#of interest to anchor my attention onto

[brother-emperors]

Weird question maybe but genuinely how do you manage to read so much and actually Retain Information?

honestly it depends, some stuff slides right off my brain like water on a smooth rock, but history has been an intense area of interest for me since I was about six (american revolution babyyyyy, back when I lived in new england I used to spend my weekends going to reenactments and museums) and if something piques my interest, then everything related to that thing will forcibly take up space in my brain against my will. I did not care about the roman economy until crassus took over my life, and now there's about a century of roman history where I'm fascinated by the economy.

it's also extremely difficult for me to to keep focused on a singular train of thought (read about Caesar's march on Rome, immediately jumped to a book about the Siege of Florence, then jumped back to Trebonius and siege warfare), so when I read a book or start researching something, I have an open notebook near by and I'll jot notes/thoughts/whatever else down in it because I remember information with more clarity if I write it down by hand, especially because I struggle to retain information I read on a screen (I also don't remember notes I take on a laptop or on my phone, it's gotta be on paper) and when I'm done reading, I'll summarize the interesting parts down for my future self

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi bunny!! Can I please get scones with a side of juice, served by Max Verstappen? 🫡 thx bae

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? check out the menu! i've been really back to writing since my chest infection got better so please! send me orders! i love seeing what ya'll request!! as for this one, thank you so much!

scones ("but what if they see us!) + juice (cockwarming) served by max verstappen (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, semi-public sex, oral sex (max receiving), cockwarming, risky sex, girlfriend!reader

sim racing was supposed to be fun. a relaxing activity for max to turn off part of his brain that was working overtime after a practice. it made logistical sense that after a long day of racing, he would go home and race some more.

but maybe that was max's weird brain.

so, why streaming with his friend was he so stressed. and why his eyes were less on the game in front of him and more on the camera. he scratched the side of his face as he tried to compose himself. but it was rather hard when his lovely, caring, kind, amazing girlfriend was between his legs with his cock in your mouth.

this all started as a bet. you had heard all about max's self control, that max was a storm that he kept at bay. he had nerves of steel. so it was simple, he got to stream with the boys and not break concentration.

"but what if they see us!" was max's first questions. but you silenced him with a few kisses and told him it would be fine. this only piqued his interest, "and what if i win this bet?" he asked as he snaked an arm around you shoulders. you were pulled close to him. his competitive spirit got the best of him.

you rubbed his chest and giggled, "well, anything you want, max. anything, well, except maybe murder. but, any which way you want to fuck me, you can have. but!" you tapped his nose, "only if you win."

"and what if you win?"

you just smiled at him, "oh don't worry, max." you waved your hand at him, "no need to worry about that at all!" which only alarmed him further.

so now he was white-knuckled on the steering wheel as he tried to keep up the conversation with his friends over the discord call. his attention was split three ways and it was making his brain melt.

it was a little over stimulaing, but the constant throb of your lips around his cock managed to anchor him to some kind of reality. the feeling was familiar.

in all fairness, you quite enjoyed his cock in your mouth. even with the blanket over his head and lap to keep your little secret hidden. it was hot under the fleece blanket, but when max shifted every so often, it made it worth it.

"yeah, mate, yeah." max said idly, he exhaled deeply as he tried to compose himself. but it was hard when you started to move your head a little more. his eyes almost rolled back into his head. he couldn't even grab the back of your head.

that would blow your entire cover.

but, deep down the entire thing was painfully hot. the thrill of possibly being caught. of having to be sneaky. it was rare that you two were sneaking around, so moments like these made liquid heat course through his veins.

you shifted a little under the blanket and continued to lick at his cock.

he felt your name on his tongue, but kept it together. even though it was a private call between friends. he didn't want to blow your cover, but it was hard when your mouth was on him so nicely.

usually he liked to hold onto your head and rock his cock up against your throat. so to leave everything up to you while he tried to split his attention was hard.

"how's your girl, mate?" he heard.

he frozen for a moment and felt you squeeze his thigh. he cleared his throat and said, "oh you know, same old, same old." your tongue grazed his achy tip and he almost threw the steering wheel. he exhaled once more, "i mean, she's fantastic as always." he chuckled.

he shifted in his seat a little bit and you giggled to yourself as you kept his cock in your mouth. you made a small noise and max coughed to cover the noise.

he thought he was done with the race, but was coaxed into another. and it was getting even harder to keep it together. he could feel his cock in the back of your throat.

you felt like a dream, you always felt like a dream. right now he wanted to just got his fingers into your hair and push his cock as deep as it'll go. he wanted to stain your throat with his cum.

"pretty girl." he muttered to himself absently.

his friend asked, "what was that?"

max's eyes went wide for a moment, he said, "nothing, nothing! just thinking about what my girl is making for dinner tonight." he nervously scratched his face, "she's my pretty girl, right? sorry, mate, too deep in my thoughts."

his cock hurt, but his balls hurt more. he felt his heartbeat in his ears, which made it harder for him to focus on what his friends were saying.

"shit." he exhaled deeply, the sweat clung to his neck.

the orgasm crept up on him, he tried to split his attention. but primal need to climax down your pretty throat overtook his mind. he held back any lustful noises and coughed into the collar of his shirt as he came in your mouth.

you swallowed hastily and heard the slight noises that your boyfriend was making. you had fully broken him. he heard him cough through another moan as his cock grew soft in your mouth.

"hey mate." max said, his jaw tense. he could feel the blood in his face, "i have to go real quick, i'll talk to you soon, yeah?" and didn't wait for a response before he turned off his camera and left the discord call.

when he knew everything was off, he leaned back in his seat and covered his face with his hands. his heart was pounding as he felt you got up. soon the blanket that was covering your head was now covering both of yours.

you gave him a searing kiss and draped your arms around him. the kiss tasted salty and it made max's exposed cock twitch. you said in a sing-song voice, "i win!"

he groaned and looked at you, he could feel the what radiating off of you. he took the blanket off of you both and you and said, "please, whatever you do. just be gentle." <3

[wingsofmud]

The Besties

I'm giving Clearsight and Listener more history together in my rewrite. They meet years before Clearsight and Darkstalker ever cross paths.

More info + designs w/o accessories below:

Clearsight:

Clearsight is lowborn. She's the only child of Swiftwings and Dreamer and thus grew up with her parents' complete attention. She certainly needed during her earlier years considering her unusually strong prophetic ability. First she can only see a few minutes into the future, which stretches to hours, then days, then weeks, then months, then years as she grows. By the time she's in her elder years she can see up to a couple of centuries past her death.

This only gives Clearsight more and more anxiety as she grows. Due to this, she was a late flier and started school a year later than the other Nightwings at the age of seven instead of six. Clearsight is a highly organized perfectionist and an anxious mess. Luckily her best friend, Listener, is her anchor every time she spirals into a pit of possible futures. Despite her set backs, she's an excellent student and a talented flier.

She's just trying to get through school and navigate through her rapidly expanding prophetic abilities. Then one night she bumps (or rather, body slams) into the hybrid prince on the beach while chasing a vision and watches her every possible future dissolve and reweave itself right before her eyes. Fun.

Clearsight wears a friendship bracelet she fashioned from cheap iron scraps with Listener. Darkstalker gifts Clearsight her earring. It is very obviously worth more money than Clearsight could ever make in several lifetimes so Darkstalker enchants it to look cheap.

.

Listener:

Listener was born into a large family, smack dab in the middle of eight other siblings. Due to this, She grew up navigating ten other voices in her head, while having ten dragons talking into her ears, and a sea of paws, tails, and wings to step around. Anyone who suggests the mind reader ocean method to her has clearly never had four younger siblings trying their best to annoy them.

One day, while looking from some peace, she stumbles onto a dragonet up in a tree. Said dragonet claims to be a seer, but, in Listener's opinion, she must really suck at having visions if she couldn't foresee getting stuck up there. After letting her know this, Listener helps her down. They hit it off and the rest is history.

Listener herself is an adventurous and excitable dragon. She's not interested in looking too far into the future, and would rather live spontaneously. She's looking into becoming an explorer once she finishes school. She loves hunting and gossip, and is very good at getting into relationships but not so much at keeping them.

She's very opinionated and has a bad habit of never thinking things through all the way, like the time she released the class pets. Or the time she accidentally picked all of her neighbor's primroses as a gift to her crush...who was said neighbor's son. Luckily, her best friend Clearsight always has Listener's back in whatever schemes she cooks up... and acts as damage control. Listener always has Clearsight's back in turn, even when she starts hanging out with very powerful, very scary dragons in her free time.

Listener wears a friendship bracelet she made with Clearsight.

.

Designs w/o Accessories:

[court-jobi]

Reheat

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work OR the mindblowing art of @gsony24))

Pairing: Midoriya x reader (support-hero!reader x teacher Izuku)

Words: 2.5k

Rating: G~

Warnings: comfort fic, tooth-rotting fluff here y'all, established relationship, work stress (livin' vicariously), talks of the future, a few fem pronouns used, but generally gender-neutral

Summary:

Izuku letting himself into your home after a long day has become comfortable background noise, and one you love to hear while you're bogged down. Work has been following you home all week. He's proud of you, without a doubt... But equally concerned when he sees your dinner half-eaten, your mind scatterbrained and racing faster than he can anchor you, and your angel eyes in desperate need of some TLC. He's cemented his place in your heart- and sees no reason he can't make himself at home here already.

A/N: do I have bigger fics in mind? Yes. Did I write this instead of sleeping bc I love soft, encouraging Deku? Also yes. Izuku Midoriya is a motivational speaker.

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

“Hey honey! I’m here!”

Over the tinny, background chatter of a podcast streaming from your phone, you call back to Izuku letting himself in.

“Hey you~” You throw interest into your voice, but still stayed tuned into your work.

“Ooo what’s this… What did you make here on the stove?”

“Risotto– it’s Italian~ has lots of veggies and good stuff in it,” you didn’t stop your typing pace, engrossed too heavily in getting an email out before you forget about it and Gmail has to ‘nudge’ you, again, “-gave it a Japanese spin with what I had in the house.”

“Oh wow– oh my gosh, honey– this is so good!”

You look up since your darling man has just appeared in your doorway, sparkly eyed to see you, but equally sated by what’s just graced his mouth. It was a meal you could babysit between taking a quick shower, getting ready for work, letting its flavors marry in the fridge throughout the day, and popping back on the stove that night.

“I’m glad, happy you like it~”

“D’you eat?” Izuku asks, midbite.

“Mhm. Little bit ago,” You motion to your bowl- but when he comes alongside you, he tuts over noting it's only half empty.

“You didn't finish- you feelin’ ok?”

Having circled back onto your screen, you double take again, this time caught by his perception check over you and feeling guilty. 

“Oh. Guess I didn't. I’ll nuke it up here in a bit.”

Izuku, setting down his bowl and starting the -normally alluring- task of rolling up his shirt sleeves to his forearms, comes to your side. However since you’re paying little mind to your peripherals, you missed the show the was making of it. A simple ask of ‘what’re you working on’ came from him, sounding no different than if he wasn't trying to make eyes at you; fact was, you just weren't paying attention.

“Just some stuff for the interns,” the sight of how many tabs are open on your split screen -and in your mind- make you sigh, “With this new role, I kinda feel like you some days. Lesson plans, processing their paperwork; it’s all the stuff you had to turn in as an intern– only now I'm the one dealing with it on the backend.”

