#those two get into all sorts of shit that way

[jasper-the-menace]

There are a lot of things I don't like about "modern retellings" of (usually Greek) myths - a fundamental misunderstanding of mythology, having little to actually do with the mythological figures and gods, using it as an excuse to shit on pagans like me, et cetera - but one of the most frustrating ones is that none of them are actually modern. Instead, they take the Walmart TERF approach to feminism and go "#girlboss!" without actually looking into the history of women during the time of those myths or understanding what it's supposed to do at all. They also don't even take place in the modern day - they're set in some sort of pseudo-Ancient Greece.

Like, okay, here. Let me outline what I'd consider a modern retelling of a myth, using the Perseus myth as an example.

Perseus is a college-aged young man still living with his mom, Danae, in the "big city" (fuck it, let's say Springfield, MO) and trying to make ends meet because they're both working two part-time jobs because none of the jobs actually want to pay for insurance or retirement or whatever. Danae sometimes meets with her best friend and coworker Clymene and Clymene's husband Dictys, who live out in the country and go fishing and hunting during various times of year. Dictys has a brother named Polydectes who is the grown-man version of a Silicon Valley tech bro who's, I don't know, into crypto and shit.

While Polydectes is living on Dictys's couch and ranting about how he's totally gonna be a rich Wall Street executive some day, he sees Danae talking with Clymene while they gut fish and is like "hot chick, gonna stalk her" and is all creepy about it. Perseus is not about that shit, so he starts trying to find a way to get Dictys to back off.

At this point, any number of things could happen. If you want a girlboss Medusa story, she could be, I don't know, a deep web or black market assassin-for-hire and Perseus scrounges up money for it. If you want something more lighthearted and silly, maybe this is taking place in what is essentially a Yugioh-style world where the fate of things lands on card games and Perseus uses a Medusa-esque card to kick Dictys's ass. Medusa could even just be a coworker of Danae and Clymene and overhear them bitching at work about Dictys so she goes to Perseus like "Dude, do you want me to help take care of that guy messing with your mom?" Literally anything could happen at this point.

You don't even have to erase Andromeda! She could be anything from a classmate of Perseus's that he helps out to his coworker that he protects from creeps to...well, again, literally anything! It's a modern world, she's got all kinds of possibilities!

See? A modern retelling would actually be cool as shit if people paid attention to the "modern" part!

[olvxva]

unspoken flames pt. II | joost klein x f!reader

part I

✦ wc: 3.2 k

✦ warnings: rpf!, angst, crying, nudity but nothing really descriptive, two fools finally sorting their shit out

✦ an: i had to use my inspiration and free time, so i guess it went pretty quickly lmao, enjoy <3

that night, when Joost closed the door to your apartment behind him, something inside you broke. maybe it was your heart, or maybe it was just your inner self that was torn in half after the blonde took a part of you with him, a part you couldn’t get back. that night, you didn’t sleep a wink. not the next night, nor the one after that.

the quiet sobs were the only thing that could be heard from your lips, as if all the pain you had been holding in finally found its release. the tears, which seemed endless, were only an attempt at relief that never came. you felt empty, alone, and yet, as if you had no right to feel this way, as if you were deceiving yourself.

Joost didn’t say a word. days passed and you sat in your silence, which was like an endless abyss. somewhere deep in your soul, you held a quiet hope that maybe he had changed his mind, that he regretted it. naively, you waited for even a single message, a single word. just one sign that you weren’t alone in this. but nothing came. the phone stayed silent and Joost seemed to have vanished.

it was pure torture. every corner of your apartment reminded you of your shared moments, as if every object, every detail, was a witness to your presence. no matter where you looked, in your mind’s eye, you only saw him - his smile, his gaze, his touch. in every silence, his laugh echoed, in every corner of the apartment, you still felt the warmth of his presence.

your thoughts kept returning to him, even though you tried to push them away. you kept searching for him, though you knew he wasn’t around anymore. every attempt to forget became harder, and with each moment you gazed at the empty spot where he used to be, your heart broke even more.

sitting curled up on the windowsill in the living room, you watched the crowded street outside. the world beyond the glass seemed to live to its own rhythm, completely oblivious to the storm inside you. people walked past each other, talking, laughing, but you felt completely disconnected from all of it.

five weeks had passed since that fateful night. five weeks with no contact. it hurt a little less now, but it still hurt too much. you still felt like you were standing still, stuck in a deadlock where each day was just a reflection of the one before.

the world moved forward as if nothing had happened, while you remained in place, trying to accept that nothing would ever be the same. from the flood of thoughts that once again began to gather above you like dark clouds, you were pulled by the sound of an incoming notification. before you could react, your heart skipped a beat. you reached for your phone nearby and tapped the notification that had popped up. as you saw the message, your heart instantly sank in your chest.

Joost: we need to talk.

one short sentence that in that moment turned your world upside down. you immediately felt a wave of emotions crash over you - fear, anger, sadness, and maybe even hope, though you weren't sure if you should trust it.

you flipped your phone in your hands, feeling the weight of the decision that now stood before you. your mind was swirling with conflicting thoughts. you knew you couldn’t ignore him. after everything, after he’d kept you in uncertainty for so long, you couldn’t just leave this without an explanation.

why now? why so suddenly? those were the questions you couldn’t come up with a reasonable answer to. so much had changed in the weeks that had passed, and though you tried to keep your emotions in check, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something inside you had died. maybe it was the end, maybe not, but what had happened would stay with you forever.

could "what was meant to be" still exist after all of this? you took a deep breath, closing your eyes, trying to gather your thoughts. you felt the unease in your body growing, as if waiting for something that couldn’t be stopped anymore.

me: where and when?

sending the message took you barely a second, but it felt like time slowed down in your head. the phone stayed in your hand, and you stared at the screen, waiting for a reply. each second dragged on endlessly, as if the world was deliberately holding its breath, playing with your patience. after a moment, the screen lit up with a notification, and you quickly read the message.

Joost: my place in an hour, i’ll be waiting.

the words were simple, almost devoid of emotion. you stared at the text, analyzing it as if your life depended on it. i'll be waiting. those words echoed in your mind.

without further hesitation, you stood up and decided to prepare. your movements were automatic, almost mechanical, as if your body had taken control of your mind. you opened the closet and began sifting through your clothes, trying to pick something appropriate - something that wouldn’t betray the chaos inside you but also wouldn’t look too indifferent. every little detail, every decision seemed bigger than it really was.

you were afraid of this meeting. part of you - the hurt and disappointed part - would have preferred Joost to remain a memory, distant and unreal. but there was also the other part, the more stubborn and emotional one, still yearning for his voice, for the way he looked at you, as if he saw something in you that you couldn’t see yourself. it was that part of you that pushed you forward, forcing you to grab a jacket from the closet and reach for the keys.

the walk to his apartment passed unusually quickly, almost too quickly, as if time was mocking you, shortening every second you could have used to gather your thoughts. the cold evening air wrapping around you didn’t help much either. your hands were damp with nerves, and your heart was pounding so loudly that you feared someone on the street might hear it.

you tried to organize your thoughts, the words you wanted to say, but instead, your mind kept circling around what could have happened.

before you knew it, you were already standing in front of his door. you stared at the gleaming number 12 hanging on the door, one you’d seen so many times before. you felt your hands tremble slightly, and your chest rose unevenly with every difficult breath. you slowly raised your hand, ready to knock. a thousand thoughts raced through your mind - what if he wasn’t alone? what if this meeting ended in even more pain?

finally, your knuckles met the wood, making a soft, almost shy sound. for a moment, the silence seemed to stretch on endlessly before you heard footsteps approaching from inside. your heart rose to your throat.

the door opened hesitantly. and then you saw him. he stood there, dressed in simple gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. his messy hair seemed to stick up in every direction. his face looked tired, and his eyes held a shadow you hadn’t seen before. he looked the same, yet somehow, he seemed like a completely different person standing before you.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. you stared at each other, and the air between you was so thick, you almost felt like you could touch it. you didn’t know what to say. every word you’d prepared in your mind had suddenly evaporated.

“hey” he said finally, his voice quiet, barely audible.

“hi” you replied just as softly, feeling your mind suddenly abandon you.

his gaze drifted across your face, as if trying to read what was going on in your head. for a moment, it seemed like he wanted to say something, but for some reason, he remained silent, stepping back to give you room to enter.

“will you come in?” he asked, finally making a step back to let you inside.

without a word, you timidly stepped through the threshold, your movements slow and cautious, as if walking on thin ice. under the watchful gaze of the blonde, you took off your shoes, trying to control the trembling of your hands that started to betray you. you hung your coat on the hook, making an effort to avoid his gaze, which seemed to pierce right through you.

the atmosphere between you was strange, uncertain. the silence that settled was almost palpable and you had the feeling that every word or movement of yours could break it in the worst possible way.

when Joost moved toward the kitchen, you turned to him and almost instinctively followed. entering the room, you noticed how the blonde leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. he looked thoughtful, yet tense, as if he didn't know what to do next.

"anything to drink?" he suddenly asked, his voice cutting through the silence, but it sounded surprisingly calm, even though you could still see the shadow of uncertainty in his eyes.

"no, thank you, i'm not in the mood" you replied politely, trying to sound neutral "i don't want to impose."

Joost looked at you, and in his eyes, you could see a mix of disappointment. he fell silent for a moment, as if weighing every word he might say. his hands slowly dropped to the counter, and his breath became deeper, as if preparing himself for something important.

"y/n, you know you don't have to feel like that… you don't have to be afraid of imposing" he finally answered, his voice softer than before.

"Joost, you know, sometimes what you say is easier than what i feel" you replied, your voice trembling in your mouth. you looked him in the eyes, but you couldn’t hold his gaze for more than a moment.

the man slowly began to approach you, until your chests were separated by only millimeters. his hand gently caressed your cheek.

you could feel your whole body tense in that moment, as if Joost's approaching touch had the power to break everything. his presence had something that still drew you in, something that made it impossible for you to pull away.

