#there is possibly more to this but i no longer wish to unpack that right now

[ilaliya]

i suppose, in a way, books made me feel closer to my father when i was living apart from him for the first time.

some of my earliest memories are of me running about my father's library, selecting books at random, and having him read to me.

[hbyrde36]

Caught in the Undertow

Hi, 👋 Welcome to another old fic made new again! I promise this is my last re-write, but in similar fashion to Times Like These I found myself fixated recently on giving this fic the more practiced hand it deserves. I hadn't planned on posting much about it until the full re-write was done, but with the Steddie big bang deadline rapidly approaching, it's going to take a little longer than I thought. (And being a slut for encouragement, I figured why not start sharing the first 5 redone chapters now while I work on the rest, in hopes someone will enjoy it.)

Summary:

Against all odds, Steve Harrington saved Eddie Munson from certain death. And Eddie doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forgive him for it.

Chapter One

WC: 1980 | R: Explicit | TW: Suicidal ideation/depression | Ch 1/10 | AO3

~Eddie~

On some level, Eddie had always sort-of wanted to die. 

He never planned it out, and he wouldn’t actually do anything about it—probably—but he fantasized about it a lot. 

Which was maybe something he should unpack with a therapist at some point, but that type of thing wasn’t really in the budget for a kid who lived in a trailer park and sold a little weed on the side for extra cash.

Sometimes, on the really bad nights just before falling asleep, he found himself wishing, praying even, not that he really believed in such things, to just not wake up again. And deep down he knew that if he were ever faced with the opportunity to bow out, so to speak, especially in a way that wouldn’t burden anyone—bonus points for a blaze of glory—he’d take it.

The idea came to him as he was helping Dustin to climb up the sheet rope and into the safety of the right-side-up, the thumping sound of the bats throwing themselves into the sides of the trailer, trying so desperately to get in, grating on his already frayed nerves.

It had truly been the week from hell. 

He was cold, dirty, and scared. Overwhelmed with the new reality he’d been forced to accept with exactly zero time to process, and having to come to terms with the fact that there’d been a whole other world existing right under his feet for fucking years, all while on the run from the cops, as well as a community calling for his head on a pike. 

It left him with that all too familiar feeling—weary down to his bones in a way that no nap or good night’s sleep could ever cure.

It wasn’t even a debate in his mind.

Eddie pulled his switchblade out from one of the many pockets on the snazzy green vest Harrington had picked up for him from The Warzone, and slashed the rope, ensuring that Dustin couldn’t follow him—ensuring the kid’s safety before rushing out into the dark to lead the bats away.

Life sure was funny, he thought wryly as he mounted one of the bikes they’d left behind during their last jaunt into the Upside Down, it can take you to places you never even dreamed of, and yet you’ll still wind up exactly where you’re meant to be. 

He peddled as fast as he could, trying to get the bats as far away from the gate as possible.

This was it, the chance he’d always longed for, and at least this way he could leave knowing his life meant something. His sacrifice would keep Dustin safe, keep the demobats out of their world, and buy more time for Harrington and the girls to kill Vecna.

It was a win-win.

And really, what sort of life would he be going back to anyway?

Devil worshiper, cult leader, freak, murderer. It was too many labels, too many things to overcome, just too much, the way he’d always been too much. Too loud, too different, too broken for anyone to want to get too close. 

Worse—when he wasn’t busy being too much, he wasn't enough. Not smart enough, clearly. Who takes this many tries to graduate high school? Not a good enough son, if his parents dumping him on Wayne’s doorstep and never looking back was any indication.

Wayne.

Thinking of the older man caused a brief stab of guilt. Uncle Wayne would be sad when he was gone, no question. The old man wasn’t shy about his love for his only nephew, but honestly this was for the best for him too. One less thing to worry about, and one less mouth to feed. It couldn’t have been easy on his uncle all these years. Raising a kid was never easy, surely, let alone raising someone else’s, but Eddie had no doubt that he’d posed an especially unique challenge.

It wasn’t long before Eddie’s legs failed him, exhaustion making them feel like lead, slowing his pace to the point that the bats were right on his tail, the bulk of the swarm a swirling black cloud above him. One of the little fuckers peeled away from the group, swooping down to knock him from the bike. He flew over the handlebars, hitting the dirt hard, rolling several times before coming to a stop and scrambling back to his feet. 

Eddie screamed his pain at the advancing hoard, banging his shield and raising it against the onslaught of gnashing teeth and beating wings. 

He stood his ground. 

He didn’t give up.

He fought to the very end, until he was overtaken and brought to the ground, laid out like a feast for his unsightly foe.

Later—minutes or hours he had no sense of time anymore, as he lay there dying, soaking the ground beneath him as he bled out, Eddie wondered at his own actions. It must have been a reflex, some long dormant base instinct to survive popping up at the last second, because why else would he fight so hard when it would have made more sense to not? When the writing was on the wall, when this was what he wanted?

Eddie had wanted this.

Hadn’t he?

~Steve~

Steve was soaring. 

He was fucking ecstatic. 

They did it, they’d killed Vecna. 

They fucking won for once, their years-long nightmare finally over for good. 

He, Nancy, and Robin smiled at each other, laughing in hysterical relief as they bounded down the crumbling old steps of the Creel house, the criss-crossing vines that decorated nearly every surface laying dead and dormant. 

The walk back to Forest Hills was spent recounting every detail of their battle. Each one of Nancy’s expert shots, and every molotov cocktail that Steve and Robin had thrown. So sure he was that their little group had had the most dangerous job, save for maybe Max, it didn’t even cross Steve’s mind to worry about the others just yet. He couldn't wait to see Dustin's face, to celebrate this victory with him and the rest of the twerps. 

It wasn’t until they were nearly back to the trailer that he realized something had gone terribly, horribly wrong.

He heard Dustin’s cries long before he saw him, and Steve didn’t hesitate to take off running as fast as his legs would carry him in the direction of the sound, trusting that the girls would follow. 

Steve’s heart dropped when the scene finally came into view—Dustin with his head bowed, sobbing as he knelt over the lifeless body of Eddie Munson.

“What happened?” Steve asked, skidding to a stop at their side, dropping to his knees next to the younger boy.

“H-he said he was gonna buy more time. The bats started getting into the trailer and he made me go through the gate first—he made me—and then he cut the rope and then he—” Dustin's voice shook, his eyes shining and red rimmed as he raised his head to meet Steve’s gaze. “He’s gone.”

Those two words broke something inside Steve. 

He couldn't allow this, wouldn’t accept it. They fucking won goddamn it. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. If any one of them wasn’t going to make it out of this place alive, it should have been him, not Eddie.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Steve bent over the prone figure, listening closely for any signs of breathing while pressing his fingers to Eddie’s neck to check for a pulse. He found neither at first but didn’t let that deter him. Eddie’s skin was still warm and Steve's hands were shaking, his own heartbeat pounding so loudly in his head that it could feasibly be drowning out signs of life.

He gently nudged a still silently weeping Dustin aside and began CPR. 

“What can I do?” Robin asked from his left. She and Nancy must have finally caught up, he hadn’t even heard their approach. 

Steve kept an even rhythm, concentrating all his effort on his compressions as he replied. “Find something to wrap his side, I think that’s where most of the blood is coming from. Then take Dustin back through the gate and call an ambulance. I want them waiting on the other side before I try to move him.”

Robin quickly jumped into action, slipping her jacket off to remove her button down, and with Dustin’s help began working it around Eddie’s middle.

“Steve," Nancy whispered his name, carefully, gently. She was kneeling down on Eddie’s other side, her ear practically pressed to his mouth. "He’s not breathing and he’s lost a lot of blood. I’m sorry, but did he even have a pulse when you got here?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said immediately.

“Steve–”

“Just go! Please, Nance.”

Steve wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Robin finally came back, and if Dustin had put up a fuss at being made to leave, he hadn’t heard any of it. His entire focus narrowed down to his hands on Eddie’s chest, pumping, his eyes locked on Eddie’s face as he counted to thirty, the taste of blood on his lips as he administered rescue breaths. 

Lather, rinse, repeat… 

“The ambulance is five minutes out, how do you want to do this?”

He could have kissed her in that moment—in the most sisterly way of course. 

She didn’t waste any time questioning if they should be doing this, or if Eddie’s condition had improved. Accepting that Steve had made up his mind and she was going to do everything in her power to help him make it happen. 

The thing was, Steve had felt a faint tap against his fingers the last time he’d checked, and he was 99% sure Eddie did have a pulse now, even if he hadn’t before, and it could have been his imagination but he could have sworn he heard the other boy take a few shallow breaths on his own too.

Together, he and Robin hauled over a piece of discarded corrugated metal, moving Eddie onto it as gently as possible, using it like a stretcher to carry him back to the trailer. 

Getting him through the gate was a bit trickier. Even more-so with the rope being cut, but Robin and Nancy had shoved a bunch of furniture under the hole in the ceiling, and Steve somehow managed to climb up the precarious tower one-handed while balancing their unconscious friend on his back.

When they made it to the other side, Steve carried Eddie in his arms all the way to the ambulance doors, insisting on riding along with them to the hospital. He must have been a sight, sweaty and out of breath, covered head to toe in muck and the other boy’s blood. The EMTs didn't even argue, except to insist Dustin come along too once they noticed his limp. 

Robin and Nancy followed behind in the RV, promising to pick up the others on their way so everyone could regroup at the hospital.

Things changed drastically once they arrived at Hawkins General, and the staff realized just who their patient was. Thankfully the paramedic in the ambulance had managed to stabilize Eddie before he was recognized. Steve shuddered to think about what might have happened otherwise.

Though unconscious and in critical condition, Eddie was treated like the dangerous criminal the whole town thought he was—handcuffed to his hospital bed, and an officer posted up at his door. 

No visitors allowed. 

Once Dustin was released, ankle wrapped and with orders to take it easy for a few weeks, their group was asked in no uncertain terms to leave. Told that no updates would be given on the suspect's condition.

Suspect. 

Steve wanted to throw up, but at least Eddie was alive. 

Chapter 2

Thanks and love to @penny00dreadful and @pearynice for all your help and encouragement with this.

Permanent taglist(open): @penny00dreadful @pearynice @hitlikehammers @bookworm0690 @wonderland-girl143-blog 

@goodolefashionedloverboi @themagicalari @awkwardgravity1 @rocknrollsalad

P.S. Taglist friends, I know this one might not be for everyone, if you'd prefer I not tag you in this fic pls let me know, I totally understand 💜

[plugnuts]

Okay, I know next to nothing about FNF (except that the little blue-haired dude is bisexual and used to be in a relationship with the little orange-haired dude, but is now in a relationship with the brunette girl) (and that's all very cute). So what exactly is the story with this Yourself character? Also, is he the same as Silly Billy?

OKAY so there's a lot to unpack with this question here-- first I'll give a little background on FNF itself:

The blue haired dude is named Boyfriend, and the brunette girl is called Girlfriend, the ginger guy is called Pico (but he's not important to this question). GF and BF are obviously together, hence their names (even though in their view it's merely coincidence).

Now, as you know, BF is in a relationship with GF, right? In their own universe, yes, but Yourself (AKA Silly Billy as he's so commonly nicknamed (due to the name of the song he appears in)) is an alternate universe version of BF. Yourself is from a universe where his GF (AKA Herself) died in a tragic accident of some kind (of which we don't know) and is left in tatters, quite literally. He is shown to be a tall, lanky version of BF who appears to have lost himself when Herself died, no longer taking care of himself.

BF is normally shown as short, and this is to show off his innocence, to make him appear cute and nice. Yourself has lost that innocence, appearing at his full height, his true height. He shows that he can still be seen as innocent in the middle of the song he sings with BF as he shortens down, but that doesn't last too long as he soon grows back to his full height with a nasty laugh.

In the song Yourself sings with BF there's a cutscene near the end of the song that includes a lyrical portion, and as Yourself sings you can see Herself for a split second as he sings the line "So stay awake just long enough to see my way". He's singing with her as she appears, and you can even hear her voice in the song- and this is because her spirit resides in Yourself's mic, you can even see it glow in the beggining cutscene of the song. These lyrics are also a nod to the original mod's creator that had first created Yourself, Divide, who sadly died in his sleep due to cancer.

Yourself sings to BF with such passion, such pain, it's almost like he's warning BF to cherish GF and not lose her like he did Herself. Here's all the lyrics in the song:

I'll make you say How proud you are Of me So stay awake Just long enough Too see My way

My way

Yes, these are a nod to Divide, but I also like to view them as a nod to Herself as well. Like Yourself wishes for her to be proud of him even if she's no longer with him, to stay awake just long enough to see how far he's come, and how far he's fallen.

Also, in the frame where you can see Herself behind Yourself you can also see that Yourself has tattered angel wings, possibly to infer that he's practically dead, or some type of fallen angel - possibly as a metaphor for how broken he is without GF.

Now, a good chunk of this is simply speculation as there isn't too much info on Yourself or his story. Though, I do hope we get more on him someday.

I hope this clears some things up!

[adoroborosgoth]

One of the reasons I think Persuasion fits Crowley and Aziraphale.

So read Captain Wentworth's letter first.

"I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in F. W.

I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never."

Now for my ramblings below the cut.

Now that I'm not incoherently screaming internally. The quote I highlighted above in red. Which is. "You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others."

Now I could be wrong and I often am but isnt that almost in not so many words exactly what Crowley said to Aziraphale in s2e1 when they are sitting in the coffee shop.

Crowley: Right, what’s the problem?

Aziraphale: Problem? Who said there was a problem?

