#and when the teacher called her (dead)name i was like oh so its a guy

[sugaroto]

Ok so I was in class and the teacher had us write our names and αριθμό μητρώου on paper and when we were done he read all the names and asked us stuff like "Where are you from and what school did you finish?"

And so he calls on a kid at some point by their full name and all

And this person responded "I don't use that name. I go by a different one. And also I use different pronouns."

Which, was the first time I actually heard someone saying that in greek and irl

(Διαφορετικές αντωνυμίες sounded so official)

And the teacher goes like "I support that, and you need to write the name you're using here so I don't get confused." And he went back to the kid to give her the paper and explained how he will be calling her by her chosen name, and I think he said something among the lines 'sorry if I ever get confused and use the wrong one'

Like . Wow. The teachers here are cool

And this wasn't the same teacher I posted about the other day that used different pronouns when talking, that was a different one

[cowgurrrl]

You're My Only Hope for Heaven

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: oh bitch I'm having a fucking blast with this dynamic the slow burn is slow burning

Summary: An unlikely patron saunters into your bar [3.5k]

Warnings: one (1) creepy guy, one (1) fake marriage, lots of flirting that’s not flirting but it’s not not flirting, one (1) kiss

You try not to make it a habit of picking up bar shifts during the week. Not only is it almost always slow, and you barely make any money, but it's hard to go from teaching for eight hours directly to another job. You'd much rather be at home, grading or doing something for yourself for the first time in weeks. But you couldn't say no when Katie called you, almost in tears, begging you to take her shift so she could deal with a burst pipe in her house. You don't regret doing her a favor, but you do regret other things as you stand behind the mostly empty bar as whatever game is happening plays on the screen above your head. You think it's a UT game. Or maybe A&M. Or any of the other SEC Texas schools with an absurd football budget. 

You're basically yawning your way through your shift and working through your newest painting in your head, trying and failing to not think about school until absolutely necessary. Principal Martinez is cracking down on the stupid minutiae the school board demands of its teachers, and you spent most of your afternoon writing student objectives on the board. On top of that, your art club kids have been begging you to plan a field trip to the local art museum for weeks. You finally relented, but the paperwork is mind-numbing and requires much more work than you thought. Between working, making art, and trying to live your life, you barely have time. 

Another reason you hate working weekdays is the creepy regulars. Normally, you can ignore them on a busy Saturday night, but it's harder when it's as dead as it is. You have no idea how Katie deals with them on a regular basis. It started with a guy at the bar, you think his name is Steve, asking you progressively invasive questions. "How old are you?" "You gotta boyfriend?" "What time do you get off?" One right after each other, even after you made it clear you're not interested. Fake laughing and making excuses to run to the back or change a keg don't throw him off. 

"Keep it up, and I'll cut you off." You finally threaten after he asks you why you're being a bitch. You roll your eyes when the bell above the door rings, probably admitting yet another asshole who's gonna make your night hell. When you turn toward the door, the words leave you before you can stop them. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

"Now, is that any way to greet your customers?" Joel chuckles, and you sigh as he sits down in front of you. Thankfully, his brother is not in tow, and you can save yourself a little embarrassment. "I didn't know you worked here."

"I don't," you say. "Whatcha drinkin'?" 

"Looks like you're workin' to me." He smirks and you shoot him a look.

"You wanna free drink or not?" 

"Shiner," he answers quickly. You hum in acknowledgment, not even bothering with the POS system and going right to the fridge to pull a bottle out for him. You pop the cap off and place a napkin under the beer before sliding it to him. "Are you bribin' me?"

"You've gotta be faster with your questions, Miller. You've already accepted it. Might as well enjoy." You say, and he laughs. 

"Well, alright, then," he says, raising his beer to you before taking a quick sip. "So, what's this, then? You moonlightin' as a bartender?" He asks, and you fight yourself on how to answer. What if word gets back to parents? Administration? They couldn't reprimand you for that, right? You know plenty of other teachers with second jobs, so it can't be that taboo. Still, you're hesitant to open up to Joel. Out of all the people who could've walked into your bar tonight, it had to be him.

"Something like that." You settle on, wiping a sticky spot on the bar to avoid his gaze. If he feels anything negative about you having a second job, his face doesn't show it. He has a soft smile on his lips and a slight sunburn across his nose, highlighting the freckles living there that previously went unnoticed. You want to tease him about not wearing sunscreen, but the joke dies in your throat when he rests his elbows on your bar, showing off those stupid biceps you can't not look at. He catches your eyes lingering near the short sleeve of his shirt and opens his mouth like he's going to say something, but a grating voice from the other side of the bar cuts him off.

"Excuse me, sweetheart! You've got other patrons over here!" Steve yells, and you feel your eye twitch at his attitude. Joel notices.

"What's wrong with him?" He asks quietly, leaning forward over the bar to get closer to you. Looking into his brown eyes and confused expression, an idea forms.

"Pretend you know me." You say, and his eyebrows knit together, every emotion visible on his face. 

"I do know you."

"No, I mean," you sigh. "That guy over there is a regular on Wednesdays, and the girl who usually works is married, so he doesn't try anything with her, but I won't give him my number, and he's making me fucking miserable. So, just... pretend to know me." Joel is bigger than Steve. Much bigger. Probably a whole head taller and much broader than the man on the other side of the bar. One word from Joel, and he might actually shut up or, better yet, leave altogether so you can finish your day without any more hiccups.

"Okay," Joel agrees, and you reflexively reach out to touch his thick forearm and squeeze. You don't even realize you did it until he smiles like he won a staring contest or something.

"Thank you," you say before turning and bracing yourself to deal with Steve. "What can I do for you, sir?" You ask, but before you can even finish your sentence, he holds up his empty beer bottle and waves it in front of your face like you're stupid. 

"Another beer." He says, and you bite your tongue. 

"You got it."

"Finally," he groans. "You'd think for such an easy fuckin' job, you'd be better at it." 

"What the fuck is your problem?" You ask, refusing to move from your spot to get him his beer, and he scoffs.

"My problem is that you're bein' a fuckin' bitch and ignorin' me when I didn't do nothin' wrong." He's slurring his words together at this point, and you wordlessly go to the POS system to close his tab and send him on his way. "Hey, I'm talkin' to you!" He yells after you.

"Hey, man, why don't you leave her alone? She's just tryna do her job." Joel speaks up from the other side of the bar, and Steve straightens up in his seat as he assesses Joel. 

"This isn't any of your fuckin' business. Stay out of it."

"It's my business now. That's no way to speak to a lady. I think you owe her a mighty big apology." 

"I don't owe her shit," he spits, and you look over to see Joel setting his jaw and squaring his shoulders. "Why's this even matter to you, big shot?"

"That's my fuckin' wife you're mouthin' off to," Joel says without hesitation, and you quickly school your expression. Wife? You asked him to play along, but you didn't think he'd say that. "So, if you wanna keep the rest of your teeth, I suggest you apologize to her, leave her a nice, big tip for dealin' with your sorry ass, and get yourself a ride home." 

Steve is silent as you take the empty bottle away from him— just in case things get really ugly— and slide him his card and bill. He eyes Joel carefully for a few tense seconds before picking up a pen, signing his check, and leaving without another word. The second he's out the door, you feel a weight lift off your shoulders and sigh at the relief. You scrub a hand down your face and look over at Joel.

"You okay?" He asks gently like you're a spooked horse, and you nod. You take a few minutes to get yourself together, putting in Steve's 30% tip and cleaning off the empty bar before returning to Joel. "What?" He asks when he catches you smirking.

"At least buy a girl dinner before you call me your wife." You say, and he laughs, shaking his head. 

"You said the other girl is married. I just took it and ran," he says. "And I already tried to take you to dinner, but somebody said no." 

"School regulation says it's unethical." 

"Well, we're not at school now, and you're certainly not a teacher right now." He says smoothly, vaguely gesturing to your all-black outfit, and you give him a look. "What time d'you get off?"

"You're gonna get me in trouble." You whisper, and he leans forward across the bar. 

"All I did was ask you a question." He whispers back, playfully mocking you. It could be the smile on his face, the relaxed humor behind his eyes, or the fact that he stood up for you because you asked him to, but you glance between him and the clock and take a deep breath. 

"I get off at 12. Unless it stays dead like this, then I'm closing early," you say, and his smile grows. "But this is not a date." 

"'Course not." He chuckles, and you raise your eyebrows at him. 

"I'm serious. I need you to say it's not a date, so I know you won't come after me if your kid fails my class." 

"Is my kid failing your class?"

"No, she's amazing. But for my own mental well-being, I need you to say that this is not a date." You say, and he grabs your wrist to stop your anxious wringing. 

"Let me buy you a drink. That's it. Nothin' more," he says, squeezing you. "This ain't a date." 

"Thank you." You sigh, and he nods. 

You spend an hour or two idling between conversations with Joel and trying to look busy for any manager who might care enough to check the cameras. You're pretty much done with all your closing duties by 10:00, and you wait until it's been a full hour since anyone else came in to flip the closed sign and do a few last-minute things. When the bar is completely clean, empty, and ready for the next shift, you slink back behind it to make yourself and Joel a drink before sitting beside him. 

"You feelin' proud of yourself for getting us here?" You ask as you clink your glass against his and take a sip. 

"Yeah, I've got the prettiest girl in the whole place sittin' by me," he says, and before you can even scold him, he throws his hands up. "Not a date." 

"Not a date." You repeat.

"Still true, though."

"Don't make me regret saying yes to you, Mr. Miller." You say, and he gives you a look. You like teasing him, especially since you can always see exactly how he's feeling. He's not particularly subtle, contrary to what you're sure others think about him. 

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Joel?" 

"As many times as it takes, I guess," you shrug. "You also clearly have an aversion to being called Mr. Miller."

"My dad was Mr. Miller." He says, and you roll your eyes, groaning and half-folding in on yourself dramatically. 

"Oh, my God, do you know how many men have said that to me since I've become a teacher?"

"Well, it's true!" He says. "Are you sayin' other people are tryna tell my wife to call ‘em by their first names?" He asks, and you laugh. 

"Believe it or not, you're not the first single parent to ask me out." 

"Am I the first one you said yes to?" 

"So far." 

"So far?" He asks, raising his eyebrows, and you hum. "I'll take it." 

Unsurprisingly, Joel is really easy to talk to. He asks questions about your life outside of work, where you went to school, and what made you want to be a teacher. You ask him about his job and family and, somehow, end up talking about the latest cheesy action film he's seen. When both your drinks are empty, the glasses sit there, the ice slowly melting as you talk into the night. Every time a hint of anxiety creeps up your spine, he makes you laugh or tells you an interesting story from his past and distracts you from it. You lose hours sitting there, and you don't even realize it until your phone pings you with a reminder, and you suddenly see it's past midnight.

"Oh, shit," you mumble, showing Joel the time. "I gotta lock up."

"And you have school tomorrow." He says, and you groan as you stand and grab your glasses. 

"Don't remind me. I've got like five million things waiting to get done there." You say. He watches you step behind the bar, leave them in the sink for the opener to find, and no doubt send a catty message in the group chat asking who closed the night before. His eyes don't leave you even when you reach up and grab your bag, your sleeve falling down just enough to reveal a nasty bruise.

"Woah, that looks like it hurt," he says, gesturing to your arm. "How'd you get that?"

"Promise you won't laugh." Your response does nothing to clear up his confusion, but he raises his right hand and makes a cross over his heart.

"I promise." His tone is gentle and even, but you're still hesitant to actually admit it.

"I fell off a table." 

"I told you!"

"Hey!" You scold. "You promised you'd be cool about it!"

"I promised not to laugh." He says, and you roll your eyes. "They still haven't come to fix it for ya?"

"Would I be climbing on tables if they did?"

"Fair enough," he shrugs. You find the bar keys at the bottom of your purse and walk over to where he's still sitting, your hand resting on the back of your chair. He shifts forward until he can catch the edge of your sleeve and roll it up to see the bruise in all her glory. His fingers are warm, and his touch light as he traces the edge of it, not firm enough to make it ache but enough that you feel the pads of his fingers. You freeze like your stillness will be enough for the feather-light touches to continue, your eyes meeting for a split second. He clears his throat and rolls your sleeve back down for you, drawing his hand back. "Tell you what," he says. "I gotta buddy who gets me a good deal on some spare parts. Let me see if I can track down the part you need, and I'll come fix it myself. Free of charge."

"You don't have to do that." 

"And let my wife fall off tables?" He asks, a smirk pulling on his lips, and you shake your head. "It's the least I can do for the free drinks and, ya know, teachin' my kid." 

"Fine, but don't make it a thing. The maintenance people already don't like me. I can't imagine seeking outside help will make them like me." 

"I won't make it a thing," he promises, leaning back in his chair as his eyes travel up and down your body. He sighs heavily and sucks his teeth like you're suddenly too much, and you smile. "It's a damn shame this wasn't a date."

"What'd you do if it was?" The question borders on dangerous, but you can't take it back now that you've said it. It seems to have piqued Joel's interest, too, because he raises his eyebrows at you.

"You really wanna know?" He asks, and you nod.

"I really wanna know," you say. "How does Joel Miller end a successful date?" He gets a little bashful at the question, a blush creeping up his neck, and you knock his knee with yours to get his attention. "C'mon, don't get shy on me now."

