#I gotta admit I’m not sure what think about this book so far

[katfreaks-hidyhole]

[sashaforthewin]

Multi-chapter fic on Ao3

Steve had been enjoying a nice relaxing lounge by the pool despite it being night. He had his hearing aid off and his fruity drink and a romance novel Robin had let him borrow. He was determined to have a good time despite the circumstances. 

Someone tapped his foot, scaring the crap out of Steve and making him drop his book and nearly knock over his drink. 

It was a fellow cruise passenger and he was saying something. Steve turned his hearing aid back on.

“Sorry, what?”

“I asked why you were out here instead of at the concert,” repeated the man with a smile.

“Oh, um. I’m not actually a fan of metal music. It gives me headaches if I listen to more than one or two songs in a row,” Steve admitted sheepishly.

This stranger was still clearly a metal head, but he looked significantly less scary than most of the ones he had seen so far that day. Everyone Steve met had been nice, but Steve hadn’t felt comfortable telling anyone he wasn’t a fan until now. Maybe because it was just the two of them out here and he was smiling so cutely. 

“Not a metal fan? Well damn, not to critique your life choices, but I think maybe going on a metal cruise wasn’t an ideal choice for you? I’m Eddie, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Steve.”

There were plenty of deck lounges around, all empty, but Eddie sat down on Steve’s right next to his legs. 

“Steve. So Steve, why are you on a metal cruise when you don’t like metal? These tickets were not exactly cheap and there’s no way you missed the theme, it was pretty clearly advertised,” Eddie asked teasingly.

Steve looked Eddie over, noting that he was actually pretty cute. Pretty eyes, nice full lips, dimples, and he was that type of lanky Steve was drawn to. He had good skin and his hair had some volume and texture to it, Steve could work with that. Bit of a fixer-upper, but a better starting point than most of the men that had flirted with him since his last failed relationship. He also had the vibe, so Steve decided this guy would be fine to open up to. 

“Well, Eddie, I bought this ticket for my dear friend Dustin for his birthday, but then the little shit went and outed me to my parents. Accidentally, of course, and he feels like shit about it. But still, that got me kicked out of my home so maybe I’m being petty but I decided he shouldn’t get to go on this cruise after all. I forgive him, it really was an accident, but still, gotta teach him a lesson.” Steve shrugged. “And I would’ve gotten the ticket refunded but the money would’ve gone back to my parents and they clearly don’t deserve to get anything back from me. So, instead of trying to figure out how to sell a ticket to a very niche interest cruise, I figured I deserved to just come and treat myself for four days before I have to go back to living in my ex-girlfriend’s basement. It’s actually pretty nice to have the ship to myself while all you guys are in there shaking your heads to loud music.” Steve gestured to the pool and the drink.

“Ex- girl friend’s basement?” Eddie asked.

“Shut up, I’m bi.” Steve smacked Eddie on the arm with his book. 

Eddie grabbed the book and looked at it as he replied, “Hey, just checking to make sure I’m not barking up the wrong tree.”

“Oh? Is that what you’re doing, barking up my tree?” Steve said, playfully.

“If you’ll let me,” Eddie flirted back.

“So how come you’re not in the show right now?” Steve asked, gently stealing his book back from Eddie’s grasp.

“Oh, I’m touring with those guys right now, I have heard them play the same set like fifteen times already. I’d much rather be out here getting to chat with you. You know you’re beautiful, right? How come you don’t live with your boyfriend? Or girlfriend?” Eddie asked, quite obvious in his fishing for information.

“I’m single and yes, I do know I’m beautiful, but I still like hearing it. Are you like a roadie or something?”

“Actually,” Eddie said, “I’m the lead guitarist in the headlining band. We play tomorrow night. Can I buy you another drink? Maybe dinner?”

“The, uh, the bill goes to our cabins,” Steve answered, too shocked that an apparently famous musician was asking him out to respond appropriately.

“Baby, I’ll put your entire tab on my cabin if you’ll let me. You are the most beautiful, and dare I say cleanest man on this entire boat. Metal heads are great, but they aren’t really my type.”

Steve takes a sip of his cold drink just to make sure he’s not fallen asleep and dreaming. The ocean is calm and the moon is full and he is most definitely awake.

“And what is your type?” Steve asked. 

“Handsome men with soft hands who will let me pamper them,” Eddie said, picking up Steve’s hand and feeling his lack of calluses. He placed a kiss onto each finger tip. “These hands aren’t meant for labor, let me spoil you rotten.”

Well, Steve reasoned, even if this ended up being just a weekend fling, it was going to be worth the price of admission.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

hey remember that caramel-carmel Fake Script i was writing? yeah it's technically not done but i'm tired of tinkering with it so here it is! we'll just say it's a uhhhh uncovered partial script or somethin

this is not in any way official! it's a 100% unaffiliated fanwork & i am Just Fucking Around for Funsies

~

BARNABY: oh, I love carmul!

FRANK: [long, disgusted pause] …what? 

BARNABY: Carmul! You know, those tasty little treats you’re holdin’!

FRANK: You mean caramel?

BARNABY: That’s what I said.

FRANK: [scoffs] No, you didn’t. You said carmul.

BARNABY: We’re sayin’ the same thing here.

FRANK: We absolutely are not!

JULIE: [giggles] You really aren’t.

BARNABY: Carmul, caramel, tomato, tomahto! What does it matter!

FRANK: [flustered, stammering] It - it matters! Julie, you agree with me, don’t you?

JULIE: Well… I don’t know, Frank! I think both are fun!

FRANK: You’re both wrong, then! Wally, you agree with me, don’t you?

WALLY: [hesitant] …I say carmul.

FRANK: No! Not you too! How could you poison him like this, Barnaby?

BARNABY: Don’t look at me! I’m innocent, honest!

FRANK: Ha! So you admit that carmul is the wrong pronunciation!

BARNABY: [groans] ah, geez… throw a dog a bone!

FRANK: I’d be delighted to if you’d just-

[distant yelp as Eddie trips off-screen] 

FRANK: Eddie! Thank goodness, finally someone who can put an end to this debate!

EDDIE: [nervous laugh] Oh no, what did I stumble into this time? 

BARNABY: Hold on a tic, Frank. Hey Ed, take this. What do you call that tasty treat?

EDDIE: [with a tinge of fear] A… caramel?

FRANK: [triumphant] a-HA!

SALLY: [approaching] Did someone mention carmul?

FRANK: AGH!

BARNABY: [delighted] Perfect timing, Sally!

SALLY: What, for a delicious morsel? Hand it over, thank you!

FRANK: You’re all wrong, and I’ll prove it! We’re going to go around the neighborhood and - wait. [under his breath] One two three four - [returns to normal volume] we’re taking this to Poppy’s!

BARNABY: Then Home, then Howdy, yeah yeah - might as well ask the daisies, too.

JULIE: Oooh, and the butterflies! 

SALLY: While we’re at it, we should phone everyone in the book, just to get the widest audience input.

FRANK: [unamused] You all think you’re so funny. 

EDDIE: Well, you gotta admit it’s… it’s… 

[brief, tense pause. Eddie clears his throat]

EDDIE: It’s perfectly sensible!

[Frank makes an affronted noise]

FRANK: Poppy will see sense.

-

POPPY: I’d be delighted to have a cah-mehl, but I’m afraid it-

FRANK: [aghast, truly astonished] You’re joking. You have to be joking. CAH-MEHL? Does no one in this town have sense?! Besides Eddie, of course. And Julie - on a technicality.

EDDIE: [oddly pleased] Why thank you. 

POPPY: My goodness, did- did I say it wrong?

BARNABY: [gleeful] Not in the least, Pops!

SALLY: As far as I’m concerned, you added an extra layer of… pizazz to the word. In fact, I may adjust my own pronunciation accordingly!  

POPPY: [flustered] Oh, well, I didn’t - don’t change on my account -

SALLY: Take the compliment, Poppy. 

POPPY: [meekly] Thank you.

[Sally wanders from the group, practicing the slightly adjusted pronunciation]

WALLY: I’m not sure I understand. What’s wrong with carmul or… care… mul… carmel…

POPPY: Don’t strain yourself dear, you’ll get a migraine.

FRANK: What’s wrong is that it’s ENTIRELY incorrect! It! Is! Pronounced! Caramel!

JULIE: Aww, Frank, I’m sure Home and Howdy will agree with us! Team Caramel, WOOO!

BARNABY: [barely restrained disbelief] Boy, won’t they! 

POPPY: I’m not sure what the fuss is about… there isn’t much of a difference, is there?

[Frank makes a high pitched, frustrated noise and stomps off. He can be heard calling Home’s name in the background]

JULIE: Oop, there he goes!

POPPY:  Oh - oh dear. I didn’t mean to rile him up.

BARNABY: Don’t twist your beak about it - Frank’s just bein’ Frank. Now if you’ll excuse us, I wanna see how it goes with Home.

WALLY: [quietly, thoughtful] But Home doesn’t talk like us…

POPPY: If you’re sure… Do let me know how it goes. 

SALLY: [swaying back to the group] I’ll phone you post-haste! Or even better, I can come by for one of your delicious muffins and regale you with the whole escapade, in detail.

POPPY: [audibly pleased] That sounds - well that sounds like a wonderful idea! I have some fresh from this morning-

BARNABY: Sounds great! See you around, Poppy.

-

FRANK: Home, I have an important question to ask you. Is the correct pronunciation for this candy ‘carmul’, or ‘caramel’? One creak for caramel, two for the incorrect carmul.

BARNABY: Talk about a bias…

[Home stays silent. Sally yawns.]

FRANK: One creak for caramel, two-

[Home slowly shuts their curtains]

FRANK: Hmph! The nerve… well, I suppose a house that can’t speak shouldn’t have a say, anyway.

WALLY: Home can speak. He just does it differently.

BARNABY: And I’m pretty sure they just agreed with me, Walls, an’ Sally.

JULIE: They did not!

BARNABY: Looked like it to me!

SALLY: I have to agree with Julie. Home just declared itself a neutral party, and so the vote can’t be counted either way. On to Howardson!

JULIE: Yes! Howdy! Our last hope!

FRANK: He may have terrible taste in company, but he’s a sensible businessman. Poppy and Home have let me-

JULIE: Us!

FRANK: -us down, but surely Howdy will back us up. 

BARNABY: [faux-serious tone, knows something they don’t] Absolutely. Without a doubt.

-

[store bell chimes]

HOWDY: Howdy-do - [brief pause, a tinge of surprise] everyone! My my, what brings the entire neighborhood to my bountiful bodega? Finally decided to clean me out for good?

BARNABY: [snorts] With how fast you restock? I think I’d break my funnybone!

FRANK: We have important business.

HOWDY: [mildly curious] Do we? That’s news to me! But I’m letting you know now that I don’t deal in bugs, Frankly. It’d be hypocritical. 

FRANK: Believe me, I wish I were here to talk insects. Unfortunately, I need to settle a score. Mr. Dear, if you would?

EDDIE: If I would what?

SALLY: [stage-whisper] Barnabello gave you the, ah, parcel earlier?

EDDIE: The…? Oh! Oh, right - I have it right here, just… give me a second… which pocket…? There we go.

[sound of a small, hard candy placed on the countertop] 

HOWDY: A carmul all for me? You shouldn’t have! No, really, you shouldn’t have. I’m on the clock.

BARNABY: [loud bark of laughter] I knew I could count on you, pal! So what’s the tally, Frankie?

[Frank mutters something inaudible]

BARNABY: What was that? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of me bein’ right!

FRANK: [explosive] You’re all wrong! The correct pronunciation is caramel, CARAMEL! You’re all - you’re all just - heathens! Heathens, I say! I’m taking my company elsewhere! 

EDDIE: Mr. Frankly…

JULIE: [overlapping, following] Aw, c’mon Frank! 

[the door jingles. Julie and Frank’s hushed arguing in the doorway underlies the dialogue]

HOWDY: It sounds like I missed quite the context! Mind filling me in?

BARNABY: That was pretty much it; a real potato potahto argument.

HOWDY: If you say so, Barn. Speaking of potahtos-

[the background argument abruptly cuts off, the door jingles again as it's closed]

FRANK: [rapidly rejoining the group] Hold it! You don’t really say potahto, do you?

BARNABY: [under breath] Here we go again…

SALLY: [deeply amused] Where on Earth did you pick up such a butchered pronunciation? I must have missed the sign on my tour down from the heavens.

EDDIE: [baffled, underlying the dialogue] I’ve never heard anyone say it that way.

JULIE: Oh! Is it a joke? Like, Barnaby says potato-potahto, and then you jokingly say potahto to make us laugh? 

HOWDY: It’s not a joke. That’s how it’s said.

FRANK: [genuinely disturbed] No - no one says that. It’s potato.

HOWDY: Well I say potahto, thank you very much! And if you ever want one from my store again, you’d do well to accept that.

[Various grumbles of reluctant acceptance]

HOWDY: Good. Now, can I get any of you a refreshing drink after such a squall? You must be parched! 

WALLY: I wouldn’t mind a glass of mulk.

[Horrified silence. A pin drop would be deafening]

[Sudden uproarious and overlapping argument]

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Detour 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Thor

Summary: You find yourself stranded in a small village.

Part of the Backwoods AU

Note: So this is an idea I had for a while but I just know I wouldn’t get to do it full length for chapters but I hope it’s fun.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“Hmmm,” Vol tugs on his red beard, wiry white hairs springing up, “looks like when you veered, you snapped part of the axel.”

“What does that mean?” You tap your toe impatiently.

“Well, it means even with a new tire, you won't be driving off into the sunset,” he shrugs and crosses his arms, “fix like this could take a week. If it's fixable. And if I can mend it, it won't hold for long. Likely need a full replacement.”

“You're kidding me,” you scoff.

“Look, it's good business for me but I wish I was,” he slaps the white finish of the car, leaving a grease mark that has your fingers itching.

“So… what do I do?”

“Hmm?” He furrows his thick brows.

“I'm supposed to be in the city tomorrow. I have a tour booked of the Cathedral and I'm supposed to go to the museum–”

“Not too sure about that,” he sniffs.

“It's just a car. Scrap it then. I'll get a rental–”

“From?”

“Pardon?”

“A rental from where? Got them in the city but no rentals here.”

“What– well, surely someone around here would sell me something.”

“Don't think anyone has a spare car hanging about,” he chuckles.

“Are you mocking me?”

“Not at all,” he counters, “just saying.”

“So I'm stuck here?”

“Suppose…”

“You suppose?” You throw your hands up.

“There's accommodation around here. A B&B up near Thunder Lane.”

“How far is that?” You check the time on your watch, not that it matters much.

“On foot, a good forty or so. I can drive you up in about ten,” he offers.

“How much would that be?” You touch your shoulder, realising your purse is in the car.

“None,” he blinks, “I don't mind. I live on the other side.”

“Mm, that's very… kind,” you glance around, “I'll grab my things then. I'll take the night To reconfigure….”

You trail off. You’re certain he doesn't care. You look at your car, still mounted on the jack.

“What do you need, miss? Don't want you to get hurt.”

“Purse is in the front seat, my bags are in the trunk,” you explain.

He nods and turns. The large fleece lined flannel over his coveralls makes him seen even bigger. He pulls open the front door and reaches for your purse. He uses the mechanism on the door to pop the trunk before he comes back around.

He hands you your purse and you wipe the stain from the cream leather. He looks in the back, “you need all these?”

“Just that one,” you step closer and point, “oh and this one.”

