#( $$. plotting call ! )

[mafuyuakgae]

even if I came to love humanity in the end, there’s no proof I was ever here, right?

[yfere]

ok, the OTHER thing is that Tamsyn Muir's writing style is -- it's exactly everything I've ever wanted or loved. By turns insanely technical, rich, evocative, and also *deeply* irreverent. You have high level vocabulary and an obvious love for language and worldbuilding pressed right up against the memes and sex jokes. There's nothing better. and it's even better that it very much isn't one-note, that she has a strong understanding of character voice, which is *so* important in this story where souls are all possessing each other's bodies. I fell in love with Gideon and Harrow, but I was just as struck and pleased with Nona, so happy seeing the language pare down and simplify, as the tone of the story morphed perfectly to match Nona's own way of perceiving the world around her. what a writer

[callmeizukunotdeku]

one of my favorite brands of Jason and Tim angst is when Jason realizes that Bruce had been treating Tim like his replacement, not as Robin, but as Jason

Robin's a mantel, a mask that gets passed down from one brother to the next

Jason is a person. full stop.

just,,, something about making Jason's thinking shift from "Bruce replaced me by getting another son" to "Bruce found a kid that looks like me and he acts like the kid is me"

and Jason trying to bring this up with Tim, who knows better and expects worse just replying "at least, now that you're back, he's stopped calling me by your name"

and Jason is like "no, no, you should be asking so much more from him; this is Batman for god's sake"

"yeah" Tim agrees "I asked him to keep me around even though he doesn't need me any more. he seemed to be fine with the idea"

"need you? tim that's a fully grown adult he doesn't need you to do anything for him"

and Tim just gives him a you haven't seen the half of it look and Jason remembers that technically he's right

tim didn't need to do anything, he needed to be someone. and now that Jason is back, he doesn't need to be anyone anymore

but how much of himself did he lose trying to become someone else?

[al4thea]

"Why do you put up with me? Because you're fire... And I've been cold my whole life." - A.R Asher

You don't need to change for the right person, you're enough.

[kermdoeswriting]

Bruce Wayne's a Foster Parent. Also he avoids death a lot so a dead person can usually tell if a humans meant to have died but didn't.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Bruce you know I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't have to but-"

Bruce just sighed from his side of the phone, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Nobody ever really expects to get a phone call nearing 3 am but exceptions had to be made when you were a legal foster parent and also a part-time secret super hero. If it wasn't one thing calling for him it was the other.

On the other side of the phone, Bruce heard the caseworker, Roni, chuckle.

"It's just for 3 nights and half of the day after, but I need you to be prepared for something before I can pass them off to you."

Bruce sat upright now on his bed, attentively listening to her words. Usually the kids didn't really come with any pre-warnings from the Caseworker themselves, letting anything about each Foster kid be said inside of their personal files that got sent along with them.

But when she gave out this information it was usually important. The last time Bruce had gotten a warning like this it was for Jason which was ages ago it feels at this point.

"What is it?"

"The kids are-" Her voice trailed off, like as if she was still searching for the right words to say. "They've been through what I can honestly only describe as the equivalent to a meta-kid trafficking lab"

Bruce shifted as he heard the driving continue on the other side of the phone.

"They're very guarded because of what they went through and they might display.. unusual behavior. More unusual then a meta-kids behavior after such a situation would be, but don't let it fool you! The kids are really sweet beyond being afraid."

Bruce frowns at the descriptions before replying to her, mentally trying to prepare himself for the idea of these kids and what they might have went through.

"I'll make a note of it then. Thank you, Roni"

"No, thank you, Bruce. I really appreciate this last minute placement. We'll be by really soon"

He was left with a click as he removed himself off his bed and threw the covers to the side of him. Alfred would want to know that they would have 2 new guests in the manor, at the very least to greet them and have rooms prepared even if they didn't need to have them prepared further then what they already were.

It was less then 5 minutes later that Bruce found himself, with Alfred, greeting the temporary fosters at the front door. Roni looked tiredly at them as she pushed the kids front and center.

Bruce could relate heavily.

"Hello Danny, Ellie. It's nice to meet you both, I'm Bruce Wayne."