"Alright, alright," he grumbles. "If this were a date, and we were gettin' ready to go out separate ways, I'd walk you out to your car, open the door for ya 'cause a lady should never open her own doors," his voice is slow and low, and he watches your face as he speaks. "And I'd kiss you. Nice and slow so I don't scare ya off or anythin'. I might put a hand on your waist or bite that pretty lip or somethin'. And right when I can feel you wantin' a little more, gettin' a little desperate, I'd stop, say goodnight, and walk back to my truck." His words have a devastating effect on you, and you can't look away from him. The heat rolling off him in waves makes you too warm and flustered. His gaze flicks from your eyes to your lips, his own tongue darting out to wet his plump bottom lip, and you have half a mind to think he's looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. You have half a mind to let him. 

"You're right," you finally breathe. "It's a shame this isn't a date." He nods and stands, his broad chest grazing yours as you look up at him. You're not a science teacher by any means. If you were, you might be able to explain the magnetism you feel toward Joel or what stupid chemical in your brain makes you wonder what tricks he keeps up his sleeve. But you're not. You're an art teacher. So, the only thing you can focus on is the deep brown of his irises and the heavy lashes and crow's feet that frame his eyes. And the swoop of his salt and pepper curls, the tint of his slightly pink forehead and strong nose. You want to capture his image in the dim lighting of the bar, but you settle for committing it to memory to scribble in the margins of your notebook for the rest of the week. Why couldn't you have been a science teacher?

Neither of you says anything as he finally steps away, giving you the space to turn off the last of the bar lights and push through the haze he created in your mind. He lingers by the door and opens it for you when you go to the front and step into the humid Austin night. You lock the doors and give him a small smile when you turn around to see him rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. 

Then, just as he said, he walks you to your car and opens the driver's side door for you. His truck, the only other car in the parking lot, is parked a few spaces away from yours. It would've been so much easier to just ignore you, get in his car, and drive away, but here he is, being the gentleman he's always been toward you. You step into the space created by the open door and throw your bag in the passenger seat, but don't get in the car. Not yet. He sighs heavily, like he's in physical pain, when you meet his eyes again, and his hand flexes around the edge of your car door. 

"Thanks for my not date." You mumble, and he nods. You're close (and weak) enough that brushing his lips would just take a strong breeze. It freaks you out how okay you are with the idea of "accidentally" kissing Joel Miller. You should be panicking. Alarm bells should be sounding in your head, but the only thing filling the cavernous space is the echo of his voice explaining what he'd do if this were a date. Idiot.

He leans on your door a little more, and your heart quickens, thinking he might actually be the one to make the move. His head ducks just a little, and you get a strong whiff of his cologne, your eyes fluttering shut at the scent. Your throat is suddenly dry, and you're all but pushing up on your toes when he swerves past your lips and presses a chaste, firm kiss to your cheek. His beard scratches your soft skin pleasantly, and you keep your eyes closed until he pulls away, looking like he just won a prize.

"Get home safe." He says as he steps back, still holding your door open. You sigh and fight a smile as you look at him— cocky, vindicated, and knowing exactly what he just did. 

"Goodnight, Joel." You manage to get out before sitting down and letting him gently shut the door for you. You wait until he gets in his truck to roll your window down and shout his name until he does the same. "I'm gonna get you back for that."

"Oh, I'm countin' on it, darlin'."

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3

[srbachchan]

DAY 5919

StWork, Mumbai May 2, 2024 Thu 12:49 PM

Birthday - EF - Elena Iankova Friday, 3 May .. and all our wishes for a happy birthday

🌹

Yo !

here before time for a very big change .. haha ..

but at work and got a bit of time and BOOM !

got to say the travel from Juhu home to work Marine Drive in 30 mins .. amazing Coastal Road and the Tunnel emerging on Marine Drive , just before its flyover and simply amazing .. !

Super constructed roads, tunnel, neat clean construct .. no traffic jams .. and done ..

Ok just to change the topic .. here is something to know :

Know what is a "mondegreen?'

MONDEGREENS

If you’ve been listening to rock music, you know it’s often hard to make out the lyrics. They sing it their way and we hear it our way.

Jimi Hendrix famously sang the phrase “While I kiss the sky” which was heard by thousands as “While I kissed this guy.”

CCR’s popular song originally said, “There’s a bad moon on the rise.” Many heard it as “There’s a bathroom on the right.”

Deep Purple’s still-popular chorus (known for its timeless guitar riff) “Smoke on the water/Fire in the sky” was misheard as “Smoke on the water/Fire engine guy.”

Nirvana’s anthem “Smells like Teen Spirit” had the lines, “Here we are now/Entertain us.” They were misheard as, “Here we are now/In containers.”

When Elvis Presley sang, “Everybody in the whole cell block”, many heard it as” Everybody in a wholesale frock”

There’s actually a word for misheard lyrics like these.

Mondegreen.

Some mondegreens became so famous that even artistes like Hendrix and CCR sang the misheard versions in their live concerts in a spirit of fun and tease.

It’s not just in pop songs that mondegreens occur. The US national anthem begins with the lofty words, “Oh say, can you see, by the dawn’s early light.’ Some heard them as “José, can you see…”

Occasionally, mondegreens had an interesting side-effect. Joe Cocker sang of a ‘lovely planet’ which was misheard as ‘lonely planet.’ The latter became the name of a well-known travel guide series of books.

No one knows why we hear the wrong thing although there are theories. It’s akin to the game of Chinese Whispers where the original line gets progressively distorted into some hilarious garbage by the time it reaches the last guy.

Mondegreens are not restricted to English alone. South Indians, with limited knowledge of Hindi, were taught patriotic songs in Hindi by zealous teachers. A popular one had the repeating phrase, “Bara tamata.” School students sang it with great gusto. Years later, some of them realized the actual words were “Bharat Mata.”

A popular line from Qurbani song, “Aap jaisa koi meri/zindagee mein aaye/ toh baat bun jaaye” was understood as “Aap jaisa koi…toh baap bun jaaye.” The defective version made sense to many who saw Zeenat Aman gyrating on those lyrics while gaping at Feroz Khan.

Many who weren’t familiar with the hill station between Bombay and Pune heard the Gulaami song as “Haathi ka andaa la” until they realized it was “Aati kya Khandala”.

I have a friend, her name is Geeta. Her family called her Gitu. Throughout her childhood and youth, she thought Rajesh Khanna was singing for her, when he said, ”Mere sapnon ki raani kab aaye Gitu”.

'Mondegreen' sounds French but isn't. In 1954, a writer at Harper’s Magazine remembered how as a little girl she misheard an old English ballad. The actual words, saluting a dead war hero, were:

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘌𝘢𝘳𝘭 𝘰' 𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘺 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯.

She heard them as:

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘌𝘢𝘳𝘭 𝘰' 𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘺 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯.

And thus was born the word ‘mondegreen’ to signify all misheard lyrics from that moment on.

Turns out, mondegreen itself started life as a mondegreen.

sent to me by a friend .. 🤣🤣

More perhaps later .. or perhaps not ..

Amitabh Bachchan

and some more .. a very pertinent article in TOI ..

[lanadeldixon]

Summertime Sadness

Pairing- Daryl x fem reader (some Rosita x reader if you squint)

Word count- 1.1k

Warnings- angst, implied panic attack, mentions of death, someone being beaten, starved Daryl :(

Setting- s7 Alexandria

Summary- The saviours come to collect their 50%, but when you see the condition Daryl is in it’s hard to cope.

“Oh my God,” I whispered “Daryl?” His name a symphony of worry on my lips. A name I used to say with such love now drained of its positivity and filled with fear instead.

Vulnerability shone through his eyes as he turned to me, “Y/N?”

As soon as my name fell from his lips, the end of a gun struck him straight in the jaw, the loud thud of his body hitting the ground echoed through the town.

My breath hitched and a tear rolled down my cheek as they hit him again, yelling at him, “SPEAK WHEN YOU’RE SPOKEN TOO!”

“Leave him alone,” my voice choked up to the point where it came out in only a whisper.

“Let him go,” I cried louder this time, desperate to draw them away.

Hands wrapped around my mouth, too quick for me to react, my screams came out as muffled cries as I attempted to call for help.

But it was no use, I was dragged backwards into my house,

“Shh, you have to calm down, okay?” I immediately un-tensed at the sound of her voice.

“You gotta be tough, you do shit like that you’ll get all of us killed.” Rosita exclaimed sternly.

Her hands released me and she circled me until we were eye to eye.

“You’re not gonna be doing us any favours getting yourself killed,” it was clear to see she was still in grief, she was mourning a man she’d killed off in her mind a long time ago, only now he was truly gone and it was still sinking in.

She had become colder, no one could blame her, however all of us were too busy drowning in our own insurmountable grief and missing loved ones to pay attention to anything else.

I nodded at her like a school kid following her teachers orders then opened my mouth preparing to respond.

“Bam!” The door swung open.

“We said 50% didn’t we?!” His voice shook us to the core.

Whispers of the dead conquered my thoughts as I turned to look at him.

“Woah ho ho well you must be the girl?!”

Negan exclaimed following it with a slight laugh.

“Well you sure are a pretty thing ain’t ya!” His hand reached to my face as he said it, I stared him down, not daring to move but still not hiding my resentment.

“If I weren’t such a fan of your boy Daryl I think I’d have to make you one of my wives,” a sinister grin took over his face as my mine began to pale.

He leaned close to my ear, to the point where I could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke, “Hell, im the boss, I could just do it anyway…”

I tried to hold back my anger, to not say anything out of fear of what he might do. But the idea of having to marry him sickened and overwhelmed me, “fuck you,” I snarled, eyes finally meeting his.

“You got some massive lady balls and I gotta say, I dig that.” He stated, pulling his face away.

“I’m so tempted to bring you home darling.” He finished, deep down I knew he was just teasing but the thought revolted me.

“I would never be the wife of someone like you,” I responded, my face scrunching up.

He looked at me still with that daring smile.

At that point I couldn’t taken it anymore, my rage boiled until finally, it spilled, I looked at him and let out a large wad of spit aiming it right at his leg.

“Go to hell,” I stated, storms in my eyes.

His face finally faltered as he stared at the stain on his trousers.

“Ho ho ho, you bitch,” he said grabbing the back of my hair and yanking me outside of the house.

“How about we put on a little show, huh darling” he purred in my ear.

I felt ill as he forced me to my knees and began to gesture with Lucille.

“Now I was gonna be nice today but it seems some of you still need an example of how to behave.” Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned as he spoke.

I didn’t cry, I was very careful to heed Rosita’s advice and made sure I didn’t once show my fear, Daryl however did not do the same…

“Y/N!” He screamed as if I was already dead.

“DONT TOUCH HER,” he cried with rage, “I’LL KILL YA!”

“Bring him,” calmly, he gestured to the woman on his right as he spoke.

She dragged him so he was diagonal to me, she then kept her hands on his face, forcing him to keep his eyes on me.

Now I knew to be scared but all I could think was how tired he looked, behind the rage and upset was masked malnutrition and exhaustion. I couldn’t help but worry.

“We’re gonna break up another couple tonight,” he laughed aiming and fake swinging his bat at me.

I grimaced at his statement recalling the story of what happened to Glenn and Abraham and the devastation Maggie and Sasha were left with.

“I’m sorry, you would’ve been a real treat to come home too but looks like you’re gonna end up another lost treasure.”

“Last chance to say goodbye lover boy,” Negan warned.

Daryl was screaming profanities at him, doing everything he could to divert Lucille’s attention to him instead but to my relief, his attempts failed…

That was when the countdown started…

“10…” my breathing quickened.

“9…” I could see Daryl’s mouth moving, his whole body scrambling beneath the saviours holding him back, but all I could hear was Negans voice.

“8…” “just continue to do this when you’re scared okay baby?” I could hear my mums voice infiltrating my thoughts, guiding me to breathe.

“7…” I can see the flowers, they look so pretty, especially now that the lilies have grown, my mother didn’t like lilies, she always loved roses.

“6…” I can see the sun, it shines so brightly today, beaming down its light onto all of us, I think of Daryl’s nickname for me.

“5…” I can see my friends, I love my friends. Part of me wishes I could see Maggie again, the other doesn’t want her to see this.

“4…” I can see the sky, it looks painted today, the way the clouds are floating looks ethereal.

“3…” I can see Daryl. My Daryl, I smile.

“2…” I can see the bat, it blocks the sun as it’s lifted high into the sky.

“1…” I can see Glenn and Abraham, I didn’t think I’d see them so soon but I’m happy-

“I’LL JOIN YA!” Silence overcame the crowd as Daryl pleaded.

“Just let her go, that’s all I ask” his voice quaked, there was a frantic look of desperation in his eyes.

Silence…

Negan chuckled before his face turned stern.

“Who are you?” He commanded in a teasing tone.

“I am Negan…”

[thebubblesareevil]

My lab partner is dead, does that mean I get extra credit?