“Right,” he hauls out the round valise and the vintage rolling suitcase. “You sure that's enough?”

He faces you with half a smirk.

“Thanks,” you ignore his joke, “frankly, I just want to be in one place. Alone.”

“Of course,” he shuts the trunk roughly and the car bounces, “I gotta lock up before we head out but I'll get the truck nice and warmed up and you can wait in there. How's that?” He looks down at your stilettos, “your feet must be killing you.”

“No,” you say defiantly.

“Ah, well, still, don't want you to stain your fancy clothes in here,” he insists, “come on then.”

🌄

As much as you already abhor this place, you must admit the B&B is adequate. Vol steers up through the gates and along the curved driveway that leads to a marble fountain trimmed with finely kept hedges. He stops before the broad stairs as you peer up at the grand double doors. It could be called a countryside palace.

The mechanic's weight shifts the cabin as he hops out and to your surprise, comes to open your door. You give him a look as you step down, your heels catching in the mosaic stonework. You clutch your purse tight and consider the full expanse of the landscaping.

“I'll get your bags,” he opens the backdoor of the cabin.

“Do they not have a bellhop?”

“Here?” He snorts as he brings out your bags, one in each hand.

“Right,” you accept. The village probably doesn't have the population to staff the immense hotel. “Thank you, sir. You've been very helpful.”

“I can bring them in.”

“Not necessary,” you assure him, “thank you again. I'll call tomorrow about the car.”

“Sure,” he accepts as you latch onto the bags.

The valice brings your arm down sharply as you struggle to yank the wheeled bag closer on the stonework. He made them look much lighter than they are.

“Good night, sir.”

You spin and march off, a janky, awkward gait in your heels as the bag bounces behind you. You get to the steps and look at the top. You ignore the idling truck as you take in the logistics of the ascent. It's only five steps. In these shoes, it may as well be triple.

You rest the valice on the rolling bag and huff. You shake out your arms and hike your purse high on your shoulder. You push down the long handle of the suitcase and instead grab the handle on top, hugging the valice to it as you lift it one step ahead of you.

You plant the wheels and pant, swaying in your heels. The second step is no easier. The third has you stopping a bit longer.

You turn and look at the tow truck and scowl. You wave him off with agitation. He revs and rumbles around the fountain, leaving you.

“Need some assistance?” A baritone thunders over you. You whip around to face the same burly blond as before.

“You!” You exclaim.

“Me,” he grins, “you're having a hard time.”

“No,” you insist.

You snatch the valice and hook it on your elbow. You grab the handle of the suitcase and grunt, dragging it up the steps with all your effort. It jars you dangerously on the top step and nearly has you tipping over.

“Hm, I was only going to offer my help.”

“Don't need it. Thanks,” you snip, “why don't you mind your business?”

“This Is my business,” he snickers, “well, my parents’ still have their names on the deed but it'll be mine soon enough.”

You bat your lashes and roll your eyes, “fine,” you shove your bag against his stomach, hard, “I need a suite. Now.”

He laughs even louder as he grabs onto your valise, “of course, your highness,” he backs up and reaches to open a door, “this way.”

[danganronpa96]

How does Latte Cookie feel about the participants so far?

I’m not sure if you mean everyone who’s currently alive or the entire cast, but I’ll do the latter because we gotta give our cookie queen some attention

Walter -> She saw him as a reliable leader at first, someone who would be able to lift everyone’s spirits up with his plan. Of course, when his true intentions came to light, she felt immensely disappointed and betrayed. Still, she would’ve liked to have learned more about his time as a teacher.

Hiroshi -> As a student, Latte was impressed with his academic intelligence. She wanted to encourage him to be more social, however, despite his inward nature. She still strongly believes that Nesos is at fault for pressuring him to commit murder.

Retsuko -> She found Retsuko very cute at first by her small appearance, but did get concerned by her surprisingly unhealthy habits. Latte wishes she could’ve talked to her more, perhaps inviting her to the cafe to chat more about their lives.

Kaidou -> (oh… oh dear) Latte would never admit to bias out loud, but Kaidou did have a special place in her heart very quickly. She always saw his imaginative mind as a healthy proof of his creativity (and sort of also assumed he wanted to be a hero like some of her other cookie students). She still blames herself from time to time about not being there for him when things got tough during the 2nd motive, and misses him a lot.

Ena -> Latte always saw Ena in a similar way to her other students, although as a more special case. It was clear Ena still had a lot to learn, and yet could surprise her in terms of things she herself didn’t know about. Latte was never intimidated by Ena’s presence, but despite her confusion at some points, she never wanted to give up on them. This went for their emotions as well. It was upsetting to see them go so soon.

Yuri -> At first, Latte was sure she could read Yuri like a open book (pun intended). A quiet girl who just needed a gentle push in the right direction to expose her full potential. However, past the second trial, Latte was scratching her head at what had just happened. She still does not feel anything that Yuri said was her true beliefs, and that deep down she was still the same sweet girl that just got caught up in something horrible.

Mai -> (oh god… please have mercy on me) What can I say that wasn't already 100% obvious unless you're playing historian. Latte loved Mai a lot, and not just in that way. Her overall outlook on life, her fun ideas to build bonds, her interest in Latte's own life and interests; she really was the ideal other half. Nothing could ever hurt more than seeing those gingerMais. Still, she's trying her best to overcome the grief despite all.

Bojack -> Latte never really approved of Bojack's overall lifestyle (then again, there weren't a whole lot who did). She was just grateful he kept himself away from the students (par Natsuki, but that was more of an exception considering what he did for her). She felt some sorrow for his case, but ultimately decided not to get too involved unless for Jesse's sake.

For these guys, I’ll talk about how she sees them so far (like the ask intends, but as chapter 5 isn’t over yet, I’ll include the chapter 5 victim in the same fashion):

L -> Latte is very impressed by L's wit and skills, and although I've attempted to lightly reference this in the fic before, he reminds her a little of Espresso Cookie. She doesn't necessarily think she relies on him for trials and such too much, however she's grateful he uses his intelligence to help them all investigate further into Nesos rather than stay selfish about it. At least, that's what it looks like in her eyes.

Jesse -> Latte has seen first hand how much Jesse has been through (in terms of those he's lost so far). She does tend to look out for him from time to time (those teacher tendencies kicking in), but tries not to coddle him too much considering his age. She thinks Jesse should be a little more responsible with some habits, considering he tends to spend a lot of time with Natsuki now, but won't overstep her boundaries.

Natsuki -> It was tough seeing Natsuki go through the notions ever since her murder case. Latte is very proud of how Natsuki's dealing with things so far, even taking some of her own advice into account. She also really enjoys Natsuki's baking, and hopes she continues to bake more in the future despite what set her back (and perhaps join her for another baking session).

Saiki -> As he is Kaidou's friend, Latte has always felt sorrow for how Saiki has been dealing with things since the second case. She's happy how he's manage to come more out of his shell as of late, but wishes he could speak up more because she can tell he has a lot of potential despite his mysterious demeanor.

Brian -> Latte sees Brian as a good person who tries his best despite his clumsiness. She's very curious about his role as a witch-hunter, but ever since their small talk about it, she's only gotten more questions on why he doesn't recognise her descriptions of the witch.

Kurumada -> At first, Latte wasn't a fan of Kurumada's brutish and brash nature. However, she's now warmed up to him after seeing more of why he acts this way, especially after Mai's death. She can tell how much he works to make Hayasaka as comfortable as possible at any moment, being during a murder case or a normal day. They both share a want to help avenge Mai's will.

Hayasaka -> Latte finds Hayasaka a delight to talk to, by proxy of her connection towards Mai, but is also appreciative of what he tries to do for the group in trials and such. She notices how much he tends to look out for younger members of the group (i.e. Saiki) and wonders if he bares some secret parental tendencies deep down. She hopes he could open up more, after seeing what he said during their time at the arcade.

[skye-huntress]

I’m in Love with the Villainess Reaction

Episode 9

Before we get started, I wanted to say something first. I’ve been curious for a while what the reaction to Lene’s secret would be and I’ve made an interesting observation. Most of the comments condemning her and her relationship sounded way too similar to the comments I’d seen condemning homosexuality. As for me, upon some self-reflection, I decided that if I had someone like Lene in my life, it’d be far worse thinking they couldn’t come to me for help because they felt I would judge them.

Can’t forget that even with only a High attribute, Claire has her own OP attack spell.

Yes, Rae has absolute faith in Claire’s capabilities.

Noo, Prince Thane’s hair! You monster! What’s that? He’s bleeding? Poison? Eh, I’m sure he’ll walk it off.

That’s still pretty impressive to use knowledge from a game to counteract a real poison.

Nur Empire crumbs. It’ll probably be a few years more before the manga gets there.

The Commoner Movement might have lost its steam with the reveal of the conspiracy, but that doesn’t mean any of the underlying issues are resolved. What happened with Dede’s sentence is still an excellent example of certain nobles’ sense of privilege and superiority over commoners.

So, here’s the thing a lot of people didn’t understand about the potential motivations and consequences of Lambert and Lene’s actions. They were committing an act of treason against the crown, who generally take extreme measures to punish such things. Right or wrong, the entire family will be judged and punished for their crimes, regardless of their awareness or involvement. That’s why simply threatening a single family member isn’t a strong enough motivation on its own to betray the crown. Family is important, but who would doom the entire family for a single member?

I love it when they’re on their same wavelength, plotting together. We don’t get too much of that this early in the series.

We heard you loud and clear, Claire, you find Rae very attractive in formal wear.

Fun fact, Rae prefers wearing pants over skirts and dresses. Even Claire has a hard time trying to get Rae into a dress.

Look at those knights in full armour. And now I’m thinking about a certain fight scene later in the books. Those who’ve read them know what I’m talking about.

All hail, King Vegeta!

You gotta admit, even though it was obvious what they were going to ask, at least for the audience, it’s still a ballsy move. Like I said, treason is punished so harshly, even those whose only “crime” is being related to the actual criminals are executed.

Ah, Salas, the Prime Minister. Another character who I should avoid talking about.

Wow, look at Thane, the least favoured for the throne, sounding very much like a king right now.

Oh, these two are couple goals.

You know, we never learned what happened to the rest of the Aurousseau’s, just what Lene and Lambert got up to on their own.

Don’t think I didn’t notice what you slipped in in that flashback montage.

Quite the optimistic and hopeful parting. It’s not like Lene can visit, unless something extreme happened in the Bauer Kingdom, like a revolution or some- oh wait…

She’s almost here. And wow, they just revealed it in the promo that she was Claire’s first love (the charming “prince” little Claire mentioned in that flashback). Sure, she thought she was a boy, but Thane also had some pretty feminine features, enough to pull off a maid outfit. And who can forgot how Claire was convinced to go along with that cafe idea. Just saying, there’s a pattern here and it’s saying quite clearly that there ain’t no way this girl is straight.

[multifandominfj]

A New Beginning: A Supergirl 6x20 Re-Write

Chapter Fourteen: Let The Party Begin

“Okay everyone, they should be on their way.” Kelly announced. “Kara has no idea about any of this, and most of you she hasn’t seen since the wedding.”

“I gotta say, Lena sure knows how to throw a party.” Sara brings Ava a Martini while they wait.

“I loved your proposal, babe, but I’m even going to admit this has the makings of a Hallmark movie proposal. If that Hallmark movie were also based on fanfiction.” Ava commented.

“Those may be unrealistic…” Iris joins them at their table.

“But you have to admit, Kara and Lena are what those couples should be in the movies.” Sam finished Iris’s thought, practically the same thing.

On the far side of the room we’re Barry, Cat and Lois.

“Cat, I’m surprised with your busy schedule, you managed to make it tonight.” Lois brings over a Bourbon on the rocks for Cat.

“When my best reporter and Editor and Chief is getting engaged to the woman who single handedly helped jump start the re-brand of CatCo with her foundation’s feature piece on female run businesses, I made sure to make time.” Cat takes a long sip of her drink.

“Come on, Miss Grant.” Barry gave her a knowing look. Kara had told him many stories about how Cat genuinely cared, she just had her image to upkeep.

“Oh, sweet, innocent, slightly naïve Bartholomew. If I didn’t know any better, you were acting like an alternate universe version of that charming insect man in those comic books movies; who most definitely drank the blood of a vampire to look as good as he does, to get me to reveal how I’m really feeling...”

Lois was the human embodiment of the wide eyed emoji. She was dying to see how this would play out.

“That, my dear human battery charger, is between Kiera and I. But, if it will satisfy the very clear, and annoyingly eager newborn puppy energy radiating off you…I am…beyond happy for the both of them.” Cat chugged the rest of her Bourbon. “Excuse me, I’m going to go take advantage of the open bar.”

Stifling her laughter from not only the reveal of Barry’s full name, but Cat reading him to filth, Lois had a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Bartholomew? Oh, I’m never going to let that go.”

Over by the window in one of the more lounge areas, Nia and Esme were having some girls' time. “Here you go Esme, one Dream Girl.” Nia sets before her a tall glass of a lemon-lime soda, blueberry simple syrup and blue curaçao syrup with a blueberry garnish; the virgin mocktail of her actual drink.

“They gave you your own drink, Aunt Nia?” Esme stared at both in awe. “Have you had one before? I would be bragging about it all the time.” Picking up the drink, she took a big sip to savor.

“It is pretty cool, isn’t it?” Nia gleefully took a sip of her own cocktail as she waited for the verdict from Esme. “So, what do you think?”

“It is the best thing in National City, ever.” Esme giggled. “Do you think Aunt Kara is going to like the surprise?

“Not only do I think your Aunt Kara is going to like the party with all of us here, I think she’s going to like the way your Aunt Lena is going to ask her to marry her.” The plot twist: Lena had texted Nia that day that she had learned “Will you Marry Me?” in Kryptonian to surprise Kara. Just another layer to make the night memorable.

And closer to the doors were J’onn, Ruby, Kelly and Alex. “So Ruby, your mom told me that you managed to get an internship with Lena at her Foundation?” Kelly slides that into their conversation.

“I did!” Ruby loved telling people about her job for two reasons: she wanted to inspire others, and she wanted to make a difference in the world. “For my Business Administration class we had to write a paper on our favorite CEO, and…I actually chose Aunt Lena. I actually brought that as her engagement party present. And, for Aunt Kara I got her a cookbook that has all different kinds of potsticker recipes.”

“I think she just put everyone here to shame when it comes to gifts.” Alex jokingly nudged her shoulder. “But seriously, those are some of the best ideas I’ve heard, and I know they’re going to love them.”

“And I think I speak for everyone not only at this table, but everyone here in general, that this party is the culmination of a long and winding history that has ended with hardly any stress.” Nobody said it, but J’onn had definitely jinxed it.

“Attention everyone!” Brainy had come in from outside, watching for Kara and Lena. “Kara and Lena have landed a block away and there is a 96.4% chance they will see the rest of you if you don’t get to the designated hidden area behind the wall.”

“I guess that's our cue.” Iris starts to lead everybody in that direction.

“That means we better hide too. Kara doesn’t even know we’re here.” Kelly picked up Esme as the immediate family went to a different designated area.

“I think Aunt Kara is going to be speechless, which is a first since she likes to talk a lot.” Esme jokingly burned her family, another Danvers thing she picked up rather quickly.

“I think you might be right, kiddo.” Alex gave Kelly a look as if to say, “She gets that from me, and I apologize in advance.” all while stifling a chuckle.

*Meanwhile outside the door*

“I still can’t believe you managed to get the whole restaurant…just for us.” Kara stared up at the iridescent neon sign above them, before meeting Lena’s gaze once more. “I know I say this all the time, but you’re incredible.”