Danny just stared at the mans outstretched hand for a second before he turned to look up at him, a pinched look on his face. Ellie matched his expression, although being a bit more subtle about it as she looked over Bruce as a whole.

Eerily, Bruce felt like his very soul was being judge the longer the kids stared at him. He also felt a sense of familiarity with these two kids the longer this continued.

They seemed detached rather than afraid like their caseworker had explained earlier, more so viewing the world as if they were outside of it rather then in it in any way.

Danny was quick to glare at him after another moment, "You're a fruit-loop, aren't you?"

Ellie broke from her own scanning almost immediately when she heard Danny's comment, cackling beside him before shoving him off with her arm. The action made Bruce smile as he took his arm back and placed it by his side.

Alfred also looked amused between the pair of siblings before turning attention to the task at hand again. Bruce just smiled at his pseudo-fathers usual fondness over children, knowing he was being reminded of his own grandchildren.

"This is Alfred. He's going to be the one to show you over to your rooms for the next few nights." Alfred greeted the kids in the same polite way he usually greeted all guests before he leaned down and extended his hands towards their belongings. He didn't grab their belongings just remained leaning over them before questioning the kids if they would like help to take their stuff to their rooms.

Bruce only really saw it faintly and if it were any other moment he might have ignored it as a sleepless hallucination, but for some reason he noticed the change immediately. The twins eyes go from a darker blue to a flashing bright green.

As if alarmed by the sudden movement towards their belongings.

Danny was quick to catch his own staring as well, eyes flashing back to blue for only a second before reverting back to green. Almost as if to give off some kind of warning.

Ellie noticed his staring immediately and shoved Danny again, this time more forceful for his attention before turning to whisper something to him when she had him back.

Bruce felt his skin crawl before turning away to face their caseworker, not really understanding anything they were saying beyond hearing a few words and feeling their eyes look between each other and his back.

Death Touched was an especially new description, and one that stuck in his head the second he heard it.

Bruce waited until the kids were guided away by Alfred before talking to their caseworker officially and waking her up from her half delirious tired drop-off.

"Hey Roni? Is there any chance we can extend the Fenton kids stay?"

There was something going on here with these kids and he was going to get to the bottom of it. One way or another.

[fumifooms]

Omg guys he just genuinely likes bugs and mollusks and critters 😭💘💔 Forced to noble when he just wanna crouch and watch things skitter in the dirt…

[strawnger]

steddie au where eddie thinks they're just hooking up because steve never treats him like all his previous girlfriends, but steve thinks they're dating and the relationship is only different because it's Gay. he's just trying to follow eddie's lead without making a fool of himself (he keeps buying gifts and flowers then shoving them into the back of his closet because he doesn't want eddie to think he's "treating him like a girl")

[premamelody]

pmd beam go🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

[coffeenonsense]

the more I think about lou lou the more I wanna punch a wall bc snow did not have to fucking do that. He really didn't. There are probably about 90 different ways snow could have solved the propaganda issue of "oops a tribute died early" that are both less fucked up and likely easier to actually pull off, tbh, but he chose the one that would both emotionally scar a 16 year old boy for life AND get another 13 year old child killed, simply bc he's a bastard and he has the power to so he did. "the cruelty is the point." ffr

[sunderwight]

I absolutely get where people are coming from with Dom Mobei Jun in fics and it's often extremely good, but there is just so so much potential with Dom Shang Qinghua and Sub Mobei Jun.

I just really think they would be into the switch in their public-facing relationship dynamics for bedroom activities. The games they could play! Clever "lowly" servant Shang Qinghua pretending he's blackmailing or tricking Mobei Jun into servicing him for revenge, gloating about how he's got his king just where he wants him, getting to really cut loose on the degradation dirty talk (venting for all those years of holding back any kind of criticism out of fear for his life) while Mobei Jun gets some traditional demon courtship fixes out of the process, and also enjoys the opportunity to just completely turn off his brain and his vigilance around someone who he 100% trusts not to abuse the privilege.

Heck, their relationship didn't actually gain ground on physical intimacy until Shang Qinghua started finally cracking and losing his temper and demanding Mobei Jun respect him (and... call him 'daddy', of course...), and when Mobei Jun finally gets Shang Qinghua to tell him how to court him he's like "finally" and makes him the world's worst noodles about it. He's glad that Shang Qinghua is telling him what to do in order to please him! He wants that.