Crowley: Tone of voice. You have three reasons for calling me. You’re bored. You need to tell someone about something clever you did before you pop. Or something’s wrong. This was your ‘something’s wrong’ voice.

I know there are other parallels here to be made, but I can't help being obsessed with this line. I mean just the fact alone that Wenworth and Crowley have hope even after all that has happened. That's optimism baby!

There really is so much to unpack here and I am probably reading way to much into this, but hey isnt this what fandom is for.

Lol on a side note I love the "Too good, too excellent creature!" line in the letter just after the highlighted part. I just keep picturing Crowley saying something similar to or about Aziraphale but make it modern. Probably in a snarky, bitchy way, but it wouldn't be Crowley otherwise.

There are so many other parallels to Persuasion and Good Omens that others have touched on much better. Other highlights of note in orange.

I just bought a copy of Persuasion two days ago so I can pour over every little detail. (No more borrowing my sister's books.) So I expect I'll be making other posts later.

[chumpovodir]

ooooh, juicy million dollar question from a friend who's not familiar with castlevania, but knows enough about hector and alucard from my ramblings:

(with more ramblings ahead)

okay but if they were both opposed to dracula at pretty much the same time, wouldn't it have been easier for them to team up against him?

very inchresting scenario to imagine, although i think it goes without saying even with them teamed up, they wouldn't have been able to take drac down. possible idea for an AU where they tried, failed, escaped, and now have to come up with a Plan B? there's a castlevania buddy cop movie for the ages lmao.

of course there is also so much to unpack and theorize about why they didn't as well - i can't imagine alucard would've been too thrilled with one of the two guys who were helping trample all over his mother's wishes, and probably wanted nothing to do with him at that point

then there's just the issue of timing i think - it's pretty close, but hector's morality crisis is strongly implied to have been instigated once things passed a metaphorical threshold. so even if they ended up on the same side eventually, alucard probably already left long before hector ever made the decision to defect.

but eh, the exact timing is kind of murky on that one (both prequel mangas suggest alucard is already gone by then, but don't really give us a clear timeline on how much time has passed since lisa's death / hector realizing his heart's not in it anymore)

in my head i like to think alucard tried really, really hard at first to put a stop to his father's plans that didn't amount to facing and killing him (he just lost his mother, i don't think he would've had the heart to decide on straight away killing his only living parent, and that seems to hold water judging by how broken up he is at the end of CV3) and so it makes sense to me that he might've instead gone and tried to talk some sense into the only person who 1) has a direct say in the war and 2) is known to be favored, and held in high esteem by drac - someone he might actually listen to

i would kill to see that conversation happen. now, i know what you're thinking - "chump, isn't a scenario where alucard tries to talk hector out of going forward with the war a little bit too similar to n!carmilla tricking n!hector into a betrayal?"

and you'd be right, but see i'm not actually opposed to the idea of someone else giving voice to hector's doubts on principle. my issue with netflixvania is that betrayal ended up not even meaning anything since everything went sideways once the trio started meddling BUT ANYWAY

yeah in that scenario i could see alucard floating the idea of teaming up to stop drac together if it comes to that, and hector's reluctance as he grapples with his morality eventually forcing alucard to leave without him, to keep things canon-compliant. then hector realizes he's truly alone after missing his one opportunity, hardens his resolve to not be used as a pawn any longer and makes his own escape

[wen-kexing-apologist]

10 Characters and 10 Fandoms

I was hoping this day would not come. I had hoped I would fly free and clear from having to choose between all the people trapped in my television. But alas...I can avoid it no longer...thanks @lurkingshan

Cause here is the thing, when I think of what drives me batshit, crawling up the wall, tearing at the curtains it is not the characters but the dynamics that I love and cherish.

Rules: name 10 of your favourite characters from 10 different fandoms, then tag 10 people to do the same.

So I guess, without further ado, and in no particular order, here are 10 of my faves and why

Wen Kexing - Word of Honor

I mean...this one seems pretty obvious (coughs in username) but this is my dumb slut, okay? He's beauty, he's grace, he's got Zhou Zishu Derangement Syndrome harder than anyone.

Wen Kexing, how do I love you? Let me count the ways:

Unhinged

Fashion Icon

Crazy Bastard Man

Yi Baiyi's Number One Nuisance

Gay As Hell

And most importantly HE HAS NEVER DONE ANYTHING WRONG IN HIS LIFE.

Not Once. Not Ever.

Akk - The Eclipse

Oh Akk, my favorite little war criminal. If I had to pick one single favorite character, it's my boy.

Can't put my finger on why but for some reason I am obsessed with this emotionally repressed gay boy who has difficulty accepting himself and feels pressured to perform actions far outside what a teenager should be allowed to do because adults put pressure on him and because he doesn't want people to be disappointed in him...

Unlike Wen Kexing, Akk has done many things wrong, but he's my sweet cheese, good time boy, and he deserves to be harassed by his rat bastard boyfriend at all times. He's learned, he's grown, he's free of Suppalo and I want nothing but the best for him forever and alwas.

Jim Jimenez - Our Flag Means Death

Ohhhhh Jim. The Swagger, The Sex Appeal, The Being The Only Competent Member of Stede's Crew. I mean, what is not to love about The Orphan Raised By Nun Grandmother To Be a Killer?

As a fellow Studier Of The Blade, I would welcome the chance to let Jim kill me. Besides the fact they would lay waste to many, as an enby, they automatically earn a spot in my favs list.

Guillermo de la Cruz - What We Do In The Shadows

Tumblr Users, name a sexier character that Guillermo de la Cruz. That's right! YOU CAN'T!

Gay, serial killer...mmm you know what I'm beginning to sense a trend in my favs list...

eh, we can unpack that later!

My lovely, bumbling, dumbass with posession of the only brain cell in the household. So bright and smiley in the beginning you almost forget that he is 10 years in to literally hunting people to feed to his best friends/mortal enemies/family/tormenters/employers/bumbling idiots that stole him away from Panera Bread. There is no greater personification of the Duality of Man than the man who can lay waste to an entire theatre full of vampires and also spending literal hours closing every possible loophole in Nandor's Dick Length Wish. No greater personification of the Duality of Man than the man who can best Nandor in a gay little fight, and then immediately get pushed into a coffin and shipped to England.

Keyleth - Critical Role

My beloved, all powerful awkward disaster of a Druid. Keyleth helped me through some difficult fucking parts of my life, and I really appreciate how heavily Marisha allowed Keyleth to embrace and exert her anger where it needed to be released. I love how Keyleth can both bring a building down with her bare hands (literally) and turn into a goldfish and splatter along the rocks (also literally)

I love when character who are hurt or in pain or grieving continue to be kind, and I love when that composure starts to slip.

Ellie Williams - The Last of Us

I love my baby dyke with all my heart. She's a killer, she's a track star, she makes grown men weep and young kids laugh. She's immune from being mushroomified, and she horrifies Joel's Southern Table Manner Sensibilities. What more can you ask for out of a character?

Tankhun Theerapanyakul- KinnPorsche

Serves cunt.

Kaz Brekkar - Six of Crows

Kaz Brekkar is the walking contradiction, and that is why I love him.

Kaz, External Monologue: murder. murder. crime. crime. heist. heist. fuck pekka.

Kaz, Internal Monologue: Inej. Inej. Inej. Inej. Inej. Inej. Inej.

There is just something so juicy about a character who yearns desperately to touch, to hold, to love and is physically incapable of doing so. Also like, shout out to having disabled characters in media of all forms

Raine Whispers - Owl House

Again, enby, therefore automatically on the fucking list. But also like. COME ON. Look at them. They are so precious, they are so awkward, and they are so badass. This motherfucker can't talk on a stage to save their life, but can lead a goddamn rebel organization?

ALSO LIKE, LET'S DISCUSS THE FUCKING WHISTLE AND THE MONTHS OF FAKING MIND CONTROL?!?!?!??!?! Y'all seriously want to sit here and not claim them as a fav? Okay, but couldn't be me :)

Zuko - Avatar: The Last Airbender

It's Zuko. Need I say more? I will never not love Zuko because I lived through his redemption arc live on my TV. I went from hating this motherfucker's guts to truly deeply loving him in real time and that's all I have to say on that. He's a runner, he's a track star, he's a war criminal, and a baby girl, and truly is the king of kings for doing one nice thing and nearly dying from fever about it.

Well, this has made me realize that most of my favs are gay murderers. Teehee. Please never make me choose my favorite characters again.

If someone tags me in one of these, ask me to do my Top 10 Character Dynamics, please I beg you!!!!1

Tagging:

@bengiyo , @shortpplfedup , @kyr-kun-chan , @moonspiritmars

[oliversaluki]

A New Adventure {Pollie}

Pacifica & Ollie say Goodbye.

May 4th

@northwestxprincess

OLLIE

Ollie was not hungover (he was) but that wasn’t why he didn’t want to get out of bed this morning. He was a married man, curled up with his wife while the sun lazed through the windows.

It had seemed like such a good idea to book the flights after the wedding, all the goodbyes happened in one place, it was an epic celebration but now they needed to grab the last bags that hadn’t been shipped already, the final touches.

And with the alarm already going off, that meant he couldn’t keep lazing about, and yet he just curled more into Pacifica. “Morning, Wife.”

PACIFICA

Pacifica was genuinely not hungover, but her whole body was one delightful ache. Last night she had danced more than she had in years, possibly ever, she’d talked to everyone who had come to the wedding, and then she had fallen into Ollie’s bed to spend their first night as a married couple together. 

Now it was their first morning, and she could already feel a mixture of amusement and fond annoyance building. She had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time. 

“Ollie, I love you, but you have to turn that alarm off.” 

OLLIE

“But if I do that, that means we need to get up and do all the things.” Ollie complained slightly tilting his head to look up at Pacifica with a grin though his eyes were still closed as if he could fall back asleep even with the alarm going off.

“Don’t you want to stay in bed, just a little longer.”

PACIFICA

“But if we get up and do things now, that means we’ll be able to spend all day tomorrow in bed in our new home.” The words ‘our home’ hadn’t lost the power to thrill her, and right now it was hard to believe that they ever would. 

She leaned up on one arm and brushed his lips with hers. “Besides, if you don’t shut it off, I’m crawling over you to shut it off myself.” 

OLLIE

“You know threatening to crawl over me isn’t much of a threat?” Ollie teased though he flopped onto his back to reach out and grab his phone to turn off the alarm. A huge yawn coming from him nonetheless.

“But all day tomorrow in our new home does kind of work.” They should be able to settle in right away and they could sleep in, have some more fun as a newly married couple. Wink wink, nudge nudge.

PACIFICA

Pacifica smiled at him even as she felt her cheeks warm slightly. As tempting as it was, they certainly didn’t have time for that. Probably. Even if he was looking particularly adorable with his sleep rumpled curls and his skin warm under her fingertips. 

“Kitchen is supposed to be stocked with basics for us so we’ll have food in the house once we get there. And I think even I can wait on unpacking for a day.” She would feel compelled to start unpacking the day after, checking on all her clothes and settling in so that all of their belongings had a place. It was what would make the place feel like theirs too. But she could take a moment to bask. 

OLLIE

Ollie let out another groan. A small Acknowledgement that she was right. It wasn't like this place had much food stocked.

Empty closets, empty walls. Even Tilly wasn't here. Ollie had gotten her situated and boarded in Italy ahead of time to make sure the transition wasn't too jarring for her. That they wouldn't deal with any unforeseen complications now.

Pushing himself into a seated position he took her hand gently and kissed it. “Well then my wife. Would you like to get up and finish the last things.”

PACIFICA

As he kissed her hand, she could see the ring on her finger sparkle in the early morning light coming through the window. She knew if she looked, she would be able to see the simple gold band on his. It was enough to make her wish she could just laze in bed here to bask in it. 

Instead, she smiled up at him. “I scheduled breakfast to be delivered in half an hour, along with coffee. And since I did that, that means I’m stealing first shower while you finish whatever it is you need to finish.” 

She sat up and brushed his lips with hers before sliding out of the bed. 

OLLIE

Ollie Laughed as Pacifica pulled away to take her shower and get ready for the day. Watching her go he lazed about for a few more moments before getting up himself. 

This was it.

Their last moments here. There wasn't much else to do. Everything packed up and gone or to be donated if they were taking it.

But this place still had memories and ghosts that hung at every corner. Eric and Henry.

He was the last one left and with him would go those memories too. Neither of them would come back here.

Shaking his head he pulled their suitcases to the front door and headed back to the washroom to switch with Pacifica to get ready himself.

PACIFICA

Feeling the countdown clock in her head to when they would need to leave for the airport, she didn’t follow her next impulse and suggest he join her in the shower. As tempting as it was, it would take far too much time. She would much rather be waiting at the airport for the flight than running any risk of cutting it close. 

There wasn’t anything left for her here but the people, and she’d already said her goodbyes to the ones who mattered. They would see them again, of course, but as the new people they were becoming. She was ready to let go of who they’d been. 

She had chosen her outfit for today carefully, combining style and comfort so that she would be confident as they set foot in Italy. 

But as Ollie started to head past her to take his turn, she paused and brushed his cheek with a kiss. There was something sad in his eyes. She didn’t want to pressure him, he’d talk when he was ready, but she wanted to remind him she was here. 

Then she let him go and started her own final checks, double and triple checking their flight tickets, their passports, tucking away the last few belongings. Checking it all again. Right as she finished the last check, she heard the knock that signaled breakfast had arrived and was able to get everything set up on the table by the time Ollie came back out. 

OLLIE

It felt better to be clean and dressed for the day, it felt like he could move forward, he had to move forward. If he stayed he would never be able to move forward, to continue to stand on his own.

