#unless you recognize them in which case

[shepscapades]

I think I need to start putting more Red vs. Blue references in dbhc actually

[outerspace-iiinnerspace]

one thing i think about on occasion was when i was in this art class in college and i was making a painting of an astronaut and the grad assistant was going around checking on people and looking at our projects and we were talking about mine and i said something where i referred to the astronaut as a he and she went "or she" and i was like "huh?" and she talked about how the astronaut didn't have to be a man, there are women astronauts too!

and i said yeah, that's true, but this is a painting of a guy, and she said it didn't have to be because one of the things about my subject was that because you can't see the face or tell the body type you could imagine anyone in that space suit, it's universal, and that's actually really powerful and that's why she liked my painting and and i was forced to say yeah but this is a man. its buzz aldrin. and i showed her the photo of buzz aldrin that i was basing the painting on.

[staff]

A message from a few of the trans staff at Tumblr & Automattic:

We want trans people, and LGBTQ+ people broadly, to feel welcome on Tumblr, in part because we as trans people at Tumblr and Automattic want it to be a space where we ourselves feel included. We want to feel like this is a platform that supports us and fights for our safety. Tumblr is made brighter and more vibrant by your presence, and the LGBTQ+ folks who help run it are fighting all the time for this, for you, internally. 

A few days ago, Matt Mullenweg (the CEO of Automattic, Tumblr’s parent company) responded to a user’s ask about an account suspension in a way that negatively affected Tumblr’s LGBTQ+ community. We believe that Matt's response to this ask and his continued commentary has been unwarranted and harmful. Tumblr staff do not comment on moderation decisions as a matter of policy for a variety of reasons—including the privacy of those involved, and the practicalities of moderating thousands of reports a day. The downside of this policy is that it is very easy for rumors and incorrect information about actions taken by our Trust & Safety team to spread unchecked. Given this, we want to clarify a few different pieces of this situation:

The reality of predstrogen's suspension was not accurately conveyed, and made it seem like we were reaching for opportunities to ban trans feminine people on the platform. This is not the case. The example comment shared in the post linked above does not meet our definition of a realistic threat of violence, and was not the deciding factor in the account suspension.

Matt thereafter failed to recognize the harm to the community as a result of this suspension. Matt does not speak on behalf of the LGBTQ+ people who help run Tumblr or Automattic, and we were not consulted in the construction of a response to these events.

Last year, the "mature" and "sexual themes" community labels were erroneously applied to some users' posts. An outside team of contractors tasked with applying community labels to posts were responsible for this larger trend of mislabeling trans-related content. When our Trust & Safety team discovered this issue (thanks largely to reports from the community), we removed the contracted team’s ability to apply community labels and added more oversight to ensure it does not happen again. In the Staff post about this, LGBTQ+ staff pushed to be more transparent but were overruled by leadership. The termination of a contractor mentioned in the original ask response was for an unrelated incident which was incorrectly attributed to this case. We regret that the mislabeling ever happened, and the negative impact it has had on the trans community on Tumblr. 

Transition timelines are not against our community guidelines, and weren’t a factor considered by the moderation team when discussing suspensions and subsequent appeals. We do not take action against content that is related to transitioning or trans bodies unless it includes violations of the Community Guidelines.

When it comes to the experience of trans folks on Tumblr encountering transphobic content, and interacting with bigoted users, we understand and share your frustrations. Tumblr’s policies, and Automattic’s policies, are written to ensure freedom of speech and expression. We prohibit harassment as defined in our Community Guidelines, but we know that this policy falls short of protecting users from the wider scope of harmful speech often used against LGBTQ+ and other marginalized people.

Going forward, Tumblr is taking the following actions:

Prioritizing anti-harassment features that will empower users to more effectively protect themselves from harassment.

Building more internal tooling for us as Staff to proactively identify and mitigate instances of harassment.

Reviewing which of the tags frequently used by the trans community are blocked, and working to make them available next week.

We’re sorry for how this all transpired, and we’re actively fighting to make our voices heard more and prevent something like this from happening again in the future. We know firsthand that having to deal with situations like this as a Tumblr user is difficult, particularly as a member of an already frequently targeted and harassed community. We know it will take time to regain your trust, and we’re going to put in the work to rebuild it.

We appreciate the space we have been given to express our concerns and dissent, and we are thankful that Matt’s (and Automattic’s) strong commitment to freedom of expression has facilitated it.

We will continue to fight to make Tumblr safe for us all.

— This statement was authored by multiple trans employees of Tumblr and Automattic.

[unoislazy]

Jealousy Looks Good On You

Mizu x Jealous! Reader

Summary: You and Mizu have been close friends for quite some time. You truly enjoyed each others company, that was until Taigen showed up.

Disclaimers; light language, has not been proofread, I am currently delirious from packing and moving all day but I had to write this out to feed the starved mizu lovers. A fair amount may not make sense at this point in time. My apologies ❤️

————————————————————

You and Mizu have been friends for a while now. Honestly you were surprised you could even say that. Mizu was not someone who would openly accept friendship applications on a daily basis, they usually wouldn’t even talk to people unless it was absolutely necessary. But somehow, despite this, you had gotten past that wall and weaseled your way into becoming her friend.