In conclusion, Mobei Jun would absolutely enjoy being bossed around and I think Shang Qinghua would equally enjoy ordering him to do various bedroom activities, in the most unrefined terms available, and being immediately served & obeyed.

[cloudyysworld]

It's so funny that in the show full with magical beings and gods and demons but the fandom is so obsessed with a human calling himself "Hob". Like hell yeah he is just a guy, a totally normal dude, just a college professior but if anything trying to harm him fucking Dream of The Endless will appear in your house and send you into the realm of darkness.

[laney-rockin]

It's canon that Spock likes to fuck with people and pretend he doesn't know human sayings just so he can make people explain it to him.

And then Kirk just knows when Spock is serious or is just being difficult and obtuse on purpose. They're married your honour.

[hazelnootnut]

ACT 2 "You're... me?" "That's right, stardust!"

You know I've been drawing Loop as their Siffrin form so much that it's got me thinking. I've read and seen so many fics and artworks of Loop eventually getting back to looking like their old self, but I don't think I've seen any so far of Loop already being a mirror copy of Siffrin. So uh, yoink?

ISAT AU where the game plays out the same way (plot-wise at least) but Loop looks like Siffrin the whole time and while Siffrin is extremely perplexed that there's another him, he's still gotta accept their help because how else are they supposed to escape the loops? Good ol' Loop is here to help, helpful friendly Loop!

Siffrin is going through it still but Differently.

[thebiscuitlabryinth]

[prev]

Life rolls on, not quite easily but peaceful in all its hardships. As the months unfold, Healer falls into a sense of general contentedness with both Plain Yogurt and the village at large, enough to assume that this routine will continue for the foreseeable future.

It ends suddenly, in the middle of the night.

One of Healer's most inconvenient traits is his tendency to sleep rather deeply, so to be awoken in the middle of the night is already jarring enough for him. Worse than that is the thing that had woken him: an unholy, piercing screech that twists and reverbarates around the Raisin Cliffs and shudders the very earth beneath him. The villagers are clamouring outside the tent, and though he can't make out what they are saying, the sound is pitchy with panic and alarm.

Concern spikes cold in Healer's chest, and still slightly disoriented from waking up, he fumbles for his staff and immediately tries to rush outside. In his haste, he doesn't properly anchor his staff as he begins to move, tripping over his own feet and tipping forward. He doesn't even think to brace for impact before he finds a sudden hand catching his arm, startling him a little.

"Woah, woah, careful, don't crack yourself!" Plain Yogurt's voice meets him as he helps Healer right himself. Wrapped up in his alarm, he hadn't heard him moving around before. Plain Yogurt leads Healer's free hand to his upper arm and he takes the silent offer, latching onto him for support. "Here, let's go see what all the commotion is about, hm?"

Plain Yogurt sounds weirdly nonchalant about everything, but Healer just appreciates that he seems to have a level head in the midst of all this. He nods, readjusting his grip on his staff, making sure it is properly anchored this time. "Yes, quickly."

Outside, the sound is deafening, shaking the very air. It's even worse to poor Healer's ears, attuned as they are to pick up the nuances of sound. The chill of the night wind seizes their robes immediately, tugging them left and right, and Healer shivers. To his side, Plain Yogurt huffs out an incredulous laugh, almost covered by the din.

Healer turns to ask him what prompted that, but is distracted by the voices of the other villagers, still alarmed but less panicked. "No, no, that definitely wasn't there yesterday evening. We would have noticed something that big!"

"But where did it come from?"

"I don't know! I've never seen anything like that before, you know that!"

His concern only growing, Healer finally turns to Plain Yogurt, bumping shoulders to make sure he has his attention. "What are they talking about? What's there?"

"A crimson moon." Plain Yogurt says simply.

Healer pauses, shaking his head slightly as if he heard him wrong, through the slow waning of that horrible screeching. "A crimson moon? That is a rather odd occurence, isn't it?"

"Mhm. And," an audible grin slips into Plain Yogurt's voice, alongside something Healer could almost mistake as eagerness, "a castle in the sky."

"In the sky?" Healer repeats in disbelief, turning his face skyward even though that does nothing to prove this castle's existence to him. "What is it doing above our village?"

