#well maybe writing the post itself doesn’t feel like that but finally coming to that conclusion felt like that :-P

[323cutie]

3:03 am | choi san

fluff. 600 words.

a/n ik milan fashion week is over but i started writing this when it was still a thing . I miss sannie

You weren’t really expecting to call San tonight – especially not at this time. It’s late for you, and you’re almost entirely sure he’s still at the Dolce and Gabbana event he’s in Italy for. 

But you can’t sleep. And it may or may not be related to the fact that he’s in Italy to begin with.

So you take a chance – as the phone rings, you try not to get your hopes up. If he doesn’t answer, you’ll just have to try a couple more melatonin gummies, or maybe a warm cup of tea, or maybe you’ll just doom scroll until you finally feel tired enough, but you have work tomorrow so any sleep would be better than nothing –

“Hello?” San’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and you feel all the tension in your body disappear completely. A gentle comfort, and familiar sound. 

“Hey,” you respond, voice a little breathless. You feel silly, emotional at the sound of his voice alone. “You still at that event? I’m not interrupting, am I?”

You can practically see the way he shakes his head. “No, we just got back to the hotel,” he says. There’s a pause, then a slight ruffle of sheets on his end, and then he asks, “everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer, immediate. And it’s not entirely a lie… but you hope he leaves it be anyways. You change the subject quickly. “Saw the pictures you posted.”

San humors you, offering a soft laugh (you wish you could hear it in your room with you). “Did you like them?” 

You nod, but remember he can’t see you, then hum in agreement. Rolling over from your back to your side, you put your phone on top of the pillow next to you. “You look pretty,” you tell him, voice gentle.

He does. All sunkissed skin and beautiful fabrics, he looks like he belongs, a piece of him meant to be in the heart of Italy. He looks lovely in that all-white suit, tailored perfectly to his proportions, an air of elegance around him. But you think your favorite post so far is the one he made when he first arrived – your Sannie, casual and sleek, warm and sweet. Glowing in the streets of Milan.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” San asks suddenly. “It’s way late for you, baby.” 

San sounds so tender, and you wish he was here with you. Fingers interlocked with yours in the dark, safe in his hold, sound asleep. You want to run your hands through his hair and look into his eyes and kiss him. Want to hear his pretty voice without the buffer of a speaker on a phone.

“Can’t sleep,” you tell him honestly. You wrap yourself tighter in your blankets. “...I miss you, you know.”

You thought saying it out loud would help, but the longing you feel only pulls itself tighter, connected to both you and San. Taut and painful, like an exposed nerve, an almost physical ache. There’s quiet on the other end of the call, and you wonder if maybe it dropped –

“Oh, sweetheart,” San murmurs, his voice so warm. “I miss you more.”

You feel unravelled with care, heart pounding at his words despite being with him for so long now. It makes your face hot and you feel the well of tears in your eyes – you sniff and San laughs, but it’s only fond. “I’ll be home soon,” he says, “Okay? Just wait a little longer.”

A noise of agreement leaves you because you’re afraid if you speak it’ll all come rushing out, but you take a deep breath and try to remember the smell of his cologne and the different colors in his eyes. You swear you feel a ghost of a touch from his hands.

“‘Kay,” you eventually respond. The world is a little blurry around the edges of your eyesight, your limbs heavy. “I love you.”

San’s response is immediate, and you manage to catch it before you drift off completely; his voice reaches you from across the world as he says, “I love you too.”

[new-revenant]

During patrol Nightwing found a handmade doll that resembled his hero persona, this wouldn't be so weird if it weren't for the fact that he finds dolls resembling the other members of the batfam's hero personas scattered in odd spots throughout Gotham and Bludhaven. The weirdest thing happens when one night he finds a doll of someone he doesn't recognize. It's a pale teen with white hair and bright green button eyes wearing what looks like a black and white hazmat suit. Nightwing picks it up and the doll immediately bursts into Lazarus green flames. Nightwing finally decided to tell the fam about the dolls not knowing that Phantom, who was sealed in a sarcophagus by treacherous observents several years prior, was now awake. The problem is that the sarcophagus is in the batcave as a trophy, needless to say everyone was surprised when the lid suddenly blew off and out stepped a teenager. Danny is a mix of anger and confusion because this definitely isn't Amity Park

You know. This is almost the exact plot of another, non-dp-related-AU I’ve seen. It’s @/ovegakart doll AU, it’s an AU of Linked Universe, which is itself a LoZ AU where a bunch of Links have come together across time because reasons I won’t get into. In the second ever LoZ game, Adventure of Link, there are these dolls that are scattered across the map. They give you an extra life. So, in ovegakart’s AU, the Link from the first game and AoL(it the same link)finds dolls of himself and the other Links while in his own time. Then, in a well, he finds a doll of a Link none of them have ever seen before. He picks it up and it bursts into flames. I checked, that’s what happened, here is a link to the page. Oh, and Nightwing not telling his family about the dolls until he gets Danny’s? The same thing happened in this AU, where AoL Link doesn’t tell the other Links about the dolls until he comes across the mysterious Link doll. That mystery Link is the First Hero btw, he’s from the Skyward Sword manga.

I would’ve liked it if you, I dunno, credited the idea? Or at least make it not so obvious by changing the doll into something else? Or make it so that Nightwing only finds a Danny doll? Maybe have it melt into ectoplasm even? I have a couple posts already about how I’m a LU fan on here, and if you’ve seen that before, then did you think I didn’t follow ovegakart, one of the biggest LU/LoZ creators? Listen, I’m not mad at you, I’m just confused at your thought process here. This AU idea wasn’t made for dpxdc, it doesn’t even make much sense for it. Yeah yeah, people can do whatever they want, whatever, but at least credit it my god. Or change it up to suit dpxdc more, or both.

How many other people have just taken AU ideas from others and pawned it off as their own, thinking that no one would find out since they’re from another fandom? It makes me feel gross. Please, just credit the idea. If I just posted this with some writing adding onto this, not knowing about this idea coming from another fandom and another person. I think I might need to close my asks for a bit, I don’t feel great, sorry.

[louisjude]

im a multishipper. i ship buddie and bucktommy. but if im being honest one side is being incredibly more hateful and toxic than the other side. (aka the one thats been around longer) maybe i’ve taken off my rose-colored shipping glasses, but seeing ppl make hate posts abt tommy/lou gives me the ick. it makes me actually realize why oliver left twt. bitterness will get you nowhere. if buddie is meant to happen then it’ll happen. you cannot force it to happen. everything i’ve seen and read tells me buddie was more of a consideration pre-s5 than it is currently. and that fucking sucks but just because things aren’t going your way doesn’t mean you need to get on the internet and be a bully. it’s truly mind-boggling to see people so intense in their hate for a character that has righted his wrongs, who is now friends with the people he wronged, is well-liked among said characters and is now being a positive influence on buck’s newfound sexuality. their dynamic is also nothing new, pessimist/optimist ship dynamics have been around forever and it’s only a problem because it’s not eddie.

i would be happy for buddie to go canon as much as the next guy. getting buck canonically bisexual is mind-blowing enough in itself, i’m glad we’re witnessing it at all. if ryan doesn’t want to do buddie because he feels its important they stay friends then so be it. platonic friendships between a queer man and straight man are important, especially one that runs so deep like buck and eddie’s. sure, their friendship could be read as romantic throughout the show, but partly because oliver and ryan truly share a great chemistry on screen which helps lean into it but also because these shows are not written with an endgame in mind. 9-1-1 is very much a go with the flow show, and if bucktommy is where the show is flowing then that’s what is meant to be. invisible string theory isn’t because ppl think it was always planned from the beginning, it’s because it’s amazing how well buck and tommy becoming a couple comes together so perfectly out of pure coincidence.

we know buck was supposed to be made queer long ago. we also know maddie originally was brought in for eddie but was put with chimney instead. if tim minear hadn’t left after s4 i truly think buddie could have been already established by now, but unfortunately that isn’t how things work. perhaps the idea of tommy and eddie was pitched but ultimately ryan didn’t agree it would work for these character nor the story being told at the time. buck was already supposed to be queer, so turning it to tommy and buck instead makes total sense.

no one is saying you aren’t allowed to continue to ship buddie. most ships in the world are ships that have never gone canon. buddie is valid even if it’s non-canon. god knows i will continue to read and write for them and enjoy them whilst also enjoying buck and tommy together. the behavior i’ve been seeing though is just weird, especially from larger creators who i understand are very passionate for buddie, but it’s weird when you flip it into tommy/lou hate instead of just talking about buddie itself.

perhaps the theories will be true. we don’t know! maybe buck and tommy won’t last and buddie will be endgame. i’m happy either way because buck’s sexuality is so important for him and at the current state of the show eddie is absolutely not ready for anything romantic because he’s still grieving shannon to a point where he is not ready to move on romantically just yet and we’re literally shown this. even if buddie is happening, it is not happening by the season finale nor is it probably happening by the beginning of s8 considering the current storylines and where they’ll be at by the end of this season. lou probably isn’t going anywhere and from the looks of it, we’ll probably be bumped up into a semi-regular character in s8 like karen. he’s easy to write into the plot, he’s got connections to people and emergencies outside of buck that would integrate him well into the plot. their romance is supposed to be “romcom” esque, they’re taking things slow but they’re obviously happy together at the moment.

im just really tired of the nasty attitudes ive been seeing. sure theres are som toxic people on both sides, but to me its obvious which side is being the bigger bully. reality checks needs to be put in place for some people, go outside and realize you are getting way too worked up over a tv show where plotlines are out of your control. if the show is ruined for you over one relationship then stop watching it.

[rogerswifesblog]

Birthday post!

A/N: well, well happy birthday!👀🎂 our beloved man of desire is 42 today! For this occasion I wanted to write something a bit different-a snippet for each character (okay, not all of them, maybe I’ll post more but I didn’t manage more😵‍💫🤣)

Inspired by this post and a conversation with @jamneuromain who also wrote the Curtis and Lloyd part!!! Give this amazing person some love!!

My Masterlist

-> how the CE would react misunderstanding the word “creampuff” or just asks them to get her some 😋

Steve Rogers

Steve didn’t know a lot of modern terms and slang-so he learned everything from you. Also some dirty talk and words you’d rather use in the bedroom than public. Which also meant he now learned what a creampie was. At first he had been a bit confused when you asked him to give you a creampie in the middle of sex.

“Wait-do you want me to stop and get you one? Now?”, he had asked confusedly, stopping moving right before you could reach your peak. “No-Steve-a creampie, not a pie”, he still seemed confused and that’s when you realised he had no idea what you were talking about. So you explained to him what it was.

“Oh…you want me to come…in you?”

From then on he definitely loved creampies. So much, he always looked up whenever you only said the word cream itself. It was funny. Really. You loved teasing him by using the words. Sometimes in public, sometimes at home.

But he knew when you did it to tease him, he could hear it in your tone.

You both were sitting on the couch, watching the when an ad come up. It was some trailer for a movie but the only thing you actually looked at was the baked goods they were eating. A quiet gasp escaped your lips. “Oh god, I want a Creampuff”, you moaned quietly, feeling Steve immediately stand up, making you drop onto the couch with your back. “Jesus, Steve-what are you doing?”, you mumbled slowly sitting up.

Steve took of his hoodie, throwing it to the floor, leaving him in just his jeans, which he also stated opening , the belt buckle hitting the floor quickly. “You want a Creampuff”, he only said, as if you were the one doing something stupid.

“Yeah-I want a Creampuff, so why are you taking off your pants?”

He still seemed confused, slowly dropping his pants to the floor, his boxershorts already slightly tented. “Doesn’t that mean you want me to…you know, come in you?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing, your laugh only getting louder at his so-called ‘perfect hurt puppy look’. “Oh Stevie, sweetheart, no…I don’t mean creampie. I mean a Creampuff…it’s something to eat, you know what I mean”

Only then did he realise his mistake, a quiet ‘oh’ escaping his lips as he sat back down. It was hilarious how hurt he looked. Like a kicked puppy. Yep, that was the man you fell in love with. Steve Rogers.

“Sorry I guess i…got a bit too excited”, he mumbled, crossing his arms. Chuckling you cuddled closer to him, kissing his cheek gently. “You’re cute. I’ll give you a blowie later, sounds good?”, you whispered sweetly into his ear, watching him blush as soon as he thought about it. Steve nodded slowly, dropping his arms around your shoulders.

“You know…I still think cream puff is the more appropriate word for... you know... that…”

Ransom Drysdale

After a coffee date in the morning you were driving through the city and as the passenger you watched the buildings and lights, noticing a bakery you mumbled something quietly to yourself.

“What was that, Sweetheart?”, Ransom asked you, watching you for a second before looking back to the road. You felt yourself blush as you sighed, knowing he would stop asking until you’d finally repeat your words.

Shrugging you tore away your gaze from the window. “I said I’m in the mood for a Creampuff”, you grinned, watching how Ransom slowly raised his eyebrows. A mischievous smile creeped on his lips. “Sure? A Creampuff? Maybe you’d rather have a creampie”, he mumbled seductively, placing his hand on your thigh and squeezing gently.

