so," you counter. "Why not just charm all of us, or at least charm paladin, which she clearly didn't, since she is still scared. Why be so concerned with wizards safety, and so quick to forgive? I must admit I have no clue how in the hells it happened, but they clearly love each other very much, and she has been nothing but helpful, so I believe wizard when she says we are safe."

At that wizard smiles, clearly pleased she managed to convince someone.

"Maybe we could at least give them a chance. It's not like we have any way of escaping if she is messing with us," rouge tentatively says.

Sorcerer doesn't say anything, but at least he wasn't complaining or actively freaking out, witch admittedly was a pretty low bar, but considering the day they have had, was gonna have to be good enough.

Paladin looked to be very unsure, but maybe it was the calm emotions, maybe her desire to believe her friend, or maybe she was just too exhausted to do anything but listen.

"Well this is my wife Sevanonna. We have been together for almost 20 years, and I love her with all my heart, but despite all my books and her amazing company, I started to go a little stir crazy a while ago, and really missed adventuring, so after a lot of convincing and safety measures, like this ring I used to communicate with her, I left our home and soon found you guys." As soon as she stopped her nervous rant, her wife took over.

"Like you mortals say, if you love someone you let it go, and if they love you they will come back. Not that I ever worried that was the reason she wouldn't return."

"How in the hells did a shy timid little bookworm like you, snag someone so fiercely powerful?" asked rouge, voicing the question he had been too scared to ask.

"Oh she stumbled into my domain on accident in her ever growing search for knowledge, and she was just so sweet and kind and adorable, I couldn't find it within myself to punish her. I was curious and lonely, so we made a very simple deal. I would help her with gaining knowledge, if she would keep me company. As fun as messing with mortals can be, it doesn't keep me entertained for very long, and I don't particularly care for the company of my fellow archfey. We couldn't help but fall for each other, and by now that deal has been null and void for a very long time."

As she spoke, she looked at their wizard with such strong fondness it was impossible not to believe, and he already knew once he had pressed wizard for some more details, he was gonna create the most beautiful love ballad the world had ever seen out of this.

It seemed sorcerer and paladin had decided to very tentatively trust their story as well, or maybe just given up. Afterall they knew rouge was right. They didn't really have a choice.

"Well then show us to your home then. I'm dying to see what kind of fantastical place you live in, if this forest is anything to go by!" He decided to say as a way of lightning their spirits. Rouge ended up carrying sorcerer, who was too weak to do anything but curl up in her, thankfully deceptively strong, arms. And he supported paladin as they walked, to the best of his abilities. Sevanonna seemed to understand, that although she could definitely simply carry them all, it was better to not intervene.

Later that night, or perhaps it was technically the next day, he wasn't sure and didn't really care, he found himself alone with paladin. For while he wasn't the least bit surprised by sorcerer and rouge, palsdin's actions seemed wholly out of character, and he was determined to find out why.

"Hey you all right there?" Paladin turned to look at him with a panicked look for half a second, until it seemed like she remembered who he was. She must have been lost in her mind again.

"I'm, I'm fine." She said with a hint of her usual confidence, although it was clear she definitely wasn't.

"I know you are usually the one who does this, but if you wanna talk about it, I promise to lend an ear and not tell anyone." She looked like she was considering it. "Everyone needs someone to lean on, once in a while. You don't have to be our strong confident leader all the time. I'm pretty sure you would say something like that, if you where me." That last part at least managed to produce a tiny snort.

"I... my mother she, she made a deal with an archfey a long time ago. But she was tricked and understemated the price. She ... it took my youngest sister and when she tried to stop that she," at this point paladin broke down sobbing. He tried his best not to loose it at the sound that felt so wrong coming from her, and decided to rub circles on her back like she usually did. When that didn't help, he decided to stop being her and just do what he was best at, which was performing. So he summoned his dulcimer and started playing a comforting tune, and trying to do his best to put some sort of bardic magic into it.

"I was about the age of sorcerer, and suddenly I was the oldest in our little family. I had to be the responsible one, I had to protect us. That is why I devoted myself to my god, to make sure no chaotic or evil forces would ever mess with those I loved ever again. But not even the gods could stop them from deciding to start their own lives, once they got older. They moved on, and I didn't really fit into their lives anymore. I tried to devote myself even more, and create my own life too. And when I found you it felt like I had a family I could protect again. But I failed." And with that she collapsed and starting sobbing even harder than before. What she said made sense. She definitely was the mother of their group, not just because of her age, and a fiercely protective one at that. That was clearly something she had in common with their wizard's wife. And with that kind of tragic backstory, who could blame her. He could also see why she must have panicked like that when a threatening archfey suddenly appeared, and why she felt like she had failed in protecting them. She couldn't risk trusting that this wasn't some elaborate trick. He probably couldn't do anything about that, but he couldn't let her believe they saw her as a failure.

"No. You have not failed us. We are all still together, surely that counts for something? I can promise you if it wasn't for you, we would have all destroyed each other, or at the very least left. You have always been our glue, whether it was settling differences, or patching us up. You protected us all during that fight, and is the only reason sorcerer isn't dead now. But we are all adults here, or mostly, and you don't have to protect us all the time. Let us protect you too. We are a team, and that means we all have each other's backs. We are all here, we are safe, or at the very least not in active danger, we can rest and recover now, and afterwards we can talk about ensuring it doesn't get so bad again. But we are all alive, and if you hadn't been here, things would have gone so much worse, so cut yourself some slack alright?

"Hmm" was all he got from her before she fell asleep. It was good that she had relaxed enough to get some rest, he just had to hope she had heard his words, and taken them to heart.

An adventuring party is in a cage suspended over acid the wizard clears his throat "I just sent a message to my wife she should be here to save us soon." "Wait your married?" Said the rouge "more importantly what is she gonna." The paladin is interrupted by a massive explosion.

[specialgradefckr]

nerd!gojo is so cute! please give him a kiss on the cheek for me.

you stare at the note you found in your locker. it's written in glittery purple ink, which only adds to the insult.

gojo, "cute"??? give him a kiss on the cheek???

like an ill omen summoned by its name, a terrible presence looms over your shoulder, "watcha got there?"

"hate mail." you say dispassionately as you quickly shove gojo away.

when you face him, you see gojo's face change - smooth features and rounded eyes hardening into anger.

"hate mail?" gojo frowns, "in your locker? who would send that?!"

"you want a list?" comes geto's snarky voice. "she's kind of a bitch."

you shoot him a glare, but gojo speaks before you can.

"don't talk about her like that."

the room feels a little bit colder. since when did gojo sound so... mean?

"i'm just saying," geto says, shrugging, "you'd know better than anyone, she's always on your ass."

"yeah, my ass," gojo turns to you, a pout on his face, "you're not bullying other people, are you? i don't have any other bullies."

only satoru gojo could get into an argument this stupid.

"no," you drone, "your drain on my time and attention is uncontested."

rather than being ashamed of this, gojo looks absolutely tickled.

even when you punch him in the shoulder, his good mood is undampened.

"nerd," you grouse, stalking off to your next class, which gojo naturally follows.

it sucked being in the same classes as him, but at least it meant you could get his help. he really is a huge nerd. all those hours you put into it, and he seems to understand everything effortlessly.

the class feels like it takes hours. you pay diligent attention, take so many notes, and somehow, gojo comes out of it completely chipper.

you're left in peace for a few blessed minutes afterwards as he bolts out of the room for some reason or another.

is he finally starting to fear you as his bully? took him long enough -

"here!" pressed into your hands, your favorite snack from the campus vending machine.

gojo smiles at you, that big, boyish smile that makes him look extra stupid. "sorry i messed up last time."

you don't know what comes over you. maybe it's pure delirium brought on by hunger. or the joy from having something nice to eat.

maybe it's a new form of torture, humiliating him by making him endure a kiss from his bully.

it's just a kiss on the cheek. it's whatever.

he stands there, still, face completely red, blue eyes wide in shock. gojo looks even dumber than usual, which shouldn't even be possible.

you fan your face for a moment as you turn to leave.

"come on, you idiot. we've got a test to study for."

gojo whistles some unbelievably stupid tune, practically skipping the whole way to the library.

"i can't believe it! she kissed me on the cheek!!! a real kiss!" "uh-huh." "don't uh-huh me, suguru, it was REAL! anyways, it all makes sense now. she was just hangry. no wonder she shoved me into a locker. it's my fault for not taking better care of her..." "would you listen to me if i reminded you that you're not dating and this is all pure delusion?" "not dating yet." "so a no, then," suguru says, rolling his eyes as he returns to his work. satoru's already finished with the homework and scrolling through his text message history with you, no doubt spamming you again with memes or pictures or just remarks. but you haven't blocked him yet, have you? suguru smiles to himself, closing his notebook, tucking away a shimmering violet pen.

[bengiyo]

Ben’s Big BL Blurb 5: Let’s Talk About Sex

I was mostly planning to check in again after the current Japanese shows ended, but after three out of four sex scenes left me wanting this week, I want to write down my ideas. I maintain that bed scenes, like action scenes, need to tell us more about the characters. Many sex scenes serve as a release of tension or confirmation of existing feelings. As usual, MAME seems to understand this, and others should probably take notes. 

Call Me By No Name is Doing Nothing For Me (5/8)

I have just about given up on this show. I don’t get Megumi’s whole deal, why she’s so in love with Kohata, or Kohata’s reticence. I was really hoping that an intimate scene would open up some space for vulnerability and truth with them to give us some answers about why these two weirdos are drawn to each other, but that’s not what we got. I was hoping that when we saw these two go at it we’d learn how much Megumi has felt for women before, or how she responded to Kohata’s experience. Instead, I’m left feeling cold by the whole affair, and generally baffled by the conflicting themes around going somewhere she did cutesy girl nights before, and ordering the cute food. This one is a chop.

Impression of Youth is Wasting My Time (5/9)

I have my own squicks as a former teacher with stories where a teacher messes around with their student. However, I don’t see the point of doing a teacher-student story if we’re not going to explore any of the lines being crossed here. We also didn’t get a good arc about the student helping the teacher properly reconnect with a feeling, or discover something, that helped him get back to his art. We simply had him start painting on the beach again, the kid confessed, and then they fucked with awkward kissing. I was a bit let down by the brother’s fast encouragement of the whole thing. It felt like they were reaching for the same energy we had in Call Me By Your Name (2017) with Oliver and Elio, but it’s missing the component where Oliver knew what he was doing the whole time for me. The overall alignment feels off, and I’m getting so little emotion from this show as a result. On top of all that, they showed us the kid’s boxers before implying he was nude in the shower! Ridiculous! 