"Who knows?" Plain Yogurt sighs, with a shrug Healer feels through his hold on his arm. "It's impressive, though. A grand castle, with turrets topped with wafflecone peaks. Its shadow will swallow this tiny village whole when daylight comes."

A new sound suddenly floods the air, coming down in a wave of buzzing as a stray spark of magic energy snags on the dough of Healer's cheek. Flinching slightly, Healer frowns in confusion as shouts break out of the villagers, kicking Healer's concern back up to the surface with a healthy dose of fear.

"WHAT ARE THOSE?!"

"They- they look like, uh, robots?"

"They're heading towards the village!"

"Definitely robots, made of wafflecone too." Plain Yogurt supplements before Healer has to ask, still impressively calm, if not vaguely excited. "They're a pretty piece of tech, but I think we should probably go back inside. They look like they're gearing up for an attack."

Healer straightens up, his grip on his staff tightening as his heart lurches worriedly. "An attack? But why–"

"EVERYONE, HIDE!" Black Raisin's voice rises stubbornly over the muddled noise. "I'll try and hold them off!"

Healer trusts Black Raisin's abilities with his whole heart, but dread still pools inside him as he lets go of Plain Yogurt, turning in the direction he heard her voice. "Black Raisin, wait, let me-!"

A hand catches his arm before he can take more than a few steps as Plain Yogurt cuts in. "You heard her, my dear. Like I said, we need to hide."

Healer turns his head back towards Plain Yogurt with a stern frown. "But it's dangerous for her to go completely alone–"

Plain Yogurt's voice takes on a firmer, almost demanding edge. "She'll be fine, and if she isn't, she'll need you safe and in one piece to be able to heal her. Come on, in."

Plain Yogurt tugs on Healer's arm, but Healer hesitates, resisting against the pull for a moment. The buzz only gets louder, the wind bringing down an acrid, sweet smell as he hears the other villagers rushing around them, hurrying into the tents.

There's another, more insistent tug on his arm, and this time, Healer sighs and follows it. He understands what Plain Yogurt means, and Black Raisin would likely say the same anyway. For now, he will trust her to stay safe, at least enough for him to be able to patch her up afterwards.

So life rolls on, now far more stressful. The Wafflebots continue to attack, and they only seem to multiply as the weeks wear on. Healer is needed near constantly when they attack, and in the brief periods of respite, he is busy with making sure everyone's health is maintained under these continually deteriorating conditions.

Plain Yogurt was often by his side before, but now Healer insists he stay by him at almost all times. Black Raisin hasn't asked for his dispatch in a while, and they have both been acting civil enough in front of him, but Healer knows better. He might not see, but he can still feel the aggravated tension that builds between those two whenever they are around each other, and in a time of crisis, he doesn't want to risk anyone getting distracted.

Besides, Plain Yogurt helps Healer with the patients. He does basic first aid for the less urgent injuries as they wait for Healer to work his magic, and he helps to regulate Healer's condition too, getting him food and drink even when he doesn't want it.

Healer can hear him humming somewhere behind him now, as Healer gently feels around a patient's cracks. His fingers find the stickiness of jam, and he carefully traces the edge of the crack to judge the severity.

The patient, Choco Raisin, hisses quietly in pain, and Healer aches with sympathy. "Just a moment longer," he assures softly, "I just wanted to get a better idea of your injury."

He lays a light hand over the area, and channels his magic into the wound. It spills, warm and soothing, into Choco Raisin's dough, clearing the jam on the surface as it passes. Then, Healer weaves it tenderly through her cracks, deftly sealing them closed.

"There." He smiles, pulling away from her. "How does it feel?"

Choco Raisin takes a moment, presumably testing her body based on the sound of shifting clothes, before replying, "As good as new, like always! Thanks, Healer."

"I'm happy to help. Remember, though, take it easy for the rest of the day. Miracle healing or not, your body needs rest to recover from the stress of the injury." Healer reminds her with a hint of warning to his tone, knowing that Choco Raisin never likes sitting still for long. Sure enough, she groans an agreement, and Healer chuckles as he reaches for where he set his staff down.