A laugh escaped your lips as you took his hand, sliding your fingers between his. “You know…usually I’d probably take it but right now? I’m so in the mood for a sweet fat Creampuff”, you moaned at the thought, liking over your lips. All this time ransom watched you from the corner of his eyes, huffing quietly.

You always forgot how much attitude he could give you if he didn’t get the answer he wanted to hear.

“Oh come on, creampie or creampuff, honey?" His question made you roll your eyes, an amused expression creeping on your face. “Don’t be a baby…you know I love you, but right now I really want to eat a Creampuff”, he shook his head at your words, stopping at a red light and immediately watching you carefully.

"you'll only get one choice. Are you seriously choosing the sugar and flour over me?"

You chuckled at his behaviour, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Of course you got your Creampuff.

(And at the end of the day also a creampie.)

Jake Jensen

You were sitting in a little coffee shop with Jake, watching the naked goods there were putting up on display since you were a bit early. “Omg Jake look, look”, you whispered excitedly, noticing your favourite Cream Puffs.

Jake was playing on his phone so he didn’t notice what you were talking about but he nodded anyway. “I’ll get what you get, just need to finish this game and then I’m all yours-” “I want a Creampuff”, as soon as you said that he put down his phone looking up at you, quickly enough for his glasses to slide down from his nose a bit.

“Here? Now? Well…I’m sure they have a bathroom but-“ “What are you talking about???” You shook your head, watching as he stood up and grabbed your hand, wanting to pull you up.

“You said you wanted a creampie”, he whispered nodding with his head to the direction of the toilets, making you only shake your head more. “A creamPUFF. Idiot. A creampuff. To eat. Food. Not creampie. We’re in a café”, you face palmed, sighing loudly.

“Oh…then I guess I’ll get you the Creampuff”, Jake sounded like a kid that had their candies taken from them as he slowly walked to the counter with his shoulders slumped.

He was such an idiot sometimes.

But he was your idiot.

Johnny Storm

Johnny was sitting in front of the tv, watching a baking show-even though he never baked. You weren’t sure if he knew how to turn in the oven, if you had to be honest.

While you were preparing some simple meal for lunch you also listened to the show, hearing something that made your mouth immediately water. Creampuffs. That’d be amazing for dessert.

“Johnny, food’s ready,” you called out, placing the plates on the table. When he quickly came to you, kissing your cheeks and grinning brightly you couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling. He was such a sweet guy. Sometimes. He could also be really annoying.

“They baked wedding cakes-but in my opinion they were all ugly-just so boring, we’d have one with flames everywhere, right?” You chuckle at his overthinking over something that was happening anytime soon.

“Johnny, for one you proposed last week. Two…how do you think a cake can be in flames without burning down?” “…fake flames?”, you shook your head, a grin creeping on your lips. “Let’s eat, yeah?”

He nodded happily and took his first bite.

After finishing your meal Johnny took the dirty dishes to wash them, while you walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his midsection. “You know what I’m in the mood for…”

Even without needing to see him you knew he’d smirk at your words, even though you weren’t talking about anything that would make him happy…at least not in that way.

“A Creampuff.” You mumbled it into his back, sighing happily.

He immediately lifted his head, looking at you over his shoulder. “Like-right now? I’m a bit busy you know…but you can take off your clothes and just wait for me in the bedroom-“ “Jonny I didn’t say creampie. I meant a Creampuff”

He grumbled something then. “Then…I guess we can get some…but after I wanna give you a creampie.” You could hear the happy smirk in his voice as he was probably already thinking about the latter.

Ari Levinson

Ari planned a little trip for you two for the weekend so after you had packed your clothes and everything needed, you were already on your way to a cabin he had booked.

But while driving a weird craving overcomes you. You hadn’t rated those things in a long time but…for some reason you couldn’t stop thinking about the sweet taste for the past thirty minutes.

Sighing you looked at Ari from the side. "I want some cream puffs", you whined, grabbing his arm since he had his hand placed on your thigh. Chuckling Ari shook his head slowly.

“Sweetheart, we're not approaching the nearest town in an hour. We don’t have creampuffs”, he grunted amused, the corners of his lifting slightly. At this point of your relationship he was pretty used to you having random and sudden craving for the most ridiculous food, something you've never eaten before.

Pouting you furrowed your eyebrows, crossing your arms. “can't a girl have her dream? A Creampuff would be really nice…”, you sighed sadly.

Ari brushed one of his longer hairs behind his ear, smirking to himself as he watched the road, "well your dream is not going to be satisfied, unless..."

As soon as he started coming up with an idea you sat up straight, grinning brightly at him, "are we going to change route? Would you do that for-“ "UNLESS you change your dream cream puff into creampie. That I can do."

You immediately swatted his arms, huffing in annoyance. “You’re an idiot.”

“But you didn’t say no.”

Lloyd Hansen

You had been trapped in this semi-bunker-castle for ten hours. While Lloyd was perfectly happy - or angry yelling at his men to organize and regroup from their failed attempt at catching a rogue agent, you had spent the past five hours exploring this castle, this bunker, whatever this was, from top to bottom, even coming up with a map in your head of each and every room. You were bored. And all this walking had made you a bit hungry.

And what could be better satisfying your stomach than something sweet and soft? A cream puff? Or a box of them?

Lloyd, on the other hand, tends to ignore all the protests coming from his body when he gets busy. It was two in the afternoon and he hadn't had a single thing to eat since four this morning.

You squeezed through the tech guys and operatives, maneuvering yourself in the War Room, where Lloyd set up a temporary command station and hadn't left since five this morning, and tugged the corner of his shirt.

"What, bunny?" He gestured to the ops team to get out of the room, and lean by the edge of the glass table, crossing his arms, "is my bunny bored?"

You shook your head before nodding hesitantly, your lips making a cute little pout, "want creampuffs."

" 'm sorry?" Lloyd smiled smugly, curling two fingers to signal his bodyguards to enter the room, but his eyes still laser-focused on you.

"Creampuffs." You whined, "can I please have creampuffs?"

Lloyd extended his arms to pull you close, his mustache twitched, dragging the corner of his lips into a bigger smile while he worked through his belt buckle and grinded you on his hard bulge. "You’re not getting any creampuffs, bunny. You’re getting a creampie, now take off your clothes."

Your hands reached the back of your pink fluffy dress instinctively. You were about to pull the zipper down when you realized - "But Lloyd, there's still other people around." You whispered in embarrassment, cheeks flushed, lowering your hand slowly away from your zipper.

"Then those people can watch how I fuck you, filling you up like a little creampuff, hmm?" Lloyd licked your earlobe, his wet hot breath ghosting the sensitive spot behind your ear.

"Lloyd-" You whimpered, but he had already taken things under his control and yanked the back of your dress, tearing it wide open.

He took all your breath with a searing kiss, before covering your ears with his large palm and shouting to his men, who had been standing in silence ever since they came in this room, "Are you FUCKING DEAF? She wants CREAMPUFFS. What are you morons waiting for? A direction to the best bakery in town??"

Cole Turner

You’ve been with Cole for six months now-which was to him a very long time. Most of his relationships didn’t last a month and you were now getting closer to seven than just six. Which made him happy like a kid that got two cookies instead of one.

He was a sweetheart. Always making sure you got what you wanted and that you were satisfied-sometimes he could be annoying, too. Incredibly even. He was very clingy, which could be exhausting when you needed some space.

But he’d do anything for you, so you accepted his little flaws, just like he accepted yours. Even though it could be annoying sometimes to him, too.

“Cole, do we have something sweet? I need something sweet to my coffee”, you grumbled, looking through all your cabinets. The last two weeks Cole had spent at your place and without needing to ask the question you both knew he was slowly moving in.

Smiling he walked into the kitchen taking some cookies out of a cabinet you hadn’t looked though yet.

Sighing you took the package, squinting your eyes slightly. You liked them but…it’s not what you were in the mood for…

“Do we have anything else?”, you asked, putting away the cookies and furrowing your eyebrows slightly, which Cole did too, then. “Anything else? I think there’s still some cake left in the fridge-” “no I don’t want that”, you huffed, crossing your arms.

Normally you weren’t this moody but you were supposed to get your period any second now, which made you a bit more cranky than normally.

Cole stepped closer to you, taking your hands in his and kissing them. “What is it that you want, Cupcake?”, he asked gently, making you a bit more mad about how nice he was even though you were in such a bad mood and were so unfriendly. “Nothing”, you grunted, making him roll his eyes, yet there was still a smile on his lips.

“Come on…I can tell you have something on your mind..”

And he was right, of course, but there was no bakery close by so you couldn’t really ask him for what you really wanted.

“It’s just…I watched a stupid show and they had cream puffs and…I haven’t eaten them in so long…”, you mumbled into his chest when he hugged you, kissing your head. Cole was always a very touchy person, which you got used to.

Cole raised his eyebrows slowly looking down at you. “…cream puffs? That’s what this is about? You could’ve just said it, Cupcake…I’ll get you a whole box if you want that”, he kissed your lips quickly, already grabbing his car keys and not giving you any time to process what just happened.

And so in less than forty minutes you had your Creampuff, a coffee and great cuddles. Cole definitely was the one.

Curtis Everett

Curtis was woken up by you.

You turned and turned in bed. Curling in his arms and rolling to the edge of the bed in the next second.

Oh you want cream puffs so badly.

The cravings in the night was keeping you awake and hungry at 3 am.

CREAM PUFFS!

You buried your face in the pillow and willed yourself to sleep. But as soon as you started counting sheeps, the fluffy white balls of wool jumping the fence quickly became fluffy white balls of whipped cream, jumping from the mixer bowl to the imaginary crunchy crust.

CREAM PUFFS!!

You kicked the heavy duvet impatiently. Earning a disturbed noise from your man lying next to you.

“Baby, what're you doing up?” Curtis grunted, voice groggy from sleep. He squinted his eyes looking at the bedside phone. "3 am?!"

You rolled back into his arms, inhaling the musky cologne that soaked through his shirt.

“I want some cream puffs.”

More so, the little bump in your belly wanted them too.

You were four months along. And all the cravings were driving you crazy.

"It's 3 in the morning, babygirl. where the hell am I supposed to find cream puffs for you?"

Just to be sure of the time, Curtis flipped on the light by the bed and double-checked the time again. His mind still in a sleepy haze, but he clearly knew it was impossible to get you what you asked for.

"Maybe later then, 8 or 9, I'm going to the bakery." You mumbled, "I didn't want you to find ... I just suddenly want some… I can live without it. Now go back to sleep."

Curtis sighed loudly, opening one eye with difficulty, trying to stop his eye rolling to the back of his head because of how sleepy he was: "Now now, spill it out. I know creampuffs can't be the only thing you crave."

"Oh!" You came up with answers to his questions immediately, your stomach groaning for how delicious this sounded, snapping you from tiredness, "and those butter biscuits with chocolate chips... a big tall cup of strawberry milkshake … Oh oh oh! And fries!”

“Fries??!! How do fries make sense there??? I thought you wanted baked goods???”

"Well, I wanted baked goods," you peered at his unreadable expressions with the dim light, bumping his abdomen with your baby bump, "this little one wanted fries. And ice cream." You added hastily.

Curtis tucked your head under his chin, sounding unconvinced, "let me guess, he wants the milkshake too?"

"He needs something to go down with the food." You put out a lame excuse.

"That little…" Curtis swallowed whatever curse he was about to say, a long sigh and - he got out of the bed.

"Wait, where are you going?" You called as he was heading out, "Come back to bed."

Curtis grumbled some more.

"I'm damn well not letting my woman and my kid get starved."

Curtis spent the next half an hour in the kitchen, mixing batters and baking your favorites. When everything was ready, he went back to the bedroom to call you.

Only to find you asleep.

Curtis banged his head on the bedroom door frame lightly. At least, he thought to himself, that you were having a good sleep. He turned to the kitchen and put everything to chill in the fridge.

The second he went back to bed, you crawl instinctively into his arms and sniffed.

Suddenly all hyped up.

"Is that butter and chocolate I just smell on you?" Even in the dark, he knew your eyes beamed and glittered like the stars in the sky.

"Yes." He sighed, getting up again already, "you want to have some now?"

You were more enthusiastic than a hamster on a hamster wheel, scrambling up to wait for his cooking.

Curtis brought in a tray, with a glass of strawberry milkshake, a small plate of cookies and a few cream puffs, along with some fries and a small orb of ice cream.

"Eat. And go to sleep." He grunted, sitting beside you, squinting his eyes while stifling a big yawn.

Your lips trembled. Quiet sniffings. Curtis saw your eyes filled with tears instantly.

"I'm sorry babygirl." He welcomed you with his broad shoulders and warm embrace. Kissings landed on your forehead. "Sorry baby, just eat and we can cuddle and sleep. Didn't mean for it to sound that harsh."

"I … it's just … you stayed up to cook … and I fell asleep … and I feel so sorry for waking you up … and the whipped cream in cream puffs. It's been whipped so it must have hurt…"

Your sobs made absolutely no sense. But Curtis hummed and patted you on your back, calming you down.