“You’re worth it, Kara. Always have been.” And as she opened the door, and they both stepped inside in unison…

“SURPRISE!!!!!”

“Oh my god!” Kara’s identifiable cackling through her shock was her sign that she definitely loved the surprise. “How did you get everyone here?” Everyone filed over to give Kara a hug.

“Well, it’s not every day one of your friends decides to not only reveal their identity, but get an entire spread in a magazine as well? We had to come.” Sara’s signature dimples accompanied her to give Kara a hug. “Might I add, those photos…I may be married, but I stand by what I said when we first met.” They both then exchanged a knowing grin.

“Now that everyone is here, I think we can get this party started.” Alex declared throughout the entire room.

“Alex is right.” Kara was already at the center of the dance floor. “Brainy, please tell me you have a good playlist on that computer of yours.”

“Fear not, for I have several that are a 100% chance to have everyone getting down at the gig, as they would say on this Drag Race.”

Nia nods with approval at the use of vocab.

With the push of a button, everyone was immediately having fun. All inhibitions were gone, and the guests were being absolutely ridiculous in the best possible way.

“So what time do you plan on popping the question?” Cat pulled Lena aside before they joined in the fun.

“Before dessert.” Lena quickly answered, having thought to herself she’d hesitate.

“As much as that sounds like something out of an Indie Rom Com, that’s perfect. Especially for Kiera. Cat cracked a rare, unforced smile. And in front of Lena.

“Thank you, Miss Grant.” Lena hung back a bit, just to watch the love of her life, be the absolute goofball she fell for in the first place. And within the next few hours of everyone eating, drinking and dancing the night away, they would all be present for a declaration of love for the ages.

Here is Chapter 14, guys! Sorry I didn’t post it yesterday, I ended up getting busy. Anyways, hope you enjoy. 🤗

[seasidesandstarscapes]

Whole

Summary: Don comes out to Bobby

Rating: G

Genre: Canon Era, Trans Don, Period-Typical Attitudes, Getting Together, Light Angst, Slice of Life

Words: 1336

A/N: for @arokel who has been the driving force behind my trans!Don fics thank youuuuu ;v;

-

AO3

or

Bobby is safe.

Don is sure of that. He’s never stated anything outright, but it’s the little comments here and there. When some distasteful words are spoken, Bobby is the first to shoot them down.

Not to mention that Bobby is his closest friend. Never before has Don been so secure, being able to exist as he’s always wanted.

He finds it’s only fair for Bobby to know the truth.

But as much as he believes in Bobby, Don is still gripped by fear. Who, what he is, it’s not by the book. Even he had to trudge through a fog until he met one woman that changed it all.

She showed him the world, took him under her wing until Don was ready to go out on his own. It’s been years since he’s last seen her, but she’s never far from his thoughts and gratitude.

Don thinks maybe he owes it to her. But he’s not so sure anymore as he leads Bobby to their familiar haunt.

The bar is bustling tonight but they still manage to squeeze into a booth in a corner. Drinks are ordered and once the buzz starts to set in, Don thinks over his words.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?” Bobby nudges him with a grin.

Don swallows, looks Bobby in the eye. His gaze is curious, fond, and, if Don is being hopeful, encouraging.

Leaning in so he doesn’t have to shout over the band, Don speaks close to Bobby’s ear.

“You’re my best friend,” Don starts to break the ice.

Bobby chuckles. “You don’t say. That all you wanted to tell me?”

It’s a heavy breath that leaves Don and he thinks he sees Bobby shiver. “I…I think I like you more than that,” Don admits. “And there’s something else you should know.”

Drawing back, Bobby stares at Don. A pit forms in Don’s stomach. He can’t tell if Bobby is mad or about to burst into tears. His grip is tight on his glass and Don reaches over to release Bobby’s hold just so he doesn’t break it on accident.

“I’m a transsexual too,” Don blurts out.

All he gets is a blink, a furrowed brow. “What?”

“I’m..,” Don doesn’t want to explain. Wishes he didn’t have to. “If you look at my medical records, they list me as a woman.”

Bobby’s mouth opens and closes but no sound comes out. Regret courses through Don, the bar is too stuffy, the music too loud.

“I…I gotta go,” is all Bobby says before he slides out of the booth.

Don makes no move to stop him. His chest aches as he watches Bobby leave the bar, his head is pounding. Anger and despair mix together creating a storm inside of Don.

He should’ve known better. No one could understand outside of his old friend. And now he’s lost Bobby, someone he thought, believed, would be different. Don tucks his arms close to himself, wipes his face with trembling hands. He doesn’t even know when he started crying.

His life is in ruins now and Don can’t do anything to fix it.

~

Don doesn’t know what makes him go to practice the next day.

He’s walking into a minefield and he holds his breath as he enters the locker room. There’s no sign of Bobby, but more than that, the boys give him their usual cheery hellos.

Don expected stares and hurling insults. Instead, he just gets a few slaps on the back, small talk asking how his morning is going.

He’s in a haze as he makes his way to the dock where Bobby and the coaches are already waiting. Don panics, thinks to turn around, but before he can run, Ulbrickson starts speaking.

Plans for the day’s practice washes over Don. Nothing is directed at him and before he knows it, he’s seated in the shell, the familiar wooden oar tight in his hands.

Bobby avoids his gaze but Don hopes all his own says is a simple thank you. Regardless of Bobby’s reaction, he hasn’t had Don kicked off the team and that says more than Don can say.

Practice goes smoothly.

Don is shocked he’s able to pull his head out, to focus on his rowing with Bobby right in front of him. He was sure he’d be a spectacular loss today but when he gets back on the dock, Don is floating on air.

And when Bobby gives him a soft smile, Don’s heart thumps in his chest.

He takes his time changing, soaking in the small understanding Bobby has given him. It’s only when he hears the clearing of a throat that Don realizes he’s alone in the locker room save for one other person.

“Do you wrap your chest?” Bobby asks the moment Don faces him.

Don blinks rapidly, then gives a single nod.

“Every day? For how long?” Bobby’s arms are crossed and his stare is boring into Don.

It takes some time for his mind to catch up. Bobby didn’t know a thing just a day ago and now he’s acting as if he’s an expert.

Don stumbles over his words, mush coming out of his mouth. Bobby sighs, his gaze darting around.

“I, um, talked to a friend,” Bobby mutters. “I just don’t want you hurting yourself. Can’t be good to do that every day.”

Confusion swirls in Don’s mind. He can only see Bobby’s panicked reaction, his rapid exit from the bar. Nothing makes sense.

“I can’t really get surgery. Not here anyway.”

Don isn’t sure why this is the first thing he says. He looks away, his hands clenching and unclenching as blood pounds in his ears.

“Where then?” Bobby asks with an inquisitive head tilt.

“Wait,” Don shakes his head, holds out a hand as if to block Bobby. “Where is all this coming from?”

Bobby purses his lips, his eyes cast downward. The seconds tick by before Bobby inhales sharply.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone last night. I was scared. Confused. I’m sorry, Don.”

An apology is the last thing Don is expecting and he swallows as Bobby takes a step closer.

“Thing is, I fancy you too. I didn’t know about the other side though. About people like you.”

Don waits with bated breath, steels himself as the space between him and Bobby gets smaller and smaller.

“I want to understand. I want to help you,” Bobby takes his hand. “Whatever it takes.”

With all his thoughts colliding together Don struggles. He wants to yell, cry, and laugh all at once but all he can do is gape at Bobby.

Bobby offers him a small smile, raises Don’s hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles,

“Will you give me a second chance? Will you let me in?” Bobby asks just above a whisper.

Don chokes around a gasp, nods fevertly. “Yes.”

When Bobby pulls him into a hug, Don lets his tears fall with no shame. And then it hits him. Bobby means what he says, he doesn’t have to hide like before.

“Hey, hey,” Bobby rubs his back through his sobs. “I’m here, Donny.”

Don tries to calm his crying, but he has to ride out the waves before he can finally take a breath. Bobby holds Don by his biceps, makes sure Don’s eyes lock onto his.

“You’ll let me know if you’re having troubles during practice, won’t you?”

Don nods with a sniff and he wipes at his face with his sleeve. Then, Bobby stands on his toes, places a soft kiss on Don’s cheek.

“I’m always going to be here for you,” Bobby murmurs. “I won’t leave you ever again.”

It’s so easy to trust, to believe, and Don settles into the familiarity of what they are. How lucky he is that the universe brought them together.

Bobby is his home and Don can keep on going, safe with the knowledge that he no longer has to be alone.

[foxymoxynoona]

Hey this has been something stewing around in my brain since the last chapter and since I’m procrastinating my finals- now seems like the right time to bring it up.

Do you know when jungkook is gonna find out about Sasha’s backstory? Or at least more of it. Personally I want the kind of reaction that you sort of brought up when she talked about living in extreme poverty. But you also said that he goes to his parents a lot for advice. I don’t think he’d have a big reaction with her, but the minute he’s alone he’s calling his parents sobbing. At least that’s how I see it.

I love pathetic men GOD

Gotta admit I love them too 😂😂😂

I do currently have the bit written, but it's something I won't give more spoilery details on because I want to reserve the rigth to change it if it winds up feeling liek it should go different 😎 Because I've written things so out of order, I think there's a good growth and continuity, but still as we get further into the books, I want to make sure thatthe plots and behavior feel right, you know? If the story evolves differently, I don't want to stick to what I wrote just because it's written. We'll follow the story wherever it goes!

I think you have a good point though about how he's been written so far. He's trained to not be reactive in a negative way about anything, which is habit then if someone is telling him something seriously, but he also feels deeply and cares deeply.

[rjalker]

hey who wants to read the Flatland translation into 2023 English so far.

There's like, 4K words so far out of around 30K

Here's where you can read the actual book for free

=====

Preface to the Second and Revised Edition, 1884.

By the Original Editor

I am writing this preface for my friend from Flatland, since he has been so mentally devastated by his years spent in prison that he can’t write it himself. Rather than copying his words directly, I am paraphrasing on his behalf so you, my readers, will understand what he means.

First of all, he wants to thank all of his readers, both fans and critics, in Spaceland, who’ve enjoyed his book so much that he had to get it reprinted again to meet the demand.

Second of all, also wants to apologize for some errors and misprints in the original edition, though these aren’t actually his fault.

Third of all, he wants to explain a few things that have confused some readers.

He wanted to respond himself, but he’s not the Square he used to be. The problem is not just that he is a prisoner, it’s that no one believes what he has to say, and do nothing but mock him. He’s also an old man now, and his memory is fading. He’s forgotten many of the ideas he learned on his adventure in Spaceland, and the words to describe them.

So he has asked me to reply on his behalf, to explain two points that many confused readers are upset by.

The first thing people complain about is that when a Flatlander sees a Line, that means they have to be seeing something that does have height, not just width and length, otherwise it would be invisible from the side. So why doesn’t he admit that his people already exist in three dimensions?

I understand that people are going to complain about this, since it’s such an obvious problem with the idea that Flatlanders only exist in two dimensions. I gotta say, I really wasn’t sure how to respond when I first read this comment, since I couldn’t think of any counter argument, but fortunately my friend was able to answer it in a way that makes sense to me, so I’ll paraphrase his words here for you:

"I admit," he said, "What this critic said about us having some height is true, but that doesn’t mean we exist in three dimensions the way Spacelanders do. Yes, Flatlanders are tall as well as long and wide, otherwise we’d be invisible, but this isn’t something we can measure or recognize on our own – (Remember, I didn’t even know the word “up” before my adventure in Spaceland) -- and you Spacelanders also have a fourth dimension you don’t have a name for, that I’ll call ‘extra-height’, that you can’t measure or understand on your own either, but that doesn’t mean you’re fourth-dimensional beings anymore than I’m a third dimensional being. Even after my adventure, I still can’t measure height, or “upwards”, not by seeing it, or even trying to imagine it. But I know it’s there, and I have to rely on pure faith.

“Let me try to explain. You can only measure something if it has variation to be measured in the first place. If everyone, and every single thing you see – animals, people, trees, buildings -- is exactly the same height, you can’t measure height, because there’s nothing to compare it to. It’s just the way the world is. Nothing is shorter than anything else, or taller. There’s nothing there to measure. Especially because everything you see is all that you can see. You can’t see above the height of everything, or below it. It’s just what’s there.

“Some Spacelander critics who like to complain too much have suggested we invent a so-called “delicate micrometer” to measure our height, but again, that’s impossible for us to do, because we can’t measure upwards, nor can we compare it to anything else.

“When we see a Line, we see something that is long and bright, and that’s how we know it’s a Line. Brightness and length are needed for us to understand what we are seeing. If there’s no brightness, the Line becomes invisible to us, and may as well not exist.

“This is why, when I try to explin the concept of height, or ‘upwards’ to my Flatland friends, when I try to point out the existance of height in a Line, the only thing they can see is the Brightness. And when I tell them I mean something else, a different dimension, they demand I prove it’s there by measuring it. Which I obviously can’t do, for the reasons I’ve already explained. You can’t measure what has no variation.

“It was just yesterday that the Chief Circle – our High Priest, or maybe in your terms better understood as the ultimate President or King – came to visit me, the seventh of his yearly visits. And just like the last six times he came to visit me, he asked me the same question: ‘Are you sane yet?’.

“And so I tried to explain to him that he was tall as well as wide and long. And you can probably guess his response. ‘You say I am ‘high’, so measure my ‘high-ness’, and then I’ll believe you.’

“And how, exactly, am I supposed to do the impossible? I’ve already explained that we can’t measure height. There was nothing I could do to prove what I said, and we both knew it. He left the room, just as triumphant as the earlier six visits.

“Still confused? Then put yourself in my shoes – imagine a person from the Fourth Dimension decided to visit you, said:

“‘Whenever you open your eyes, you see what appears to be a two dimensional image, and you understand that these are actually many different three-dimensional objects, through shading and light, and because you can reach out and touch them. And you think all you are seeing is Three-Dimensional, but really, you’re also seeing a Fourth Dimension, and it’s not color, or shadows, or anything like that, but a true, separate Dimension. No, I can’t point it out to you, no, I can’t give you any way of measuring it or seeing it, you just have to trust me.’

“And how would you respond to someone saying this? Wouldn’t you want him thrown into an asylum too?

“Well, that’s what happened to me. I was a Square who tried to convince my countrymen that there was a Third Timension, and I was locked up, just as you Spacelanders would lock up anyone who tried to tell you there was a Fourth Dimension.

“Alas, the family resemblance of ignorance and bigotry runs strong through humanity in all Dimensions! Points, Lines, Squares, Cubes, Extra-Cubes, it doesn’t matter – we are all just as likely to make the same mistakes, believing only what we can see, and refusing to think beyond that.

“As your famous Spaceland playwrite, William Shakespeare once said, 'One touch of Nature makes all worlds akin'."

That’s what he told me in response to this complaint, and it makes sense to me.

As a further note on this point, the Author also wants me to also tell you that in this updated edition of his story, we have added back in some of the extra details of his conversations with the Sphere that we originally left out, because we assumed you, the audience, would find them boring and unnecessary.

So there is his defence against the first point of complaint. I can’t find anything to argue with about it, it seems like a solid defence.

As for the second point of complaint…I wish I could tell you that his response to the criticism was just as well thought out, but I can’t.

It has been objected that he is a woman-hater, and, because many of the people making this complaint are Women themselves who feel hurt by this, I want to reassure you to the best of my ability that this is not the case, at least as far as I can tell you that without lying.