Izuku sifted around though your training materials and your propped tablet making itself useful as a second screen. At your handwritten to-do list that’s one of the only things non-digitized nowadays, he makes an offhand comment that your handwriting is nice. It's the kind of cute, ‘blink-and-you’d-miss-it’ things he says that you just hum to, whether you were really listening or not.  

When you glance up to him again, you see he’s watching you with a caring gaze and feel caught.

 “What’re you looking at?” you tease, typing again to break the silence.

“A pretty girl…” Izuku teased lightly, “who doesn’t know when to take a break.”

You type away at his call out– the need for a night off at Izuku’s side is exactly why you've been working so hard at this. You figured you'd get some of this extra prep work under control now, so by the time he rolls around on Wednesday for your standing date n–

You freeze. 

Realizing what day it is in your planner.  It's Wednesday. For dinner.

“Oh my God- -you’re here.”

“Mhmmm~” Izuku really doesn't want to laugh, but his sucking in of a lip isn't hiding it well. 

“ohmygod imtheworst!!” you refresh your face in both hands, talking through the gaps.

“You are not!” Izuku chuckled, setting your notes down. “You just got busy with all the new tasks, because you’re just that good.” 

A faithful, scarred hand comes over to smooth over your back, pulling you over into a little half hug. You sink against him, relishing in his little forehead kiss. He can try all he likes to cure your embarrassment, but you look to him apologetically.

“I’ve never forgotten our dinner dates, ‘Zuku…”

Your darling shrugged unbothered, “Had to happen sometime. It’s no big deal.”

“Is to me,” you pressed- very much bothered.

“Honey,” Izuku chips your chin up, “You’re too hard on yourself. It’s ok, these things happen! I mean, you still made a delicious dinner; even if it was a bit of an oversight I would -in fact- be eating it.”

The pang of guilt hits you at forgetting. This was just a symptomatic sign that the brilliance of your taking on the additional role of Education Coordinator at the agency was perhaps an over-zealous one. Not only to be on-call for your base job as a linguistics quirk specialist, but to balance another full time role on the office hours end? Why did you convince Fatgum this was a good idea? It sounded like a stellar idea back at the beginning of the summer…

Now you’re forgetting not just who you’re supposed to be eating with- but also eating in general.

“I’m glad you did,” you boost Izuku’s elephant-like memory, “It feels so normal to have you here, it's not like I completely forgot I’d see you today. I just– maybe I… thought I was gonna take some to you, since I wouldn't see you till later in the week? I dunno.”

“C’mere- never got a real hug.” 

You rise at his hand’s insistence, and stretch up into his full, healing embrace. 

“Hi baby,” you cooed pitifully.

“Hi, my angel. Missed you today.”

You hummed at the affection, sinking into his neck more out of your residual misery.

Izuku simply took advantage of you being close to sway you in his wide stance- a dance, sans music.

“I appreciate you cooking so much for us,” he spoke gently from his perch over your shoulder, “I was looking forward to it all day, y’know? You’re always so thoughtful with everything you make.”

He’s pressing into you with compliments- against your hard wiring to accept…

“‘Zuku.”

“It’s true~ you’re generous! You remember what my favorites are, and leave out the stuff I don’t like; you even send me leftovers. And you make snacks and treats for when the midnight munchies strike– what can’t you do?”

“Zuku…”

“And you–” he runs a hand through your hair as he sways your shy self back and forth, “-- make for the most funny, beautiful, fascinating, most inspiring company I could ever hope to share a meal with.”

Head thunking onto his shoulder, you playfully land a closed fist on his chest with a muffled, whiny plea for him to stop.

He sighs, all in good humor.

“This streak of yours... I really have my work cut out for me, don’t I? Still can’t imagine how bad it must be in that brilliant mind that my incredible girlfriend has such a hard time accepting the tiniest compliment. Maybe it’s all that late night American comedy you watch...”

You exhale then fix him with your coolest look of sarcasm, anything to show that you have a modicum of having your shit together. So you cope with humor- who doesn't?

–shame that it looks too much like a pout and makes you decidedly not threatening at all, because Izuku just beams brightly at you in response.

“Oh! Now there’s my melty princess- I was wondering where she went.”

And at that, the aloofness was gone, and you snort into a laugh and hug him tighter around the neck. He even scoops you up and gives you one little twirl for good measure. 

When he set you down, Izuku cups your face in his hands and gifts you a few more forehead kisses before demanding your sights. 

“Now. We need to get you to finish eating first. Then, what can I do to help you tonight, hm? How can I make things easier for you?”

With a softer eye to your desk’s work, you sat back down staying connected to your ever doting Izuku by way of your hand in his. You tried again to focus back. You're newly refreshed by his affections and attempt for a more positive outlook, 

“Well, my goal of doing this tonight was so that I didn’t have to go in early tomorrow. Course, if I do run myself ragged tonight, I won't be any good to anyone there– or for you, here. But I think if I pare it down to just getting these e-sigs ready and getting their time-in checklists set up for their work study onboarding, that would give me a good enough start, and I can fill in the rest of their packets tomorrow. But that means I’d need -ugh- maybe… another hour of work tonight?” you looked to him for his approval, “I have a template, so it shouldn’t take me forever.”

“Alright! You’re the boss,” Izuku supported your plan with a smile, “How about I take care of the kitchen for you while you finish up?”

“You do not have to clean my kitchen!” you spouted back, offended– causing a laugh to burst from him, “It’s not funny! I didn’t ask you to come over after a day of work yourself to just slave away at my mess.”

Izuku fixed you a look, as if you knew better. 

“I think I can tidy up a kitchen, no matter how busy of a day I’ve had. Yours isn't even over yet- so when precisely were you going to have the energy to hammer at it? You’ll enjoy not having that mountain waiting for you.”

You huffed, but smiled gratefully all the same. 

“Besides, it’s just me- doing something nice for the woman I love; and I happen to like doing nice things for you. You deserve a clean space, hun.” 

He cleared off your previous bowl to reheat along with your empty water cup. Shaking the hollow straw inside to where it clinks, he knows exactly what you need and tells you so.

“You are getting a screenless break first, though. Something tells me you didn’t the first time around~”

Settled with a fist propping up your face, you swooned over this darling man. 

Trusting Autosave to have done its job, you shut the laptop down blindly, “Sure didn’t~” 

Izuku just rolled his eyes and stepped out of the study. 

You neaten up the collated stack of applications laid out by you and stepped over to the couch, taking a kneeling perch on the end while you sought out a new record for the player on the side table. Setting one on, it was able to fire up and fill some new life into the room with a movie score you haven’t listened to in a while. Everything just sounds better on vinyl.

When Izuku came back in the room, he’d found his houseshoes and returned with renewed interest to your music choice- and with a pleased expression seeing you actually lounging and taking things easier than how he found you. He traded your reheated meal in exchange for your blue-light glasses, which he’d then clean with a pocket square and set back on your desk once they were smudgeless.

“Now, that’s a better sight~ here you go, all set for later.”

You enjoyed Izuku’s company while finishing dinner, listening to him outline his workday while he cradled your legs in his lap. He'd had a pleasantly eventful one, with plenty to say about it. You’d play ‘two truths and a lie’ sometimes when he didn’t want to bore you with a particularly mind-numbing schedule, which pleased you just as well. You excelled at it, while he gave away his fictions every time- a terrible liar for the game, but great for a faithful partner, you reasoned.  You truly loved hearing him talk and talk, your love only growing at the domesticity of this feeling and never wanting that to change. 

Once you were done, you were honestly content to hear him continue his tangent, but it seems his inner discipline was stronger than yours. 

“Alright, now to attack that sink~”

You bemoaned again for his sake. But since you made such a small, affected noise, Izuku paused mid-rise, and sat back down a bit closer to you. He stretched an arm over the back of the couch, encouraging you to come closer and met you for a sweet kiss in the middle.

His mere presence reverted you to a younger self sometimes– one desperate for his attention, good or bad. It wasn't the loveliest impulse, but he clearly thinks it's all part of your charm seeing as he gives in every time, anyway.

“Thing is,” Izuku spoke softly while adoring the hand now placed in his, “If things keep going the way I think they’re going -the way I hope they’re going- it’s.. not hard to imagine that there’s gonna be both our dishes to clean up all the time. In our kitchen, in our home someday. So this is just practice, right? Seems perfectly normal to me. How it should be.”

That idea bloomed in your chest, the thought of sharing a home with him- where this exchange of chores and time together could be your new normal. Only it would be a future where he didn’t have to leave at the end of the night and go back to a bed with compact, collegiate-designed storage at the campus accommodations he stays in on the instructor's wing. He’s got enough to get him by, but he noticeably prefers your home here closer to downtown.

“And what happens when we both wanna ditch the dishes?” you countered sweetly.

Izuku smirked, “That’s what a dishwasher is for. Another thing we’d own together…”

“Forward thinking, there.” You relished that idea. 

Izuku nuzzled your forehead thoughtfully. 

“You’ve been doing things on your own for a long time– and it shows, sweetheart.”

His words came carefully, from a tender place spoken in confidence between you, referring to when you’ve spent other late nights like this one fueled with hot tea and a desire to keep ignoring the clock.

“And I know you’ve been used to that since you’ve been traveling so much, not even having roommates to help keep you company or lighten the load. I keep wishing I could have known you sooner, had more time with you before you had to learn some of those things the hard way… but I’m happy I get the chance to, now. I’m here now, and you’re not alone, so I hope you’ll let me take care of you when I can.”

With another happy sigh forcing your eyes shut, the mental will it took to not let the tears of a perpetual eldest daughter leave you was intense.

Izuku Midoriya never failed to hit the nail on the head when it came to pep talks; he does the same with his students. But why his ones aimed at you had to have a Full Cowling dash of heartfelt anecdotes in it, you don't know. But you're grateful. You're so grateful for him. 

“If you don’t quit talkin’ like that, Izuku, I will never let you leave this condo.”

He chuckled again, lifting your cheek for another kiss, “Twist my arm, love.”

Ultimately, he rose to quit distracting you, but not without you watching him leave with a hunger you’d never felt for another soul before. 

[spotsupstuff]

(hii Spot been awhile) Something I think that's interesting about the observation about how Slugcats are getting so much attention nowadays is that its almost a 180 from how things were in the pre-downpour days, iirc.

Though I am glad we're getting an AU like yours it's so interesting compared to the usual

Im eating with a fork

Yeah, the fandom was not particularly strong back then, but I think there was more Iterator content. My suspicion as to why slugcats are so much more popular now is because the general "cat appeal"*. Downpour brought in wider audience which mostly consists of people that go wild over cat videos on the internet.

Not my intention to throw shade on it, because after all what does my opinion matter to anyone, but I find the whole "cuteness cult" of the internet annoying and, when applied to Rain World, frustrating. There's a whole silent worldbuilding in basically every screen of the game and the only thing that people seem to take away post-DP is "cute sluggy go wooo :3 the Ancients were such cultist pricks Dx". Which like alright, but expand a little on the latter please? Try? There is So much fun to it when one moves past the "religion only BAD" mindset.