When It Rains It Pours is Being Shy About Sex in a Show About Cheating (5/7)

This is the biggest offender of the week for me. This show is all about how the leads cannot have sex from the people they love, and find someone they can commiserate with in each other. When the dam finally breaks and they both need the release in each other, I was so dismayed that the show tried to gloss over as much of the sex as possible. It’s so fucking annoying for me when the shows about sex get precious about it and won’t show it. I was thankful that they tried to capture all the emotions happening around the weekend they spent together, but I think we lost a lot in not having Hagiwara blow Sei, because you just know that man has a people pleasing streak that would require him to give pleasure back. The lack of sex also means that there is no gap time between the infidelity and the discovery. We don’t give enough time for the shift in their relationship to breathe before the crisis (@respectthepetty). I’ve lamented before about Japanese shows only showing toxic or breakup sex, and so it’s damned annoying that they’re doing that in the cheating show because they probably want these guys to be together by the end. I was really hoping Mood Indigo would have some company finally (especially after Love in the Air Koi), but I clearly need to stay patient. Cannot overstate how lame it is for the show about two guys cheating because their partners won’t fuck them being shy about the sex effectively sides with the partners who won’t fuck them. Finally, I am not over them getting the insertion angle wrong while making points about it!!

Your Sky Could Have Been A Good Follow-Up on 2gether

I’ve been sitting on this one for a bit because I don’t know what I want to say about this one. I was really into it in the beginning, but it felt like this show didn’t really know what it wanted to do after resolving the issues with Oh. I personally liked the dad being confronted by his wife and father about the way his homophobia was hurting his son, but I didn’t really enjoy it as a Very Special Episode. I would have also liked to see Teerak’s newfound assertiveness in this period beyond is refusal to cave. I think this show also deeply underutilized its own supporting characters, especially the side couples. Still, I thought Thomas was probably the most beautiful newest BL boy we’ve gotten, and I liked the way he and Kong worked together. I also really enjoyed Teerak being allowed to want sex, ask for it, and take charge of it. That’s so important for a cute character. Letting us know that Teerak has also become protective of the private moments he has with Fah, and is growing into his desire for Fah really is a great way to finish a show.

Final Verdict: 7, Recommended With Reservations. I find it hard to give this a stronger recommendation. I just think the show ends up being overall inessential from how much of it ends up being fluff that doesn’t connect much to each other. The biggest things I liked were Fah and Teerak, especially in the early episodes, and I liked the family dynamics. Still, I feel like this show didn’t know what to do without Tine’s internalized homophobia, and what to do with Fah’s ex that was mentioned. There’s just too much hanging off this to recommend it as a strong drama. Everyone is very pretty, and the performances are earnest. It’s a show that means well, even if it’s a bit indulgent. 

The Boy Next World Understands that Phu Has a Dick (5/10)

MAME, as usual, understands the assignment. There’s no way that their first encounter is going to be Cir showing up to stick is dick in Phu’s ass. He’s been obsessed with this boy for years in a way that prioritizes Phu’s wellbeing. It was absolutely correct to payoff that Cir keeps making Phu hard by having Cir take care of him, let us see that Phu enjoyed it. Like @babyangelsky I think it’s important that we let go of the notion that cute characters cannot want and enjoy sex. We got so much from this. We know that Cir likes to give pleasure, and that he’s not going to ask for it from Phu. We also know that Phu cares about Cir, too, because he asked about his time in the bathroom (Cir clearly jerked off and rinsed his mouth, y’all). What’s so excellent about putting a sex scene at this point is it means we’ll see their sex change after Phu learns that Cir has been stalking him for years. MAME is consistently the best storyteller at using the kisses and sex to help inform the arc of the relationship. Most importantly, she gets what the angles are supposed to be.

Ossan’s Love Thailand Is…Fine (5/12)

I’m not really into this one much right now, despite what I think is a pretty solid performance from Krit Shahkrit. I understand the choice to go back to making Kongdech a widower, but I don’t think giving him a daughter who initially opposed the romance added much to this for me. I’m hoping activating Thor’s character next week will add some energy to this for me, because I’m feeling a bit flat with it at this point. I’m glad they’re letting Earth and Mix continue to play adult characters, but it doesn’t feel like they knew what they wanted to do with office romance dynamics here.

Gelboys is a Welcome Return from Boss Kuno (1/7)

Started this today and I am seated. I really love how much it feels like we get to actually be inside of Bangkok. I love that we opened with an ad for the Bangkok rail system as a mechanism for freedom. I love how filming on iphones has enhanced the naturalistic feeling of the production. I also love how we completed the major arc of the het angst of Make It Right in the first like five minutes. Incredible stuff. I’m so excited to see the mess Fou4Mod is going to make of everything, and I’m excited to see Chian dickmatize that boy. Curious to see how much this feels like a bubble show. Shout out to Boss for showing us a naked teen at the start of this show to scare off the pearl clutchers.

RED BLUE is EVERYTHING (6/8)

This is not BL, but it’s got enough BL boys rolling on the floor and sweating on top of each other that I’m saying here loudly that I LOVE IT. Kimura Keito is fantastic in this, and I loved his fight with Okura Takato in episode 6. I almost didn’t recognize my boy from his role as Amane in If It’s With You with the change in his hair. I did not know I needed a wrestling show with BL boys…who am I kidding? We’ve been asking for this every year. This is hitting all the notes I want from a sports shonen show. It’s fantastic.

Please Use the Sex Well in Romance

I think there’s a real place for clean romance in the BL genre. Some of our favorites don’t involve sex being a major component of their romance narrative, but that often requires significantly more drama and better storytelling and plots. What I cannot abide is when I find myself bargaining about how a show that wants to talk about sex every episode seemingly doesn’t want to deal with sex. Romances about sex that don’t use the sex well in their stories are as bad as comedies with terrible jokes, or action flicks with no suspense and satisfying fight sequences.

Other than that, I dropped I'll Turn Back This Time. It’s just too stupid and incoherent for me to put up with it’s nonsense. Seeya next time. 

[prettycottonmouthlamia]

Oh boy there is so much here and I'd absolutely love a crack at explaining it. "What is weird about cats in Arknights?" a lot actually, and honestly, it's what is weird about every animal in Arknights.

So, yes, first of all, you have the "Feline" race, which broadly includes every cat person in the game, with the exception of lion people, who are categorized under Aslan instead. These aren't actually super important to our discussion immediately, so I'm going to gloss over them for right now. Point is, lots of people are cat people in this world, and this isn't given much pause.

That, at minimum, though, is a little weird. People on Terra don't seem to know that "cats" exist for the most part. There are a few people in particular that are important to our discussions here: first is Mousse, who has a bunch of friends she calls "kitties" but whom don't seem to be creatures known to the wide world; second is Haze, who has a major interest in "kitties", but these being BOTH the normal cat looking varieties AND Felines; and Phantom, who is a feline that is followed around by a two-tailed cat named Ms. Christine.

Ms. Christine gives us our first clue into all of this. Haze has a lot of respect for her, and Ms. Christine seems to just randomly appear in places following Phantom. What's more, the implication is that Ms. Christine won't show herself without her consent. If she doesn't want you to find her, you won't. While this might just seem like your average cat behavior, this is actually a common trait about the various Beast Lords in the game. Dolly, the Beast Lord for Sheep, can also make it so he is not visible to people if he so wishes, with one exception (Kal'tsit).

Ms. Christine hasn't talked at all, so we don't specifically need to know what her deal is. We do know that she is trying to keep Phantom away from the Crimson Troupe, the wandering assassination theater group who raised and groomed him from when he was a young orphan, and given that she can freely walk amongst the troop's castle in Calais, it's at least clear she's not ordinary.

What about Mousse's kitties? We don't know! They do seem to have some degree of deliberate intelligence to them, but they might simply be normal cats. The point here is that the others don't know what they are, so it's possible they could be Beast Lords too.

What IS interesting is that, according to Dolly, Beast Lords and their modern races originate from the same source. Beast Lords are _probably_ manifestations of animals that resulted after the first Catastrophes brought Originium to the surface worldwide, and from that point, the Beast Lords were born and the other animals began their evolutionary divergence (because remember: this is not a people becoming animals story, it's an animals becoming people story!).

There are also cloudbeasts, or at least at minimum, cloudbeasts are similar enough in shape to cat and dogs that the people of Terra don't find Mio or Woof to be particularly strange (Mio and Woof being Beast Lords themselves). Terra does seem to have its own unique versions of many animals we would know: fowlbeasts for birds, burdenbeasts for large herbivores etc. But on Terra, by and large (depending on what is happening with Mousse), it lacks the animals that we would expect in our world, as they either became Beast Lords or turned into animal people.

(For example, there is a Hound type enemy in the game, but they're actually some kind of fragment of a dog-like Beast Lord in Bolivar. This is only explained in the CN only lorebook because Hypergryph hates me in particular.)

This covers almost everything there is to say about cats in Arknights, with one exception: Kal'tsit. The like immortal green cat girl of the setting. Her conversation with Nezzsalem, the almost as immortal leader of the Nachzehrer, indicates that she seemingly was not always a cat girl, and we know that she is actually an artificial creation from the Precursor Civilization to Terra that brought both the original animals and Originium to the moon. So what is Kal'tsit, if she were not always a cat girl?

We don't know! My theory is that Mont3r, her companion, is in some way a "larval" form of Kal'tsit, given that it is sentient and that Kal'tsit seems to trust it to do the right thing when she passes. Curious!

Anyways yeah. Cats are weird in Arknights.

Arknights could pull off an event about a young witch searching for her lost cat in the alps. In fact it’d actually be super hype considering how weird cats are in lore

[loving-family-poll]

Ultimate Incest Poll - Final

Propaganda under the cut:

Liam/Noel:

The Gallagher brothers have a very intense relationship that doesn't make any sense to the outside viewer unless one considers the possibility of incest. For 30 years now they have been utterly unhinged about one another in the public eye. Noel has often made incest jokes; Liam once said on-stage once "we had sex last night" referring to him and Noel. Even people writing in actual books and magazines have picked up on the vibes (some stuff that has been printed about them fully feels like it was written by tumblr incestinas except it's like. actual fucking journalists). Also there was this one time in 1996 where they kissed each other with tongue in front of 40 thousand people.