The unfortunate fact is that the Square who is the Author of this book is not used to thinking in terms of morality, let alone the ideas of morality that we in Spaceland have.

If I were to literally transcribe his response to this complaint, I’d be making him look much worse than he really is, because he doesn’t really understand how to articulate his thoughts on this topic, because Flatland does not have the words to describe it.

So, as I am already doing by paraphrasing his words for you, I paraphrase again his response to this allegation of misogyny.

It’s my understanding that since he was imprisoned seven years ago, he has changed many of the personal views he expressed in this book, both in regards to Women, as well as the Isosceles and other Lower Classes, such as Irregulars.

His opinion is now much closer to that of the Sphere who visited him, that Straight Lines are in many ways superior to Circles.

But, because he wrote this book from the perspective of a Historian, he aligned himself (maybe too closely) with the general views held by the Higher Classes of Flatland, and, as I’ve since told him, many among us here in Spaceland.

I don’t think I need to tell you that many of our own Historians, who are mostly Men, have generally not considered the lives of Women or other Oppressed People to be worthy of consideration.

The Author also wishes to deny the idea that he is still a supporter of the Circles and Aristocracy. He has had a long time to think since his imprisonment, and while he doesn’t deny that the Circles are very intelligent – otherwise, he says, they wouldn’t have managed to stay in control for so long – he believes that the facts of Flatland speak for themselves.

Revolution cannot always be suppressed by slaughter, and because the Circles themselves tend to be infertile, he believes that Nature Herself has condemned their actions as a failure in the end. “And this is where,” He said, “I see the laws of Nature working in all worlds. Man thinks he is doing one thing, and he thinks he knows best, but Nature is wise, and cannot be denied. Her end goal is much different, and better, than what Man plans for.”

For the other complaints, the Author begs the readers not to assume that every detail of daily life in Flatland is a mirror of some other detail in Spaceland.

He hopes that his book, taken as a whole, will be educational as well as amusing to Spacelanders who are willing to suspend their disbelief and not immediately cry, “That can’t happen”, or “No, things only work like this”.

The rest of this book, I leave to him, in his original words, now with the small edition of some clarification in his conversations with the Sphere.

===

Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions

by A Square

===

Table of Contents:

Part One: This World

01. Of the Nature of Flatland

02. Of the Climate and Houses in Flatland

03. Concerning the Inhabitants of Flatland

04. Concerning the Women

05. Of our Methods of Recognizing one another

06. Of Recognition by Sight

07. Concerning Irregular Figures

08. Of the Ancient Practice of Painting

09. Of the Universal Colour Bill

10. Of the Suppression of the Chromatic Sedition

11. Concerning our Priests

12. Of the Doctrine of our Priests

Part Two: Other Worlds

13. How I had a Vision of Lineland

14. How I vainly tried to explain the nature of Flatland

15. Concerning a Stranger from Spaceland

16. How the Stranger vainly endeavoured to reveal to me in words the mysteries of Spaceland

17. How the Sphere, having in vain tried words, resorted to deeds

18. How I came to Spaceland, and what I saw there

19. How, though the Sphere shewed me other mysteries of Spaceland, I still desired more; and what came of it

20. How the Sphere encouraged me in a Vision

21. How I tried to teach the Theory of Three Dimensions to my Grandson, and with what success

22. How I then tried to diffuse the Theory of Three Dimensions by other means, and of the result

===

Part 1: This World

"Be patient, for the world is broad and wide."

Section 1.

Of the Nature of Flatland

I don’t call our world Flatland because that’s what we call it, but because I want to make what it’s like clearer to you, my happy readers who are privileged to live in Space.

Imagine a vast sheet of paper on which Straight Lines, Triangles, Squares, Pentagons, Hexagons, and other geometric shapes, rather than being drawn by pencil or pen, are alive, and move freely about, either on, or maybe you’d call it within, the surface of the paper, but unable to rise above or sink below it. Almost like shadows, but hard and solid, with glowing edges.

If you can imagine this, you’ll have a pretty good idea of what my country looks like.

Just a few years ago, I would have said, “my universe” instead of “my country”, but now I know better.

In such a flat land, you Spacelanders will almost immediately assume that it’s impossible for there to be anything you would consider “solid”. And yet, if you look down, you’ll see the Triangles, Squares, and other figures, just like I said.

We on the other hand, see no such thing, because the only things we can see are straight lines.

If this sounds confusing, let me give you an example, which you can follow along with while you read.

Get a penny, or another small coin or similar object, and place it in the middle of one of your tables in Spaceland.

When you stand above it and look down, you see the penny as a circle.

But, if you move back to the edge of the table, and lower yourself partway towards the ground – more like the way we Flatlanders see the world – you’ll see that the penny now looks less like a circle, and more like an oval.

Then, when your eye is level with the edge of the table, when you are closest to what you can get to being “on our level”, you’ll see that the penny, seen from above as a circle, now appears to just be a straight line.

The same thing would happen if you did this with a Triangle, or Square, or any other shape you could cut out of cardboard. As soon as you look at it with your eye on the table, it looks like a straight line.

Take for example an equilateral Triangle—who with us is a Tradesman, or Proffesional Man, of the respectable class.

Figure 1 below represents the Tradesman as you would see him while you were bending over him from above, as a triangle with all three sides of equal length.

Figures 2 and 3 represent the Tradesman as you would see him if you began to move your eye closer to the level of the table.

Figure 4 represents what you would see if your eye were level with the table: nothing but a straight line, which is how we see him in Flatland.

[Image description start: Figures 1, 2, 3, and 4. Each is a very simple black and white illustrations of an equal-sided triangle seen from different angles, first from above, where he is plainly seen as a triangle, then slowly moving the view down so that he gets flatter and flatter until he is nothing but a straight line. Image description end.]

When I visited Spaceland, among other things not work talking about in detail, I was told that your sailors have a similar experience when they’re out on the ocean – distant lands might have bays, cliffs, buildings, and all kind of shapes on them from close by, but until you get close enough, or unless the sun’s bright enough to cast stark shadows, all you can see at a distance is a grey line on the horizon.

That’s like what we see when one of our triangular or other acquaintances comes towards us in Flatland. We have no shadows like you do, and none of the other advantages your vision has in Spaceland. If our friend comes closer to us, he becomes larger, if he goes away, he becomes smaller, but he’s always a straight Line. It doesn’t matter if he’s a Triangle, Square, Pentagon, Hexagon, Circle, or anything else. He always looks like a straight Line, and nothing else.

You’ll of course be wondering how we tell eachother apart if this is all we can see, and I’ll be able to make you understand better once I finish describing the people who live in Flatland.

But for the moment, let me pause this subject, and instead tell you about our houses, and the climate of Flatland.

===

Section 2. Of the Climate and Houses in Flatland

Like in your world, we also have four points on our compass: North, South, East, and West.

Since we have no sun or other celestial bodies like you do, we can’t tell where North is in the way you do, but we have our own way.

Similar to your birds, we always know where south is, because for us, we are constantly being pulled in that direction. This pull is very small in our most northern countries, so light that even a reasonably healthy Woman can travel for several furlongs (note that 1 furlong is equal to 220 yards) northward without difficulty.

But even at its lightest, we can still feel it, and tell which way is South. As an added bonus, the rain, which always falls on a predictable schedule, always comes from the North.

Because of this, when we are in a town or city, we can tell the direction from the way the houses are built – because the rain comes from the north, the solid roof faces north, so that the water can run of and safely down the sides without getting inside.

When you’re out in the country were there are no houses, you can use the trunks of the trees instead.

As you can see, it’s usually pretty easy for us to get our bearings.

But one problem is that when you are so far north that you can barely feel this pull, if you were walking in a deserted plain with no trees or houses in sight, I’ve sometimes gotten so turned around that I had to stand in place for hours straight, waiting for the rain to come so I’d know which way to go.

If you are ill or old, or a delicate Female, this pull to the South weighs heavier than on the healthy members of the Male Sex, so it’s considered polite that, if you meet a Lady in the street, you will move to the South and give her the North side to walk on. This can be easier said than done in such short notice, if you are in a northern climate where it’s hard to tell which way is south, or if you’re feeling sick yourself.

Unlike your buildings, ours have no windows, because light comes to us everywhere equally, whether you’re inside and out, during the day or night, and where this light comes from, we don’t know.

A long time ago, philosophers and scholars used to ask eachother “What is the origin of light?” and debate the possible answers. Many people have tried to find the answer to this question, and the only result is that our lunatic asylums have precious space taken up by the people who’ve claimed to solve it.

Our Government tried to persuade people to stop trying to solve this problem by forcing those who did to pay heavy taxes, but when it kept being a problem, the Law Makers, not so long ago comparatively, finally made it completely illegal to talk about.

And here I am, the only one in Flatland who knows the truth to where light comes from. But I can’t explain it to my countrymen, and they just laugh at me – me! The only one in this world who understands that Light comes from the Third Dimension! They laugh at me like I’m the maddest of the mad.

But I’ve gotten off track and this is a painful topic, so let’s get back to talking about houses.

Most of our houses are five-sided shapes, or as they are commonly called, pentagons.

Here is an illustration to help you understand:

[Image description start: A black and white digital illustration with the compass in the upper left corner, showing a pentagonal house in Flatland. Each of the five points of the pentagon are with a different letter, with “A” and “B” going left to right on the bottom line, and “R”, “O”, and “F” left to right on the top, with the two diagonal lines marked with their combined points, so that the top two diagonal lines spell out, “roof”. On the Western diagonal side is a large gap marked by a grey line labled, “Men’s door”. On the east is a much smaller gap labled, “Women’s door”. Image description end.]

The two northernmost sides of a pentagon house, which in the illustration are labled “RO” and “OF”, make of the roof, and these normally don’t have any doors. On the eastern side, there is a small door for Women, and across from it on the Western side is a much larger door for Men. The Southern side, or floor, usually doesn’t have any doors.

Square and triangular houses aren’t allowed, because their angles are much sharper than those of a Pentagon, and since the lines of inanimate objects, like houses, are dimmer than the lines of Men and Women, and are harder to see, if someone wasn’t paying attention, they could get seriously hurt if they accidentally ran into the corner of a Square or Triangle shaped house.

As far back as the eleventh century of our era, triangular houses have been illegal to build, with the only exceptions being for military structures like forts, ammunition stores, barracks, or other state buildings that most people aren't allowed to enter without special permission.

At that point in time, you were still allowed to build square houses, but they were subject to special taxes to discourage people from building more of them.

Three hundred years after triangular houses were outlawed, the Law finally decided that if a town’s population was above ten thousand, then the angle of a Pentagon was the smallest house-angle allowed to be built, in the interest of public safety.

The general community has common sense, and has agreed with this new law, so now, even out in the country on farms, almost all houses you can find will be pentagons. Now and then, though, in some very remote and poor farming district, an antiquarian might still find an ancient square house.

===

Section 3. Concerning the Inhabitants of Flatland

Most adult Flatlanders will reach a length of around eleven of your inches, or twenty-eight centimeters. Twelve inches, or around thirty centimeters, is considered a record breaking maximum.

Our Women are Straight Lines.

Our Soldiers, and the Lowest Classes of Workers are Triangles with two equal sides, each about eleven inches, or twenty-eight centimeters long, with their third side, or base, so short (Usually less than half an inch, or two centimeters), that they form at their vertices an extremely sharp angle, or point.

When these sorts of Triangles have a base of the most degraded type (less than an eighth of an inch, or three millimeters), it’s almost impossible to tell them apart from Straight Lines or Women, so sharp are their needle-like points.

Just like you do in Spaceland, we refer to these kinds of Triangles as Isosceles, which is how I will refer to them from now on.

Our Middle Class consists of Equilateral or Equal-Sided Triangles.

Our Professional Men and Gentlemen are Squares (which is the class I belong to) and Five-Sided Figures, otherwise known as Pentagons, as mentioned above.

Above us are the Nobility, with several classes, starting with Six-Sided Figures, or Hexagons. After Hexagons, the numbers of sides increase until one is given the honorable title of “Polygonal”, or many-sided.

When the number of one’s sides become so high, and the sides themselves each so small, that the figure can’t be told apart from a circle, he becomes part of the Circular, or Priestly order. There is no class higher than that of the Circles.

It is a Law of Nature with us that a male child will have one more side than his father, so that each generation rises in the ranks of nobility, as a rule.

This means that a Square (4 sides) will have Pentagonal sons (5 sides), and his grandsons will be Hexagons (6 sides), and his great-grandsons will be Septagons (7 sides), his great-great-grandsons Octogons (8 sides) and so on and so forth.

But this rule doesn’t always apply to the Tradesmen, the Equillateral Triangles, and it’s even less common in the Isosceles Soldiers and Workers. But to be fair, they can hardly even be described as human beings, since their sides aren’t all of equal length.

Because they’re subhuman, this Law of Nature doesn’t work on them, and most of the time, the son of an Isosceles is still an Isosceles.

[creoterative]

Tagged by @nullians , thank you so much!

Rules: Answer the questions and tag 9 people you want to know better/catch up with! (I’m sorry, it’s probably not gonna be 9 for me, I don’t know that many people yet xD)

Last Song:

-Bad Blood by Creature Feature. I’ve known this song for years, but it only came up to me again recently, probably because I found Five Thousand Foot Krutch again and I always listen to both bands simultaniously for whatever reason... Also I’m currently trying to figure out my storyboard for my first ever animated video, and One Foot in the Grave by Creature Feature is gonna be the song for it, that’s a reason I got back to it. I’m not expecting much though xD

Three Ships:

-Hmmm... Alright, first, I wanna add, that I really don’t like it if I have to explain why I ship certain characters with each other, because for me shipping is just part of the whole fictional thing and I don’t like it if people come after others for liking certain ships. So... yeah, that being said, I’m just gonna explain a little xD

First ship is Marlon x Brody. I personally don’t see it after their secret is exposed, and as I played it out in my own story for Marlon, I don’t think they would go further than just having a crush on each other. But I like their dynamic as a leader pair, you know, her being his second-in-command, even though she has her anxiety issues (and we all know what happens when he has his, ehem, little outbursts, so...) and in general, I can see them as partners, working together, while slightly blushing sometimes, you know what I’m saying? XD

Second ship is gonna be Arthur Morgan and Mary. First of all, yes, they were a pair at some point, but... I still wanted to list them, I like their story together and how they like to tease the other. And to be honest, their relationship reflects perfectly what I have with someone, so... yeah, only natural I think that relationship is well written and pretty accurate, eh? 

Last but not least, Li Ling and Tang Xuan. I gotta admit, I haven’t played Dislyte for a longer time now, I dunno, it’s one of these games, that I get bored of from time to time, then I get really hyped again and the cycle continues, BUT I will never get rid of it, for that I love it too much. Back to the ship, Li Ling is my favorite by a length and I like how him and Tang Xuan are very casual with each other. You know, I really love it when relationships are portrayed as the normalest thing ever and it’s not a big deal, because yes, to the people involved it may be, but not to everybody else. I love it when they do normal stuff together, like best friends would do, because that’s what a relationship is all about, right? Being able to let loose with the other person, be yourself and act as normal as ever, just with very strong feelings for the person next to you xD And I can totally see that with these two. 

Currently Reading: 

-Sherlock Holmes. I have a list of some older books I want to read to get more writing skills. If that works, well, we’ll see, but it’s fun, especially since Sherlock Holmes books are really interesting and funny in some weird way. I’m reading them in german though, not sure if my english is good enough to read the originals.