"You'll have a little bit of everything, and then we cuddle and sleep, alright?" He wiped your tears away with the back of his hand, asking for your opinion.

The sadness came and the sadness went. It's only pregnancy hormones. Curtis got used to them by now.

You nodded, with tears staining your cheek and a small smile on your lips, pointing at the creampuffs, "Ah-"

Kyle

He knew he’d get in trouble. He had know it as soon as the idea came into his mind-but he’d do anything for you. Having listened to you talk about creampuffs made him want to make you happy with a simple gesture.

But he hadn’t expected it’d cost him more than just one period. He shouldn’t be skipping classes since he wanted to graduate as good as possible, but what could he do when the bakery was baking fresh Creampuffs while he walked into the bakery? So he had decided to wait not expecting how long it’d take.

But in the end he knew you’d be happy so he decided to sacrifice himself and skip his three first periods-at least he’d be perfect on time for your lunch break.

Then you’d finally get those creampuffs.

After the cashier packed it in a pretty pink box-with a pretty bow-he quickly went back to his school, even though he knew this was probably a stupid idea. Well….anyway…

Walking into the school he hid the box in his locker, just in time for a teacher to call out his name noticing he wasn’t in class. “Shouldn’t you be in class-“ “yes, but…I didn’t feel so good, so…but I’m on my way back-” “young man, are you lying to your teacher?”

He felt himself blush, smiling apologetic. There was no way out of this.

After a talk with the teacher and even the principal he got detention. Just then did the bell rang so he walked to the table you usually sat at-before that he quickly stopped at his locker taking the cream puff box.

“Kyle! There you are”, you sighed in relief not having seen him all morning. “Where the hell have you been? Someone said you skipped classes-you know you can’t do this now. If you want to go to the same college you have to-” “I got you these”, he interrupted you pulling out the box and putting it in front of you.

You furrowed your eyebrows looking back at him. “Creampuffs?!”, you grinned opening the lid. “That’s why you skipped your first period? You didn’t have to do that Honey”, you smiled warmly.

Kyle smiled slightly embarrassed, shrugging. “Yeah…and second, and third. Mostly because they run out of creampuffs and have to bake a new batch…I just wanted to make you happy. You’re working so hard on your grades, you deserve something sweet”, he kissed your cheeks, while sitting down next to you.

“You’re a treasure, kyle. Here, have one too”, you smiled taking one for yourself and one for him. “If you wanna thank me I’d have something else in mind…how about a nice…creampie”

“Kyle! I told you I won’t have sex without a condom!”, you swatted his arm, making him laugh out loud. “Was worth a try.”

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! Maybe I’ll write it for Frank, Nomad Steve, Colin, Mace and Nick too😘

Let me know! Support your writers by reblogging and leaving feedback! Receiving feedback motivates a lot!

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[teaberrii]

Chapter 16: Connecting the Dots

You've been Cupid for as long as you can remember. You've brought countless soulmates together, yet you've never found love.

When you're assigned to bring two childhood friends back together, it should be simple until you unexpectedly catch feelings for the mysterious and cold Ph.D. student, Dan Heng, the man with a soulmate… the man with answers to your past.

Dan Heng/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

“You’re being threatened?” Stelle’s unexpected revelation almost makes Pom drop his cookie. “By who? Why?”

Stelle fidgets as she says, “I don’t know.” She gets up from the couch and picks up her phone off the coffee table. “I… took a picture of the note.”

Her bottom lip curls inwards as Pom watches her tap her phone a few times. Then, she hands it to him. Upon reading the messy scrawl on the ripped piece of paper, Pom immediately gets goosebumps. However, is it just him, or does the scrawl look a little familiar?

"Do you have any idea who'd do this?" Pom asks. "A fan? A… friend, maybe?” She looks down, hesitant to answer. “Stelle…?”

Finally, she looks at Pom and says, “No. I have no idea who'd do this, but..."

"Does the writing look familiar?"

Stelle is looking away from him when she says, "My brother."

Pom blinks once. Twice. “Caelus? How? Isn’t he, um, studying abroad?”

“I know his handwriting.” Pom takes another look at the photo, and it’s then he feels as if the scrawl mimics someone who’s slowly losing his mind. “His writing isn’t usually messy,” Stelle continues. “But I know it’s his.”

Pom gives her phone back. “But why would he write this? The message itself doesn’t make much sense if he’s the one who wrote it.”

Stelle sighs and leans back. “I… I don’t know, Pom. My dad’s been acting strange. Caelus hasn’t been answering me. I just… I feel like I’m the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on.”

“Acting strange? How?”

“He’s been doing everything he can to keep that article from running.” Stelle looks up at the ceiling. “The Withering supposedly makes people go crazy. With the way my dad’s obsessing over this article”—she scoffs—"the disease is truly making him lose his mind.”

Hold on a minute. Is Stelle supposed to know about the details of The Withering? Pom remembers her father mentioned that he doesn’t know much about it himself besides that it’s rare. Perhaps she read about it somewhere, but Pom still feels like he should ask.

“How do you know it makes people go crazy? Did someone tell you?”

Stelle reaches for a cookie. “Luocha.”

Pom froze. Did he hear that correctly? Luocha? The fake, pretty-boy doctor who was your brother? How does Stelle know about him? Through Caelus or—

"He’s a doctor,” Stelle says.

Finally, Pom takes a deep breath and takes a sip of the tea Stelle prepared moments ago. “How do you know him?”

“He’s my other brother.” Pom chokes on the tea, and he almost drops his cup. Stelle has to quickly take the cup from him and put it on the table. Then, she moves onto the couch he’s sitting on and gives his back a hard pat. “Geez, Pom. Are you okay? What’s gotten into you?”

His heart can’t any more of these surprises or else he’s going to suffer from a fatal heart attack. After hitting his chest a couple of times, Pom asks, “You have another brother? But”—he vaguely gestures to her hair just her in general—”you look nothing alike!”

“He’s—”

A knock comes at the door, and Stelle gets up to answer it. Pom quickly takes out his phone, eager to tell you and Dan Heng this shocking truth. But as he’s typing, he hears a familiar voice that makes his blood run cold.

“A friend?”

“Yeah,” Stelle answers. “His name’s Pom.”

And that’s when Pom sees Luocha come around the corner with Stelle. 

“Well, what a small world.” The gentle smile on Luocha’s face makes Pom frown.

“You two know each other?” Stelle asks, looking from Pom to Luocha.

"We're acquainted," Luocha says, looking at Pom. “The last time we met… he was suspicious of me.”

Pom shoots Luocha a look to which the doctor returns with a kind smile.

“Suspicious?” Stelle asks. She looks at Pom. “Why?”

Is this what being cornered feels like? Pom puts his phone aside and says, “You were thinking too much.”

When Stelle’s phone goes off, she picks it up from the counter.” Ah, I need to take this. It’s from my manager. Be right back!”

Neither Luocha nor Pom looks at her as she walks off while answering her phone.

As soon as Pom hears a door close, he immediately asks, “What are you doing here? And... how in the world are you related to Stelle and Caelus?" Then, without thinking, “Does that mean they’re also related to Cupid—”

Luocha smiles. “How much do you know about the past, Pom?” Pom looks up and sees Luocha leaning against the counter. “Or is magic the only supernatural phenomenon you believe in?”

“Sounds like you believe in much more than that.”

“I guess my sister hasn’t filled you in.” Luocha pushes himself off the counter. “I’m talking about my half-sister, by the way. Our beloved Cupid.”

Half sister?

“I know about doppelgangers and reincarnations. I also know about a past life where I lived as Cupid’s brother.”

“You referred to her as your half-sister a few seconds ago,” Pom says.

“Because that’s who she is.”

“How are you so sure?”

Luocha walks over, and Pom instinctively gestures for him to stop with his hand. “D-Don’t come any closer.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, Pom. I won’t hurt you.”

“Great. Then”—Pom points to a chair that’s a fair distance away—”you can stay all the way over there.”

Luocha almost rolls his eyes. He doesn't listen, however, and sits on the couch adjacent to the one Pom is sitting on. Pom immediately moves to the end of the couch.

“Caelus was the one who told me,” Luocha says.

“...Caelus?”

“Haven’t you heard? Caelus is getting his memories back.”

Oh, Pom’s heard, of course. But nothing about you.

“And you believe him?” Pom asks skeptically.

“Does he have a reason to lie?”

“He's been hostile towards Cupid. I don’t know why, but he might be telling you things to get you to hate her for whatever reason.”

Luocha leans back and crosses one leg over the other. “Let me ask you something, Pom.”

“...What?”

“If something you were supposed to have was ripped away from you… and you found it in the hands of another person who didn’t cherish it, what would you do?”

“Are you saying Cupid stole something from him? She would never do that!”

“Not her,” Luocha says. “Her father. Or… our father.”

A young Caelus awakened to the sound of muffled conversations in the room right outside of his. He looked over his shoulder and saw his younger sister, Stelle, sleeping soundly. So, he quietly slipped out of bed and put his ear to the sliding door to hear whatever conversation was happening on the other side.

“I don’t… I don’t understand what you’re saying.” A woman raising Caelus and Stelle stood in front of two armoured men. “I am not going anywhere with you.”

“It’s the king’s orders.”

“Has he gone mad?” she snapped. Caelus quietly slid the door open a little. "I have a life here. I’m looking after two children—”

One of the men grabbed her arm. “You’d be doing the kingdom a favour.”

“No! I—”

Caelus fully slid the door open. “L-Let her go!”

The woman gasped. “Caelus!” The man let her go, and she rushed to Caelus’s side. “You're supposed to be sleeping.”

“Who are they?” Caelus asked, nervously looking at the men.

She stood in front of them, blocking Caelus's view. “Just visitors.”

The men looked at each other. Then, one of them unsheathed his sword. “If you don’t come with us, we’ll take the kid instead.”

The woman pushed Caelus behind her. “Leave him out of this.”

“...Or, we’ll kill him.”

Caelus’s eyes widened. What was going on? Where would they take him? Why would they kill him? Caelus nervously looked up at her. After a moment, she turned around and crouched to be at eye level with him.

“...Mommy’s going to be gone for tonight, okay? Just… Just for tonight.”

“Where are you going?”

Caelus could feel her trembling when she put her hands on his cheeks. “To visit… the king.”

“Come,” the man said. “We’re leaving.”

Caelus could feel it in his gut. He couldn’t let her go. So, he grabbed onto her sleeve and said, “Please… Don’t go.”

“I promise… I’ll be back soon.”

As soon as her sleeve left his grasp, his heart fell to the pit of his stomach.

“That was the last time he saw her,” Luocha says.

Pom is at a loss for words. He can only stare at Luocha who’s not looking at him but at the coffee table. Finally, Pom asks, “Who... Who was she? Did he know what happened to her? She must have lived another life or—”

"She was their guardian, and... she was murdered." Pom’s eyes widen. Luocha looks at him. “Do you want to know how I know?”

Pom doesn’t have to give him an answer.

Luocha was still processing everything Caelus was telling him in the hospital room when Caelus suddenly stood.

“...Caelus?” Luocha asked cautiously. Caelus’s eyes had clouded over, and he was swaying as if he had too much to drink. When he stepped forward, he stumbled, and Luocha steadied him, not realizing that he’d touched Caelus’s infected hand.

But that was when it happened.

Luocha saw himself sitting with a man dressed in an elegant hanfu. The men were drinking alcohol, and the older man’s face was becoming more and more flushed.

“I’m so proud of you, Luocha,” the king said with a soft laugh. Then, he downed the alcohol from his small glass. “A doctor who's also a king. You’ll be the first.”

“...I have no interest in becoming king, Father,” Luocha said.

The king slammed the glass on the table. “What are you saying, Luocha? You're my only son! If you won't take over the throne, who will?"

“Sister is getting married to Jing Yuan. I’m sure he would make a fine king.”

“Women cannot carry the family name!”

Luocha poured his father more alcohol despite seeing how red his father was getting.

“I’ve heard some interesting… gossip from the maids,” Luocha said cautiously, watching his father for any kind of reaction. “They said I’m not Mother’s son.”

“How…” A sudden laugh. “...What do they know?” The king downed another glass. Luocha poured him more. “How would they know such a thing?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. Where did this rumour come from? They said Mother was the one who admitted it.”

That was when he saw it: the darkness in his father’s eyes. Coupled with the smile, he looked almost… demonic.

“How dare she,” the king said between drunken laughter. Then, he looked Luocha in the eyes. “My son…”

“...Yes, Father?”

“I"—a hiccup—"I suppose you’re old enough to know.” Then, his father grabbed Luocha’s hanfu and pulled him closer. “But secrets come with responsibilities.”

“It’s true I wasn’t the queen’s son,” Luocha continues. “They had seven children before Cupid. All of them were girls, but they needed a boy.”

Pom does not like where this is going.

“So, he brought in a concubine.”

“W-Wait a minute,” Pom says. “Was this woman…”

“That’s right. It was the woman looking after Caelus and Stelle.”

“But you said she was murdered…”

Luocha’s gaze hardens. “After she gave birth to me, they killed her. Just like what they did with the other girls that came before Cupid.”