‘Why did she decide to take this class again?’ Barbara thought as she sat in her robotics class. She gave a sigh, ‘because that jerk that’s selling test answers is in this class and she needed to catch him in the act if she was going to report him’ she looked around as she entered the room, most of the seats in the room were taken but lucky for her there was a seat available with a perfect view of her target and the only other person sitting at that table seemed to be passed out so they won’t notice a thing. She made a beeline for the seat and started setting up her supplies, ‘its absolutely freezing right here’ she looked up to see the vent above her. ‘We’ll that explains why no one wanted to sit here’ she thought pulling out her jacket from her bag. She took out one last piece of equipment, a gift from Bruce, a pencil case with a camera on the end with a pen trigger. Her table mate had yet to move when the teacher entered, in fact it looked like he didn’t move at all, Barbara was close to checking his pulse until the teacher called his name for the third time “Daniel Fenton!” He jumped up and said here and she decides she must have been imagining things. When class started. For the most part Barbara ignore the sluggish teen next to her, and planned to do so for the rest of the semester, until her teacher announced lad partners that is. She reluctantly turned to Daniel and held out her hand “let’s work hard!” She said with a forced smile. He looked at her hand for a second before shaking her hand “sure” before laying his head back on the desk. Barbara sighs and decides to ask the teacher if she can trade partners at the end of class, then returns to her observing (spying) on Lloyd. Not noticing she wasn’t the only one observing her classmates.

After class let out Barbara approached the teaches desk, determined to get a new partner. She didn’t even get a chance to speak when the teacher stopped her. “I know what you’re going to say, and no you can’t switch all partner assignments are final unless I am given a valid cause.” Barbara sighed and headed for her locker. She just opened her locker when there was a thump on the other side of the door. She looked on the other side to find Daniel leaning against the next locker. “I’m in” she froze staring at her lab partner. It took her a moment to gather her thought before she asked “what exactly are you in”

“I don’t know why you’re spying on Lloyd, it’s pretty obvious you DONT have a crush on him, the look you just gave me proves it, so you’re planning something, I don’t care what it is but I’m in.”

“I’m sorry, you’ve been here for a grand total of what two days? Why do you want to help me?”

“Oh no offense but it has nothing to do with you. The dude tried to shove me in a locker my first day here. He’s a dick and I don’t know what he did to receive YOUR ire, but I’m sure he deserves it, so I’m in.”

Barbara freezes, Daniel tilts his head questioning. “Okay but this doesn’t change the fact that you better pull your weight in class and in this investigation.” Daniel laughs

“My weight may be half dead but I’d like to think I carry it pretty well.”

Barbara snorts “well then Daniel I do believe we have reached an accord. I do believe this is the start of a beautiful friendship”

“Please call me Danny, the only people who call me Daniel are typically trying to kill me.” He paused “well finish the job at least.” He says with a shrug

———

Miles away at Gotham city police department commissioner Jim Gordon felt a shiver creep up his spine

I will be adding more so keep an eye out this is just the beginning mwahahaha

[blackopals-world]

I fell in love with your writing as soon as I saw that Onsen!Yuu fic. It was so good! Anyhoo! May I request a fic of Fem!Yuu where she sings and dances beautifully, seemingly alone. Unbeknown to her, a couple of Pomefiore students and the Tweels were watching her (while being unaware of the other). Cue Pomefiore and Octavinelle fighting over Yuu who's just confused.

~Oh my~

I was just thinking of something like this. Allow me to fulfill your request.

Dancer!femYuu gets kidnapped

Lace and silk

Satin touching cold wooden floors

A hand on hers

A soft piano plays

Familiar

Warm

Hot

HOT

Yuu woke up with a jolt as Grim rolled off her chest with a loud yowl.

"Just a dream" she thought to herself as she picked up her furry friend and placed him on the other pillow.

She tried to remember her old life that seemed only to come in the depths of night. Phantom movements that ghosted around her. A life unknown but still so close.

The morning light had barely touched the sky let alone crest the horizon.It was the weekend and she had nowhere to be. Still, Yuu needed to move. Throwing on a dress and flats Yuu left Ramshackle but not before giving Grim a little kiss.

The campus was still and foggy but Yuu felt a pull in her chest. Luring her to somewhere unknown. It begged her to get lost in the cool mist.

She remembered a day like this, when see would run to school as a little girl.

Yuu felt herself laugh as she took off, feeling the droplets of water slick to her skin. She felt alive.

Until she found the place her heart desired.

A bridge over a small lake that ended on a little island in the center. Black swans swam from shore to shore and fish tapped the water's surface.

Yuu remembered a day like this. When she stood by the bank with friends and threw breadcrumbs and seeds to the ducks in the water. They would gush about the boys in class and who they wanted to dance with. They would practice their jumps and twirls until one of them felling in the water and the others fished her out.

Yuu tried to remember their faces or names but it came back blotted like ink spilled on paper.

But she remembered the way it felt. The movements that she practiced so carefully once upon a time. Of when she was just a girl in a small town, who danced to her hearts content.

She stood on the stone railing of the bridge and walked across it like her old balance beam. She remembered how much her teacher hated when she turned it into a headstand. Thankfully she knew now not to after a near concussion.

A little duckling strayed away from its mother and wondered onto the bridge to watch her.

Yuu used to love the baby ducklings back home. She had a little song she'd sing to call them after ballet practice.

How'd it go?

Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these broken wings and learn to fly

All your life

You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Yuu felt her body move as though possessed. She danced to the sound of her own voice.

Unknown to her that two heads peaked out from just above the water. Listening and watching. Hidden by the fog.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these sunken eyes and learn to see

All your life

You were only waiting for this moment to be free

Simultaneously a few Pomefiore students heard the sound of singing in the mist and followed what they thought would be a siren or spirit. Only to find The Prefect dancing across the bridge with a gaggle of swans following her and almost seemed to dance beside her.

Her voice rang like a twinkling bell as she giggled joyously as she danced on the tips of her toes. Her dress flowing around her.

"Shrimpy, looks like she's having fun. She could float away at any moment." Floyd smiled showing rows of sharp teeth.

Blackbird fly, blackbird fly

Into the light of a dark black night

"Like, a lovely jellyfish drifting in the water." Jade responded his tail curling in delight. "Azul, would love to see this and I'd be a shame miss it."

"We should grab Shrimpy and take her back with us." Floyed cackled as they formed a plan.

Blackbird fly, blackbird fly

Into the light of a dark black night

"She gorgeous. A true icon of beauty." One of the Pomefiore boys said.

"Indeed, wild and untamed. Hair flowing in the wind like a goddess." The other said.

"We have to invite her back with us. The other have to hear her voice. Imagine the crime we would have committed to not share her." The last piped up.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these broken wings and learn to fly

All your life

You were only waiting for this moment to arise

You were only waiting for this moment to arise

You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Just as Yuu finished her song there was a splash in the water and she was suddenly pulled in. She screamed as she believed that she was going to be eaten by some kind of lake monster.

When she heard the sound of Floyd laughing she knew she was right. She thrashed against the tweels as she ranted that this wasn't funny and they got her all wet.

See was so distracted she didn't notice the Pomefiore boys calling out to her believing that she was being kidnapped. (which she was)

They quickly rallied the other Pomefiore students along with Rook and Vil and told them what happened.

"They dragged our Dove unto the depths. She went from singing her heart out to screaming her lungs out." The Pomefiore boys cried tearfully.

"Ça alors!" Rook said shocked at the retelling. "We must save her!"

Vil tried to parcel the truth of this matter. It seemed as though the Octavinelles saw how taken his dorm was with the Prefect and have stolen her away. What ransom could they want? Poor Yuu must be distraught but who else was fit to save her but him?

All the while Yuu while mad was given new clothes to wear while her's dried. She was not a fan of a cold dip so early and being wisked away while she was in the moment. She was the moment, basking in it even.

She sat in the empty lounge as Azul smiled to placate her as he showed her a contratfor a new lounge singer. But Yuu wasn't in the mood.

"Come on siren, take the deal. Just one stroke of the pen?" Azul cooed.

"I'll think about it." Yuu huffed.

At that moment a Octavinelle student ran into the lounge.

"The Pomefiores are rioting outside! They want the Prefect!" He yelled.

"Tell them to go drown. She stays here." Azul said roughly "Unless they can offer be something better."

Yuu had no idea what was going on. She just wanted to dance a bit. Now the dorms are fighting.

Azul had to meet Vil at the dorm entrance to settle the dispute with the tweels all the while Yuu was left unsupervised.

Yuu quickly took a backroom exist out of Octavinelle and headed home. Whatever resulted from this was not her problem. Not her circus or her flying monkeys.

Yuu wandered how the most sensible of the dorms ended up acting this way.

She later met up with Ace and Deuce to show them her dance skills.

[scoops-aboy86]

Obsessed with the idea of working at scoops ahoy causing Steve’s weight gain. Maybe Eddie comes into the store at some point

Oh hell yeah, it’s such a goldmine of opportunities. 

Does Steve start snacking on purpose or does it creep up on him over time, during the slow hours when the only so-called customers are Erica Sinclair and her sampling horde? Is it the cold, thick ice cream that calls to him? Nibbles of toppings? The crunch of an empty cone that broke in the bag and it’s just going to go to waste otherwise? I think we all know he’d eat the bananas, they’re fruit and therefore healthy and therefore he can have as many as he wants. 

Or… (Brace yourself for 4067 words, 1k for every day this sat in my inbox. 😅)

Eddie has resorted to entering the mall for its air conditioning, and stays for the music selection in the Sam Goody. He’s about to leave when he passes Scoops Ahoy, and—is that King Steve? Oh, he has to go in. 

The store is otherwise quiet, and Steve’s coworker that Eddie vaguely recognizes from school is hanging out the window behind the counter, accepting a free employee’s cone that Steve has just scooped for her. “I can’t believe you eat so much of this stuff,” Steve is saying, and Eddie is surprised to hear a lot more genuine confusion than derision in his tone. 

“It’s ice cream, Steven,” the girl retorts, rolling her eyes. “Pretty sure it’s universally beloved by anyone who can stomach dairy or has ever experienced a heat wave.”

“It’s pure sugar,” Steve protests. “You’re going to get hyper and crash in an hour or two, and then you’ll be cranky while we’re closing up again.”

“That’s the plan, dingus,” she says with bright sarcasm, and takes an exaggerated lick of her cone before rocking backwards and snapping the window shut. 

And well. What is Eddie to do with King Steve’s apparent disdain for ice cream but dare him to eat some? He’ll let Steve pick his own favorite flavor, he’s not an animal, but— “Well well, I see how it is, Harrington. You’ll sell it but you won’t eat it? I’m pretty sure that’s negative advertising. Should I maybe… tell the manager?”

Steve whips around, and puts his hands on his hips that reminds Eddie terrifyingly of his gym teacher… who, now that he thinks about it, also coaches the basketball team, he’s pretty sure. Hilarious. 

“The manager isn’t even here today,” Steve snaps. 

“Oh, I could come back,” Eddie says with a smirk, and leans against the glass case to look him dead in the eye. “Whatcha got against the ice cream here, huh? Is it not very good?”

The jock pinches the bridge of his nose, another look he swears he’s seen in response to his forced attempts at sportsball over the past five years. “Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters, and pulls his ice cream scoop from his side holster with a little spin to get it in the ready position—what the hell, people can actually do shit like that in real life? “Please tell me you’ll go away if I give you a free cone.”

“I’ll go away if you eat a free cone,” Eddie shoots back. 

“Fine. Whatever.” Steve slides one of the back panels on the display case open and digs a scoop out of the tub of chocolate ice cream, grabbing a cone to plop it into. 

“Two scoops,” Eddie prods, amazed that it’s turning out this easy and amazed again when Steve just rolls his eyes and does it. “And I’ll hang around for a bit to make sure you don’t cheat.”

“Munson, I swear to god—”

Eddie flutters his eyelashes and slaps a hand to his own cheek. “Oh heavens,” he exclaims in a bad falsetto, “King Steve remembers my name, I might faint!”

Watching Steve bite and try to swallow as much of his reluctant treat as possible to get it done and Eddie gone faster is a spectacle only made better by the brain freeze visibly hitting Steve a second later. 

The next day Eddie goes back and half annoys, half challenges Steve into eating another ice cream treat. Robin, the coworker, thinks it’s hysterical and even helps him badger Steve into doing it. She gives Eddie a high five and, the following day when he comes back and does it again, introduces him to the You Rule You Suck board. She marks another two ticks in the latter column, one for each scoop. 

It’s six days of this in a row before Steve seems to realize how committed Eddie is to the bit. As soon as Eddie comes into the ice cream parlor on the seventh day, Steve just starts automatically preparing himself a two scoop cone of chocolate ice cream while scowling at him. 

So, on that seventh day, Eddie gives it a rest and actually orders something for once: a scoop of orange berry sherbet in a cup. Robin gets it for him and he accepts it with a bow, letting his change slide into the tip jar for the entertainment. “Thanks,” he says with a grin. “Don’t like ice cream much myself, but sherbet always hits the spot.”

Steve crunches loudly on the last of his cone and pushes his way into the back room to sulk his way through his fifteen minute break. 

And Eddie keeps coming back, because he’s grown to appreciate Steve and Robin’s idle banter in between customers—though his official reason is to mooch off the mall’s AC. Steve treats him more like a pest than a freak, which is. Refreshing? It’s something, anyway, Eddie thinks. Can’t quite decide if it’s amusing or annoying, so he sticks around to find out. And to check out the royal ass in those little shorts, thank you corporate America. 