He did it when he moved out and this was just his next chapter.

Especially when he spotted Paz and a breakfast all laid out. She was right this was a fresh start they both needed.

“That smells so good.” Ollie mused walking over and snaking his arms around her before stealing a quick bite.

PACIFICA

“The food smells pretty good too,” she teased, leaning back against him for that moment as she took the all important first sip of coffee. 

Glancing over at their suitcases, she felt the flutters of nerves, anxiety, and excitement swirling together so that she wasn’t particularly hungry, even knowing that she should eat. She let out a small sigh.

“It feels strange to be leaving. Even though I know we’ll come back, it’ll be different when we do. I don’t regret it, but it’s strange.”

OLLIE

Ollie nodded the place was empty and that dread built again, like he was leaving a piece of him here. Mainly the piece of Eric more than anything.

“I’m going to miss this place. I never realized it. The second place I’ve lived on my own. Or with Eric and Henry. It had some really good memories.” At least his family would all be in the same homes most likely that wouldn’t change. Just the kids growing up.

PACIFICA

Pacifica rubbed at his arm, wishing she had something wise and profound she could say to that. She couldn’t help the pinch of guilt at his words, especially since they were leaving for her. 

But she tried to remind herself that they would have left eventually. This was a nice place, but it wasn’t big enough to build a future in. Or to have guests to stay when people did come to visit as she hoped they would eventually. All this meant was that they were leaving a little earlier than they might have otherwise. 

“The memories will still be with you. But I think it’s okay to be sad this is ending.” 

OLLIE

“A little sad, a bunch happy and more excited.” The more he stayed the more antsy he was ready to leave too. To not fall into this feelings too much. He didn’t want to be sad, he didn’t want to start this adventure mourning the old one.

“I’ll be okay. I have you and I’m making more memories.” He will be more than happy with that.

PACIFICA

She turned towards him to pull him into a hug, resting her head on his shoulder. “If it helps, I cried on Thursday. I didn’t expect I would. But suddenly the room was empty, and Rose is talking to a new potential roommate who will be there instead and I just…it’s harder than I thought to leave.” 

Looking up at him, she smiled. “But you’re right. There’s a lot of happy and excited in there too. There will be new memories. I want those.” 

OLLIE

Honestly that made Ollie feel better, not that she was hurting but that he wasn’t the only one that was missing things and people from this place. “We will just have to make sure they visit. I’m sure no one would fight a trip out to Italy.” Ollie teased holding her tightly.

“I love you. I love that we’re on our way to a new adventure.” A deep breath looking around the apartment. He was ready, he really was.

“Last bites and we should go?”

PACIFICA

“Exactly. Besides, now that we’ve finished our wedding, I can start to become a true terror in helping Ren and Martin plan theirs,” she grinned. It was only a partial joke as she said it. But it was another of those reminders of their many ties here. They would be back. 

Stepping back, she finished of the last of her coffee and set it neatly back in the back so they could throw out the bag on their way out the door.

“I’m ready.” 

OLLIE

Ollie laughed at that nodding, Pacifica had planned theirs in such a short time period he knew she would be right there helping Ren and Martin with theirs as much as possible. They people here were never going to get rid of them.

Pulling away Ollie grabbed the keys to lock up pulling their suitcases and bags out into the hall. This apartment, this town had been good to him and he would miss it.

Shutting and locking the door to an empty apartment he turned to face his wife and his new future.

To their new future.

[sweetfirebird]

Wishing For--the modern ASB au

Wishing For

I know some of you haven’t met them yet, but since this is a contemporary and magicless AU of A Suitable Bodyguard, know that they look and act a little different here than they do in the original.

AND NOW YOU WILL UNDERSTAND WHAT I MEAN when I say, it turns out that once you remove the fantasy elements and the ‘save the world/our home’ plot stuff, what you are left with is troubled nerds who really need a cuddle (and some therapy). I was going for epic romance in the contemporary world, but then I took the epic out. Tahlen is trying his best to be a knight in shining armor though.

Content tags: anxiety, sheltered and virginal character, abandonment issues, toxic relatives, absent relatives, references to: drinking, recreational drug use, overly pushy drug users, overly pushy possible sexual advances, past parental death, therapy.  Also, unfortunately, rich people. But Zelli only works as a rich person, bless his heart.

Tahlen and Zelli belong to me. (Mine! All mine! muahahaha!)

12:45 AM

So sorry to disturb your evening, Tahlen, but do you know how to use Uber? Or Lyft? Perhaps it’s the service here but I can’t seem to finish downloading an app.

12:46 AM

Sorry to bother you.

12:46 AM

Sorry to bother you *again* I meant to say

12:47 AM

It’s all right if you don’t answer this. You are under no obligation to.

12:50 AM

What’s going on

12:50 AM

Where are you

12:50 AM

It’s 1 am and you’re out

12:51 AM

It’s your cousins isn’t it

12:52 AM

They insisted I should go out. It’s fine. I probably should. Really, you should go back to sleep.

12:52 AM

Or whatever you were doing. It’s fine. I’ll be fine. Sorry.

12:53 AM

Where are you

12:53 AM

Your location or I’ll use your phone tracker to get it

12:54 AM

Since when can you do that?

12:56 AM

Your grandmother allowed it the last time your cousins visited and dragged you out

Omw don’t move

12:55 AM

Tahlen?

12:56 AM

You really don’t have to

12:59 AM

Tahlen?

1:01 AM

Sorry. You’re probably driving. Sorry.

Not wanting to drain the battery on his phone anymore, Zelli had it in his lap and had let the screen go dark. He had no idea how much time had passed, or how quickly Tahlen had gotten into his truck after Zelli had disturbed him. Tahlen was probably still driving. The house Zelli was in was on the outskirts of the town proper, but Tahlen would have to drive across the valley to get there. Traffic was lighter at night, but Tahlen was hardly going to be racing over here and risking a ticket.

Zelli should have figured it out himself instead of bothering Tahlen. At worst, Zelli might have spent a few boring, slightly uncomfortable hours before his cousins remembered him. Or he could have walked back toward town until he had more phone service and then downloaded one of those apps.

His friends online were going to tease him relentlessly about this if he told them, especially if he mentioned his rescue. Which meant he’d better not.

He worried his bottom lip between his teeth and then turned his head, trying to distract himself with the bland, pastel picture of a vase of flowers on the wall, and then the equally pastel curtains, opened to reveal the yard full of revelers.

The house was probably a rental for short or longer-term visitors to wine country, close enough to town for convenience and amenities, far enough away for there not to be neighbors to complain about parties. The décor also suggested a hotel more than a private dwelling.

Zelli was in a guest room, either way. There was nothing personal in the room save for an unpacked suitcase sticking out of the open closet door. Hopefully, the person staying here was more interested in the ruckus downstairs than a good night’s sleep.

Or sex, Zelli’s mind unhelpfully reminded him. A lot of people would use a party like this as a way to have sex, or to try to have sex.

He gripped his phone tighter and bit his lip a little harder. Silly of him not to think of that first. That was one of the reasons his cousins had claimed they were taking him out with them, after all.

The music playing downstairs was loud enough to bump through the floor and the walls, but the different music someone was playing outside was audible as well, mostly snatches of lyrics from car speakers. Zelli did not know the songs. He hadn’t really expected to.

Pieces of conversation once in a while made their way up from the yard along with the music. He spent a while imagining his grandmother complaining again about how all the houses now being used as rentals led to neighborhoods of this instead of real communities.

He flipped his phone around nervously. The service was terrible here. He was surprised the texts had gone through, and considered texts versus the messaging app his cousin Whitman said he ought to get for ‘privacy.’ Zelli got what he meant, but he didn’t really need ‘privacy.’ They all knew Zelli had no social life, not like theirs.

He didn’t see the need for one like theirs. This house and this party didn’t feel real. They felt like Zelli was trapped in a movie about a high school or a wealthy college with a party scene meant to show the audience who the drunken asshole antagonists were. Although most of the people here were far older than high school or even college years. Zelli was that age, just old enough to go to clubs now, legally, and to buy alcohol—

He could almost hear Tahlen questioning whether or not that was the reason Zelli’s cousins had brought Zelli along—to pay for everything.

It isn’t like your cousins give much of a shit about you the rest of the time, Tahlen would say. Or rather, wouldn’t say, but his disdain for Zelli’s relatives would be painfully apparent, so much so that even Zelli’s cousin Bethany, constantly on her phone as well as several unprescribed medications, would notice. And then pout, because she wanted Tahlen to like her, among the many other things she wanted from Tahlen.

Tahlen’s smiles were not frequent, but got especially rare when the rest of Zelli’s family were around or even mentioned. But it was a lovely smile, and Zelli tried his best to make it happen, in whatever ways he didn’t think were too inappropriate.

Tahlen, understandably, took family seriously, and most of Zelli’s relatives didn’t. That was all. There was no changing them. Zelli avoided his extended family except for times like this week, when they descended on Grandmother’s house without being invited, and he was torn between being polite and hiding from them. Normally, he might have risked irritating Tahlen by staying with Tahlen while he worked, but Tahlen had been more or less out of sight for the past two weeks.

After his first drink earlier that evening, Zelli had even considered texting Tahlen to ask what had Tahlen so busy, as if that was any of Zelli’s business. Luckily, Zelli had not had much more after that, so he hadn’t done it. Just the “pregame” at the house, then a drink at the club they had first gone to. He’d gotten a sip of something else at the bar they’d gone to after that, but then his cousins had pulled him into a car to come here, and he hadn’t had anything else.

He'd like some water, actually. Or some tea. If he could figure out where he was exactly, he might be able to ask Tahlen to stop at a drive-thru or convenience store for something on the way home. He could also venture down to this house’s kitchen, where they ought to have at least water. Then he could wait outside for Tahlen.

Zelli supposed that he ought to be grateful to his grandmother for worrying about him, even if she had put that worry onto Tahlen, who should not have had to ruin his night to track Zelli down. It would be easier for him if he arrived to find Zelli in the driveway, or even out in the street. But Zelli would rather not spend any more time around the people here than he had to. He’d leave his sanctuary when he was sure Tahlen was near. 

The awkwardness Zelli had felt in the club was somehow worse in this house. Zelli was more out of place here in his borrowed t-shirt—which was supposed to be tight for the club, according to Whitman, which Zelli’s regular shirts were definitely not, but even Whitman’s smallest shirt was loose on Zelli and only made Zelli seem shorter and skinnier and weaker than he already was. The darkest jeans Zelli had, which were still not very tight, combined with dress shoes he didn’t like, and a suit jacket that was now missing, felt ill-fitting and unnatural. He regretted the loss of the jacket but was happy to at least still have his wallet and phone.

He looked at his phone again, decided to venture another text.

1:25 AM

If you changed your mind, please let me know. It’s no trouble.

He waited, watching minutes tick by, but there was no answer. Maybe Tahlen had gone back to bed… whose bed Zelli didn’t know, but it was—had been—Saturday night, and Tahlen was very attractive, and it wasn’t unlikely that he’d been out or with someone.

Tahlen was very fond of Grandmother and reasonably tolerant of Zelli. But really, Grandmother shouldn’t have asked him to do this. Tahlen already felt he owed her too much.

Since the Vallithi estate was only a few miles down the road in their corner of the valley, Tahlen’s family and Grandmother had long been friends. But Tahlen’s parents, unlike the previous generation of Vallithis, had not been naturally gifted at handling the business side of their grape-growing operation. That, combined with the creeping corporate takeover of much of the valley, meant their business had been hurting even before Tahlen’s parents had died in a boating accident while on vacation elsewhere. Their deaths had left the property and the business in the hands of their two children, Tahlen and Esrin, who had been just teenagers at the time. Zelli, about twelve then, had sat with them at the memorial service. Esrin had scowled at the world but made sure Zelli ate from the provided food. Tahlen had looked blank and tired and hadn’t said a word.

They still had some property—the house, essentially—but the land around it was owned or leased for corporate grape growing. Tahlen had barely graduated high school and then started to work, first for anyone, then for Grandmother after Grandmother had had enough of whatever stubborn nonsense Tahlen had been up to. Tahlen was guaranteed good pay, decent hours, and a place to stay in Grandmother’s estate—Zelli suspected so Tahlen didn’t have to go to an empty house at night. The money from the leases went to help Esrin get through cooking school and then to help her expenses and debt while she worked in a fancy restaurant in town.

The restaurant industry should pay their workers better, in Zelli’s opinion.

Tahlen was now taking classes again, at Grandmother’s insistence, but honestly, Tahlen seemed more than content just working for her. He went out to inspect things at her side, and talked to people about the land and harvests and things Zelli didn’t touch, as that wasn’t the area of interest Zelli shared with his grandmother.

Grandmother did not actually need the income from the wine. The label was something of a hobby for her, but it was nonetheless highly sought after, and she loved the whole business. Which was probably why Tahlen was a dream come true for her. She adored and respected him, and since she detested most of the rest of the family and knew Zelli didn’t care about wine, Zelli suspected she was training Tahlen to take over for her when she could no longer do it.

That might also have been another reason Bethany chased after Tahlen when she was around, Zelli realized thoughtfully. His cousins could be perceptive and clever when it suited them to be.

Zelli’s strengths were really more in line with the rest of the family’s interests. Well, his interests and grandmother’s. He did not give much thought to the rest of the family, as he was sure they didn’t give any thought to him. His father certainly didn’t. They all generally only spoke to Grandmother when it involved some aspect of the family trust. Everything else, everything pertaining to Grandmother’s private money and investments, which were considerable, Zelli kept an eye on, as well their household expenses and some of the financials of the winery.