Pom’s head suddenly starts spinning, and when he puts a hand on his forehead and closes his eyes, he hears your voice.

“After they killed them, they burned their bodies.”

You knew. While Pom isn’t sure where this is in the timeline, he’s certain that you knew… because you were the one who told him.

“Is this too much for you, Pom?”

Pom looks up and sees Luocha looking at him. “...Cupid knew. She knew about what her father did.”

“And does she know why she was spared?”

The queen cried loudly with one last push. Two maids, who stood on either side of the queen were holding her hands. The one who delivered the baby was cradling a newborn baby girl.

“It’s a girl.” The woman’s voice broke, and the other two maids glanced at each other with a crestfallen expression.

“Let me see her,” the queen said, reaching out.

As soon as the queen saw you, she smiled with tears falling from her eyes.

Hours later, the queen was on her knees in front of the king. Only one maid was in the room, standing near the king with you in her arms.

“Please,” the queen sobbed as she bowed her head so far that her forehead touched the wooden floor. “Please spare her.”

“Why should I?” the king asked. He glanced at you in the maid’s arms. You were surprisingly quiet for a newborn, unlike the others. "Don't tell me you're feeling guilty."

The queen didn't have an answer. Perhaps the guilt had gotten to her. But she sensed something different about you when she held and looked at you for the first time. 

“We can keep trying,” the queen said, looking up to meet her husband’s eyes. “I just…” Then, she clenched her fists. “There are other options.”

“What are you getting at?”

“I know of a woman… a single woman looking after two children. She lives a very quiet life. No one would know if she were to go missing.”

“...Missing? Why—” That was when it dawned on the king. Then, he laughed darkly. “I never thought you would resort to such measures.” The king stood and looked at you. “If that is your wish… I will spare her.”

“From the beginning, Cupid had a fate worse than death,” Luocha says.

Before Pom can say anything, the migraine and your voice return…

“She regrets it.”

“...Is that why you’re letting her die?”

“...Are you… are you really on our side?” Pom asks. “If what you say is true, they killed your birth mother. Do you… hate Cupid?”

“I have nothing against my sister,” Luocha says. “She is also a victim.”

“Then why are you working with Jing Yuan?” 

Luocha turns to Pom, a stern look in his eyes. “We are not your enemies, Pom. Our worst enemies are ourselves.” When Pom looks away, Luocha continues, “There are still questions I don’t have answers to.”

“You're telling me all of that came back from just one accidental touch?"

"Yes. I don't know why or how, but that was what happened."

Does this mean if Pom also touches Caelus's hand, would his memories also return?

"I wasn't born yet when my father—the one in the present—was infected," Luocha says. "I relied on my mother's diary of the accounts. When he was almost completely paralyzed, he kept telling me of a woman. He started seeing her everywhere as if she was haunting him.”

Was that woman… you, somehow?

“I assumed the disease made him lose his mind as he went on about a past life. But knowing about the locket, meeting Jing Yuan and Cupid and you… I’m convinced.” Pom’s heart begins to race out of anxiety. “The description my father gave back then. It matches her. It matches Cupid.”

“...What happened to your mother?”

“She’s gone.” Luocha exhales sharply. “If Cupid was responsible for The Withering, then she killed more than just my father.”

The silence that follows is loud, almost deafening.

Finally, Pom takes a breath. “After all that, it still doesn’t explain why Caelus hates Cupid. It was her parents who broke apart their family, not her.”

“Call it a hunch, but maybe you can thank Jing Yuan for that.”

◆◆◆

Jing Yuan has just finished a call when he turns his car onto another street. He can’t believe he’s driving halfway across the city for Lan. The god had called him earlier, saying they needed “to talk.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” Jing Yuan deadpanned.

“It’s much worse than that.”

For the past ten minutes, Jing Yuan had tried getting in touch with Luocha—but the man wasn’t answering. Eventually, Jing Yuan gave up and turned his focus to getting to the hospital.

When Jing Yuan’s car rolls to a stop at a red light, he looks to the side and sees a young couple walking on the sidewalk. They are holding hands, and they’d smile at each other. Then, when Jing Yuan blinks once, he suddenly sees you… and him.

It was not long after you and Jing Yuan met that your parents volunteered you to show Jing Yuan around the village. When you saw him, you bluntly said, " You’re not going to the village dressed like that.” Your mother had glared at you, and you frowned. “He looks like he’s going to war. We’re going for a walk, not to a battlefield.”

So, that was how Jing Yuan ended up on a casual village walk with you dressed in a black-and-white hanfu.

You’d just finished telling him about some of the shops you passed by when he said, “You’re very knowledgeable.”

“Well, I grew up here. What did you expect, General?"

“You grew up here, sure, but not everyone knows so much about its history. However, you know all about the ins and outs of everything. It’s fascinating.”

"I guess that's one way to look at it." You smiled at him. "You have manners, General."

"I'm offended you'd think otherwise."

"Just accept the compliment before I change my mind."

"For a princess, you sure are... direct."

"What were you expecting?"

"Is this a trick question?" Then, Jing Yuan suddenly took your wrist, making you stop. “Tell me about this place.”

You looked up. “...The noodle shop?” You raised a brow. “Are you interested in learning about its quality ingredients Or would you like me to tell you their secret of staying in business for more than thirty years?”

“Well if you’re willing.”

“...That was sarcasm.”

“Too late.”

Before you could say anything else, he was walking inside with his hand still around your wrist and you beside him.

A loud honk snaps Jing Yuan out of his thoughts. He shifts the gears and drives off, trying to forget whatever he just remembered.

◆◆◆

In an empty area of the hospital, Lan and Dan Heng stand off to the side. You’re sitting on a bench where Lan and Dan Heng can keep an eye on you. You haven’t said much since you left Caelus's room. After Lan had said everyone needed to talk, you had turned to Dan Heng.

“...Sorry,” you said. “I… didn’t mean to hurt him.”

He could see it in your face. It was like you were fighting with something. Dan Heng put his hands on either side of your face.

“Something came back for you,” Dan Heng said. When you looked down, he knew he was right. You put his hands on top of his, and he felt you trembling. “We’ll get through it.”

You looked down, and he wasn’t sure what to make of your silence.

“I had someone look into The Withering,” Lan says, and Dan Heng turns to him. “To conclude, The Withering is the result of black magic. And... it couldn’t have been done alone.”

Nanook had just come out of his quarters with nothing but a towel around his waist when he nearly jumped at the sight of Lan sitting on a chair.

“Who said you could just waltz in here?” Nanook frowned. “What the fuck are you doing in my room?”

“...I need your help.”

Nanook raised a brow. “Are we in danger? Since when does the all-powerful God of the Hunters need my help?”

“It involves Cupid.”

“...Cupid?" Nanook's gaze hardened. "Did something happen to her? Whose ass do I have to beat? Is it Dan—"

“She may have created a curse.”

Nanook’s eyes widened. “...What? Are you messing with me? This is Cupid we’re talking about. Why would she—”

Lan took out a vial with black liquid inside. “I need you to examine this for me.” Nanook walked over and took the vial from him. “It’s a blood sample from an infected human. I can’t match whatever is in it to any curse families I know about.”

“If I help you, you better tell me what’s going on with her.”

“I told him everything,” Lan says. “If I didn’t”—he scoffs—”he’d probably try killing me in my sleep.”

“Why ask Nanook?” Dan Heng asks.

“He’s the God of Destruction. He owns the Grimoire of Black Magic. If there’s anyone who knows something about how The Withering is made, he’s our best chance.”

“...Did he find anything?”

The next time Lan saw Nanook was to get some answer—but Lan was not expecting it to come in the form of a full-blown report.

“It has everything you need to know,” Nanook said. “All the way down to its base components, ingredients, and whatnot.”

“You got all of this from one blood sample?”

“Of course, I also had to do research. Hate to admit it, but the blood sample you gave me did help a lot, though.”

"So, you are useful for something," Lan said, flipping through the notes.

"You're lucky I'm more worried about Cupid than beating your ass right now." Lan looked up and Nanook sighed. “I don’t know what’s going on down here, but are you sure she's the one who created this?”

“Why do you ask?”

“The Withering was created using advanced black magic,” Nanook said. “We're talking top tier." Lan made a gesture for Nanook to get on with his point. "Cupid was human at the time, wasn’t she? There was absolutely no way in hell she could’ve created that.”

A small pause.

“Not on her own.”

Lan narrowed his eyes. “Explain.”

“Black magic is powerful, but advanced black magic is on another level,” Nanook said. “It requires two or more people, depending on what you’re trying to do. To create something like The Withering, a curse in the disguise of a disease, you need a human and a magical being.”

“...Like who?”

“Anyone who’s not human and knows about advanced magic."

Lan glanced down, and his eyes widened when it dawned on him. When he looked at Nanook, the God of Destruction exhaled sharply.

“Don’t have any proof, but the rabbit's lookin' a little suspicious."

Upon making eye contact with Dan Heng, Lan also knows he’s thinking of the same person.

“...Do you know something, Dan Heng?”

“Pom… he said he remembered being a shapeshifter. A shaman… he helped Young put a protection spell on the pendant to keep Cupid safe from Jing Yuan.”

Lan leans against the wall. “A shapeshifter…”

“Were there others like Pom?”

“You wouldn’t know someone is a shapeshifter unless they told you. They were common in folklore, but I’ve never met one before.” Lan looks down as if deep in thought. “If he did help Cupid create The Withering, it would explain why he’s on The Astral Express.”

“...The Astral Express?”

Before Lan can say anything more, the men see you standing, staring straight ahead. When Dan Heng looks in the direction you’re looking at, he sees Jing Yuan who has just reached the top of the stairs.

“Is it just me, or is the atmosphere awfully dreary?”

When Dan Heng is by your side, he notices you’re slightly shaking as Jing Yuan walks toward you. Then, when Jing Yuan is in front of you, he leans down.

“We meet again, Sweet—”

His eyes widen when you swiftly grab his neck without warning—but what frightens him isn’t that you’re choking him. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even blink. He’s forced to look at you as he suddenly feels a searing pain in his stomach.

“...How does it feel?”

He hears your voice but your lips never moved. His mouth opens but no words would come. Instead, when he finally looks down, he sees himself bleeding from a gaping wound in his stomach. Another voice comes, but this time it’s his own.

“I did it... so you'd never forget me. Hate runs deep, deeper than love."

Jing Yuan falls to the ground, still reeling at whatever it was he just experienced. It felt so real. The metal through his stomach. The blood from his wounds. Then, when he looks up, he sees you and Dan Heng; the murderous look in your eyes Jing Yuan saw moments ago disappeared.

This time, he's sure this feeling is real.

Because looking at you and Dan Heng, it feels like his heart is being ripped from his chest. And the worst part is Jing Yuan has no idea why.

Chapter 17

End notes: I was not expecting Jing Yuan to have such a big role in this story, lol. But through his back story, you will gradually learn about everyone else's, including more about you and Young. This is just the surface, fellas LOL more to come...

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[sasukesun]

How do you think Naruto views the curse of hatred and Sasuke’s darkness?

oh i think i already gave you a hint about how naruto views that in my curse of hatred ask.

actually, i don’t think naruto knows about the curse of hatred itself, the one that comes from tobirama’s bigoted views, since tobirama only voices that when sasuke is talking to the hokages, and naruto wasn’t present there. but well, do i think naruto believes sasuke is genetically predisposed to evil? lol.

like i said in the curse of hatred ask, something that seems to be very solid in naruto is the idea that people grow “positively” when they get support from others, the good place quote and all. well, naruto himself seems to be the character that understands this idea the most.

naruto understands that he and sasuke could be in each other’s places and he does explain why he thinks that, because naruto got external love from iruka and sasuke (the positive support that allows him to grow) while sasuke didn’t. despite him feeling at ease because of naruto (and naruto doesn’t quite know that), sasuke didn’t get the same support before he left konoha, thanks to orochimaru’s curse seal actively triggering him and itachi coming back and retraumatising him. naruto understands that sasuke did everything he did because he loved his family very much, it’s quite interesting how when sakura brings sasuke’s criminal status, naruto talks about sasuke’s love for his family instead of his anger.

i guess that would be enough to show that naruto doesn’t think sasuke is genetically evil, right? i will talk more, though. another thing that i criticised about kishimoto in that ask is the fact that he uses the narrative to frame sasuke as wrong in a way. that happens in the sage of six paths moment too.

what i think it’s important to say here is that those chapters are shit. seriously, they are retconned and badly written. every time i write posts like this, i reread everything, so let me tell you that i reread the chapters of the sage of the six paths and they sounded worse than they did before, and i don’t know how to express myself here without sounding like “source: trust me bro”, and maybe i shouldn’t worry about it that much since you asked for my opinion, but still, i’m gonna try to be objective and make you look at them critically so you understand why i find them shit.