"y/n…" his voice was barely audible, as if he was trying to find the right words "i… i didn't know what to do. i'm sorry. i'm sorry for everything i've done and for what i haven't done. for hurting you. for leaving you when you needed me the most. i know it's not enough, i know it can't fix what happened, but…"

he paused for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. in your mind, there was emptiness, as if each word he spoke was some kind of spell that took away your ability to think clearly.

"i don't know how to fix what i broke, but i promise you one thing – you won't have to go through this alone. i want to be with you, y/n. i'll do anything to fix this, if you'll just let me. if you’ll let me back in."

you found yourself at a standstill. part of you wanted to throw yourself into his arms, to feel like everything was returning to normal, but the other part still feared trusting him again, afraid that you’d be hurt once more.

"Joost, you left me" you began, feeling a surge of sudden sorrow and anger rising within you "you fucking left me!"

Joost stood frozen, his hand slowly dropping from your cheek as if every syllable of your words was a blow that pierced straight into his heart. his lips pressed into a thin line of helplessness.

"i never wanted to leave you" he said, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions "i never wanted to hurt you. i just… i just needed to find a way to understand what was happening. you know how much you mean to me…" he paused, as if unable to finish, as though every word he spoke felt too small to carry the weight of what he truly felt.

"mean something to you?!" you shouted directly into his face, unable to keep your emotions in check any longer "if i meant anything to you, you wouldn’t have left me hanging for five fucking weeks without a single word!" you stopped, feeling your heart break all over again "you just disappeared, like we were nothing… like i was nothing."

Joost clenched his fists, his eyes filled with turmoil, never leaving yours. his face inched dangerously close to yours, but you knew you couldn’t let yourself falter. with a swift motion, you stormed toward the door, desperate to escape the pointless torment of this confrontation.

before you could reach the handle, he moved in an instant, his body blocking the exit as he positioned himself in front of the door.

"i won’t let you run away" he said, his voice trembling "you’re not going to make the same mistake i did."

you looked at him, feeling anger and pain begin to mix with something else - maybe fear, maybe the desire to understand what really happened. but you couldn’t give him that satisfaction. not now.

“Joost, move the hell out of the way!”

his eyes narrowed, as if the words you spoke were a blow that landed straight in his chest. he stood there for a moment, analyzing you, and you felt a wave of frustration building inside you.

“y/n, stop” he said quietly, but his voice carried something that sounded like desperation “i won’t let you leave, not without talking. we need to sort this out.”

“just move!” you shouted, unable to contain your emotions. you shut your eyes, trying to calm the rising ache in your chest.

“stay, i’m begging you…” his voice broke suddenly.

Joost grabbed you by the waist, and you felt his body suddenly sink down in front of you.

you stood there, staring at him, feeling his hands tighten around your hips. his breathing was quick, uneven, and his eyes, filled with boundless desperation, looked at you as if pleading for forgiveness, for something he couldn’t find within himself.

you felt as though the entire world had stopped around you. you stood frozen, uncertain and disoriented, with Joost kneeling before you, his face buried against your waist like he was seeking refuge. you held your breath, afraid he might vanish in an instant. your hands reached for his chin, forcing him to look at you.

“Joost…” you whispered his name, barely audible, feeling your hand tremble “what happened to us?”

you knelt beside him, feeling your heart pounding harder and your entire body shaking with emotion. without words, without thinking, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling his body close to yours. you wanted to feel him, to close the distance, even though every part of you screamed to run away. his warmth seeped through your arms.

he pulled you closer and your heart nearly stopped when you felt his body shaking in your embrace. then, in the quiet space around you, came a muffled sob, stifled against your chest. it was a sound that filled your mind, shaking you in a way you hadn’t expected.

you felt his body reacting to the pain he must have carried for weeks, as every tear fell down his cheeks, despite his attempts to hide them. you heard that sound, a raw reminder of how deeply hurt both of you were.

Joost finally lifted his tear-streaked face, and something inside you broke again that night. you knew that pain, you knew that emptiness, but seeing him like this now, seeing his face covered in tears, made you feel like something was shifting. maybe, despite all the hurt you’d both endured, there was still a chance to fix this.

“i love you” you heard his gentle voice, and for a moment, your heart stopped beating “i’m an idiot for realizing it so late.”

those words hit you like a wave, flooding you with a relief. you felt the weight of the weeks filled with silence and misunderstandings suddenly lift off your shoulders. you couldn’t stop the tears that began streaming down your cheeks.

“why didn’t you say it earlier?” you managed to whisper, your voice barely holding steady.

“i was scared, y/n” he said, his gaze locking onto yours “i was scared i wasn’t the one you were looking for. i felt like i didn’t deserve to be the one to make you happy” his voice trembled “and then everything got complicated… and i pulled away because I was afraid my feelings might hurt you. and you know what’s the worst part? that all this time, instead of fighting, i just let my fear control me. and now i see that was the dumbest mistake of my life.”

instead of searching for a meaningful answer, you simply leaned in and pressed your lips to his. Joost froze for a moment, feeling the delicate connection as your lips met. despite all the words he had spoken just moments before, this was what you both had longed for. the kiss was filled with unease, but also relief.

when you pulled away, you stared at each other in silence, as though both of you were trying to comprehend what had just happened. Joost gazed into your eyes, then took a deep breath.

“thank you for doing that” he whispered, though it wasn’t clear if he meant the kiss or the fact that you had let him back into your world.

you didn’t reply. instead, you rested gently against him, as if trying to convey everything you felt without words. just silence and closeness - expressing more than any explanation could.

“how about a shower together?” you asked after a moment, feeling the need to wash away the weight of all the emotions you had been through.

Joost looked at you, surprised, but there was something in his eyes that revealed the suggestion wasn’t strange at all. it was exactly what you both needed.

“sounds perfect” he said quietly, his voice still trembling slightly as if he couldn’t quite believe you were here, together, after everything.

he stood up, extending a hand to help you. Joost’s grip was warm and steady as he guided you to your feet. when you both stepped into the bathroom, the soft light reflected off the gleaming tiles, creating an atmosphere of calm. he closed the door behind you, and the silence that followed was different from before. it wasn’t the heavy, tension-filled quiet - it was something that gave you both space to simply be together, to be yourselves.

without a word, he moved to the shower, adjusting the water to just the right temperature. every motion he made was careful, almost reverent, as if he was trying to understand what you were feeling without rushing you. at last, he turned to you with a gentle smile.

“do you want me to help you?” he asked softly, his tone patient and unpressuring, as though he understood that you needed to go at your own pace.

“yes, please…” you replied quietly, your voice barely above a whisper, as you felt your heart slowly settling back into its normal rhythm.

it was a moment where you could let go, where you didn’t have to think about everything that had happened before. just about the now - him, you, and what you had in this present moment. Joost moved with deliberate tenderness as he began to lift your shirt over your head. finally, his warm hands traveled to the button of your jeans, and you felt your breath catch in your throat.

“it’s just me” his voice carried a soothing calm, grounding you in a way that reminded you you could trust him.

a moment later, you stood before him in nothing but your underwear, which soon joined the rest of your clothes on the floor. joost’s eyes roamed over you, filled with tenderness that made your breath hitch.

“please, don’t make me stand here naked by myself” you said with a small, playful smile.

Joost chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, before starting to shed his own clothes. you watched him with curiosity, your gaze tracing the lines of his body. when he noticed your eyes on him, he paused momentarily, a faint hint of bashfulness flashing across his face before he offered you a soft smile. his body was marked with tattoos, each one telling a story, each one a piece of the man he was. you loved that about him - the way his tattoos painted a vivid picture of someone unapologetically himself.

without a word, he stepped closer, his hands finding their place on your hips. his touch was warm, steady. the sound of the water streaming from the shower filled the room, but it felt distant, merely a backdrop to the moment. every touch, every movement, was careful, infused with intimacy, as though the entire world had melted away, leaving only the two of you.

you stood face to face now, completely vulnerable, with no barriers between you. as you stepped into the shower together, the warm water immediately washed over your bodies, creating a small, intimate space where there was no need for words or explanations.

Joost positioned himself behind you, and you felt his hand gently glide across your shoulders, as if he wanted to shield you from the world. you closed your eyes, letting the warmth of the water and his touch calm your nerves. all the weight you'd been carrying for the past weeks slowly began to melt away. you felt his hands move across your body, massaging it, each movement lifting away the remnants of fear and pain.

“you don’t have to say anything” he whispered, pulling you closer, so you could feel his breath on your neck “i’m here, really.”

in that moment, you needed nothing more. just the warm water, the silence you shared, and the feeling that, despite everything, you had both found your way back to each other.

"i just wanna say one thing" you started, resting your head on his chest "i love you in a way that's hard to put into words."

[val-cansalute]

𝙱𝙴𝚈𝙾𝙽𝙳 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝟶𝟺

summary: you haven’t spent the night with ellie since she left, and you didn’t think you would ever do so again. but now you’re here. and there’s this random ass dog here too ig.

a/n: LOLLLLL I DID IT!!!!! this is 75% yap but I swear it gets cute at the end plz just read plz istg

tag list: @diddiqueen, @amberputh, @fatbootymuncher, @sapphointhe21stcenturyposts, @jadelovesyou00, @ravyaryn

series masterlist

You turn your phone off, eyes fixed on that same blurry fleck on the ceiling as darkness floods back into the room. 

03:17

Unfortunately, those are rookie numbers to you, especially since that little get-together: the night you ended ‘things’ with Alexis over the phone, which somehow went surprisingly smoothly, on your part at least. 

Well, you hung up before gauging how she took it. The only implications were the incessant buzzes of your phone against the smooth wooden surface of your nightstand, now cluttered with junk accumulated during the past few days. Over the course of them, the buzzes slowed before dying out completely. Then came the silence, in which you were left to rot in your thoughts.