Last Movie: 

-Last one I watched in cinema was Avatar 2 and I gotta admit... the visuals were astonishingly great, there’s no doubt. But... three hours is too much and I don’t like it if too many characters are involved. I like character depth, maybe that’s why I can’t focus on Dislyte as well, too many characters being developed too fast, my brain can’t compete...

And last one I watched at home was Top Gun: Maverick, with I thought was a wayyy better experience. Shorter, good character development, nice story, good addition to the first movie... and I like jets xD

Craving: 

-Time.... I need time, that’s all. I want to continue writing the next chapter for my Marlon story, and I’m currently on it, but my goal for writing at least 10.000 words per chapter is a big one xD So far it worked though... 

Thanks for tagging me, again, really enjoyed answering these questions!

Tagging: @ericsonclan @elsaedelweiss @shinneth @anghju @the-rational-mind

[nadja-antipaxos]

four - mirrorball

Previously - Three || Masterlist || Next - Five

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: swearing, drinking alcohol, implied panic attack mentioned, mutual pining, cuddling

Note: Thank you so much to anyone who is reading this. I'm not sure how many of you are out there, but thank you. Please leave  comments if you're enjoying it. I've never written a slow burn before and it is difficult. This chapter takes place immediately after 2x06 ends.

Word Count: 3,062

Richmond has had a four game winning streak due to the improvement in coaching. The media calls it the Roy Kent Effect, but Ted likes to see it as they’re all finally working well together giving the team what they need. He doesn’t say much of this to Priyala because he knows she doesn’t understand any of it. She’s just glad they’re doing well.

He invites them to more matches and when they can, they attend them. Diya’s become quite popular at school for all her selfies with the Greyhounds. Due to her flexible writer’s schedule, Priyala sometimes joins the coaches for lunch. If they’re busy, she’ll go out with Keeley and Rebecca. Rebecca tries her best to explain the rules to Priyala, but Keeley’s better at telling her how to fake interest. Most of Priyala’s female friends are writers she’s met at events, so it’s been quite fun to get to know women in other industries.

It comes as no surprise to…anyone that Ted is her closest new AFC Richmond friend. They’re close in age. She’s only a few years younger.  They both understand the single parent thing and she’s able to give some advice as someone who has already done it. Whenever a new family film comes out on a streaming platform, she invites Ted over to watch it with her and the girls, so he’ll know what Henry is talking about. Henry knows all about Priyala, Diya, and Jaya and is excited to have kids his age to see when he visits his dad. They’ve even watched Frozen 2 together on FaceTime. Diya and Henry kept belting “Into the Unknown” back and forth until Jaya threatened to put the phone in her juice glass. The high notes…were high. It’s a little easier when they’re watching a musical and they’re all singing.

Neither Ted nor Priyala have admitted they’re on bantr.  It’s a little embarrassing since they weren’t going to join. And besides, it’s just a digital friendship with a total stranger or so they both think. Nothing serious. They let You’ve Got Mail set the rules, so they don’t use names or talk about anything personal. They talk about movies, books, theatre (imagine Ted’s surprise when she told him about She Loves Me), and music. It seems like a superficial way of getting to know someone, but they both made it clear from the start that they weren’t on the app for sex. They talk about strange things they noticed that day in London. It’s kind of freeing being able to talk to someone intimately with no real-life consequences. It’s not going to get back to anyone and there’s no judgment.  

SirBakesaLot

Dear friend, I’m feeling a little homesick today. Don’t worry I won’t tell you where I’m from. It’s just not Great Britain.

ABouquet_of_Sharpened_Pencils

Good. Remember the rules, Sir Bakes. I’m sorry you’re homesick. Any comforts of home you could try today? Like a meal or something?

SirBakesaLot

Yeah, I could rustle something up. Still not the same.

ABouquet_of_Sharpened_Pencils

Being homesick just means you really love something. It left an impact. Unless you were run out of town, I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t be able to go back. I don’t mind when I get sad. Reminds me I can still feel and it’ll make you cherish it more when you do go home.

SirBakesaLot

You are very wise, Pencils. Oh, not me. I don’t wanna bring anyone down. Bad feelings can just get out.

ABouquet_of_Sharpened_Pencils

Don’t push ‘em too far down or they’ll explode on you. Been there. Not pretty. Any fun weekend plans?

SirBakesaLot

I’m good at keeping a tight lid on it. Don’t worry. I gotta work this weekend. Big event coming up.

ABouquet_of_Sharpened_Pencils

I’m working too, but no event. Best of luck. You nervous?

SirBakesaLot

I cannot tell a lie. I am nervous, but it’s not all on me.

ABouquet_of_Sharpened_Pencils

Ew. Group project? I hated those. I always got stuck doing all the work.

SirBakesaLot

That sounds awful. My group is a good one. Work well together. I should get moving. Have a nice day, Pencils.

ABouquet_of_Sharpened_Pencils

You too. Talk to you later, Sir Bakes.

On the day of the game of the FA Cup, Diya and Jaya are with Rushil at his parents', out of town, for his mum’s birthday. Diya keeps her informed about the game while she has a busy writing day.  She finishes the first act of the script. It’s definitely a learning curve writing like this.

Priyala meets up with her gorgeous half-sister, Anuradha for dinner. She’s finishing up medical school and the apple of their mother’s eye. Despite their almost twenty-year age gap, they get along very well. They’re a combination of sisters and friends since Priyala was almost an adult when she came along. Priyala’s parents were divorced when she was 6, so bouncing back and forth between England and Boston became very normal. Anuradha has big brown eyes and adorable dimples with a kind and fun demeanor. She’s impossible not to like.

“I cannot believe you of all people are friends with a football manager.” She smiles.

“Don’t worry, I still don’t get it.” Priyala nods. “How’s Gwen?”

“Grad school is driving her up the wall, but she’s good.” Anuradha always gets a cute look on her face when she talks about her girlfriend. “She sends her love to you and my wonderful nieces. I wish they were here!”

“I know, but it was a birthday weekend. Diya’s more upset she couldn’t go to the something cup.”

“She would. Our mum would’ve taken her to the game for her birthday.”

Priyala just laughs.  Their mother liked football a lot more than her eldest and would do anything to make her granddaughters happy.

They order another bottle of wine and discuss the plans for their mother’s upcoming milestone birthday. They part after multiple hugs.

She kicks off her heels and unzips her skirt when her phone lights up. It’s Ted.

“Hey. I heard you won.” Priyala smiles. “Congrats.”

“Hey, uh, yeah, we did.” He sounds off. He should be really excited, right? Instead, he sounds exhausted.

“How are you celebrating?” She raises her eyebrows.

He just scoffs. She doesn’t like this. It sets off her worried mom alarm bell.

“You wanna come over?”

“What? N-No, I couldn’t put this—”

“You didn’t. I did.”

“Um, yeah. That’d be nice. See you in 20?”

“Cool.”

She continues to put on her lounge clothes and washes her face. He’s a friend. She doesn’t have to dress up for this. And he’s seen her without makeup before.  She hadn’t expected to socialize anymore this evening, but he didn’t sound right. While she’s waiting, she looks up the game and sees footage of Ted rushing off the field. His collar is up covering his face and he looks…small. It’s very unlike him to leave at such an important moment. Nate helped them win, but Ted never returned. Twitter debates about whether he’s sick or not. She bites her lip and reminds herself she’s verified with a public account before biting off the heads of some assholes calling him a shitty coach.

There’s a knock on the door and Priyala rushes to it.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

His hair has an errant tendril disrupting its usual perfect look. The circles under his eyes are dark and he’s not even greeting her with a rhyme. It’s the most serious and tired she’s ever seen him.

“Come in.” She opens the door wider.

He shuffles in with his hands in his pockets and looks around. The house seems so quiet without the girls running around. She helps him out of his puffy coat and hangs it up in the closet. He kicks off his sneakers.

“Water? Wine? Whiskey?” She offers as he follows her into the kitchen.

“Honestly? Whiskey sounds great.” He lifts his brow.

She nods and grabs it from the cabinet. He likes her kitchen. It’s not small like his. It’s nice and open. The last time he was in here, he made chocolate chip cookies with her and the girls. That was a lot of fun. He hasn’t had a bad time in this place. It’s a home. Safe. Loved.  She slides the glass over to him on the island.

“Have you eaten?” She’s in comforting mom mode now.

“Yeah.” He takes a sip. A wave of embarrassment rushes over him. “Look, you clearly were ready for a night in. I’m gonna—”

“Leave me in my silent house to watch Splash by myself?”

“Splash, huh?”

“That or Joe Versus the Volcano.”

“Got a hankerin’ for some vintage Tom Hanks,  huh?”

“Yep. You got it.”

“Mermaids or volcanoes?”

“Mermaid.”

Priyala puts the movie on and offers to make popcorn. He doesn’t refuse, but she eats more of it than he does. Their fingers bump a few times and he apologizes. After a while, his muscles relax and he enjoys Eugene Levy’s antics. He crosses his legs. They’re starting to feel cramped. The couch isn’t small. He’s just not used to sharing anymore.

“Do you wanna lie down?” She looks at him. Her observant mom eyes don’t miss a thing.

“What about you?” He furrows his brow.

“Hmm.” She gets up and grabs a pillow from one of the chairs. She places it on her lap. She does this when Diya refuses to admit she’s tired and won’t go up to bed just yet. “This work?”

“You sure?” His brown eyes travel from the pillow to hers.

“Mhmm.” She pats the pillow.

He places his head down gingerly almost like he’s worried she’ll shatter.

“Better?”

“Y-Yeah. Very comfy couch.”

“Good.” Her hand squeezes his shoulder.

Priyala clenches her hand to stop from stroking his hair. He does have great hair. It’s thick and looks soft, but that’d be weird. Maybe it’s just instinct. Yeah…instinct. He takes a deep breath and smells her perfume. Amber and something else—fresh and warm. It’s nice. Comforting.

Ted’s completely out before the movie ends. She can tell from his breathing he needed it. She doesn’t feel like she can ask what happened because she doesn’t want to pry, but at least he’s resting now. She touches his shoulder to wake him when he rolls over. She laughs. He’s not exactly child-sized where she can just lift his head. She really really has to use the bathroom though.

“Hey…” She shakes him gently.

He murmurs and she says his name. His eyes blink open.

“Hmm?”

“I gotta use the—uh—”

“Oh, sorry.” He sits up.

When she returns, he’s fast asleep on the pillow, so she grabs one of the blankets from the ottoman chest and drapes it over him. She hadn’t expected a sleepover, but she’d feel awful waking him. Besides, this is the most innocent sleepover she’s had since she was in high school.

In the morning, Ted isn’t exactly sure where he is. He looks around as his eyes adjust. The space is much larger and far more colorful than his apartment. Then he remembers. He’s at Priyala’s. He looks down at the beautiful silk throw draped over him. She must’ve done this after he fell asleep. He sighs. The panic attack. The appointment with Dr. Sharon. He doesn’t want to think about that.

He hears something in the kitchen. He spots Priyala in a teal robe with oversized black glasses on making coffee. She looks…great.

“Good morning.” She smiles.

“Mornin’. Sorry about the unplanned sleepover.”

“What are couches for? Want some coffee?”

“I’m not really…I only like it if it doesn’t taste like coffee.”

“Aha.” She opens the fridge. “Can I interest you in some creme brûlée creamer? I also have vanilla bean, cinnamon latte, and some random one I don’t remember.”

“Wow.”

“I don’t like my coffee to taste like coffee either. I prefer chai.”

“Oh, no tea at all for me. Not even your fun chai tea stuff.”

“Chai means tea.”

“What?”

“Chai means tea. So chai tea latte is just tea tea latte.”

“Well, knock my socks, Michael J. Fox!”

Priyala laughs. Ted’s back. “Proper masala chai has a lot more flavor than the English’s poor excuse for tea.”

“I’mma take a raincheck on that. Could I get the cinnamon latte creamer?”

“Absolutely. Sugar?”

“Yes. Two please.”

She hands to him and he takes it happily.

“Ooh, ain’t that delish.”

“If you’re hungry, I have cereal or oatmeal. I could make you an egg?”

“Don’t go to all that trouble. Cereal is fine.”

“And if you need a toothbrush, I always keep unopened ones upstairs. Read it in a book once and stole it. Classy, right?” She winks.

“My, my, if you’re not the hostess with the mostess. Classier than a dog in a tuxedo.”

She chuckles and grabs two kinds of cereal from the pantry. Ted points at one. She pours him some cereal and hands it to him. He’s not used to someone taking care of him like this. It makes him feel a little flushed.

“Thank you. You don’t have to go to all this trouble.” He rubs the back of his neck hoping it’ll make the tingling go away.

“Really, it’s okay.” She reaches forward. Her dark brown hand stretches over the top of his white one. He smiles weakly at her and nods. She looks over his hair which is all mussed from sleep. “I like this look. Now you don’t look like Floyd the Barber.”

Ted laughs tucking his chin against his chest.

“That’s a solid Andy Griffith reference.”

She smiles and shrugs her shoulders. Ted finishes his cereal and uses one of her unopened toothbrushes to brush his teeth before he’s ready to go.

“Thanks for all this. I really appreciate it.”

“You’re very welcome.”

They step forward at the same time and Ted chuckles. She lifts up on her tallest tiptoes and she puts her arms around his neck. He pulls her a little closer. She sighs. He rests his chin on top of her head and inhales the scent of her perfume. He smiles a little at the idea she put some on before coming downstairs. He tries to place it and doesn’t realize how long he’s been holding her.

His face feels hot and he pulls away hoping she didn’t notice. She just looks up at him with her dark brown eyes. He leans forward only slightly before he catches himself.

“I’ll talk to you later. Have a good Sunday.”

“You too, Ted.”

Back at his apartment, Ted pulls up the bantr app.

SirBakesaLot

Happy Sunday, Pencils.

ABouquet_of_Sharpened_Pencils

Happy Sunday, Sir Bakes. How was your work thing?

SirBakesaLot

Went well. Yours?

ABouquet_of_Sharpened_Pencils

Yeah. Fine.

SirBakesaLot

I’m in a bit of a pickle, Pencils. Might need your advice.

ABouquet_of_Sharpened_Pencils

Uh-oh. What’s up?

SirBakesaLot

I’m having not so friendly feelings towards a friend. I really wasn’t looking for that kind of thing, but it happened.

ABouquet_of_Sharpened_Pencils

Ooof. It’s weird, right? Having a crush on someone? Like we’re not kids.

SirBakesaLot

I sure do get the butterflies just like I’m a kid though. You’re not a stranger to this particular pickle, huh?

ABouquet_of_Sharpened_Pencils

Nope. Dealing with it myself.

SirBakesaLot

Any suggestions?

ABouquet_of_Sharpened_Pencils

You really like the friendship, right?

SirBakesaLot

Absolutely.

And are you sure your friend has the same feelings?

SirBakesaLot

I’m not sure. They’re a very kind person and it could be…just friendship.

ABouquet_of_Sharpened_Pencils

Would it make it awkward? If you brought it up?

SirBakesaLot

If I’m wrong? Most definitely.

ABouquet_of_Sharpened_Pencils

Can I take some time to think? I don’t wanna steer us in the wrong direction and our friends.

SirBakesaLot

Yeah. Seems best. You’re very smart, Pencils. Don’t want me to rush in. I respect it.

ABouquet_of_Sharpened_Pencils

Thanks. It’s hard to make friends. Gotta keep ‘em close. But in the meantime, if you need someone to talk to I’m here, Sir Bakes.