just starting by the simple fact of how retconned the naruto ending is. chapters 670 and 671 especially are used to introduce kaguya as the new and final villain to the readers, that to me is already iffy as hell for one basic reason: naruto has 700 chapters, do you think it makes sense to introduce the supposed most important villain of the whole story with 30 chapters left for the ending? don’t you find that a little bit rushed? a little bit pulled out of nowhere? take madara in comparison, his first mention as a possible personality able to influence the story (and i mean madara, not obito pretending to be madara) is on chapter 370, a little bit over the half of the manga. and madara’s presence exists even before that, hence vote1 or kurama talking about him in reunion, for example. that is how far his influence on the plot goes, he is a ghost haunting everybody else. and another thing we have to take into consideration is why kaguya even exists? i could give you two reasons: (1) kishimoto wrote himself into a corner when he made madara so damn sexy powerful, to the point he didn’t know how to defeat him and (2) to build the new setting for boruto (since it’s villains are all from her clan), so yeah, pardon me for not taking kaguya’s entire existence in this story seriously.

and it’s not only about that retcon, it’s also about the other retcon that makes her existence so off from anything else in the manga. those chapters also introduce us a new idea which is: power corrupts people and it drives them mad. this isn’t about political power or anything, just raw power. those chapters push for the idea that the problem wasn’t with the shinobi structure or how villages ended as military fortresses, the problem is actually when people are too powerful, the problem is in the ninjutsu, which is different from the “ninshuu”, even though the manga never develops this idea, or explains how they are different and why, it just throws us vague affirmations from a supposed reliable source, since we are talking about the most powerful ninja in history, with no explanations whatsoever. this is a way to build a narrative, and i’m surely not saying that the narrative in question is good or reliable, you have to look at it critically.

so i guess let’s forget any political aspect of the shinobi world, whose worldbuilding started in land of waves, the very first arc of the manga, because the actual problem is that… there is a fruit that turns people powerful and therefore evil, huh? well, that’s not the narrative i’m buying, it’s far from enough to convince me.

and finally we get to how the fuck does that involve sasuke? well, the story tell us that indra was born naturally strong and believed that with power anything was possible, while ashura was only able to reach the same level through hard work and cooperation… so if sasuke has indra’s chakra clinging onto him… do you see where the narrative is trying to go? i have already talked about how it’s bullshit that sasuke was a natural prodigy, so the narrative can’t even get that right, but here they are also hinting that sasuke is corrupted by power. it’s not enough that the narrative is trying to make us forget about the shinobi system problems — and the uchiha massacre and sasuke wanting justice is a very relevant one of those problems — it’s also trying to push for the idea that sasuke is wrong because he is corrupted by power, while centring the morality around naruto. it’s not a “curse of hatred” that sasuke “suffers” from here, but it’s also the idea of power driving people mad and making him irrational and therefore, they are stuck in this cycle of hatred.

now, the narrative and the character are separated entities, a character can be used to build a narrative, a narrative can reinforce the credibility of a character, but i can’t blame naruto as a character for a narrative that tries to frame him as good. besides, what naruto actually thinks of this?

kishimoto made sure to emphasise it at least four times… in less than 30 chapters.

and what is even more ironic is that, even though the sage of the six paths himself is used to build this narrative, he is also used to push for the idea that naruto and sasuke are different from the ones that came before them, that they are their own people. not only the sage of the six paths btw, hashirama as well… who was used to talk about sasuke’s “soul consumed by darkness”, like i said in the curse of hatred ask.

isn’t it just messy?

now, about sasuke’s “darkness” and how naruto views it. another thing i said in the curse of hatred ask is that i don’t think the darkness used in a derogatory way to talk about sasuke wanting justice for his clan is the same darkness of sasuke’s desire to isolate himself. the latter is a darkness that manifests through sasuke’s final plan: a darkness that is about bearing everybody else’s “hatred” (which would be anger against an enemy) all by himself.

i think that’s pretty objective, actually.

and obviously, another thing that is very objective and explicitly stated is that in order to sasuke’s version of hokage to work, he must cut naruto off, he must be alone so he will be able to endure all the hatred himself.

and then we go back to what i talked about in the beginning of this ask. naruto understands that people grow positively with the support they receive from others.

don’t you think it makes sense of naruto to try to give back the love sasuke gave to him in the beginning of the story, since he himself admits that sasuke and iruka changed his heart? well, that’s pretty much textually supported.

“rather… i pray they’re able to reclaim the love they’d lost… not just naruto… but sasuke as well”

even naruto’s explanation of what “friend” means to him is related to not being able to turn his back to sasuke when sasuke is hurting, and he knows sasuke’s isolation is just a way to hurt himself, it is also textually supported that naruto’s issue is with sasuke being alone.

he just can’t turn his back on sasuke, knowing sasuke is perfectly capable of good, like- is there any doubt to naruto that sasuke is good and deserves the positive support (love) like anybody else? sasuke is the one that doubts himself (because of itachi’s influence on his mindset), but naruto doesn’t even hesitate.

i really hope you were able to get my train of thought and understand that even though there is a narrative trying to frame sasuke as wrong one way or another, not every character believes it, nor you should believe it just because it tells you so. i myself can’t take it seriously when i look at it critically.

[softguarnere]

Hi, Dove!

I saw your post on not doing ship requests anymore, I apologize, I didn't know that you had stopped. I really enjoy reading your work, fic request or one-shot, etc.

I'm not quite sure how to describe this request but it's a Winters x fem!reader oneshot.

I've had this idea in my head that the reader (fem) is a private, or one of the lower ranks (possibly NCO towards the end of the war). Reader pretended to be a man to join the army (like your "Like A Man" fic), and after Winters found out, they started a sort of relationship.

The one-shot request is basically Winters keeps trying to promote her/give her special treatment (allowing her to stay at CP rather than the foxholes, giving extra rations, trying to stop her from going on the patrol from Part 8, etc) because he wants to protect her, but the whole time she expects him to treat her like every other soldier under his command. She loves him, of course, but she doesn't want the special treatment. So yeah, Winters has good intentions (and also wants to show his love because he's a man of action), but she doesn't want to be favored or treated any differently despite their romantic relationship.

I hope this makes sense.

Thanks! Have a great day!

Lucky Stars

Dick Winters x reader

A/N: Somehow this ask temporarily disappeared from my askbox? But it's back now, so we're gonna post this fic while we can 🥳 The entire time that I was writing this, I worried that it would end up being too similar to LAGLAM, since that fic was written as a reader insert at one point. However, because the interactions are with different characters, I'm hoping that I avoided making them feel the same 🤞🏽 Fingers crossed (This is written for the fictional depictions from the show - no disrespect to the real life veterans!) Thanks for the request Anon, and I hope you like this! Warnings: language, improper binding techniques, mentions of war

“This – “ you gesture vaguely and unconvincingly. “ – is not what it looks like.”

Lieutenant Winters drops the box he had, until a few seconds ago, been carrying into the nurses’ station with a real sense of purpose. Now though, it slams to the floor with a painful, heavy slapping noise. Winters himself instantly averts his gaze, but whether from respect for you or embarrassment for himself, you can’t be sure.

You, for your part, stand frozen in the center of the room with an armload full of bandage rolls and health sponges. Which wouldn’t be so bad and could possibly be explained away with an uncomfortable lie of some sort . . . if it weren’t for the fact that the bandages beneath your PT shirt have come undone, leaving your chest decidedly not as flat as those as the other men of Easy Company. In fact, it doesn’t look very manlike at all, as the good Lieutenant had noticed upon entering the room and startling you.

After fumbling for a moment, Winters finally finds his words. “I – uh, I’m sure that there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for this, Private . . .”

“Smith,” you lie.

A gingery eyebrow quirks itself in doubt. Yet, maybe it’s your imagination, but the corner of his mouth twitches, like your fib almost – almost – made him smile.

“Is that your real name?”

On instinct you start to lie again, only to catch yourself. What’s the use, at this point? Lieutenant Winters has been in the room for less than a minute and he’s already figured out that you are not the man that you’ve been claiming to be. Not a man at all, actually – just a woman who’s been disguising herself as one in order to join the army and make those Nazi bastards sorry that they ever killed the wrong girl’s older brother.

“No,” you admit with a sigh.

Winters nods. “Okay, well then.” He picks up the dropped box and sets it on a table before he himself takes a seat beside it. Since joining Easy Company, you’ve noticed that Winters is a pensive man, but he doesn’t take long to come to his decision this time. “Where do you want to begin this story?”

“Sorry?”

“Well, if I’m going to help you keep your secret, I figure that I should probably at least know why you’re doing this to begin with.”

Keep your secret. He’s not reporting you, or having you court martialed. It takes everything in you not to jump for joy.

“Okay,” you say instead. Where’s the proper place to begin this explanation? Winters is watching you expectantly. You clear your throat. “One afternoon, my family got a letter . . .”

. . .

“You know, you don’t have to call me by my rank.”

Alone with Winters, it still takes you aback. He may know your secret, and he may be kind enough to let you come to the home where he’s billeted whenever you need a moment of privacy, but why wouldn’t you call him by his rank?

If you’re being completely honest with yourself, you have imagined it – just not in the way that he’s talking about. Despite your gap in rank, you’ve spent a lot of time around Winters since he learned your secret. And honestly, who wouldn’t find themselves thinking about him as more than a secret keeper after getting to know him? Or even going as far as you have, after one day catching yourself daydreaming about calling him “Dick” and about what the dynamic between you might be under different circumstances. The answer, it would seem, is something that is unattainable under the present conditions. Dick Winters is a gentle soul, and you would hate to see him get hurt because of you.

“You’re my superior officer,” you remind him.

Winters shrugs. “But things are . . . different between us than they are with everyone else.”

“So I get to be an exception?”

Again, he shrugs. “If you want.”

“I don’t want special treatment,” you clarify. “That’s not what I joined up for.”

“Of course.” Winters turns his attention back to the desk with the papers he’s been working on. It sits in front of a small window, and the cool air of the English night blows into the room, fluttering both his hair and his papers ever so slightly. Maybe it can also blow these tempting daydreams from your mind as it passes through.

Without looking up from his paperwork, Dick nods to himself. “Offer still stands.”

You nod before realizing that you’re sitting just out of his peripheral vision. “I’ll think about it.”

. . .

Looking back, it’s hard to pinpoint the time when Winters stopped being Winters and became Dick. Probably at some point between the night when he told you that you didn’t have to call him by his rank and D-Day. After all, it was between those two events that you kissed for the first time – and then several times after that, always in private so as not to be caught.

The same thought from way back in Toccoa echoes through your mind – you would hate to see him get hurt because of you. Although that thought carries more weight to it now with the way that things have changed between you.

Dick being in – and being the one to suggest – a secret relationship is the last thing anyone, including you, would have expected from him. Yet, here you are.

“We’ll keep a low profile,” he suggests.

“We can manage that,” you agree. The secret has been kept safe this long. Now you’re just keeping one more hidden away with the original.

. . .

Keeping a low profile, it would seem, is the herculean task that never seems to get easier. Especially when you have to hide your identity and a secret relationship. So much for going unnoticed.

“We can’t keep doing this,” you sigh.

Startled, Dick looks up from the papers he’s been shuffling through. His eyes go wide as your words sink in.

“That’s not what I mean,” you rush to explain. Attempting to keep your arms crossed for warmth, you manage a vague gesture. “This. Where you give me the special treatment. Someone’s bound to notice.”

“It’s not special treatment. Not really.”

“Because of my – er, circumstance?”

Dick’s face pales. Or maybe it’s just the cold.

“I’ve asked lots of the other men from Easy to be my runner when I think they need a break. Liebgott was here yesterday.”

“But did you tell Lieb that he could spend the night here?”

Of course not. Dick glances away, his cheeks tinging pink. Point proven, then.

You move forward, closing the space between you and taking his hand in yours. You give it a quick squeeze before letting go. After all, there’s always the chance of being caught, which you really can’t risk.

“I appreciate it. Really, I do. I just . . . I’ve got to be treated like all the other men.”

“To make them believe you’re a man?” Dick asks with a raised brow.

“Well, that’s kind of the point of all this.”

That’s it – the secret that makes everything so hard, so necessary to stay off the radar, to hold your cards close to your chest. Disguising yourself as a man to join the Airborne had seemed like such a simple idea when you first came up with it. Putting that idea into practice, though, has been decidedly less straightforward.

Dick – back before he was Dick, to you because he was still Winters – finding out fairly early on may have been a blessing in disguise. For one thing, it brought you together, first as friends, then as a couple – even if your relationship has to remain a secret. But on the other hand, your boyfriend, the kind man that he is, won’t stop trying to take care of you, and you’re worried that someone will notice the special treatment and get you caught.

He's just trying to help in the only way he knows how to show he cares, you remind yourself.

With no one else around, you give him a quick peck on the cheek before stepping away and heading back to the door.

“I’ll see you later, Dick,” you assure him.

He nods, offering you a weak smile. “Stay out of trouble, (Y/N).”

. . .

The word travels quickly: a patrol, tonight, across the river. No one is happy about it – except maybe the new Lieutenant who’s just shown up – and some men have an easier time resigning themselves to their fate than others.

Liebgott is donning one of his trademark smirks when he joins you and several others who were picked to stay behind. You’ve just finished setting up the machine gun on a balcony, aiming it across the river.