Within a few weeks, Eddie has gotten used to planning his campaigns in a cool and only slightly sticky environment on a daily basis and also witnessed Steve interacting with his brood of young teens. (The hands on hips comes out again. Pinching the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh keeps making repeat appearances. Threats with no actual weight behind them are made. Eddie isn’t quite sure how he feels about Steve reacting to him the same way he does a bratty gaggle of incoming freshmen, but it is also so funny to watch and then needle him about with Robin.) And Steve has started eating ice cream of his own accord. 

“Whatever,” Steve grumbles when rudely confronted by this fact, which happens every other day or so; Eddie and Robin take turns. He adds a third scoop to his cone without even seeming to think about it. “Everybody loves ice cream.”

Gradually, Eddie’s interest in Steve has shifted. He still gives the guy a hard time, all grins and theatrics and toeing the line, but the King—former King, really, since high school, for Steve, is over and Eddie and Robin have both personally witnessed some of his spectacular flops in the flirting department that really drive that fact home—is actually not that bad. A lot of the popular jock swagger is gone, replaced by tolerant exasperation and a sarcastic, delightfully bitchy streak that Eddie just loves to poke at. 

But more than just that, there’s… more of Steve. The ice cream floodgates have opened, and Eddie has definitely noticed the way Steve’s little sailor shorts showcase his imminently grabbable ass better by the day. Every part of Steve is looking a little softer, Eddie can tell through his shirt that he’s getting a little belly, and there is nothing the metalhead wants more than to touch. 

It’s becoming a problem, actually. He watches Steve lick at an ice cream cone every day and, increasingly, the image is burning itself into his brain. Eddie didn’t ask for this, doesn’t necessarily think getting so attached is a good development, for his reputation or his sanity, but that doesn’t stop him from picturing it at night. 

So sue him, Steve is pretty and Eddie is a young gay man with a healthy sex drive and a strong right hand. And it gets a workout aaaaaall summer.

By the end of August, they’re actually kind of friends. Steve is locking up Scoops after a long, grueling solo shift because Robin had called out with a summer cold. Eddie helps, because yeah he’s not an employee but he’s been hanging around long enough to know how to do it all, and Steve… Steve gets a bit winded these days, if he has to do it all by himself. 

It had taken him a while to size up from his first uniform, belly and more than a few stretch marks peeking a little out the bottom before finally giving in and putting in the request. By the time the replacement finally arrived the blue sailor shirt kept riding up by a good fraction of an inch, and Eddie’s cue to realize he was staring again had come every time Steve tried to pull it back down, or hike up his straining shorts in an unsuccessful attempt to split the difference… So, basically, any time Steve wasn’t behind the counter, because it happened constantly. And then he’d be staring again by the time it happened again a few minutes later. Probably would have been less stressful to just keep looking. 

Even with the resized uniform, and the next, Steve kept eating ice cream without any sign of regrets or second thoughts. He was up to three or four cones a shift now, one right after clocking in and the rest timed to just before predictable busy hours so he could ride the sugar high through the turbulent waters of food court customer service. Three scoop minimum, with a constantly revolving selection of toppings and more often than not in one of the big cones that came pre-dipped in chocolate and rainbow sprinkles. 

But always chocolate ice cream, though, same as Eddie always getting his scoop of sherbet in a cup. 

“No accounting for taste,” Eddie sighs as Steve hands him his usual as a thank you for helping and starts scooping himself an all chocolate ice cream banana split. 

“Excuse you, Munson, chocolate is a classic,” Steve retorts, barely glancing up. “It’s chocolate. Everybody’s heard of it. Who’s heard of orange berry sherbet?”

“You literally sell it for a living.”

“Mostly only to you.” Ice cream acquired, Steve turns to the side counter and starts adding whipped cream and various toppings. “I mean, regular orange sherbet was my grandad’s favorite. You, Eddie Munson, have grandpa taste.”

Eddie slaps one hand over his heart, while the other (the one with more rings) clacks dramatically against the display glass. “Excuse you, what about me says grandpa to you? Is it the long, dark hair? My dexterous and nimble musician’s fingers? The very youthful twinkle in my eye?!”

“I literally just told you it’s your taste in ice cream,” Steve replies, with maraschino cherries rounding out his already round cheek and a bitchy roll of his eyes. 

Despite being annoyed, the sight swamps Eddie with a now familiar feeling of wanting to grab Steve by the face and, just. Aggressively make out with him. Taste that sticky red fruit on his tongue. Feel how soft he is, all that extra padding around his middle, how increasingly heavy that belly rests on his thighs throughout the journey from empty to full. 

All of which is crazy, because it’s Steve Harrington, Hawkin High’s golden boy athlete. And yet. 

Since the tables have all been wiped down already, Steve waves for Eddie to follow him into the employees only area. He’s been back there before but tonight he’s surprised to see several tubs of ice cream crowding the break table. “Oh. I thought you tossed the empty tubs out earlier…”

“They’re not empty,” Steve says simply, settling into the nearest chair with a huff like it’s a relief to sit down. Which Eddie can believe, from the way he’s a little bit flushed. And then, then, Steve hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and tugs them down to let his belly out over the top of them, digs a hand in to dig the bottom of it out. Breathing room. And it’s necessary, is the thing, because there are indented red lines on his skin from where the seams have been pressing. Eddie is staring, and he knows that Steve knows—is pretty sure, suddenly, that Steve wants him to. When his eyes flick up to the other boy’s soft face and the smug little smile there, Steve winks and gives his belly a pat. “I'm empty, though. These should be melted enough for you to pour for me by now. You want to, don’t you?”

“Uh,” Eddie says. Simultaneously, his throat has gone desert-dry and his mouth fills with spit. He has never wanted to bite someone more than he does right now. “Yeah?”

The grin widens cockily, and Steve slouches in his chair a bit, spreading his legs and letting his belly drop between them to put himself even more on display. “I knew it,” he crows, digging a spoon into his banana split to load up the opening salvo. “I knew you were watching me. It’s the shorts, right? They make my ass look great.”

And wow, the sheer amount of ice cream and banana he crams in his mouth belies his own words, hazel eyes flashing as if challenging Eddie not to look at his lips with their sheen of lip gloss and melted ice cream, the way he licks the spoon to make sure he’s gotten every last trace of chocolate and whipped cream. Telegraphing, I know it’s not just the shorts.

Eddie swallows hard and tries not to grind his teeth because, yeah. Urge to bite. “I’m, uh, not going to tell you. Wouldn’t want to inflate your big head any more… Not when your eyes are already that much bigger than your stomach.” He waves vaguely at the tubs on the table. “These are three gallon tubs, man. Even mostly empty, there must be at least a gallon of melted ice cream here, on top of everything you’ve put away today.” 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Steve scoffs. The second spoonful is already passing his plush lips before Eddie can reply, eyes glued to the way they pucker around the metal as he draws it out slowly, once again clean. There’s a single dribble of chocolate running down his chin, though, reaching and dripping from the suggestion of a second one onto the front of his sailor shirt… the shirt that will have to be sized up again soon, a testament to just how big Steve’s stomach really is.

“Wait,” he sputters, brain catching up to Steve’s words, “wouldn’t be… What?”

So Steve explains that, after Eddie had first goaded him into eating ice cream at work, it had truly hit him for the first time how much ice cream Scoops Ahoy’s company policy had them throwing out at the end of each day. He’d started with just finishing off the scraps of chocolate left at the bottom of a mostly empty tub on one of the maybe once a month occasions he got stuck closing up alone. The next time there hadn’t been any almost-done chocolate slated for the dumpster out back, so instead he’d stirred chocolate sauce into the softening Cookies N Cream until it better suited his taste buds. 

And he’d liked it. The ice cream itself, of course, but also the tight, intense feeling in his stomach that came with being overly full. 

So, since he didn’t close up solo very often, he’d started sneaking a tub or two out to his car when he could get away with it. The contents would always melt before he got home, and since he didn’t have unlimited chocolate sauce on hand there…

“...I’ve ended up expanding my horizons.” Steve winks. “Among other things. There’s something really freeing about getting all sticky on your own kitchen floor, you know?”

Eddie is still standing, holding his cup of sherbet and mouth dropped open while he processes this. Of course he’d known that Steve had to be aware, on some level, of what he was doing to himself… but this is so closely aligned with his own secret fantasies that he can’t help but suspect it’s some sort of trick. An elaborate trap designed to definitively out him as a freak. He narrows his eyes, then stalks forward to further investigate the tubs, trying to ignore the hard-on forming in his jeans. There’s Vanilla Chip, USS Butterscotch, Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, Cinnabon Swirl, and something he thinks might be Cherries Jubilee with most of the cherry parts already scooped out. 

“You don’t like any of these flavors,” he accuses, crossing his arms and leveling a stare at Steve, trying really hard to convey more skepticism than lust. “You hate anything but chocolate, even if it’s something else and chocolate. I actively judge you for it on a daily basis.”

Steve shrugs. “Drinking it is different from eating it.”

Which, okay, makes some sense, Eddie supposes, but that makes no sense. Neither does the concept of Steve Harrington chugging ice cream straight from the tub on the floor of his fancy rich boy kitchen, smeared in chocolate like a pig rolled in mud, maybe with his uniform stripped off the second he got home because it was getting too tight, or because he wanted to watch himself expand with each greedy gulp—

Eddie takes a deep breath and gets ahold of himself before he resorts to jamming his hand down his pants and… getting ahold of himself. He just has one more question, and if that checks out then he’s going for it. “How much weight have you gained since you took this job, Steve?”

Steve gives him an exact answer, down to one decimal point and Eddie is already stalking forward, putting his forgotten, melting cup of sherbet down and grabbing the nearest tub.

It pours nice and smooth over Steve’s lips, down his throat, and into a bottomless pit apparently from the way he never signals to pause or slow down. He just keeps gulping it down, moaning when the chocolate from the Vanilla Chip avalanche down from where it was all piled at the bottom into his mouth. When it’s cookie dough pieces that takes him a little longer to get through, and he returns to bites of his banana split between mouthfuls. Streaks of pale cream line his neck, beading in the chest hair just barely peeking out the top of his shirt like he’s begun sweating cream, and while chugging he increasingly often has a free hand rubbing tight circles over his stomach. 

He breaks away from the rim of the last tub with a gasp. The last thick dribbles of USS Butterscotch splatters on his cheek from Eddie’s attempt to shake whatever’s left out. “So full,” he slurs, looking up at Eddie from beneath heavy eyelids. 

And then he pushes past it, ignores whatever signals his stuffed gut is trying to send him, all his attention rerouted into sluggishly cramming the last of the banana split in his mouth. 

Eddie drops the empty tub to the floor and lurches forward to lick sloppily at the other boy's cheek, at his chin, at his neck. A ringed hand brushes over the swollen belly between them, only for Steve to grab on and guide him to press harder, explore his waist and love handles. Then they’re kissing, both of their faces sticky with sugar and dairy, and Steve tastes like the inside of a honey pot, he’s so sweet. 

It’s not just the way he tastes. Steve’s pupils are blown, reactions slow as he kisses back lazily but with a happy hum. Eddie wonders if he would even be able to get up right now, with so much inside him. 

“Can’t believe you,” Eddie marvels, nipping at slick lips. “Can’t believe you like this—” he gets his fingers up Steve’s shirt and drags it up to knead at the padded suggestion of ribs, at softened, hairy pecs that are just as sensitive as Eddie had dreamed, from the whine he gets from just a testing squeeze “—so fucking much, but you do, don’t you sweetheart?” 

He drops his touch down to the straining arch of Steve’s belly and feels the underside of it, lifting a little, testing; even being careful, he jars a string of breathy hiccups loose. “Edd—hic—ieee,” Steve whines, trying to squirm, trying to press into his touch, but can barely manage anything before he has to stop and catch his breath. “‘M so…”

“Is that why you’re such a brat all the time, Steve, because you’re hungry?” Eddie coos. He leans in to kiss him again, then drops to his knees. “All I have to do to make you docile is fill you up. Takes a while, but.” He slaps the plump roll spilling over the side of Steve’s shorts, surprising a burp followed by a groan out of him this time. “Well worth the wait, big boy.”

At which Steve giggles, and mumbles something that sounds like an echo of ‘wait,’ but Eddie’s not sure of the spelling. 

“If you’ll pardon the pun,” he adds dryly, and grins when that gets him another giggle. “Well spotted, Stevie.”

And then, because Eddie figures that he has been admirably patient up to this point, wriggles his way into the blue sailor shorts straining before him for his treat. With Steve’s ragged moans of yes and fuck and Eds ringing in his ears right up until Steve’s thick thighs clamp around his head in the ecstasy of orgasm, and it’s worth it. 

The wet stain seeping through the front of Eddie’s jeans proves it. 

He helps a very dazed, very sated Steve clean up after—though, honestly, Eddie does almost all the work. (Steve slurps down his little cup of melted sherbet no problem though, smiling serenely as Eddie gives his still exposed belly an approving slap.)

“You okay to drive home, man?”