He didn’t really do much, but he at least did more than the cousins and aunts and uncles living off the trust who did nothing, then showed up once in a while to try to get on Grandmother’s good side.

She had no control over the family trust, but her business was hers, and it had done very well. She didn’t say so directly but had once or twice implied they were all just trying to get a mention in her will.

And to hit up Zelli for money, since Zelli didn’t have nearly the same expenditures as the rest of them and only tried to earn enough from everything else he did to pay for his gaming equipment and things like that.

Somewhere, Tahlen was scowling, Zelli just knew it. He sighed.

Zelli’s cousins, the only members of his family remotely close to Zelli in age, did not understand LEGO sets or supporting creators and streamers. They’d had a low opinion of the Spirited Away shirt Zelli had been wearing when they’d found him… and also of Zelli’s hair. He’d recently gotten an ill-advised haircut to try to deal with his uncontrollable, multitextured hair, wherein he had learned that without the weight to hold his hair down, his hair got even wilder.

Maybe Zelli was spoiled, as they’d suggested. He didn’t have to do anything for himself, that was true. Grandmother had a housekeeper and a cook. There was cleaning and gardening staff. And he had Grandmother to coddle him and keep him from the real world. Now, here he was. He couldn’t figure out how to Uber, and even if he looked up a cab company, he didn’t have an address to give them.

He checked his phone, nearly dropping it when he saw a message waiting for him.

1:30 AM

Tell me you are not here

A picture of the front of the house was attached: a yard now destroyed by someone’s crookedly parked car, some people standing around, smoking, and a couple on the hood of the car who were…

“Oh.” Zelli hoped that wasn’t one of his cousins.

1:34 AM

I’ll come out

1:34 AM

Just tell me where you are

He could practically see Tahlen’s stiff disapproval as he probably despaired over Zelli’s lack of sense and social skills and answered quickly so as not to inconvenience Tahlen more.  

1:35 AM

Second floor, one of the back bedrooms.

He put his phone in his pocket and got up to peer out the window, hoping to see Tahlen’s tall form stalking toward the house. He didn’t, which meant Tahlen had been in the house when he’d sent the last text. Zelli spun around to face the door only a second before the sound of a gentle knock.

“Zelli?” Tahlen called softly through the door.

Zelli flew across the room to undo the lock and let Tahlen in.

“You had to lock the door?” Tahlen demanded in a low, unhappy voice, turning to glare down the hallway before coming in and shutting the door behind him. He studied Zelli intently for several seconds while Zelli tried not to fidget, then asked, even quieter than before, “Who scared you?”

Tahlen was not looming over Zelli, but he did loom. Nearly everyone could loom over Zelli, who tried not to take it personally. Friends online assured him he was a “short king” but Zelli didn’t feel very kingly. Tahlen was about six feet, tall, but not exceptionally so. He did, however, carry himself with the physical confidence of someone who had been an athlete in high school and had spent most of his life learning various martial arts “to relax.”

Zelli did not know how kendo or kenpō could be relaxing, but Tahlen felt the same way about some of Zelli’s games.

Tahlen also rode his horse often, stabled at Grandmother’s estate in an arrangement that Tahlen felt he ought to pay for while Grandmother ignored his protests because Tahlen often rode with Zelli when Zelli did, and she claimed Tahlen was Zelli’s security. As if they were in the 1920s and someone was going to kidnap Zelli for ransom.

Zelli had spent several months trying to convince Tahlen that no matter what his grandmother thought, Tahlen wasn’t obligated to spend time with him, with Tahlen glowering and going more silent until Zelli had finally given up.

Despite the time of night and the seasonal chill, Tahlen was in a t-shirt, leaving the tattoos on his forearms visible. Each arm had a mural for one of his parents and their interests: chess and horses on his left, flowers and wine and grapes on the right. He also had a constellation on the side of his neck. Zelli didn’t know the reason for that one, but it had sent him into a brief astronomy and then astrology phase in his teen years, at the height of his Tahlen crush. Tahlen probably had more ink. Zelli didn’t know where, though, if he did.  

“Zelli?” Tahlen promptly unhappily, drawing Zelli’s eyes up from Tahlen’s bare skin.

Tahlen sometimes wore his hair longer, but it was short at the moment, a lovely, rich brown, like sable, or how Zelli imagined sable would look in person. Tahlen’s eyes were nearly the same color. Dressed like he was, in jeans that were worn and tight in the right places, unlike Zelli’s, he’d probably gotten stares as he’d come in. Possibly some for not dressing like the others here, but also for being so, well, remarkable. Handsome. Pretty.

Zelli’s poufy short hair was an indistinct brown, though he had tried dyeing it often as a teenager. He was surprised he hadn’t gotten beat up at the high school for the rainbow attempt actually, but then, Grandmother had sent Tahlen to pick him up every day by then. Tahlen’s glares were effective.

Zelli peered up at Tahlen, aware that he was sober all these hours after his first drinks, and that he had no excuse for staring except, “You came?” he asked in confusion. “For me? Really?”

Even in the dim bedroom, with only the light from outside to illuminate him, Tahlen’s surprise at the question was evident.

Zelli blinked eyes of undramatic hazel green. Eyes set in a freckled face that would darken in the sun, if Zelli would ever spend more time outside. He was ordinary, tiny, boring, nerdy Zelli, who did nothing and had achieved nothing, and who had once been so over-the-top about his teen feelings for Tahlen that it was a wonder Tahlen still talked to him.

“Are you drunk?” Tahlen leaned down to inspect Zelli from a better angle. His face was suddenly close, startling Zelli, who parted his lips but at least held in his gasp. “High?” Tahlen went on, disgruntled and concerned. “Did someone slip you something?”

Zelli stepped back on shaky legs. “It’s fine,” he assured Tahlen in strained voice. He coughed and tried again, taking another step back to clear his head. “Sorry.” He ignored how Tahlen’s mouth tightened at the word. “I’m fine. I had a drink at the club, and one at the bar I barely started, and whatever is downstairs didn’t look appealing. I’d really love some tea, to be honest. Ah.” It was no wonder Tahlen thought Zelli was high. He was babbling. About tea. “It’s obvious I spend most of my time with my grandmother, isn’t it?” He tried to be light. “It’s ridiculous that they dragged me out.”

Tahlen crossed his arms. “Why did you let them?” Again, was implied.

Zelli met Tahlen’s frustrated gaze, then had to look away. He shrugged. “I… thought I should try again. To be a regular person.” He bit his lip, which was going to chap. “Maybe I ought to try the community college, just to get out more. I could… I could get to know people my own age. In person and not online. Maybe learn to draw or something. I do think, at least Whitman, is genuinely concerned for me, in his way.”

“Oh yeah?” Tahlen challenged, still keeping his voice soft. “When was the last time any of them contacted you to ask how you are?”  

Zelli had no answer for that, which Tahlen knew.

Tahlen let his voice rise, just a fraction. “Do they even know where you are right now?” An Or care? was implied as well.

Zelli didn’t know if he was reassuring himself or Tahlen. “I’m sure they’ll look for me whenever it’s time to leave. They did last time.”  

“And they didn’t find you last time, as I recall.” Tahlen was fed up with the whole family and Zelli couldn’t blame him.

The last time had involved a trip to the city with Grandmother, and once the cousins had realized Zelli was there, they’d badgered him to go out with them, then shown him how to set up a tab at a bar with his credit card. They’d all disappeared at some point after that. Zelli had finally walked several city blocks back to the house and sat on the porch of his aunt and uncle’s house, waiting for Bethany or one of the others to come back to let him in.

He wasn’t aware Tahlen had known the details, but when Grandmother had given Tahlen the permissions to track Zelli’s iPhone, she must have told him. She’d only told Zelli to call Tahlen if he couldn’t reach her or didn’t want to bother her.

Zelli lifted his chin but couldn’t quite meet Tahlen’s eye. “Well, I think I enjoyed the night on the porch more than the bar anyway.” But a sigh followed his joke. “I’m just not meant for these sorts of things.”

“You’re more of a movie and a visit to a late-night café sort of person,” Tahlen agreed.

“I….” Zelli forgot what he’d been about to say. Tahlen regarded him seriously. Zelli regarded him in amazement. “Yes,” he finally answered, “if I must go out.”

“Or for a ride on Lemon Blossom,” Tahlen went on evenly, as if he didn’t think there was anything odd about Zelli’s few out-of-the-house activities.

“I’m boring, I know,” Zelli said anyway, more confused than he could ever remember being. “My interests are not sophisticated and I have no real passions.”

“It’s someone else streaming Minecraft, then. Or building those elaborate LEGO sets. Or playing around with numbers and figures in their head while watching TV.” Tahlen uncrossed his arms. “And someone else making whatever money it is you make as easily as you do. That seems sophisticated to me.”

Zelli scoffed quietly. “I couldn’t do nearly the amount of work you do, and you keep all that information in your head as well. Your interests are far more….” Tahlen’s expression said Zelli was deflecting. Zelli didn’t know when he’d learned to read Tahlen so well. Others, like Bethany, certainly couldn’t. But maybe if she really looked at Tahlen once in a while. He wondered if most people did. Or if they just saw Grandmother’s employee. Or an extremely attractive and hot person glaring at them. Though people seemed to like that, so maybe Tahlen didn’t mind that last one. “Sorry,” Zelli said abruptly. “I must have ruined your night.”

Tahlen was indeed glaring at the moment. “It’s not ruined.”

Zelli gestured loosely. “Interrupted, then.”

“Zelli.” Tahlen said his name on a sigh. “You’re always apologizing when you’ve no need to.”

“No need?” Zelli demanded in disbelief. “Grandmother insisting you do this for me? It’s too much. You shouldn’t have to….”

Tahlen was making a very strange face. Rather pained. Like when Zelli had spent several days nervously bouncing around the house while waiting for one of his online friends to visit. The friend had been coming to the area for something else and the two of them had planned to get lunch, but then something had come up so nothing had come of it anyway. Tahlen had probably thought Zelli was meeting up with a serial killer but had been doing his best to be supportive.

That was the face he was making right now. Which was to say, his face did not actually do much, a slight tightening of his lips, a glance away, but to Zelli his discomfort was clear as day.

“Maybe she didn’t insist?” Zelli amended his statement. “She just asked and you felt you shouldn’t say no?”

“I asked,” Tahlen corrected stiffly. “They left you on the porch.” Tahlen sounded as if he was speaking through gritted teeth. “In a strange city—a new-to-you city,” he added when Zelli started to object.

Zelli stared, his mouth definitely hanging open for a moment before he closed it. Something warm carried through him the way alcohol was supposed to, and like with alcohol, it made him say the first thing that came to mind. “It was really more of a stoop. I wouldn’t have made you drive all the way into the city to sit with me on a stoop.”

It wasn’t a joke, and Tahlen didn’t react as if it had been. “I could’ve stayed on the phone with you while you waited,” he explained patient and furious. “You shouldn’t have been alone.”

“Oh.” Zelli studied the tops of his dress shoes. He was warmed again, and yet felt like a dumbass in some way he couldn’t explain. As if he should have known that. It was insulting to Tahlen, really, that Zelli would assume he didn’t care, or that he felt obligated to. Tahlen took family seriously. Perhaps Zelli was more that than a friend or annoying sort-of housemate to him. “You’re very kind,” Zelli said to the shoes, in the voice of someone who spent all of his time around a senior citizen who had been raised with old-fashioned etiquette rules and had once attended an all-girls boarding school in Switzerland. “Thank you. I’ll think of that in the future… or not.” He peeked up at the sound of Tahlen’s annoyed little exhale. “I won’t let my cousins kidnap me again, but I will remember your concern.” That was better. “We should go, so you can at least have some of your night to yourself.”

“Why did you lock the door?”  

Of course, Tahlen wasn’t going to let that go.

“Nothing. No reason,” Zelli said immediately. He looked up again, fully aware Tahlen wouldn’t believe that. “They’re loud,” he admitted, to Tahlen’s shoulder this time, instead of to his shoes. “And bigger than me. And some of them kept offering me things. I suppose it’s meant to be friendly. But they are also not really inclined to listen to no’s and one had a grip on my jacket that I couldn’t… so I slipped out of it and came up here.” He grew quieter and quieter the longer he went on. “And locked the door while I tried to figure out how to leave. Really, though,” he cleared his throat, “nothing happened and there’s no need to do anything about it. We can just go home.”

“Sit down, Zelli,” Tahlen ordered, gentle.  

Zelli huffed. “Really, I…”

“You’re shaking,” Tahlen interrupted to inform him and then came forward.

Zelli stepped back, then bumped into the bed and sat. Tahlen was in front of him, too tall, and then kneeled down and put his hands on Zelli’s knees while he gazed at Zelli with concern and worry in his expression for anyone, even Bethany, to read.  

Zelli stared blankly at him, at his hands, his forearms, the stars at his throat and his dark, warm eyes, which were so close.

Several years ago, Zelli had become aware that his feelings for Tahlen had gone far beyond a crush, but there hadn’t been anything to do about it, so he’d done his best to not think about them. He always had things to do, or could find things to do. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered, because Zelli was Zelli and he was not the sort of person to have feelings like that reciprocated, and never by someone like Tahlen. Grandmother had spotted them anyway, Zelli’s feelings, and advised him to be respectful, and to stay kind to Tahlen. So that was what Zelli had done. He had tried to stay out of Tahlen’s way, and to apologize when he messed up, and to only devote some of his time to making Tahlen smile.

Now this. He was tired and anxious. He was going to ruin it.