That day, you came home and embraced the emptiness of your bed after going so long with a stranger lying beside you, and you immediately began abusing the absolute tragedy of it all, using the breakup as an excuse to laze around constantly, take a day or two off work. The reality, quite clearly, try as you might to conceal it (which isn’t much), is that you’re not really at the appropriate level of impacted by the whole ordeal, whatever that would be.

Perhaps the worst part of it all - what you truly feel the most guilty for - is that your thoughts keep taking a turn towards Ellie. It’s like the area of your mind dedicated to her suddenly flourished with greenery and colour following her return like rain crashing down against the dry sands of a desert, and it has only amplified since that night. A constant reminder that the markings she left on the enclosure of your skull will never fade.

Maybe you should be annoyed - mad, even - about the way she acted. But none of the emotions clustered inside you come even remotely close to that. Too far in an unprecedented direction. 

But it’s not unprecedented. Not really. You’re acutely self-aware; you’ve always found it difficult to lie to yourself.

You think about her a lot, most of all about how she’s doing all alone in that house. You hope for a lot of things for her too. A lot. Things you shouldn’t hope for people you were supposed to have left in your past.

Ellie felt like dookie, which wasn’t unusual, quite the opposite. However, the reasoning was new. She felt like shit for that ugly thing that came over her, jealousy. She felt like shit because it was wrong to be jealous over the woman she once belonged to, the woman who also belonged to her, who doesn’t look in her eyes the way she used to, who laughs with someone else, holds someone else, loves someone else the way she used to love Ellie. Well, Ellie knows you love her because she knows you, but not the way you used to. There is a sadness there, a sort of pity, which irks her. It made her scared that you’d never see her the same way again.

And she wasn’t sure she’d be able to let the walls between you crumble even now, after everything. Still so on guard.

She wanted to do whatever it took to be part of your life: be respectful, give you space, be a friend, and she fricked up because you were supposed to be hers, and you would be, if she hadn’t lost her mind all that time ago.

She tried to ease the anxiety by texting you after the party, but when she looked down into the glow of the phone screen, rereading the words she’d typed out in apology, they seemed like the most laughable thing on the planet: rambles of incoherent, disconnected foolishness. She almost unsent them. You didn't respond anyway.

Tossing her phone aside, she picked up the guitar tilted against the side of her wardrobe with hesitation, and held it to her body, adjusting to regain fragments of familiarity. It felt a lot heavier than it used to, like the shadow of an old soul lingers around it, shaky fingers, greyed hair, gruff hum.

Her fingers strummed discordantly, in some distracted attempt at stringing together a tune, but no words came to mind when it was rampant with great hurricanes of guilt that dated back to times she didn’t even remember. A problem she couldn’t quite seem to rid herself of.

Now, she squats beside the dog’s makeshift food bowl under the porch light as fireflies flutter between the clusters of cobwebs bound to it, and she inspects the flecks of dust settled over the pet store biscuits when something clicks in her mind. The dog’s been acting weird. The barks have quieted to naught, he hasn’t gone outside to take his daily shit yet, and come to think of it, Ellie’s not sure he went yesterday either, but most importantly, the food has gone untouched. 

After a Google search, Ellie bounds up the stairs, scouring the rooms for him, and stopping with a thumping heart when she spots his dark coat flopped atop a rug dejectedly. She kneels beside him and runs her fingers through the tufts of fur, muttering,

“You not feelin’ too good, goober?”

A wheezy sigh fills the silence, almost as if in response, and Ellie’s brows furrow in worry.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner. C’mon, let’s get you to the vet.”

10 minutes later, she’s in Tommy’s truck, the engine growls but she realises she doesn’t think she can do this alone. She’s formed a weird bond with the dog, greyed coat and warm eyes. They feel homely in a way that makes her stomach churn and her throat tighten. There’s a slight squeak of the leather steering wheel in her grip as she tenses. 

Tommy’s out, Ellie’s not quite ready to see Maria, Jesse’s working nights, and a quick text exchange reveals Dina’s currently being knocked out by cramps.

She holds her phone in a shaky hand, glancing back at the dog who’s laying quiet on the floor and then looks back at the screen. It often hits her how small the number of people she can turn to is. Well, the list isn’t quite empty now. She’s yet to ask you.

So, with a thumb hovering over your number, twitching in hesitance for a few moments, she decides to bite the bullet and hits call. A few rings pass, each saturated with the increasing intensity of her heartbeat, and then you answer.

“Ellie?”

Your mind is foggy with sleep but you find yourself sitting beside her once again. The journey is quiet; you don’t feel the tension you thought you would. Maybe it's the fatigue obscuring your observation skills. 

She steers the truck into the car park and gets out, jogging over to your side to open your door and help you down. She grunts as she urges the dog out of the van and they scuttle along down to the entrance side by side. You smile to yourself at the sight a couple of steps behind.

Not many questions were asked during the short phone call.

“I uh- Are… Are you free - right now?”

“Um, yeah, I’m free, why? Is everything okay?”

“My dog’s not looking too great and I gotta take him to the vet, I guess… I don’t really know… what I’m doing.”

She has a dog?

“Okay… Do you… Do you want me to come with you?”

The receptionist tells Ellie the dog needs to be on a leash and she apologises before taking a seat.

The waiting room’s quiet and Ellie looks a mess. Her hair is shorter, choppier, just barely hanging over the curves of her ear. You remember it looking longer in the pictures of her while she was back in LA. She needs help fixing it up. You can picture her craning her neck in the mirror to snip at stray locks. Cute. She bounces her foot incessantly and the fidgeting doesn’t hide the shaking of her hands. Her eyes tell you she’s somewhere else - a place you think you recognise from all those years ago.

You know what she needs, watch her distant eyes flit down to the sight of your hand over hers, bringing her back to the surface. Baby steps.

When the vet gives the verdict, that the issue shouldn’t last longer than a week, injects antibiotics into the scruff of the dog’s neck, Ellie’s shoulders seem less tense and you set off home. 

There are thoughts that sometimes should stay internal, impulses you probably shouldn’t act upon.

But you love her. And you’re older. Less kind feelings about the concept of regret.

“Are you okay?”

She sighs, a slight croak in her voice but she smiles,

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. You-uh still living with Dina?”

“Mhm, but don’t drop me off there.”

Ellie turns to face you, eyes glancing back at the road repetitively, 

“What? You don’t- You don’t have to do that-”

“Obviously I don’t. I want to.”

There’s a slight pause as she looks over your features and then shifts her focus back to the road, whispering,

“Okay.”

Then, Ellie looks up at the dog through the rearview mirror.

“You scared me there, old man, thought you were gonna throw up on my bed or something.  Shit in the bathtub or something.”

You chuckle and she grins in that adorable way that drew you to her in the first place,

“I don’t know, dog’s are dumb. They do dumb shit.”

She tells you she just calls him Buddy and Buddy seems better already. He sleeps soundly in the backseat as Ellie’s fingers tap idly against the steering wheel. She glances over at you now and then, like she’s trying to make sense of the thoughts in your head through the expression on your face.

The door to the old house is like a portal to the old world, and when it’s open, you’re stepping into a memory. You can’t figure out if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. Ellie drops her keys onto the counter and moves to let Buddy settle in the corner of the couch, running her hand over his fur with veiny hands and tender movements, you almost feel a phantom touch down your spine. What it elicits in you seems a little dangerous. 

A worn pair of sneakers is sprawled out by the door. How the fuck does she still have those?

You take a seat by the dog and try not to sound too tense,

“How have you been? I mean… with everything?” 

It’s a loaded question, and she knows it, maybe too much so. Her jaw tightens for a moment, but she exhales slowly and settles beside you, her knee brushing yours, and, even though she’s very aware of it, she doesn’t move it away.

“Sobriety?” she asks, her voice careful. You nod.

Ellie leans back, resting her head against the couch. She stares at the ceiling, her fingers drumming against her thigh before curling into fists and imprinting crescent moons on her palm. Is she fighting the urge to pull away? She was always retreating when things got too close, too real. Your stomach is sinking.

“It’s… hard,” she admits, taking you by surprise though her voice is barely above a whisper. 

“Some days are better than others. I haven’t…” 

She pauses, taking in air like it’s suffocating to think about.

“I haven’t used anything in a while. Not since LA.” 

“Good. I’m glad, Ellie. That’s good.” you say softly, knots loosening in your heart, but you keep your eyes trained on her, analysing every little expression, every little movement. Her lips twitch into a faint, almost bitter smile. 

“Yeah. But it’s not just about not using, you know? It’s… so much… Everything else. Dealing with everything else… It’s so hard not to keep… chasing something, distracting myself, running away instead of facing it…

I fell into it so quickly before… I shouldn’t have… I should’ve tried to let you in.” 

Swallow, the memories are filling your mouth, and they sting your insides as they move through you, still sharp as ever. Peace is all you need for her. Peace is all you need for her. 

You don’t really go to her gigs anymore. It’s a wonder she still does them, comes home drunk out of her mind every time. 

It’s haunting her every day.

The door opens, not surprising. You could hear her fuck around with the keys outside the door for a while before a gust of wind washes over you. She rushes to the bathroom and throws up again, dry heaving because there’s nothing to come out but alcohol.

It’s almost 4 AM. You rise to your feet and crouch down beside her, rubbing small circles over her back and feeling the nubs of her spine and the ripples of her ribcage beneath her thin T-shirt. 

“Stop,” she spits out with a scratchy throat and through a choked sob.

You sit with her for a while, until she gets up and walks to her office.

The door closes behind her, leaving loud nothingness in her workroom. 

As you lay in bed, gasps carry through the air. You wish, with everything in you, there was a way to heal these wounds, but you can feel it sinking, crashing.

“We can’t change the past, Ellie. And even if it hurt, I don’t blame you for what you did. You needed to leave. And… I just wasn’t what you needed at the time… You weren’t ready for a relationship. Running was all you could do.”

“I don’t want to run anymore,” she whispers, her voice firm despite the tremble in it,

“It’s weird… You’re right. I think I needed to get away from this place… Being here… The posters, the books, the desk, it’s like I kept finding little pieces of… kid me. And Joel.” 