Steve hums, then yawns—giving himself a third chin for a second there. “‘M not sure if I’m good to stand up,” he admits. “‘Sfine, I can sleep here…”

Eddie rolls his eyes and grabs both the other boy’s hands. “Oh no you don’t. If you stay, some security guard is going to find you here looking like a stowaway on the Good Ship Lollipop, and we can’t have that. I’ll give you a ride, come on—up on three. One, two… two and a half…”

Fifteen minutes later he hustles a slow-moving Steve into the back of his van, where the guy can at least lay down and stretch out while his body attempts to digest. And Eddie wonders—is this what he’s become? Spending his entire summer at the mall palling around with the former King of Hawkins High, filling said dude full as a tick exactly once and getting them both off in the process, and then driving him home like a nice boy at the end of a respectable date? 

No one has called Eddie a nice boy since approximately kindergarten, and respectable probably never. But he glances over his shoulder to see his stuffed and sleepy sailor boy cuddled up under the blanket he keeps back there in case of emergencies, knows that beneath it Steve is still spilling out of his shorts because once undone they’d been impossible to zip and button up again, and feels… something at the look of utter contentment on his face. Something that’s been growing in him for a while, if he’s being honest with himself, intertwined with every sardonic comment and light ribbing at Steve’s expense. And Steve always gives as good as he gets—except tonight, when he’d just let Eddie take and take, letting go completely. They could be good together, Eddie thinks; especially since what they each want seems to mesh so well.

Steve has already been wearing the results of this particular brand of hedonism for months now, so maybe he won’t even regret it come morning. 

Maybe if Eddie leaves his number after getting Steve home (probably only as far as the couch, for simplicity’s sake), Steve will call. 

They can hang out somewhere outside of Scoops Ahoy, maybe even call it a date. Maybe Steve will let Eddie feed him sweet nothings under the stars and smile that sweet little smile at him again when he gets full, all happiness and trust. It’s a heady prospect, one that knocks Eddie’s dumb heart for a loop just considering it. 

He ends up parking in the woods just a short walk from Steve’s house and crawling in the back of the van with him. One quick change into an emergency pair of clean boxers (he keeps a lot of stuff back there in case of emergencies, okay?) and he makes himself comfortable as the big spoon to Steve’s invitingly cuddly form. 

And wonders, as he dozes off, what they’ll do for breakfast. 

Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie

[djsherriff-responses]

Personal opinions and general character design critique regarding the Nymphs from Rayman (spoiler: they all suffer from having same face/body syndrome and the designers being too horny to consider other design elements)

Betilla: I feel her origins redesign was a downgrade from her whimsical style in the first game, but I also do understand why they wanted to change her, as origins was meant as a reboot of the franchise and they wanted Rayman to be the only limbless in the Glade of Dreams. But since origins ended up not being a series reboot (with its plot only existing in code) and Rayman having skins/costumes who are meant to be different limbless characters anyways , changing Betilla drastically was already meaningless in the long run , much less the choice to make her be a basic hot nymph

Outside of it being impossible to Google her name in front of family , I personally don’t mind how she looks in Origins as the red hair contrasts really nicely with the greens, if you really wanna push some symbolism imagery here you can make arguments the red + green is meant to be reminiscent of flowers or berries. Ultimately though it is just a green bikini outfit with thigh highs and the only real connection to her role as the nymph of the forest/jungle area of the game is the colours, and maybe the odd stitch work pattern

Which is a bit of shame as you can easily replace the blue stars of her old design with an actual star-ish looking flower called Bletilla (literally one letter off from her actual name) or other flora

I don’t think the issue was they wanted to give Betilla a redesign that had sex appeal , I just think they went in the wrong direction with it. Considering that she played a large role in the old educational games and she was a sort of mentor figure to Rayman (if not just straight up his mother depending on one’s headcanons), they could’ve given Betilla a personality and sex appeal by making her a hot teacher type character (who may or may not count as a milf), hell give her signs of age like small wrinkles to really get the point across she’s older than most of the player characters, and she’s aged like spicy fine wine

Her design in the first game is adorable while giving her the vibes of a mature fairy god mother type mentor, but I don’t think it would work in the more modern Rayman games without some updated tweaks. It is pretty though and does has more personality than her origins design, and the other nymphs for that matter

Holly: I like that there’s some actual details on her and some colour variation compared to her sisters, even if she’s 3 out of 6 nymphs whose main colour is some shade of blue

Besides giving her an outfit that isn’t a skirt and bra, I think her design could better reflect that her domain is the desert of dijiridoos by having some musical elements to her design. It’s kinda odd her tattoos/body paint (which do look good on her and her skin tone) don’t reference musical notes at least, wasted opportunity there

I have this issue with Edith and Annetta as well, but I’m a bit confused about why dead animals seems like a popular fashion choice for these ladies , especially since (in the origins game) none of the nymphs are shown as fighters (not saying they’re incapable, the game just doesn’t show them as such) and we’re not giving lore hints about it? I’ll talk more on this issue when I get to the other two , but it’s odd that Holly’s domain is populated by birds and she’s wearing a bird skull

Was it a nightmare and she kill it? Is it a beloved pet and she couldn’t part with them even after death? 🤷‍♀️

I can’t really think of any alternatives for her or the other two animal hat sisters atm, but at least it’s looks badass even if it doesn’t do much personality wise, so points for looking cool at least

Edith: Edith I think is the worst design of the sisters , hands down, no competition. I mean , what is there to really say about her? “Oh we have a level based around a combination of spicy food and ice drinks with dragon butlers , how should we design this chick?”

“Just put her in red with a lizard hat”

Almost nothing about her design reflects her domain besides that she’s blonde and wears red , and that’s only half of the domain she’s meant to be part off. Her outfit pattern could’ve at least have some reference to the ice levels, or give her literally anything to connect her to those ice levels

I also don’t like how her hair is styled, the colour is fine but the shape looks ugly

Incredibly morbid Edith walks around with a dead butler on her head, especially considering the final boss/king of her level is also a dragon. Unlike Holly and Annetta, I can’t even give Edith credit for looking cool because it’s just more red on a very red and bland design

…… do you think Edith uses her corpse hat as a hand puppet?

Annetta: While I think it’s a weird choice to have nymphs of nature walk around with corpse head gear (much less ones of their domain’s general population) I think Annetta is the most justified of the nymph sisters to be wearing a hat made of a dead animal

Considering that her domain has a notable fishing population and she’s already dressed in fish scales, Annetta wearing a fish skull does actually contribute to showing the lore of her as a character and her connection to her domain. Unlike Holly and Edith , I don’t need to come up with some theory about their fashion choices when Annetta’s reflects already existing lore in origins (what little of it at least)

I personally do think the outfit looks ugly and plain uncomfortable, but I will give this design some credit for having one of the more visually detailed designs by virtue of her scales alone, and it actually makes sense for the nymph whose domain is the literal ocean to be in a skimpy outfit, even if her shell bra has to be glued on to her boobs

Unlike Edith’s outfit colour which is just red, Annetta’s has various shades of blues and teals that are reminiscent of the sea. It’s pretty I like it

Helena: Much like Edith there’s not that much to say here but what I can say is mostly positive

Helena’s a pretty standard design of “blonde chick in cool blues with white fluff details” and yeah that’s generic usually, but here I really like her. I think it’s how the fur and cloth looks textured along how her hair front is styled that makes her incredibly cute to me

Yeah, Helena is a simple but cute character design

Weird that a mountain nymph who has to live through cold weather wears a skimpy outfit with her bare thighs out , but I’m gonna assume that’s because she , much like her sisters, was designed to be sexy first and given aesthetics after they made the body model

Fée de la Mort/VooDoo Mama/Big Mama: As cool as she looks, when compared to both her monster form and the other nymphs , you can tell she wasn’t planned to be one of them, especially when you look up Mamma Hite

I bring that up because while Fee has a good design, she is also a visual metaphor that reflects Origins’ identity: a failed series reboot whose plot was scrapped in favour of goofy extremism (or sex appeal in the nymphs case)

So about Fee’s actual design: I personally don’t like the pink used on her and would’ve liked her Nymph form to reflect the monster form besides the hair

probs to the fact she’s the only nymph with her own pose which already gives her a lot of personality , but the combination of her tattoos, bone jewellery and her baggy looking eyes really sells the fact she’s from the land of the livid dead and thus sticks out amongst the other fairies, even if you ignored the bat wings she has

visually she does work as a undead fairy of the underworld who likes to rock and roll, so job well done with that

I kinda do wish they stuck with the frog though

[jokertrap-ran]

BAD MEDICINE ~Infectious teachers~ [PC GAME] Kashu Remu (Chemistry) Route Translations (Part 11)

MC’s name is retained as the original MC name Kawana Hina.

* Words within ‘   ‘ are spoken in English – *Spoiler free : Translations under cut! *T/N: So... its been 7 years since I started this? Wow. This project is old, this blog is old, I am old-

Prologue / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11

Hina: I’m done preparing for tomorrow’s classes, and all my homework’s done too. I didn’t forget anything, did I?

Hina: Hmm… That should be all. I should turn in early so that I’m ready to face all the challenges ahead tomorrow.

Hina: (Haa… I wouldn’t be surprised if Kashu-sensei came up with something weird again tomorrow…)

Hina: (Or maybe it’s even odder if nothing strange were to happen.)

Hina: …I feel like I’ve gotten used to it, actually. Who knows if that’s actually a good thing though…

Hina: Huh? An Incoming call this late into the night? Wonder who?

Hina: And it’s from an unknown number…

Hina: (It’s not someone I know, but unknown numbers don’t usually call at this hour either.)

Hina: Hello? Um, who is this speaking…?

Kashu: …Yo.

Hina: That voice… K-Kashu-sensei!? Err, why do you have my number?

Kashu: I’m a teacher, you know?

Hina: So I’m aware, but that’s besides the matter. Can I help you with something? You don’t sound too good…

Kashu: Ahaha, really? I see. You can tell, huh…

Hina: Kashu-sensei…? Did something happen?

Kashu: Yeah… guess it doesn’t work out after all. I don’t know why, though.

Hina: Um… sensei? What exactly do you mean by that…?

Kashu: The medicine, of course.

Hina: Oh…

Kashu: Ahaha, do you still remember what I’m talking about?

Hina: Of course I do. There’s no way I could ever forget.

Hina: (But even I know that he can’t possibly make a medicine that’s capable of reviving the dead.)

Hina: (I’m sure he knows that too, but why’s he still persisting till now…?)

Kashu: I’m giving up on it.

Hina: What?

Kashu: I mean, it’s all useless isn’t it? She won’t come back no matter what I do.

Kashu: You must think so too, don’t you?

Hina: Sensei…

Kashu: Thank you, for holding back on my account. I’m sure you must have wanted to say it.

Kashu: And thank you for playing along with me…

Hina: Erm…?

Hina: (He’s acting strangely… and he sounds really sad…)

Kashu: Also, I realized something..

Kashu: If I can’t revive her, then all I have to do is to join her on the other side.

Hina: W-What!? But she’s already…

Kashu: Yup, so all I have to do is to die. Simple, isn’t it?

Hina: What are you talking about!? You can’t do that! That’s stupid!

Kashu: ……

Kashu: Come on now, don’t say that.

Kashu: I mean… that’s the last option I have. It’s so lonely living alone like this…

Hina: Kashu-sensei! Wait… Hang on!

Kashu: For my last hoorah, perhaps the school would be best. I’m thinking of jumping off the roof there.

Kashu: Hehe, this school was pretty fun while it lasted.

Hina: Hey! Listen to me!

Hina: If it really was that fun, then wouldn’t you want to live!? You can still turn around now!

Kashu: It was fun, but also lonely. It is so lonely being all by your lonesome, you know?

Hina: You’re not alone! You know that, don’t you!?

Hina: Please, just consider those around you! Don’t say that you want to die…

Kashu: I’ve already made my decision.

Hina: You can’t do it! Sensei!

Kashu: I’m really happy that you helped me out with all my experiments.

Kashu: I really did feel a little less lonely during those times. I even thought that perhaps I wasn’t that alone in this world.

Kashu: So, thank you.

Hina: !!!

Hina: Sensei? Sensei! Kashu-sensei!? He hung up on me!!!

Hina: (I can’t just sit back and do nothing… I need to get to school and stop him!)

Mother: Eh!? W-Where are you going in the middle of the night!?

Hina: School! I need to get there, now!!!

Mother: Huh? Take care on your way there, you hear me!?

———————————————

Hina: Haa, haa, haah…!

Hina: (Since when was the school this far away!?)

Hina: (I don’t know if I’ll make it at this rate… Please let me be there in time!)

Hina: ……!?

Hina: D-Don’t tell me…

Hina: (I’ve gotta hurry!!!)

[otakween]

Digimon Tamers - Episode 13

Whelp I guess they used up all the budget for episode 12 because this one was really bad. Like unpleasant to watch at times bad. You can't tell from my screenshots, but most of this episode was composed of still images, extreme close ups, and lazy silhouettes. Oh well, this is just the nature of these older, long-ish shows.

Notes:

So from the opening shot I knew this was gonna be a rough one. An overly long silhouetted battle between Guilmon and...some other digimon they didn't feel like animating properly lol. The shot that annoyed me the most though was the scene where Takato is talking with his teacher and the camera is zoomed out on their basically still bodies. Takato's teacher is frozen in this unnatural pose with her hand on her face for waaaay too long. I was like "MOVE!" There was a similar shot at Jian's family's dinner table where one of his sisters was frozen, smiling at the screen while everyone else was moving. These are the things I notice as an adult lol. Really takes you out of it.