DP also I think didn't care much about the Ancients and the culture they left behind (and therefore the root of Iterators). "But there's Saint!" Saint is almost everything new that wasn't heard of before, can be taken as another fact of monstroid mad religion and, of course, it Has to be wrapped in a fluffy cat package. The undergrowth Echo also feels like a spit in the face to the lore/religion than an addition, to me. My *guess* would be the original intention was showing an individual who failed to ascend because of the Fifth Hindrance but it doesn't *feel* like it. If that was the intention, I think the author didn't understand why a desire to live/survive could ever, in any form, be bad

It's interesting as well in the sense that when there was only Survivor, maybe up to Hunter- the slugcats felt like a vehicle that brings the player to the story. The player saw the world through their eyes and got to experience the world's rules, abiding them- the original campaigns were still subject to the lore/religion of the world.

DP made the slugcats characters, the main focus, in some cases a rebelion against the lore/religion (forever beef against new route for Survivor and Monk). So people had an easier time latching onto them.

That is my theory at least. Fact is also when I first watched RW I almost didn't get into it as a creator because I felt like I had nowhere to hook to and work with. Characters are great anchor points for people to latch on to and then work with/through, so it's not like I blame the fandom for quite literally getting slug infested. It's natural and logical and I'm well aware of it as someone who's trying to be a writer. Still frustrating.

Either way, at least there's a vacuum for me to fill with something I'm actively actually passionate about. It's kind of a sweet bonus that people are somewhat interested, too.

[writtensweethearts]

Something More

Pairing: Steve Harrington x GN!Reader Word count: 2k+ CW: Misunderstandings, friends to lovers, Eddie being his lovely self A/N: Not my best work but I hope it makes you smile Also Thank you for all the love on my first post, xoxo

Steve has been your friend as long as you could remember.

The years have been kind, gifting you with memories you’d soon come to agonize over, memories you’d learn to feel such fondness over, it left you dizzy. Late nights rotting in bed, laughing over melted ice cream, Steve was summer. He was the distant smell of campfires, tanned and freckled skin. He was road trips and movie nights and so distinctly him, a place of comfort, a constant in your life. He was the anchor during your first heartbreak, the shelter you sought after nightmares, the soft reassurance during the aftermath of witnessing the Upside Down. He never changed, never outgrew you, never once stopped prioritizing you even when faced with the snarky remarks of his peers in high school. Steve has been your friend, your best friend, for more years than you can count.

But you can’t remember exactly when you stopped seeing him as one.

Maybe it was the summer after freshman year, when he’d slowly grown taller right before your eyes. Limbs growing lanky only to be filled out with sharp lines and taught muscle by the end of senior year, when you couldn’t recall exactly when he’d changed so much. Or maybe it was the whispers in the hallways of Hawkin High, classmates speculating that the two of you held something more. Or maybe it was right now.

“Hey, do you remember Cassidy Davis?”

Your elbows sink into the mattress of Steve’s bed as you push yourself upward, angling your body to face him as he stands over the sink of the connected bathroom.

“From highschool? I think so, blonde right?”

He hums in response, reaching over to grab the razor resting on the counter top. You always loved moments like this, the domesticity of it all, the quiet, intimate moments where you could pretend that this was all that mattered. You and Steve.

“She stopped by Family Video today during my shift.”

You frown at that, head turning away in hopes he wouldn’t catch your reaction from the reflection. 

“Huh. Did you talk to her?”

He nods, eyes fixated as he glides the blade against his jaw, “Yeah. She was eyeing Dawn of the Dead and I mentioned Eddie’s obsession with it.”

Your lips twitch upwards at that, for all the wry comments made between the two boys it was endearing to see the light cracks in the facade.

“So I told her what he told me, and she seemed interested enough to check it out by the end of it,” He paused, eyes flickering over to you. You watch as his throat bobs, before he turns his attention back to his own reflection. Curious, you waited, watching as he rinsed the remaining shaving gel off his face.

“I asked her to dinner.”

Oh. Oh. 

“Or well- She asked me if I wanted to watch Dawn of the Dead with her, and I didn’t want to tell her no, so.. It just kind of happened.”

He walks over to you, knees hitting the ends of the bed frame.

“I won’t go if you don’t want me to.”

You stare at him, brows furrowed. 

“Why wouldn’t I want you to?”

He seems a bit puzzled at that, hands reaching up, nervously tugging the back of his sleep ruffled hair.

“No I just, I just meant if you don’t like her it’s important to me. I won’t go out with someone you can’t stand.”

“Steve, how I feel shouldn’t matter. If you like Cassidy you should go for it.” He looks at you warily so you add, “I barely remember her. I think I had calculus with her but we never talked. I promise I don’t have any negative feelings.” He returns your response with a small smile, leaning forward to press a light kiss onto your temple, leaving the skin warm and tingly and your chest tight.

The date hadn’t gone as hoped. Guilt gnawed at you as you watched Steve return, head high yet ego bruised. Though he’d seemingly taken the failed night in stride, you felt uneasy with the relief you’d felt as he told you about his evening. 

Things began to change after that. As the months went by Steve continued spending time with girls he’d met. Movies at the drive in, picnics at the park, pool days in his backyard.

The unfamiliar feeling of wanting more made everything unbearable.

“And so Robin was telling Janice that no way is David Bowie the best musician of all time-” The distant ringing in the hallway cuts him short.

“Hold on, sorry.” Steve watches as you untangle your legs from his, the lost warmth of your calves leaving goosebumps in its wake, his thighs missing the pressure of your weight. You’re off the couch in seconds, high speeding to the landline attached to the wall of your hallway, in hopes to catch the call before it ends. He could hear your voice through the echoes of your empty home.

“Hello?” He leans forward in an effort to figure out who the person on the other end is. It’s too far for him to recognize the voice, but his ears perk at the sound of your laughter and a quiet promise of seeing the mystery caller soon. You return, nudging his legs to the side as you take your place back onto the comforter, pointedly ignoring Steve’s watchful gaze.

A beat passes, “So you planning on telling me who that was?”

“Just a friend.” You keep your head down, fingers picking into your cuticles as you try to act unaffected under his scrutiny. 

“Hm. And does this friend have a name?” You chance a look at him, his eyebrows twisted upwards with an expectant look on his face. You sigh, “It’s just Eddie. We’re hanging out tomorrow, he was calling to let me know when he’d be coming around to pick me up.” You're gifted with a surprised look. You grin, “What? I got other friends too, Harrington.” 

He doesn’t take the bait. 

“What are you doing with Munson?” 

You shrug, pulling yourself away to face him properly, “We’re just hanging out. He’s taking me to his trailer to show me his guitar but we didn’t make a full itinerary. Nosy much?” You tease.

His expression remains thoughtful as the conversation ebbs, both of you content in the silence and comfort of each other.

It’s been weeks now since you last saw Steve. You’ve dropped by Family Video a few times only to be greeted by a sympathetic Robin letting you know that no, Steve was not available. You weren’t sure what to do, but by the fourth missed call that week, you’d decided to leave it alone, he’d come around when he was ready. 

Restless from the longing in your heart, you tiptoed out your bedroom door, slipping into the night. Eddie’s trailer was a short walk away, a new found solace, the evening breeze cooling your warm skin. You’d wondered on your way whether you’d made the right decision, unsure if an unwarranted visit at late hours would cross a boundary in your new friendship. But you were lonely, sick of the quietness of the dark, embarrased at the radio silence from your best friend.

You eye the dim light of the trailer, the faint noise of Eddie tuning his guitar. Taking a breath you knock loudly, door rattling in hopes he could hear you over his music. It takes a second, a sharp “who is it?” before the door opens, revealing ring clad fingers and tatted skin.

“Hey sweet thing, to what do I owe this pleasure?” He’s grinning down at you, the steps of the trailer allowing him to tower above you, you smile widely in return.

“Munson. Dropping by to keep your lonely heart company.” He doesn’t hesitate to shove the door wider, metal creaking as he steps aside, allowing you to walk into the living space. His hand wraps around the knob, attempting to pull the entrance shut before a hand reaches out, desperately holding it open.

“Eddie, wait.”

The familiarity of the voice has you spinning on your heels, eyes wide as you exchange glances with the metal head. He leans on the frame of the door, broad shoulders blocking Steve’s view, a strange sense of dissappointment overcomes you as you realize, he hadn’t noticed you yet.

“Harrington, what a lovely surprise.” You could imagine Steve rolling his eyes at Eddie’s tone, dripping in sarcasm.

“Do you have a second to talk?” You stand still, holding your breath as you watch Eddie hesitate for a moment before answering, “Sure.”

“What’s going on with you two?” 

“Gotta be more specific than that lover boy. Me and who?” It’s so soft you could have missed it, Steve’s voice calling out your name, said so lovingly and full of endearment, a complete opposite of how he'd made you feel the past few weeks. You catch Eddie’s eyes, tilting your head in a slight nod as you take light footsteps towards him. He takes a step back as your body fills the entrance,

“Why don’t you ask them yourself?”

The harsh crinkle of fallen leaves breaking as you walk down the quiet streets of Hawkins, makes you cringe. The relief you’d once felt just moments before, autumn winds embracing you, has now left you feeling overheated, sticky, uncomfortable. Or maybe it was a result of the boy walking silently next to you, the thick tension twisting the cool night into something dark, something uneasy.

“So you and Eddie huh?”

You pause. “What?”

“I didn’t realize,” Steve huffs out a humorless laugh, “I should’ve known.”

Dumbfounded, you stare into his back as he continues walking, unaware. It takes a moment before he turns, a confused stare painted on his face, matching yours.

“Steve, what are you talking about?”

“You and Munson. Come on, I already heard. I- you could’ve told me you know. I could handle it.”

Your head is spinning, trying to understand what he’s trying to say, trying to work out what you should say. But all that comes out is, “Who did you hear that from?”

He’s staring at you as if you’ve confirmed his suspicions, “Max was telling Lucas at the arcade about how you’ve been visiting his trailer recently. She bet five bucks you guys are dating.”

Shocked, you choke out a laugh.

“Steve. Max is fourteen. She’s brilliant and I love her, but she’s fourteen. Eddie and I are just friends, I’ll regret to inform her that she just lost five dollars.”

Your laughter dies down, leaving only the sounds of crickets in the air. A sense of understanding falls over you, “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” you ask gently. He flushes, pink stretching over his cheeks, reaching the tops of his ears, you take that as a yes. 

“Why? Were you hurt because you didn’t hear it from me?”

He”s staring at the distance between you, eyes intently watching the concrete. You move, closing the space until you’re standing close enough to see the freckles on his face summer had left behind.

“Steve?” You call out.

“I’m sorry,” he shuts his eyes as if in pain, “shit, I- I didn’t mean to avoid you I just.. I didn’t know how to be around you without you knowing.”

Your heart swells with hope as you peer up at him. 

“Without me knowing what?” You prod.

He opens his eyes, focused on your lips as a smile blossoms on your face.

“You really going to make me say it sweetheart?” You nod, cheeks aching.

“I love you. I’ve loved you since we were kids and you cried when I carved our initials into a tree, because you didn’t want it to feel pain. I loved you in middle school when I had that awful haircut and was worried about what you’d think. I loved you when we were teenagers and I listened to you cry about Nate Thompson standing you up. And God I love you right now even though I’m terrified you’ll break my heart.”

And maybe it really was the summer you’d noticed he’d grown taller, or maybe it was the day months ago when he’d announced he was going on a date with Cassidy Davis, or maybe it was right now. In the gentle air of the fall weather, standing over crumpled leaves on an empty street, where you realized Steve Harrington was not your best friend. He was so much more.