Her voice almost catches on his name but she looks at her hands and navigates the minefield of memories, so much better than she used to be able to.

“But looking at them now… I just… I feel like I can face it.”

Laced through her words, images of his face. Grief which rushed through her, mind, heart and soul. The guilt - the longing, that burdens her spirit, little by little, pieces dissipate into fireflies and fly away. Fragile steps towards being able to look him in the eye - the essence of him left behind in her life.

250,000 Miles is whirring through an old CD player, there’s a box of stir-fry on the table by Ellie. You’re sitting before her, laughing at her for pretending to know how to use chopsticks, and at the fact that she’s absolutely tanked at this game of Catan. But she’s grinning at you, and her chest feels warm.

“Alright, it’s literally 1 AM, we need to pack this up. I’m becoming delirious.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You scoff, your lips still curved into a smile, getting up to carry your dishes to the sink, “Shut up.”

She scoops the empty cans of cola vanilla scattered around the table into her arms and drops them by the sink to rinse them out beside you as you dry your hands. You catch her smirking and nudge her, watching her scoff and whisper,

“What?”

Ellie turns to you and her cheeks are tinged pink. You're grinning at her and she's smiling at you and it feels so natural, the soft curve of your back, the chub of your cheek, natural to fall back into that old rhythm; it’s so easy to forget that she isn't years back in the past, to just lean in so you can feel the warmth of her breath fan your lips.

An exhale catches in your throat, a sharp thrum in your chest as your eyes flit down to her lips. You begin to close the distance, but hesitation is inevitable. The fear of hurting, of falling into the ravenous love you felt before it's ripped away from you again.

Ellie doesn’t push, her eyes dropping to the space you give. She knows she fucked up. You have a girlfriend, and you want to be nothing more than friends.

“Sorry,” she mutters, her voice thick with regret.

But you need her to know now, that you want this as much as she does, that you need her as much as she needs you. That you miss her so much.

“I broke up with Alexis.”

Ellie looks up at you with those wide eyes.

“Let’s take our time, Ellie. We don’t have to rush into anything.”

She can’t help the way her eyelashes flutter, lips curve down into a reverse smile.

The couch is a tight squeeze with Buddy still asleep at the end of it. 

You told her you were okay with sharing the bed, but she insisted, not wanting to push any further after what transpired earlier. The living room is cold - must be a draught coming in from somewhere. She knows she won’t be able to fall asleep here.

Hesitant again, she sits up, and then makes her way to the bedroom, taking her place on the left side of the bed, facing you. And when you open your eyes, she doesn’t turn away.

“Night, El.”

“Goodnight.”

[soullessjack]

i’m probably bedridden until monday with my stomach bug so now is a perfect opportunity to start truthing about local-Lebanon-cryptid jack. for starters, i think jack would really fit those spooky Reddit videos on YouTube about strange encounters with people that were so strange it left the person wondering if they’d met something entirely nonhuman.

like, every time he’s spotted in town, he’s doing some relatively normal stuff—“grocery”shopping (if beer and candy bars count as groceries, anyways), hanging out in a diner, etc. nothing he does is out of the ordinary, and again he’s very friendly and approachable, but he’s still just. Off.

he always shows up seemingly out of nowhere, with no car or ride to be seen

he either never has any ID on him, or has ID that changes every time he shows up, with the same face and a different name (one that oddly matches a famous person each time, too).

he always has this underlying nervousness about his demeanor too, like he’s trying not to get caught with something, or like he’s trying to avoid the conversation going to a specific place, but there’s almost never anything that it could be. and then there’s the fact that, when it comes to anything pop-culture-y, or any news about the world, he seems genuinely unaware of everything. he could rattle on about some pretty dated movies he watches “at home” (wherever that is, bc all he says is that it’s ‘outside of town’ ), or the even more dated classic rock records he owns in his room, but he wouldn’t be able to tell you one artist on the radio or anything else like that. he talks about it all like an alien who just discovered what Hollywood is and is very pleased to be learning so much about the planet.

overall he seems too normal, too innocuous, like he’s trying way too hard to put on that appearance and is constantly worried that somewhere, somehow at some point the “illusion” will shatter. what’s decidedly strange, is that for all his lacking in most of the normal world, he seems to know quite a bit about everything else — monsters, the occult, magic, theology, crime cases, even dead languages and cultural rituals. he doesn’t seem like he ever went to school for any of these subjects, but he’s well educated nonetheless. whenever you get the conversation over to any of these topics he loses the awkward, cringy disposition and goes on forever. “how does he know all this?”you’re very likely to ask. “well,” he’ll say, with more of the awkward refrain again, “it’s sort of my family’s business.” but will he indulge on what exactly that business is? no. it’s one of those suspicious conversations you can tell he’s trying to avoid.

In fact, he won’t even really go into detail about who his family is, aside from the fact that it’s comprised of 3 other men all living out of town together, whom he sometimes watches old movies with on Tuesday’s. but the only people you know of that live on the outskirts of Lebanon are those creepy middle-aged guys with the classic black car and shotguns who are also supposedly serial killers. and one of your classmates, max, actually met them all — supposedly her meeting with two of the older guys involved John Wayne Gacy’s ghost trapped in a box, but she absolutely refuses to talk about what happened with this “Jack” guy. her and her girlfriend Stacey. as if that isn’t weird enough, on the occasion that jack happens to cross paths with the two, he supposedly goes out of his way to avoid them, but seems visibly more distraught about it. unfortunately, much like them, he won’t talk about it either.

all in all, ever since this “jack” guy and his “family” popped up outside Lebanon, weirder and weirder shit has kept happening. and not just deja vu weird, like. Horror Movie weird. creature sightings, the dead rising from their graves, whatever else you can think of—and one thing’s for certain. no matter what, that “family” is always at the scene of the crime, jo matter how much they like to keep their distance from the rest of the town.

[cpattersonevans]

A Love Letter to My Inquisitor

As my first ever post, I felt compelled to write a love letter of sorts to my Inquisitor Lavellan. I have been playing RPGs for a long time, but have never been very good at the 'role playing' aspect. Until recently I had always played Dragon Age as a female human, struggling to make decisions that I would not make in real life. Prior to the announcement of Veilguard I had not played a DA game in probably 6 or 7 years, but to reacquaint myself with the world I decided to replay them (starting at DA2 because my computer hates DAO). This time, I was determined to play as an elf for the first time ever in Inquisition...and romance Solas for the first time ever. I enjoyed the Solas romance. I knew going in that it would not be a happy ending, but I knew nothing of how it would actually develop. I absolutely loved this playthrough. So much so, that right after I finished it the first time all the way through to the end of Trespasser, I restarted a new game to play as Lavellan again, willingly choosing to slog through each collection quest (maybe I'd finally find that one last mosaic piece - I did not). Not because I wanted to relive the romance, but because I missed HER.

In Inquisition, my Lavellan was cold and stoic at first, angry at those who blame her for something she knows nothing about...she literally woke up like this. However, she starts to show her true self to those who slowly go from mere acquaintance to respected friend. She was somewhat tactless and blunt, not having much experience interacting with the human world. She was reluctant to accept the position as leader, always asserting that she is NOT the Herald of Andraste. Seriously, how many times does she have to say this! She continues to express her anger and reluctance when the title of Inquisitor is thrust upon her. She never wanted this! She gets shit done, always focused on the task at hand. She hopes that once she fixes everything, she can go back to her old life. Oh how she was mistaken. As time went on she leaned more into her Dalish identity and enjoyed making decisions in favor of the elves (bye bye Celene). She realized that, although she never wanted to be Inquisitor, she may be able to take advantage of this opportunity for the betterment of her people. Dorian, Cassandra, Varric and Iron Bull became her besties (Sera never stopped thinking she was too elfy). As for the romance. She (me) was not attracted to Solas at first, I still found myself very much liking Cullen (had romanced him and Blackwall previously as female human). I even laughed that Cullen is probably the one people would tell her she should be with, but Solas ended up being the one she was fated to be with. Over the course of the game she realized her attraction towards him was growing. The more conversations they had, the more missions they found themselves in relying on each other to survive, they slowly grew closer and fell in love. Plus...that voice. This relationship was different than any I'd experienced in a game before. It felt like, for them, more was expressed in what wasn't said...or how it was said. I could feel the passion between them. When the break up came, she was ANGRY. I will take any chance I get to yell at Solas in Elven. But, she had a mission to complete. She was fine.

Then Trespasser came. Two years later and still the leader of a massive political organization. How did she get here? She never wanted this. She could still care less about politics. Everyone, please stop asking her about Solas. She doesn't want to talk about it. She is fine. Except...she's not. The closer they get to Solas, the more those repressed feelings come to the surface. Solas was HeLpInG us with the Qunari all along! Face palm. I hated this delulu response, but had to do it. When they finally meet face to face, turns out she's still ANGRY. Cue more angry yelling in Elven. HE SHOULD HAVE TRUSTED HER. Not understanding the full extent of his plans, she offers to help. He won't let her. She vows to save him, this isn't the only way. Bye bye hand. Angry Inquisition book drop. Bye bye Inquisition. She never wanted this.

Now comes Veilguard. I will preface that I have not read any fanfiction. I have only been a solavellan for about 4 or 5 months, so I understand this influences my perspective on how things play out in Veilguard. I had no headcannon. I had no expectations for both the Inquisitor's reappearance and the possibilities of closure. I, of course, hoped her and Solas would reunite, but also knew there was a very strong chance one or the other (or both) could die by the end of the game, because Dragon Age.