He did his best to look away, but Tahlen’s gaze was steady and demanded Zelli return it. Zelli couldn’t be rude, so he looked back, and released a long sigh. Tahlen was even more beautiful up close.

“It’s probably just that I never leave the house,” Zelli offered nervously. He was shaking. He hadn’t realized. “Maybe I should also… buy clothes more appropriate for going out. I don’t dress up… spend the money how I should.” His voice had a tremor too. “I’ve seen TikToks; I know how I could dress. Though it’s not going to make me anything but a permanent… a permanent twink as far as the world is concerned.”

He'd never said that word aloud to Tahlen before, but presumably, from Zelli’s rainbow hair and all of his teenage staring, Tahlen was well aware of Zelli’s queerness.

“Although not an especially pretty one,” Zelli added quickly, his face hot. “You’re going to tell me to breathe, aren’t you?” Tahlen’s eyes seemed to have lights in them. That should have been impossible. “I am breathing.” Zelli demonstrated that a few times. “Did Grandmother tell you about my go at therapy too?” He wasn’t resentful, merely curious. “I don’t really think I need it. My family, including my father, has no interest in me. That’s just a fact. I was raised by my grandmother away from town so my interests don’t match most in my age group. That’s all. It’s not a big deal.”

“Zelli,” Tahlen said his name so softly, “is that why you let them do this to you again?”

The heat from his hands was distracting.

Zelli breathed.

“I’m on my way to twenty-two and I’ve never done anything,” he blurted, embarrassed. “With anyone,” he added, because why not make his humiliation as clear as possible? “Though I want to. Well, nothing outside of a few online flirtations when I was younger, which went nowhere, of course. Because it doesn’t take much for people to realize I’m not….” Zelli shut his eyes. “You’re sexy and interesting and beautiful, so you don’t understand. But it’s…. My cousins don’t care about me. I know that. They want to use my money. But I’m alone all the time. It’s me, and everyone in the staff, and Grandmother.”

“And me.”

Zelli opened his eyes, then immediately dropped his head to look at Tahlen’s hands instead of into his eyes. Zelli was supposed to be better than his creepy staring by now. “I just annoy you. Don’t pretend I don’t. My teen years… I am sorry about that.”

Tahlen took a second. “That was a while ago. You don’t need to keep apologizing for it. You didn’t actually do anything.”

“I was inappropriate,” Zelli insisted unhappily, mumbling.

Tahlen inched in closer, bringing Zelli’s gaze back to his frowning face. “You weren’t. And it was years ago. I was also… I was not in a good place at the time, regardless, but you never annoyed me. For fuck’s sake, Zelli,” Tahlen said it with the same softness as before, “I grew up next to your house, to you and your grandmother. I never thought you were spoiled or a brat or creepy. To be honest, I didn’t think of you much at all, then.”

Zelli heaved a sigh, but nodded. “I should be grateful for that.”

Tahlen didn’t budge. “But your grandmother was so worried about you. It made me start to worry about you. It’s second nature now.”

Zelli gave him a sad shrug.  

Frustration flickered through Tahlen’s expression. “Not because you’re helpless—although we are downloading Uber for you when we get home.” He waited, apparently wanting to be certain Zelli was listening, then went on. “Because you care a lot, and the world can be harsh and cold.”

“You really are wonderful, Tahlen.” The tremor hadn’t left Zelli’s voice. Tahlen looked comically startled for a moment, then his frown returned. Zelli hurried away from the careless compliment. “Would you say we’re friends?”

The pinched, pained, vexed look returned to Tahlen’s face. The music downstairs was louder, the silence heavier.

Zelli tried to correct his faux pas. “I’m not very good at people. I’m sorry. Oh, I’m apologizing again—sorry.” He winced and stopped.

Tahlen seemed to be processing. Maybe he’d forgotten his hands were on Zelli. Zelli wondered if he ought to be remind him, worrying he would cause more offense if he did, then that it was creepy not to. That was overthinking, he knew that, and rushed past it.

“I like being your friend.” He meant it. “Though, other than people I might not ever meet in person, that might make you my best friend. Which is,” probably sad, “perhaps uncomfortable for you? Obviously, I don’t expect to be your best friend. That would be presumptuous.”

“Presumptuous,” Tahlen echoed flatly. Displeased.

“We do spend a lot of time together these days,” Zelli realized out loud. They went riding. They shared meals in the kitchen. Grandmother would go to bed early, and many nights, Tahlen stayed up with Zelli in the living room, one or both of them working or reading or on their phone, or not doing anything but watching TV together.

Zelli’s internet friends kept demanding pictures of Tahlen, insisting Zelli had feelings that he had denied to them, despite all the time he spent in Tahlen’s company.

“But I don’t even know if you’re seeing anyone,” Zelli finished, “or bestie things like that.”

“Bestie,” Tahlen repeated, looking at Zelli incredulously before tossing his head to dismiss that. “If I’m not working, I’m generally with you.” He said it like he was spelling something out, which was also how it felt to Zelli, so that must have been what Tahlen was doing. “Because I like spending time with you. Even though you are….” He made an impatient, irritated sound in his throat. Then, raising his eyes, watched Zelli closely, “I invited you out two weeks ago, to see that cartoon movie you wanted to see, in the little movie theater in town.”

“It’s anime, not a cartoon,” Zelli corrected out of habit from a dozen conversations with Tahlen about it. Then he shut his mouth.

Tahlen’s lips were soft, his eyes narrowed but bright. Defiant or worried, Zelli couldn’t decide; it was a new expression and he wasn’t sure of it.

“So,” Tahlen ignored Zelli’s correction, “why say yes to your cousins but not that?”

“I’d make it weird.” Zelli waved his hands around on the word ‘weird’ to show what he meant. “You almost never go to the movies.” Zelli went alone, when he did go, or with Grandmother if she approved of whatever it was. But Tahlen almost never saw anything in theaters. “So, if we went to that, I’d want to make sure you enjoyed yourself, even though you’ll make a face for the story—you know you will, don’t pretend you wouldn’t—and I’d get you soda, and peanut M&Ms, and popcorn, and even those orangey-yellow nachos if you wanted. And I’d probably sit too close to you or stare if you laughed or…” Zelli gulped. “I should stop talking now. I’m not drunk. I’m just… tired. And anxious. I get anxious sometimes. It’s not a big deal. Sorry.”  

“Even the nachos?” Tahlen wondered, his tone also new to Zelli. “You think movie theater nachos are gross.”

“I think they look gross.” Zelli absently wrinkled his nose. “I’ve never had them.” He glanced to Tahlen’s face, his eyes, lit up and not angry. “They serve beer and wine at the little theater. I’d probably try to get you that, too,” Zelli admitted quietly, “and then you’d worry about driving me home, so we’d have to walk for a while or go get coffee or something afterward. And I’d do something stupid, you see, because I don’t know any better. I’d,” he darted his gaze away again, “think it was a date, or feel like it was romantic, and I don’t know what I would say, but it would…”

He stopped as Tahlen leaned in, his face tilted up, his eyes intent. His breath was soft against Zelli’s mouth. His lips looked as if they would also be soft.

“I’d…” Zelli tried again to speak, but forgot what he’d been saying. “Tahlen,” he complained quietly, “it’s 1:30 in the morning. I’m confused. If you don’t stop, I’ll think you want to…”

“Kiss you?” Tahlen finished for him, then did precisely that.

Tahlen’s palm and fingertips grazed the side of Zelli’s face, his thumb brushing Zelli’s abused bottom lip. His lips were soft. His breath was light. His mouth fit easily to Zelli’s. Zelli’s eyes fell closed without his conscious direction. He shivered and didn’t know why, because he was more than warm, more than content, floating despite the heavy rush of his pulse.  

Tahlen eased back, leaving Zelli flushed hot and breathing too hard. Zelli made a small sound of protest and was immediately flustered to hear himself, but Tahlen brought his hand up again before Zelli could try to apologize. He gently urged Zelli to tilt his head to the side and then Tahlen was kissing him again, still careful though not as soft, as if he had tasted Zelli’s mouth was now savoring it, a thought to make Zelli clutch Tahlen’s shoulders and whine for more.

��It would have been a date, Zelli,” Tahlen explained after giving Zelli innumerable breathless, lingering kisses, each of them hotter than the last and hitting Zelli in places Tahlen’s hands never touched. Tahlen sighed the words as though he had been waiting to say them. “That’s why I asked you.”

Zelli forced his eyes open. He leaned away, only enough to find his breath, but Tahlen dropped his hand. It landed back on Zelli’s knee.

The music from downstairs, from outside, was muted. Zelli’s heartbeat was loud.

“Peanut M&Ms are my favorite,” Tahlen revealed quietly.

Zelli’s nod was weak. “I know. I want to give you all your favorite things.” Tahlen’s eyebrows went up as if this was a surprise. Zelli had hidden more than he’d thought he had. “I didn’t because… it would be weird. Wouldn’t it?”

Zelli had just been kissed. Many times. By Tahlen. It was the middle of the night. He wasn’t thinking clearly.

Tahlen eased down onto his knees in front of Zelli once again, his gaze steadying the longer Zelli studied him.

“Wouldn’t it?” Zelli asked again.

“Maybe.” Tahlen quirked a corner of his lips. The lips that just had been on Zelli’s. The lips that kept stealing Zelli’s attention. “But I wouldn’t mind. I…. There’s no one in the whole world, except possibly my sister, who would ever think about giving me all of my favorite things.” He frowned. “Which I am not demanding. But the M&Ms… I’d accept those from you, if you gave them to me.”

“I could do better?” The offer slipped out. “Better than candy and popcorn, I mean. I have money. That zombie show you like… I saw a mug for it the other day and I wanted to get it for you.”  

Tahlen’s frown disappeared. The slight curve returned to his mouth, then a wider one, until Tahlen’s smile was unmistakable.

“Smiling like that for me. What am I supposed to do with that?” Zelli asked helplessly, distantly worried that someone had slipped him something and he was imagining this. The worry became less distant when he saw his hand reaching out and felt the tips of his fingers falling to rest on Tahlen’s lips.

Tahlen closed his eyes.

“Lovely.” Zelli meant it, though he hiccupped when it made Tahlen look at him. “But I don’t know what to do.”  

Tahlen curled his hand around Zelli’s wrist and gently pulled it down to his neck. Zelli splayed his fingers to cover the blue and black ink of the constellation. Tahlen took his hand away, leaving Zelli to overthink petting him or not petting him. It felt good, touching Tahlen. Warming, deep inside, but also physically, practically warm on his skin.   

“Did my grandmother know about this?” The question came out sharp as the possibility occurred to Zelli, but he swept his thumb beneath Tahlen’s ear and Tahlen’s eyes closed again. A slight shiver ran through him. “Oh.” Zelli wasn’t shaking anymore but his heart was pounding. Someone far away, hopefully very far away, was arguing with her boyfriend. He didn’t like the sound. He didn’t want anything to make Tahlen open his eyes to frown. “We should go home. I’ll text my cousins so they’ll know where I got to.” But after he and Tahlen had gone, he decided, so his cousins couldn’t hitch a ride with them. They could find their own ways back.  

Despite Zelli’s meager protective efforts, Tahlen opened his eyes, then tightened his jaw: displeased, but not going to argue. “If you want to,” he said, meaning he wouldn’t have told Zelli’s cousins a damn thing. “It’s your decision.”

“I suppose it is.” Zelli looked from his hand on Tahlen to Tahlen’s face.

“You seem better now,” Tahlen observed. “You scared me when I first saw you. It scared me to get your text. But I’m glad you sent it.”

Zelli pulled his hand back almost guiltily. “Are you? I just told you I’d never done anything and that I’ve been trying not to creep on you, which implies that I wanted to. Which I did. Not be creepy—that’s not what I meant. It’s just… there is no one else like you. I obviously think you’re wonderful. People who’ve never even met you know that.”

Nonplussed was the emotional state conveyed by the twitch of Tahlen’s eyebrows and general stillness. But then Tahlen forced his confusion away and looked to Zelli. “Can I take you home now?”

“All right,” Zelli agreed shyly, even though they both would have gone home anyway, whatever his answer. Then he realized he had no idea what would happen once they got there. “Did I interrupt your night? Until my family showed up, I was looking forward to finishing The Fae and Dragon Chronicles on HBO Max with you. Not that I assumed you’d be watching with me. The past two weeks, you were away a lot…” Tahlen’s eyebrows went up, pointed. “Oh, I see.” Zelli did see. “I’m sorry. I would have said yes. Well, if I’d believed you really wanted to….” The air left him. He took a moment, stunned as the truth sank in. “You really wanted to go on a date with me.”

Tahlen sat up, sliding a hand to the back of Zelli’s neck while leaning in to offer another kiss, less careful, a little harder in a way that had Zelli whining again.

Zelli finally pulled away to bite his tingling bottom lip and stare at Tahlen. At least Tahlen was out of breath too.

“Are you really sure?” Zelli asked, despite the warmth all through him and the smile on Tahlen’s face. “I’m not very attractive, and I’m not as rich as Grandmother, and I am sort of useless around the house.”

Tahlen’s smile slipped. “Mizel.”

“Sorry.” Zelli shook his head. “I do perhaps need the therapy. I know. My father….” He didn’t want to talk about his father now. Or ever, really. He slid ungracefully down to his knees but his tumble made Tahlen’s smile return, and Tahlen put an arm around him before standing up and tugging Zelli to his feet with him. Tahlen’s arm was warm too, and solid, and very steady. Zelli was going to like having it around him too much and make it weird.

No. He stopped that thought there. Tahlen was smiling. It wasn’t weird—or, if it was, Tahlen didn’t mind.