Since there was so little animation, this episode compensated with a lot of talk with HYPNOS rambling on about their latest plans. I had to keep rewinding because there was a lot of jargon and I would zone out because there was nothing to look at on screen. The worst offender was the "Zoom call" (I know Zoom wasn't a thing) between the main HYPNOS dude and his colleagues. I thought maybe the images on screen were supposed to be profile photos because they didn't move, but then they moved slightly! Were those supposed to be live videos?? Was one guy just in "swinging-a-golf-club" pose for like 10 minutes straight? They should have just kept them still at that point...

The writing for Asanuma-sensei is so weird. She tells Takato that she thinks she "made a mistake" becoming a teacher. Uh...TMI! You don't say that to your 10 year old student! And then Takato agrees with her, which was so shady lol. I guess I wasn't wrong when I said she sounded dead inside.

Juri's Guilmon doodle was adorable. Glad she's sticking up for Takato. I like her little dog puppet, but can't help but feel if she did that IRL she'd get bullied :/

I really don't like the HYPNOS ladies. Their jobs are just too vague and they don't really have personalities. They always look off-model too.

So...main HYPNOS guy is racist?? Suggesting that Jian's family should pronounce their names the JAPANESE way. Geez. You don't see racism brought up too often in anime unless it's fantasy racism, so I found that interesting. Since their names were Americanized in the dub, I guess its probably left out.

So Jian's dad was one of the creators of Digimon like Oikawa? I didn't see that coming. Definitely the most intriguing revelation of the episode. If he knows about Digimon then...wouldn't he realize that Terriermon is one?

Impmon telling Culumon that his "culu culu" gimmick is annoying was satisfying not gonna lie lol. I want to see more of the two of them together.

Chinese characters always seem to have big families in anime. I guess that's the stereotype in Japan. Seems weird to me because of the old "one child" policy, but what do I know? (I guess Chinese immigrants in Japan would be a different story).

Sooo...mysterious ending with Terriermon acting hypnotized (haha HYPNOS...get it?) Kind of alarming since he was smacking into the window. I was struggling to digest the explanation but I think HYPNOS is baiting the digimon so that they can destroy them?

We get some hint of a potential big bad because one of the enemy digimon mentions his "God..." They're sure taking their time to cut to the chase with this one.

[elegyofdionysus]

A HEART THAT THAWS

Summary : Whichever way you looked at it, one thing was for sure; it had not gone how you had planned. Granted it hadn’t been the best plan to begin with. Initially you thought you’d rock up to the Avengers compound, enlist their help to bring down the evil organization and then go, “Also I’m your daughter from a one-night stand you probably forgot about.” Yeah, that would have turned out great. Totally wouldn’t have been disastrous at all.

Pairing: TONY STARK x DAUGHTER READER

CHAPTER I

Meet the parent

 You stood outside the doors of the giant facility and stared up its length right to top where the giant AVENGERS sign stared right back at you. Taking a deep you marched through lobby up to the front desk. A woman, pretty and blond, stood behind it and lifted a finger at you signalling for you to wait while she finished her call. You played with the handle of your satchel draped across your chest and bounced back and forth on the balls of your feet, your eyes fleeting across every person and surface of the lobby. It was very clean and futuristic, cold almost clinical, exactly how you imagined a high tec science facility would be.

“Hi, welcome to the Avengers compound how can I help you,” the blonde asked drawing your attention back to her now that she’d ended the call.

“Hello, I’m here to see Tony Stark.”

The probably plastic smile on her face (it was way too early on a Monday morning for anyone to be ‘not grumpy’) faltered and her grey eyes scanned you up and down, probably wondering what business a seventeen-year-old would have with the most well-known high-profile billionaire in New York, America and possibly the world.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No.”

“Then I’m sorry. Mister Stark is very busy and I’m afraid I can’t let you see him without an appointment,” she said, feigning a sympathetic look.

“Do you know when he’ll be free,” your voice was slightly strained and clipped. Katherine, you noted from her name tag, was starting to get on your nerves.

“No, I don’t handle his schedule,” she replied shortly, like it was something you should already know.

“Well, I’d really appreciate it if you talked to someone who does and find out for me.” She opened her mouth, probably to say something to deter you from your goal so you interrupted her before she could. “I’ll just wait over there.” And you walked over to the waiting area and took a seat before she could get another word out. You sighed and took your phone out of your satchel. You were going to be here for hours. Oh well, at least the chairs weren’t too uncomfortable and the WIFI was free.

_________________________    

You’d been right. It was now after three in the afternoon and you’d been here since eight. Your phone was dead and even though the chairs were more comfortable than you’d expected from a waiting room your butt was getting sore. At least you had the sense to buy yourself some lunch and pack a snack and a book to keep you occupied this morning. Katherine had tried to get you to leave a couple times saying Mister Stark will be busy all day. To which you had replied, “Listen Katherine, can I call you Katherine, I have a very delicate, very urgent, matter that I need to discuss with Mister Stark. I can not leave here until I have talked to him.” You’d hoped that the desperation in your eyes conveyed the urgency of the matter and apparently it had because she came back half an hour later (Mister Stark will see you now) and escorted you to the elevator and up to the higher floors

It suddenly became harder to breath like all the air in the elevator had been sucked out by a vacuum. It was when you were five years old and your teacher told your class to make Father’s Day cards that you began questioning, you went home that day and asked your mother about him. She’d brushed you off, told you it wasn’t important and that you should ask her again when she wasn’t busy. Except she’d said it a lot less kindly. Wounded you walked away and only found the courage to ask again when you were thirteen.  With tears in your eyes, sobs racking your body she’d had mercy and told you the truth. He hadn’t cared. He hadn’t wanted you and they’d both agreed to part ways and for him to not be part of your lives. She’d said it had been for the best.

Ever since then you had dreamt about this moment. What it would be like when you finally got to meet him. Where you would meet him. Would the connection be instant, like that missing piece of a puzzle slotting into place? Would he look at you and know instantly that it had been a mistake to walk away from you all those years ago? Take you into his arms and apologize for ever making you feel like you weren’t worth enough to stick around for? Or would he be reaffirmed in his decision to leave? Glad he got out while he still could? Look at you with distain or pity and then turn away from you once again?

Your mind was reeling, running almost as fast as Katherine’s brisk walk down the hall. You wished she would slow down, it would slow down. Give you a chance to catch your breath, change your mind, walk away and preserve your normalcy. You needed more time. You weren’t ready to have a life altering moment. You didn’t look the part. You should have worn a dress, something more formal than your white graphic tee and black tennis skirt. You definitely regretted the fishnets and doc martens. Would heels have been overkill? Maybe you should have styled your hair differently, in a nice bun instead of letting the bushy curls cascade around your face. You’d thought it framed your face nicely, made it look less round, but now you wonder if it just made you look unkempt. The soft e-girl makeup was the only thing you were sure about. There was just something about sharp eyeliner and dazzling highlighter that made you feel powerful, that felt like armour.

“Right through there,” Katherine directed, pointing at the double doors to your right. She turned, presumably returning to her post to continue politely sneering at people. You almost wished she’d walk in with you.

You could make a break for it. You’d make it out the lobby in less than ten minutes.

You sighed. You really couldn’t. This was bigger than you. If you didn’t do this no one else would. No one else could. It had to be you.

Another deep breath. You attempted to flatten your curls, calm the hum of nerves buzzing beneath your skin and then you knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

You pushed it open expecting to find a desk, maybe a couple of shelves, possibly rich people shit (you know like those golf thingies). Like a regular office. What you weren’t expecting was a huge lounge area and a bunch of the avengers sitting around like…well normal people.

As you walked in all eyes were on you.  You froze. “Wow you’re all here.” You said it quietly to yourself. For a milli-second you stood there awkwardly but you swallowed your nerves and crossed the threshold. “Hi, I’m Amelia Harris,” you introduced out of habit and you swore internally. You’d planned to introduce yourself by your real name.  

Before you could correct yourself however, Captain Rogers who, along with Thor, had stood up the moment you entered, smiled at you. “Steve Rogers. Good to meet you.” You held out your hand and he shook it. Calloused yet gentle and firm, and as warm as his smile.

“Good to meet you too. I’m here for Mister Stark.”

“He’s on a phone call, should be right out.” A brunette you didn’t recognize offered. “Maria Hill,” she prompted. You shook her hand as well.

Thor gave it a shake too and you tried hard not to swoon, you could barely meet his eyes. His handshake was firmer than Steve’s but no less gentle and warm. Dr. Banner gave you a wave from his spot, standing by the wall sized window.  

You smiled and waved at Agent Barton, too intimidated to go any closer. The frown on his face and arrows in his hands didn’t make him look too friendly. Yet he looked far more approachable than Agent Romanov who was laying on the couch laid back and casual but somehow still the picture of grace and elegance. She gave you a nod in acknowledgement and you’re surprised you didn’t faint. Black Widow had just acknowledged your existence.

Before you could fangirl uncontrollably, the man of the hour Tony Stark walked in. Your heart hammered in your chest, all the blood rushed down your body and pooled at your feet, air left your lungs and all you could do was stare.

Please don’t barf all over his undoubtedly expensive, probably Italian leather shoes.

As soon as the thought occurred to you, your stomach lurched and you doubled over emptying the contents right onto said leather shoes with a horrific “grrhhh.”

Fan-fucking-tastic. Just awesome.

In a second, Steve was at your side, making sure you were okay but you couldn’t respond to his kindness, being too preoccupied resisting the urge to sink through the floor with embarrassment.  The look of thinly veiled disgust on Tony Starks face was just the icing on top of this beautiful moment.

Before you could apologize you felt a new wave of nausea rise and you heaved.

“Bathroom’s that way,” Dr Banner directed helpfully.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror. This hasn’t been a disaster at all. In fact, it was going extremely well. Apart from the fact that you just blew chunks all over Tony Stark’s shoes within the first two seconds of meeting him. Great first impression. Yeah, the Turkey sandwich had been a mistake. But at least it hadn’t been an egg sandwich like the lady at the sandwich shop had suggested.

You should probably get out of here and face the fallout of your poultry outburst. Standing in a bathroom staring at yourself, wishing you had the power of invisibility so you could walk out without anyone seeing was unproductive. With one final look at the mirror to ensure that there weren’t any chunks in your hair (there weren’t) you walked out. Only to find the room slightly more crowded than when you left it. Two security guards posed at the door and a nervous-looking Katherine standing in the middle of it. To be fair to her, she was being reprimanded by her boss.

“It’s too early in the year for meet and greets,” Tony was saying.

“She said she had something important to tell you-,” Katherine tried to explain but you interrupted her before she could finish.

 “I’m not a fan,” everyone turned to look at you, you flushed, “I mean I’m not not a fan,” a few eyebrows raised (from Tony, Agent Barton and Maria Hill). “Look I’m not here on fan club business or whatever, I’m here because I need your help.” You walked over to the satchel you had tossed on the floor in your haste to spare Tony Stark’s suit from a new vomit coloured dye job and pulled out a flash drive. “A few hundred lives are at stake and if we don’t put a stop to it the whole world could be in danger.” Even if it might be too late.

With the attention now off of her, Katherine took this opportunity to slink off out the room, the two guards behind her.

“We,” Steve questioned? You ignored him.

Dr Banner walked over and held his hand out for the drive. You handed it to him. “It’s all encrypted and I’m not a techy person,” you shrugged, apologising for your own incompetence.

“They’re a group called Allaxis. They kidnap children and experiment on them.” That last part did what you hoped it would. Suddenly everyone sat or stood a little straighter, and listened more intently.

“Experiment?” Agent Romanoff probed, an edge to her voice.

“Genetic modification. They’re trying to make- “

“-Super soldiers?” The original super soldier sounded tired. You imagined he would be. The number of times you’d overheard whispers of a new super serum, or plans to replicate the first one. A super army was the cool new toy all the baddies wanted to have. There was something else in his voice though, unwavering determination. You’d only just met him but you imagined defeat was a suit he rarely ever wore. Suddenly you were more confident in your decision to come here.

“Something like that, only with kids as guinea pigs. As far as I know they haven’t been successful. But that was a couple of years ago. A lot could have changed since then.”

“Did you go to the cops with this?”

You were hesitant to say no lest you disappoint Captain Rogers by not following proper protocol. “No. I don’t trust the cops; I only trust you. You’re the Avengers. Earth’s mightiest heroes. You stand up for what’s right because-“

“Because that’s what heroes do,” Thor boomed. You’d almost forgotten he was there. How you could forget the presence of such a captivating and alluring being was beyond you.  (Okay, so you had a crush on Thor? He’s a god and he looks like one. And seeing as most of the teen girls and some teen boys on the internet sites you frequent shared your feelings, it wasn’t out of the ordinary. It was actually, unfortunately, the most normal thing about you.) To be fair, he had been content nursing a pint of beer and watching the back and forth.

“Yes,” you smiled dopily (He’s very dazzling).

“Alright kid, we’ll look into it.”

 “Thank you, Mr Stark.” You were being sincere. “Thank you,” you said looking at Steve.

“It’s what we’re here for ma’am.”

With all that settled, you excused yourself and started the long trek home. That could’ve gone better, but on the other hand it could’ve gone worse. The barf could’ve hit his face instead of his shoes. So small wins, you guess.