His hand wraps securely around it, and a gasp escapes him as a familiarly foreign energy, cool like the feeling of early morning light, dances frantically down his arm. It curls around his heart, before settling in the dip of the hollow of his throat, all in the span of a second or less.

There is a moment of silence, and Healer realises that Plain Yogurt has stopped humming. He isn't sure when that happened.

"Are you alright, Healer?" Choco Raisin asks, concerned. "You're not hurt too, are you?"

Healer takes in a deep breath as the new energy fades into the depths of his dough, grounding himself. He can feel his staff reacting to something, pulsing as if it is trying to reach out and catch more tendrils of whatever it just found.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine." Healer says, managing a little smile as he pulls himself up to his feet, using his staff as leverage. He hears Choco Raisin follow his lead. "It's been a long day. I might be more tired than I thought."

"If you say so. Take care of yourself too, okay?" Choco Raisin's voice lifts with lingering worry, and Healer, touched by the care as always, nods with a hum.

He hears Choco Raisin say goodbye to Plain Yogurt over his shoulder and leave the tent, the closing flap masking the sound of her retreating footsteps. Healer sighs, turning to face where he last heard Plain Yogurt, probably sat by one of the tent walls. "That was the last patient for now, right?"

"Looks like it." Plain Yogurt replies, curt and dismissive, sounding like he always does when he doesn't care about a conversation. "Hey, what happened just now? When you grabbed your staff?"

Abruptly, there is an unyielding urgency in his voice, contrasting sharply with his previous curtness. Healer assumes, much like Choco Raisin, it stems from concern, and decides it probably wouldn't hurt to tell his closest friend the truth.

"Ah, I'm not too sure myself." He admits lightheartedly, tapping towards Plain Yogurt's voice and settling down somewhere near him, setting his staff down over his lap. He runs his hand along its stalk gently, as if petting it. The pulsing seems to have stopped, for now. "I felt a strange foreign energy coming from my staff. It seems to be resonating with something, though I don't know what that could possibly be. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was a surprise."

"Really?" Plain Yogurt's voice lifts like a song, as if intruiged, before dipping to tease, "That must mean you're something really special, huh?"

For some reason, those words embarrass Healer a little. He laughs, shaking his head. "No, not at all. I'm sure anyone with a strong affinity for magic would be able to resonate with whatever source is catching my staff's attention."

Plain Yogurt lets out a long, drawn hum, and then there is a shuffle of sudden movement. Healer feels their knees bump together, hears the scuffle of what must be Plain Yogurt's hands landing on either side of him, narrowly missing the length of his staff.

"You know," Plain Yogurt drawls, syllables curled with a smile, "I have a feeling something big is going to happen soon. Very soon."

Much like his random strange questions, this comment seemingly comes out of nowhere. Healer smiles back, playing along. "A good something or a bad something?"

"A good something. A very, very good something." Plain Yogurt pauses, then amends cheerfully, "For us, at least."

"Well, that's a relief." Healer turns his head towards the entrance of the tent, voice growing gentle. "After the hardship of the last few weeks, the village deserves something good happening for them."

Plain Yogurt clicks his tongue, a sharpened sound. He leans closer, close enough for his breath to ghost Healer's dough. That isn't really surprising, because he has quite the habit of leaning into Healer's space like this, but the angle of it is. His breath hits Healer's neck and collar rather than his cheeks, which suggests that his head is tilted down to look at something below Healer's chin rather than his face. Healer has no idea what he could be looking at, especially since he doubts his robes are a particularly interesting sight.

"No, no, not them." Plain Yogurt corrects, and there's that strange lilting tone of his again, the one Healer has never really managed to puzzle out. "Us. Just us."

Healer hesitates, confused by the apparent weight behind this distinction. "What do you mean?"

Plain Yogurt leans back, his breath receding as he shifts slightly, their knees no longer pressed together. "I don't know." He says, his grin loud. "It's just a feeling."

Once again, Healer gets the impression that Plain Yogurt knows much more than he is letting on. He genuinely considers pressing Plain Yogurt for information this time, but ultimately decides against it. Plain Yogurt said that whatever it is would happen soon, right? Healer will find out then. Besides, he also said it was meant to be a good thing, so maybe it would be nice to have a pleasant surprise waiting for him.