They have been described as “in love with each other” by both themselves and third parties. the lyrics “you’re my lover, i’m your brother.” they kissed with tongue at loch lomond in 1996 and have also been photographed/videoed kissing on the mouth other times. liam regularly groped noel onstage. liam’s entire twitter is just propaganda too. liam talked about impregnating noel once. noel frequently talks about how physically attractive liam is. liam claims that he’s noel’s muse

their song guess god thinks im abel has the lyrics "i could be your lover" while comparing themselves to you guessed it abel and cain. and like. a thousand more instances of them being weird about each other. also noel REALLY wanted a sister and he mentioned it quite a few times and said well liam IS basically a sister or something like that. normal behaviour

Liam literally called himself Noel's good boy on twitter, and called him god a few times after reunion. Noel said he loves make women cry and the only thing that's better is make Liam cry so he can laugh and call him a woman. They literally kissed with tongue and loch lomand is not their only kiss they have two more photos of different kissing to, they literally used the japan kiss video for reunion video. YES THEY DID THAT TF. Noel said they are head over heels in love and said it's illegal in many countries. Also Noel said Liam is like his ex-wife a few times or shit like those cunts are fucking crazy

Other people have described them as more like boyfriend/girlfriend than brothers and said they’re in love. someone on twitter asked liam “if you’re john lennon, who is noel?” and liam said “yoko ono.” another time someone said on twitter “you defo rimmed noel when you were younger” and liam replied “you jealous?"

Deeply weird about each other getting married (them not attending each other's wedding which occurred month apart and then getting divorce around the same time and they stayed at the same hotel for months), intense infamously love-hate relationship and is everyone's favorite soap opera, noel saying "on stage i just wanted him..there's only two of us that will ever get this", prominent theme of shame and crime and impossible dream in noel gallagher works, the elusive meaning of wonderwall which noel insisted is not about anyone but there's good amount of evidence that it referenced back to their childhood and their shared bedroom, liam having mental breakdown several times on twitter about noel, liam's my brother is getting a divorce playlist to which he shared with his 3 millions twitter followers, incest-baiting on main ever since the reunion, brother and lover being interchangeable for noel when writing lyrics, noel (allegedly) lying to liam that his girlfriend cheated on him in order to sabotage their relationship before oasis took off, liam hating noel's latest (ex) wife (sarah), noel writing "the owner of the star on stage" after liam's autograph and so many more insane shit

"[Liam] thinks all the songs are about him. He even thinks Wonderwall is about him." –Noel Gallagher (1997)

"It's all about me it always was and is" –Liam Gallagher (2023)

Japan kiss (kiss is at the end) loch lomand kiss

PLUS they’re back together after 14 years of estrangement! The narrative!

Cain/Abel:

the og brotherssss. invented murder.

Brothers inexorably tied together… brothers alone in a field, no witnesses but god… jealousy violence guilt sin… you get it.

Blueprint for violent older sibling & younger sibling relationships. Our beloved Cain complex comes from this story and where would we be without it? These two are the huge inspirations for both incestuous and non incestuous poetry, especially between brothers. Nothing represents the self destructiveness of incest more than these guys. Also I know they frotted in those fields, Eve told me.

[kissboybyler]

it gets to me so much sometimes when i think that, in whichever fandom, the GA or just most people tend to ship two characters just because they are canon. Like mike and el, for instance, they are canon, they have kissing scenes and they dance at the ball and they…hug?! But what do they even talk about? What’s the music playing in the background? What’s the context of their interactions? Why, why do they love each other? Do they make each other better, do they find missing parts of themselves in the form of another person? Are there hints and tells and color-codes that just…exist to symbolise their love?

Why do we ship these characters? What’s is it about their love that is so strong? And don’t get me wrong, i also believe -like many other bylers/ fans of the show- that mike and el grew to love each other, to appreciate and kind of need each other. But not for the right reasons.

I mean, mike needs to be needed, to be able to help or even save another person, to feel loved and wanted. But he also needs to allow himself to be who he is, outside of “forced conformity” (“that’s what’s killing the kids” after all!)

El, on the other hand, needs to find who she is, but firstly she needs to have a safe place where she is allowed to kind of just exist and then blossom into her true self. And bumping into mike, who eventually grew to appreciate and embrace her, she felt safe for the first time. And alongside her, mike felt needed, like he could protect her and be there for her and make her happy.

But now el, who has established both meaningful familial relationships and friendships, needs to find out who she is. How can we expect her to grow when she’s in a relationship with the first person she met right after she broke out of the lab (her literal prison), who can’t even talk about any other part of her that he loves other than her powers?

And i’ve read many many other people write about this, about how in s4, when mike wasn’t with el he embraced his geeky, nerdy and weird self but when he finally reunited with el, he had to hide himself from her (as did she!). He just…couldn’t be himself around her.

But like, apart from the problems in their relationship, i really just don’t understand why people ship them. It’s just…mike cant be himself around el and el doesn’t have room to find herself when she’s with mike. It literally doesn’t make any mathematical sense.

And then they say we’re delusional for thinking, for proving, that there are astronomically higher chances for these two not to be endgame, for el to be single and for mike and will to get together. Because it makes sense…right? Like, el will be able to find herself outside of a relationship, she won’t be dictated by anyone but her own self, and mike and will… do i really have to elaborate? Like, in every single aspect of stranger things, from musical titles and colour-codes, parallels and loving, longing stares, hand touches, over-protectiveness, deep and meaningful understanding to posters and freaking funko-pops, interviews and good ol’ fashioned cinematography and storytelling… it all points to them, if you connect the dots.

And how, how is it possible that so many dots have been put into such perfect places, to make such a beautifully crafted imagery, just for all of this to be a coincidence? When, when has anything ever in stranger things been coincidental? Ever?

Edit: I’d just like to denote that, when i said “(mike) can’t even talk about any other part of her that he loves other than her powers” i didn’t mean that mike loves el JUST because she has powers, fuck no, BUT when the time was right for him to note all of the other aspects of her character that make her a remarkable person (ex. her selflessness, her compassion), he decided to focus on her powers. The very thing that she herself thought dictated her.

just wanted to make that super clear.

[ledesaid]

Almost Complete - Shazam without Achilles

↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕

AU - Billy receives the news, not all his sponsors agreed that he was to be the new champion of magic.

Solomon was happy to guide him with his advice. ▲ Hercules was convinced that he would be a great lion when he grew up a little. ▲ Atlas was very kind and is willing to bear some of the weight of the new champion. ▲ Zeus had given his approval in consensus with the choice of the wizard. ▲ Mercury really enjoyed feeling the strength of speed through Billy again. ▲ Achilles, yes, this Achilles... He didn't want him fighting for justice or fighting in general. He was completely against a child throwing himself against evil, injustice, pain, and many more things that Solomon hushed up so as not to worry Billy. ▲ It was non-negotiable, Achilles would not give his gift until Billy was an adult or understood the magnitude of what it meant not to have it.

Then...

Yes. There was something that didn't come in the demigod package instructions or even in the warnings...

Billy receives an echo of all the damage he recibes in his divine form.

And boy... does it hurt!

Billy has paraded through all kinds of injuries. Black eyes, some broken or bruised bone and he is proud of having recovered from all of them.

Although...

People are too scared about his integrity.

So, there was only one alternative left, you know, that's why he left the orphanage and all his previous foster homes.

He had gotten used to the whole system and was at a dead end at the same time. But he didn't want to give rise to misunderstandings... Misunderstandings that would generate a barrage of abuse reports... heavens.

That wasn't heroic.

"What happened to you, Billy?"

"Sorry, I fell again..."

Billy doesn't want them to get involved. He wants to be a hero and is willing to bear that weight. That's why he took what little he had and escaped.

So he is opting for a word-based approach. Talking is better than hitting. Solomon always whispers it and, given his situation, he tries to hold on as much as he can.

But sometimes... one cannot choose.

Hal: Cap, are you okay?

Marvel: Yes! It's just going to leave me an ugly bruise. Do you know... Do you know how to heal a rib at home?

Hal: We'll fix it in the Watchtower, Cap. Can you still fight?

Billy knows he should say no. The blow broke a couple of ribs, he has felt a tingling sensation, the magic has healed the blow... But the echo of the damage will leave him with a broken rib.

Another blow in the same place and it could be much worse... Going to a hospital and returning to the system... Goodbye Captain... Goodbye freedom... Hello endless persecution.

Marvel: Yes, throw it at me, I'll send it to jail with one hit.

Hal: That's the spirit, Cap!

With the end of the day, Captain Marvel delivered the final blow.

But the one who really took it was Billy.

As usual, the infirmary in the Watchtower did not detect any damage in his adult form... But they didn't know what awaited him in Fawcett.

Marvel: Batman, sir, I need to take a couple of weeks off. I have an urgent matter to attend to and it cannot be postponed.

Batman: I'm going to send the notice, so we can support you in your city. Thanks for today, Captain.

Marvel: Thank you very much too Batman, I don't know what I would do without you.

Batman: Captain... Are you sure you're not hurt?

Billy: I-I have the resistance of Achilles, remember? I mean! Of course, I'm not hurt, Mr. Batman!

Billy narrowly escapes and prepares. It's time.

That terrible moment in his superhero career...

The curtain must fall.

Billy has already thought about it. The magnitude of the injury...

He must transform as close as possible to the hospital. If he can walk, he will go to his hideout and if he can't, he will have to surrender. Escaping will be terrible, but he would think about that when the time came.

It takes a while, pronouncing that word is so easy... But now it brings a bitter taste.

Sha... Sha...

Billy sits down. It will hurt less if he is sitting when it happens.

Billy: Shazam...

Billy faints next to an alley. It's the last thing he sees before waking up in the hospital.

He wears an oxygen mask.

His head hurts... Had he also hit there?

There were several devices connected, oh, and a social worker next to his bed.

He rejoined the Watchtower three weeks later. Batman had many questions, and Captain Marvel did what he does best: he escaped.

[rosiesdisneydrama]

I'll be honest, I don't know anything about borrowers or borrower aus, but your borrower Stan au is excellent. I especially love the version where Fiddleford is the one to find Stan. When does Fidds figure out Stan is Ford's twin? Is it instant, or does it slowly get revealed?

I'm personally a big fan of dramatic irony and (funny) miscommunication, so I'm just imagining Fidds not realizing they're related (and Stan avoiding mentioning any family, especially not his twin) so when Ford shows up, absolutely ecstatic at being able to study this new anomaly, everyone is caught completely off guard.

Thank you! I’m kinda glad so many people like the idea behind this little lark! (Even if I don’t plan on writing it out myself. I’m already juggling 2 other gf aus rn.) It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one who thinks they would be fun to read/mess around with.

Fidds definitely suspects that something is connecting Stan and Ford at the start just because the resemblance is too strong to be just from chance. I mean, they’re twins and the odds of some random stranger on the streets looking just like your roommate from college are pretty low in the first place. So he’s pretty sure the two are related in some way.