Whichever way you looked at it, one thing was for sure; it had not gone how you had planned. Granted it hadn’t been the best plan to begin with. Initially you thought you’d rock up to the Avengers compound, enlist their help to bring down the evil organization and then go, “Also I’m your daughter from a one-night stand you probably forgot about.” Yeah, that would have turned out great. Totally wouldn’t have been disastrous at all.

You’ll tell him the truth eventually, you reassured yourself, for now that was enough excitement for one day.

[sichore]

[I haven't written in years and bam - 1200 words off the dome of whatever idea I've got rattling around.

Pickles goes to the ocean.]

As usual, Pickles is pulled from sleep by a dull throb in his head and in his groin. Try as he might to ignore it, he can't ignore instinct: he has to piss.

With a groan, he opens his eyes and stumbles from the beach chair and over various passed out bodies strewn across the sand to find some place to empty his bladder. Which ends up being some decor half destroyed by whatever the guys were up to a few hours ago. Whatever.

It's the dead of night. All he can make out is the blue of the sand, and the black of the sea beyond. If it wasn't for the crashing waves, he'd think he was looking out into the abyss.

The abyss, and - he blinks a few times, his squinting, blurry vision focusing on a figure in the ocean.

That's -

"Oh! Hey! Heyyyyyy!"

His need to go out there overrides the seed of panic in his gut, as he sprints across the beach with about as much grace as a newborn foal taking its first steps. Stumbling, tripping, he hardly falters once he breaks water, wading until he reaches them.

The [scribe].

No, wait, that's what Nathan keeps calling her, when she's not a journalist or whatever. Right. She's an art teacher. Toki's tutor. [Painter].

… why was her name not coming to mind? Whatever. Not important, clearly.

"Hey, what're you - you, uh, okay out here?"

"Hey," she greets him, casual as ever, like she's not standing in the middle of the goddamn ocean. "I'm all right. No freaking out or deep, soul-wrenching breakdown this time."

She's just standing there, looking out at fuck knows what - everything to the horizon and back is complete darkness. Onyx. Ebony. Blacker than the blackest black times infinity.

She turns her head to look at him finally, her round glasses flashing with the movement. Her lips move and - he's not sure any sound comes out. Her mouth doesn't form his name and yet he recognizes it all the same, spoken with a familiarity and acceptance that feels dangerously close to affection. Pickles.

"I think it's happening," she says, like it's the most obvious announcement in the world.

"Uh… dude, there's nothing going on," Pickles replies, feeling sick as he says it.

"Yeah you do. You know, this. Us. Whatever we're supposed to do." She shrugs, and Pickles realizes he hasn't stopped looking her over. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. Her dark curls as usual are pulled up and spilling over and around her face, like she hasn't been to bed. Starlight catches on her brown skin, shimmering, silver, then gold. The corner of her full lips quirks - she's trying not to laugh.

"Cut that out. Look."

He Looks.

Stars glimmer and shine beneath their bare feet. Pickles wriggles his toes and he swears that a nebula swells in response. They're everywhere. Galaxies unfurl and sway in the cosmic breeze and stars twinkle and shine and burn and die. He can't look away from the radiant giant of a far off planet, long dead. There's an explosion frozen in time, blooming and swirling cosmic dust blessing the birth of a new star that cries out, wailing, ringing -

He hears…

He hears -

"Ohhh shit…"

He grasps her shoulder; she's freezing, scorching under his grip. His eyes dart around even though he doesn't see so much as feel Them.

He's not high enough for this shit and tonight they're fucking loud, and he can't ignore them, can't get away, can't -

"It's okay." Pickles can't tell if she's talking to him or not. She's holding herself, nails digging into her arms, and without the glasses her brown eyes are - are black, too. Fuck. "I-it's okay."

"Is it?!" Pickles shrieks. "How can you be so calm with this - this cosmic mumbo jumbo bullshit going on? Oh my god. Oh my god, I - I need a drink. Fuck." His hand shakes as it runs through his dreads, thinking this is the worst time to have a panic attack where he can't hide from Their Song, dick and balls out for the world to see like this is some hentai -

"We're gonna be okay." She's speaking, her voice resonating into infinity. Huh. He didn't think the universe would have great acoustics. "We're - what? What do you know about hentai?"

"How would I not know about it?"

"You barely use the computer!"

"Wh - And? I've been around! I've seen old tapes and shit!"

"I just thought it was a bit past your time-"

"Yer not that much younger than me!"

"Oh, my god. Whatever. That's beside the point." She waves her hands and finally turns to face him, and for a moment, he's distracted from the inky black dancing in her eyes.

"... Huh, so it's two snakes on yer tits-"

"Pickles." She's claps her hands before her face and takes a deep breath, like she's praying for the strength to deal with his bullshit. She wouldn't be the first one, he thinks bitterly. "Stop that. Focus. I want to be here."

"Do you really? And how come you can hear me but I can't hear you? That ain't fair!"

"I don't know, you're loud as hell here and I can't turn it off. Look!" Her hands frame his face suddenly, more of a double-slap than a caress. Pickles stills.

Everything goes quiet, blessedly so, and calm washes over him. It's not dreadful this time. There's the universe, and there's him. Breathing in time with the rise and fall of the Great Breath.

"Oh, hey, that's…. That's kinda nice."

"Yeah," she agrees, and despite the nameless dread lapping at his mind he finds himself staring at her face. Her hair loose and waving in the current. Eyes rich like fine whiskey and summer afternoons. Nose wide and nostrils flaring as she stifles another laugh, but she's smiling. Like really smiling, not awkward and forced. Their secret. He promises not to tell. "Freaky, but nice."

"So, uh, now what?" 

"I dunno. We listen, then… do what we do best? What we have to do. Or something."

"Like what, pop a Perc, smoke a bowl? Freaky sex?"

"I - what? No. What? I mean, uh, another time, maybe. No, like, there's something bigger going on."

"Uh huh." He's not sure when he starts holding her hands, but here he is. Idly rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles. "Is… is this the end?"

"No." She shakes her head, which is something to witness underwater. Stars fall from her curls - or embers. "It's the beginning. Just don't mind the tentacles."

"Yeeeeah, I dunno about that."

"And don't look down."

Of course, he looks down. The last place he needs to look when he feels Their tendrils beckoning, slipping down his spine - and himself reaching in turn, with his brain. Or something. Is his mind literally expanding? Shit.

There's heat coming from somewhere. Everywhere. A distant flame that he knows is an inferno. And beneath his feet, a planet looms. He stands above it as a moon, a satellite, space debris and sky hawk all at once. He sees clouds form and waves churn. He feels the Deep, reaching up to call him home.

Pickles' stomach drops as he plummets.

[datomis]

ok im just gonna post some stuff from my notebook sketchbook because i never post them

most of this is gonna be yagyu au because i love it dearly (idk if ive said the name here before but i mentioned an au a while ago this is the same thing)

iris az the face of this post :3

hitomi and hayato from the yagyu au !!!! hitomi is a teacher at bibis school (not her teacher, but shes in the same class as iris and they became friends and then bibi met hitomi through iris and then hayato met her through that but then they PROPERLY meet similarly to the game and become friends (or more 😆))

also mentioning bibi when i introduced the yagyu au a while ago there was some funny stuff abt mizuki and bibis names and i wanted to come up with a good solution so i couldnt so bibi is just like. its just her name now 😭 but jsyk

baby mibuki!!!! in this world where she doesnt get punished for being the cutest thing ever, shes a lot happier and smilier and shes very attached to hayato. she always wants to be held. always!!!!!!

also the bottom right um.. i asked my twin what to draw and he just said her playing dead. i dont remember if theres context

soo basically bibi and kizuna meet in highschool and shes really scared of her and starts lying that her and iris are sisters and their parents are divorced and blah blah blah. bibi wants to sound the least adopted as possible so kizuna doesnt suspect that shes one of the kids who went missing from aioen, as she doesnt want hayato to get in any trouble and doesnt want her and mizuki to be separated from him

small break from yagyu au, i like to imagine a world in which saito cares about his baby sister. he absolutely does not in canon but that will not stop me!!

so just little hair and clothes swap. and a little bset teehee

and right back to the au, with bibi and boss :D boss is the girls' cool auntie who sometimes babysits them and always brings them presents and stuff. she also cannot say something normal when hayato calls to check in. i just remembered that one steven universe scene where dr maheshwaren calls garnet and garnets like. theyre playing with swords. oh no theyre dead. (i dont remember exactly how it goes but if u watched su you know LMAO)

ANDYWAYS im done i hope you enoured oh wait before i go i wanna mention that yesterday i did a minecraft danganronpa roleplay and i was iris bc my skin is iris and bro they thought she was my oc but i couldnt tell them i just stole her from another spike chunsoft game anyways and then she died. so yeah ok now bye

[no-phrogs-in-hats]

If I Could Turn Back Time

Larissa Weems x Fem!Reader

A/N: This fic is cross-posted on Wattpad and Ao3

Chapter 5

Standing at the register of the smallest Dairy Queen I have ever seen in my life, Larissa and I looked up at the menu, trying to decide on what to order. 

After deciding to share a basket of chicken tenders and being teased by Larissa for being, as she called it, “a picky eater”, we went up to the cashier.

The boy working the register looked at me and smiled, an obvious blush forming on her cheeks. “So,” he smirked, “what can I get for you tonight? I recommend your phone number.”

I scoffed at his pick-up line but smiled back, by far the smoothest one I’ve ever been told–especially from someone who can’t be older than 16. As I opened my mouth to respond, I barely got to voice a single word before Larissa cut in. Her hand went to my lower back as her voice lowered, an obvious bite as she answered for me. “We’ll be sharing a basket of chicken tenders, please.”

I stood frozen, looking from Larissa to the boy, and back to Larissa again. The boy stood there with cheeks brighter than a tomato as he cleared his throat. “Right…would you like fries with that?”

“Yes,” Larissa said. 

“Any fountain drinks?”

“Yes,’ she said again.

“Can I interest you in any of…um…our blizzards?” he asked, his voice shaking.

Larissa looked down at me and her hand was still on my back. “Would you like anything, darling?”

“Um…” My train of thought had completely derailed. Every car was on its side. 20 dead. 10 injured. Completely up in flames. “...No, I think I’m good for now.” I pulled out my debit card and began to hand it to the cashier.

“Oh, no, darling, I’ll pay for it.” Larissa smiled at me and turned her attention back to the boy at the register, taking her own card out and handing it to him. “We’re eating in.”

“Can I get a name for the order?” he asked.

“Larissa,” she responded curtly as he handed her debit card back to her.

We stood off to the side waiting for her name to be called, and when it was, the boy handed us the chicken tenders along with our empty cups. I thanked him and gave Larissa’s cup to her before filling mine.

It was only when we chose our table that she removed her hand. A sighed as I slid into the booth, smiling softly as we settled. “So…”

“What?” Larissa’s words were already muffled as she stuffed her face with chicken. 

“What was that?” I asked, reaching for the ketchup.

Larissa shifted her eyes left and right before looking at me. “What was what?” After I stared at her expectedly, she dropped the facade, sighing. “I’m sorry…I just…I don’t know. I guess I just got defensive.”

“Defensive?” I asked, my eyebrows raised in shock. “Defensive about what?”

“Well,” she began, “he was obviously a teenager. And unless he’s homeschooled, he must be an idiot to not know you’re a literal teacher at Jericho High School. And, not to mention, he’s completely out of your league. He doesn’t deserve you. And you deserve someone a lot better than some 16-year-old who thinks with his dick and not his brain.”

I scoffed incredulously, following it with a short laugh. 

“But, still, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. We hardly know each other. I had no right to do–”

I cut her off as she rambled on, my hand over hers. “Larissa, it’s alright,” I chuckled. “You had good intentions. You were just protecting me.” A soft smile formed on her face as I pulled my hand away. “Now, don’t eat all the chicken tenders. I’m starving.”

Half an hour later, we sat in the car, parked outside of my townhouse, eating Blizzards.

“I don’t think I’ve met anyone clumsier than you,” Larissa giggled.

I laughed back, taking a bite of the ice cream. “And I don’t think I’ve met anyone who dresses nicer than you. I felt completely underdressed when we went out tonight.”

The look of her smile and the sound of her giggles felt like basking in the pure light of a newly risen sun. I don’t think the thought of this woman–so refined, so gentle and kind–would ever escape my thoughts.

“(Y/N), it’s alright. You look absolutely gorgeous–even with a broken nose.” Her jest sent a blush rushing through my cheeks, and I was thankful it was dark enough for her to not notice.

I groaned. “I still can’t believe I did that. I’m gonna walk into my classroom on Monday and my students are going to plague me with questions. I cannot tell them the true story. This has to stay between you and me.”

“Deal,” she said, taking another bite. “How about…you say that you got into a gang fight. You got a bit roughed up, but you managed to run them out.”

I let out a loud laugh at her suggestion. “Oh, they wouldn’t believe that for a second! All they see me as is someone who rambles on about historical events that only a few people actually care about. I swear, there’s probably only about five students who have grasped the lesson on the Russian Revolution. But all of the students try. And no matter what their grade is, I’m proud of them for trying. A lot of my students come from bad homes, so I try to help them as best as possible.”