That was how you viewed it at least, you liked to think that she at least enjoyed your company seeing as she had yet to just up and leave you randomly, which she very well could successfully do if she wanted. You two had learned a lot about each other through late night talks and just general conversations. You of course, had learned about her secret, and you vowed to keep it from anyone else that would cross your path. She in turn had learned a lot about you, things about your past, your likes and dislikes, the usual things that a companion would know.

However, there was one thing she didn’t know about you and you planned to keep it that way. You had been traveling alongside Mizu since you two had crossed paths in a town that she did not intend to stay long in.

Since then you had always admired Mizu for her skills with a sword. That admiration eventually turned to something much stronger.

You would never admit it outloud but you had developed a small crush on the blue eyed woman, and in all honesty it was pretty hard to keep it under control.

Your dynamic had just been you and her for a long time and once Ringo was added to the group it only added to your enjoyment. You loved spending time with them. You honestly found it pretty adorable how Ringo persistently followed the two of you around, just as you had once done to Mizu well before him.

However, once Taigen joined… things changed.

He was never supposed to stay this long, the only reason he did was because Mizu had saved him when escaping that stupid tower. You wanted to go with her, you pleaded with her to take you with her to at least have some back up in case something went wrong but she refused. She wouldn’t give you any other reasoning than, “I need you to stay here.”

No matter how many times you asked why, she would just give you the same answer until you listened. She didn’t want you to go along with her, she wanted to do this alone. And yet when you and Ringo had found her, was she alone?

No… of course not.

He was there with her.

You didn’t recognize him at first of course, you simply thought him to be some random man Mizu thought it was in her best interest to save. In the time you knew Mizu, that didn’t happen often.

You and Ringo had managed to get them both out of the icy water and make your way to the sword fathers house, keeping them both as warm as you possibly could while in such a state.

It wasn’t until Mizu had initially woken up did you finally find out who the man was.

“You’re awake.” You exclaimed, making your way over to a very dreary Mizu who was trying to prop herself up. You smiled, feeling a sudden wave of instant relief as she looked up at you,

“Is Taigen awake.” Were the first words to come out of her mouth.

“Taigen?” You asked, the name felt familiar but you couldn’t tell from where.

“He’s not awake yet.” Ringo answered, he was still very upset with Mizu after their last meeting and that would’ve been clear to anyone just through his tone of voice.

Taigen… Taigen… where have you heard that name?

That’s when you realized, on one of your very late night talks, Mizu had opened up to you a bit about her childhood. In the tale she told, one name continued to pop out.

Taigen.

The kid who was absolutely ruthless to her. All because of the color of her eyes. You remembered just from listening to the story, the anger you felt for Mizu, but even as she was telling the story she didn’t seem quite bothered by it. You supposed she’d have had a lot of time to think about it to the point the memories no longer brought up any emotions.

You looked away from Mizu and turned to the man who was resting quite peacefully not too far away from her. Your astonished gaze turned to a very clearly displeased glare. Never in your life would you think that you wouldn't end up coming across this man, not once, but twice. You had seen the man before, he had shown up a few other times before this, the only reason you hadn’t reacted as harshly was because you didn’t know who he was. You guessed you hadn’t recognized him this time due to the amount of bruising he sustained from his stay at the tower.

Deserved, in your opinion.

Once Mizu had woken up, she of course got right to work just as she usually did. She had no idea what the words ‘take a break’ meant. You helped her out with most of the tasks she tried to perform, but there was one she was insistent on doing alone, again.

So you sat back, preparing whatever medicine Ringo had asked for you to make as he followed around the sword father like there was no tomorrow. You sat in silence, Taigen sleeping not too far away from you, the fire still blaring keeping you both warm.

Why him of all people. Why did he have to be the one she brought back?

There was nothing you could do about him now except for hope that when he wakes up he just gets up and goes on his way.

You rolled your eyes, even thinking about the man made you mad, so you went back to your mundane task. That was until you heard the sound of what you realized to be Taigen stirring as he finally woke up.

“Great, you're awake.” You said sarcastically as you turned towards the man who had rolled over, making sure to make several groaning noises in the process. Sure he was in severe pain but literally everything he did, logical or not, annoyed you.

He didn’t even truly process who you were or why you were there, the first thing he asked was,

“Where’s Mizu?”

Seriously? Why did these two suddenly care about each other so much?

You tried your best to remain as neutral as possible as you very lowly answered, “Outside.”

You didn’t want to tell him, you didn’t even want to speak to him in the first place and You sure as hell didn’t want to leave him alone with Mizu. How could anyone trust him? Sure people change, and most of what he did to Mizu was from when they were kids… but your concern still stands. Who knows, maybe he’s still an asshole.