I actually liked how Lavellan was portrayed. I don't think it's fair to judge how she has lived for the past 10 years based on the few moments we have with her in the game. I don't think she sounds pathetic or sad. To me she sounds, wise, mature, and like someone who has just seen too much shit. Her voice was filled with sorrow. She has had 10 years to ponder everything that happened during Inquisition, replay every moment, every conversation had with Solas. At first she was so so angry, but over time that anger turned into understanding, then forgiveness. This is not to say that the anger is gone completely, sometimes anger reappears when we least expect it, as it often does when we mourn what was lost, but it does not drive her. Over time, she learns how to manage it, to navigate it, to accept it so that each time it hurts a little less. This is the closest they've been to catching Solas. She finds a memory statue of his. She can feel him, feel that it has something to do with him. It is after this that all those feelings, emotions, start flooding back to her. She never stopped loving him. However, the world has gone to shit. She never wanted this, but knows her title, her position, still carries some weight. She steps up to lead once more in the South. To be the person that people need her to be. She doesn't fully express her feelings about Solas until after she hears about the events that occurred in Arlathan, that he helped save Dalish elves from Elgar'nan. Hope returns, maybe, just maybe, the Solas she knew is still in there somewhere, but...she has a world to save first.

The atonement ending is a great ending. I had no expectations, but I wasn't expecting this. I don't think a game ending as ever made me cry so much. It was very cathartic. Maybe because I had played all of these games back to back then straight into Veilguard, so emotions were high.

Lavellan was never going to turn Solas from his path on her own. Her appeals to him didn't work in Trespasser, why would that be any different now? But she vowed to save him from himself, and those that knew him from the Inquisition truly believed he wanted to be stopped. That it was his pride, himself, getting in his own way. She had to try, but this time she has back up. Solas is released from his duty, he is free. She reassures him that there is another path forward, together. Sure, she could have walked in there, spewing more angry Elven at him, but she is not the same Lavellan she was 10 years ago. She is wiser more mature. This does not mean that this anger won't come up later, but she understands that this is NOT the time for that. It's not about her in this moment, it's about him. It's about saving the world. She accepts her fate. Before joining the fight in the North, she made sure all of her duties were appropriately delegated in the South. When her best friend asks her if she will be leaving again after all of this is over, her reply - "something like that." She knew. She joins her vhenan in the Fade to heal both each other and the blight. I do believe that the Fade prison will not be as bad with them together. She will help him confront his regrets and one day they will be able to leave just like Rook did (Rook's regrets honestly pale in comparison, so it will take him more time), but they will have calmed the blight in the process. Someday they will be able to travel the Fade freely and visit old friends, both spirit and corporeal.

She left the world she knew, left behind the title of Inquisitor. She never wanted this. In Trespasser, Cassandra tells her "Being Inquisitor has brought you good things. Many good things. But only a few have been by your choice. Take what happiness you can from those, and do not let them go." And she doesn't.

This turned into a long post, but all this to say...Lavellan holds a special place with me - for not only being a wonderful, bad ass, protagonist, but for finally allowing me to fully embrace the world of role playing games. I have had an amazing time going on this journey with her, one I will surely repeat many times. I love her.

[alkhemeya]

The Magnus Archives, Episode 2 — 5. Thoughts.

Statement Begins.

I have nothing to do, so speedrun it is. I will put this in sections, because yes.

Episode 2 — Do Not Open.

1. Joshua Gillepsie, you drug man, I adore you. Why is he so smart??? Like, deadass would survive a horror movie. Such an unbothered king too.

1.5. Joshua seems to have like, that thing where you can't remember faces with how he describes that random man who gave him the money, and coffin (why was the guy called John??? Like, that's such a basic name). He may have been high as shit though. Which, yeah, I'd put it to rambling too, Sims.

1.6. Yes, I've decided to call John/Jon, Sims, until further notice. I can't decide on the name rn.

2. Zombies??? Does the coffin have Zombies??? ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN OT ONLY MAKES SOUKD WHEN IT RAINS???

3. Putting Breekon and Hope on the list for references. Same with names. I have a feeling ill see these names again.

4. What the fuck do you mean Joshua lives alone for 2 years??? HUHH?

Episode 3 — Across The Street.

1. GRAHAM GOT SNATCHED BY A BODY SNATXHDR ALIEN THING! Like the, fucking uh, Pod People! Yes!

1.5. Or Graham is me. I too also eat my notebook paper when stressed. And paranoid. And seemingly become some weird slenderman alien thing. That is normal.

2. The poor girl definitely witnessed Graham get snatched in a way. And those words? Oh, she is next to get fucking abducted.

3. The end statement implies that Graham was aware he was gonna get snatched considering his notebook. Also, doesn't seem to affect Polaroids? Maybe old tech? Though Polaroids aren't really old. Hmmm.

4. Note on Sims, I still love him. He's such a theatre nerd. Tim seems suspicious still to me, though, a flirt? I mean, if it's for information, respect.

Episode 4 — Pageturner.

1. Magic books??? Oh shit? Or like, midn control?? Also, who the fuck is Jurgen Leitjner??

2. Jurgen Leitner was a librarian?? Collector of sorts. Did he collect magic books? Also, Ex Altora. Like that name, spooky.

3. Another name to remember, Mary Keay. And her skin is all tattooed. Once again, keep a note on that. Will probably post a lost of people so I can keep track. Also, she has a son? Child? Gerard, but why is it said like Jared???

3.5. BONE BOOK? MORE MAGIC BOOKS? HELL YEAH SIGN ME UP. I'd love a book that gives me bones. Also, more about spooky Ex Altora book, there's two from the looks of it.

4. Michael Crew? Guys best friend, has a lightning scar. Didn't know those can scar over, and even in a visible way. Is he connected to the Ex Altora?? Guy was reminded of him.

5. Gérard is apparently shit at dying his hair (because if someone knows you've dyed it black on site that's a shit job) and just looks bad. I don't know why that's it's own note. I just think it's funny.

5.5. WHAT THE FUXK DO YOU MEAN MARY KEAY IS DEAD??? BODY SNATCHER? AHAIN? OH SHIT. WAIT, is Gérard an alien??? Oh fuck.

6. Gérard burnt the book. The guy seems to have gotten better, but what just happened??? Also, my phone keeps autocorrecting Gerard to Gérard. Sorry about that.

6.5. Really don't like that end quote. What do you mean your mother "doesn't always know vest for our family"??? SIR APPARENTLY YOUR MOTHER DIED BUT SHES ALSO ALIVE???

7. Sims! And apparently Jurgen Leitner is a bitch. And what does Sims mean about a true Leinter tome?? Maybe Sims is a believer in the stuff that can be shown as real?

Episode 5 — Thrown Away.

1. Doll heads? Kinda freaky. Love how this is from a binman pov. Those guys see some shit.

2. Paper? Catholic prayer too. Wild. Alan is weird. Why does he give weird vibes? Or am I just over thinking?

3. TEETH?? WHY IS THERE SO MANY TEETJ? LIEK, THOSUSANSS??? Okay, Alan's just weird, real. Also, STILL HUNG UP ON THE TEETH. WHERE DO HOU GET SO MANY??

3.5. Okay, police took the teeth. Maybe it's a serial killer? Or some doctor? I'm pretty sure some places, like dentists, have bags they put teeth in. I think.

4. Alan is going a bit mad. Once again, real. I too wanna know where the TEETH came from. And he got fired.

4.5. ALAN FOUND WHO HAD THE TEETH? AAAAND he's dead. I'm calling it. They'll find his bones and like, no meat. Just bones.

5. Not the rubbish bag that's made up like a present. That's just ominous.

5.5 Metal... heart? Did... did Alan get turned into metal?? WHY DOES IT HAVE HIS NAME. WHERE IS HE???

6. Sims! Again! Wow, he does not like Martin. Poor guy.

6.6 WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE TEETH WERE ALL TEH SAME??? IS IT POD PEOPLE? YHE THING?? WHY SO MANY OF THE SAME TOOTH???

Anyways. Love the end statements and how Sims does the voice over. Love it.

If I were to describe Sims in my head, it'd be:

- lanky and above average height (5"7)

- Albino, specifically, with more pinkish eyes then red. And very long shaggy white hair, like... uh... medium length and in a braid, like a French braid. You know the style. Can't explain it, just vibes.

- He also wears sunglasses, since, you know, albino. And needs to rake vitamins daily.

- definitely wears red and brown. Like, brown trousers, brown shoes, red turtle neck jumper with a brown suit jacket that matches the trousers.

- walks weirdly. And horrible posture.

That's Sims in my head, for some reason.

Anyways, final thoughts are... uh...

Definitely some weird paranormal shit is happening. Not sure about the books though, wild shit.

Statement ends.

[callme-holly]

Hiiii, could you do the Outsiders x reader who's obsessed with cats? Like, she's always petting random stray cats she sees and is begging to take them home. And I love your writing! 😊😊

𝐭𝐡��� 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐜𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐚/𝐧: I'm getting back into the flow now, y'all. Please keep sending in requests!

Darry Curtis:

Darry doesn’t mind cats; he’s never really had a strong opinion on them; they’re just sort of existing, you know? It isn’t until he meets you that he starts paying more attention to them. He’ll stop and watch you fondly as he pets random cats in the street, and he won't complain when you bring them over to say hello to them. He isn’t against having a cat, but he isn’t sure he can handle having one in the house with their current financial situation, so he’s pretty firm when it comes to you bringing strays back home. “No way. We can’t afford it right now.”  Maybe one day, when money isn’t so tight, he might relent and get you a cat, but don’t hold him to it. 

Sodapop Curtis:

Soda fully supports your love for cats and will stop with you on the street to greet every single stray. He’s the type to pick up little kittens and hand them to you, just to see you smile. He’s always up for trying to convince Darry to let you keep one and will occasionally sneak one in to surprise you, hiding it away from Darry and feeding it scraps from dinner. If you were to get a cat, he’d probably choose a stupid name for it and insist on carrying it around like a baby. 

Ponyboy Curtis:

Pony understands your fondness for cats; they’re quiet, independent, and make pretty good company. He often stops with you, watching as you pet the strays, and might occasionally get down to fuss over one himself, scratching their chin and ears. Sometimes, he’ll sit in the lot with you, sketching the cats and gifting the drawings to you. If you beg him to take one home, he’ll be pretty reluctant, not wanting to face Darry with the question. So instead, he compromises, telling you that you can go out and feed them, and that they can stay in the backyard in the shed. 