I’m also of the opinion that Fidds does know that Ford has two brothers and not just one.

Like, Ford and Stan spent the entirety of their childhoods and almost all of their teenage years together. I feel like there’s no way he could have completely omitted Stan’s existence from his roommate while cramming as many credits as possible into his college schedule. He may not have told Fidds that they were twins, but I don’t think he can have fully pretended that Stan never existed in the first place.

He may have been vague about the things from their childhood/teenage years but he didn’t try to wipe Stan from his own history.

Fidds might suspect that Stan is Ford’s missing brother but he would also believe they could be cousins instead. Until he gets some form of confirmation about it.

The most he’d probably be able to pry out of Stan before Ford shows up is that he was homeless/a drifter and that he (probably) didn’t think his family would have cared much about him maybe being missing. (Which makes Fidd’s heart go out to the poor guy because ouch man. That’s gotta sting…) Except for his Ma. She might file the missing person's report if Pa didn’t try to stop her.

And Stan wouldn’t suspect that the “Stanford” that Fidds was talking about might be his brother because, after all, the name isn’t that unusual. There are probably plenty of guys named Stanford out there. Just like there are plenty of guys named Stanley!

It’s not until his dorky brother practically breaks down the door in his excitement that he realizes he should have asked more questions about the anomaly guy.

And Ford is just blindsided.

[starlight-bread-blog]

Okay I'm gonna go full conspiracy, but some of y'all are way worse so I'm doing this. Listen up. Will Byers and Mike Wheeler are fictional characters. Meaning, that everything they do, everything they think and yes, everything they feel has a purpose. So let's look at the facts as they are. Mike couldn't tell El that he loves her, and Will is in love with Mike. Right off the bat, with Will, this fact could lead to two things:

Mike is also in love with Will, and there will be a love triangle with Mike in the middle.

Mike is not in love with Will, and Will will either end up alone, or die, or find another queer boy to love.

With scenario 1, everything is fine. But although on paper, scenario 2 makes sense, we should take into account that everything that Will feels is a carefully thought out decision.

Let's remember the themes and the message of Stranger Things. This show is about the freaks of society, the losers, the outcasts. How people may l give them the side eye, but they have each other. And they'll stand by each other no matter what. So, how does this relate to Will and Mike? Will is a gay boy in the 80s, which not only makes him an outcast, but an outright freak in the eyes of the public. It would go against Stranger Things' message to write a freak trying to find love in his best friend, the one who's supposed to be by his side forever, and having him rejected. In real life, this would not be a problem. If someone is straight, they're straight. But in fiction, the sexuality and or love interest of a character is again, a choice with ramification on the quality of the story. And writing Will, a "freak", having his heart broken by someone who he considered another freak, when you're telling a story about how freaks empower each other by sticking together, is not a smart writing decision.

(There is also the matter of the van scene, where Will's supposedly unrequited feelings are being used to repair El and Mike's relationship, as Will cries over not being able to be with Mike. In other words, if Mike isn't in love with Will, the outcast's suffering is used to fix what's more socially acceptable. Do you see the problem? I don't know how many times I'm going to repeat myself in this post, and I hope it's not getting annoying, but I need to make this as crystal clear as possible: Fiction is not real life. In real life, a gay boy could use some words of affirmation regardless of how they feel, it's just being nice. But in fiction, you have a job to do. You have a story to tell. You have a message you want to put out into the world. And this scene is not compatible with the message).

But let's look at Mike. In season 4, El confronts Mike about him not telling her that he loves her. And throughout that whole scene, not even once, does he just say that he loves her. In the end he does, but the reason as to why he stopped saying it, or why he didn't say it when she confronted him, is never explained. In real life, it's okay if Mike wants to deal with whatever he feels and the reasons behind it with himself. But this is not real life, this was deliberately written to be understood by an audience. It was written to serve a purpose. Mike not being able to tell El that he loves her was a serious conflict in season 4, and the cause behind it is left unknown. This is bad writing, plain and simple. Unless, there is some other factor we are not yet aware of. Unless, he could possibly have feelings for someone else. Maybe that someone is Will.

With that theory in mind, remember when Will and Mike met after a long time of not seeing each other? Will was gonna hug Mike, but Mike just went for a fist bump. There was a very awkward atmosphere in that moment. Why would there be? Once again, I'm not talking about real life. In real life, it could just be awkward because they haven't talked to each other in a while and Mike needs time to adjust. But this is fiction. Every emotion has a purpose, every bit leads to something. And so far, it led to nothing. There was just one awkward moment, with no explanation, and it's never brought up again. There is no reason for it to be there. It's common knowledge that unnecessary story bits shouldn't make it to the final cut. If this wouldn't be expanded upon in some way, it'd be bad writing. It wouldn't be the worst thing to ever happen, but combined with him not being able to tell El that he loves her, it's all very confusing to say the least. But the story is not over, and maybe, all will be explained. And just maybe, that awkwardness could be described as tension between the two. Maybe Mike is in love with Will. That would be the most logical explanation.

[etherealily]

bets // f.odair

Part 1 : Guilt

Part 2 : Art

[3/3] Long + also overdue.

Finnick Odair + fem!reader. Warnings : Cuss words, SFW but discretion advised, mature themes, hurt/comfort

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : Gasp in a tempest.

══════════════════ 🔹🔹🔹🔹═════════════════

There's a sort of domesticity to this that he despises.

Your features essentially flow under his fingers as he traces them, slowly, devotedly. And he doesn't know why.

He's just willed himself to stop in immaculate timing, because a couple of sharp knocks sound on the door.

You hear them, clearly, but you don't bother. He nudges you as gently as possible. "You hear that?"

"My niece and nephew. They know I nap in the afternoons. This is just to let me know they're home.", you inform, basically whine, before your face is in his chest, trying to get away from the fucking light.

He nods. "I gotta tell you something."

"Now?"

"Now."

He watches you groan, one eye closed as you sit up and try to adjust to the light, before you make grabbing hands for your clothes.

Great. Something to make the situation worse. Harsh reminders. So much for the last thing he'd do. But after you'd come from the market, he'd just... it seemed like doing anything else would just be stupid. Who wouldn't kiss you all over?

"Yeah?'

He's frozen. He's dying. He's terrified. He's never seen you mad, but he's sure that when it comes to your family, you'd wage wars.

"I talked to Snow about you."

"What?"

"I talked to him. I, uh, talked to him to get you out of this fake, um... agreement? Situation? I dunno."

You frown, standing up and disappearing into the bathroom to brush your teeth. "Get out of it?"

"Uh, yeah. Y'know. Come up with a breakup story that doesn't put me in a bad light and doesn't get you stone-pelted in the street."

"You want to get out of it?"

Your voice is quiet enough that he knows he's made a mistake, a huge, fucking mistake, and he hadn't even got to the worst part yet, the hey-so-I-used-you-and-now-you're-a-target part.

"You don't?"

"I-", you sigh, and he breaks. Shit. "I- no, yeah, no, I do.", you assure, nodding vehemently.

"If something's changed-" he'd be fucked. If something's changed, then he'd be completely fucked.

"No, I just, y'know, um.", you mumbled, spitting out your toothpaste. "It's like, me just being all... it's, uh, nothing."

"Wait, whoa, whoa, what do you mean?" No, no, no, please God, don't-

"That night was, like, my first time. So i just, uh, y'know? It's stupid, that's not how the world works, I know, it's-"

Jesus fucking Christ.

He'd taken your freedom, your life and your virginity.

"No, it's not stupid, you just- trust me, you don't want me."

"Why, because of what Snow makes you do?", you ask, softly, and he heavily regrets the lies he spewed to Snow about you. 'Didn't care'. Please. All you did was care. You gave way too many shits about him. "You know I care for you either way."

You're being very careful not to use the word 'love', and he respects it. You're hedging your bets and he's been there.

Kinda hates it, though, because if you did use it, then he'd have a clear plan - get you the fuck out of Panem.

"I- Y/N, you're so smart. You're so good.", he whispers, making his way over to your hands and lifting them, kind of like a barrier between you and him for what he's about to say. "You don't deserve me."

"Finnick--"

"Shut up for a second, baby, okay?", he mutters, kissing your palm. "Just listen."

He's not sure if he expected you to argue, but he sure as hell didn't expect you to comply.

The silence and your fucking eyes urge him to start. And he doesn't know where. His mind seems to desperately try to convince him otherwise, to convince him he could run away and build a boat with you somewhere, and you'd be none the wiser.

But he has to say this, because for all the absolutely evil shit he's been doing lately, he has to at least get an iota of redemption.

"I've been lying to you."

The words ring around the room, ricochet back to him and wrap around his neck like a noose. They wrap around your arms like handcuffs.

He's pretty sure he's stopped breathing.

When did he get this way?

When did he lose hope?

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ONE WEEK EARLIER

He didn't think he should start his birthday off with a lie. But sometimes, you don't have an option.

"It's not that I don't love her."

"Then what is it? Let me guess. You told her your whole sob story and she didn't care?"

He kinda wished that was true. "Yes." See? Lie.

"Shame. I really thought she was the one, y'know?", mused Snow, tapping Finnick's nose twice. If he could, he'd bite that fucking finger off.

But this was a political, mind war, not an actual, bloody one. Not yet, anyway.

"Yeah. Me, too."

"I had a whole thing planned. A whole storyline. She'd be the pathetic, yet down-to-earth, homely wife that let you do whatever you wanted around the Capitol because she loves you, and you'd be the hero-husband, who, no matter how many options you try, will always come back to the District 4 Girl. Poetic, right? Either way, you'd win."

Fucking hell. It disgusted him. Absolutely disgusted him. His whole life had been planned out by someone whose life should have ended ages ago.

"That sounds smart."

"I am a marketing genius, Finnick. A genius.", he declared, laughing as he wrapped a ringed hand around his shoulder and yanked him closer. Finnick grimaced and stiffened, and Snow reveled in it.

"It doesn't matter. Do whatever. Kill her, humiliate her, I don't care."

The thing is, Finnick had come to know Snow over the years. He loved brutal killings, only if they were a) fun, and b) profitable. Killing you would be neither, seeing as Finnick was now, in Snow's eyes, done with you.

He prayed that Snow wouldn't call his bluff.

"Well, I'll have to do that anyway."

What?

"Why?" The panic had begun to seep into his tone and Snow could sniff it out plainly. But he didn't care. Not anymore.

"You said you told her your whole sob story."

No, NO! Fuck!

"You realize, I can't let her live. Not after that."

He closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. "She won't tell anyone."