But in the end, it wasn’t your choice on whether he and Mizu got closer. You would protest it, and you‘d protest it hard but when it comes to it, if Mizu for some reason completely unknown to you decided he was good enough to keep around you’d have to be okay with it.

Some time had passed since they had both woken up. Mizu had gone out to try and remake her sword and Taigen had gone off to… well you didn’t really know nor did you care. You had been sitting outside on the snow covered ground, looking up at the night sky, trying to just clear your mind.

You didn’t like feeling so angry all the time, especially over someone who you personally had no reason to truly be angry at. You felt guilty, it wasn’t your place to make such decisions on who was good for Mizu and who wasn’t but you couldn't help it. It felt almost as if it was some kind of instinct, but you couldn’t really place what it was or why you felt it. All you knew was that you hadn’t felt like this before, and it frightened you. You didn’t want to be so pushy or mean to the two just because you didn’t enjoy one person's presence.

You sighed as you continued to stare up at the sky.

“What is wrong with me?” You whispered quietly to yourself.

While you were having your moment of self reflection, you noticed Taigen who had made his way back from the village carrying food. The guilt you felt seemed to double as you looked at him, so you simply looked the other way.

He walked inside the house not even sparing you a glance, he probably didn’t even know you were there. You were sitting in almost complete darkness, the only light being the glow from the fire inside and the moonlight. You enjoyed the isolating feeling it gave, it felt as if time had stopped as you stared at the bright moon above. You were completely lost in thought, zoning out as you stared at the moon. The only thing to snap you out of it was the sound of a large thud, as if something had hit the ground.

You panicked thinking that Taigen had attacked, just as you thought he would. You rushed over to the door of the house but you stopped once you noticed the position the two of them were in. They were so close to each other, and it didn’t seem like they were actually fighting with each other. You hid behind the door frame, not wanting your presence to be known as you thought about what you had just seen.

Does she actually like him? Why are they so close to each other? Is this seriously happening?

All these questions ran through your head as you backed away from the door. So badly did you want to ‘accidentally’ stumble inside and ruin the moment but then you knew you’d feel even more guilty about it. You just tried to let it go and move on with your night.

You tried.

The next day you had become incredibly standoffish. Mainly towards Mizu and Taigen which made it especially noticeable. Anytime Mizu had asked anything of you, you wouldn’t respond like normal, in fact this time you barely responded at all. Usually you seemed so happy to do anything within her company, but now it was as if you were looking right past her.

When Taigen would even attempt to talk to you, you wouldn’t even make a move to acknowledge his existence.

It was extremely petty and you knew that, but you seriously had no other way to deal with your emotions. You were trying your hardest to keep your thoughts down and just be happy for the two that you thought had some kind of chemistry but you weren’t getting far.

Later that night, you walked into the same room as Mizu. she had been sitting down drinking something from her cup, and staring off into the distance deep in thought. Once you had noticed her, you didnt give your normal greeting, you just sat down across from her and paid her no mind.

“What is your problem?” She finally asked. You simply looked at her, your face was as empty of emotion as you could make it.

“What do you mean? I don’t have a problem.” You lied, trying to not get ahead of yourself. You had so many things that were just so eager to get out, but you didn’t want to share them. You wanted to keep quiet and never mention a single one. If you never mention your problems you don’t have to feel guilty about them, right?

Mizu stared at you, astonished by your persistence with this new attitude.

“Why won't you acknowledge me?” She asked. You averted your gaze by the slightest bit, the guilty feeling coming back.

“I’m acknowledging you right now.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I don't understand your problem here, I’m the exact same.” You lied. You were trying so hard to keep everything under control.

“No you’re not. We both know that.”

“Since when were you an expert on personalities?”

Just because you were trying hard to keep your cool, doesn’t mean you were doing good at it.

“Since I’ve known you for almost a year.”

“You don’t know everything, you know.”

“Why are you acting like this?”

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask Taigen, you seem to go to him for everything anyways.” You didn’t mean to let that slip. If you could take back the words you had just said, you would’ve in an instant. You knew once you had brought up Taigen you wouldn’t be able to stop.

“What is wrong with you?” She asked, confused by your attitude towards every single thing she said. You would never act like this normally, so why now? It almost frightened her, it reminded her a bit of how the people in her past would turn on her so suddenly based on some trait about her, so she assumed the worst.

“There’s nothing wrong with me, Taigen is the problem!” You shouted, now standing up to make your point clear, which took Mizu by surprise. You had never truly gotten so angry before and especially not at her.

“What did he do? Did he do something to you?” She asked, a whole new level of possibilities jumped forward in her mind. She had let her guard down around Taigen, what if he had made a move on you and she didn’t know.

“Are you kidding? I’m not worried about me, I'm worried about you! I mean, what hasn’t he done to you. You’re telling me he was an asshole to you for the entire duration of your childhood that you spent together, and then he suddenly comes waltzing back in claiming he wants to kill you? And then you forgive him? You saved his life sure but now he wants to act all buddy buddy with you? Are you serious? You’re setting yourself up for failure here.” As you went on your ramble, Mizu had begun to relax as she realized the situation. Her eyes followed you as you paced back and forth in front of her, an amused expression creeping its way onto her face.