Johnny Cade:

Much like you, Johnny is naturally drawn to the strays, mostly from how much he hangs around the lot. He’s probably befriended his fair share of cats from all the nights he’s spent there and has no trouble going to visit them with you. He’ll gladly feed them and fuss over them, letting them rub around him and paw at his jeans. He loves how gentle you are with animals and admires how much you love them. He starts bringing treats in his back pocket for them, just in case you find a new cat to befriend.  If there’s a cat you’re particularly drawn to, he’ll help you make a little shelter for it and will go with you to feed it every day. 

Dallas Winston: Dally isn’t particularly fond of cats and would much rather ignore them than fuss over them. He’ll constantly tease you for fawning over the strays, but secretly he probably thinks it’s a little sweet. He’ll act too cool to care, but the more he hangs around with you (and the cats), the more he finds himself absentmindedly tossing them scraps of food. He might even surprise you by bringing you a tiny, scruffy kitten he’d rescued from a rough situation, tossing it into your lap like it’s no big deal. He refuses to take care of it though; the feeding and other shit is all down to you, and no way in hell is it allowed to sit in his lap.

Steve Randle:

Steve thinks your obsession with cats is amusing and never fails to make little jabs and jokes about it, calling you the “cat whisperer.” But, deep down, he loves the strays just as much as you and will do as much as he can to keep them safe. If you beg him to take one home, he’ll relent after a while, creating a little bed/crate for it that stays in the garage of the DX. The cat soon becomes one of those pets that hangs around constantly, sitting on top of the cars he’s working on and lounging on the backseat of his car whenever he leaves the door open.

Two-Bit Mathews:

Two totally understands your love for the cats. If the two of you are out together, he’s showing you all the cats and befriending them right alongside you. He’ll crouch down and call out to the strays, petting them and scratching under their chin. He’s probably the first to suggest sneaking a cat home, wrapping it up in his jacket, and carrying it along like a little baby. If a cat likes him more than you, he will rub it in and make your life hell over it. 

[yuckydraws]

I'm absolutely looking for Bear under that mistletoe (⁠ʃ⁠ƪ灬˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘灬)~♡

Anon, you are correct, and this made me laugh so thank you lol - I also will be writing these as if you aren't dating, just crushing on each other because it makes things a lil more fun.

******************

Gyftmas (what you've learned is essentially the monster version of Christmas without the religious aspect) at the skele-house was a hit. There's never a dull moment with this group, but a somewhat peaceful air finally passes through the cabin now that gifts have been exchanged, bellies are miserably full, and most of the so-called trouble-makers are blinking away a Gyftmas nap from where they're perched.

You heave yourself out of Bear's huge recliner that you sink into so easily when he himself isn't there to be a buffer. Flushing at the memory of being all snuggled up on it, you shake those thoughts away and assess the best way to get to the bathroom. Stepping over a few snoozing skeles, you head to the "safe exit".

You're very much aware of the mistletoe hanging in the entryway... you clocked it the moment you walked in and narrowly avoided walking through it at the same time as Vant - who seemed just as annoyed as you when he noticed it's presence.

The stairway up to the loft is an option... but you would have to use one of the skeles bathrooms and being that you're usually hanging out with Bear who's bedroom is on the first floor, you don't know the layout enough to confidently find a bathroom upstairs. The exit to cut through the kitchen is currently blocked by Edge's tall frame as he argues with Blue about what the best dish this morning was, and... you don't want to interrupt. The hallway towards Tilly and Bear's bedroom is clear, but the running water you hear from the bathroom down there tells you that Tilly slipped away to take a soothing hot shower - he was complaining about his back just an hour ago.

Your only other option is the doorway of doom.

But... it's clear... what are the odds that someone will walk through at the same time, especially after Vant's loud complaining about the tradition earlier this morning? You're probably fine.

Just as you reach that conclusion and make your way to the exit, from the other side, Bear turns the corner.

Shit.

Your face burns as you stare up at him. Confused, he tilts his head, parting his teeth to ask what's wrong - his skull knocks against the hanging mistletoe, causing it to swing and smack him in the skull a second time. Blinking, he leans back to see what sort of decoration is attacking him... only for that big ol' red eye-light of his to shrink in realization.

"Yeah... uh, it's okay I don't think anyone noticed-" You try to whisper discreetly, just for a chorus of hoots behind you to interrupt you. You avoid turning around, knowing it'll only make you want to cease to exist even more.

At a loss, you meet Bear's gaze, only to find him watching you with an intensity that you've never seen before. He bends, his large hand finding your waist... you blink in surprise, watching as he gets closer before closing your eyes in anticipation.

You feel a gentle press against your cheek. Peeking through your lashes, you catch Bear pulling away from your cheek, smiling down at you with that dopey grin of his and a deep rumbling purr in his chest.

"c'mon that was lame!" Midas breaks through the quiet moment between you two. You deadpan, about to turn to chastise him when Bear moves his hand off of you to flip him off. Snorting, you roll your eyes and excuse yourself, ignoring the fact that your face feels very hot.

[goron-king-darunia]

I want to open this by saying that I'm sure everyone put in their utmost effort and that their translations are correct. I am not chalking up any of my observations here as a failure or mistranslation on their part. I'm also not saying that just because the stuff in the event doesn't match my headcanons doesn't mean the stuff that happened isn't canon somehow or that the event should cater to me specifically or that somehow the people at Bamco don't know what their own intentions are. These are my observations and opinions and I'm petty as shit because I have been in deep with DotNW for years and I'm very precious with it and I'm sure I have nostalgia goggles for it the same way ToS fans have nostalgia goggles for the original game that make them overly precious with how the Shepherds of Regeneration were handled/mishandled in DotNW. With that out of the way:

Richter and Aster are cute as always of course, even if I do NOT get the direction the writers went with some of these lines. But it makes my feelings for Ratatosk even more complicated than they already were.

Ratatosk calls Richter out for what the narrative agrees is Richter looking down on Emil and treating him as a kid. Richter and Emil do push back on that and the narrative does imply that while Emil is correct that Richter is at least in part trying to keep his confidence up, Richter himself admits that he still sees Emil as the scared kid he met in Luin and not the man he became through their journey. So on the one hand it's kind of nice to see Ratatosk have something between paternal, fraternal, and self-love toward Emil, wanting Emil to be able to do things himself and shine and be his own person because that courage really earned Ratatosk's respect and he's glad for Emil to be handling things with his own power, even if that means "holding back" from using their spirit powers which Ratatosk considers extensions of his own strength. Emil's independence is something he agrees is better for Emil, even if he doesn't understand Emil's strange logic about it.

Like, it's nice to see Ratatosk openly caring about the other version of himself, the part he hated so much he made it an entirely different self, even if it reads a little bit like narcissism because, like. That's growth. Ratatosk cares for and believes in that part of himself that he shoved away before and embraces Emil as his own person but also as a valuable part of himself. That proves the journey he took in DotNW had an impact on him and what he considers strength and what sorts of qualities he considers valuable to foster in himself through his new self AND old self.

But at the same time Ratatosk is SO FUCKING MEAN TO RICHTER. And, I'm not expecting him to be friendly. These two were fighting one hell of a cold war with each other in their own world because they both had reasons to feel hurt and both had very valid senses of being wronged and wanting justice and that doesn't go away just because they got swept into a new world where at least some of the harm from before was undone. Aster may be back and (If I remember correctly) Kharlan or at least a world tree that is partly like Kharlan has been brought to this world, so like. Yes, the major points of pain for those two have been addressed but that doesn't magically make those emotional wounds go away. I get it. I'm glad they're not super chummy or whatever and pretending they're letting bygones be bygones because having those things unfairly ripped from them AT ALL doesn't simply undo what was done and doesn't mean they didn't suffer and aren't still suffering.

But Interpreting Richter's desire to, like, not have Emil drown or almost drown to death as "underestimating and looking down on" Emil or seeing him as some weak human or treating Ratatosk as some stupid weakling that would let Emil drown is, like, super uncharitable. I'm not calling it a mistake. In fact I do think it says something about Ratatosk for him to be mean as fuck to Richter. But at the same time, it just complicates how I feel about him because, like... I get that you're still mad my dude, but holy shit Ratatosk. Richter can genuinely care about Emil and implying that he doesn't after everything you went through is uncharitable as fuck, bro. Again, I think it genuinely works for the story, I'm pretty sure the point IS that Ratatosk is still growing and still has problems he needs to grow from because, like, being uncharitable toward people who are ultimately trying to help you is generally a flaw that people need to work through, so the narrative setting this up as something Ratatosk can still grow from, that he isn't just a stagnant lump that's done growing and changing, is good. But holy hell. I will never not find that abrasive, which is really sad because I know a lot of people including my closest DotNW mooties love Ratatosk a lot. And during his better moments I enjoy him, but holy hell. If they wanted to write him like a hate sink they wouldn't need to change much.

And then we have whatever this is. XD This screenshot is just funny as fuck to me because this is playing very loose with BOTH the implied canon of the game that Richter and Aster could have been "More than Friends" in DotNW because their relationship is suspiciously vague beyond, like, "best friends" and Rilena is barely a character (sad.) But it ALSO goes against the retcon/rewrite/technically canon compliant expansion of Onshuu no Richter where Rilena and Aster are, if we trust the fan translation, implied to be engaged.