“Thought you were on the patrol?”

“My lucky day,” he says with a shrug. “Webster knows German, so he got sent along as translator instead of me. Now I’m here with you lucky bastards.”

A few of the men allow themselves a laugh, either at Liebgott’s description of the events, or in acknowledgement of their own good fortune. You, however, stop short, a question tickling the back of your mind: Were the men picked to go on this patrol totally random? Or is there another reason for your own stroke of luck?

Dick Winters is a lot of things, but a liar is not one of them. You can ask him next time you see him and get your answer, you decide.

You gaze across the river, heart torn as the men around you pass jokes back and forth. You’re incredibly lucky to be on this side of the water.

. . .

There’s nothing in this life that you can’t do. Except, it would appear, ask Dick if he’s been intervening on your behalf.

Every time that you think you’ve worked up the courage, the words become stuck in your throat the second that you attempt to speak them, coming out as nothing more than a barely audible puff of breath.

Today, though, with the war over, it cannot go unacknowledged any longer.

Smiling, you let yourself in to the tent that Dick occupies. He looks up when you enter, smiles when he sees you.

“So . . .” you begin, taking a seat near him.

“So,” he echoes.

You can’t help but let your smile grow. “We did it. We made it through the whole war, secrets intact.”

Dick nods. “It would seem that we have.”

“And no worse for wear,” you add, tapping your sergeant’s stripes on your arm. The promotion should fill you with satisfaction. From the way that Dick looks at them, he feels the sense of pride that you’re missing. It feels like a hollow victory, because you can’t be sure . . . “Was it your idea to promote me?”

Your boyfriend blinks, taken aback. “What?”

“Did I only get this promotion because of you? Please don’t lie,” your voice is quiet, fragile, even. This is an accomplishment that you want to be proud of. However, you can’t feel that way unless its something that you truly earned – on your own with no special treatment.

Dick stands, taking a tentative step toward you. His expression has never been anything but open and honest. That’s true even now.

“No,” he says. “This is something that you earned on your own. Lipton was the one who suggested it.”

Lipton?

“Oh.” Shame washes over you, uncomfortable as a wool sweater in the middle of summer. “I’m so sorry, I just assumed – “

“I know,” Dick interrupts. “It’s okay. I can see why you would think that, considering – “ He makes a vague gesture that somehow encompasses all the times that he’s tried to give you special treatment, only for you to brush him off. “Not me this time, though. Although I wish it had been. Either way, you deserved the stripes, (Y/N).”

The pride you’ve been lacking sneaks into your heart, warming your chest. “Thank you.”

“Not me,” he reminds you with a sly smile. “It was Lipton.”

Playfully, you shove his shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

There’s got to be someone you should thank – not only for the promotion, but for getting you through the war with all your secrets intact. Your lucky stars, maybe. As you grab Dick by the jacket and pull him toward you for a kiss, that’s who you send your gratitude to. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Both of you are breathless when you pull away. For a moment there’s nothing but the peace that settles between two people who are in love as you try to catch your breath. Dick moistens his lips, about the say something, only to be cut off.

“I knew it!” A voice from the entrance of the tent exclaims, startling you both back into reality. Nixon takes a step into the tent as he repeats, “I fucking knew it!”

Well, maybe you thanked your lucky stars too soon.

[heroictoonz]

So, I finished Red vs Blue. Just now like not even a few seconds ago as of writing this post. It was, well to say it bluntly it wasn’t great. I didn’t agree with pretty much most of the endings for these characters and I wish the final season had been longer than less than an hour an a half. Most movies are longer than that these days. But, I will say, that I cried. I cried and sobbed and am still crying writing this because even if I didn’t like how it ended it didn’t end horribly and I can tell it ended in love. All the characters, the ones they had in the season at least, got their emotional 15 minutes of fame. Maybe Tucker didn’t get much at all but, I dunno. As the guy whose only personality trait is liking Tucker RvB I weirdly didn’t mind all too much. Donut wasn’t in it either but he did great in season 17 so I also don’t mind that too terribly.

I will say, I don’t think there was any hope of RvB having an ending that I, personally, would think was ‘good’ or ‘satisfying’. Not perfectly at least. And I don’t say this to be mean. But, this was clearly the kind of show that was meant to run on till it was forced to die. They probably weren’t planning on ending it when they did and it took the company getting taken to pasture for it to be over. With as much random bullshit that they crammed into this show I never much expected for it all to be focused on or tied up in the finale. And this show didn’t start as something that took itself very seriously, but the ending was clearly taken with so much heart and care in mind and that’s all I can ask for from this show, I think.

They ended the show where it began. In a box canyon. They ended the story with Allison and Leonard. The people who unknowingly started all of this in the first place. They did what they could to tie in other loose ends and bring in some really cool ideas to make the ending interesting and still it’s own fun story. It made me sad to watch, honestly. Most the characters I have spent so many years loving just didn’t get the best endings. And I was always afraid of that but, hey maybe I’ll write a fic to give them a better one. Maybe it’s the endings that the RT team thought was most fitting for all of them, and I can understand why. I just, personally, enjoy happy endings. This one wasn’t as happy. But, it had hope in it. Especially Carolina and Wash’s last part. I hate the idea of some of these characters being dead and never coming back. I hate the idea of Grif leaving and never seeing any of the others again. But I get it, I understand the ending and I’m content with it. As weird as that might seem, honestly.

Whenever I finish something I’m always reminded of this Doctor Who episode I watched as a kid where he talks about how much he hates endings. How he will tear the last page from books he reads so they never have to end. It’s funny that without fail I think of that episode, that scene. Because in that episode the Doctor is forced to face an ending. One he doesn’t want but accepts anyways. This is me rambling but, I think every time I finish something I love this much and have loved for this long, whether the ending it good or bad, I think I understand that random Doctor Who episode more and more each time.

Did I like the ending season of Red vs Blue? Not fully. The ideas were cool but as with most of this show the execution wasn’t the best in my opinion. But, maybe I’m just a hard ass lol. But the ending did make me laugh, it made me cry, it made me smile and stim and feel. The ending made me feel. And it was a pretty good send off to a pretty great show. And hell, they got an ending. That’s harder to come by these days. Maybe that’s all I can ask for from it. Maybe that’s why even in my tears I’m content more than any other emotion.

But, it’s also weird. Like a really long chapter of my life is closing. I think this is also where I have to officially accept what happened to RT. As someone who’s followed RWBY, RvB, and Camp Camp for a really long time not to mention the lives and their gaming channel and all of that, it feels weird? Kinda bad, honestly, to see it end. I’ve, admittedly, been avoiding it. Avoiding talking or thinking about it. And I doubt the guys told all the stories they had for this show, but I’m glad they got to end it. I’m glad they got at least that much.

It’s 2am and I have work in about 14 hours. I think I’m gonna go read fanfiction.

[lanaconfesses]

"Save me or I’ll die from sadness right now."

That’s the message I send to Adrian. He replies immediately (once, he confessed that he has a special notification sound just for our chat).

"What did he do this time?"

I don’t know how, but it feels like Adrian can sense everything in my head and soul. I’m starting to worry he can read thoughts – at least mine.

"How do you know it’s about Alex?"

Alex is my… well, it’s complicated. We started dating last Christmas, broke up in May, and hadn’t talked until September – he blocked me, leaving me alone with three awful months of pure hysteria. Just as I was starting to recover from everything, he unblocked me and wrote (partly thanks to my bestie, but I’ll tell you that story another time), and now he writes every so often – maybe once a month. And a couple of weeks ago, we somehow confessed our love for each other, and now it’s just a complete mess trying to figure out what the hell is going on between us.

"Who else could it be about?"

I exhale and finally decide to vent to Adrian, even though he already dislikes Alex enough.

"Well, nothing specific really. It’s just that his replies are so cold, I can feel the chill through the screen. Like he doesn’t even care. I get it, depression and all that, but…"

"Little shit. Don’t cry over him, princess. Want me to do something to make you feel better?"

And that’s how I ended up in Adrian’s car that evening. He showed up under my building as a surprise – told me to come down, we’re going for a ride.

So now we’re driving through the city at night – no particular destination, just cruising. I happily admire the city lights like a cat at Christmas tree. Adrian laughs at me and drives, playing the music I like. First, we hit the city highway – speeding through downtown. Neon signs – blue, pink, purple. Traffic lights – red, yellow, emerald. The lights in the windows – white. Street lamps – blue and orange. My eyes dissolve into all these colors, unfocus, relax. Alex’s face finally fades away (whether my eyes are open or closed).

Then we drive onto a road that takes us between the city park and the lake. My body melts into the passenger seat. I imagine I’m lying on the water – on the surface of the cold December lake. I’m lying there, drifting on small waves, not sinking, not swimming, just lying. Under me, huge catfish swim, as big as logs, looking like tree trunks fallen into the water, but I don’t care. I’m just lying there, staring at the starry sky. Alex is probably looking at it too right now – standing on his balcony, holding a cigarette between his fingers.

"Are you already asleep, kid?" Adrian laughs at me.

"Don’t call me a kid," I pretend to be offended, but the satisfied smile betrays my insincerity.

Adrian calls me that a lot, and honestly, he has every right to. He’s older than me – he’s 27, I’m 20, and he’s known me since I was literally a kid. Our families have been friends for a long time, so Adrian used to babysit me during family gatherings. He probably wasn’t thrilled about it back then, but as you can see, he still babysits me now.

"Are you not so sad anymore?" he asks, concern in his voice.

I shake my head, though I’m still sad – it’s just that at least now I don’t feel abandoned or unwanted. I’m tempted to snap a photo and post it on social media so Alex can see that I’m out with someone, but I don’t do it – he (unfortunately or fortunately) isn’t stupid and would figure out that I did it on purpose for him. And I don’t want that. I’ve already humiliated myself enough in front of him.

"So, maybe you’ll tell me what happened between you two?"

I flinch, remembering. I’m angry at Alex, even though I’m still in love with him. It’s such a weird feeling – loving and being furious at the same time. You know, something in between "I hope you die" and "I’ll die without you."

"Well, nothing...," I exhale heavily. "It seems to be sorting itself out. We started texting a little. But he doesn’t reply for a long time, doesn’t read my messages, answers unwillingly... I asked if he even wanted me to write, and he said ‘I’m all for it.’ I just don’t understand what’s going on. Alex is… well, Alex."

Adrian laughs and shakes his head.

"And the most important thing I feel is that he still loves me. It’s just that his love is so strange. It’s like… it’s not really love at all."

"Love can be different," Adrian says philosophically as he turns onto a narrow two-lane road on the other side of the lake. The streetlights flicker in different colors, and I stare again like a cat at a Christmas tree. "Just because he loves you differently than you’d like doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you at all. Besides, you said he’s depressed."

"Depressed," I sigh, confirming. "I know. It’s just so hard for me. I want everything to be completely different from how it is."

"Distance also plays a role," Adrian continues to comfort me. "If you were in the same city right now, you’d already have gone on a few dates, kissed in some dark alley, and your love would have flared up again."

"If we were in the same city, we wouldn’t have broken up!" I scoff. "Everything got ruined with that rushed attempt to live together."

"Well, screw it," Adrian shrugs. "You can see for yourself, something brought you two back together anyway. Give the guy a chance to get out of his depression, after all."

"Since when are you defending him?" I laugh.

"If I say everything I really want to, you’ll scratch my eyes out, and we’ll crash somewhere."

I laugh. It’s true: only I can say nasty things about Alex, and only when I’m justifiably angry with him. And I’m always justifiably angry because I’m such a fair person and definitely not an overly emotional girl, I swear.

"Hungry?"

It’s not that my stomach is hungry, but I have a very bad habit of eating away sadness, anger, tears, and pretty much everything else.

"A little."

We stand by the McDonald's until we've eaten everything we ordered. I've always envied Adrian for being able to eat as much as he wants and stay as skinny as a dried fish – I wish I had that superpower too. He's finishing his third burger, choking on laughter from my jokes, while I can't finish my one single burger, still laughing at some nonsense, even though I know that tomorrow morning, after this midnight snack, it's probably better not to step on the scale.

It’s snowing outside. Against the streetlight, I can see how tiny snowflakes fall slowly, spinning in the air. Our jackets are on the back seat, and I also envy Adrian for having the superpower to go outside in just a turtleneck and not freeze. Lana Del Rey is singing about the West Coast on the radio, and it contrasts so much with the landscape outside the windshield that I feel like I'm in a dream.

"Not so angry anymore?" Adrian laughs, biting into a nugget.

"I think I overate" I groan, weakly leaning back on the seat and gently patting my stomach.

Adrian chuckles softly.

"What could you have overeaten? Are you on your diets again? "

I've been on diets for as long as I can remember, and for as long as I can remember, I’ve been losing weight, then slipping and gaining it back. During the three months I was lying in bed, crying 24/7, I gained weight from stress, so now it's that period when I'm trying to lose it again. The endless circle of diets in my life. It would break if I had the strength to get into the habit of normal eating and some exercise, but I’m either too lazy or too weak-willed.

