Work Text:
[June 23, 2023]
There is a longstanding controversial question when it comes to studying mythological entities: What is cupid? Some have argued Cupid is the personification of a moment - the moment when love first strikes - while others contend that cupid is an actual entity working hard to match people through manipulation of luck and circumstances.
None of this is the entire story, of course.
In fact Cupid goes by many names and lives many lives, for how else could they bring love to all the people of this and all the other worlds? Cupid is an organization. A bureaucracy. An army of matchmakers working tirelessly to create the situations where love can thrive. But today? Today we are following cupid #623, who goes by one name: Jimmy. Or James. Or Jim. So really three names. At a minimum.
Now, working in a combination office park and shopping mall has afforded
cupid#623
Jimmy many chances to create love. Or at least the sparks and beginnings of love. In the past three months alone Jimmy has shot his metaphorical arrow at two workers in
Santa’s Village
, some hapless teenagers at the
Build-a-bear
, not to mention sprinkling a healthy amount of inspiration at sheer-shirts-are-us (
a surprisingly successful niche store
) to set the path for not just
one
but
TWO
future match makings that he would claim at least partial credit for.
There were, of course, the easy matches. First dates were reliable, spilling popcorn at the latest Marvel movie or Men in Black remake. Once he orchestrated a match at the live action Power Rangers kids show, having two of the spandex superheroes fumble their acrobatics, knocking into two harried single parents . But these meetings presented no challenge to Jimmy, and the payoff as such, while satisfying, didn’t have the same rush as those the truly ingenious scenarios he had heard from other Cupids in the field.
Sure–if he wanted to get his stats up, he could hang out near the music store or the pet store. Hell, you put someone on the drums and he barely even needed to put in any work. Same goes for cuddling puppies or running hands through soft bunny fur, or even the occasional pet training courses that were hosted there - the love just happens almost without his input.
But today Jimmy was on the hunt for that perfect love story. One that would stand the test of time and could be repeated endlessly, over and over, variation after variation, and always turn out the same. Because when two souls are a perfect match, the ripples extend and reverberate across all alternate universes.
It's what they call an “Oreo” in the biz. Presumably because a simple love match is not so different than a simple chocolate and cream cookie, two wonderful complimentary flavors, and meanwhile the ripples and reverberations in the neighboring universes create love matches out of insane circumstances, much like shoving in popping candy, galaxy colors, and marshmallow flavoring should mean that the result can hardly be considered the same cookie, and yet the simple match in our universe creates the outlandish matches in others.
Why, just last week, Cupid #6269 (who goes by the name Boaty) created an “oreo” in Universe #42, the echos of which caused a Werewolf and Biker in Florida to fall in love, as they sat, trapped on top of a rollercoaster . And if you think that’s just an insane aside to try and somehow shoehorn a reference to a Werewolf, a Biker, and an amusement park into an unrelated story, you just don’t understand how true love works. Clearly.
The matches were precarious though - one wrong move and the string snaps, breaking them not just in this universe but all others.
Now, where were we?
Ahh yes… the
pit of despair
the office park.
Jimmy was on the hunt for his oreo, and the chance to finally emerge as one of the top cupids here in universe 34. He woke up each morning scanning each visitor's aura, looking for the perfect match. The perfect blend. He read their thoughts - yes, cupids can read minds too, it's a plot device - looking for that mutual attraction.
And that day, June 23th, 2023, it hit him like a coconut falling out of the sky. As a tall, ginger man stood, eyefucking a muffin, Jimmy saw the twinkle of a pun run through his head, and there beside him, was a slight, curly haired man, eyefucking the ginger, with a matched pun .
Do you know how rare it is to see a pun-match? It's the rarest of rare. As rare as an Oreo in bi-flag colors. (The cookie, not the metaphysical soul mate match). As rare as two gifs of kangaroos synced perfectly with each other as they punch the air oceans apart.
Jimmy kept an eye on the two men as they entered the elevator. This was his chance. Quickly he ran up to the control room, panicked, and began throwing gears and pushing buttons. To hell with the chaos it could cause, this was his shot.
Because this match would shoot him to the top of their stats tracking. And not just in Universe #34.
A slight digression to bring you up to speed:
When I mentioned above that cupid is really a bureaucracy, that was not just hyperbole. Every cupid is required to log into a portal (“Archive Of Our lOve”) to record each love story that they assist with, and they are graded each year based upon their stats. How many love matches did they make this month or this year? Did their love match reverberate into further love matches across other universes? Anyway, enough about mythological stat tracking sites: back to the story.
So where were we? Panicking in an elevator control room?
A loud bang reverberated through the elevator shaft followed by a metallic twang as the emergency brakes clamped down hard on the cables, stranding the two men precariously two floors in the air.
Well, step one was complete. Jimmy glanced around the room, his eyes landing on the small CRT monitor with a grainy black and white live video feed from the corner of the elevator, showing the two men as they silently held each other close with panic (and a little bit of lust) written all over their faces.
They were off to a good start.
As he watched, the two men sat down and began discussing their predicament. Calmly. With all of their inappropriate thoughts well hidden from each other. Well, this wouldn't do at all. But how to speed up the process? Jimmy frowned, and then concentrated a bit, causing the temperature in the trapped elevator to plummet. (How, you ask? Magically, ok? Look, cupids have very good environmental control. It facilitates jumper lending, which is a KEY ASPECT of match making.)
Anyway, as I was saying. Jimmy turned down the temperature, and was immediately gratified to see Charlie start to shiver. What he had hoped for was a bit of a huddle for warmth but what he got in return was so much better. His cackles filled the cramped control room as he watched both of the men pull out their spare clothes to change out of their wet, coffee covered garb. And if Jimmy made Nick's shorts a tad tighter in his thighs, or Charlie's crop top a smidge shorter, who's to say.