Like, make up your mind, Bamco. Is Aster gay for Richter, Straight for Rilena, Bi for both of them, or whatever the fuck kind of nerd loser shit you're implying here where this absolute rizzlord is SOMEHOW STRIKING OUT WITH THE LADIES AND NOT GETTING ALONG WITH GIRLS?! I can't even tell if I'm supposed to read this as "so gay he doesn't know how to get along with women and Rilena is the tomboyish exception off-screen" or "so straight he gets nervous around pretty girls" or "absolutely insane rizz in mixed company but abrasive personality when left alone with a girl" or even "secretly misogynist somehow." Because I think we're meant to read it in context as "Aster is jealous that Emil pulls bitches and Aster somehow isn't or can't pull bitches?" Aster you pulled the baddest bitch ever by landing Richter, shut up! XD He even brings up Rilena in the next line but not in a context that implies he misses her company or anything more direct like "I miss my wife, Richter." Regardless of what we're actually supposed to pull from this about Aster's relationship with Rilena, Aster is landing bitches, I guarantee it. The autism gets him mad bitches. Don't lie to me Rays. I know your word is technically canon, but you are wrong. The council has decided but the council is stupid and I'm ignoring it or whatever the meme is. If we're meant to pull from this that Aster is not a hit with the girls, you are daft, Rays. Because either you're trying to tell us that Rilena is the only girl Aster could pull and yet later imply that he still wants to ogle other women, or that Aster is available, adorkable, and NOT PULLING ANY GIRL HE WANTS. Like, I'm sorry, these are bot absurd to me. Whatever you say is law, Rays, but even if I didn't already ship Aster with Richter, I would absolutely be ignoring whatever this is. Aster could land anyone he wanted, change my mind.

Also, Richter has a long beat of silence after this implying that Aster/Rilena IS considered canon here, or that he's at least aware that Aster is straight. But that only redoubles what I said before. Why isn't Aster directly saying "I miss flirting with my fiance." or anything more direct? Because being vague about it makes it sound like he wants to CHEAT. I refuse to believe Bamco treats all men the same way they treat Zelos. Aster is not a fuckboy, like come on. Also the long beat of silence for Richter implying that the gay love is entirely unspoken and unrequited oof ouch.

(Feel free to argue with me or refute these ideas by the way, I am one nerd and I built these headcanons in a shed out of the tiny scraps of content we got drip-fed before Rays was even in development and it's been a while since I completed the game and my brain is a sieve at the best of times so, like. I am once again not trying to say my word is gospel here. I am saying I have opinions and I want to bang out the dents here and understand what they were going for so I can adopt the canon stuff I see fit and absolutely burn the rest. XD)

Also, I don't know how to feel about this.

If it was only this, I might soften up on Ratatosk a bit, making a "concession" to hide himself away while Richter helps Emil so that it doesn't bother Richter. But pulling this out now when Ratatosk is offscreen and can't explain himself, in fact, doing it behind Ratatosk's back so he specifically cannot speak for himself, almost cheapens the stuff from before where Richter guessed, and Ratatosk basically confirmed, that at least part of the reason he was hanging back and letting Emil do things was because Ratatosk trusted Emil to handle himself and was agreeing to let Emil handle things on his own.

Waiting to bring this back I think is meant to be a surprising reveal like "aw, Ratatosk does care!" but because it's not coming out of Ratatosk's mouth and because it's being delivered as a different and separate idea that is phrased as though it negates the idea that Ratatosk was hiding so Emil could do things on his own just... cheapens both reasons instead of consolidating both reasons as proof that Ratatosk cares about himself AND about others and he's willing to work with Emil and even Richter to do what's right for Marta and the team. I understand this is maybe a little picky of me because "He's not apologizing the way I want him to" is petty. But coming from Tenebrae who is saying this without Ratatosk asking him to, is it REALLY Ratatosk apologizing?

I know Tenebrae divulges that it's Ratatosk's pride that prevents him from apologizing directly, and I know Ratatosk outright tells Richter in a different Chapter of Rays not to forgive him and that he wants a rematch as a sort of subtle "I can't say it to your face, but I understand my rash actions in our original world were wrong, and you're right to be upset and you don't have to forgive me and I won't ever ask you to and I want you to be able to see us as Equal now that I understand you and see you as Equal (thus worthy of a rematch) but This Is Me reaching out and saying in my own way that I'm sorry and that I'm saying it, not because I want forgiveness but because I owe it to you that I acknowledge my mistakes. I need you to know that you made an impact and that I understand and that you are heard."

But Tenebrae apologizing on Ratatosk's behalf and putting words in his mouth is just... again, really cheap to me. I believe genuinely, in what the narrative is saying here, that Tenebrae says things on Ratatosk's behalf because Ratatosk is too proud to ever say it. But it means way more for Ratatosk to tell Richter to his face "Don't forgive me. Keep hating me. Let that hatred burn in your chest so we can fight again someday." than to have Tenebrae here like "by the way I want you to know that Ratatosk is actually sorry and he just won't say it so I am telling you that his explicit reason for not showing up while you were coaching Emil is not actually because he believes in Emil and wants Emil to win on his own merits, oh no, he actually cares about your feelings and won't say it. Please ignore that he showed up earlier to chew you out for not believing in Emil thereby ignoring both his stated purpose of supporting Emil by going around picking fights with you and my own stated reason that he's trying not to upset you with his presence."

Tangentially, the fact that Aster gets called by the title "Professor Laker" baffles me too. I'm sure it was explained in a different scene and I just don't remember or haven't seen it. I'm not saying he couldn't have earned it but the fact that they're implying he was already qualified in his own timeline and just died before getting the title is really sad.

Also they are straight-washing him so hard in my opinion. Like, yes it's not explicit in the game, not even in the JP version as far as I'm aware. But the fact that it mattered so little in the context of the DotNW game and now both Rays and Onshuu are trying to prove how VERY STRAIGHT ™️Aster is is just... really funny to me. But him being this much of a lecher about it is absolutely insane.

Granted I pegged him as a letch, but for Richter exclusively and that sat better with me because at least in that context, they would have mutually been interested in each other. Having Aster who is still implied, vaguely but still implied, to be with Rilena TRYING TO OGLE OTHER GIRLS IN THEIR BATHING SUITS?! Unacceptable. I am contextualizing this as gay-best-friend behavior because I otherwise cannot square this with what we've been shown about Aster before otherwise. Unless THIS is the reason that for some reason he can't get along with girls. Maybe he doesn't get that this kind of comes off a little skeevy to, like, not want to leave an area because you want to see your opposite-sex friends in their bathing suits. It would be different if they were hanging out or if it was a little more clear this was a friendly thing. But it comes so out of left-field for me here that it just... feels like they forgot they were writing Aster and not Zelos? This just sounds like something I would expect from Zelos, you know?

I can buy Aster as bisexual, really I can. I would even concede that even if it never got brought up in canon that Aster was meant to be straight and with Rilena. Heteronormativity. Me preferring him as Richter's gay boyfriend has nothing at all to do with the canon and straight characters are allowed to exist. But a lecherous creep to anyone but Richter or at the very least someone else who is clearly interested in him back? No. My man Aster is not Lupin III. This is not a guy that gets excited for girls in bathing suits. I refuse. I don't care if it's canon, Rays, you are lying to my face. Maybe I'm being hyperbolic but still.

Again, I'm not saying they aren't making a purposeful choice or are wrong here. It's their character, they can write him how they want. This is just a really unexpected way for them to characterize Aster and I kind of DO NOT vibe with it? Am I alone in this? I have just never gotten the vibe that Aster is the kind of guy who would actively announce that he really wants to see his female friends in bathing suits when he clearly has other places to be.

And I say this as someone who has absolutely based some of my headcanons of Aster's behavior, including guessing ahead of Onshuu that Aster would be adept with a gun, on Lupin. They both have a vibe of "No active thoughts but somehow still geniuses" in their own genres. But the lecher quality is 100% never something I would pin on Aster. This guy likes mischief and a good time but this man is NOT Zelos Wilder. Even if I buy that Aster likes, tits and coochie, this is not a man that gets all hyped to see his allies in bathing suits. This is a guy who downloads 18 petabytes of porn on the company laptop like a decent human. This is a guy who feasts his eyes on what others deign to show him of free will and never stoops to asking for it. I will buy that he's a horny teen trying to make the most of his second life. But I don't care that a brush with death would fuck a guy up. Aster is not a creep. This is not a funny haha quirk like with Zelos, Bamco. Don't slander my boy.

NOW THIS IS MY BOI. This is not a guy who wants to see free cleavage, even from the pancake squad. This is a guy who proudly proclaims he has no athletic prowess like it's a TALENT, grins like a dope and announces himself as the hostage to his captors, and APOLOGIZES TO HIS BESTFRIEND/BOYFRIEND FOR GETTING MURDERED. Aster telling Richter to shut up about his feelings during a serious discussion and then APOLOGIZING because he knows that even though it was necessary to keep Richter's feelings out of it that it was mean and that it's important for Richter to know that he DOES understand how his untimely death affected him.

Even with how much I just do not get about what they were going for with the DotNW squad in this event, this moment from Aster was so good. Especially because Richter calls him an idiot under his breath because it was already water under the bridge and he's just happy to be with Aster. Their chemistry is just so bang-on and cathartic to see. Richter hiding the fact that he's enjoying himself behind excuses of having to tag along with Aster. Aster bragging on his behalf about how Richter's actually a nice guy who cares about and is good at taking care of others, even if he doesn't show it. Aster demolishing junk food during his break and Richter calling him out on it later like "practically your whole day was a break, all you did was eat yakisoba." It can definitely be read as brotherly or even best-friend banter, but my god, to my shipping ass, that stuff smacks of romantic chemistry. I'm so weak to them. Honestly, Aster's such a good hype man for Richter that I bet if he hyped up Rata, I would like Rata more too.

Also goes without saying how Richter fucking apologized for Alice being a dick when it's not his fault and then agreed to help Emil train up to beat Decus even though he doesn't see himself as an expert. We have the two other skits where Richter admits that he doesn't see himself as an expert in most things and doesn't understand why others would come to him for sword training, either, and yet when Emil asks for help on that too, he also offers to coordinate so they can train together. I really love seeing that, though unspoken, Richter genuinely enjoys spending time with Emil and sees them as allies. I doubt he's forgiven Ratatosk. But because they have a sort of truce and Richter genuinely grew to like Emil over the course of their journeys, he doesn't seem to mind putting up with Ratatosk because Aster's safe and he enjoys Emil's company. Not to mention him trying to learn to cook later when he notices Emil needs it.