“When we get home” –around 2am by then, but Zelli was hardly going to sleep now— “we might have time for at least one episode. And some tea. Or… we could kiss some more?”

Tahlen kissed him again right there, as if he couldn’t wait.

Zelli wrapped his arms around Tahlen too, worrying over it despite himself.

Tahlen allowed it, in any case. “Tea, and an episode, and kissing,” he agreed, though he might have work to do in the morning. It didn’t seem much of a date, since it was what they might have done anyway, except for the kissing.

At the thought, Zelli frowned thoughtfully, inching back to gaze up into Tahlen’s handsome, flushed face. “Did you feel lonely, sitting with me in the living room in different chairs, on opposite sides of the couch, wishing for… wishing? Because I wished, but I’ve never felt lonely around you. It’s why I…. Of all my Tahlen-feelings, that has never been one of them.”

Tahlen’s gaze met his, nearly glowing from within.

“Oh,” Zelli said, bashfully pleased. He supposed anything else, more questions, more kissing, whatever might follow the kissing, even the tea, could wait. He wasn’t looking forward to the walk back through this house, but the rest made him want to hide his face against Tahlen’s arm or kiss Tahlen harder than Tahlen had kissed him. Which, thankfully, he did not know how to do, and he couldn’t reach Tahlen’s mouth without Tahlen’s help anyway.

“Then I’ve had enough of being out for one night.” He thought Tahlen understood what he meant and agreed, because he took Zelli’s hand to lead him from the room, his post-kiss face hardening into something fierce and unhappy before he opened the door. But his hold on Zelli’s hand did not change, and he kept Zelli close as they made their escape.  

[aurheatum]

@iyusiia

Headcanon prompt / open

Despite clearly drawing inspiration from FE4 and its divinities, godliness in 3h is explicitly linked to motherhood in Fodlan (differing from Naga's depictions in both Archanea and Jugdral).

Sothis is above all the land's progenitor goddess - the emphasis on her femininity and maternal side explicit in the text that shows up in the Fodlan magic circle.

Image: the localized text (right) and a new translation (left) using the exact romanization and wording that shows up in-game whenever white or black magic is cast. Source.

Rhea wants her mother, the Goddess, back; this is the reasoning behind much of what happens in Three Houses, including Byleth's own origin. But does Rhea want to be a god, herself? Much less a mother?

I don't think so. She states at the end of SS "I wished desperately to be held in my mother's arms once more", very clearly placing herself in the role of child when it comes to Sothis (funny, she can only admit to this when she knows it is no longer possible).

Here's a much harder, question, then, is Rhea a mother despite her own wants? Let's dig in!

As her new FEH unit aptly puts (in both her Japanese and English title for it) Rhea is quite literally the matriarch of the entire Seiros religion. Even if it is, as hinted, based on what the Sothis religion looked like while the goddess was still alive it was created by Seiros, named after her, and has been strictly guided by the same archbishop for a millennia now.

She is also the creator of twelve living beings or vessels - ending with Sitri (and this is not to mention her altered golems, all named after people dear to her). Textually, there is no doubt that as a creator to one who "loved as a human" and someone who, to use an alternate translation of Sothis' magical circle, was indeed "a creature who possessed a heart", Rhea is a mother, even going so far as to say that is exactly how Sitri viewed her.

It is telling though, isn't it, the way she phrases it? While she acknowledges she was a mother figure to Sitri, and even admits to affection toward her* -- nowhere does she ever say she considers Sitri her daughter.

She would never truly be able to admit that, after all; to be a mother is simply not something Rhea can ever comphrehend because it would put her as equal to her mother ("I have only ever been acting as your proxy" she tells Byleth when still convinced they will awaken as Sothis).

And yet, despite it all, she has indeed become one in her single-minded pursuit to bring the dead back to life.

Post canon would she ever be able to come to terms with all this? That's a little bit out of the range of my portrayal I have to say, but probably only in her endings where she goes to live with Catherine in Zanado and actually has time time to unpack all of the lies she's told both the world and herself.

*I want to add that, in her own weird, winding Nabatean way, I do think Rhea at least considered Sitri to be family or special. I went into this more in another meta but never added what really sets it apart to me: the reason she gave Sitri a private open casket burial and preserved her body, in my opinion, is because this is something she never could do for the rest of her family (tfw ur either a pebble or sword). It is one of the highest forms of love an eternally grieving woman like Rhea can give.

[spookyspecterino]

Hey everyone!

Just to give you all an update-

I'm 90% moved into my new apartment and I'm hoping that things will settle down now. For a while I was on that 9-5 grind and then going back to my new home and just unpacking, setting things up, and sleeping. It was rough and I had no energy to write at all.

That being said, I'm still working on my Tangerine fic. Chapter 7 is pretty much the halfway point in the story, and I want to finish it out strong. It may be delayed a little longer, I want to write out a few chapters at the same time and post them on a schedule (like I should have done at the start-- but you live and learn, right?).

I'll be 100% honest with you all... the Tangerine hyperfixation has been slipping, my attention span can only hold onto things for so long.

My current plan is to finish out my ideas for Tangerine while writing other short stuff on the side that I personally have more of an interest in. I'd feel super guilty if I didn't finish my fics (even though this is a free hobby, that's personally how I feel).

This update, in part, is to let everyone know that you'll be seeing different stuff from me at the same time.

Now, lets address the House of Dragons shit posting...

It's safe to say that this show is my new obsession. I love me some Harwin Strong and that tall freak Aemond Targaryen. I have ideas and I have plans. (If anyone wants to see some fics for them I could possibly make that happen...just let me know.)

As I get more time, I'd like to explore many different fandoms and even return to a few. (FC5 still eats at me--those Seed boys won't leave me alone and it doesn't help that it's my comfort game. I'm also playing cyberpunk for the first time...some of you can already guess as to who I like...)

I wish I could, but unfortunately I can't limit myself to a single fandom, my brain will shrivel up and I'll hate it. This is always how it's been and I really don't want to just abandon my blog altogether if it means staying exclusively in the bullet train fandom.

If multi-fandoms aren't your thing, I totally get it, and that's ok! Thanks for spending time with me and reading my stuff! <3

Anyway, that's all. Thanks for all the love and support, you all really inspire me to do my best! Here's to many more fics in the future!

<3 <3 <3

[ethernetmeep]

apparently my suspicion i would cry today was correct; although it was only in the early, dark hours of the morning. it was over a hypothetical. i no longer think i hold out hope for a certain expression of regret anymore, which is.. depressing. undeserved, according to some Guy or Two. i have no comment on it.

i went to bed around 4 am and got two hours of sleep. i didn’t dream anything— if i did, it was all white noise. the calmest my subconscious mind has been in what is arguably a long amount of time. i stayed up reading a story i found fascinating. i have a snippet from it, just for you, dear reader:

VOICE: You are traveling the aberrant strand; a singularly stable flaw in the fabric of reality. As it carries you further from the world you know, you will be freed from the influence of the old laws. You have already noticed the effects in those who settled the road, those who were lost to it and in yourself; energy without consumption, knowledge without requisite experience. You are shedding entropy, and causality and in time you will reach realms of understanding you cannot currently fathom. You will find answers to questions you never thought to ask. You will discover absolute truth. For this reason, you will carry on.

in the early hours of the day, all i said after putting this quote was that it would be a good pep talk. i now realize this is probably silly to say. i.. sort of have no comment for this, either; just find it a good quote from what is admittedly a r/nosleep story.

i almost puked twice today. the first time was understandable— not fully rational, but not everything is— and the second time was merely from not feeling well. i managed to hold in my bile. the sort of heart/throat burn my medication manages to give me when ingested in certain ways i can’t even decipher is horrible. this, both combined with the stress and worry that would most certainly knock a regular person unconscious, worry embarrassingly personal, made me puke way back then. i remember that day vividly.. i guess i remember many things vividly. while i was walking home i remembered the time when the grass was especially green and there were still bees and wasps outside. i remember the exact place i stood as i stopped in place to type weird little letters on my phone to another person. i remember seeing a sweat bee. the sun was rather bright because it was early. i remember.. almost too much. it’s uncomfortable, because it makes me feel like im abnormally off putting because of what things i can and cannot remember.

i also recall a routine of mine. right side of the bus in the morning, left in the afternoon. this makes for a jarring occurrence every other day where i continuously have to be reminded of my own shortcomings, again and again. every day. still, i don’t wish to break the routine— its one of the few things which keeps me sane

..unrelated, but my kafka book has seemingly gone missing— or more likely swept in a nook somewhere. ironic as soon as i was getting into more kafka work the one piece i have of his disappears. maybe it means something, maybe it doesn’t. i don’t have the capacity to try and unpack a books misplacement. i had already worked on what is essentially a riddle for two hours or more over my break, and i am not quite in the mood for more mind fuckery today. maybe tomorrow.

i might take a nap. who knows. as always be safe you possible hypothetical readers or all that

[thegraygardens]

23/11/05

Depression sucks.

Life sucks.

I’m hope, I took a shower and unpacked my stuff and the goodies I had ordered online. My amazon orders come tomorrow and tuesday which is good.

My grandmother is in better health somewhat, I’ve been super upset over her the past few days. When I was out of town, I did cry myself to sleep a lot and know it’s not healthy. She’s been eating more and she’s a kickass chick, I know she can beat this and stick around longer I just worry a lot

My worst trait is I feel like I feel like I have to deal with everything on my own and not bother others, I know it can get me in a lot of trouble someday; I just feel like I have to carry this and deal with it

It’s probably just why my depression’s been getting so much worse over the past month or so, it just feels like it’s getting worse.. thankfully, I see my doctor soon, so thankfully can get this resolved; I want to get a higher dosage of medicine and try to talk about something for weight loss.

I started watching Heartstopper on Netflix, I finished The Vanishing at The Cecil Hotel yesterday and it was pretty okay even though it made me have more questions than answers. Heartstopper seems pretty cute, I’m watching the first episode and it makes me pretty hopeful. My love life while being trans and bi is very lonely, I really don’t have much of a love life and it’s been pretty sad. It is pretty hard being able to really “safe” or finding a sense of belonging even in the gay community, even in the lgbt community there is a lot of anti trans people within the community that want to drop the t. It’s pretty sad.

I just wish to not be lonely and have more people that care. I do really appreciate the people I have and I know they could possibly be indifferent to me if I came out, I do “stealth” in my workplace and can imagine it would be like my last workplace if I came out again. I don’t know.. it’s just a scary world and especially in the climate we’re at right now.

I’m trying to distract myself and stay positive.

[cjbolan]

Up to Chapter 11 of Emily Windsnap and the Tides of Time. SO MUCH TO UNPACK...

This book is the plots of 13 Going on 30, Groundhog Day, Cinderella 3: A Twist in Time,  Everything Everywhere All At Once, and MCU’s What If...? , all rolled into one. Funny coincidence I’m reading this during the premiere of Indiana Jones 5, which also involves time travel.

This is the first book to mention movies a lot. Something to think about.

Love the slow build of dread and suspense! What would last only a chapter in the previous books, this book drags out for 4 chapters.

Shona’s future may be the saddest part of the entire series.

I think the rest of this story is going to be just Emily making wish after wish and going into different futures/alternate universes each time.

Love me some more Emily/Shona lesbian undertones. With the way Emily is WAY more upset at possibly losing Shona than Mandy, her telling Shona how much they’d been through together (despite knowing each other for only a year), even her fiercely staring into Shona’s eyes. Also throughout the series she talks a lot about Shona’s good looks and never about Mandy’s. (If Emily and Shona are a lesbian couple, then I think Mandy would totally ship them ^_^)

After Aaron and Sam, maybe Aiden Harris will be Emily’s next boytoy.

Love the callbacks to the previous books. Mainly Books 1 and 4. 

Mary P.’s new marital status is both funny and sad. It’s sad that she and Jake broke up and I understand why. But I laughed out loud at her dumping him for Mr. Beeston. Because...just...WHY BEESTON? Why him of all people? I’m sure Mary P. had her pick of nice handsom younger men closer to her age.  He’s much older than her, drugged and spied on her for 12 years (as Emily aptly recaps), did he drug her again into marrying him? Did she marry him simply because he’s rich now? Is Mary P. now a gold digger? What’s even funnier is the idea of a Mr. Beeston/Mary P. romance was played in Book 1 as a joke. Feels super absurd to see that joke become real and now played for drama. Maybe that’s what the author intended. On a heartwarming note, it is nice to see Emily’s parents still care for each other even after getting divorced.

Also Mary P. has WEIRD tastes in men. Not only does she dump Jake for a man twice her age, but in the previous book she flirted behind his back with an underage boy half her age. Sometimes I think Jake deserves better XD. Speaking of Jake...

It makes sense why Jake aged much more than Mr. Beeston, despite being younger.  Because Jake spent 20 years swimming in filthy polluted waters -- I’m surprised he didn’t look as awful as poor Shona -- meanwhile Mr. Beeston was living in clean air and the lap of luxury thanks to Midas Enterprises. Maybe that’s why Mr. Beeston still looks the same.  At first I thought it because he’s half merman and maybe mermen are immune to aging. Or they just age slower. Maybe that’s another reason Mary P. and Jake broke up -- merpeople live much longer and age slower than humans, so Jake couldn’t stand the thought of outliving his human wife. Even worse if they couldn’t grow old together. But instead, I think Beeston with his new wealth just has a really good skincare routine. Or plastic surgery. Or something. We may never know.