"No, I’m not on a diet," I deny, because Adrian will scold me if I admit it. He’s the type of person who constantly tells me that losing weight this way is dangerous, but who listens to him? Maybe someday I’ll get tired of it all, and I’ll actually listen to his advice, but probably not in this life. "It’s just that I can’t eat as much in one go as you."

He bursts out laughing. Adrian never believes me when I say I get full eating so little. No one really believes me. Maybe they would if I were thin, but I’m not.

He wipes his mouth and hands with the napkin I kindly offered, tucks his long dark-blonde hair behind his ears (it came out of the knot on the back of his neck), and drinks some cola.

"Should I take you home, or do you want to stop at the gas station with me and drive around a bit more?"

I don’t want to go home – there, I’ll lock myself in my room and cry over Alex again. So, the bright lit-up “M” fades behind us, and we head to the outskirts of the city.

At the gas station, Adrian gets out to fill up the tank and pay, while I stay in the car and sing along. Honestly, after the burger and Fanta, my mood has improved. Even though the song is sad (it’s Lana Del Rey! whose other songs can exist for you in the period when you are suffering because of a boyfriend?), I’m almost dancing in my seat, imagining I’m singing on stage, occasionally looking at Alex in the audience, who’s shedding a solitary tear, realizing from the lyrics how deeply he’s hurt me with his behavior. And I sing to him, and to thousands of other cold, distant guys who can’t return their girlfriends’ love. Too bad it's just fantasy, and even if it were true, Alex wouldn’t care about what I’m singing about. A sad song is just a sad song, what’s there to think about?

It’s not that he changed in any special way. From the very beginning of our relationship, he wasn’t very open with his affections – that’s just who he is. Along with his natural secrecy and phlegmatic nature, he also has depression and struggles with studying, so blaming him is truly pointless. But I still wanted our relationship to look different. I wanted to go on dates with him, kiss under streetlights, send each other cute love memes in the chat, and feel… well, you know, like a girl who has a boyfriend. I bite my cheek, unwilling to admit the real thought that’s been running through my mind all evening: it should have been Alex driving me around the city at night, feeding me at McDonald's, and entertaining me with funny jokes, not Adrian. Although, Alex doesn’t have a driver’s license or a car, but you get what I mean.

Adrian comes back with a couple of my favorite candy bars and insists on pushing them into my hands.

"Here, keep them in case you get hit with another love slump."

I laugh weakly and put the candy bars in my purse. Something tells me I’ll end up eating them tonight, to the sound of sad songs (I have a separate playlist called “him❤️‍🩹” filled with a bunch of sad songs, what a shame, yeah?), if I don’t forget they’re in my purse and they don’t melt.

"Come on, stop moping," he pats me encouragingly on the shoulder. "Two depressed people in one couple is a bit too much. Someone has to stay alright."

I laugh out of obligation, tilt my head on my shoulder, and admire the snowstorm that’s gotten stronger while we were at the gas station. Something tells me that tonight, in my journal, I’ll draw myself with Alex, dreaming about what could have been if it had been him, instead of Adrian, tonight.

[no-thoughts-only-soup]

yall didn’t like the recreyo ending? I definitely think there could have been more but what are your issues with it? I don’t mean this in a neg way btw, just want to hear other perspectives

Ok uhhhhh the reblogs in this post essentially contain most of our opinions but tbf it quickly devolved into “you know when you think about the Recreyo lore it makes no goddamn sense”

https://www.tumblr.com/datssokoolwhat/750599250631704576/i-trust-you-guys-to-take-the-voting-very

But to make a long story as short as possible: while we 100% understand the limitations the crew had (since y’know, suddenly we need to write an ending and yall) we’re mostly just disappointed in that it didn’t use most of its existing lore and instead introduced some last minute, barebones villain with some lore that somehow feels incredibly complex and incredibly confusing and meaningless.

The long story:

In my specific case: it didn’t feel like an ending.

A finale’s job is to be an end. Loose threads get tied up. The plot comes to a conclusion. The characters say goodbye.

And all of this could have happened if they simply gave an in-universe explanation as to why Recreyo can’t continue. I feel like they tried explaining that in part 2 with the entire “giving Ao’s energy back to the tears”, but it’s still way too vague and it doesn’t return in part 3, the actual ending ending (how does fixing the tears prevent them from opening a new portal, if Ai and Ao are the problem why are they a problem now ect) and there could have been a much more simple explanation: Maybe to defeat Ai, the plushies aren’t enough and they need to use the power of their portal creation to do it. Maybe Ao betrays them after defeating Ai and the only way to avoid the choice of which twin to keep empowering, they have to permanently seal the multiverse. Maybe the multiverse can’t be saved, and never opening a portal again after returning home is the best way to keep it from collapsing.

But there is nothing. And thus there is no in-universe explanation as to why the adventure can’t continue. And well “the adventure continues” can work well for some stories, it doesn’t work here, aside from teasing new things on their own channels (which still wouldn’t explain why Recreyo disbands in-universe).

And then there is the plot of the finale itself. Evil twin of former baddy who has up to this point never been mentioned before causes problems for reasons never explained or explored, said baddy is incredibly flat, has like 8 very generic lines and only actually appears in the last episode, where they are quickly defeated. The entirety of part 2 is just crack fixing, and the new lore is incredibly confusing.

All in all, it feels like they wanted too much for the finale, but there wasn’t enough time to properly use it.

I will admit there are a lot of great parts about the finale! The banter and humor is very fun, it’s great to see Ao and her awesome voice actress again (shoutout to Kowaitea), I love part 1 and how it feels everyone is participating in it rather than being it mostly Curt, I love the attempted scenarios, I just love it like Recreyo videos.

It’s fine as a Recreyo video. It just sucks as a story imo lol.

[leonardalphachurch]

Hey, found your recent ace donut post and wanted to share my thoughts on it. First as an ace person, it comes off acephobic, I know that was definitely not the intent but it still comes across that way. Especially in your remark about “ace tumblr user”.

Secondly I think my only real issue with the post was how seriously you took donut being gay as canon. Perhaps it’s just my perspective, but Donut to me has always been a big gay joke by the writers. So much so that it took me awhile to start to like him as a character because a lot of the time it felt like he was just there to be a cruel caricature of a gay person. A lot of the jokes felt hurtful, as some who has seen people irl say similar jokes about gay people, and the way other characters treated him upset me a lot. Overtime I learned to like Donut a lot but I really kept in mind how the writers saw him and treated him. He never seemed like an earnest representation, he felt like the punchline of a bigoted joke. Finally asexuality is a spectrum and many ace people make alot of sex/innuendos so it’s not completely out of left field to assume maybe that’s just how he expresses being ace. While I know that was not and never was the writers intent it does seem possible to assume that he could just be a flirty ace.

tldr: the writers are both ace and homophobic, I think the “gotcha” of making him ace was bad but he wasn’t great representation before. And if this is too much feel free to delete it, from your bio you’ve been in this community much longer than I have, and o like a lot of your posts !

1) i think you are a little bit reading me in bad faith here. when i say “ace tumblr user” i mean an asexual person who uses tumblr. nothing more, nothing less. i’m talking about how some random fandom member who makes a post about donut being ace isn’t really causing any material harm and therefore i don’t really care very much about it. when i say “ace tumblr user” i am making it clear that i’m critiquing the showrunners (and the fandom’s response to the showrunners) rather than any individual member of the fandom headcanoning donut as ace.

2) i think you are misunderstanding my point about donut being canonically gay (which is fair enough, that post doesn’t really go into it). i do not consider donut to be good representation (or really representation at all?). i think he is a pretty offensive homophobic caricature. i ALSO think, however, that taking your offensive homophobic caricature and having the culmination of 20 years of jokes about his sexuality be this:

is. homophobic. the joke here is “what, you thought the character that we constantly made gay jokes about was actually gay? you thought the guy who consistently expressed interest in sexual acts with men was gay for real? well he’s not, and actually if you thought that he was you’re just perpetuating stereotypes” and that’s. that sucks. i think taking a character that’s offensive representation and trying to cover it up by saying he was never what he was representing in the first place is NOT the way to handle this. and. to be clear. as a bisexual man i would be making these exact same posts if the punchline here was that he was bi. the joke of “you thought the gay stereotype was gay but he really wasn’t!” is a common homophobic joke and the punchline being another queer identity doesn’t make it any less homophobic.

3) i know asexuality is a spectrum. i talked in the post about how it’s possible to write donut as ace without erasing his sexual and romantic interest in men. i don’t mean to sound rude here but i genuinely don’t know how to make it clearer than me literally saying “it’s not the act of making him ace that’s homophobic” and “if you maintain [his interest in men] while making him ace […] that’s not homophobic.” my favorite interpretation of donut literally has him as aroace. i’m not talking about the way people want to interpret the writing. i’m critiquing the writing itself.

and like. man. i just feel like asexual people deserve better than to have their identity be the punchline of a 20 year long gay joke?? like i am overstepping my boundaries here but. like. i don’t know! i think you deserve more than this! i think you deserve rep that’s more caring than “wouldn’t it be funny if the guy who talked a lot about sex… DIDN’T LIKE SEX???”

also please don’t feel like me being in the fandom for a long time means that you can’t critique me. like, i disagree with your analysis of what i’m saying here but i have absolutely no authority and if i say something you disagree with you are always welcome to discuss it with me

[jkuniverz]

Ok, first long MSM post, let’s see how this goes.

Do you ever think about how all the Rare Core Seasonals follow a specific design principle? While the Commons are basic embodiments of whatever holiday they’re meant to represent, the Rares tend to take a negative aspect of that holiday and incorporate it into their design.

For example, let’s look at Punkleton for a second:

Pumpkin head, skeletal body, autumnal leaves decorating the neck and arms- yup, this sure is a Halloween Monster all right!

So what about Rare Punkleton then?

Well, since the poor guys’s head decomposes faster than usual, it dresses up in a paper bag to help hide itself from other Monsters. It’s taking the Halloween aspect of costumes and dressing up and using it to cover up this Monster’s insecurity, especially since it uses a brown paper bag to cover its head, which often in media represents embarrassment or shame at oneself.

I’m not sure if I did the *best* job at describing that, but looking at the other Rare Core Seasonals will hopefully better convey what I mean.

So, we’ve got:

-Rare Yool: based off of the Grinch and social outcasts

-Rare Schmoochle: have had conflicts and quarrels with one another

-Rare Blabbit: inversely steals Monster Eggs and covers its tracks well

-Rare Hoola: uses their extra hoop to distract Monsters while tricking them

…Ok, so the theme between them is a little loose, but hopefully you’re able to understand what I’m getting at. There’s some negative aspect to its respective holidays that the Rare Seasonals incorporate into its design and lore.

…but that’s just the Rare Core Seasonals. What about the Rare Auxiliary Seasonals? Do they follow this design principle as well?

Let’s take a look at the current 3 Rare Auxiliary Seasonals:

Rare Gobbleygourds have an indomitable will to try and fly- it’s all they really do. How this is supposed to be a negative aspect of Thanksgiving is… beyond me. Maybe it’s that it mirrors Gobbleygourd’s intense desire to feed everyone during Feast-Ember, but all Rare Gobbleygourd does it hurt itself? I don’t know.

All that we know about Rare Jam Boree is that it’s made of chocolate (or rather, chokkolit), and it may have something to do with poems, as it’s ingame Bio reads like one. Maybe Rare Jam Boree likes to write poems in celebration of events? It’s definitely a more deep and meaningful way to celebrate, by writing it down in contrast to plain partying, so there’s that.

Finally, there’s Rare Clavavera. I’m not too familiar with the Day of the Dead holiday, so I don’t really feel confident about pointing out any sort of reference it may have to its real life holiday equivalent. Though, it’s Bio does state that, “Unique to the Rare… is a special interest in writing of short, witty verses that poke light-hearted fun at those same ancestors”, so that may be the aspect of the Monster that fits with the Rare Seasonal theme?… though, I can’t say for sure.

It doesn’t look like the old Rare Seasonal design philosophy is being followed necessarily anymore, at least not with my analysis. Maybe it is, and I’m just not realizing it. Maybe there’s no such thing as a design theme with Rare Seasonals and I’m just a crazy man on the internet rambling about something that doesn’t matter. Regardless of that, I’m going to make small predictions for the next two Rare Aux Seasonals anyways that follow this probably made-up theme, and no one’s going to stop me.

The next Rare Seasonal to be released will be Rare Carillong, coming sometime soon. For it, I predict it to be based off of/poke fun at New Year Resolutions, and more specifically, how no one can ever follow them. The design would be more rugged and unkempt compared to the Common Carillong’s, maybe with frizzled hair, wear showing on the Chimekeeper, and so on. It’d be funny to imagine Rare Carillong as a hypocrite, preaching about turning over a new leaf and setting goals at the start of the year that it itself clearly doesn’t follow.

After that, we’ve got Rare Ffidyll, which I think would be cool if it were the unluckies Monster in the Monster World. Its nose can only sniff out disaster instead of money, it would look slightly beaten from all sorts of comical trouble it’s gotten in, and to show how unlucky it is, its clover hat would only have three petals.