“Hey.” Mizu began but you could barely hear her over the sound of your own voice.

“You could’ve picked anyone else to start getting close with and I would’ve been fine with it. I mean I don’t control who you can and cannot be close with, but him? Seriously?” You continued.

“Hey.” Mizu repeated, once again trying to get your attention to no avail.

“I mean, you could do so much better. The guy who bullied you for years on end? Oh please, even I would be a better candidate than him, not that I’m saying I should be, but I could be-”

“Stop talking.” Mizu had raised her voice just enough for you to finally hear her and take the hint. You immediately stopped yourself and looked at her with a shocked expression. You had gotten so lost in your thoughts you almost forgot you were ranting to her in the first place. You watched as Mizu’s stern expression shifted to one of a more… smug nature as she stared at you, her eyes looking at you from just above the rim of her glasses so you could see the color in its entirety.

“Are you… jealous?” Mizu asked, an amused smile very evident on her face as she slightly turned to you. Your head shot towards her direction as you opened your mouth to protest but nothing came out.

She was right, you were jealous. Really jealous. You had gotten so lost in your hatred towards Taigen you had forgotten to take a step back and realize how stupid your actions looked.

“I just… don’t think he’s right for you.” You muttered, crossing your arms in defiance as you averted your gaze. You weren’t looking at her but you could tell the woman was just staring at you with a very plain look, a look that probably said something along the lines of ‘are you serious?’

“Not right for me?” She asked, placing her dish down on the ground before looking back up at you. Once she had looked back towards you she had realized you still weren't looking at her, and that wasn’t going to do.

“Look at me.” She demanded. Her tone was not harsh but she was quite stern about it. You did as she said without another question, turning your head to look at her even though you wanted to do anything else but that at the moment.

“What do you mean he’s not right for me?” She asked again, wanting a serious answer out of you.

“I saw the two of you… last night. When you were sparring. I saw how you looked at him and I just. I don’t think he’s a good choice for you.” You admitted. You felt so stupid, couldn’t you have just kept your mouth shut and moved on like an adult. Why did you have to be so petty about someone who didn’t even reciprocate your feelings? You were friends, why would you become anything more than that?

She didn’t say anything in response, she simply stared at you as she usually did, but this time her staring made you feel so small. You already felt guilty about feeling this way and now that you had actually said it out loud to Mizu’s face and all she was doing was staring, it made the feeling unbearable. You wanted to cry, but you wouldn't dare to, not now. To risk looking even more childish than you do already? You’d rather die.

“Then who do you think would be a better choice?” She inquired, earning nothing more than a shrug from you. You had said what you needed and you feared if you said anything more you would dig yourself into a deeper hole. “Come on, you don’t have anyone in mind?”

She was teasing you.

She wasn’t mad?

Why was she playing into this, why wasn’t she upset with you placing your own opinions on her feelings.

“I don’t know… literally anyone else?” You responded quietly, not really wanting to answer the question.

“What, like you?” She retorted with a playful scoff.

“I didn’t say that.” You denied, quite defensively one might add.

“Yes you did.” She corrected.

“You heard me wrong.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“I heard you wrong.” She repeated, confirming the fact that you were actually trying to play that card.

You nodded.

“So you didn’t say, ‘even I would be a better candidate than him’.”

Well, she got you there, Those were in fact the words you said. You were in too deep to go back now so you committed to your sense of denial full force.

“Where are you getting these words from?” You tried to play dumb, obviously it wasn’t going to work.

“Don’t try to lie to me, I heard you say them.”

“I wasn’t saying that I would be the only candidate, I was just using myself as an example. I’m not saying that you’d have to pick me over him I’m just saying that in the grand scheme of things I just-” You had begun to ramble yet again. You couldn't stop yourself, you felt like everything you wanted to say needed a further explanation to make it not sound as bad as it did. Luckily, this rant was cut very short.

“Hey.” Mizu said, very quickly getting you to shut up unlike the last few times. This time however, she was much closer than she was before. Much, much, closer. You hadn’t noticed that throughout the entire duration of your little banter match, she had slowly made her way towards you and you had absentmindedly been backing away from her. Well, that was until you couldn’t back up any more. Now she was standing no more than a few mere inches away from you, her hands had managed to slither their way onto your waist, holding you in place.

“What…” You whispered. You didn’t know what else to do with yourself, you felt as if you could melt into a puddle right then and there as you stared into her eyes. Her eyes however, had not stayed focused on yours, and instead began to travel around to other areas of your face. You had never really seen this side of her. There would be no reason to really, unless she truly felt the same way.

There wouldn’t be any logic behind Mizu just messing with you to mess with you, she only ever really put up fronts for people she needed information from, and the only information you had was how much you wanted her in that exact moment. You would never say that outloud though.

“Stop talking.” She whispered back, her eyes almost entirely focused on your lips as she very slowly neared you. You couldn’t hold yourself back, moving yourself forward and making the move to seal the kiss yourself.