[cnnmairoll]

PSPSPSPSPSPS MAI- could I request something very cute and fluffy about holding Dan Heng and Sampo for the first time (separately)? My boys deserve some cuddles and I would love to know how they'd react to being held 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Hugging Them for the First Time

Character(s) : Dan Heng, Sampo Koski Genre : Fluff a/n : tysm vi for requesting, I'm gonna count this as my first request :')) I could not bring sampo to justice, I had an idea in mind but when I wrote it out is a bit eh,, you'll see for yourself. But I hope you liked it!!

In the soft glow of moonlight streaming through the windows of the Astral Express, you found yourself tossing and turning in bed. Sleep seemed to elude you, and as the minutes ticked by, you realized that tonight was going to be another one of those nights when rest was hard to come by. An idea struck you - maybe a book would help lull you into slumber. And where better to find an intriguing tome than Dan Heng's personal collection?

With careful steps, you padded down the corridor to Dan Heng's room. The train's gentle swaying seemed to rock you in sync with your heartbeat. You pushed open the door, revealing the sanctuary of knowledge he had meticulously gathered over time. The sight of your tall, enigmatic boyfriend sleeping soundly added a layer of warmth to your heart, even as you tried to suppress the fond smile tugging at your lips.

As your fingers brushed over the spines of his books, a subtle shift in the atmosphere alerted you to the fact that something was amiss. Your attention snapped back to Dan Heng, only to see his peaceful expression contorting into one of distress.His brows knitted together, and faint lines of distress etched across his features. It didn't take long to realize that he was trapped in the clutches of a nightmare.

With a pang of worry, you abandoned the book and approached his bedside, your heart aching at the sight of his inner turmoil. "Dan Heng," you whispered, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and giving it a slight shake. "Dan Heng, wake up."

His eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, he seemed disoriented, lost between the dream world and reality. As his gaze focused on you, his tense expression softened, but remnants of unease still lingered in his eyes.

"Hey," you murmured, your voice soothing as you continued to stroke his arm. 

He blinked a few times, his breathing gradually steadying. "Y/N?" he rasped, his voice rough with sleep.

"Yeah, I'm here," you assured him, offering a gentle smile. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Dan Heng's lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze dropping to his hands. "It's… it's nothing."

You knew better than to push him when he wasn't ready, so you simply nodded, letting him know that you were there whenever he was ready to share. Instead, you extended your hand, an unspoken invitation for him to take it. With a hesitant yet yearning look, he accepted, his fingers intertwining with yours as if seeking an anchor in the tempest of his thoughts.

Wordlessly, you guided him to sit up, allowing his gaze to meet yours fully. "Well, I was actually in here to borrow a book," you confessed, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

His lips quirked up ever so slightly, a small spark of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Couldn't sleep?"

You chuckled softly. "Yeah, you know me too well."

"Which book caught your interest?" He asks

You showed him the book you had chosen, and his eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Ah, that one. It's quite the adventure."

As you settled onto the edge of the bed, the two of you began to discuss the book. The initial tension from the nightmare seemed to dissipate in the comfort of your conversation. Dan Heng's reserved demeanor gave way to a more relaxed and animated side that only seemed to reveal itself when he was alone with you.

Hours slipped by as you delved into the story, trading insights and theories, your voices carrying through the quiet room. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand, his touch gentle and reassuring. "Thank you for being here."

In that moment, you saw beyond the distant stars of his exterior, past the enigmatic aura he projected. You saw the wounded soul yearning for solace, for connection. Without further hesitation, you opened your arms, inviting him into an embrace that promised safety and comfort.

He hesitated for a heartbeat, his eyes searching yours for any signs of rejection. But what he found was acceptance, a fierce determination to stand by his side, no matter the darkness that sought to envelop him. With a shuddering breath, he folded himself into your embrace, his arms encircling you as if he feared you might vanish if he let go.

In that moment of rescuing embrace, you held him as he clung to you, as if he were an anchor in the stormy sea of his past. The minutes ticked by, the world outside fading into insignificance as you shared a space that was solely yours, a haven within the Astral Express where time held no sway.

In your established relationship, you had discovered the layers that made up Sampo – the mischievous twinkle in his eyes when he was concocting a new scheme, the genuine laughter that bubbled up when you shared an inside joke, and the way his gaze softened when he thought you weren't looking. It was a connection that defied the norms of the marketplace, a love that had bloomed amidst the trade negotiations and bustling crowds.

But there was one thing that intrigued you about Sampo, one challenge you couldn't resist: his penchant for surprises. Sampo thrived on keeping people on their toes, and he was a master at catching others off guard with his quick wit and unexpected revelations.

And so, the idea was born. You decided that you would surprise him with an embrace, a warm and loving hug that would leave him speechless. It was a challenge you eagerly accepted, knowing that it would take careful planning and impeccable timing.

The scene was set. You found yourselves in a quiet alley tucked away from the vibrant chaos of the marketplace. The occasional echo of distant haggling reached your ears, but here, you and Sampo were cocooned in your own world.

Sampo was in the midst of spinning a tale about a particularly cunning deal he'd closed last week, his eyes gleaming with that trademark mischief. As he laughed, you felt a warmth swell within you. 

You circled him, your steps soundless, until you were right behind him. With a sudden burst of courage, you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into an embrace he hadn't seen coming. The world seemed to hold its breath as you held him, your heart racing as his voice caught in his throat. Time stood still for a moment, and then he chuckled, his laughter rich and melodious.

For a moment, the world stood still. Sampo froze, his animated storytelling coming to an abrupt halt. Then, slowly, his laughter transformed into a low chuckle, and he leaned into your embrace. "Well, well, what do we have here?" he exclaimed, his voice a delightful mixture of astonishment and amusement. "Is this how you plan to do business, my dear?"

You felt the rumble of his laughter against your chest, and you couldn't help but chuckle too. "Just thought I'd catch you off guard for once," you teased, holding him a little tighter.

Sampo turned within your embrace, his arms encircling you in return. His gaze held a mixture of affection and playfulness. "Ah, my heart," he said with mock seriousness.

Sampo turned in your arms, his gaze softer than you'd ever seen it. With a tender look, he brushed your cheek with his thumb. "You've managed what very few could. Congratulations on surprising the great Sampo Koski." he said, his tone a mixture of affection and admiration. "But do you know what this means?"

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What?"

He grinned, that wolfish smile that always sent shivers down your spine. "It means I'll have to up my game, of course."

And so began a delightful back-and-forth between you two, a dance of surprises and embraces that spanned days, weeks, and months. Sometimes it was you surprising Sampo with a hidden gift or a witty retort. Other times, it was him whisking you away to secret corners of the marketplace, unveiling hidden gems and forgotten stories.

But amidst the laughter and playful banter, there was one constant – the warmth of each other's arms. Often, in the quiet moments when the world faded away and it was just the two of you, Sampo would pull you close, his embrace a sanctuary of love and belonging.

"We should do this more often," he murmured, his voice a soft melody that resonated deep within you.

And in those arms, surrounded by the tapestry of a love that was as vibrant and unpredictable as the marketplace itself, you knew you had found your place of belonging. With Sampo, every surprise was a gift, and every embrace held the promise of forever.

nurtured with the silver-tongued merchant who had become your partner, your confidant, and your greatest surprise of all.

[beom1e]

ephemeral sixteen | thank you

genre fluff, slice-of-life. warning anxiety, alcohol, details of kissing. playlist ml. wc 925.

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you wished that you had actually taken yeonjun’s offer to pick you up a little earlier, now that you were walking in the cold. beomgyu was grumpy because you were too cold to hold his hand, and you were feeling sick with social anxiety.

‘i can’t do it,’ you stopped in your tracks, reaching for beomgyu’s arm to stop him too. ‘i won’t know anyone there, and i’m evidently not good at making friends.’

‘you know me and four other people,’ he grabbed your hand and tugged you along with him. ‘as much as i would like to pity you and take you back home, it’d be a very cold thirty-minute walk back to our building.’

‘please, ‘gyu,’ you turned into an anchor, refusing to let him pull you any closer to the tall building. ‘i’m way too anxious.’

‘y/n,’ he stood in front of you, maintaining eye contact. ‘i promise you that you’ll regret going home right now. i’m going to be by your side the whole night, and if you still don’t want to be there after ten minutes, we’ll go back to my place and watch a cheesy romance movie instead.’

‘pinky promise?’ you frowned, holding out your pinky finger.

‘i do,’ he linked his pinky with yours, and pressed your thumbs together to seal it. ‘i’ll take care of you.’

you may have been a little dramatic. at first, the loud music and various voices had made you question all of your decisions leading up to that moment, but walking into the apartment proved to you that it would be a lot more fun than you’d expected. the hosts came right up to you to greet you and sweep you away from beomgyu, excited to see you at a party for the first time since they’d known of your existence. after you had been given a short tour, shown a safe place to leave your belongings and introduced to a few strangers, beomgyu had returned with two drinks.

there was so much to do. a group playing card games in the kitchen, a makeshift beer pong along the dining table, a childish game of spin the bottle on the living room floor, beomgyu’s friends laughing about something on the couch, and a small group of girls dancing beside the speaker.

you followed beomgyu to the couch and he pulled you into his lap, not afraid to show off your relationship to the rest of the partygoers. he joined the conversation at hand whilst you sipped from your cup filled with a vodka mixed drink. and then, a question was directed towards you thanks to taehyun.

‘didn’t you first meet beomgyu at one of these parties?’ he spoke, and the boys all turned their attention towards you.

‘um, yeah,’ you shrugged. ‘my best friend used to drag me along to as many of these as they could in my first year.’

you felt beomgyu’s hand on your thigh. it was his way of subtly comforting you at the mention of your best friend.

‘your friend?’ kai spoke, leaning forward. ‘do we know them?’

‘you might’ve,’ you smiled sadly. ‘they passed away only a few months into our first year here.’

‘i’m sorry, y/n,’ soobin frowned. ‘we didn’t know.’

‘it’s okay, guys,’ you smiled softly. ‘i try not to think of them as gone anymore, because the memories are enough.’

‘should we get another drink?’ beomgyu distracted, and you agreed before being ushered away by him.

the more drunk you got, the more comfortable you became. after joining in on every game you possibly could, beomgyu had somehow convinced you to dance with him. a slow song was playing through the speaker as he twirled you around and pulled you back towards him. yeonjun had found interest in a stranger and was flirting his way towards getting their number, kai and taehyun had taken over the beer pong table for the past three games, and soobin was sitting on the floor for a final game of ‘never have i ever’.

in his drunken confidence, beomgyu pressed his lips to yours. you had to grip onto his shoulders to ground yourself, still dizzy and unstable from the dancing and alcohol mixture. his arms were wrapped tightly around your waist to keep you close, and you felt yourself smiling into the kiss.

he pulled away momentarily to look into your eyes, his gaze filled with so much emotion. this time, you looped your arms around his neck and pushed yourself up to meet his height. he dipped his head back down to kiss you once again, leaving you both to forget about the space around you.

‘get a room!’ kai yelled as he stepped back into the room, throwing a ping pong ball in your direction. thankfully, it bounced off the wall and missed you both completely.

half an hour later, you were saying your goodbyes to yeonjun and soobin who had came down to the lobby with you. beomgyu was busy fastening your coat whilst you were being coerced into promising to attend more of their parties, but it was all very light-hearted. they soon headed back towards the elevators, with your boyfriend taking your hand and leading you away from them.