Poetry runs in Emily’s blood. Not only did she successfully decipher a bunch of poems in Book 8, but here in the future she teaches poetry to school children. Again not surprised with her dad Jake being a poet. I now wonder if Jake taught poetry to Emily, or if she has a natural gift for poetry like he does.  I also wonder if Jake helped Emily get her English teaching job. It’s implied he was still involved in her upbringing, even after he and her mom split up.

Jake:  *to Emily* “We still care about each other, your mom and I...we always will. Whatever we managed to do wrong we did one thing right, and that was you.”

Taking my time with this book because my summer is pretty busy. Will keep y’all updated!

[kittyball23]

Home (an Incredibles fanfic)

A/N: I’ve been slacking off putting some of my fics on Tumblr, so here they all come xD

Summary: After the jet destroys the Parrs' home, their new place of residence doesn't exactly leave the best first impression on the family

__________________________________________ 

"This is our new house?"

Normally, Dash would be reprimanded for taking on such a tone of criticism in his voice after being offered something out of kindness. Now however, Bob and Helen Parr could only stand in numb silence as they observed the tacky looking building from the outside.

The neon sign, meant to look welcoming, flickered somewhat ominously at the rooftop, casting an eerie orange glow over the area. The motel itself was in a questionable shape, with paint peeling off of the colored doors, walls splattered with dirty stains, and a pool rather unfit for swimming with how much grime was floating around inside. It was certainly a far cry from anything Superheroes should be living in - even their old house, while mediocre, was a much more suitable place to reside in. But that, of course, was no longer a possibility, not after how the abode was so quickly decimated after Syndrome's jet had fallen atop of it in a fiery explosion.

Things were not that much better upstairs in their actual apartment, either. The interior looked as though it had not been cleaned in ages, with dust as far as the eye could see and cobwebs upon every corner. A fly or two incessantly buzzed around, and a lone cockroach scurried away quickly when the lights were turned on. The grimaces on the family's faces only furthered, leaving them speechless to offer any sort of comment.

But regardless, Helen tried.

"Well…." she began, uncertain exactly of where to start. "It's uh… certainly not what we used to have..."

Violet scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You could say that again."

Helen gave her daughter a look before letting out a sigh. It wasn't as if she could disagree. There was barely enough room for Bob's hulking frame, let alone a family of five Supers, four of which held a myriad of powers begging to be used. How she wished she could be like her youngest child at that moment, little Jack-Jack, who was powerless and innocent to the world around him. But upon taking a closer look at her son, she could see that even he knew this place was not top notch. His large blue eyes curiously looked around, scrutinizing, before he decidedly scrunched his little nose in a show of disgust.

"All right," she said. "I guess we better get to unpacking." There wasn't much that was saved, but what was had been stowed away in a few boxes.

Dash groaned. "Do we have to?"

"Yes," Helen replied sternly.

"How long do we hafta stay?" the boy asked.

"I… um…" The woman paused, realizing that she wasn't entirely sure how their living situation was to be handled. She had not had a job since Violet was born. And Bob had lost his over two months ago, with his only other supply of money from Syndrome's operation no longer being an option. She glanced over at Bob with the question in her eyes.

The man heaved a tired sigh and stepped up. "Well, Dicker said the Supers Relocation Program would be able to cover the expenses for now."

"If that's the case, why didn't we get placed somewhere nicer?" Violet asked, clearly upset.

Helen glared at the girl again, but Bob spoke up before she could say anything to her. "It was the best that Dicker could do, honey. The program… hasn't really been as active in recent years, and financially, they're uh… they're not exactly that well off."

The teen turned away, shaking her head. "Just like us," she muttered. Not arguing the matter though, she began to get to work, going outside to grab the boxes left just outside the door so she could bring them in.

With nothing more to say, either, Dash got to work helping his sister, making sure to give the place another once over before he went outside. Jack Jack distracted himself from the surroundings by chewing on a rubber duck toy he was holding in between his chubby little hands.

Bob and Helen in the meantime exchanged a look.

They both understood where the kids' feelings were coming from. It was the same feelings they had. But, it was the best Dicker could offer, and they had no other choice… not unless they wanted to end up in the street. And so, sucking in the rest of their resolve, the pair followed suit and started working to unload what they had into the empty space, hoping that it would look more homely afterward and, more importantly, hoping that something better was coming along soon for them all.

[edactually]

Ed POV - 10.8

The rest of the morning passed far too quickly for Ed’s liking.

Even though he was more than happy to reciprocate, Stede insisted that there simply wasn’t time and hopped into the shower. He even locked the bathroom door behind him. Clever little bastard knew Ed would just follow him in there and try to distract him from all things time-related.

When Stede emerged and declared the bathroom free, he sent Ed along with a playful slap to his bare ass, but then he was already walking over to the closet to retrieve his suitcase before Ed could get him pressed against the wall or drop down to his knees. Ed resigned himself to having to shower alone.

He was quick about it, but even so, he came back into the bedroom to find that Stede had already made a decent start on his packing. Ed considered sulking and unpacking things when Stede’s back was turned, perhaps even sitting in his suitcase like a cat who was feeling spiteful about not being invited along on a vacation. Instead he played the good boyfriend and assisted, and Stede’s case was soon packed.

They decided it was best that Stede didn’t join the rest of the band for their discussion of the plan of action. It made more sense for him to slip away quietly and for Ed to break the news that he and Stede were ‘no longer together.’

“I wish I could see Iggy’s face when you tell him.”

Stede looked very smug indeed as he trundled his case down the hall to the elevator with Ed walking alongside him. It was the same expression Ed imagined Izzy would have when he broke the news, only on Stede it was endearing not infuriating.

“He’s gonna find out we lied to him eventually.” Ed spoke casually, but really his words were more of a hint. 

What was the time limit on this secret relationship? How long did they have to keep up the charade? When could Ed hold Stede’s fucking hand in public?

“I want to see his face then, too.” Stede giggled as they reached the elevator and he pressed the button to call it. Stede would be going down to the lobby alone, and Ed would take the next one to meet the band.

But when the doors slid open and Stede turned to give him a goodbye kiss, Ed couldn’t bear it. Their last goodbye had been too similar to this one. 

He wanted to go with Stede all the way to the airport. He wanted to go through security and see him right to his gate. He wanted to get on the plane with him and fly home and curl up on the couch together and just put the whole tour behind him.

But there was one thing he could have.

Ed backed Stede into the elevator and Stede stumbled, almost leaving his case behind, but Ed grabbed it and wheeled it into the metal box with them. He slapped the button for the lobby while Stede looked on in bewilderment. “I thought you weren’t–”

As soon as the elevator started moving, Ed pressed the emergency stop button.

Stede gasped. “Edward, we do not have time–”

Ed shoved Stede’s suitcase into a corner to give them as much space as possible and then he was crowding in, pushing Stede up against the wall. And then just in case he wasn’t being clear enough about his intentions: “I want to make you come so hard that you forget your own name and have to use mine.”

“Really, Edward, that’s–”

“Payback for earlier when you did it to me.” He braced his arms on the wall on either side of Stede so he was pinned between them and slotted his thigh between Stede’s legs. “C’mon baby, let me send you off properly.”

He shifted his thigh to press firmer against the front of Stede’s trousers and was satisfied to witness a bitten lip as Stede tried to hold back a moan. “Devious bastard.” Stede huffed. “Yes.”

As if Ed was ever really going to let Stede leave without bringing him to earth-shattering ecstasy first. Stede had wanted to give Ed something to remember him by and it wasn’t a competition but Ed would be damned if he didn’t send his boyfriend on his way breathless and satisfied with his mind clouded over. Ed wanted Stede to remember exactly what he had, exactly what was waiting for him as soon as they were reunited. He wouldn’t even be able to think of anyone else. Not that he thought Stede would cheat on him in their time apart, but still, a little reminder that he’d never have it so good with anyone else couldn’t hurt.

Ed’s thigh pressed firmly between Stede’s legs, sliding slowly back and forth. They didn’t have that much time but he wanted to get Stede worked up a little before they got to what he had planned. “You thought you could just blow my mind then hop on a plane without giving me a chance to return the favour?”

Stede whimpered and his hands flew to Ed’s back, the short and well-manicured nails digging into his skin through his shirt. Fuck yes. He hoped that Stede would clutch hard enough to leave little crescent-shaped divots in his flesh. Mark him up, claim him, prove that Ed was the only one for him.

Stede was trying to pull him in closer and Ed went, taking the opportunity to glide his tongue along Stede’s throat as the other man tipped his head back. He was still fresh from his shower; Ed could smell the soap on his skin and… there it was. Stede’s cologne but it smelled different than usual - a touch more vanilla, maybe a hint of sugar (god he was so fucking sweet) but what was that little extra touch?

The realisation came to him and he grinned as he skated his mouth along Stede’s jawline. “You used some of my lavender this morning, didn’t you?”

Stede whimpered and gave no verbal answer, just a shaky nod of his head.

“Does it remind you of me now?” Ed’s lips reached Stede’s ear and he tugged lightly at the earlobe with his teeth before releasing. “Did you use it because you wanted to feel like I was all over you like this? Wanted to sit on that plane home and imagine I was there with you?”

Another whimper.

Ed could read him like a book. “Yeah, you put it on to make sure I never leave your thoughts, didn’t you?”

Stede was gasping as Ed continued to slide his thigh back and forth and Ed could feel Stede’s hips twitching as he tried to seek out more friction as best he could while pinned to the wall of the elevator. Stede’s voice was hoarse when he spoke. “I don’t need lavender for that. You’re always in my thoughts.”

Romantic bastard. How was Ed supposed to resist that?

He pulled away and immediately dropped to his knees. The impact was a little too forceful and he grunted as he landed just a touch too heavily on his bad knee. Of course Stede was immediately flustered. “Ed, you shouldn't do that! You’re going to hurt yourself and–”

“Stede.” He warned, but didn’t add to it. 

But Stede would not be silenced so easily. Now that he was no longer pinned, he was wriggling out of his coat, muttering complaints under his breath about how careless Ed was with himself, all while Ed was trying to unbutton Stede’s trousers. It would be easier if Stede would just stop fucking moving for a second.

“Here.” Stede held out his coat, folded up into a wad that looked like it was definitely going to crease the fabric. “Put it under your knee.”

“Mate, it’s fine, really.”

“Shut up and let me take care of you.”

Even though he’d been the one dominating this interaction only moments ago, Ed allowed the sudden shift. Maybe someone else might have found interrupting a passionate moment to look after a bum knee to be a bit of a mood killer but Ed’s heart just felt so full of adoration for this man who was so determined to look after him that he’d get bossy to do it.

Ed accepted the coat and tucked it under his knee. He had to admit, it did feel better to have it cradled in something soft instead of pressing against the hard elevator floor. “You happy now?”

“That depends, does your knee hurt?”

“No.”

“Then I’m happy.” Stede’s hand cupped Ed’s cheek, tilting his head slightly so he had to look up at him. God he looked radiant. Stede was warm and golden, shining beautifully down on him like the sun.

No, not the sun. The sun was big and bold and everyone felt its warmth, and yes that was how it felt to be around Stede but there was something else about him, something that was just for Ed.

His hazel eyes glittered even in the unflattering elevator lighting.

Stede was like the stars.

Sparkling, twinkling, ever present even when they couldn’t be seen and lighting up Ed’s darkness. Sailors used the stars to navigate, and Stede had been guiding Ed ever since they first met.

“Everything ok, darling?”

The question took him by surprise, and he realised he had been silently gazing up at Stede in awestruck wonder like a lovesick fool. Ed had planned on rough passion in this little metal box, yet Stede had made him go all mushy with romance without even trying.

Fuck, if only they had more time.

“Everything’s great.” Now that Stede had stilled, Ed was finally able to get his trousers undone and yanked down over his hips. Stede let out a startled gasp at the force of it, but Ed wasn’t done yet. He was face to face with that delightful bulge in Stede’s mustard-yellow boxer briefs. How appropriate. He knew Stede was aware of what the colour choice meant as well because Ed looked up to see him blushing. “Now you’re going to fuck my face.”

“What?” Stede looked startled like a deer in headlights. “But– but last time–”

So Ed hadn’t been ready and Stede had been a little over-zealous. So what? They’d still had a pretty fucking great time. “Practice makes perfect, right?”

“I don’t want to hurt–”

“You’re not going to hurt me, Stede.” Ed already knew he could take Stede into his throat, he just wanted something a little rougher. Wanted it hard enough that it made his voice hoarse and his jaw ache and he’d get to feel like Stede was still there long after it was over. “I trust you.”

Stede’s face crumpled and god damn it, if he kept looking at him like that then Ed was going to start crying at all the concern Stede had for his well being. “But I don’t know how to do it without hurting you.”

“Baby it’s ok.” Ed stroked Stede’s thigh in what he hoped was a reassuring way. “I can handle it. We’ll start out slow, yeah? I’ll start sucking, get you all nice and wet, and then when I give you one of these,” Ed paused to wink. “Then you start moving your hips. Start out slow if you like, but don’t be afraid to go faster, harder.” Ed shivered. “Fuck, just grab hold of my hair as a handhold and fucking take what you want from me.”

Now Stede looked like he was getting into the idea, although Ed could still see doubt on his face. “You’ll give me a double tap if it’s too much?”

“Promise. And you’ll use our safe word if you need to stop.” Ed slapped Stede’s thigh twice to demonstrate. “Now, are you good? Clock is ticking and I really want you to come down my throat.”

Stede rolled his eyes but didn’t admonish Ed for his language. “Since you promised to stop if it’s too much, yes.” Stede hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear and tugged them down over his hips. “But I’m warning you, Edward, if I think you’re uncomfortable for even a second and you’re not telling me, I’ll stop.”

Only Stede could make Ed not looking after himself a threat. Fuck, he was so enamoured with this sweet man.