SirBakesaLot

Likewise, Pencils.

“Do you think I could get hot pink trainers?” Diya asks as they walk onto the pitch.

“Maybe for your birthday.” Priyala shakes her head. She waves at Ted who meets them.

“Show me the goods, Elle Woods.” Ted crouches down to her level.

She pulls out her maths test and proudly shows off her A.

“Well, look at that.” Ted smiles.

“So, can I?” Diya raises her eyebrows, expectantly.

Ted blows his whistle and the team gathers around him.

“I’m pleased to announce Miss Diya Kokoruda got an A on her test.”

Sam claps loudly and soon the other teammates join in. Diya beams at them, almost melting into the grass.

“I told her if she did that she could kick off the scrimmage and I’m a man of my word. Usual teams. Go get ‘em.”

Diya charges on the field and kicks the ball to Sam.

“You’re really making me Mom of the Year.” Priyala smiles.

“Oh, she deserves it. So do you.” Ted puts his hands in his pockets.

Roy yells pointers at Diya who swoops in and takes the ball from a distracted Jamie. She kicks it too far and it lands next to Jaya. She rolls her eyes, sighs heavily, and punts it across the field surprising everyone.

“Wow.” Ted whistles.

After all that running around, Diya grumbles about her legs no longer working. Ted swoops her up and puts her on his shoulders. She cheers. Jaya looks at her mother.  They leave the pitch and start walking to the Crown and Anchor where Beard will be joining them for dinner. Unbeknownst to any of them, some eagle-eyed photographers snap their walk. The next day, Ted spies a picture of them on some gentleman’s newspaper:

Has Miss Write Found Coach Right?

In the photo, Priyala’s laughing while holding Jaya’s hand and Diya is on Ted’s shoulders.  He shakes his head and walks on. Beard just lifts his brow.

“Terrible, terrible pun game. I don’t even think the New York Post would be that bad.” Priyala laughs when they reach the coffee shop. Ted chuckles and nods. Maybe Pencils was onto something about waiting things out.

[marcspectorsbooty]

Just A Taste

(Steven Grant x f!Reader)

Smut

TW: dom!Steven, sub!Reader, mentions of dom/sub relationships with Marc and Jake too, bondage, blindfolding, established safeword

Description: Steven is bothered that Marc and Jake get to have all the fun domming you, so he decides to see what it's like with you.

A/N: here you go @johnny-simpfinger!! Enjoy your dom!Steven fic :))

18+ READERS ONLY, MINORS DNI

Steven had seemed off. He had been fronting for most of the day and the entire time he didn’t seem like himself. When you would catch a glance at him, he would look deep and thought, almost as if something was weighing on him. 

You were taking it easy that day after a particularly long night with Jake that left you sore all over. There were bruises and hickeys around your neck and thighs just from how rough he was, but that was typical for Jake and you loved it. Steven always seemed a bit worried that Jake and Marc were a bit rough with you in the bedroom, but that wasn’t the case this time around.

You and Steven sat on the couch, reading your books in silence. Steven’s eyes occasionally wandered from the page over to you, always making sure to avert his gaze before you could notice. But you did notice. Something was wrong, you knew it.

“What’s wrong, Steven?” You asked while putting a bookmark on the page you were on.

“Hmm?” Steven hummed, not breaking his focus from his book.

“You’ve been acting weird all day. What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

Steven looked up at you shyly, placing his book down on the coffee table with a sigh. “It’s nothing, love.”

“It doesn’t seem like nothing.” You moved closer to him, taking his hand in yours and rubbing circles into his skin. “What’s on your mind?”

“Promise you won’t judge?” 

“Of course not.”

Steven let out another heavy sigh and stared down at his lap. “I see the way they are with you and I… I just wish I could do the same.”

“What do you mean?” You furrowed your brow in confusion.

“Marc and Jake… I’ve seen the way they, ya know, pleasure you. I want to do the same, I just… don’t really know how.”

“Oh,” It clicked in your head. “Why didn’t you tell me, Steven?”

“I dunno, I just felt like you don’t really see me as… dominant.” Steven’s cheeks turned pink as he looked up at you.

“How long have you been thinking about this?” 

“A little while now, I guess. Kinda stupid, innit.” 

“It’s not stupid at all and if it’s something you want to try, I’m more than happy to help you get a taste of it.” You smiled and slid into his lap. “First, we need to come up with a safeword. It’s gotta be something that won’t come up in usual conversation, like a fruit that you absolutely despise or a place that you’ve never been. And if either of us says the word while we’re doing the deed, we both stop what we’re doing.”

“Oh, guess I hadn’t thought that far into it.” Steven admitted and began to think. “What do Marc and Jake use?”

“Well, Marc and I use the word ‘Peaches’ since we both hate peaches. Jake… Jake’s a little more intense so we use the stoplight system with a few others tacked on. Yellow for slow down, red for stop and go into immediate aftercare, and then blue for medical emergencies, just in case anything happens. But I think that we should come up with something just for me and you, something original.”

“Hmmm… What about ‘Celery’. Never really cared for it much really.” Steven chimed. 

“‘Celery’ it is then.” You smiled. “And even if you feel uncomfortable and want things to stop, you can use the safeword, okay?”

“Alright.” 

You leaned down to kiss Steven’s lips softly and he wrapped his arms around you, drawing you in closer. It wasn’t long before his kisses got more greedy and his hands were traveling down to give your ass a nice squeeze. He admired your features and when he got needy, he couldn’t help but touch you. You could already feel his erection brushing up against you, just aching for your touch. 

You pulled away from his lips breathlessly, standing up and grabbing at his hand. “Bedroom?”

Steven nodded as you tugged him along, rushing over to the bed just so you could kiss him again. You began to pull at the hem of his shirt, helping him take it off as you fell onto the bed with him hovering over you. The two of you shuffled around, trying to get your clothes off as quickly as possible between sloppy kisses.

You were helping Steven with his belt when he suddenly looked over to the mirror. He was clearly having a conversation with Marc and Jake, so you watched him in curiosity. Finally, when he came back to reality, he just smiled down at you. 

“Everything alright?” You asked.

“Yeah.” He grinned, the ideas formulating in his head. “Let’s get you out of these.”

Steven helped you out of everything except for your panties, leaving the best for last. By then he was only in his boxers, his erection clearly poking out. He leaned down to kiss you once again, his hands roaming your curves and grazing all over you.

His lips made their way down to your neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin, marking you up as much as possible. You were his just as much as you were Marc and Jake’s and he wanted everyone to know that by the marks he left on you. He began to trail further down your body, pausing to give your breasts some attention. One of his hands played with one breast while his mouth worked on the other. 

“Steven.” You muttered breathlessly. 

He hummed in response, his tongue swirling around your nipple and then nipping at the bud with his teeth. Your small little moans only made him want to pleasure you more and fuck, he was good with his mouth. His head started to go lower, leaving kisses on your stomach until he finally settled between your thighs, nipping at each one. But he didn’t go any further, which was driving you wild.

“Steven, please.” You begged, craving his talented mouth on your center.

“What is it that you want, my love? Hmm?” He asked, his voice dripping with lust and darkness. He planted a kiss on your inner thigh before looking up at you. “Use your words.”

“Can I please have your mouth? Please?” You muttered, your stomach bubbling as you felt his hot breath between your legs. 

“Gonna have to beg better than that to get what you want, dear.” He hummed and went back to kissing your thighs.

“Please, Steven. Please can I…” You paused as he kissed your clothed folds. “Can I please have your tongue on my pussy?”

“Mmm, of course you can.” 

He quickly slid your panties off of you and went to work, licking up your folds before swirling his tongue around your clit. You were quickly reminded about how skillful he was with his mouth as he licked and sucked on your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hand quickly gripped his hair, guiding his head to all the right places. 

Steven’s hands gripped your thighs to hold you in place as he continued to pleasure you. Fuck, this man was going to be the death of you. You could already feel the tension building up in your stomach just waiting to boil over. 

Your grip on his hair got tighter as you bucked into him. The sensation was so overwhelming for you and he could tell, but he didn’t stop for a second. He couldn’t help but slip a finger into you, pumping it in and out slowly as his tongue sucked on your clit. 

“So good for me.” Steven hummed. “Good girl.”

Those words struck a familiar chord within you. It was the first time hearing it from Steven, which made sparks ignite in your belly even more. You were his good girl. His only good girl. 

“Fuck, Steven, I need to cum.” You breathed out. “Please can I cum?”

His finger curled inside of you as he hummed against your center. “Cum for me, love.” 

You bucked into him again, letting everything go and falling into euphoria. He let you ride the waves of pleasure while still working his tongue and finger. When you started to come down from it all, his finger and mouth left you to kiss up your body, ending at your lips. You kissed him back, all blissed out and happy.

“My good girl.” Steven whispered. “Think you could cum for me again?” 

You nodded with a smile and he leaned down to kiss you again. He paused for a moment, looking over to the mirror again to listen to the other two and sitting up. Steven looked back at you for just a moment and then slid off of the bed, maneuvering over to the closet.

“If you’re looking for Jake’s box, it’s to the right.” You chuckled. “It’s the black one. The big one.”

Steven rummaged through the box of wonders for a moment, likely trying to decide on something that wouldn’t be too overwhelming for the both of you. He glanced back at you quickly and then back down at the box. 

“Close your eyes for a minute.” He ordered.

You obliged, shutting your eyes and resting your head on the pillow. You waited for a minute, listening to him go through the box and pick a few things out. It wasn’t long before you felt him climbing on the bed again. 

“I’m gonna blindfold you, love.” Steven said.

You tilted your head up so he could slip it on easily. He hummed in appreciation and adjusted it, making sure you weren't able to see. It was only time before he was lifting your wrists and handcuffing you to the bed. Tonight Steven was in full control and it was very clear.

“Mmm, you’re so pretty like this. All restrained for me.” Steven hummed and let his hand slide down your body. “Guess it’s my turn to have some fun, innit?”

Steven’s hot breath was fanning over your neck just enough so you knew where he was. You craved his touch so much and yet you didn’t have it or know when you would have it. He nipped at your neck while his finger slid up your folds. 

“Always so wet for me, darling.” He chuckled. “I bet you I could slide right in without a problem, just like… this.”

You felt one of his fingers slip right into you and curl. Chills of pleasure ran up your body and you gasped. He slowly worked your walls, making sure to hit all of those sweet spots on the way.

“So good for me.” Steven whispered. “I bet you could cum all night long on my fingers, but I think you’d like to cum on somethin’ else, wouldn’t you?”

You nodded quickly and bit your lip. The thoughts were moving so quickly in your brain that you completely forgot to respond.

“Do you want my cock inside you, darling?” He asked against your ear.

“Yes, please.” You muttered.

“Tell me how badly you want it.”

Oh, fuck.

“Please, Steven.” You whined. “Please I need it so bad.”

“Mmm, you can do better than that. Come on, love, beg.”

“Please, can I please have your cock in me Steven? Please, I need it so bad. It’s all I want. Please.”

“Mmmm, much better.”

His finger left you only to be replaced with something much bigger and longer. You hissed and adjusted to his length, loving how easily he filled you up. Steven grunted and began to thrust slowly, his hot breath fanning over your face. 

“Oh, fuck.” He moaned. “That’s good, good girl. Taking me so fucking easily.”

You tugged at your restraints, wanting just to reach out and touch him as he fucked you slowly. Part of you wanted to see him dominating you, but the other part of you loved the sensations that came without being able to see him. Either way, he made you feel so good. 

“Steven, fuck, right there.” You moaned. 

You felt his hand gently wrap around your throat as he began to thrust into you harder and faster. Your body tingled with pleasure and you could feel the familiar tension bubbling in your stomach again.

“All mine.” Steven growled. “All fucking mine.”

“Steven, fuck,” You mumbled, so overwhelmed with the feelings inside of you.

You could feel his thrusts starting to become more sloppy as he breathed heavier. You could almost feel how close he was just by the way he felt inside of you. There was no denying it, you wanted his seed inside of you. 

“Oh gods, I’m gonna cum.” Steven moaned out. “Cum with me, love. Please, fuck.”

The tension in your stomach boiled over and you tensed, causing him to release right inside of you. You both rode the waves of your orgasms, bucking into one another to make the feeling last. Steven kissed your lips, humming as he began to come down. You felt him pull out of you and flop on the bed next to you.

“Steven?” You called out.

“Yeah?” He asked breathlessly, then realized. “Oh, shit, sorry.”

He quickly uncuffed you and removed your blindfold, making sure to kiss you sweetly before laying back down. You moved over to rest your head on his chest and cuddle him. Steven played with your hair and kissed your forehead, grinning widely.

“Thank you for that, love.” He sighed happily. 

“How was it? Did you like having a taste of being a dom?” You smiled up at him.

“Oh yeah, I liked it. I’d like to do that more often if that’s okay with you.” 

“I’d love to.” You hummed. “We’re going to have to get you your own toy box though. Jake might stab us both if he finds out that you went through his special box.”

[belphies-cuhm-sluht]

hello amazing talented writer!!!! i believe ur requests are open right now (if they aren't pls ignore this) !! i was wondering if you could do head cannons for the obey me brothers with an mc who really wanted to show them how much they loved them, so they give them the biggest bear hug possible and keep telling them how much they appreciate them? idk if there is a character limit, so of you want to include the dateables that would be marvelous! thank you for having such an amazing blog and working so hard 💖😌

Brothers with a Lovebug GN!MC (Headcanons)

A/N : This was so cute! So cute! I loved writing it! All the brothers deserve love and appreciation. Thank you so much for requesting it and thank you thank you thank you for your kind words, I appreciate them and I appreciate you <3

Lucifer

He wasn’t completely touch starved, well.. Not anymore since he met you, but hugs still kind of threw him off sometimes. He just wasn’t used to it, no matter how many times you hugged him, although he did love the feelings.

When you came up to him and hugged him this time, it was different than most of the other hugs, it was tight and warm, and it was almost as if he could feel all of your love for him pouring out in this one single hug and… well… he loved it. He loved the feeling of it. It made him feel warm, it was… strange but endearing. But then you started telling him how much you appreciate him, and while he already was aware that you did (that’s just him being prideful though), he loved hearing it from your lips. It was enough to actually make him smile, and he was so wrapped up in the warmth that your words and his touch made him feel that he almost forgot to hug you back… almost.

His arms snaked around you, holding you closer against him. He didn’t want to lose the warm feeling that you gave him, he didn’t want to let you go.

“Thank you, dear. Please, don’t hesitate to… do this more often.”

Mammon

If there was anyone who deserved this, it was him. He’s so under appreciated in the house, he’s always getting picked on, the guy can never seem to catch a break. The only time he actually feels like he’s noticed for the good things that he does is when he’s with you, hence why he’s always following you around and trying to be as close to you as possible. He just really needs it.

The bear hug was, needless to say, very unexpected for him. Sure, he’s used to being hugged by you, and yes, he loves being hugged by you… But this hug was amazing to him. It was tight, and it wasn’t just any regular hug, it was like you were holding onto him, and this may have just become his preferred method of hugs. These kinds of hugs are by far the best hugs to get. He almost couldn’t focus on what you were saying until he realized that you were telling him that you appreciate him… and… wow. That was the only thing he could think when he heard you, and it didn’t seem like you were anywhere close to being done.

He held you tighter, resting his head on top of yours, and yes, he did start crying although he’s going to deny that he is… just don’t bring it up.