"How do you know that? She got her fifteen minutes of fame and now she might want more."

"She's not like that and you know it. Don't... I still do love her, and- and she has a family. Don't kill her." Please.

Snow, infuriatingly, never smirked. His eyes forever reflected contemplation, concern, even care, but never malicious intent. So, when he uttered his next words, his face was rife with softness. "She is beautiful, though."

Finnick immediately assumed the closest position to groveling he could politically get - he stood right in front of Snow, looking up into his eyes with a desperation unmatched.

"No. No. I will work double time. I will do everything the Patrons want, just don't... no, not her."

"I thought you'd like a bit of revenge. So she can witness your sob story firsthand. Though, I might agree with her on the stance that it's a mutually beneficial system."

"Please, President Snow.", he tried again. "Not her."

Snow stroked his hair, softly. "My sweet Finnick. How you've grown. You won when you were a child. But you're a child no longer."

"It's not fair. She doesn't know anything about that life." He's close to crying.

"What? Sex? She's eighteen. She should. And it's not like she's a virgin, huh? Having been with you, you beautiful creature, you."

"She hasn't been with-", he sighed.

"Well then, maybe you should get her used to it."

He'd thought that'd be the last thing he'd ever do.

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PRESENT DAY

It's been an hour since you've spoken to him and he finds himself desperately trying to remember what your voice sounds like. He doesn't want to ask you to say something because he's scared you will.

But he has to. Because you're out of time. Because Snow's coming for you.

He's tilting his head as you sit there, watching the sky through the window.

"I'm extremely sorry."

"You said that already." Your voice. Your voice, your voice, your voice!

"I know, but--"

"Who the FUCK do you think you are?!" Good, the rage would help the adrenaline, because your survival instincts better fucking kick in.

"Please, jus--"

"Who the FUCK do you think you are, deciding that YOUR family was more IMPORTANT than mine?! WHO gave you that right? To drag me into your fucked up life and use me like a fucking commodity?!"

"HEY! I helped you, too, I tried to make up for it!

You scoff, almost laughing. "How? By training Faye badly and not finding her sponsors, basically killing her?! Or by dragging me into your fucked up world of cameras and makeup and President Snow's little reality show?! Or by sleeping with...", your voice trails off.

No. That look on your face. NO.

"No. No, no, Y/N, no--"

"Is that-- Jesus, is that why you slept with me?! You thought you could have leverage? Or you thought you'd be so brilliant that I'd forgive you?!"

"Y/N, no.", he replies, firmly, trying his damndest to be calm, because he knew you were itching for a reaction, something that would result in a way to express your rage. "No, that was real."

You stare back at him, arms crossed, and he repeats. Maybe you didn't hear him? "That was real."

"What, I'm supposed to suddenly believe you now?"

He groans, his hands running across his face. "Please. Please, I tried to get you out of it, I did! But he's... Snow is coming for you, and I've got to get you safe!"

"My family?"

"They have time. He won't touch them until he's sure you're in hiding and he needs to draw you out. That'll be a month, maybe."

"You are the worst human being on this planet, and I hope you know it."

"I do. I do. But--"

"But what? Hm? But you had a 'good reason'? But your family was in danger? I don't care!", you cry out, and he breaks. Like, genuinely. He's not sure he's standing. He feels like a pile of broken glass, and he can't even warn you not to step on him.

"I'm sorry. But you have to get over it quick, because--"

"What?"

Shit.

He stares up at you, in absolute agony. That doesn't bother you too much, though, because the agony wasn't incited by you. It was directed to you. His agony is regret.

"What the hell did you just say to me?"

Your voice is not a whisper, but it is not a yell, either. You want yourself heard, but by only him.

"I'm sorry."

"I didn't ask what you feel, I asked what you said."

"Please, don't make me say it again. I take it back."

"What did you just say?"

"I said... no, please, let's just move on from this-"

"Say it again or I'm leaving." That was a lie. Both of you know you're leaving either way.

"Please. Please, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I-", he sighs, ready to fall to his knees, but he knows you wouldn't like that, and he doesn't want to guilt you into forgiving him.

You clench your jaw, and he clings onto you, pulling you closer to him as he kisses all over your face. You're about to break and he can see it. "I'm so sorry, I never meant to let it get this far."

"What am I supposed to do now? Hide?"

He tilts his head, nodding. 'I know a place. There's a rock formation, a cave, behind the waterfall. I've been fixing it up since I was sixteen. Y'know, in case I got old and wrinkly and the Capitol was done with me."

He really tries to ignore the hard set of your jaw and the way you snatched your wrist away from his hold as he snuck you out.

Yeah, he knew he fucked up, but for some reason, no matter what worst-case-scenarios you expect, reality is always, always worse.

══════════════════ 🔹🔹🔹🔹═════════════════

ONE WEEK LATER

Your hand clenches on the knife and you start up, before you're met with the sight of Finnick's hands, from behind the sheet of water covering the entrance to the cave. "Hey, hey, it's just me, it's just me."

After your hands stop clenching, it's your jaw's turn. You turn away from him and bury your face back in the pillow, pulling the slightly worn blanket back over you.

"Can you at least talk to me?"

You don't respond. You like Finnick, and you're not sure what words will come out of your mouth if you end up talking to him. Hurtful words, probably. Jesus, you don't even know how to be betrayed properly. You're still worried about hurting him. But then again, no one had exactly touched you the way he had. In more ways than one.

"Please? We have to go over our game plan, anyway."

"My family?"

"Yeah, in a month. You're not high-profile. So he's not too focused on you right now, so your family isn't being targeted. Yet."

"Yet."

He sighs, sinking down next to you, one knee elevated with an elbow on top of it. "Y/N."

"What?"

"You, uh...", he struggles, biting the inside of his cheek. "You are so much better than me in so many ways. You know that. And I know that. And I guess I'm just... I'm sorry, is what I'm trying to say. Sorry about Faye, sorry about the cameras, the makeup, the... the fact that I yelled at you the first night we met, I just... I'm not a good person. I know that."

"Did you reh--"

"Yes, I rehearsed that. The whole way up."

"Is anything in your life real? Or do you try to follow some script in every aspect of it?"

Whoa. He'd hoped you'd see his rehearsals as effort, not fabrication.

"Would it make you feel better if you got to hit me? Or something? Or... or, uh... stabbed me? I mean, y'know that's how Faye--"

Fuck. Fuck him and his stupid mouth that had an affinity towards his own motherfucking foot.

"You think I'm gonna stab you 'cause Faye got stabbed? An eye for an eye? You think I'm you? 'My family's in danger, so I'll put someone else's in danger, too!'"

Ouch.

He's never seen a bear in real life, but he's pretty sure him moving to grasp your hands against his chest so you can't move would be equivalent to poking one. But he does it anyway.

"Listen, you are the first thing I've cared about in a long time--"

"Besides yourself?"

"You think if I cared about myself, I'd be here?! You think if I cared about myself I'd be alive?! No, it's for my fuckin' family, and the next generation of tributes!"

You flinch, but he keeps going, shaking your wrists - and hence, you - as he continues. He's crazy. You could kick him any time, hell, you could even take him up on his offer and stab him, if you wanted to. He's crazy.

"And you... you just... you just got mixed up in it all, and it's fucking your fault that I gave a shit, and your fault that I fell in love with you, and it's your--" Okay, fuck. He's not as good as you at the hedging bets thing.

He can't really tell what the look on your face is, because he's too busy trying to look everywhere but.

The silence screams at both of you over and over until he paid attention to it.

"I can't handle you hating me."

It's said quietly, like an afterthought, like a gasp in a tempest. You wouldn't probably hear him if it wasn't for the fact that you were in an echoey goddamn cave.

"Tell me you don't hate me. Doesn't have to be true. I'm good at living in make-believe. Half the time, I'm on a tropical island, eating fresh fruit or sm'n."

He's rambling. He knows that. He's also acutely aware of your eyes. You're hesitant, and you're stalling. Or maybe his rambling is his form of stalling. What if you tell him the truth? Or worse, what if you actually lie, like he asked you to? Would that mean you cared enough, or didn't care at all? Fuck!

"I don't hate you, Finnick."

He'd have assumed you'd lied to get him to shut his trap, but the use of his name stupidly sprinkles hope into him. That sounded sincere.

"Really?"

"I'm just disappointed."

Oof.

"I figured after everything you told me, you'd value honesty and kindness above all else. If even you don't, then what do I expect from... well, anyone? Who do I trust?"

"No one. Seriously, don't trust anyone. Not completely, at least. And not anyone who's not me."

"Right, 'cause you're the pinnacle of trustworthiness."

"I could've just let Snow get you, you know? I could've just let it happen, because honest to god, Y/N, that was my plan! I was just about ready to abandon ship and then this stupid fucking- god! I started caring, like a fucking loser."

"That's the problem! I'd have understood if you left me in the dark, but what pisses me off is you gave enough shits to actually tell me, so why did you even...?"

He doesn't like this whole conversation. Feels like a figment of his imagination. Because, for one, you're making really good points, and he's at a loss, and that's never happened before because he's Finnick motherfucking Odair and people usually gush over him before they yell at him.

He lets go of your wrists, his hand immediately moving to your hair. His forehead presses against yours - this is the first time he's touched you in a week. "I don't need you to love me. You don't have to love me. You don't have to like me. You barely have to tolerate me. But you need to be serious when you tell me you don't hate me."

"I don't hate you!"

"Promise?" He's so pathetic, he's about to off himself.

You nod, and he kisses you. It seems like it's a script, to him, an actual script, not like bullshit they tell him to do at the Capitol, but this time, you respond in kind (why, he'll never know. Maybe you just needed a win.) , and suddenly you're co-author.

"I lied, y'know?"

"I know."

"No, not the big lie, I mean, I lied about not needing you to lov--'

"I know."

You're still hedging your bets.

And honestly? With the fact that you're kissing him while hiding in a cave from a psychopath president because he was too much of a pussy to stab him in the heart himself?

He gets it.

You know. That's until two days later when he can't find you anywhere. Not a lot of places to look in a tiny cave. So what the fuck? Where the fuck were you?

And then, his head tilts. There's a fucking white rose on your pillow.

Okay, maybe stabbing that psychotic motherfucker in the heart was long overdue.

He takes his camera. And then a gun he nicked from a Peacekeeper. What? He's hedging his bets.

[yannisdesk]

Arcane: Is it Copaganda?

I talked about this a bit on twitter, but I will type it up here and elaborate (we all know twt is not the place for longform content anyway). My main argument for Arcane being copaganda isn't due to the existence of Caitvi being Enforcers in season 2, it mainly has to do with Marcus, and how his contribution to the narrative is handled.