Words wouldn’t be able to accurately describe how you felt in that moment. Neither of you truly expected it, but the kiss had become a lot more heated way faster than you truly expected. Turns out you both had buried feelings that were going to be known one way or another. Your hands had made their way to Mizu’s hair and her hands had begun to travel away from your waist. Once you had eventually parted from the kiss, you both looked almost surprised that any of that truly happened.

Mizu laughed a bit to herself as she looked at you.

“You know, Jealousy looks good on you.” she said before you rolled your eyes,

“Stop talking.” Was all you said before continuing where you left off.

[cursedcola]

Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore(Here!), Ignihyde, Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. Note: May have overdone it. Also, I'm a bit rough with my french. It's been 2 years, go easy on me.

There is a word for this young man. A term that has always been a one-way thing in his past. A noun that he has experience being the target of, and not the one it is describing.

Whipped. Oh, dear heavens, Vil is whipped for you. The thought both entices him and sends a shiver of distaste down his spine. Why? Because, my dove, in recognizing that he is whipped he is also acknowledging that he is dependent. Reliant. No longer the boss a** queen who needs nobody other than himself. The man the world knows him to be but this schoolboy crush has progressed to borderline infatuation.

Let us do a little synopsis of this downfall. A summary, if you will. An exploration of this Schoenheit's thought process as his prospective future melded from being Twisted Wonderland's resident supernova, to a domestic fantasy that would make his past self vomit.

It all began with a little birdy falling into a nest of snakes. Lost, alone, scared, weak - they slowly melted the hearts of everyone they came in contact with. Vil watched from the sidelines in interest. Not enough to investigate because *why* would he place his time in the hands of prey. It would be an utter waste.

Albeit so...Vil recognizes potential when he sees it. Not unlike himself, they took the hand they were dealt and carved a path to the top. He could respect that ... until there was a collision that threatened his own plans. Suddenly their oddities were no longer amusing and instead a hindrance. Like rain. Nice at the start, but the muddy aftermath never pleases.

And muddy his life became indeed. He became the villain he always disliked. Wretched and old. Completed his self-fulfilling prophecy...and somehow lost it all, yet gained something new in such a short span of time. He was no hero in the story, had no life-changing epiphany, yet somehow it felt different. For a brief moment, he was the fairest of them all to that little birdy. Despite his venom and scales, he was the fairest.

It dawns him that they both are not as alike as he once thought. He was playing a game of chess against someone playing checkers.

The oddity turned hindrance now became an object of interest. He started to watch them again and to approach as well. He wanted to bloom the potential he saw in them. Letting it go to waste would be neglectful on his part, so he would shelter them during their time in this den.

Or so he told himself.

While they could never make it to his level...the little birdy was morphing into a beautiful dove right before his very eyes. All without his help or a need for change. He never felt so desperate to be needed by someone else.

The object of interest becomes an object of affection. He doesn't want to recommend new potions, fashion, workouts, skincare routines - he wants to do them with you. He wants to sit in a rosewater bath together and talk about the day. He wants to be chided for wearing a sleepmask, blocking your view of his eyes at night. He wants to go on a morning jog together and share breakfast. To have you on his arm as he walks the carpet at premiers - brighter than any other accessory his stylist could choose. He wants to kiss your pulse points and smell his perfume on your skin. He wants to share clothes and give the press something to gossip about. He wants to love this little birdy who has always been a dove.

And he gets this fantasy. He has it for years but there is always an underlying gnaw beneath his skin that it is going to end - which he is prepared for initially. He does not do anything half-effort and dating you is not taken lightly - but he is prepared until he does not want to be. Until the possibility of splitting up is unfathomable and he can't imagine not having all the little moments that now he has become so...

Reliant. Whipped.

He initially wants you to propose to him, and hints at it frequently. How glorious would he look dressed in white, no? Which do you like better, black forest cake or almond chip? Oh dear...these tulips would make such a lovely Boquete for a bride...

You are either too dense to understand his hints (unlikely, considering you have years of practice) or he needs to take initiative. Well, if it is a proposal you want then it is a proposal you will get.

He stages it under the guise that he needs a partner for a photoshoot. Specifically for a wedding magazine. You, thinking this is another one of his blatant hints, comply to his pleasure. He calls in a contact from one of the magazines he has modeled for before and asks if they would like an inclusive - never before seen- scoop. Aka. to photograph his proposal and feature it on their front cover. With his reputation, the offer is accepted readily and they agree to set up the shoot with whatever theme he wishes. He goes traditional - set in a gothic chapel that is decorated with red and purple floral adornments. The works for a proposal with a dark vintage twist.

That morning, he leaves before you to handle a separate modeling gig. With a kiss to your wrist, he is gone and off to make sure that everything is perfect for when you arrive later on. Photographers know him for his tenacity, but none have ever seen Vil so anal over small details. Every ribbon must be perfect, there must be both black AND white rose petals spread along the walkway. You must be photographed in rose-tinted lighting, so the camera should face towards the biggest piece of stained glass.