“That’s really sweet of ya, babe… And I ain’t cryin’... yer hair jus’ got in my eye… tell me more?”

Leviathan

He is very touch starved, and although people around the house appreciate him, he’s always down on himself anyway. He’s always down on himself, and even when you are there to tell him why you love him, his thoughts are just very pessimistic. He needs this just as much as Mammon does.

The sound he made when you first wrapped your arms around him was a mix between a scream and a squeal. He definitely wasn’t expecting it, but he wasn’t against it either. He didn’t know that he needed it until it was already happening, but he really appreciates the hug. When you started telling him that you appreciate him and how much you appreciate him, his face turned the brightest shade of red. It was strange to him because he didn’t really know that he did that much for you to even appreciate, but he really liked hearing you say it. At least he knows that he’s doing something right and that he’s making you happy.

He’s so happy, it’s off the charts, and he doesn’t want the hug to end, ever. It’s the best feeling in the world to be appreciated.

“I-I’m… Thank you… Y-You’re the best… Really… I-I appreciate you too…”

Satan

Being loved and appreciated never seemed important to him before. These were things he could live without, he was thriving off of being hateful and unappreciative towards Lucifer. Deep down though, even if he didn’t ever want to admit it, acknowledge it, or even know about it… He needed these things.

He heard you coming. Let’s be fair, this man memorized the sounds of footsteps of everyone in the house so he can act accordingly based on whoever was even coming close to his room. He was ready for you to come in, the smile already on his face, his book already set down to welcome you with open arms. What he wasn’t ready for was the bear hug that you rushed in to give him. He was not ready at all, but damn if he didn’t love it. He loved hearing your words of appreciation too, and he was going to memorize every single thing that you said, just so he could think about it later.

He really did need this, as someone who mainly only ever feels wrath, hatred, annoyance… You’re the only thing that really brings him pure happiness.

“You’re making me soft, kitten… Not that I mind it. I’ve got all the time in the world to keep doing this.”

Asmodeus

The complete opposite of Satan, love and appreciation are so very important to him. But, he receives these things all the time from strangers, and sometimes, well, most times, it never feels genuine. These things have lost almost all of their meanings to him, it almost seemed pointless because of how repetitive it’s become.

There was something different receiving love and appreciation from you though. It was real, there was emotion behind it, something that could never be picked up or trusted over the internet through random comments. Of course he loved the hug, the tighter, the closer the better. He wasn’t actually… used to getting hugs like that. It felt special to him, and when the words of appreciation came, he felt special. Being loved by the entire Devildom will never feel as good as being loved by you. You made him feel like more than just his avatar, and that means so much more to him than looks or likes.

Yes he cried, and no he didn’t try to hide it. He wasn’t ashamed of his emotions, and he wanted you to know that what you said made him feel good enough that he actually cried.

“Oh… You’re… I’m gonna mess up my face but… It’s okay. You’re so sweet, I could just kiss you, darling.”

Beelzebub

He knows what love is, because he loves you and he loves all of his brothers. He knows what appreciation is because he appreciates you, and appreciates everything that his brothers do for him. He’s pretty sure that his brothers love and appreciate him back, and he knows without a doubt that you love and appreciate him… especially after the hug.

The hug, which was nice, and really cute to him. He was always the one giving you the bear hugs, so to be on the receiving end felt really nice. It’s not something that he’s used to, but his eyes, his entire face even, it lit up. Being told that he’s appreciated though, it’s way different from just feeling appreciated. Those words meant so much to him, he probably won’t be able to stop smiling about it for weeks. He’ll probably tell all of his brothers about it too, well, not even probably, he’s definitely going to tell all of his brothers about it. This is a really big thing to him.

He’s just so happy, beyond happy, ecstatic even. He loves and appreciates you so much, and feeling that same amount of love and appreciation returned, it’s amazing, it feels like he just won a football game.

“I’m happy you feel the same way, honey… You’re really special to me… I love you.”

Belphegor

He puts on a big front that he doesn’t care if anyone loves him or appreciates him, but he just doesn’t want to be seen as weak, and feelings to him are a sign of vulnerability. Plus, those feelings just make attachments stronger and if something bad were to happen, it’ll be harder for him to move on and get over it.

Hugs were weird enough to him, so bear hugs weren’t any less weird, it caught him off guard. He just stood there for a second before finally relaxing in your arms. He loved you, and while he didn’t say it as much as he probably should, he realized that sometimes words weren’t needed to get that feeling across. He could feel all of your love through that hug, and it made him feel… good. When you started telling him you appreciate him… and just how much you appreciate him… that was shocking. He didn’t know what you could possibly be appreciative of considering everything that’s happened and how he was towards you. He’s always felt like a fuck up, like everything bad that’s ever happened was his fault, so to hear that he’s appreciated was strange, he almost couldn’t wrap his head around it.

He wasn’t going to cry, not in front of you, but he definitely felt like he was about to. He’s gotta make an excuse to get you out of the room long enough to get the sniffles out without you noticing.

“You’re such a dork… Go get your pillows and blankets from your room. I want to cuddle with you.”

[hunxi-after-hours]

Hunxi congrats with the progress on the QianQiu subs translation!!! 🥳 (I'm so excited!)

I also saw you read svsss, oh my! I loved your LBH meta! Can you also do one on SY!SQQ please? Would love to have your thoughts on this chaotic unreliable narrator! And also maybe the Bingqiu relationship from Shen Yuan's side?

ty, I'm so close to finishing the 《山河剑心》 subs that I can TASTE IT--

so I've been sitting on this ask for who knows how long because I’ve been trying to track down a single coherent thought about Shen Yuan!Shen Qingqiu in my brain and every time I think I've got a handle on his character I uncover something else, slippery bastard that he is (affectionate)

I'm still not sure I've got a handle on his character but this ask isn't going to write itself no matter how hopefully I stare at it, so here goes

some housekeeping! the first is that in this post, all iterations of "Shen Qingqiu" refer to Shen Yuan!Shen Qingqiu unless explicitly noted otherwise

the second is that I think that there's a distinct possibility that I am Overthinking Simple Things Again, especially because I firmly believe authors should be allowed to not think through Every Single Exhaustive Detail of Their Narrative, so like, it's very possible I'm reading far more into Shen Yuan/Shen Qingqiu's character than I should be, maybe he really is just as simple as a webnovel fan who gets transmigrated into his favorite love-to-hate textual disaster

but I gotta live up to my blog header (心怀杂念，字数无量), so buckle up, I guess we’re doing this

when scraping together the remnants of sentient thought in my brain for this ask, I tried to start with basic premises about Shen Qingqiu that I thought I could rely on. so, premise: Shen Qingqiu is an ordinary dude who gets transmigrated into a shitty webnovel and tries his best to survive

except he isn't, right? first of all, it's not just any webnovel -- it's a 600+ chapter disaster of a work that nevertheless has legions of rabid fans, that suckered him into caring about it somehow, that once perhaps held some potential for becoming Something Great but whose author summarily sold out for the hit count and the money. second of all, Shen Yuan isn’t just any reader, is he? he's PIDW's greatest anti-fan, bitterly dedicated to reading every single amateurish word while writing essays about how bad each new development is (never forget that Shen Yuan was so loud about this that Shang Qinghua, the literal author, recognized Shen Yuan’s web ID amidst thousands of comments). He's someone who continued reading this book for the plot when several hundred chapters ago it devolved into gratuitous PWP

so, not quite your average reader then. he’s also gifted with an exceptional memory (of the monster catalog, and what little plot there is), more investment in the characters than he'd like to admit (again -- he read all 600+ chapters for the plot), and genre/narrative savviness (he knows how these stories go, and more particularly how this story goes, and can therefore manipulate aspects of worldbuilding to his advantage)

and the more I thought about this, the more I couldn’t square the words “ordinary” and “Shen Yuan/Shen Qingqiu” in my head, because despite what his narration would imply (the only premise I honestly feel confident in truly declaring is that Shen Qingqiu is a comically unreliable narrator), he’s really quite exceptional in many ways

I touched on it briefly in this post, but again and again, what stands out to me about Shen Qingqiu is that, well -- he’s a decent person

I’m not sure ‘kind’ is the right word, or ‘compassionate,’ or ‘loyal,’ or ‘self-sacrificing,’ because it honestly feels a little silly to throw such Big, Dramatic Words at the insane roller coaster ride of SVSSS, a text which actively satirizes the romanticization of such virtues, but at the same time, all of those words can be used to describe Shen Qingqiu. He’d probably 疯狂吐槽 laugh at me for it, but I defy anyone to explain the entire 圣陵 uhh... demonic mausoleum? arc to me without using those words

and when it comes down to it, Shen Yuan/Shen Qingqiu is, well... decent. He’s not a grand, larger-than-life, self-sacrificing hero the way, say, Xie Lian is, but he also has a bottom line where he will put his foot down, so help him System, and we see him go to great lengths to do what he believes is right -- hell, not even the right thing, just the basic, decent, human thing to do

again (gesticulates wildly) the entire Demon Mausoleum arc; it’s particularly telling that chapter 60 ends with the line: “不过，还好，总算这次没坑了洛冰河。” / “Though, it was fine -- at least this time, he hadn’t screwed over Luo Binghe.” What’s fine? Oh, that’s right--the fact that he’s been severely injured and infected by yet another a crippling, parasitic magical plot device in defense of Luo Binghe. Shen Qingqiu just does this repeatedly throughout the narrative, downplays some truly incredible moments of selflessness/self-sacrifice with his unending internal sass, recasts any genuine emotion he might be having as frustrated exasperation at a terribly-written plot/badly-built world. but like. are we gonna talk about the fact that Shen Qingqiu is casually tortured multiple times throughout this webnovel or like--

again, the Demon Mausoleum arc is the gift that just keeps giving, here:

沈清秋自认倒霉，却不想别人也跟着倒霉，他一手捂着心口，勉力保持脸上表情不变：“阁下想怎么折腾我，请随意。如你所说，喝了这么多次，也该习惯了。可你若是要洛冰河的肉身，想都别想。”

Shen Qingqiu was resigned to his shit luck, but that didn’t mean he wanted other people to also suffer his shitty luck. He pressed one hand to his heart and barely managed to maintain the expression on his face: “Whatever torture you’d like to inflict on me, please feel free. Like you said, after drinking so much [demon blood], I should be used to it now. But don’t even think about taking Luo Binghe’s body.”

沈清秋生平最恨那种被作为要挟筹码的角色，想让他扮这种拖后腿的角色，还不如叫他去死。

Shen Qingqiu hated those characters who were held hostage the most; he’d rather die than play such a role.

(chapter 62)

sure, we have some characteristic Shen Qingqiu snarky genre commentary at the bottom there, but let’s not overlook the fact that Shen Qingqiu said to Tianlang-jun, the greatest archvillain that was never realized in the original PIDW (except that the real villain was the evil demonic sword we carried with us all along), do what you like to me, but don’t even think about touching Luo Binghe

and Shen Qingqiu is constantly doing this in his narration: he’ll do something that’s quite, y’know, good of him, and then immediately play it off as selfishness or survival. He’s being nice to Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge, Shen Qingqiu insists, not because he genuinely cares for them or whatever, but for his “future survival.” He then proceeds to be so nice to both of them that they both fall in love with him, and look, it may have happened off-screen but my dude, you’ve definitely gone above and beyond the call of duty/survival at that point

the narrative unequivocally rewards Shen Qingqiu for his kindness decency -- we joke that Shen Qingqiu transmigrated into a harem novel only to accidentally end up with a harem of his own, but he really did secure the loyalties of half a dozen characters simply by being, well, a decent guy. He saves doesn’t kill Liu Qingge and befriends him pretty much as an afterthought. As a result, Liu Qingge is ride or die for him for the rest of the book. Shen Qingqiu saves doesn’t kill Zhuzhi-lang, who eventually betrays Tianlang-jun for him. Shen Qingqiu is, uh... a reasonable authority figure in the vicinity of Gongyi Xiao, who then proceeds to betray his sect and break Shen Qingqiu out of prison. The Qingjing Peak disciples adore Shen Qingqiu (I’m not even counting the one that, y’know, really fucking adores him), and would gladly throw hands to defend his reputation. I’ll grant you that Yue Qingyuan’s loyalty to Shen Qingqiu was grandfathered in, but like. if you look at the narrative and the relationships that develop in it, Shen Qingqiu is basically a walking vortex of cordial acquaintanceship who suckers in anyone within a certain radius

is Shen Qingqiu nice? he’d deny it to hell and back, but he’s generally a decent guy and that makes him the hottest fucking ticket in this insane, insane webnovel

I think I’ve lost the thread of the plot here (me and Shen Qingqiu both, tbh) but you asked about bingqiu, so! (rolls up sleeves) let’s talk about bingqiu, I guess

the bingqiu relationship from Shen Qingqiu’s side, in one word, is this: indulgence. Shen Qingqiu begins in a caregiving position for Luo Binghe, and nurtures him, supports him, teaches him, shapes him. Shen Qingqiu also praises him, smiles at him, indulges him. Shen Qingqiu is constantly letting Luo Binghe do things -- cook for him, take care of responsibilities for him, pitch into his arms repeatedly -- such that, well, not to be like “Luo Binghe fell in love with Shen Qingqiu for his kindness,” but highkey, Luo Binghe wholeheartedly adores his shizun because here, for once, is someone who did not abandon him, who believes in him, who chose him over others

meanwhile, Shen Qingqiu is completely oblivious to his effect on Luo Binghe for a staggering amount of the novel, which plays right into Shen Qingqiu’s character arc over the course of SVSSS: simply put, taking responsibility for his own actions

trust me for a bit, I’m going to go on a bit of a tangent to explain how I got there but we’ll make it back, I promise:

we are given deliberately little of Shen Yuan's IRL backstory -- it’s kind of skimmed over with a quick “oh yes, he came from a rich family and didn’t do much with his life, don’t think too hard about it” -- but regardless of what inferences we might want to make about his family life or childhood, the one thing continues to strike me as absolutely key to understanding both Shen Yuan and Shen Yuan-as-Shen Qingqiu is this: in his previous life, Shen Yuan feels preeminently disposable

yes, we’re told that Shen Qingqiu has an almost supernatural capability for dealing with the new and insane shit the plot throws at him, but even with that, I can’t let go of the fact that Shen Qingqiu barely mourns his old life at all

to be fair, for Shen Qingqiu to moan and whine and angst about his own death and the family and friends he’s left behind would be, well, rather tedious and bothersome when all we, as readers, care for is the excitement of exploring a new world and the advancement of the plot, but even then, even making allowances for expectations of genre and reader preference, I think Shen Yuan’s lack of a vibrant life with emotional connections in his prior existence is both notable and significant

the phrase that he repeats, over and over, is that all he ever thought he would do is 混吃等死 to waste time, to eat, to wait for death. Shen Yuan is nobody, not someone with great ambitions or dreams, nor someone who will make waves or change the world. he’s the forgettable middle child of a vaguely rich family somewhere, and if he vanished off the face of the earth, it would not be worth a tragedy -- just a peculiar, tragicomic kind of embarrassment, an odd kind of ruefulness but no true sorrow

and so Shen Yuan carries this mindset of his own disposability, his own helplessness in the face of plot or fate or destiny or the protagonist halo, forward into Shen Qingqiu’s life. this is why it takes him so long to realize that the plot of PIDW has changed on him; even after he’s knocked the narrative off its axis by saving Liu Qingge, by being kind to Luo Binghe, by literally dying, Shen Qingqiu doesn’t quite believe that he’s actually effected change. he’s constantly reading the original novel’s end into his current present; he’s constantly superimposing the original Luo Binghe over the one standing before him

we see this also in his profoundly unreliable narration -- he constantly describes Yue Qingyuan and Liu Qingge as reliable bastions, as nothing more than NPCs, merely tools he intends to use for his own survival, but his own dreamscape betrays him. in chapter 41, we see that his nightmares are haunted by images of Liu Qingge’s death by qi deviation, Yue Qingyuan’s death by ten thousand arrows. “I don’t actually care about them,” Shen Qingqiu insists in his narration, while actually caring very deeply