Larissa listens to me with genuine interest–something no one had ever shown me before. She smiled when I stopped and she took a breath. “The world needs more teachers like you, (Y/N). Those students are very lucky to have you.”

I had no clue what to say. There were very few people in this world who recognized my teaching, and for Larissa to be one of them truly made my heart full. 

“I was wondering, actually,” she continued. “One of our teachers unfortunately couldn’t come back this year. And, coincidentally, he taught history. Would you be interested in the position?”

I paused to contemplate what she just said. “Well, it’s certainly a different type of teaching. I suppose I’d have to brush up on outcast history.”

“Well, think about it,” she said. “Take as long as you need. It’s a big decision, and I’m here when you do decide.”

“Thank you.” I smiled back at her before glancing at my phone. “Oh, Jesus! It’s nearly midnight! My cat’s probably starving.”

“You have a cat?” she asked.

“Yeah, his name is Gingie…like from Shrek.” 

There was a brief pause before Larissa burst out laughing. “I think that it is so fitting for someone like you!”

“Someone like me?” I reeled in mock offense. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know!” she laughed. “It’s just so silly, and that’s very fitting for you.”

I pursed my lips, trying to suppress a smile. “Fine. I’ll take it as a compliment then.” After she catches her breath, I sigh. “But I really should go. It’s getting late.” I open the door, taking both mine and Larissa’s empty cups and get out. “Larissa, thank you…for tonight. I had a lot of fun. Goodnight.” And with a smile and a ‘goodnight’ from Larissa, I shut the door and climb the stairs, watching from my window as she drives off into the night.

[disregardcanon]

Toh npmd au for my own personal amusement

First thing’s first: character assignments 

Amity as Steph 

Luz as Pete 

Willow and Gus as Ruth and Richie

Boscha as Max 

Hunter as Grace 

Odalia and Belos both as parts of Mayor Lauter

Setting details: it’s still in Gravesfield, CT which still has its same Puritan vs witches branding. The mascot is a pilgrim and that IS Gus in the suit. Who has more school spirit than Augustus Porter? (No one.) 

So a few changes I’m making to make the toh cast slot a bit easier into the framework 

Belos is a fundamentalist preacher who’s raising his “niece”. Yes he DID kill Caleb and Charlotte. No one knows tho. It was lords in black related. Does that make it better? eh

Hunter is trans masc and a TOTAL egg. Right now, he’s a very enthusiastic little warrior for purity culture. Yes, he’s trying to get the dance canceled, YES he’s bullied a lot for being a “nerdy prude”. Not gonna dead name him but. He wouldn’t realize he’s a guy until significantly after the events of this musical 

Luz has NOT been in amity’s class since the 1st grade. She only moved here a year ago

Amity is still the mayor’s daughter and she and Boscha used to date. Amity’s stopped actively bullying people after they broke up and she’s felt like, guilty about it, but she’s never seen how much more.. Physical? Boscha’s bullying got than hers did. Sure, Amity was a queen of psychological warfare, but she never beat people up in the parking lot. 

Luz moves to Gravesfield during her junior year of high school. Amity and Boscha on the cusp of breaking up, so things are changing in their social hierarchy. For one, Amity is backing away from bullying and the spotlight and for two Boscha is getting WORSE. She when Luz moves in and aligns herself with “half-a-woman Willow” and Steve Urkel.. She’s thrown to the bottom of the school hierarchy immediately. Looney Lulu is what comes to mind first. 

Enter Boscha: literal monster, best quarterback in the school’s history and the first girl (she works that angle as hard as she can), and QUEEN of the school. She’s amity’s ex and like… mainly over her. 

Okay, who are we kidding? She’s not over her. Not at all. Boscha decides to put all her “trying to make amity jealous and take me back” energy into seducing amity’s least favorite student: local nerdy prude, preacher’s “niece” wittebane. 

Hunter and amity do NOT get along. At all. They’re duking it out for the valedictorian spot, their respective guardians are pitting them against each other, and they both just find the other… insufferable. 

So trying to bag the “girl” who’s the forbidden fruit and maybe making amity mad enough to take her back with it too? It’s worth a try, at least. 

Amity, meanwhile, is failing theater. She’s getting very frustrated and flustered and asks luz to be her scene partner so maybe she doesn’t fall on her ass. Luz is nervous because this is Amity Blight, super cool girl who used to be very mean to willow and now isn’t really a bully but is just? Way cooler than they are? Amity’s able to talk her into it. 

The teacher heaps a LOT of praise onto them and their chemistry and promises them good grades in the future if they keep working with each other. This leads to amity calling luz and trying to set up the pasqualli’s date. 

Boscha, meanwhile, is cornering hunter near the gym where he’s protesting the concept of dancing. He gets freaked out when boscha starts getting very very flirty and he gets really flustered because? Girl? Girl flirt with me? Also a girl? Hahahaha NO I AM NOT GAY I AM NOT- and he’s having a little sexuality crisis. Willow, who’s done putting up with boscha’s shit right here in the school building, hurls a waterbottle across the room in between them. 

Hunter SPRINTS away because OH BOY I WAS EXPERIENCING SOMETHING STRANGE AND UNWELCOME NO THANK YOU NO THANK YOU- and then he finds out that newly buff and gaining more confidence willow is the one who saved him. And she’s just like oh yeah anytime. No one should corner other people like that. And his little heart is going bEEPBEEPBEEEP BEEEEEEEEEEPPP and the rest of his body is not calming down either, ya know? 

Unwanted sexual attractions experienced by local nerdy prude today: 2. Fantasies experienced in the bathtub: 2 very, very different ones in a single sequence. 

Luz gets the shit kicked out of her at pasqualli’s because she runs into boscha before she finds amity and she’s like no i’m not gonna cower AMITY BLIGHT INVITED ME HERE! And. that. DOES NOT GO WELL 

Willow is ready to go to war over this when they get to school the next morning because she WARNED luz that amity wasn’t to be trusted and look? Look what happened! And luz is like yeah you also said i should stand up for myself- and willow’s like husssshhh. 

They plan a prank in the bathroom that goes very poorly. Hunter writes gus a detention slip for being in the girls’ bathroom (he should have written himself one too!) and then they prank the shit out of Boscha. 

To the point she. You know. Dies. then they have to dismember her at hunter’s urging! Hooray!!!!

Cue peace and love at the high school :) until poor gus dies. I’m sorry dude! You’re the mascot you were cursed. Of course the quarterback was going after you first. 

Boscha goes after luz second because she’s the dweeb who thought that she could steal boscha’s girl. Luckily for luz and amity both, they were together at this point and they RUN as fast as they can. Luz demands they go find willow because she’s probably the next victim, and they find her mid-boscha kill. She lost an arm because boscha was trying to take the “half-a-” thing to its logical, puny extreme. They rush her off to the hospital. The police come to question them. 

And then pastor wittebane comes with hunter in tow. He pulls something with the police about the parks wanting him to perform a protestant equivalent of anointing of the sick on their ailing daughter. 

Pastor wittebane very clearly knows what happened. 

“I thought you were gonna keep the beans cool!” Amity demands. 

“I couldn’t,” hunter tells her. 

“Fucking useless, wittebane,” amity mutters. 

Pastor wittebane glares at all of them. “You are going to get in my car and come with me.” 

“That sounds bad,” luz says, “my mom told me to never be one on one with religious officials.” 

“Fine,” he says, “if you’d like to be the next victim, be my guest.” 

They all get in the car, except Willow, who’s bed-bound. (Luckily, since she’s already in the hospital, boscha thinks of her as less of a kill count priority.) 

Belos takes them out ot the middle of the woods and makes them dig up the black book. Then boscha kills him! We DO get boscha killing belos, so i think that’s a win. They flee the scene, run into some cops, then make it to the high school to complete the ritual. 

We’ve got amity, luz, and hunter on the floor of the gym summoning the evil teletubbies. The evil teletubbies REALLY want amity to kill luz. They get to have their cool as i think i am reprise <3 and then the bullet leaves the gun and boscha catches it. Because she is very, very excited to do luz in personally. She’s still debating whether or not she’s gonna end amity, but luz IS going to die. In front of amity. For absolutely certain. 

Boscha’s getting ready to take care of another nerdy prude when hunter bursts out like HELLO YES! I AM READY TO HAVE THE SEXUAL INTERCOURSE! And boscha’s just like… whut? And then he gets very flirty and goes along with the stuff that she was saying earlier, and he’s.. Legit into it. Sure, flirting with hunter was half to spite amity, but she’s still very turned on by the idea of corrupting the perfect angel church girl into having hot and heavy sex with her on the football field. And making amity watch? That’s a bonus. Maybe she’ll get a threesome out of it. 

Hunter sends boscha to hell with the power of his jesus freak virginity, luz and amity have sixteen different crises, and willow lives to hear the whole crazy tale. Luz and willow mourn gus, hunter goes through the weird process of mourning his uncle while also realizing he’s glad that the guy’s gone and gets to know the shoulder ANGEL part of the shoulder angel and shoulder devil fantasy he was experiencing, and amity hides the book away in her own personal safe to try to keep it away from bad actors. 

It doesn’t keep it safe from mayor odalia blight, but… that’s not going to be that big of a deal.. Right? RIGHT?!?!?!

[evergreen-dryad]

I don't know how to feel over all these strange fantasy names when it's supposed to be fantasy china (and Japan nearby). I would like annotations

it does directly copy and paste some stuff from China's history / Sun Tzu / strategist stuff

you can tell someone's important if they have a name from myth: eg Nezha, Jiang Ziya, Su Daji (femme fatale) There are some references to Journey to the West in some of the Cike/Bizarre Children but not direct borrowings- Baji (Zhu Bajie), Aratsha (Sha Wujing), Suni (Sun Wukong)

It's very readable (as YA tends to be). It's a more fast paced harry potter so far. I'm speeding through it a lot ngl.

Highlights: (wait there's no underline here still??)

- Rin beating Nezha (it's 2-1 so far but just Rin beating everyone up in the Tournament despite being excluded discriminatorily from class)

(And then them both working together like a well-oiled machine in the war!)

And oh, she turned out to be the last speerly! I think it works and also does introduce more tension over where to put her in terms of politics and all that, but I am also praying Altan doesn't die (I feel like he WILL) (and HE DID)

From what I remember of Babel (same author) -- well, there's the historical accuracy that doesn't deviate much, there's also the nostalgic romanticism of school (a safe and beautiful place with towers and pagodas, but also bittersweet with its bullies and racism) and having to work hard af (what a chinese thing tbh), wanting to excel There's the all-important teacher-student relationship and what knowledge does

Foreshadowing: where Runin was burning herself to study more for the Keju Exam, it ends up being foreshadowing for the god she'll call down -- the Phoenix. You watch her determined to go through anything to get stronger:

'How she didn’t need rest, only pain, pain to fuel the fire.' 'Who couldn't she kill?'

After she kills a creature wearing Altan's face. Well, spoiler: she does do genocide

Themes/Symbolism: knowledge, the danger of adhering to just one branch/extremity of thought (esp reflected in the elitism of Sinegard and the north and south; in the way the other Sinegard students treat Runin; in the way Kitay is convinced of his rationalism over Runin questioning if shamanism exists; even in the military where military arts and shamanism are separated and hidden (for the latter); and how Nikara separated itself from Speer (the analogue for smth like Ainu people in Japan.))

Of what is the purpose of knowledge, if it cannot be 'utilised' for in present context, war?

Is 'an eye for an eye' right? What would you do to win or to get revenge? That there are difficult choices to make in such horrors like war -- do horrifying things done to you and your people justify genocide? What if your god that was your only hope was also cruel to you? Between gods and humans, who is really using who?

Also subtly feminist. I mean, it really delivers on the promise of female rage, and there are a couple important female figures

Characters: of course Runin is easy to like and easy to root for! She's way more determined than me bcs she's that unhinged/unhealthy 'do-or-die' when it comes to academics and martial arts!

Everyone else for students is a bit, hm, unelaborated on so far which is fair

Rin has 2 foils: 1) Kitay, and 2) Nezha. And prob also Altan -- how he seems so perfect and later on how they seem alike -- but are ultimately different

Tearza in the past who refused to sacrifice the world for her people, so the god killed her in retribution. But Rin did do so in vengeance and is thus still alive.

Nezha funnily keeps getting 'off-screen death scenes' which means he's definitely not dead

Character relationships: interesting to see how Altan is a 'better' teacher to Rin as they understand each other better in needs to war, but also gets abusive towards her with the pressure and needing her to summon their god, as he is a soldier first.

Jiang was the 'wiser' teacher as a peaceful scholar but wasn't there, sealing himself away in stone

Descriptions: lightly sketched so you don't get drowned in it

Tone: easy, simple, direct, not very literary/purple prose, often short sentences

Use of language: Past tense. Purely in Rin's POV, with one exception in Tyr's/and then omniscient narrator (to show the betrayal of the empress). Lots of dialogue/some worldbuilding descriptions. (R F Kuang seems to begin/end/spin with dialogue a lot which makes it snappy?)

Figurative techniques sparse. Shows the extreme cruelty of the world (even before the war). Also does not hesitate to say fuck.

What works for it?

-want to see what happens to rin as it's very action-heavy and you're rooting for the underdog (fast-paced, inexorable marching to war)