Arcane makes it pretty clear from the jump that Marcus is corrupt; he was more than willing to use excessive force against Zaunites who posed no threat to him early in Act 1, foregoes due process to strike a deal with an up and coming crime lord to take down four kids, one of which is possibly an age that's not even in the double-digits, then kidnaps a 15 year-old Vi, and throws her into Stillwater, a notoriously horrifying prison, indefinitely (life sentence) with no trial or records - all done so he could allegedly keep her "safe" (more on this later).

Marcus is then showed not only continuing to uphold his end of the deal with Silco, which includes allowing shimmer to spread throughout the Undercity, but also directly benefitting from it, becoming sheriff in seven years or less. He shows some resentment over this, but nothing to the point of actually going out of his way to do the right thing or change his situation. He dies, in a show of overt police brutality, trying to kill Caitlyn and Ekko for trying to negotiate peace for Zaun and justice for Silco's actions.

And what happens afterwards in regards to the greater implications this could have for the narrative addressing state violence and corruption, and how it's maintained through organizations like law enforcement? Absolutely nothing.

You would think Marcus, the literal sheriff, being involved in high-level conspiracy, corruption, and who knows what else, would be a wakeup call to people like Caitlyn who are Enforcers but are supposedly in it for altruistic reasons; and also possibly to the council and Piltover overall - "Hey, there's a serious issue with our law enforcement if the sheriff of all people could turn out like that. Maybe we should clean house?" I'm no fool, I didn't expect Arcane to do a police abolishment plotline because that would be a one-way ticket to getting review bombed by rabid "anti-woke" dudebros who never cared about the show anyway; but the Enforcers are not challenged or elaborated on in the slightest in season 2, if anything they get worse.

Caitlyn knows that Marcus, her boss, was corrupt, imprisoned her girlfriend indefinitely when she was just a teenager, and got away with it Scott-free. Had it not been for Jinx's bridge attack in S1E7, Marcus would've killed her, Ekko, and Vi who'd ran back to try and save them. And he more than likely would've gotten away with that too. But we never see her ponder this at all, not even in season 1.

We're shown Enforcers being horrible throughout first season. The warden, who is an Enforcer, brags about how many times he's brutalized Vi. We're shown Enforcers slamming a Zaunite through glass windows for responding with being called a slur with spitting on their boots, we're shown in the "Enemy" music video that Enforcers slammed young Vi and Powder against gates for random searches and how humiliating that is.

But come season 2? All of that is washed away. I thought they were going to do something with how willing the Enforcers were to use the Grey, but no, not even that's addressed after Act 1. No one from Caitlyn's strike team ever faces consequences for that. Maddie dies because she betrayed Caitlyn, and Loris is killed in the midst of battle against Noxus, but neither of those scenarios has anything to do with their willingness to comply with wielding gas weaponry against an entire population of people. Maddie spying on Caitlyn for Ambessa is treated as a greater crime than her actions in Zaun. Vi has the audacity of going around calling other people traitors as if she also did not comply and defend it. Same goes for Caitlyn, Loris, and Steb.

And as for the rest of season 2, we get glimpses of the Enforcers rounding up Zaunites and participating in martial law, which was brutal on the Undercity, but again, it's never given any narrative weight the way it was in season 1. Come time for the main characters to fight off the new Big Bad™️(Ambessa + Noxus and Viktor) all of a sudden the Enforcers are shown mostly in positive or humorous lights. Gert, who has spent most of season 2 rebelling against them because of their heightened tyranny under Caitlyn, is all of a sudden willing to join them and die wearing their uniform just because one of them behaved like a human for half-a-second. The show ends with Caitlyn and Vi being active members on the force, and that's where it ends.

I believe Marcus is mentioned possibly once in act 1 of season 2 (I'm not rewatching to confirm), but other than that his entire influence is dropped, which is just strange and unrealistic, and is a lost opportunity for Arcane to address this topic beyond the surface. You would think someone like Caitlyn or even Vi, or hell, anyone would at least attempt to use his story as inspiration for a reformist angle, but no, we didn't even get that. Marcus is relegated to a "one bad apple" cliche, which is when cops who get caught up with corruption or brutality are treated as outliers within the system, not reflections of the systems deeper problems; which you'd think with Marcus, being the sheriff, would mean the writers would take advantage of that, but no they don't. The other half to that "one bad apple" saying is "spoils the whole bunch" - there were definitely plenty of Enforcers who were either complicit, just like him, or even worse. But the writers abolished that for whatever reason and gave us this whitewashed slop of a plot with the Enforcers which was equal parts insulting and dissatisfactory. Treating Marcus as "one bad apple" is copaganda, full stop, and that affected the rest of the story. The Enforcers have not even attempted to reform at all; they've just wrecked even more havoc on Zaun and got away with it, and characters who'd you would expect to have something to say about that don't because the writers desperately want you to forget about this aspect of the story because it clashes with their "the devil you know"-centric finale.

[ecoterrorist-katara]

What do you think about the fact that Sokka became chief of the SWT in canon? Did Katara want the position? If she did, what did she think about Sokka getting it instead of her? And if she didn’t want the position, why?

hello!!! Great question. Oh man I am Not happy about Sokka becoming chief of the SWT…I think he should’ve gone to Ba Sing Se University and gotten an engineering degree and spent his life making cool inventions…

I do think Sokka is a leader, but there are many flavours of leadership and he strikes me more as a very competent bureaucrat more than somebody who makes decisions on the world stage. I think he actually could’ve made a terrific technocratic advisor to someone like Katara, who is not quite as detail-oriented when it comes to solving problems. Like if the Water Tribes ever had, idk, a supply chain or procurement problem, Sokka would be all over that. If we’re talking about who displays more traditional qualities of leadership (willingness to take initiative, comfort with public speaking, tact and diplomacy, willingness to hear out different perspectives, ability to inspire others), Katara has a natural inclination. They could’ve been cool co-rulers too, actually.

As for whether Katara wanted to be Chief: so! Great question! I think if anyone had ever asked Katara “hey do you want to be the Chief of the Southern Water Tribes,” she would’ve been shocked, then said YES. Unequivocally.

But: we don’t see adult women in any positions of power in ATLA, and I think that’s something that Katara subconsciously internalized. As much as she’s a feminist icon who’d fight Pakku, I’m not sure she ever thought about women in positions of political power. Remember that the reason Katara was so set on learning combat waterbending was because the South did have female waterbending fighters, so she knew it was a possibility, but she’s never heard even a hint of the idea that a woman could be a ruler. Even Kiyoshi Island, the girlboss utopia, is run by a man. The only time we see a woman potentially becoming a ruler of anything is when Azula was briefly made Fire Lord, and even then it was pretty clear that she was supposed to be a puppet. In the North, Yue was never going to be Chief and everyone seemed to have accepted that, and Katara doesn’t find it unfair. This sounds so stupid, but I think this is why it’s important to have role models, you know? Katara would 1000% want to be Chief if anyone ever told her that it was an option.

What I do find super weird is how Katara also never seemed interested in a seat on the United Republic Council, even though working with people and pursuing justice and peace is very much Katara’s thing, and we do know that the URC had at least one Councilwoman. I don’t have a Watsonian explanation for Katara’s comparative political irrelevance that isn’t extremely sad (i.e. she decided she’d rather spend energy on restoring Air Temple Island and raising her children instead of pursuing a career in politics even though Toph also did a whole Thing while being a single mom).

I think if the writers of the comics and TLOK had gotten their heads out of the “girl power = girls fight good” mentality, they would have realized that Katara would be an amazing world leader. But they didn’t (and to be fair they seemed to have also forgotten that Katara fights at all), and we must live with the dumpster fire that is Katara’s canon arc.

[purplepeptobismol]

Doctor Kenneth McCormick & The Beautiful Concept of ‘Love To The Point of Invention’

Okay! So I could not stop thinking about the dynamic between Dr. McCormick and Victor Chaos, and more importantly— chapter 13 of my fic… I’m sorry y’all. It’s just,,, there was so much discussed in this chapter and I just wanted to talk about it MORE. I wanted to voice everything out, even revealing some behind the scenes stuff, implications, deleted paragraphs, investigative research, and my thought process throughout the chapter. It was a long one; it could’ve been longer, but I genuinely forced myself to stop. Anyway, feel free to read my very own ‘directors cut’! Just letting you know ahead of time that it WILL be containing spoilers for Chapter 13 of ‘I Will Make of You’ and my one-shot (Un)Forbidden Love.

The backstory starts off as newly graduated Kenny and Butters, with Butters asking him to run away together. The reason for his hesitation is explored on (Un)Forbidden Love, but actually a big scene I cut out [and was going to be featured in this chapter] was —

The one where Kevin gifts his truck to Kenny and Butters. I was planning on hinting that Butters had explained his plan to Kevin beforehand, and had asked for his help into getting a truck of his own. Kevin, being literally the coolest person ever, basically told him that they can take his truck, and he will be gifting it to them. Butters and Kevin go back and forth about it, Butters being “no, I can’t possibly take yours! That’s unfair and selfish”, until Kevin hits him with the “I’m not doing it for you, it’s for him. We both want Kenny to be happy.” Obviously, Kenny doesn’t know this conversation happened 🥹, but caring older brother Kevin tugs at my heartstrings. I also wanted to add a tidbit where Kevin is helping them pack their things in the truck, he whispers to Leo to “make him happy and give Ken the life he deserves.” KILL ME NOW, I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!

—

Moving on past their new established relationship, we get the first hints of Vic’s negotiating skills. It is already established in the canon universe of the Post Covid South Park specials that Kenny is a very talented scientist who’s done all these amazing things— but we also find out that Butters (Vic Chaos) is the one that actually funds all of Dr. McCormick’s projects! I tried to mess around with this concept in my own story, but the one thing I always wondered was: What made Kenny want to become a scientist in the first place?

Love to the Point of Invention

I think there is something so pure, and so genuinely beautiful about loving someone so much, you’re capable of inventing something revolutionary BECAUSE of them. There are many examples of this actually happening in real life:

Kenny seeing Butters come home— fatigued and stressed from all the workload— it motivated him into creating something to help Butters feel better. And it not just worked, but someone actually bought Kenny’s invention. Of course, if it wasn’t for Butters [Chaos’s] negotiating tactics, they wouldn’t have secured the millions of dollars that helped them get into an Ivy League Uni.