(“I’m incredibly selfish and just out here to save my own skin,” Shen Qingqiu protests, while turning himself over to Luo Binghe in exchange for Cang Qiong’s safety)

and so, Shen Yuan’s character arc is this: coming to own the fact that 1) he does actually care, which means that 2) his actions are more than game mechanisms conducted at arms length with no real stakes, but real actions with real consequences on real people

and this, metatextually, reflects the journey of his relationship with PIDW as a whole (going from “what are you talking about, I hate this fucking novel” to “fine. FINE. I didn’t say it was good, I said I like it okay?!”) as well as the arc of his relationship with Shen Qingqiu, the body he wears, the identity he steals by accident and eventually grows into. by coming to accept his role as Shen Qingqiu, and therefore his place in this not-quite-PIDW-anymore canon, Shen Yuan is finally accepting the fact that this is now his life

and who is he in his life? indisposable

perhaps, for the first time, his actions effect change; the words he casually throws out are remembered, internalized, recited back at him years later. Shen Qingqiu is absolutely critical to the plot and to the development of the characters around him, and it takes him a while to realize this and come to terms with the fact that his actions have consequences, his words have effects, and that he has, for better or worse, had a direct hand into shaping Luo Binghe into who he is now today

this isn’t to say that it’s Shen Qingqiu’s fault that Luo Binghe is like this -- let’s not remove a character’s agency in developing themselves or an individual’s responsibility to be a decent person -- but Shen Qingqiu has helped make Luo Binghe who he is today, and the emotional turn of the novel occurs when he begins to accept that and take responsibility for it

so perhaps what I’m trying to say isn’t so much “Shen Qingqiu learns to take responsibility for his actions” as “Shen Yuan as Shen Qingqiu learns to take ownership over his life, his agency, his actions, and his effects on the world and the people around him,” which is how we get back to Luo Binghe

and the last thing I want to say about the bingqiu relationship in this post that apparently will not end is this: the book ends at their beginning. I mean this literally, in that the last chapter of this webnovel is titled “The Story’s Beginning” so like. it’s right there y’all

which is to say, all of bingqiu’s relationship development and negotiation, all of the messy tangled threads of resentment and forgiveness, all of the awkward tears and arguments and apologies and exploration happens after the book ends

bingqiu is not perfect. bingqiu is fraught as hell. bingqiu is a flaming clown car careening off the edge of an upside-down mountain peak that is being forcefully yoinked into this plane of existence as part of a hare-brained scheme to smash two realms together. bingqiu is composed of a vastly overpowered and deeply insecure former protagonist who has the ability to destroy entire worlds and a compulsive webnovel reader transmigrated into the questionably immortal body of his lover’s former abuser who snarks on reflex as a coping mechanism. all of which is to say--

it’s gonna take a hot second for these two disasters to work through things, okay

tl;dr Shen Qingqiu, you slippery bastard (affectionate), I hope you live happily ever after with the extremely clingy consequences of your actions

[fandomlit]

neutral, chap. 4 (dream smp x reader)

series summary (in game!au) when an exiled tommy finally rebels against a manipulative dream, he finds safety in neutral territory, a place owned and guarded by you. staying in your safe haven opens up the younger one’s eyes to your way of life, while also revealing your deeper past before neutral; a past that involved a war for your love.

chapter summary after waking from a taunting nightmare, tommy expels some late night energy on some wandering mobs. you give him another lesson about taking care of himself, even when working hard, and tommy asks if you’ll teach him archery, which, of course, doesn’t go without entertainment.

warnings nightmares, mob killing

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gif cred belongs to @halcyoncraft

he was running again. he didn’t know where or from what, but his legs carried him far and strongly, weaving him through trees and grass and other obstacles along the way. he didn’t know how in danger he was, but he wasn’t going to stop and find out.

then he tripped.

when he flipped onto his back, it was that goddamn mask staring down at him, the lips just under it laughing, “you’re so weak, tommy! did you do anything while you were in neutral?” then his axe came down and tommy braced himself for the pain and release of death.

he woke up instead.

sweating under his covers, tommy sucked in a harsh breath as he sat up. he threw the soft cotton off of him, running a warm hand down his face. it was just a dream; he was safe in neutral.

looking out of the window next to him, he saw the moon still high in the sky, casting a cool light into his bedroom. dream’s words rang through his head like a bell, and he rubbed at his temples with a sigh. was he actually getting weak? was relaxing such a bad thing? at the very least, some part of him must have thought so to conjure a nightmare like that..

with another sigh, tommy lifted himself out of bed and flipped open the ender chest. he drew out his sword before heading to the main floor of the house.

when he reached the bottom of the stairs, a voice called out to him, “tommy?” his heart nearly stopped for a moment, before peeking into the kitchen and realizing it was just y/n. she sat in candlelight, writing in a small journal with a slice of half-eaten pumpkin pie next to her. “are you alright?”

“yeah,” he breathed, his voice still heavy with sleep. “just gonna go kill some mobs.”

she nodded. she looked tired, and a part of tommy felt bad knowing that she was most definitely going to wait for him to return. “okay. have at it, kid.”

he nodded, turning to leave the kitchen. before he did so, he pursed his lips and looked over his shoulder to y/n. “you should go to bed.”

she gave him a smile, scribbling something down in the small journal. “i will, tommy. just gotta finish this up..” his natural curiosity was drawn to the small book, and he almost asked y/n what she was writing. but then dream’s voice rang through his mind again, and tommy silently headed for the doors of the house.

the night air was refreshing on his warm skin, cool and still as the moon illuminated the frontal beauty of neutral territory. he took a deep, calming breath of that crisp air before focusing on the task at hand: proving to himself that dream was wrong. that dream is always wrong.

after about twenty zombies, ten spiders, countless creepers, and a few endermen, tommy finally felt the burn in his arms become nearly too much to bear. he panted as he struck down one last spider, turning and finally deciding to return back to the comfort of y/n’s home.

he sheathed his sword when he finally entered the house, going straight to the kitchen to see that y/n was still awake and writing in her small journal.

“ready to go to bed?” he asked gruffly.

she looked up slowly before nodding, placing her quill down and capping her ink. “any trouble out there?”

“no,” he spoke, shaking his head. “wrote everything you needed to?” y/n blew out her candle and went to join the boy in the doorway to the kitchen.

“as much as i could, anyway,” she shrugged, smiling lazily as they began to walk toward the stairs. “what was your nightmare about?”

tommy was slightly startled, but a little too tired to react drastically to y/n’s deduction. “how’d you know i had a nightmare?”

“i’ve had them before,” she said simply. “and it seemed natural that you’d expel some energy onto mobs after such a thing.”

“you’re smart,” tommy credited.

“thank you,” y/n yawned.

they continued to climb the stairs in silence as tommy considered his words. “i was being hunted by dream again, but this time you weren’t there to save me. he called me weak and killed me.”

“so you wanted to prove to yourself that despite allowing yourself peace, you didn’t have to sacrifice your strength to get there,” y/n summed.

the boy half-smiled. she was spot on, as always. “exactly,” tommy breathed. 

y/n was silent for a moment as she thought. they stopped at the hallway to tommy’s room and it then occurred to tommy’s tired mind that her room was downstairs; she was walking with him because she cared about him. 

“honestly, tommy, if this is a real concern for you, then there is no harm in taking time out of your day to work out and train,” y/n spoke. “but the most important thing is to recognize when enough is enough, and when enough becomes too much. you’ve allowed yourself peace and care for the last two weeks, and achieving such a state doesn’t mean you have to sacrifice fighting or training; it just means that you need to be more aware and in tune with yourself as you’re doing it.” tommy nodded.

“don’t overwork yourself, is the summary here,” she said, picking a cobweb off of his shirt. “let yourself do the things you want, but make sure it’s not wearing you down. that’s taking care of yourself.”

“alright,” tommy spoke quietly. “thank you, y/n.”

“of course, kid,” she smiled. “get some sleep, alright? if you have another nightmare you’re free to bother me.” tommy nodded again. “good night, tommy.”

“good night, y/n,” he yawned as she turned to head down to her room. he made sure he heard her door shut before finally heading to his own room.

...

“can you teach me archery?” tommy questioned the next morning at breakfast. it was a question that had bugged him since y/n had first revealed her skills just a few days prior, and since he was going to start training, he figured that might be a good place to start.

“sure,” she chuckled as she scooped some more fruit onto his nearly half-eaten plate of french toast.

“why the laugh?” he questioned through a mouthful of berries.

she shrugged to herself. “your curiosity is showing.”

“i’ve been wondering about it since you took out the mob,” tommy admitted. “if i want to get stronger.. i think this is a good way to.”

“perfecting a skill is the perfect way to get stronger,” y/n voiced. “of course i’ll teach you, kid.” she smiled and he turned back to his breakfast with his own grin. “finish up your food and meet me in the basement; we gotta get you a bow first.”

tommy hadn’t been in the basement of the house yet. he opened the heavy, dusty trapdoor and assumed y/n didn’t go down their often either. he slid down the ladder easily and was immediately hit with heat.

y/n had a welding station upstairs in her shop area, but the basement had a more broad and intense version of that area. several anvils, all cracked and rusted and adorned with different materials were scattered in a sort of pattern amongst the space, a fire burning high in a fireplace at the far side of the room. seeing no sign of y/n, tommy moved to the room to his left.

the next room held a large nether portal, as well as a small farm for netherwart. the dark room felt empty to him, and he had to remind himself that he was in fact in y/n’s house still. he remembered she had said that she didn’t like going to the nether.

“i’m in here, tommy!” she called out. he took another left into a small storage room, where y/n was rustling through a chest. “how tall are you, kid?”

“6’1”,” he answered.

y/n smiled. “you’re a lot taller than i’ll ever be.” she took out a pretty oak bow, slightly scratched and obviously old. “you’ll have to use this for now, until i can make you one that’s your size.” he took the bow from her hands, shrugging.

“it’s fine.”

“good,” she hummed, still shuffling through the chest as tommy took the time to look around the small room.

“what’re the dispensers for?” tommy asked, staring at the wall that held the three stone tools.

“im nothing if not prepared, tommy,” y/n spoke as she took out a quiver and began to fill it with arrows for him. “in case of emergency, those dispensers will set off flares to let others know that im in trouble or that neutral is in danger.”

tommy nodded, still looking at the obviously unused dispensers. “smart.”

“i hope so,” she sighed, handing him the quiver of arrows. he strapped it around himself as she continued, “let’s just hope i never have to use them, yeah?”

“yeah,” he chuckled. she gave him a smile, hoisting her bow higher in her grip.

“you ready to shoot some things?”

...

“relax your shoulders,” y/n reminded. tommy did so, his fingers still white with effort against the taut string of the bow. “don’t pull so hard, tommy. you’re shaking.” he sighed as he let the string and arrow go limp, lowering his bow as y/n approached him closer.

it was his second day of archery training, and he was still missing nearly every target. y/n was a calm and collected teacher, offering him advice that was pointed directly for him and reassured him that there was no rush in the learning process. but after missing fifteen or so shots in a row, tommy was getting frustrated.

and it didn’t help with sapnap and george staring at him through the kitchen windows.

“doin’ great, kid,” sapnap encouraged weakly, taking a drink of the lemonade y/n had lovingly prepared for the boys. just watching the older man sip made tommy’s mouth dry, but he was determined to make five shots in a row before taking a break.

tommy glared at the man before turning his gaze back to his mentor. “ignore him, tommy,” y/n spoke gently. “nick couldn’t hit a target if it was three paces away.”

“that’s a lie!”

“im kidding,” y/n laughed, placing a hand on tommy’s shoulder and turning him away from the distraction that was sapnap. “but seriously, there’s almost always going to be someone watching when you shoot. the more you can tune them out, the better. just focus on your aim--and make sure your grip is looser. you’re gonna snap that string in no time otherwise.”

“loose grip, focus on aim,” tommy breathed and she patted his shoulder as he turned back to the target ahead of him. he hoisted the bow up slowly and pulled the string back just enough that it wasn’t fully taut. he made sure his aim was a little higher than his target, and released the whizzing arrow. the arrow pierced just outside of the center ring.

“perfect,” y/n smiled. “now, do it again.” and he did, taking another deep breath and allowing himself to focus in on the feel of the rough wood on his fingertips, and the tight string he was pulling. the arrow hit just beside his last. she nodded encouragingly. “keep going.”

tommy could feel his heart start to thump in his chest from the excitement of his accurate aim. he took another calming breath and watched as the arrow lodged closer to the center.

“great aim,” she complimented and he grinned as he pulled another one back, trying to contain his shaking as he aimed. the arrow shot lower than his previous, but on the target nonetheless. “still a good shot. one more?”

“yeah,” tommy nodded, licking his dry lips as he retrieved another arrow from his quiver. heart still thumping with utter excitement and pride at y/n complimentary words, he quickly released the arrow and his smile dropped as the arrow lodged into the ground before the target.

“hey, that’s fine!” y/n assured as tommy groaned and dropped his head. “four in a row is an amazing improvement, tommy. you should take a break and reward yourself.”

tommy sighed, looking to the shameful arrow. “yeah. alright.” he dropped the bow to the ground along with his quiver. he looked to his slightly splintered fingers. “im gonna go.. wash up.”

“alright,” y/n smiled as tommy scampered away. she entered into the open kitchen, smiling at her guests. “you boys doing alright?”

they nodded. “when did you take up parenting, y/n?” george giggled. she rolled her eyes as she went to pour her and tommy their own glasses of lemonade. “no, seriously! you care for that kid a lot, it-it’s not a bad thing!”

she sighed, leaning against her counter as she sipped at her lemonade. “i know you two haven’t always agreed with him in the past, but i think tommy’s a good kid. i like his ethic, and i think he has a lot of potential. but that being said..” she shook her head. “he’s so young.” the boys nodded. “he’s been thrown into such a life of chaos and destruction, and im not saying he’s at all innocent, but.. i think it’s good for him to learn that there’s more to this world than just war and enemies. there’s...”

“neutral,” sapnap finished for her. she let out a laugh.

“yeah, neutral,” she agreed, tapping her fingers against her cold glass. “but, yeah, if teaching him peace and self care is motherly of me..” she shrugged. “then i guess im alright with being a parent.”

“that’s sweet,” sapnap nodded. “i hate it.” the three of them laughed, y/n laying a light slap on the man’s arm before tommy’s voice called out to her.

“y/n! can i have some help?”

“im coming!” she called back, setting down her glass of lemonade.

“go help your poor son,” george teased, resting his head in his hand as he gazed at y/n amusedly. she rolled her eyes.

“behave, you two,” she laughed before leaving the kitchen.

there was a moment of silence before george spoke, “i do think it’s quite sweet how y/n’s taken tommy in. i think it’s good for both of them.”

“you say that now,” sapnap sighed, leaning back in his chair. “but just wait until tommy’s back to feeling 100% and y/n’s going around saying “pog” all the time.”

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