When you arrive, you are escorted to hair and makeup in a whirl. The scene is a blur and you're decked head to toe in white. Gothic lace as far as the eye can see...and when you are finally allowed to enter the chapel, Vil stands haloed by his arranged decorations - waiting for you to join him.

"Stunning, my dear. You look absolutely stunning. A sight I will have etched in my thoughts for many nights to come..." he takes your hand, and signals for the cameramen to get ready. They instruct you both to pose as a couple taking their vows. The camera clicks once, and then Vil gets down on one knee.

You think it's part of the act and that he is improvising. Well, until he pulls out a ring from his breast pocket. One that is a sharp contrast from the dark atmosphere and obviously not a prop.

"Alas, my patience runs dry. I can no longer wait for you..." he begins, and takes your hand in his. Another click echoes in the room, "with this ring, I make you mine. There will be no escape. No lies or uncertainties. I am already yours. I have been for many, many years. Will you finally join me in matrimony?"

{Black Opal. Staring into the gem puts any viewer in a trance. It sucks them in with bright swirls - hypnotizing. It is so beautiful with its intricate pattern, yet at a distance it appears solely black. We often narrow complex things down to one-note interpretations. Do with this information what you will}

Our man of mystery likes to keep things fresh. He loves the thrill of the chase. The anticipation. The adrenaline.

There is no better game of cat and mouse in life than romance. At every stage there are twists and turns that one can never predict. Each day brings new surprises and events! At least, that is what Rook believes a relationship should entail. No partnership should ever feel the lull of comfort...no-no. There must always be a little spice and sweetness around every corner to keep the relationship alive.

At your side, Rook does not doubt his beliefs for a second. You are like a magnet for attention and rightfully so. Out of all the people he finds interesting...you are the most tantalizing to observe. He finds himself following your every movement early on. Long before you began to enter his personal bubble, you were rare prey for the hunt. Otherworldly, full of secrets, attentive, attractive, enticing - he had his mark set so firm that he would have watched you even without Vil's order.

Nothing is missed under his fond scrutiny. Rook is the first to notice small things, like if you trimmed your hair or sewed new buttons on your blazer. He has your walking pace memorized to match when he is at your side. He knows your favorite meals in the dining hall, your habitual seat in the library, how to read your body language, what your favorite treats are and when you like to have them - his knowledge is so extensive that it's up to you if it is considered sweet or creepy. Rook's affections are often teetering the line with infatuation; however, he is not controlling or weird about it. He simply is a romantic who feels the need to know the ins and outs of the person he will give his heart to.

If that includes protecting you from ill-mannered heathens and appearing out of thin air to catch you if you trip? Well, best not question where he comes from. Just know that you have a second shadow. He will only become worse when his affections are returned. You may feel the need to set ground rules for how he can behave in public. Loud declarations of compliment and suggestive topics will not be reigned in otherwise. He is a lover and a fighter. Remember that.

There will come a day that Rook feels you are ready to marry him. Yes, specifically you. He was ready very early on, likely because pining for so long (while exciting) was a chase that gave him plenty of time to learn what he wants. Any time spent waiting was merely for your sake. Only when he notes your fondness towards the idea of marriage does he create a series of tests to ensure your desires. Things like leaving a wedding magazine on the counter to see your reaction, and taking you for a romantic boat ride that just so happens to be a hotspot for couples on their honeymoon. He also mentions the topic in his flirtations more often, to see if you'll respond in kind or shy away. He is a thorough man, if anything.

Oddly enough, he takes a reserved approach for proposing. He uses poetry, which is not unlike him considering how he loves to speak with flourishes. In his heart Rook would love to set up an elaborate event to propose. Something exciting, like a train mystery or a scavenger hunt. Yet some things do not need to be active to be thrilling. Marriage is a delicate act, so it is with a delicate hand that he pens a book of poetry over the course of nineteen days. On each day, he writes one poem to describe one reason he wants to marry you. The first letter in the title of each poem corresponds to a hidden message that you will have to decipher. He does not tell you either of these things.

He hands the book off to you with a cunning grin, and says that it is up to you to find the hidden meaning. If you can, then he will give you a 'special prize'. If you ask the occasion, he offers one of his closed-eye grins and claps his hands. 'Because why not?' He'll say, and it's enough to pacify because it is such a Rook way of thinking that you don't question it.

No matter how long it takes, he waits. He'll watch you analyze each poem and pout for an answer - one he refuses to give. It's all in the chase, after all. He can be patient. All good things come to those who wait.

One cold afternoon, he finds you curled up on the couch in your shared home. A blanket around your shoulders, a hot drink, and the book nestled in your lap. Nothing out of the usual...aside from the pen in your hand hovering over a notebook. Silent as a mouse, he hovers over your shoulder to take a peek and smirks at what has you so miffed.