‘thank you,’ you turned your head to side in order to take in the sight of him, smiling to yourself.

‘for what?’ he met your eyes, breaking out into a smile himself.

‘for not allowing me to give up,’ you leaned to press a short kiss to his lips, feeling at peace.

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[inkpunkz]

//blood ⚠️

I love...extremely detailed ocs but I removed those fin/ear tendrils extremely fast... time to yap :]

This is Altair, an ancient jellyfish sea monster that lives at the bottom of the ocean and is considered a "god".

During building up this character, originally he was supposed to be orange and black but I wanted lean more towards a more bioluminescence take on the design and ultimately came up with this. He wasn't supposed to be a jellyfish but rather an eel but I didn't like what I was coming up with :(( he wasn't really based off anything besides well...jellyfish and an entity from a game that caught my attention.

Altair is capable of granting wishes but for a price which is usually gruesome, depending on the person and what they tell him. His face has his mouth directly down his head that has millions of sharp teeth, he also has 4 tendrils on his back with hooked ends to latch onto his prey and uses them to smell and inject poison.

He is approximately 300 meters (984 feet) high in monster form. He is 10' ft in land form (Taller than punkz, who is 6'8, also ignore the fact why seph looks so tall, i changed altairs height as of typing this lol). In land form, he has to often wear a hood because his eyes are extremely sensitive to light and he wants to hide himself and be as passive as possible. more under the cut :33

His skin are transparent and some of his bones are on the outside of his body (his heels, hips and back of the knees.)

He dosent talk much whilst on land and usually just stares, he'll make noises of confusion or interest but dosent talk unless he has to get a point across.

He has a tail, I just forgot to include in his body sheet lol

He sleeps in a large cave most of the time and looks after pufferfish and swims along side schools of fish. He dose prey on pirate ships but he also swims up directly to land and stalks a dock and watches people walk up and down it. (He dosent have a taste for meat, he's a vegan guy lol) Dutch or uhm "silly guy who's extremely lonely who was betrayed by the only person he could trust" follows altair around and tries to strike up conversations but they never work.

Altair knows punkz personally mainly due to the fact he's a megalodon and related to an ancient megalodon, Altair had fought over the sea with the megalodon so he considers and sees punkz as a threat.. (ooooo lore oooo wiggles fingers).

He has an anchor tattoo on his back and he's Maori. :]]

[pupmkincake2000]

I once had this topic in my posts, and I want to talk about it again. Perhaps I will say the same thing, but in this context it is important to bring to the main idea.

So, the found-family trope. It has been perverted into "here's a set of characters, I've squished them into the heteronormative roles of father/mother/child". - found family CAN be that, in some cases, but that is not what the trope was initially founded on. The found family trope was built on NON-CONVENTIONAL FAMILIES/RELATIONSHIPS. It is about finding a family OUTSIDE of the one you were born into, a family that can be whoever you want, and look however you want it to. That's the very reason it's so popular in LGBT+ spaces. It is not about pushing people into strict parental/child roles. It is about finding family in other people, regardless of what they are to you. Romantic partners absolutely count as found family, so no, we are not pushing aside a lovely found-family trope for the "sake of a ship" (a silly sentence to begin with, imo, but I digress) Hank and Connor ARE found family, because you can find your family; your comfort, your helper, your partner in life, in your husband, wife, or partner. The opportunity for a queer love story does NOT cheapen anything, especially in todays world, where it's desperately needed right now.

So, when people say they are not infantilizing Connor by making Hank treat him like a son because adults are allowed to have parents and that Connor is smart and all but he’s still unexperienced when it comes to human emotions and needs someone to guide him and that Connor needs a guide, an anchor in his life I always ask myself why.

Why it has to be Connor of all androids? Why do people think Connor needs an anchor, a guide and why do they think he’s unexperienced? Considering, he’s a clever machine whose brain, or whatever he has in his head, works much faster than human being’s. Does that mean all the androids need a guide and an anchor? Isn't that infantilization? Weren't they actually shown as independent individuals? Doesn't this destroy him as an independent person who's already decided who he wanted to be and is aware of his own actions? In addition, people forget that he is not a human and he may not need the very concept of a father figure or parents/child relationships at all.

I have often seen how people who insist Connor needs a father, need a father figure themselves, in fact, they simply project their desires onto Connor and Hank due to a lack of fatherly love or attention, and some of them have directly admitted this to me. Tho, they choice of Hank as a father figure seems really ridiculous, considering how his relationships with Connor started. But then again, Connor is not a human, and such concepts may be alien to him. We do not talk about Markus here, because he lived for 10 years with a man who considered him a son from the very beginning. Therefore, Markus is the exception rather than the rule. We leave out Alice because she was essentially programmed to be a child and needs to be taken care of, this is basically her function. And there were no other examples of family relationships among androids, there were only couples.

The most interesting part is also that people who are usually against HankCon, seem like the ones who are applying their personal feelings and issues to the characters. Can your partner not be your family? Is your partner not your friend, your confidant, and the person that helps you heal and uplifts you? Those things aren’t locked to just platonic or familial relationships.

Although I'm still sure that good old stereotypes are to blame, because if Hank was younger or at least looked younger, no one would think of him as a father figure. If people are only doing this because of his age and looks (and I suspect that's the case... in most cases), it's largely the fault of the fandom itself that forces Hank into this stereotypical role. Because a lot of people who played the game, but have never been part of the fandom, have no problems seeing Hank and Connor as a potential couple or just who they are accrotding the plot - friends), it just shows how incapable they are of analyzing characters. Because according to this perspective, any human being, if they are not a child or a teenager, will be more experienced in life than any android. Shouldn't androids view all humans who are over 20 as their potential parents or parental figures then? But for some reason, if a human being looks young, no one assigns them such a role, although from such a point of view this is exactly how it should be. So either people accept that Connor is an adult, capable of making adult decisions (while remembering that he is not human), or they accept that any android is infantile by the very fact of their existence and needs a parental figure, even if humans who the androids interact with, look young.

[lutawolf]

Hello Luta,

I just found your space thanks to my personal weatherman and I'm so grateful to have stumbled onto that show. Something about it has really caught my attention and made me start thinking things about me and how much I oddly related to Yoh.

The odd part for me is my job and the position I'm in kind of force me to be in a role of dominance as a manager, and the longer I do it, the more it makes me itch and want to act out. The crazy part is I don't know how to get the itch to stop or to find a safe person to explore possible taming with or if that is even something that I would be interested in. Honestly, sorry, this might be too much. I just... I am in the middle of rural nowhere, and I'm not even sure where to start to look or explore. Plus, I work in mental health, so that limits me as well for fear of who I might run into. I'm not even sure if I am making sense at this point or even what I am asking. I think I just felt safe enough to vent somewhere without fear of judgment and grateful to see something of myself or what I think I want to be reflected in a show. Then to see your explanation and why my gut twists the way it does at certain parts helped. Anyway, thanks. Maybe that was all I was trying to do, to begin with.

Hey lovie,

Hey Hey! I'm so glad you found the show and me! Yay for another cool mutual! I saw your profile and noticed we have a lot in common, I kept expecting the profile to say you were goth too.🤣

I've been in jobs where I couldn't be the ultra dominant that I need to be, and it about killed me. So I feel you. Luckily, I just needed to hang in there for a short period of time, but it sounds like this is something that will be a long haul for you. If you are already getting an itchy feeling, you need to find someone to anchor you.

I'm making a guess here. You've come out of a relationship where your partner was a shitty dom, but a dom nonetheless. Likely a soft D/s relationship where you didn't really realize that it was D/s. Everyone told you that your partner treated you like crap, and you knew it, but there were things there that you liked and that's just how your relationship was. Am I right? Don't answer here! But I'm willing to bet Tumblr crabs on it.

There are a lot of online sites where you can meet a decent Dom. Even an online relationship would help stabilize you. But make a dedicated guideline. Look up how to make a guideline, I have one on here somewhere. Figure out what you will and won't do before going into this. If you have any questions there are several subs on here and many follow me and are more than happy to help. I would suggest looking at D/s friendships instead of relationships because those are a little softer with a little more give. You can figure out what you want before moving towards an actual relationship.

Please feel free to vent here any time. You are in a safe space and none of us will judge you. No kink shaming allowed in this location. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help. 💜💜💜

[herblackabyss]

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[Title] 7 Dates, 7 Conflicts [Rating & Genre] [M] 18+, strangers to lovers, slow burn, Collage AU [Pairing] Jeon Jungkook x Reader (Amaya Bradford) [Trigger Warnings] a few cuss words

[A/N] I'm baaacckkk~! I apologize for my absence, but I truly struggle with this whole social media and social interaction thing. I had to restructure this part because I've come to the realization that my brain doesn't quite know how to write multiple events into one part...

P.S the last bit is a mess but I'll update it soon...<3

ALSO HAPPY HUNTER DAAYYY!!

[Word Count] 2740

"This is an absolute colossal fucking disaster, Chenle," I hiss under my breath, pacing across my bedroom with my phone clutched tightly to my ear. On the other end, the low hum of my best friend's tired yawn slips through the line, the digital clock on my nightstand casting an ominous glow – 10:47 PM.

I roll my eyes, my frustration lacing into the very syllables of my words. "I mean, how on earth are we even supposed to tackle this if he's out there getting his dick sucked instead of meeting me to work on the assignment?" Veronica had given us a unique homework assignment during our last COMM101 class—a creative pair-building exercise intended to break the ice. It was supposed to be an opportunity for Jungkook and me to explore each other's perspectives and come up with something that was at least halfway decent. Yet, instead of paying even a sliver of attention, Jungkook seemed to be far more interested in sketching bizarre doodles across my meticulously taken lecture notes. Since that fateful Monday morning, I've embarked on a one-woman crusade to pin him down and get him to work on it. But every attempt I make is met with flimsy excuses and empty promises. He's always conveniently "busy" or "tied up with something else." And me? I'm not naive enough to swallow those slippery words whole, not when they spill from his slick, slithering tongue like a practiced dance. As the relentless ticking of the clock emphasizes the looming deadline for my not-so-friendly essay, the harsh reality sets in. I realize that I know next to nothing about this bumbling baboon, except for the fact that he can't seem to keep his... cock out of people's mouths. The idea of crafting an essay detailing his countless escapades with the campus coeds is tempting, but it also feels like a peculiar form of self-inflicted torture. I flop onto my bed, clutching my phone as if it's my only lifeline in this chaotic situation.

"Guess I'll just have to corner him tomorrow," I murmur to myself, feeling a potent mix of determination and resignation settle in my chest like a heavy anchor. I reach out for the worn notebook resting nearby and flip it open, its pages ready to receive my thoughts and ideas for the upcoming project, even if, for now, it's a solo endeavor. After all, if Jungkook insists on making things difficult, I'm more than willing to return the favor. "Key word: 'probably,' but I can't take that risk with Jungkook," I try to speak as calmly as possible, frustration mounting within me. There's no way I can just sit here and hope he comes to his senses. I need to take action. I shouldn't be in this position, having to babysit a grown man when it comes to his academics. I mean, seriously, I'm baffled by his attitude towards this assignment. How on earth is he the top student in the Computer Science department? Does the university randomly select his name from a hat filled with sheets of paper with only his name on them? Or is he secretly paying someone to do his assignments? "But I hope you're right," I concede with a sigh as I wrap up the call and head to bed.