Bamco may have pulled a lot of unexpected stuff for this event, but I'm glad Richter's whole "doesn't want to be thought of as a mother hen but has THE MOST mother hen energy ever toward everybody but especially Emil" is, like, a consistent thing. They just keep delivering. I love this soft man so much.

So yeah, as much as I don't get the direction some of these interactions went in, still my favorite Rays event and forever salty that global fans never got swimsuit Richter and the official translations for all these delicious skits.

Honestly, though, I am a complete freak when it comes to anything Richter. Short of completely assassinating his character, I would enjoy anything and everything about him so I'm glad he got to shine as Emil's big supporter. He and Aster doing their utmost to help Emil win because Alice went out of her way to be a massive jerk is delightful.

And while it's uncomfy for Alice to call Decus a slave, even when it's not meant that way and even though Marta still lays her affection onto Emil way too thick, it's a genuinely great display of the DotNW characters' interpersonal dynamics, even if I am utterly baffled by and disagree with some of the choices.

Translated by Polka. Proofread by Aera and Seine. Video editing by Scarfy.

[naamahdarling]

You know what? You know what I think?

I think that if we lived as we were meant to, in larger intimate ("extended family") groups and with more shared labor and time to do it (UBI NOW) people like me would not feel so useless and burdensome because there would be people around to help and to do what neurodivergent people can't while making valuable space for the neurodivergent to do what they ARE good at.

The way we live right now, all right, the way we live right now forces units of two adults to be able to do EVERYTHING or PAY to have someone come do it for them. I have to do the housework. I have to do it! But I am having to do a million different things and most of them I am not good at. I suck at them.

I wouldn't feel like shit, okay, if I had more than one other person around who was not a child and who could do the things I can't, like do the yard and cook and do repairs and basic maintenance; and someone else to split everything else that I like but is too much for me. It would free me to do what I am good at and enjoy. Cleaning, as in the sink and toilet, the windows, the blinds. Taking out trash. Folding, hanging, and sorting laundry.

But because all the shit I can do often relies on other shit being done first, and I can't do or have trouble doing those things, the shit I can do often can't be done. And even the shit I can do, I can't do ALL of it. So I can't keep up, and things get very bad.

We aren't meant to live like this. We are not meant to live like this.

That thought hurts so much because being able to flee the birth family is integral to survival for so many people. I'm so afraid that living in larger family groups would create more opportunities for, say, queer kids to be isolated, rejected, bullied, and abused. But if we gave people enough money to survive, and stopped considering children the property of their parents with no system in place to help them escape bad situations except a system that is often just as bad, just different.

I'm aware that communes and collectives aren't all that successful and are kind of a joke. I don't mean that. I mean a fundamental shift to multigenerational families where taking in "strays" (which my family did) is also normalized so people escaping abuse into existing households was accepted, with these families centered in maybe a couple of different larger residences so not everyone has to buy and maintain their own fucking washing machine and vacuum cleaner, and so people can benefit from large group meals that yield leftovers, and so child and elder care can also be centralized.

Then disabled people and the neurodivergent and sick and injured people, and pregnant people, and grieving people, would not have to either labor through all those stressors or consign themselves to living off an unlivable pittance or being put under legal guardianship.

I'm not saying anything new. People live like this in other parts of the world and maybe it sucks and I am wrong. But I'm just really mad right now because I can either do laundry or clean the sink but not both, and I really think we could improve society somewhat by making it so I did not have to choose one without sacrificing the other.

[vaguely-concerned]

even at this point in the story and with the romance well and truly confirmed it's very possible that lucanis has never seen even a sliver of rye's naked skin below the throat. very likely no one on the team has yet except possibly emmrich if rye got hurt in battle and needed help patching it up. high-necked watcher garb with gloves and all stay ON at all times. thank god for rye's sake that lucanis' history of romantic interest indicates that surprise bitch he could be kind of into that fhsdkjfas

[bucket-puns]

Old limbus women but one of them is my OC LMAOOOO

[the-elegant-necromancer]

Two bottles of rum, and one bottle of wine later...

Jaune: Man, fuck that old geezer! If this is what I get trying to be good then fuck it!

Cinder: Evil ain't any easier, like fuck, Salem makes me do all sorts of shit. I dont even get a day off, no, cant even treat myself because Im all wanted and shit.

Jaune: Really? Not even holidays? Thats fucked

Cinder: It is! Ugh, is it too much to have like a break? Can't even not be evil for a day, that crazy witch is way too paranoid. Maybe, Salem, if I got a few vacation days you wouldn't think I'd ditch you at the drop of a hat!

Jaune: Like thats shit, like really, they use me as a tank like its an rpg. Like cool, I love getting beaten all the time, yes please, harder please, no I can take it, I'm not resentful cause it hurts like hell, naww. Fuck you Ruby, bitch barely has to take a hit with that OP speed.

Cinder & Jaune *They stare at each other for a while till they both bust out laughing *

Jaune: Hey ya know that nighty is really something on you, like, I'm going to sound like an ass, you look really hot in that.

Cinder: *Laughing* And you don't look half bad in those pj's, now I'm going to sound like a thirsty bitch but, they let me see all the right things, and, not bad.

Jaune: *Laughing* You make it sound like you want to fuck me or something

Cinder: And if I do?

Jaune: I whu? No, thats the rum talking!

Cinder: Hah, if anything its this wine. Its not half bad. Question still stands, if I do want to fuck you?

Jaune: I mean tonight couldn't get worse, might as well make the best out of it?

Cinder: Oh don't be like that, now come here. Vacuo may be a desert but I'm sure you can give me a white Christmas~

Jaune: Only if you help me make it to #1 on the, Naughty List.

Both Team RWBY and _NRO would come to find Cinder and Jaune curled up together on the couch in a lovers embrace. Devoid of any clothing only a single blanket covering the two of them. No one really knew what to do, only chalking it up to a Christmas miracle, sort of?

*In Vacuo common room, one winter night*

Jaune: Sigh... I can't sleep.

*loud noise in the chimney*

Jaune: What the...

*bunch of packets drop into the room*

Jaune: You gotta be kidding me...

*person drops into the room*

Jaune: Are you... Santa?

Cinder: *coughing* you wish... idiot.

Jaune: Cinder! *reaches for a sword, realizes he is in pajamas* What are you trying to do?

Cinder: *coughing* Plan? Fat bearded maniac threw me in the chimney and you think this is some kind of plan?

Jaune: Santa threw you in the chimney? You can't be serious.

Cinder: I wouldn't joke about something like that. See. *shows letter attached to her nightie* It says here, for June.

Jaune: It's Jaune. *snatches letter away from her* Why would Santa send me you?

Cinder: I suppose he knows you want to defeat me and thought bringing me here in a nightie was your best bet. But don't delude yourself, I don't need a blade to beat you Arc.

Jaune: *reads the letter* Dear Jaune, you are without a doubt one of the worst people on this Gods forsaken planet. Every breath you take is stolen from someone more worthy. Your life serves zero purpose, you should have stayed back there. I would have brought you the world's biggest piece of coal but you don't even deserve that. Here is bag of Cinder for you, he he. Hate from... Santa.

Cinder: I stand corrected. Old man has wicked sense of humor.

Jaune: What is this?! *continues reading* None of this makes any sense. He is accusing me of murder in cold blood, theft, ship sinking... whatever that is.

Cinder: Fufufu. But it's true. Didn't you steal an Atlesian airship to reach it?

Jaune: I did, but it was group effort *reads Ruby's letter* See! See! He is praising Ruby the entire letter! He is picking on me!

Cinder: Oh dear, how tragic. *rummages through kitchen* Anything to drink here?

Jaune: Santa is hating on me! I am number 2 on the naughty list! He thinks I am worse than pretty much anyone on this planet.

Cinder: I am number 1 by the way. *takes a sip of cocoa* Hmm, this won't do. *adds a cup of rum*

Jaune: Santa thinks I'm worse than Salem? Just great... *sits on a couch*

Cinder: Want some?

Jaune: At this point that's just rum with cocoa flavor.

Cinder: Santa exists, he hates you and brought me to you as a punishment.

Jaune: Give me that. *takes a swig* How do you deal with all that hate?

Cinder: I just continue going forward, that's the only thing you can do. Spite them with your continuous existence.

Jaune: That sounds tiring.

Cinder: Hating is more tiring than just existing.

Jaune: I suppose that's true... Cheers.

Cinder: Cheers.

[buddietommys]

"Why not?"

"I wish you were a girl."

[capricioussun]

Luck and Cue!! I love those guys!

I'll start with what they do! Cue handles the more professional stuff, and inner workings of the family, while Luck is more like an ambassador, checking in on local business they're "partnered" with, befriending even those they're not, doing his best to make Aster a name with predominantly positive association for most.

Honestly not too dissimilar to how the Mafiafell brothers' work dynamic functions, too, except Cue handles the more official publicity type of stuff, and Luck usually handles the, uh. "Sensitive matters".

As for their relationship, it's still pretty good, if maybe a bit more distant than classic US. They do still look out for each other, that loyalty is absolutely still there, but things are just...a little stilted between them. Almost not as close as brothers, sort of more like very good old friends, but not entirely. A little hard to explain, but they do know each other very well, even with the rift that'd grown after having the torch passed to them.

Luck is a bit of a brat and loves to do things for the sole purpose of annoying Cue, however he learned very early on Cue wouldn't bail him out if he really wanted to teach him a lesson and is careful about taking things "too far".

Cue, while caring deeply for his brother, feels like entertaining his more rebellious nature is just coddling or humoring him, and he doesn't want to encourage that, so he can be a bit hard on him, but whose to say that isn't deserved?

They tend to step on each others toes, and neither really wanted to live this kind of life and sort of had it forced on them unexpectedly, but they cope with that in entirely different ways. Though it's still significantly better for both than it'd be if either had to do it alone, that's for sure

[lecliss]

I'll never be able to take the theory that Vincent is Sephiroth's real father seriously cuz I cannot stress enough how important I think it is to the plot that Vincent wanted to fuck Lucrecia and did not get to.