"Ah...I take it you have words for me, mon coeur. Are they perhaps about a certain mystery?" You jump, and slam the notebook shut before turning around. His eyes crinkle in delight at the sight - his well waited prize. The flush of your cheeks suggest you solved the puzzle and the sweat on your brow shows that you know he knows. Rook rounds about the couch in an instant and crouches on his knees in front of you. He takes your notebook, opens it, and displays the words 'Will You Marry Me?' for you. "Is this your answer? Are you confident?" You nod, avoiding his eyes and he grabs your chin to face him. With a hum of approval, he tips off his hat to pull out a wooden box. In the box is a ring, and he effortlessly slips it onto your finger without asking permission. "Mon moitié...mon trésor. Je te chérirai. Je t'aimerai. Je ne te laisserai jamais partir. Avec cette bague, je suis à toi jusqu'à ce que la mort nous sépare…"

{A large pearl, nested between two emeralds, and a pure gold band. In Rook's eyes, the ring should compliment the wearer. It is the accent piece to your beauty. It should be comfortable, so you never have reason to remove it. In addition to this, it should also serve as a reminder that he is always looking for you. The pearl represents his untainted affection, and the two emeralds are his all-seeing eyes. He hopes this ring brings feelings of comfort and safety}

He is beauty, he is grace, he will punch you in the face - unless you're the object of his affections. Then you get a get out of jail free card. One use. Reinstated every time his heart skips a beat.

Our young lad is a bit of an unpredictable case when it comes to his emotions. Growing up in a small town like Harveston, there was no one his age to spend time with. NRC became his first exposure to people his age, and that made you his first love by default. He wasn't looking for it, didn't have any way to identify it, and frankly he disliked the emotions at first for various reasons. There is a lot to unpack here.

As everyone knows, Epel has a feminine appearance. The exact opposite of how he feels inside. The frilly clothes his dorm makes him wear do nothing to fix that - and now there is this tingling feeling in his chest that takes away his thought process? No. Just no. Not welcome at all. He needs his wits to make up for his unassuming appearance, and he ain't going to have some stranger twisting that about just because they're a bit attractive. Every apple tastes sweet until you try another kind - he says to himself.

He lets it fester for some time and actively avoids you. He sees the hurt in your eyes at his offput demeanor, but can't do much about it. It's your fault if you want to put yourself out there when everyone knows he's not the biggest talker.

Unfortunately...you stick around. Being in his academic year means that most of your classes align, and eventually your friend group does as well. There is no getting around you, and it doesn't take long for other people to connect the dots. Any chance at him getting a tougher reputation were ruined before they even began.

Eventually his resilience runs out and he gives in. Except now we have reason two - he has no chance with you. Zip. Nada. How Lovely.

Why the h*ll would ya go for this country bumpkin with the social skills of a rock? You'd be crazy to an' he ain't going to put himself out for heartbreak.

Now he's stuck humming love tunes and making carved apples of your face because he has years of pining built up with no outlet. It's pitiable, which makes him seethe because he can't do nothin' about it. Rook teased him once after finding Epel making yet another carving while laying in bed, and barely missed getting an apple to the head. The splattered remains of his fruit art on the wall spoke more than any threat could.

Point being, he is emotionally stunted and so he does not ever confess. Not until you do, that is. In that moment all class flew out of his body and he reverted to the socially challenged boy he was before enrolling at NRC. An extremely rare sight for anyone to see...he cringes thinking back on it. When you first said your feelings, he thought you were pulling a prank and got pissed. When he processed that you were serious, Epel lost control of himself and just blurted his thoughts out like a child.

Which is why his proposal is going to be different. It *has* to be different. This time, he'll be the one to ask you and he'll be prepared to avoid any mess ups. He refuses to be one-upped for such an important moment. This time you will be the flustered mess, and he will be the collected one.

To do this, he chooses to propose back in Harveston where he is most in his element. You'll both stay with his family on a weekend vacation in autumn, which meant there would be plenty of open land to arrange for something nice. Not to mention nice scenery from all the fallen leaves and orchards being in bloom. After a long talk with his family, he'd arrange to take you on a day tour of the land on horseback. Basically flaunt all of his farmboy knowledge for a confidence boost, and at the end of the night he'd light a campfire. With some warm cider, the noises of the night, and calm warmth of the hearth - he'd propose. It was almost perfect. *Almost*.

A simple ring feels too disconnected for Epel, and anything extravagant is too expensive considering the family farm's financial state. So, he decides to make it extra special by carving the ring box himself. Wood isn't that much different than apples...

On the first night he decides to work on some finishing touches after you've gone to sleep, and sits on the front porch to widdle away at the design. Like he does when carving apples, he hums a tune into the night as he focuses. Thoughts of the next day making him a bit louder and more excitable than usual - which, unfortunately wakes you up.

The front door opens and he pays it no heed, thinking it's one of his parents coming out for some fresh air. When you plop down next to him and look at the box - well, to say the earth shattered would be an understatement.