"Jeon!" I shout, my voice slicing through the noisy street, instantly grabbing the attention of curious onlookers. He strides purposefully toward Avery's Bagel Shop, his arm wrapped around the waist of a wavy-haired blonde. Her stunning long legs propel her forward, her eyes locked on him, with hearts practically sparkling in them. As I watch their interaction unfold before me, it becomes painfully evident that this is a heartbreak in the making. Jungkook, of all people, isn't exactly renowned for his ability to commit, and that's common knowledge around campus. He cycles through new romantic interests every week, and he's openly professed his disinterest in love on countless occasions. Yet, here she is, hopelessly falling for him—poor thing.

I raise my voice, frustration bubbling within me as I call out to him once more. But he remains utterly indifferent, his gaze fixed solely on the entrance of the quaint, inviting eatery. With a graceful sweep, he swings the door open, his hand tenderly resting on her lower back as he ushers his companion inside. I can't help but let out an exasperated sigh, my impatience growing by the second. I shake my head in disbelief before navigating my way across the bustling street. What the fuck is his problem? Stepping through the gleaming silver double doors, I make my way to the established ordering queue. Contrary to any wild ideas he might be concocting in his thick skull, I'm not here because of him. I wanted to get some work done on a few of my assignments before making my way to Chenle's place. Avery's holds a special place in my heart— it's been my favorite spot to grab a bite and study for years. Avery, the owner, is a culinary virtuoso in her mid-thirties, a mastermind behind a medley of bagel creations that are nothing short of life-altering. Over time, she's expanded her menu to include other breakfast and lunch delights, all of which keep people coming back for more.I became a regular of Avery's in her food truck era. Back then, she operated her modest business right in the heart of the city, serving her delectable creations from a weathered, banged-up red truck.Since then, I haven't looked back, it feels like I've gained a good friend and a great place to study when I need to. "Are you planning to ignore me for the rest of your life?" I say, my voice filled with frustration as I approach Jungkook. He's engrossed in a conversation with the blonde, oblivious to my approach. It amuses me how much effort he invests in girls he never intends to pursue beyond a casual fling. I mean, what's the point of all this when there are no intentions of going any further?

I watch as he slowly turns his head to identify the source of the voice. When he realizes it's me, his expression shifts, but he doesn't reply. The blonde clinging to his arm shoots me a nasty glare, clearly annoyed that I've interrupted their conversation. It's even more amusing to me that there are girls who willingly put themselves in such situations with guys like Jungkook, thinking they can be the ones to change them. "The assignment is due in just four days, Jeon, and I haven't even started because of you," I huff, frustration gnawing at me as I rummage through my bag to find my purse. Earlier, he had told me he had important matters to attend to today, which was why he couldn't meet with me. When I proposed meeting later in the day, he promptly shot down the idea, insisting he didn't have the time. So you can imagine my surprise when I spotted him with his little date. Emerging from the depths of my bag with my purse in hand, I shift my gaze toward him, awaiting his response. But there's nothing. No glimmer of recognition in his eyes, no hint of acknowledgment. He just stands there, unmoving, as if I'm invisible.

Is he really going to stand there and ignore me like a petulant child

I exhale a deep sigh, my eyes narrowing as I focus on the back of his head, frustration bubbling up inside me like a simmering volcano. A million wicked scenarios play out in my mind, each one more devious than the last, all focused on how I could effectively sabotage his date.

A mischievous thought dances through my mind. What if I were to swing my bag, aiming it at that unsuspecting, utterly useless head of his? And just for good measure, I could give his blonde friend a forcefully playful shove, a move that would surely knock her on her ass.

Or perhaps... A sly smirk gradually creeps across my face as a more subtle, yet equally potent, idea blossoms in my mind. It's nothing too extravagant, but I have complete confidence that it will work like a charm.

As I stand here, contemplating my revenge plot, I can't help but notice that the queue opposite the one I'm currently in has emptied out. Without missing a beat, I smoothly slide into that vacancy, feeling a rush of anticipation building within me. My eyes immediately fixate on the illuminated board behind the cashier's head. I tilt my head to the side, carefully examining my options before allowing my gaze to shift to Jungkook, whose irritated expression is now in plain view.

As I observe, a smug grin slowly creeps across my face. I can't help but revel in the satisfaction that washes over me as I witness the subtle twitch in his furrowed brow and the rhythmic clenching of his jaw. The tension practically oozes from his pores, an electrifying aura that I can almost taste. After all, he doesn't deserve to have a good day, not after all those lies he's been feeding me these past few days. I'm in absolute awe of his extraordinary ability to seemingly disregard my very presence. My eyes meticulously track his every move, from the way he confidently places orders for both himself and his date, to the charming, heart-melting smile he offers her and with a delicate touch, he tucks a strand of her golden locks behind her ear. It's almost as if the world revolves around them, and everyone else in the room merely fades into the background. I watch, captivated, as he tenderly grasps her hand, guiding her with a gentle assurance toward a cozy booth nestled in a secluded corner of the establishment. They settle in, their bodies so close that their shoulders brush against each other, creating an aura of intimacy that's impossible to ignore. Their conversation flows effortlessly, brimming with laughter and whispered sweet nothings. I have to admit, this guy knows exactly what to do to make a girl feel special.

A simmer of irritation bubbles beneath my skin, while amusement dances at the edges of my thoughts. Jungkook, so blissfully unaware of just how persistent I can be and utterly clueless about my insatiable appetite for pettiness, continues to test my tolerance for his behavior daily. What he doesn't know is that I've always been known for my excellence in theatrics, and quite frankly, if Jungkook wants to put on a performance, I'll give him a whole damn show.

As soon as I place my order, I waste not a single second in moving toward my target. I stride with unwavering purpose toward their booth, my head held high, my hips swaying seductively as I saunter across the room. A mischievous glint flickers in my eyes as I gracefully slide into the seat right beside him, his murderous glare meeting my unflinching gaze.

I respond with a sickeningly sweet smile, my voice dripping with a teasing tone, my eyes twinkling with faux longing. "I haven't seen you since Monday, Jeon. I really missed you," I say, letting a pout form on my plump lips as I lean in closer to him. My gaze shifts to his date as I rest my head on his shoulder. "Who's this, Kook?" I mumble, deliberately ignoring the way his fists clench between us. I'm fully aware that my intrusion on his little date will undoubtedly annoy the ever-loving shit out of him.

He exchanges a quick, awkward glance with his date, who appears thoroughly confused and uncomfortable with my sudden presence. I release a sigh, my gaze carefully assessing her features. "My replacement, perhaps?" I ask, shifting my attention back to him. I catch that split-second flicker of surprise on his face – he clearly didn't expect me to say that. "Amaya," he warns, his demeanor growing stern as he clenches his jaw, clearly struggling to maintain his composure. But if I'm completely honest, I've never been one to heed warnings; Chenle always claimed that it would take a miracle worker to handle my attitude. "I'm Amaya, by the way. You?" My focus shifts to her.

"Kiarra," she whispers, her voice barely audible, and I notice her eyes closely following my fingers as they delicately trace the contours of Jungkook's exposed neck. Her lips curl into a condescending smile as she shifts to the seat opposite ours. Girls like Kiarra, the quintessential "it" girl, always seem to gravitate towards guys like my insufferable group member.

To be honest, I've got her type down pat. Her shallowness cuts through the layers of designer labels and caked-on makeup. She gives off vibes of someone who places an exorbitant amount of importance on her position within the social hierarchy, evident in the meticulous effort she pours into her appearance.

She's undoubtedly frequented the finest surgeons, splurged on the most lavish clothes, and surrounds herself with a clique of girls who are both beautiful and, well, rather uninteresting. "So, how did you end up meeting my favorite boy?" I ask, a gentle smile gracing my lips, my head still comfortably nestled on his shoulder, my gaze locked onto her as we engage in this unspoken standoff. She's challenging me for control of the situation. "We met at Jimin's party last week," she responds with a manufactured smile, her impeccably white teeth on full display. However, I can discern the underlying annoyance in her eyes, even through her facade.

"Jimin's party," I inquire, my brows furrowing in faux hurt, pretending to be genuinely surprised as I maintain that delicate touch along Jungkook's collarbone. My fingers trace a slow, teasing path, eliciting a subtle shiver from him. "I'm hurt, Kookie. You told me you were too busy," I pout, my tone dripping with feigned disappointment. I shift my gaze to Jungkook, my eyes wide and glistening, attempting to make it appear as if I'm truly saddened by his recent evasiveness.

Kiarra, caught off guard by my interaction with Jungkook, shifts uncomfortably in her seat. She clears her throat, her irritation growing the longer I linger. "Well, I guess he had some free time after all," she retorts, her voice laced with hostility. The cracks in little miss perfect's facade are becoming more apparent, and I can practically feel the tension radiating off Jungkook in waves. He's obviously annoyed by my intrusion, but by the look on his face, you could never tell well aside from his clenched jaw. "Amaya, what are you doing?" His deep voice carries a warning as he slowly turns his head to look down at me, his dark eyes fixed on mine.

I maintain my act, tilting my head ever so slightly to meet his gaze, a playful smile dancing on my lips. "I mean, I have to get your attention somehow, right?" I respond, my voice brimming with faux innocence. Leaning in a little closer, my lips hover dangerously close to his ear, and I whisper, "Besides, it's been weeks, and you've been so absorbed in... other endeavors." I punctuate my statement with a sly wink.

Kiarra's perfectly manicured nails clench onto the edge of her designer bag as she observes our little spectacle, clearly flustered.

Drawing even nearer to Jungkook, my lips graze his ear as I murmur, "You know, we do make quite the convincing pair, don't you think?" My words are laced with just enough mischief to set him on edge, and I can see the gears turning in his head as he contemplates how to navigate this unexpected scenario. "Excuse me," she mutters, abruptly pushing her chair back and rising to her feet. Her frustration is palpable in her tone.

"Leaving so soon?" I inquire, my voice dripping with feigned concern.

Jungkook attempts to intervene, but Kiarra is already making her way toward the exit. "Kiarra, wait," he pleads, reaching out for her, but she brushes past him without a second glance.

With a theatrical sigh, I rest my head on Jungkook's shoulder once more. "Well, that didn't go as planned, did it?"

Jungkook rolls his eyes, a hint of amusement twinkling in his gaze. "You're un-fucking-believable."

I flash him a mischievous grin, my façade dropping as Kiarra departs. "Just rescuing you from a bad date, Kookie," I remark with a wink. "And reminding you that you can't keep avoiding our assignment forever." With a satisfied hum, I smoothly slide out of the booth and stride toward the exit, shooting him a playful wink before making my way to Chenle's place.

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[69misato69]

Forever and After (Zhongli and Childe) ✦ 2k, angst, fluff and comfort

archive of our own ✦ twitter

masterlist pinned on my profile !

childe is suffering from nightmares after leaving the abyss, one night zhongli wakes up to comfort him and he also happens to have an interesting proposal

cw: ptsd and nightmares, mentions of trauma

writer's note: explicit +18 content, please view at your own risk. thank you, have fun !

“Don’t…”

“Don’t want to go…back…please.”

“Ajax?” Zhongli mumbled, holding Childe in his arms as the ex-harbinger slurred in his sleep. “Please don’t…don’t send me back.” Childe was gripping onto Zhongli’s shirt, chest heaving with anxiety. “Can’t leave him, I can’t lea—” Zhongli was finally awake, noticing that his boyfriend was having a nightmare. Ever since he left the Fatui, he’d see more or less the same one in which people forced him back into the abyss. 