Personally, I feel like Kenny truly is talented when it comes to being an inventor, but both in canon and in IWMOY, his main motivators where always the people he loves. Butters is also canonically good at running a business, and his Vic Chaos persona proves that he’s capable of getting some good money off of investors. Scientist Kenny who invents all these crazy things and Vic Chaos who invests, sells, markets, funds his inventions— It’s literally a match made in heaven y’all 😞, they’re a power duo!

—

There are a lot of other things I want to get into but I’m going to skip ahead a bit to talk about the main event of this chapter: Cooper’s creation! I’ve always headcanon that Stan and Kyle are more family oriented and the more likely to have kids first, while Kenny isn’t as caring about the concept. So when Kenny witnessed their joy and Butters cuddling up with a baby, it sort of planted him with an image of a family in his head. What really sold the idea was that conversation he had with Butters. Kenny wasn’t aware that Butters was having daydreams of starting a family with him until that very night 🥲, it once again motivated him into creating something that will make Butters’ daydream a reality. LOVE! CREATION!!

Now, the concept of bringing a human to life in the ‘non-traditional’ sense is actually very complex AND controversial 💀. I was aware that there were some negative views towards the study of human cells and artificial wombs, but I didn’t know just how bad it’s perceived… Bro, even IVF and surrogacy are still somewhat frowned upon. I’m the type of person that even if it’s not mentioned or come up in my essays, I still do extensive research so I can get a general idea of what I’m writing about. For Cooper’s ‘birth,’ there were three main things that needed to be focused:

The study of cells and how to make gametes of two people of the same sex to successfully produce a zygote (fertilized cell/embryo)

Artificial Wombs, how they work, and how will they function for a developing human fetus

The weekly development of a baby and what they will need inside a womb to grow/develop healthy

All of these things have their own concerns that required different forms of investigation, and it brought up a lot of moral dilemmas that I REALLY (and I mean really) overthought during the entirety of my research and writing process.

One

In real life, the use of animals for scientific purposes is controversial because, let’s be real— no one wants animals to be abused for humanity’s own desire to learn. Hell, I wouldn’t want that either! Yet, in my fic, Kenny does use lab mice and monkeys and it’s actually an integral component for this experiment. Personally, I do believe there is an ethical way we could use mice and monkeys for research; and that’s if the experiment doesn’t cause deadly risks and physical or psychological harm to the animals. You can let me know your thoughts! I feel like Kenny would actually be less empathetic about it than Stan, which is why I made him call Kenny out on it. Lol. Getting that out of the way, how would Kenny use those animals to reach his goal?

Lab mice are actually used to this day, and they’re a valuable species for the study of human biology, pathology, etc.. Mice have 20 chromosomes in their haploid genome, their gestation period takes on average 19-21 days, their genetic complexity is pretty low; there’s also low ethical concerns due to their rapid reproduction, small size, and short lifespan. Scientist already have a general understanding of their genetics so it makes the testing more straightforward. Kenny will definitely find more early success and failures during this section since the breakthrough can be proof that conception is possible with two species of the same sex.

I stated this in chapter 13, but the next animal they tested on was the Rhesus Macaque; they’re the primates most genetically and physiologically similar to humans. A single rhesus macaque contain 21 pairs of chromosomes, gestation period is roughly 166 days, and their maternal health has a big influence to a baby’s development much like a human. Kenny testing with these animals will help bridge the gap, enhance the technology, and address any issues that happen throughout the process. But since they’re pretty similar to humans, especially with their reproductive biology, it raises more ethical questions than with the lab mice. The failed attempts of gestation, fetal development, and the long-term health would be very hard to ignore. This step would take significantly more time and patience, lots of care will need to be taken place before ANYTHING becomes feasible. So once everything is overcome, then we could possibly move to humans.

The ultimate and final goal would be testing this technology with humans. Human genomes are extremely complex, they have 23 pairs of chromosomes (which is 46 in each cell), gestation is roughly 9 months, human embryos require precise conditions, and their long-term health need to be carefully monitored years after their birth. The testing of this would definitely be frowned upon by society. Realistically, we would need highly advanced technological breakthroughs to make this happen— it is very likely Kenny would’ve gruesomely fail this step many times. But I didn’t want to make him suffer the losses of his potential children :(, that’s too cruel. Besides, Cooper is a strong kid, and Kenny used his cursed blood to create him!

Overall, it truly isn’t scientifically possible for two species of the same sex to procreate because their biological mechanisms lack the components for fertilization (yet👀). They’ll probably need to reprogram or edit genes and cells to transform at least one male gamete into an egg-like cell. (I’ve sort of drawn inspiration from stuff like CRISPR-Cas9). Then, similar to that of IVF, mimic the fertilization of both of the cells, continue editing the genes to make them compatible, remove any harmful mutations that might occur, and ensure the embryo has the necessities for proper development. What I’m trying to get at is that either Kenny or Butter’s gametes had to be transformed into an egg so that Cooper could exist [and also Tweek and Craig for Emilio if you think about it] 🫢. Y’all can decide on whose cell it was.

Two

Artificial wombs are an actual thing being developed and tested— mice embryos have been used on clear rotating vials and they’ve actually attempted to use an artificial womb for a premature lamb who needed help with their lungs! When I first thought of using the concept of an artificial wombs back when I was drafting this story, the first images that came to my mind were something like the scenes from ‘I Am Mother.’

This technology was my main inspiration for Cooper’s creation because— really guys— how else would Kenny and Butters have a biological kid of their own if not with the use of advanced technology 😭??? Before I reached this scene, even as far back when I revealed the explanation back in chapters 2 and 8, I didn’t think much about this; truly, I wasn’t even thinking of making it a big deal. But then it was time for me to finish drafting chapter 13, and I decided to make more research on the concept, this video by Cleo Abram appeared on my recommended!

It completely changed my perspective on the concept and even made me want to tread with the idea more carefully. I really recommend watching it if you’re interested on what I’m going to be talking about. I didn’t realize how controversial or even the complexity of it. So, not only did I do research, but I also did a deep dive on motherhood and pregnancy 🤓….

Let me start with the negative conversations: The main issue people have with it is that this technology breaks the ‘idea of childbirth’ and the ‘beauty of pregnancy.’ Many mothers believe that it’s an amazing thing to grow a human inside of them, and they feel some type of bond between their child as they grow. It’s a sacred thing and ‘part of being a woman’, and they don’t want technology to take that away from them. *Though the concept of artificial wombs being an actual thing is purely fictional and theoretical, I’d like to point out that alternatives such as surrogacy and IVF are real options and even those are controversial till this day*

The positive side: some mothers believe that this technology could be a great alternative since child birth can be very dangerous to certain women whose biology doesn’t allow them to carry, or can’t conceive at all. Others simply don’t want to experience the labor. Pregnancy in general could be a very difficult thing for both the mother and a baby, this alternative could help alleviate those concerns.

In my heart of hearts, I couldn’t make Kenny be the one to invent this because honestly, he just wouldn’t understand; Heidi Turner was the best decision in my opinion. I always wanted to make her be a part of Kenny’s scientist team, and this experiment felt like the right opportunity. I don’t feel qualified to put my two cents on the topic, so I’m gonna end this segment by quoting what one of my friends said.

“For starters, I don’t want to have kids of my own, nor do I plan on ever becoming pregnant due to my own personal circumstances. But if I were to have a choice, I would like this to be one of my options. I have heard both the horrors and positives of what pregnancy does to a woman and it makes me not want to be pregnant even more. In the end, idk what the process would look like, let alone the aftermath of both my and the babies health. Of course not everyone would agree, and maybe there would be pushback for this sort of advancement, but I feel like we should focus on the idea of giving women more alternatives to choose what they could do with their own bodies instead of being self righteous about what’s natural or not.”

Three

Y’all 💀 a baby developing in a womb is really no easy task. We don’t know what happens inside a uterus when a baby is inside, it’s not like we can peek inside a womb, so we mostly just go by the current research of the weekly gestational period. But I tried my best to sum up how the process would be like. A fetus in an artificial womb would have to be in an environment that replicates the uterus. Nutrients and oxygen need to be exchanged, facilitate waste, hormonal changes that happen during pregnancy need to be mimicked, temperature and pH need to be regulated, amniotic fluid is important for allowing a fetus to move— well, pregnancy is complicated. Not to mention how foreign and disconnecting it could be for a baby to develop outside of their mother’s womb, that connection could be crucial too, no machine can mimic that warmth and feeling, and I made sure Heidi be the one to point that out.

Literally a single wrong move could be the end. It’s a very high level risk… This is a gamble with human life. Everything could go so wrong in many ways if they aren’t careful. Nothing about this could be considered natural.

No matter how you view it, what Kenny is doing is selfish. He is messing with natural order of life to have a son of his own with his husband. He knows this more than anyone else. That’s why when Craig also wanted to try to have a son of his own using this method, Kenny felt displeased. Craig CANNOT be having a spur-of-the moment baby fever, this isn’t something to FOMO about— this is a human they are attempting to create. Conscious human life. If they die in the middle of gestation, or they suffer long-term— it is entirely on their selfish fault. I wanted to add a scene where Kenny straight up tells Craig “NO” and that he wasn’t ready for it. It would lead to a big thing where even Tweek gets involved and explains his side and wheewww would it have turned out way longer.

Though this entire experiment was kinda Kenny’s sort of selfish desire of creating a family— it’s that LOVE he has for Leo that pushes him to invent this (love, invention…. *sighs*), and it was love for his son that pushed to save him in the end. It really is romantic and beautiful to deeply love someone 🙁..

This is such a heavy and interesting concept that I feel could bring on a lot of conversation to the table, I want this to be an open discussion so feel free to comment your thoughts and opinions. I also want to iterate that I AM NOT A SCIENTIST NOR AM I AN EXPERT IN ANY OF THESE CONCEPTS OR TOPICS THAT I’VE DISCUSSED. IM JUST SOME SILLY AND STUPID GUY WHO WRITES SOUTH PARK FANFICTION ☠️

—

Small little things I like to add from this chapter:

Craig living in Houston because he worked for NASA is so funny to me. Idk much about how they work over there but I do know that those roads and highways are no joke. Bro was fighting for his life in those 14 lane roads 😭. They always have construction and accidents too, shit is stressing me just thinking about it </3

Stan and Kyle being family oriented feels so right to me, and Stan getting cold feet because he doesn’t want to end up like Randy 💔 my shaylaaa. Idk what’s it like to be a parent so I hope Stan’s dialogue felt realistic 🙁. I didn’t want to include too much of how they adopted Robin, but I also wanted to give a bit of a recapped explanation that was somewhat realistic. Cartman’s death and the adoption happening around the same time would obviously stress them even more so I feel like anxiety is normal in the situation. It worked out in the end tho hehe 🫶, and it was thanks to this scene that motivated Kenny into starting his family.