That night, PureVanilla Healer Cookie dreams that he is floating in a cold embrace.

"Pure Vanilla Cookie," a voice calls to him from nowhere and everywhere, a voice so similar to his own, "Pure Vanilla Cookie!"

That isn't Healer's name, but for some reason, he feels the urge to answer anyway. "Who's there?"

"There you are!" The voice coos, rippling through the nothingness. "You've kept me waiting for far too long, you know. Are you finally ready to face the Truth?"

"What?" Healer mutters, though alongside his confusion wells a traitorous dread, as if his body understands the implication of what is being said better than his mind.

"Open your eyes," the voice coaxes, "and confront the Truth you are so determined to hide from."

Healer realises, suddenly and anxiously, that the reassuring pressure of his bandages have vanished, leaving his bare face exposed. Fear bursts painful through his body, and his hands fly up to cover his closed eyes, pressing his palms into his eyelids in a mimicry of his bandages.

"No, you must confront the Truth." The voice insists, its tone relaxed and otherworldly but no less stubborn. "Open your eyes, Pure Vanilla Cookie."

"I- I can't!" Healer argues weakly, even though that really isn't his name, burying his face into his hands in an act of unspoken defiance. Nervousness prickles along his dough, making him queasy. "I'm sorry, I don't know why but I can't. It will be too much for me."

"Just once." The voice promises softly. "Just one proper look at its whole, ugly entirety and then you will never have to look at the Truth again."

Healer is quiet for a moment. The words affect him in two contrasting ways, both a comfort and a disturbance. The press of his hands against his eyes lifts slightly, less harsh in its rejection of the outside.

"Open your eyes, Pure Vanilla Cookie." The voice repeats and this time, past his fear and dread and uncertainty, Healer feels compelled to listen.

His hands slip from his face, and he cautiously squints his eyes open.

The world is a dark blur for a moment, not any different than the back of his own eyelids, before his eyes finally focus to the best of their ability. It is enough for Healer to realise that he is floating in a black void, with deep blue eyes surrounding him on all sides. They seem to glitter and glow like stardust as they stare at him, pinning him in place like a butterfly to a board.

Healer can only stare back, transfixed, as he sinks into velvety darkness.

When Healer wakes up, it is a slow, sluggish affair. Somewhere outside, he can hear the cawing of the raisin crows announce the daybreak, and it takes him just a moment too long of being conscious to realise the feeling of a hand in his hair.

Still weighted with dregs of sleep, he appreciates the feeling of fingers threading through his hair and the scratch of something against his scalp for a minute or two, before he finally has the presence of mind to wonder who the hand belongs to.

"Plain Yogurt?" He asks with a little yawn, because that's the only logical explanation. "What are you doing?"

The hand stills and pulls away. With his newfound space, Healer pushes himself up into a sitting position, rubbing at his own face in the hopes that will wake him up faster.

"Nothing. You were just tossing and turning so I wanted to help you relax. You need all the rest you can get, since you're so busy all the time." Plain Yogurt explains easily, voice slightly hushed in the early morning. His tone becomes sweeter, softened with honey. "Did you have a nightmare?"

Somehow, it sounds like it is worded as a trick question. Healer doesn't know what the trick could possibly be though, and answers honestly, "I don't know. I don't remember dreaming of anything."

"Mm." The sound is flat, but Plain Yogurt's voice is lighthearted, close to teasing as he says, "That's okay. I'm sure you'll remember one of these days."

"What about you, then? Did you dream of anything?" Healer asks to carry on the conversation, though he reaches for his staff as he does. He needs to get up for the day; the Wafflebots attacks could happen at any moment, and there will inevitably be Cookies in need of his help.

When his fingers wrap around the stalk of his staff, there is no familiarly foreign shot of energy. For a single, bizarre moment, he thinks he almost misses it.

"Nothing much." Plain Yogurt replies languidly, his voice rising and spreading through the air as he gets to his feet. "Just a little doll in the palm of my hand."