Zhongli grasped his arms firmly, Childe opened his eyes, wide and horrified, jumping back so that he almost fell off from the bed but was stopped by Zhongli’s hold. “Stop it, don’t touch me.” he cried out, though his eyes were open he kept seeing the vision of his dream. “It’s me, Ajax. It’s just a nightmare, wake up.” Zhongli spoke soothingly, Childe’s gaze softened as he stopped fighting back, confused and out of breath.

“You’re not there. We’re in bed, our bed. This is our house, remember?” Zhongli kept explaining to ground him and shatter the illusion. “You were sleeping in my arms. Everything is okay.” Childe was slowly processing, arms getting weak from trying to push away Zhongli. His breaths were still shaky, heart beating so loud that both of them could hear the thumping in the dead silence of the room. “Zhongli?” Childe asked, unsure and anxious as a vulnerable prey out in the wild. 

“Yes. Come to me, my love.” Zhongli’s back met the headboard as he sat up. Childe hesitantly moved towards him, still unable to see properly. Zhongli knowingly refrained from guiding him, patiently waiting as his lover made his way to his lap, first holding onto his bare thighs and positioning himself on top of them. Childe’s breathing was finally returning to its normal pace, he sat on Zhongli’s lap, using his warmth as an anchor point. 

The images were still burned into his brain, “Zhongli…” he stopped when his voice cracked. Zhongli held his waist, fingers lightly tracing the outline of his toned muscles. “No rush, take your time.” he reassured. Childe took a deep breath and leaned forward, arms finally wrapping around his boyfriend’s neck, face buried down while he inhaled the familiar scent. His embrace tightened and Zhongli took it as a sign to hug him back. 

Silent tears wetted the ex-archon’s neck, slowly turning into weeping and then loud sobs. He held Childe close, palm soothingly rubbing his back. “It’s over. I won’t let anyone take you away from me.” he cooed. It was all he could do, Zhongli wasn’t used to being so useless. He could carve mountains and defeat all opponents stupid enough to cross his path, but when it came to Childe, even though it was killing him to see his beloved go through this, he felt utterly useless. 

He wanted to be able to take away the pain, erase all that gave him discomfort. When he was first adapting to human life, Zhongli had promised himself to never be associated with a human romantically. They were fragile and emotion-driven, terrified of change, lost in the unimportant day-to-day businesses of their superficial understanding of the world. Zhongli held no resentment for them, quite the opposite in fact, he deeply cherished humans. But he, realistically, deemed it impossible to fall for one. 

That was until he met Childe. He wasn’t the type that loved opening up. Cheerful and talkative, he could go on until the morning about whatever, but Zhongli was an attentive listener. During their dinners he had noticed that Childe, even though he talked a lot, never mentioned anything personal about himself.

Sure, he would drop some crumbs here and there about his family and home-life, but never an event that deeply impacted him, and especially never his opinions about the Fatui or the archons. That was the first observation that reeled Zhongli in. From what he had seen, humans liked to vent about their life, curse and complain about the unfortunate inconveniences of the day. But not Childe, he was blabbering all day without giving away a single clue.

As time went by and Zhongli diligently worked towards gaining his trust, Childe began to show him the layers that were underneath, concealed by his outgoing, confident and funny façade. He started with small details, Childe was secretive but he also realized that a relationship with Zhongli was impossible to attain without honesty. 

He talked about his childhood, the joyful moments mostly, how much he missed his parents and siblings, how he had to keep lying to them for as long as he was associated with the Fatui. Zhongli listened to all of it, smiling at the tender memories, brows furrowing at the rather serious ones. He wouldn’t talk much during, allowing Childe’s thoughts to flow freely. When he was done he’d pose questions, ask for more details on topics he found intriguing. 

Childe seemed okay with telling him all of these, he answered all of Zhongli’s questions in a comfortable and joyful manner. Then one day, after a few drinks, he told him the story he never told anyone ever before. The story of how he fell into the abyss, the “three” days he spent there, his training, how he came back, trying to balance this new, vicious power with his ordinary life and failing miserably.

After that, everyone had noticed how different he was from his usual self, and Childe just had to go with it. A part of him liked the admiration and praise, the Tsaritsa’s rewards, and how his weaker opponents watched him with envy. But Childe never wanted to change, and he certainly never wanted to leave his family behind. Before he could realize, life had carried him to a point of no return, like a rock flowing in an effusive river, unable to fight back. 

The night he told Zhongli all this was the first night the ex-archon saw him crack. No matter how hard it was, Childe finished his story with a single tear rolling down his cheek. His lower lip was trembling as he held the chair with a harsh grip to keep his hands from shaking. He was fierce and raw in battle, Zhongli loved that sight, but the rawness he witnessed then and there, it was truly heart-breaking. 

“Would you like me to hold you?” he had asked for the first time and Childe had nodded yes, if he spoke, he would start crying his eyes out. That was their first hug, the first of many more to come. Though his old life had been left behind, Zhongli was a dragon after all. Territorial and unchanging. He liked building a stable life with Childe, being his everything, a good friend and a caring lover, supporting him in his endeavors. 

The people of Liyue had depended on him for as long as he could remember, but Childe’s dependance on him felt entirely different. The way Childe looked at him with that loving gaze, encasing his fingers in his warm palms, snuggling up close to him like a stray cat every chilly night, how he would randomly turn towards him with the cutest smile and say “Xiansheng, you know I love you, right?” 

It made Zhongli want to become a safe haven for him. Isolated from the disgusting realities of the world, a place where he could rest comfortably without a worry. But of course, nothing could ever be perfect. 

Childe had become relatively calmer, playing with Zhongli’s hair to distract himself. The brunette cupped his cheek, thumb grazing over the strawberry freckles. “You won’t ever go through that ever again. I’ll be by your side until my last breath, Ajax. I promise.” he placed a kiss on the ginger’s forehead, Childe chuckled as the tears came streaming down his face again, “Stop making me cry. What kind of a husband—” he got cut-off with a disoriented look on his face once again. 

Zhongli’s brows raised as Childe held his own ring finger, finding it to be empty. He looked down with embarrassment, “Oh. It’s just that in my dream we were…Sorry.” he couldn’t really bring himself to say the rest. “Married?” Zhongli completed his sentence. “Yeah… Husbands.” Childe’s eyes remained fixated on his lap. Zhongli gently lifted his chin, moonlight illuminating the pink shade of his cheeks. 

“I like the sound of that.” he smiled. Childe was adding an element to his life that was long forgotten by Zhongli: excitement. The ginger was still perplexed, “Me too.” he said, then suddenly processed what Zhongli had just said, “Wait, you do?” 

Zhongli lightly chuckled, “Of course. I mean, it certainly sounds more serious than boyfriends.” Childe was still unable to tell if he was joking or not, he kept looking at him in disbelief. “I’ve thought about it for a couple weeks now. But, surely I would hate to force you into something you don’t want.” Zhongli continued. His voice was almost too calm for someone talking about a possible wedding. 

Childe rubbed his eyes, exhaustion returning to his body once again. “You…thought about marrying me?” He was beginning to think that maybe he hadn’t really woken up. Zhongli pulled him close by the waist, pressing a kiss onto his lips, coated with salty tears, “Of course, why wouldn’t I?” 

Childe was stunned, the thought of Zhongli wanting him already baffled the ex-harbinger everyday, he didn’t know what he saw in him, but whatever it was, Childe was grateful for it. Even though them leaving the Fatui and giving up the Gnosis together was a huge commitment, this was different. All their previous commitments affected the entire continent, but this one was reserved for the two of them. A shared life, a life they would build together. 

“Not because of me but, I just thought you…wouldn’t be into that. I don’t know, Xiansheng. You’re a God, and marriage is… It’s a human thing, you know?” Childe rambled, he really didn’t want to offend Zhongli, there was no ulterior motive under his astonishment, he just simply didn’t understand. Zhongli smiled, “You’re a ‘human thing’ too.” 

Childe’s cheeks turned red again with the realization of how committed Zhongli was to him. He would underestimate it often, thinking that he didn’t truly deserve it. The loving gaze in the ex-archon’s eyes would always prove otherwise. Zhongli hummed, “To be honest, I thought the same about you. You never expressed any fondness for marriage, I assumed you didn’t care for it at the moment, but I still made something with Xingxi. I wasn’t planning on giving it to you until we talked about it.” Zhongli petted the back of Childe’s hair as he talked.  

“Zhongli…” he said, weakly. “I really don’t mind if you refuse. You’ve already made me the happiest I have ever been. If you don’t like the idea, we can just have them as promise rings.” he reached for the top drawer, getting out a small pouch and placing it on the ginger’s palm.

Childe’s hand trembled as he released the small, circular piece of darkened amber from the fabric. He had never seen this shade of it before, it was breath-taking. Even just looking at a piece of it made you feel like you were watching the sunset from a high peak of Liyue. Childe held it towards the moonlight, noticing the engraving inside. 

Even when I turn to dust, my spirit will roam the skies to unite with yours.

“Zhongli.” Childe grabbed the brunette’s shirt to get his undivided attention. “Yes, my dear?” Zhongli purred. 

“Are you…proposing to me?” 

A smile took over Zhongli’s face. Images flowed into his head, Childe saying yes, their wedding, their first dance as husbands, moving into a new house at a more secluded place, leaving all the ugly parts of this life behind, being with him for as long as he could. He didn’t have any doubts but the possibility of him saying no. But right then, it felt more right than anything ever did. Being with Childe felt right, and that was never going to change. “I suppose I am.” he answered. 

“Say the thing. I want to hear it.” tears were once again rolling off Childe’s chin as he traced his finger over the engraving. Zhongli chuckled and held the ginger’s puffy face between his palms. The glow of his amber eyes illuminated Childe’s face, “Ajax, will you marry me?”

[casspurrjoybell-19]

Does it Matter? - Chapter 65 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

A sharp pain in his forearm snapped Bug back to reality.

He opened his eyes to find Cassie whining as she bit him, stopping as soon as she had his attention.

For a terrifying moment, he thought Brayan was gone but then he saw him hanging off the side of the raft, bobbing in the water.

"Brayan," Bug cried, lunging toward the edge.

Brayan tried to reach out with his injured arm and hissed in pain.

"Other arm, come on," Bug urged, helping him back onto the raft.

"What are you doing in the water?"

"Trying to get us back to shore. You seemed busy."

A brief pause.

"What happened?"

Bug repeated his explanation as he fussed over Brayan.

He was soaking wet.

They still had hours to go before nightfall but the wet clothes would make the darkness dangerously cold and sometime in the night, according to every vision, Brayan would slip away.

Was this really how it ended, after everything?

What about the vision of the tomatoes and glass building, where Brayan had been alive and well?

It hadn't happened yet but it had to... all his other special visions had come true.

They had no food and more pressingly, no water.

Brayan had started commenting on being thirsty.

He'd laid down a while ago and he was asking his questions less and less often.

Bug wasn't sure that was a good thing.

Bug lay half on top of Brayan to ensure he couldn't move without notice, closed his eyes and peered into the future.

He physically startled at the sight of a sprawling tree of bright lights, endless possibilities for life.

Glancing just minutes ahead into one branch, he saw...