However, Ed did not have space for quips in his head, as he was all consumed with thoughts of getting Stede’s dick in his mouth.

As soon as the head slipped past his lips, Ed regretted that his choice to do this now meant that they’d been slapped with a time limit. He couldn’t savour it as much as he wanted to, and he made a mental promise to carve out all the time he needed to truly enjoy his boyfriend’s cock in his mouth next time he got this chance.

Stede’s hands were already in his hair as Ed started to suck, his tongue laving over Stede’s cock to get it as wet and slick as possible. He wanted to go slower, but if what he wanted was for Stede to fuck his mouth so hard that his throat ached, then he really did have to speed towards the main event. He sucked faster, his head bobbing back and forth and taking a bit more of Stede’s cock each time, and Ed barely registered Stede’s breathless gasps above him. He was on a mission here.

Satisfied, Ed allowed his jaw to loosen and looked up at Stede. He stopped moving and just held Stede’s cock in his mouth until the man looked down at him, and Ed winked.

The first thrust could hardly be qualified as such, it was so tentative. Ed would have made an unhappy noise about it but he knew Stede was still finding his feet and that he’d take such a sound as either mocking or Ed being uncomfortable, and things would stop.

The second one was better, working a little deeper into his mouth and Ed moaned around Stede’s cock in a way that he hoped was both loud and encouraging enough to spur Stede on. It seemed to do the trick as Stede’s pace increased a little, although Ed noticed the shaking in the man’s legs that hinted he was holding back.

After a few more shallow thrusts, the control faltered, and Ed suddenly felt Stede’s cock hit the back of his throat. Stede immediately started backing off but Ed grabbed on tightly to his hips to try and keep him in place. There was no utterance of their safe word, so Ed assumed Stede was willing to keep going and his fear of hurting Ed had just got the better of him for a moment. Ed let out another deep, rumbling moan around the cock in his mouth and Stede must have felt it reverberating on his length as he shuddered.

As much as Ed wanted to move his head and meet Stede halfway, he had to let Stede set the pace for this. The grip on his hair tightened as Stede used it like the handhold Ed had asked for, and he thrust forward again. Stede was still hesitant when he hit the back of Ed’s throat for a second time, and he realised it was because he was listening for the sound of Ed choking like he had the first time this had happened.

But Ed was ready for it now.

His only method of encouragement with his mouth full was to let out a consistent stream of moans and pleased sounds while praying that Stede took the hint. It must have been working, because Stede started to increase his speed. The thrusts were short and shallow, but he was actually fucking Ed’s mouth while holding Ed’s head in place to take him. It was better than he could have imagined and Ed let his eyes drift closed as he allowed his boyfriend to use his mouth as he liked.

The thrusts went deeper and Ed felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. Shit, he hoped Stede wasn’t looking at him - he’d definitely think the tears were a sign that Ed was being hurt. He opened one eye and whimpered at the sight. Stede had his head thrown back against the wall and he looked divine with bliss as he fucked Ed’s face. It was as Ed was looking at him that Stede’s other hand grabbed at his hair and Ed found both of his boyfriend’s hands pushing down on his head. Stede was so caught up in pleasure that he wasn’t a bundle of anxiety any more.

That’s it, baby. Take what you fucking want.

He had to say the words in his head rather than out loud, but he hoped Stede knew that was what he was thinking.

Stede’s nails were digging into his scalp, his cock was fucking Ed’s mouth and throat raw and there was nowhere else he’d rather be. As Stede went deeper, Ed occasionally found his air supply cut off, but it was always brief, never long enough for him to tap out and frankly the feeling of Stede in his throat was worth it.

Ed could hear the garbled sounds coming from Stede above him and knew his end was close. He relaxed his throat as much as he could, allowed Stede to take and take and take and then finally felt the throbbing in his mouth as Stede came, hot and bitter and right down Ed’s throat.

He swallowed it down eagerly but stayed where he was. This was all about what Stede wanted, and if Stede wanted to be still and feel nothing but Ed swallowing, then that was what he would get.

Stede finally used his hold to push Ed’s head back and let his cock fall free. Ed stayed kneeling where he was as Stede tucked himself back into his pants, feeling completely dazed and breathless. He only snapped out if it when Stede knelt down in front of him, concern knitting his brow. He produced a red handkerchief, and if Ed had been more with it he would have laughed.

As it was, he smirked and saw the roll of Stede’s eyes in acknowledgement as he wiped the handkerchief around Ed’s mouth. He hadn’t even thought about the mess he’d made of himself, but now he realised his beard was wet with the drool he’d produced as he let his boyfriend fuck his mouth.

“Are you alright, my darling?”

Oh.

That was new.

‘Darling’ he’d heard before but ‘my darling’ had never been uttered by Stede before. A two-letter, one-syllable word but it made Ed feel faint with the possessiveness it implied.

Yes, I’m yours.

I’m yours, Stede, all yours.

I’m your darling and you’re mine and I–

Not the time.

Ed just nodded and Stede helped him up to his feet before retrieving his rumpled coat from the ground. It was creased to hell when Stede put it back on but it didn’t seem to bother him as much as Ed expected. Stede pressed the emergency stop button again and the elevator resumed its descent.

He knew they wouldn’t have the luxury of another private moment when they reached the lobby. This was a bustling hotel, not his apartment building. Fucking hell, one day he’d be able to give Stede the proper goodbye kiss that he deserved. For now they had to settle for quick and Ed leaped on Stede like a man possessed. The kiss was desperate and frantic as they clutched at one another, searing the moment into their brains and taking this final opportunity to just drink each other in before they were separated once more.

Ed’s cheeks were wet with tears when the elevator dinged and they had to pull apart.

He could tell by the look on Stede’s face that he wanted nothing more than to hold him, to kiss those tears away and tell Ed that everything would be alright, but he couldn’t. The distance they had to put between them was agonising as the doors slid open and Stede stepped out into the lobby with his suitcase.

He had to appear nonchalant. That was what they had agreed on in case anyone was lurking who had seen the photos. Stede strode away from him without looking back, pulling his phone from his pocket and idly tapping away with his thumb. He looked just like any other traveller, checking over their departure plans.

The elevator doors slid shut and obscured him from view and Ed wept openly as he stabbed at the button for Izzy’s floor. He hated knowing that the tears would sell the story to his bandmates about his breakup with Stede. That wasn’t what they were for. They were for all the sorrow and rage that punctured Ed’s heart like arrows, because it shouldn’t have to be like this. He should have been able to kiss his boyfriend goodbye without caring about who was watching or who saw them together. He should have been able to leave with him, to go home.

Instead, Ed remained stuck with a life that he didn’t want any more. He’d suspected it for a long time, but meeting Stede had just confirmed what he already knew.

He didn’t want to do this any more.

The elevator opened on Izzy’s floor and Ed’s phone buzzed as he started striding down the hall.

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[random-yandere-fandom]

Could I request yandere Eren Yeager please?

guess whose internet was being a dick again? That’s right, mine.

Yandere Eren Yaeger headcanons

There is a lot to unpack with this one. 

It’d the easiest for him to fall for you if you knew each other in his childhood already or in the trainee days where he was still relatively trusting. Eren wouldn’t even notice his own feelings at first, only being more cheerful and competetive when you were around. His emotions wouldn’t even be that dangerous at the time, sure, he would be a bit clingy and protective, but that would be pretty much a given seeing the circumstances.

The others will notice though and tease him about it and while Mikasa wouldn’t be all that enthusiastic, she wishes for him to be happy. Still, you should try not to spar with her for a while. Armin would take note quite quickly and be supportive, even though he thinks it’s a bit awkward at first. He will pretty much be the one to tell his friend that he has a crush on you, though once that is done Eren will be quicker to notice the signs. 

As soon as Eren is aware of his still harmless feelings he’ll try hard to impress you and show himself as reliable, offering a helping hand and showing off as often as possible. At this stage he would be accepting if you make it clear that you aren’t interested, even if he would be hurt he’d try to stay friends. Should you let him be for whatever reason though, his feelings will grow stronger and darker the more time passes and the more the dangers of the world you live in are revealed.

He’ll become extremely close to you, jealousy slowly taking form and going from innocent remarks and attention seeking to threats spoken behind your back and possessiveness. Once again, Armin would have to try to get him to his senses, his perceptiveness a valuable asset as he notices the changes in Eren. However there is a limit to everything and with a bit of convincing from the titan shifter and his own hope in one of his closest friends, he’ll believe that he wouldn’t do such things and has himself under control. Along with Mikasa though they’ll have an eye on their friend, causing Eren to be forced to be more rational.  

Still, the longer he spends by your side, the more he realizes just how important you are to him and how horrific it would be should you get hurt. While he encourages everyone else to join the scouts he is hesitant and later downright against you joining them, no matter how strong and fast you are, all those traits would be for naught in the grasp of a titan and their overwhelming power. The guy would try to badmouth them and try to appeal to your every whim in hopes of having an easier time to persuade you. Though, should you truly wish to join the scouts he would feel guilty for taking away your dreams and, most importantly, your freedom to choose for yourself. With enough persuasion he would agree with the condition of being in the same squad as him or at least Mikasa or Armin. 

Once they have their first mission he is quick to pull all registers to get you into his team, even throwing a tantrum would be nothing compared to the worry cursing through him. As soon as you’re out on the battle field, not even having chosen your future career, you are already confronted with a cruel reality as friends fall left and right. The horror, the impending feeling of doom and anger at your on helplessness, none of it matters in the face of the foe. One can only hope that you live long enough for Eren’s titan from to emerge, the urge to protect lovely you and kill all those pests that dared to harm his friends and set their sights on you next enough to send him raging across town, tearing at steaming flesh and bones until he can move onto the next enemy, searching the living for a familiar face.   

After finding you he’ll follow you, who is, quite frankly, terrified of a titan ignoring everyone else only to chase after your desperate form. With Armin’s quick thinking skills you lead him to headquaters and once again Eren will find himself throwing punch after punch at the seemingly endless horde of mindless titans. Afterwards, after enduring absolute hell, the mess still isn’t over as a familiar figure is stuck to the neck of the abnormal titan. Even at his ensuing awakening from unconsciousness he will demand to know if you are safe, confusion and fatigue hazing his mind until he registers the current situation he finds himself in. 

Really, after everything everyone just went through you’d deserve a break, time to rest and mourn, but the world is moving too fast to grant that wish to anyone. You’re reminded of that when you stare at the multitude of soldiers and the end of their weapons, apprehension and dread making the air heavy, making it hard to breathe. All you three can do, Mikasa, Armin and you, crowded protectively around unconscious Eren, is stale for time and hope that no terror breaks out, one wrong move and you’ll be wiped of the face of an earth you have yet to see, yet to explore.

The following minutes are nerve-wracking and for a single second you wish to abandon your little group if it meant saving your own skin, to flee behind the towering walls of guards and leave this mess behind. But you can’t and you know it, so you won’t. Instead you place all your trust in the blonde that marches forward through the smoke created by Eren’s transformation. There is not much else to do as your friend holds you behind him, arms wide in an attempt to somewhat cover you from possible attacks and give you a sense of safety. You don’t want to take cover behind him, but his expression, serious as never before, also prevents you from stepping any further, to stand beside your friends as one unit while Armin takes care of the rest. You don’t know if you feel relieved at the extra protection or inferior to the ones you trained alongside with.

The next days happen in a blur, in seconds that feel like years, moments stretching into infinity before time speeds up, snapping back, so that it’s impossible to catch up. Among these moments that seemed to ignore all laws of science burned into your mind, the most monumental was creeping into your thoughts whenever possible. 

Eren was being brought to court. His hair was disheveled, his head kept down. The chains were locked to the pole as he was made to kneel before those that claim to be justice. You could feel his childhood friends tensing beside you at the sight, eyes locked onto him. You stare at him, too, nervousness bubbling uncomfortable in your gut. In one slow movement as to not incure the wrath of his captors, as if he sensed it, Eren lifted his head, facing you. Upon eye contact time stills, seemingly bending and breaking and screeching to a halt at the fire in his eyes, intense and scarring, and if you didn’t know any better you would have flinched. If you didn’t know any better, you might have gasped and cowered, but you know the fire won’t burn you, or at least, you hope so, and you return the heavy gaze flitting over your body, worry being replaced with relief as he takes note of your uninjured state. He glances at Armin and Mikasa beside you, calmer than before, but has to turn his head downward again after being ordered to do so.

The coming months are rough. There is so much death surrounding you like a disease, but Eren makes sure to shield you. He can’t allow any mistakes, any wasted opportunities or revelations if he wants you to be safe because then, sometime in the future, you’d be free and surely you’d travel the world with him. You would be side by side as all annoyances are finally taken care of, no one to disturb the two of you, only occasional visits of those he deems close enough allowed.

You can’t help but place your trust in your friend when he is always there for you, looking out for you, protecting you. This world is cruel and if you want to survive you’ll need someone to rely on, someone to guide you. You want to believe in the beauty of trusting someone, no matter how hard it is, to harden your resolve to be there for each other. Eren has clearly showed his determination for you multiple times. There is no space, no single second, for doubts even if shocking truths reveal themselves one by one, not when he is holding your hand so tightly and you fear to fall if he is no longer there to support you. Even if his ferocity scares you, there is no way he would harm you or let anything hurt you, and in a world as dangerous as this one you can’t help but cling onto that last piece of hope to survive. 

And Eren? He couldn’t be more enthusiastic when he realizes just how much you rely on him. Truly, you should give your everything to him as he does for you. You are his and he is yours, even if you don’t seem to grasp that yet.