(Me. I'm saying it. And he did. Clothing adjustments are right up there with environmental controls in the “standard bag of tricks” cupids employ).
And then just as the tension was getting a bit too high, he pushed the button activating the speaker. A large buzz like the drone of 100 bees filled the air before his voice carried across the static, checking in on them.
“The thunder twat who owns the shopping centre has fucked off on holiday and I need him to give me access to the building blueprints before I knock a hole through the wall to get you out. The pisswaffle hasn't replied to my messages yet. So it'll be a while longer, lads. Sorry".
There. That should buy him a few hours for the pheromones to work. Not that they'd be discussing fantasies yet, but perhaps a first kiss? Or even a phone number exchange?
Jimmy continued on with his watch as the men discussed their hobbies (apparently Charlie was a knitter ), their taste in music (Nick liked old 90’s music that Charlie begrudgingly accepted as ok), and their siblings.
But it wasn't moving fast enough. What he needed was more meddling. What he needed… was a Darcy.
Now, a Darcy is the generic term for any chaotic meddling friend, but in the case of Nick Nelson, his Darcy was actually named Darcy. Which meant that the Darcyonic powers were doubled.
And today Darcy did not disappoint. Jimmy’s little cupid heart was so proud as Darcy not only alluded to Nick's sexuality - on speaker phone mind you - but also let it drop that Nick found Charlie attractive, all without letting Nick get a word in edgewise.
Meddling at its finest.
If he did earn the Oreo Award for these two he would have to do something special for Darcy.
On to phase two, Jimmy thought to himself. It's time to turn things up a notch here, though. Heat things up, with more than the environmental controls, if you know what I mean.
Jimmy quickly worked in some mind suggestions (a power that he had learned from a few portraits that he met on his travels), somehow hinting to Nick that he should speak French . A bit of French should be enough to sweep Charlie off his feet, surely.
And it worked. Because of course it worked. He watched with literal hearts in his eyes (fun fact: cupid's pupils are heart shaped) as the two men leaned in to kiss, and then the screen went black.
And ok, maybe Jimmy used the “fade to black” trope a bit much when he was writing his reports, but the screen literally faded to black. He had lost his connection.
And the consequences of this could be dire.
Catastrophic.
Visions of world wide pandemics , chaos, wars, looting, or even - gasp - douchey 16 year old birthday parties swam through Jimmy's head.
No. This absolutely wouldn't do. And so Jimmy got to work. Thinking quickly, he grabbed his coworker’s floor polisher, and banged it against the wall. He needed to know what was going on. If they two men created a love match on their own without his interference there was a chance that it wouldn't “count”, and even worse, if the elevator went crashing down, pulverizing the two trapped inhabitants, it would ruin it not just for these two but for every Nick and Charlie that existed in every universe.
The speaker, but not the camera, came to life.
1 out of 2 ain't bad, he supposed, as Nick's terse voice came crackling through.
“Wot. Do. You. Need?”
Scrambling, Jimmy spouted off some platitudes about not being sued, and trying to help, but really he desperately wanted to say “I just need you two to fall in love!”.
He wrote down their - frankly ridiculous - order of food and board games and air pods, trying to ignore his newly appointed nickname (Bernard Sandra Kittenface Jones) before he got what was truly a stroke of evil genius, and mentally added one more item to the list.
Lube. (Did you think I was going to say Nair ? No? Oh, that’s probably just another way for me to get a reference in here that didn’t really fit. Carry on.)
That's right. Trap those fuckers in until they are literal fuckers, or at least literal wankers , and that Oreo is all but his. He got lost in a day dream for a minute, picturing himself on stage, accepting his trophy oreo award. His shout out to Darcy and the Portrait People for their assistance…. Shit. He had to get those fuckers out of that elevator if he wanted any of this to come true!
The speaker crackled back to life and he heard Charlie’s voice come through.
“...pretend you work here and have a tool box or something. And let me call you Shirley. Please baby I wanna scream Shirley's name… "
Jimmy’s heart dropped. He had flown too close to the sun. He had make them fall in love with HIM instead of with each other. Just as he was about to protest, he heard the peels of laughter coming from the the staticky speaker box.
That little fucker was uno-reversing him! But, if he was reading the cards correctly, they were actually in love. He watched as they exchanged phone numbers, starting a text chain that would continue on in perpetuity .
[One Year Later: June 23, 2024]
Jimmy waited nervously in the elevator. He had spent the past few weeks working closely with Nick to recreate this moment. Not that Nick knew how much work it had been to create it in the first place, but this time Nick was formalizing their love. Making it official. He was proposing. And Jimmy just knew, as though he could look into his crystal ball , or travel in time to the future , or even just hold on and wait for what may come , that this one would be the one that would last. That these two had a 100% chance at success.
The next morning, as he ate his bowl of toasty oats , he logged into Archive Of Our lOve to log his stats and report the culmination of his work to the big boss, smiling uncontrollably. Because although a year ago cupid#623 may have been going by just Jimmy, he had added a few more names as of late to his repertoire . Not just Jimmy, but Shirley. And Bernard. To a select few, Pumpkin, or Unny. And just that once, Bernard Sandra Kittenface Jones.
That so much had occurred in a single year seemed improbable, but such was work in the cupid army. And this love? This was one for the centuries, sure to snag him the bonus and coveted “golden bow double stuffed oreo” award. He smiled as he donned his denim coveralls, readying himself for yet another hard day of sparking love. I’m so glad you came into my life.
He also knew that certain people are prolific writers who decide to continue writing things even though they clearly should know they have a surprise fic waiting to be published on their anniversary, with all the references to their works from the past year, so something-something-dentist . Happy now?