Will these be accurate predictions for the next two Rare Aux Seasonals, following this theme I may have made up? Probably not. But it would be funny!

[miumiumandoodz]

somewhat related to the previous post but never once I rest my thoughts on why I can’t actually ship Jayce and Mel despite them being completely both my type and are the kind of characters I would enjoy shipping together. Like something just doesn’t snap to me. Now that I’ve seen the ending, I think it was also deliberate from the writers to not actually write them as a “shippable couple” in a sense. I bet the writers are smart enough to know their demographic.

Initially I just thought that Mel is so gorgeous, that even Jayce doesn’t deserve her. Later on, I realized that the two were just not portrayed to fall in love in a vulnerable way. Like, something crush them and they find pieces in each other kinda way. Take a look at CaitVi for example. They’re both trying to make sense the world around them and find pieces in each other — realizing that maybe they’re more similar that their differences make out to be, but when it comes to Jayce and Mel, nothing are sort of vulnerable out of the two to warrant that kind of connection and it makes it so hard for me to invest. Plot wise, this makes sense because initially we see that Mel only sees Jayce as an investment. Another trick on her sleeve. Something useful later. And he’s such an naive bottom puppy he’d say yes and played into her strings. And Jayce is… well. A naive bottom puppy. Who could blame him. A gorgeous girl is taking an interest on you, of course you’d say yes. But there’s nothing to it other than that. We see Mel gradually kinda let her guard down and catching feelings, but she’s still putting that facade and Jayce is too dumb to notice further other than “pretty girl likes me :3”

Only after Mel unlocks her black rose powers and Jayce got vomited out from the dystopian future they become kinda shippable to me because by that time, Mel is vulnerable. Jayce is vulnerable. There’s conflict. Jayce finally notices what he is to Mel initially and Mel tries to defend it was a wise choice to make. But it’s too late to even show her vulnerability to Jayce or to even prove whether or not she has feelings for him because 1.) war is at bay 2.) the story needs to wrap itself up 3.) Vik is Jayce’s endgame all along. But now I understand that apparently yeah — if they’re shippable, it’s in this kind of moment where there’s vulnerability and conflict, but by that moment, it’s way too late for me, as a viewer, to even wanna invest.

I feel like the ending is bittersweet in a way that Mel kinda sorts out her personal dilemma but loses a lot, including Jayce — not only because he sacrifices himself to undo what he has done but also, again, by the time she realizes that she might actually care about Jayce, it’s all too late. And it’s kinda sad knowing that Mel pushes that feelings down anyway because it’s clear where she thinks her duty lies. I do feel a bit sad for her. As a standalone character, I do feel like she is quite rounded up. I agree with the major opinion on some of the pacing in s2, especially her arc, but overall, I get it and I invest to her character all the way through even though I don’t invest to her early season romance with Jayce.

Anyway, this is by no means an attack to JayceMel. This is more of like a personal observation in how writers influence you as a viewer through storytelling and character relationships.

[here-lies-golden-kamuy]

The Case of Ogata Hyakunosuke and Love

I’ve been rewatching GK for the past few days and I can’t help but think of Ogata, so for my first post, I’ll be listing my thoughts and headcanons on Ogata and love in general. 

MAJOR manga spoilers and a lot of thoughts under the cut! 

[Part 2]

Okay to start off…in canon, Ogata doesn’t believe in the word (and perhaps the concept) of “love” — in his words love is “as vague and uncertain an existence as the gods” (chapter 103, page 11). But I argue that while he doesn’t consciously believe it, he still seeks for it. 

It’s canon that Ogata (through aconite poisoning in chapter 310) later realizes that maybe he wasn’t born “defective” or “lacking” (chapter 310, 103), which means that he canonically does feel emotions and has desires that he thought he didn’t (the cognitive dissonance for this boy…no wonder he uh reacted that way in the end). One of these emotions and desires is love in itself. 

One of these days, I’ll probably talk about how Ogata’s experience of childhood neglect paved the way for his extreme disassociation with deeper and more complex emotions. But for now, I argue that Ogata can and has loved before, though very limited. In fact, here are who I think are the only three people he ever loved in his life: his mom (and by extension his grandparents), Yuusaku, and Asirpa. 

Yes, I hc that he loved both Yuusaku and Asirpa (I think his love for his mom is pretty obvious, though a little messed up…very Ogatacore if you ask me) in his own…. complicated way. But I think he loved them for one major reason — they loved and cared for him back. 

Which brings me to my major argument: Ogata craves love because of his less-than-savory upbringing but (1) doesn’t exactly realize that he does in the first place, and (2) does not exactly recognize nor react well when he is loved. This may arise from the fact that Ogata sees love as something that is obligatorily passed on from one source to another, rather than something that may evolve given time, effort, and patience. I personally think Ogata is attracted (not inherently romantic) to people who love and care for him first. 

It’ll be too long if I write all the points of the argument, so for this portion, I’ll just focus on the first point. 

First point: Ogata craves love, but he’s (for lack of a better term) shit at recognizing, receiving, and giving love. There’s no doubt that he craves for love — we’re privy to flashbacks of him wanting his mom to “look” at him as a child (chapter 304, page 6). He unconsciously wants to experience the things that a person would when given healthy love: validation, acceptance, protection, etc. And that desire is completely normal and valid! 

And yet, a big part of why he’s bad at love is that he wasn’t modeled a good and healthy concept of love. Like all children, Ogata’s first model of love was his parent. His mom was love incarnate for him. But love for him was a woman losing her grip on her own self-concept and reality because of longing and “love”. Love for him was being overlooked by someone else. So, because of this horrible representation of love, he learns to detest (but also become subconsciously obsessed with) love. 

And it’s very interesting for him to come into this “insight” that love is mainly something shared by parents and passed on to a child. His first encounter of love was a woman who didn’t see him (random note: I hc that for Ogata to feel loved, he first needs to be “seen” for who he is) for who he is, eyes steadfast on the man who left her. His first model of love was unequal and unfair: this imbalance caused him to think he wasn’t “given” the ability to love when he was born. 

Right now, I’m wondering why Ogata felt guilty for killing Yuusaku but not his mom, when they’re both beloved by him. I argue it’s because Ogata killed his mom out of love (yes, in a fucked-up way). He killed her so that the person she loves will finally come to her. In a very child-like manner, it’s quite…. “selfless” and “innocent” of Ogata to think of his mom’s love (his father) first and think of himself and her supposed love for him second (chapter 103, page 09). 

When Hanazawa senior challenges him that Ogata “felt disgusted” in seeing his mother’s “pitiful, deranged state” (chapter 103, page 11), I argue that Ogata still defends his mom when he replies that “children can’t choose their parents”. He didn’t choose a mom that had an apparent mental health problem. He didn’t choose to have his mom, but she was his mom and he loved her. He still craved her love. 

[pidgecv]

early morning ramblings///

posting this for funsies

pidge talks about romance as horror for far too long and makes no sense in the process 2024 colorized

relationships as a vessel for psychological horror has always been something that fascinates me. take killing stalking for example. a viscerally disgusting and terrible work of horror fiction that i honestly find really compelling conceptually. now did SOME of the fandom™️ completely miss the point and just go “omg yaoi” yes, they did. and yeah the story is like,, not my thing exactly in execution i didn’t finish the comic itself. im not the biggest fan of gore and it crossed my personal line into shock horror (got a bit too into the wrong kind of uncomfortable) but it’s all preference. however, the inherent horror of things like stockholm syndrome, or the idea of a frankenstein being infatuated with his monster not because of who they are but because he made them are both SO interesting. imagine a person loving someone who they have manipulated and abused past the point of humanity. not romantically necessarily (though yeah that’s totally a thing, that all-consuming fascination being misunderstood as a sick romance) rather like a personal project they’re absolutely obsessed with. their creation. except that creation has feelings as well. or maybe in extreme cases, used to at least. problem is it’s difficult to write platonically, since a lot of that stuff can come off as romanticizing abuse and it’s a very delicate topic. deffo easier to have someone eat their own arm and call it a day. going back to stockholm syndrome, in a way it’s a removal of agency (which is a staple of horror media lol). so the horror could be applied both ways, the obsessed and the obsession. the monster and its twisted creator. the inhuman and the inhumane. idk it’s just so damn interesting. it gets complicated and tricky to pull off, but horror doesn’t mix well with cut corners. i may try and expand on this sort of idea but in a far less extreme way for the swapverse. absolutely nothing romantic, in fact i headcanon (or i guess canon?) both versions of cleo as aroace (fully, not just somewhere in the middle of the aroace spectrum but completely disinterested in romance and sex repulsed) ((mostly just wanted to explore familial and platonic bonds without having to consider any sort of romantic stuff)) (((yes s!cleo had a boyfriend pre apox. it was qpr, they were both aroace but were besties for the resties and were gonna marry for tax purposes))). but i’d love to pull off a platonic obsession. jo would absolutely obsess over her work. she would be so proud of herself for creating cleo. living (debatably) proof of her skill. her magnum opus. every success of cleo’s is actually jos, but also every failure is taken the same way. jo sees it as her own failure, and takes out that selfish anger on cleo or even V sometimes. cleo struggles with her humanity. she was one of the first infected. not patient 0, but one of the first. early enough to have been institutionalized and studied at least. and jo has twisted her memories so much that cleo doesn’t know anything about herself except that she belongs to jo. she’s property, a dangerous weapon. that’s what makes their deaths so poetic. jo dies at the hands of V, through her own weapon. because while cleo hit the detonator, it was V who rigged the bomb. Cleo and jo depend on each other so much. the way you need the sword to cut but the sword needs you to polish. to sharpen. even to forge. of course V is the only one who survives. cleo was never going to be able to live without jo and vice versa. they weren’t friends. they weren’t family. they were something else entirely, something torturous and hateful and tragic. a dynamic of lies and manipulation and cruelty. they died as they lived, together. while the original final lives cast was threatened by the new world, they managed to overcome it by being a team. in the swapverse, the outside world was never the threat. they dominated the apocalypse, thriving compared to the og crew. but they were torn apart from the inside, and they couldn’t overcome it. yet another reflection of the original cast. i was gonna type more but hit tumblr limit goodnight fazgang

[alagaesia-headcanons]

Snippet time!!! This will be the final snippet I'm going to post from act 1, it's been really fun to post all these! I hope you guys have enjoyed them too!

...

In quiet moments while they labor over menial tasks, Orrin asks after Irwin, about his days, about his family. He wants to know him. He has a wife who currently lives in their estate up in Lithgow, along with their son who Orrin is amused and endeared to discover that Irwin dotes on. He sings his praises every chance he gets, lauding his son’s growth into a capable, accomplished young man. Orrin listens with a small smile while he rambles about his pride and confidence in him. “I hope to bring him to live here soon,” he mentions once, “so he might benefit from the opportunities the capital has to offer.”

“Tell me whenever you plan to go through with that. I’ll make sure there’s a room open and prepared for him in the castle as well. It’d serve to help him better learn about your work here, after all.”

Irwin clasps a weathered hand just above the crook of Orrin’s elbow. “That’s very gracious of you, thank you,” he says warmly. “I’m grateful for your kindness. And that will make it a simple matter for me to introduce you to him too. I think you’ll really get along.”

“I look forward to it,” Orrin remarks quietly, smiling to himself as he inks his pen to continue writing. That much is yet to be seen, but he nevertheless enjoys the enthusiasm Irwin expresses towards his son. It’s touching. Those details and interactions make Orrin feel like he’s gradually getting to know Irwin as a person, more insightful and sincere than knowing him only as his advisor. He starts to find the sort of understanding he could build trust upon.

Out of that budding trust, Orrin promptly calls on his help when an issue presents itself one night. Irwin finds him turning his desk upside down, restlessly searching through the excessive stacks of parchment drowning it, shifting piles aside onto the dresser, floor, and any other available surface. “Sir?” he questions, peering around to see what he’s trying to do.

“A section of the draft is missing,” Orrin announces, voice tinged with poorly restrained agitation. “The tail end of the requirements for prospective heirs and the beginning of the selection process. It should be about fifteen sheets, maybe more.” He lifts a stack for the third time to reveal that the missing papers haven’t magically appeared beneath it in the last five minutes. He forces out a strained breath. “I don’t know where they could be.”

“That’s concerning,” Irwin comments, carefully stepping around the things on the floor to come closer. “But surely it’s around here somewhere. No need to panic. You do keep a great deal of papers scattered around here... Don’t you think it could have gotten mixed up with something else as you worked? Things are already- tricky to keep track of.”

“It’s not a mess,” Orrin snaps. “There’s a method I use to organize everything, even though you don’t understand it. And so I know exactly where this section should be and it’s not there.” His particular and perhaps a bit convoluted system to keep things in order has been a repeated conversation between them, as Irwin likes to claim it doesn’t exist, but now it lacks the light hearted edge it usually has. Orrin runs a hand over his face and forces himself to stand straight for a moment. “Besides. I’ve searched through everything thoroughly, multiple times before I called on you. If I’d just misplaced it with something else, I would have found it. It’s not here.”

...

[I'll update this post with a link here when the fic is published ❤]