"Ship," Brayan said and Bug's eyes flew open.

Bug leapt to his feet, the raft rocking precariously and shouted with all his might.

Cassie joined in, barking alongside him.

The ship slowed, lowering its sails.

Bug didn't let himself worry about who might be aboard or their intentions but Brayan's gaze was narrow and calculating.

The ship anchored and minutes later a rowboat was lowered with two long-haired figures in loose, colourful clothing.

As they drew closer, Bug realised one was a man and the other a woman.

Brayan's hand settled on the hilt of his sword.

"Well, what happened here?" the woman asked as they rowed nearer, her voice jarringly cheerful given the circumstances.

"Uhh..." was all Brayan could manage.

"We had an accident," Bug explained quickly.

"We were on a bridge and it broke. We got washed down a river and out to sea. Please, can you help us?"

"Yeah, I think we might be able to," the woman said, but she made a pained face when she noticed Brayan's head wound.

"Help us get the dog over first."

Cassie, uneasy but compliant, allowed herself to be transferred to the rowboat.

Brayan proved more challenging, struggling to remember he could only use one arm.

After reaching the ship, getting him from the rowboat up the side was even more difficult.

Bug suspected Brayan could physically manage the rope ladder one-armed but he couldn't seem to work out how.

Eventually, they had him cling to it while they hauled him up.

Bug followed, greeted at the top by a tall woman with wild, dark hair and stormy eyes.

"Interesting company you keep," she remarked, clasping Bug's hand.

"We can toss him back, if you like."

"No," Bug said immediately.

"He's a good man. He's my friend."

The woman shrugged.

Despite her callous words, crew members had laid out blankets for Brayan and brought him water.

The mixed appearances of the crew confirmed Bug's suspicion, this was a Wrasher vessel.

Bug cast his voice lower so that Brayan wouldn't hear.

"I need to find help for him or he won't survive the morning."

"There's only so much anyone can do for something like that. Mostly, just keep them comfortable."

"There's magic. There's..." Bug shook his head.

"I don't know. I do know that there is an infinite number of things that could have become of us and your ship finding us wasn't likely. It happened because it was supposed to happen and if that's the case, this isn't how things end. We have to keep going. Do you know of a harbour to the north-west? A hidden one that only Wrasher know about?"

Her posture stiffened, eyes narrowing.

"Well, you're no Wrasher, so I don't know what you'd know about something like that."

"I don't know much but I'm a seer and I know I'm meant to go there. We're being guided. That has to be it. That has to be how he survives."

"I'm the Captain of this ship," she said, patting her chest.

"Zara. If we take you somewhere you shouldn't be, I'm the one who has to deal with the consequences. An Eth might be forgivable but him..."

"He is dying," Bug insisted, keeping his voice low.

"Either I'm right and this is how he lives or..."

Zara considered him for a long moment before nodding.

"I can't argue with that. What's your name?"

"Buagh," Bug found himself saying.

"Buagh, go sit with your friend. He keeps reaching for his sword and it's making my crew twitchy. I need to get this ship turned around."

Bug sat beside Brayan as Zara mobilised her crew.

Instead of another round of questions, Brayan had fallen into an unsettling silence.

He struggled to sit up, vomited the water he'd just drunk, then groaned as he lay back down, squeezing his eyes shut.

Once the anchor was raised and the sails adjusted, Zara moved to the ship's bow.

She raised her arms and a sudden gust of wind caught the sails, propelling them forward.

Bug squeezed his eyes shut.

Despite what he'd said to Zara, he didn't dare believe that everything was going to be okay.

[kaitothefirst]

Independent Academic Excursion: Tokyo Tower- May 10

Article: Tokyo Tower and Tokyo Skytree: History and Symbolism in Contemporary Japan by Yunuen Ysela Mandujano-Salazar- https://www.semanticscholar.org/paper/Tokyo-Tower-and-Tokyo-Skytree%3A-History-and-in-Japan-Mandujano-Salazar/89575e1e56d1b3481321c8135c1d610082fc8fa2

Summary

This article discusses the history, cultural significance, and physical appearance of Tokyo Tower and Tokyo Skytree. Mandujano-Salazar mentions the contrast between past and present perceptions of the Tokyo Tower’s symbolism, its media portrayals, the inspiration behind its design, and its status as a tourist destination.

Traveling to Tokyo Tower

Tokyo Tower felt like an obvious choice to travel to for my independent excursion. Throughout my childhood, I read and watched media, such as Sailor Moon and Tokyo Mew Mew, that depict Tokyo Tower as a powerful architectural symbol to bind the characters and their setting to the real world. Although we saw its peak when walking in and out of the Tokyo American Club, I felt the need to see it during the daytime when it stands out in red and white among the other buildings (without the lights). I also really wanted to be able to see its base. As such, I took the train over and found a good spot to admire it without any crowding buildings. Pictures do not seem to do justice to the massive size of the tower. It almost had an intimidating presence when I could occasionally see it from far away through building clearings. However, I was not exactly interested in paying to go up onto its observation decks, as we had already been up the much taller Tokyo Skytree (which probably gave a better view). Despite my recent habit of hopping trains to constantly get moving to other places in Tokyo, after I took my pictures of the tower, I ended up just sitting by its base and looking up at it for a solid 45 minutes. Just about the only thing that kept me from staying there longer was my self-discipline to be back at the hotel before dark. Tokyo Tower really had me thinking about the immense and internationally recognized cultural importance of the city through which I have going on excursions. It was definitely a good choice to take my time with this sight given how much more I was able to appreciate Tokyo afterwards.

Academic Reflection

It seems almost painfully obvious to state that Tokyo Tower represents so much more than the functional tourist destination that so many Americans visit on their trips to Japan. An analysis of its symbolism calls to attention the initial intent behind its construction. Mandujano-Salazar describes how Tokyo Tower’s historical context involves Japan wishing to display an icon of their rapidly growing and hopeful nation in the years after World War II and the American occupation. Specifically, Hisakichi Maeda, founder of the Nippon Television City Corporation, intended to build a broadcasting tower that resembled the Eiffel Tower but bigger. After visiting the tower, I can say that he definitely succeeded in terms of constructing a truly grand representation of an optimistic society. Now that I’ve seen the base in person, the way it is divided into four “legs” to anchor itself to the ground really reminded me of the Eiffel Tower. Its exaggerated stature, shooting off into a point towards the sky, gave off the intended impression of the growing world power that Japan was in the 20th century. The way it noticeably protruded from behind other buildings as I walked closer conveyed the notion of a force to be reckoned with. Even as I was leaving back to the station, nearby pedestrians were looking up at the tower from far away an exclaiming at how big it is. Considering these angles on its structure, Tokyo Tower provides a glimpse into the past regarding how the Japanese viewed their nation.

The pop culture media aspect of Tokyo Tower is another important factor in understanding the depth of its cultural significance (and one that I clearly appreciate). Mandujano-Salazar describes how many portrayals of the tower in media involve themes of magic or love. This seems to appeal to Tokyo Tower’s “softer” symbolism outside of the “growing powerful nation” portrayal. Looking at the tower’s surreal shape, impressive size, and bright red and white visuals among the many surrounding neutral-colored buildings, it makes sense that it would be romanticized in such a way. However, romanticization is not the only way Tokyo Tower fits into many stories. Mandujano-Salazar also explains that the tower is a common victim of destruction in many mid-20th-century giant monster (kaiju) films. This depiction, as stated in the article, reflects the traumatic memories of much of the Japanese public regarding what was its recent defeat (and, in many areas, destruction) at the end of World War II. It seems that, even when it was first constructed, the tower captured the hearts of Japanese people as it stood for everything that they recovered for themselves in the aftermath of destruction. Another common means by which Tokyo Tower appears in Japanese media, according to Mandujano-Salazar, is as a symbol of wealth. He states that, as it is located in a relatively wealthy area of Tokyo, its appearance in media gives off the impression that the characters are in a highly important place. This aspect of its portrayal became very understandable to me on my way to the tower. I walked there from the area around Azabu-juban and Roppongi, where there was absolutely no shortage of luxury European cars and Japan-residing Americans wearing clearly expensive clothing. Even I felt important just simply being surrounded by so many people who were enjoying their time off work by driving around in their Porsche SUVs. With so many different media portrayals, the visibility and status of Tokyo Tower as an icon of the city only grows. Even my visit could be considered the product of the tower’s abundant media-prone features. In this sense, Tokyo Tower maintains a complex role in the minds of the Japanese public and people around the world who have engaged with it by different mediums. Visiting the tower up close helped me fully understand the reasoning behind the many different perspectives that individuals maintain about such an iconic building.

[sacrilegious-skeletal-scribe]

lion pit maintenance from the banks of a gravel bed

i have you propped onto this shaking dining room table that neither of us own

the both of us shaking with it

because you’re laughing into my shoulder as i do my best gladiator impression

as i appraise you like a treasure i have won 

(i am laughing with you because if anyone ever tried to win you you’d have seduced your way onto their tongue)

(and bitten down with as much force as you could manage before someone pulled you off)

there’s an unfinished puzzle, somewhere near the center of the shaking table

i can hear cardboard moving around as we sway into each other

and i bite the inside of my mouth to kill the urge to sneak an arm around you 

to snap one between my fingers

little stale piece of paper and incomplete story piece and glossy ink

to appraise it for a second, catch it in the light until the sheen of a factory press blurs the colors past recognition

to pop it into my mouth before your eyes have finished tracking my wrist and swallow

and i can tell myself that i’ve been keeping myself from eating gravel since i was seven

and that the click of falling pieces instigated that deep-rooted instinct to put foreign objects in my mouth and find out what happens when i bite through them

i can tell myself that there is a poetry to unfinishable puzzles

that i will make this moment eternal in a frustration i will never see

that it’s the closest thing to etching our initials on the underside of the rocking wood we can get to without signing our names on the crime

that i’ve always found love declarations made of hearts and initials tacky

but mostly it’s that i hate the owner of this dining room table

and i know the kind of attention she affords a half-finished puzzle

a one-inch stretch of cardboard is a very small price to pay

to leave her with an unfinished accomplishment, and a wriggle of paranoia, and a picture she will never love fully

(and i am projecting again)

i am no stranger to theft

but consumption carries the weight of the divine

the difference of destruction to unmaking, of a little finesse and some calculated misery

(you have murmured something into my collarbone and it is very hard to hear anything over the footsteps roaring in my ears)

i mouth something appropriate back at you as your face blanches

so either i’ve gotten a lot worse at this or some of those footsteps are real

but i left the back door unlocked on our way in and she’s never been god’s most efficient little soldier

even when it comes to ruining afternoons

so i anchor my weight to my heels and move to retreat with you

to capture this priceless treasure and recede from the pit of my enemy 

and i’m starting to lose track of the story we were spinning

because my wrist is still stretched around you and i can see loose pieces scant inches from my fingertips

and i am hesitating

because i was raised according to the interest of polite country folk and social standing

and the saliva in my mouth is starting to taste of glossy fruit and mania

and i’ve been trying not to listen to one of those

(and she’s still coming inside)

i am your roving head and gladiator

and i am going to travel us far from the reach of a squealing door and footsteps that still set something alight in my chest when i hear them

i am going to carry us over an aging back porch, with its groaning spine

and i am going to ignore the urge to clear a little counter space and leave a heartfelt note

and i am probably not going to burn my mother’s house down

(i suspect i’m probably going to try)