Butters saying Cooper was “cooped up in there” and didn’t “want him to feel lonely” down there ☹️

I also wanted to add a bit of background Tweek being an engineer and more of Doctor Heidi Turner, but,,,,,,, chapter too long. We did decent amount of Heidi content tho, but no Tweek. He will appear in chapter 14 y’all 🙏Trust.

—

Anywho— I feel like I went overboard with this deep dive but if you have any input with the topics discussed or the dynamics between Kenny and Butters as Doctor McCormick and Vic Chaos, or literally anything else, please feel free to share 🥹

[dyns33]

Anything goes

I started another Cooper Howard's story and I'll be honest, it's hard for me to complete it, but I'll do my best !

Y/N had become little Janey Howard's babysitter several months after her parents' divorce.

Before that, her father and mother always found time to take care of her when the other was working, or they would entrust her to their governess.

This was no longer possible for Mr. Howard, who had to pay alimony to his ex-wife, while having a lot of trouble getting new roles because of the rumors surrounding him.

It was said that he was close to the Reds, that he was a traitor, even though he was a war hero, and the face of Vault Tech. He would have used this position and his wife's to obtain information and sell it to the Chinese.

Nothing had been proven, but it could explain the breakup, as well as the time it took to find a good babysitter. Many women were afraid to ring Mr. Howard's doorbell, not wanting their reputation to be tarnished, or wondering if the man had other dark secrets that could put them in danger.

There were also those who wanted to get closer to him to get information that they could sell to journalists, or have their names in celebrity magazines.

Y/N didn't care about all that. She needed a second job to pay her rent, she liked children, was discreet, and hadn't really heard about all these stories before Mr. Howard brought them up during their interviews.

Seeing that she didn't understand at all what he was referring to and that she was a trustworthy person, he was ready to give her the job. But first, Janey also had to validate her.

It was love at first sight with this child. Y/N had already babysat, and she had never met a little girl as cute, as lively and as endearing. She only had to say hello and give her her name for Janey to give her the most beautiful smile in the world, asking if she wanted to play with her and her dog, Roosevelt.

"I would need you on Wednesday afternoons, weekends and sometimes for several days but I will let you know in advance. Does that suit you ?"

"Perfect, Mr. Howard."

"Cooper, please. My father was Mr. Howard. Unless it makes you uncomfortable, I would understand. And if someone bothers you… Tell me."

At first, Y/N thought he was talking about his fans, his detractors, the paparazzi. Indeed, there were quickly new rumors, claiming that they were having an affair. Maybe even before the divorce, when they didn't even know each other at the time.

It took several months for Cooper to admit to her that he was mainly talking about the Vault Tech employees. He had signed a confidentiality agreement, in order to have the right to continue seeing his daughter and so he couldn't say anything concrete, but he knew things. They weren't nice.

"They might contact you." he told her while pouring himself a drink, after going to see the little girl who was sleeping peacefully. "To offer you money to find secrets or to ask you to leave. Being able to take care of Janey is another condition, and they are good at scaring away the babysitters."

"I'm sorry, Cooper. Don't worry, I'm staying. You'd be lost without me, and I love Janey."

"She loves you too." he smiled, looking at her with sparkling eyes, placing his hand on hers.

Since the divorce, he saw few people apart from his daughter, Y/N and people linked to the small jobs he managed to find, minor roles or entertainment at birthday parties.

There were still a few more or less loyal friends. One of them was Sebastian Leslie. Of course, he was also afraid of reprisals, but he had already sold his voice for the dubbing of all the Mr. Handys, ensuring him a pretty fortune.

His visits were rare, but he came with gifts for the prettiest girl in the world, and flowers for the most patient person ever.

"Miss Y/N, of course, who deserves all our respect for being in your presence so often and not having lost her mind yet."

"As always, you are hilarious."

"I've heard things, but now that I see you, wonderful Y/N, I know it's impossible. You can do much better."

"Thanks, Seb." Cooper sighed, patting Y/N on the shoulder in apology for the nonsense.

She didn't mind people thinking they were together. First, because people were stupid. And most of all, because she wouldn't have minded if it were true. She liked Cooper.

Sure, he was a little older than her, but he was charming. Funny, smart, kind. When they were all together with Janey, they sometimes did activities that made them seem like a family.

But she wasn't family. His marriage had had a difficult end, he had trouble paying her some months, and if he wasn't completely depressed yet, it was because he didn't want to lose his daughter.

It was a surprise when Mr. Leslie came knocking on her door, urgently asking her to follow him, without really giving an explanation. Sweating, worried, he mumbled incoherent things, when he wasn't yelling at his driver to go faster.

Still unclear, he took her arm to put a pitboy on her. Y/N had already seen them on television, or worn by well-dressed, very important, rich people.

"If you're asked, my dear, you are my adorable niece, my only heiress, with whom I insist on living the renovation of the world."

"… What ?"

"I know you're not an actress, but I hope that hanging out with the best of us has helped you a bit in this area. You'll have to be convincing, even if I'll be talking most of the time."

"Mr. Leslie…"

"Uncle Seb. Or Bastien."

"I don't understand anything at all, you don't…"

"Listen to me." he said very seriously, squeezing her wrist. "We don't have much time. They're going to blow everything up. I know Barb is going to take measures for her daughter, I know it. I can't do anything for Cooper, but he loves you very much, so this, I can do for him. At least the little girl will have someone sane to take care of her afterwards."

"What the hell are you talking about ?! Where are Cooper and Janey ?!"

All his attempts to calm her down seemed in vain, Sebastien ended up giving her a sedative, with the help of his driver. No doubt she was transported to the shelter while she was sleeping, put in a hibernation box next to her "uncle".

A very nice robot sounding like him was the first thing she saw when she woke up.

He cheerfully announced to her that she had been sleeping for over 200 years, that her uncle had unfortunately passed away, having woken up long before her, but having left a message for her.

"My dear niece, thank you for your patience and your trust. We always hear funny and stupid things these days, like the fact that I can no longer offer you flowers. But they are growing outside, I hear. And a little girl is waiting somewhere. There are fewer eyes when it's dark."

The message wasn't hard to decode. An apology, first, but mostly the assertion that it was possible to get out of the shelter without too much danger, if she waited for the right moment. Apparently, Janey Howard hadn't been placed in Vault 93.

Getting out wasn't that complicated. In fact, Y/N didn't even have to play the secret agent, she asked Mr. Handy, who passed her request to the overseer, who accepted it without resistance. She was able to take food, clothes and a weapon, before leaving, receiving encouragement from everyone, even if they didn't see who she was at all.

In any case, she was one less mouth to feed.

The real problem was surviving outside, and finding Janey. Y/N was not a fighter. She understood that there had been nuclear explosions, that the world was destroyed, now populated by dangerous creatures and unbalanced survivors.

But there were still good people. A woman showed her the way to Los Angeles, or what was left of it. A man advised her to avoid the North, explaining to her what the Raiders and the Deathclaws were.

And a strange couple offered to accompany them, to prevent her from being killed in her sleep or because of the mines.

Well, the young woman offered, smiling and polite, dressed like the inhabitants of the shelter and wearing a pitboy. She seemed genuinely delighted to meet someone like her, murmuring that it would be a change from her grumpy friend.

The said companion clearly did not come from a shelter. The radiation had dug into his skin. Y/N had heard of them, these ghouls. This one wasn't very talkative, his face half hidden by a cowboy hat, staring at her with a strange, almost shocked look.

"Don't pay attention to him, he's not good with people." said the girl whose name was Lucy. "I don't even know his name. We had a rough start, but he's calm now. We're a team !"

"Oh. Okay. Nice to meet you."

Lucy shook her hand. The Ghoul continued to look at her without saying anything, before continuing on his way. For the girl, it was a good sign, he hadn't ordered her to leave or caught her with his lasso.

Since things had changed, Y/N accepted that this could indeed be good news, but she followed them mostly because she didn't really have a choice.

[kingofterrors]

Severance - two in one

With the developments in the Mark S / Helena relationship in 204 we've seen the debate begin to really hot up regarding the ethical questions of having two people inhabiting one body - what that means for bodily autonomy, consent and freedom. All of which are nuanced and complex, and despite how hard we might want to boil them down to a binary good/bad explanation, I don't think it's actually possible. These questions are way too big for that.

But one reflection I wanted to offer is around the conscious / subconscious dichotomy presented in the show. Ben Stiller, Dan Erikson, and all of our actors talk about how both the Innies and Outies share a subsconscious. That this is where things bleed through - and Irving B's dreams are the key example of that. When he falls asleep in the office, these are the moments when elements from his Outie life bleed through - most catastrophically (or wonderfully depending on your perspective) in 204 following a full night of sleep and that incredible nightmare that pushes him into action. The subconscious could also be understood as the seat of instinct, personality, and drive - and again, we see this reflected in the behaviour of both Innies and Outies.

However, alongside this conscious / subconscious separation (in which we might better describe the status of the severance procedure as creating two consciousnesses in one person), we also have an memory / emotion separation. Petey talks about Mark S coming into the office with red eyes. He describes the process as "you carry the hurt with you, you feel it down there too. You just don't know what it is." So the concept is that severance cuts out memories - specific ones to the person, not the memory of which US states are which, or how to tie their shoelaces - but not emotions. So emotional hurt is carried from Outie to Innie and vice versa. But this also will extend to other emotions - love, fulfillment, satisfaction.

This rings extremely true to me as someone who works with elderly people, and often people with dementia. This is only a very superficial description of how some dementias can work, but in general terms these people are increasingly cut off from their memories, firstly short term memory, and then those longer term memories all the way back to forgetting how to die their shoelaces. This is why you might speak to a person who can't remember what they had for breakfast, and yet can remember in crystal clarity the picnic they had with their brother when they were seven. For these people, similarly to our fictional Innies and Outies, emotional memory isn't similarly cut off. These two parts of the brain are separated already. The hippocampus (memory) is separate from the amygdala (emotion), and feelings can be retained while the source of those feelings are forgotten.

This is one (of many) reasons why it's so important to continue to support, visit and love those we know who have dementia. Because although the source memory may immediately fade, the love remains. The feeling of safety and stability stays.

I just love that we have a show out there right now doing what Science Fiction can do best, exploring a real world concept in a fictional world that allows a new perspective on that exploration.

So severance might be:

Two identities / one person

Two consciousnesses / one subconscious

Two memory stores / one emotional core

Or an interesting combtination of all three. And the core question remains of course, as it always has, 'what makes a person'?

Bring on the nuance.