[next]

[starsofang]

everybody had forgotten your birthday. well — everybody except for one person. that person remained a mystery, leaving you a wrapped gift on top of your desk.

the wrapping was pretty, decked in your favorite color with a neat bow slapped on top. it was a stereotypical gift, but it was the only one you’d received for your birthday, and to you, the execution was as beautiful as ever.

one thing was missing, and it was a name. on the tag, rather than saying who it was from, it was a scribbled out heart replaced with a simple smiley face. you didn’t have a clue who the gift could be from, but whoever delivered it was clearly on the fence about revealing their identity.

upon unwrapping the box, you discovered a jewelry box. black, velvet, simple. opening it was an entirely different story.

a lovely bracelet, shiny and new, riddled with little charms of your favorite things. a neat touch of your birthstone was in the mix, as well as a small initial for your name. it was gorgeous, the most perfect gift you could ever ask for, and you desperately wanted to thank the person who retrieved it for you.

you had your suspicions. there was johnny, who could be quite the brat but also a thoughtful friend. or gaz, who was always considerate of your interests and gave you open ears no matter the time of day. ghost didn’t seem the sentimental type, nor did price.

it wasn’t until the next morning, as you walked into the rec room to make yourself a cup of tea, did you know. you adorned the bracelet with pride, the little charms jingling as you poured hot water into your mug.

price stepped in, greeting you with his signature kind smile. you mirrored him, offering a good morning. he joined you in making a tea for himself, the air filled with a comfortable silence. he seemed hyper focused on dipping his tea bag rather than look at you, and if you squinted, you could sense a brief awkwardness looming out of him.

“i see you liked your gift,” he murmured quietly, sparing a quick glance to the bracelet before returning to his tea.

you startled in surprise, eyes wide as you peered up at him while he continued to avoid looking back. “that was you?” you asked.

he hummed in response, finally turning to you to lean his hip on the counter. he lifted his mug, taking a long sip of his fresh tea. “wouldn’t miss your birthday for the world, bug. i was just worried about gettin’ you the right thing.”

“i didn’t know you remembered,” you confessed shyly. you lifted your arm to inspect the bracelet once more, the little initial dangling prettily. “it’s beautiful. i love it. thank you, john.”

price cleared his throat, looking almost flustered. he darted his eyes to your bracelet before looking away again, hiding in his mug. “it’s nothin’, bug.”

“and the crossed out heart on the gift tag was also nothing, i assume?” you grinned knowingly. “the smiley face was a nice touch, though the heart would’ve been cute to keep, too.”

price grumbled into his mug, side eyeing you. “thought the heart might be too much. don’t want you gettin’ the wrong idea.”

“what idea would that be, sir?” you asked teasingly, taking an innocent sip of your tea.

price attempted to hide his smile, but you could see the small quirks on the corners of his mouth, begging to turn up. “minx,” he muttered in feigned annoyance, giving an affectionate pinch to your cheek before stalking off to the exit of the room.

you smiled bashfully, holding the bracelet dear to your chest as you watched him go, the telltale of a smile on his lips leaving with him.

maybe if you prodded him some more, his initial would join yours on the bracelet one day.

[sukibenders]

When other Yellowjackets fans, majority who are poc themselves, talk about how weird and frustrating it is that the writers introduced a random yte character and gave them a storyline when there were two (technically three but they killed off Lottie even when there was an opportunity for more) woc, who have been around since s1, that could've fit the mold instead (like Mari) and have actual personalities outside of building up/being the lapdog for another character. Or how often times many of the, limited, poc characters are often either treated poorly and killed off, or pushed to the side (Simone, reduced to the disposable black girlfriend trope and is nearly killed by her partner because she's in the way of a ship; Travis, since s1, had his trauma dismissed or ignored and was overly hated but no one talks about how he was SA'd by the girls he's now stuck with on top of having to eat his brother and not be able to grieve over it). How Taissa's whole storyline is just revolving around Van even with all the potential, especially given she's fighting to be free from her own mind, how Lottie's mental illness is treated so poorly as if it's not the butt of a joke then it's met with heavy criticism (and the only time she is met with sympathy for it, it's through the lens of a yte character embodying her and having an emotional conversation with her father). How you can have all of these reasons (and more) for being annoyed by Melissa's character or the direction of the show, and be met with #those fans downplaying these concerns, or just being overly antagonistic just because they find yte character #243 entertaining so obviously these conversations don't have merit. But this fandom has always had an...."interesting" way in which it discussed the poc characters on the show, so I'm not surprised.