"Why aren't you sleepin'?!" His heart hammers and he tries to hide the box under one of his legs. The reaction being too late, since you already got a good look at it. You quirk an eyebrow at his haste, and a mischievous glint twists in your eye. Without warning, you fight him to see what's behind his back. 'What'cha got there Epel~ Why you so embarased huhu~' you tease and his ears flush a deep red. "It's nothin'! Mind your own buisness" 'Well clearly it's something' "I said it's not for you! Get your hands off me," 'Oh? I thought you liked my hands on you~ It looked like a ring box though. Who're you giving a ring to, huh?' "Dangit maybe you'd find out if ya stopped ruining your own surprises!" In his last attempt to avoid your teasing, he tries to yank away but drops the box. It hits the porch with a thud and the lid pops open to show an engagement ring. "...ah sh*t," he swears and hastily crouches to pick it up. You don't tear your eyes away from it, neither from the carvings or how your name is etched in perfect cursive on the lid. Still on his knee, Epel checks the ring for damage before noticing your shocked stupor. He looks at the box again, and signs through his nose before turning towards you. "I had a whole day planned, y'hear me?! For once, I wanted ta be the one surprisin' you...but seein' how you're all tight lipped now, guess I did a good, huh? So? What'dya say? Will you marry me?"

{Crafted using the common hardwood from one of the many apple trees on the family farm. On the outside, there is a carving of a tree taking roots to symbolize the start of a new life. Definitely not because he was surrounded by trees while working on it, and decided to use them for inspiration. When the box is open, the top lid has your names carved along with the date. Well, the date of his *intended* proposal. That will need to be altered. Inside is a simple rose-gold band with small diamonds. Despite the ring's simplicity, he hopes his efforts to make you feel special are not in vain}

NOTE: Translation for Rook: "I will cherish you. I will love you. I'll never let you go. With this ring, I'm yours till death do us part"

[elvinye]

already inflicted this on the discord server and decided to make everyone suffer here too

assigning silmarillion elves bad driving habits

feanor: speeds, unless you tailgate, in which case he will slow down until you back off. if he has to stop in the middle of the high way, that's your fault for entering a battle of wills with feanor

fingolfin: tailgates

finarfin: does 5 below the speed limit in the outside lane

maedhros: chronic backseat driver

fingon: incapable of using turn signal unless he has explicitly been reminded by maedhros in the past 15 minutes

maglor: plays music so loudly he cannot hear sirens if an emergency vehicle needs to pass

celegorm: explicitly ignores those special speed limits around schools (either they learn or they die)

curufin: has modified the shit out of his car so the engines are super loud because he thinks it makes him look cool

caranthir: knows the location of every speed and red light camera in tirion. abuses this knowledge.

celebrimbor: on his phone

nerdanel: thinks stop signs are a suggestion (see also: red flags)

finrod: incapable of recognizing when he is too drunk to drive. very insistent he gives his drunk friends a drive home because they're to drunk to drive and he wants them to be SAFE

turgon: tells everyone to get an electric car while not actually having one himself

[dulcesiabits]

how to let you go.

summary: in every life, casper is sent to take your soul as punishment.

notes: 2.4k words, author's notes, angst, casper calls reader beautiful if anyone doesn't like that descriptive term

You were still as beautiful as the day Casper lost you.

This was his punishment, born for centuries. It was also his salvation, to see you again, as radiant as life itself, your mouth crinkling into a smile, and your easy, effortless movements. To you, this was just another day, where you were young and careless and so sure of your own life, as if not even jealous death could steal you away. 

Before Casper had undergone his mission, his coworkers had asked if he would be able to recognize you. Their eyes crinkled in that familiar gesture of pity, apprehension, and slight condescension, as they had looked at him for the past hundreds of years since his initial sin.

“Even if their soul is the same, they’re going to look different. They won’t even remember you,” one had said. “They might not even love you again. What’s the point?”

“I still love them,” he said shortly, standing abruptly. “And their soul is mine to take. That’s the point.”

His coworkers had shook their heads. A hopeless case, they called him. “He used to be the best, and look what happened. He went and fell for his own target.”

Let them talk. The gossip had never abated no matter how many years passed. No one would understand, and he didn’t need them to.

Now, Casper watched you walk below from his perch on a nearby roof. You were so beautiful. Where were you off to? Perhaps to see a friend. Or back off to your apartment. There was a drink in your hand, which made his mission that much easier if he had an excuse to talk to you. He absorbed the sight of you for only a few seconds more. Time to start.

He leapt down softly, just a few paces in front of you, and unveiled his glamor. With no room to maneuver around him, you bumped into him, your drink sloshing onto his shirt. Tea soaked into his clothes, and you stumbled backwards– though he grabbed your arm before you could fall.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry,” you said. “Are you okay? I should have been more careful.”

“I’m fine,” he said. “It’s not like I got burnt.”

“Let me make it up to you. I think there’s a laundromat nearby– uh, how much did your shirt cost? I think stains don’t show that much on black fabric, but I could pay if you needed me to.” 

“Are you sure you could afford it?” he said, eyebrows raising.

You chuckled nervously. “Well… maybe not… Still! I’d like to make it up to you! Here, let me give you my number.” You fished a pen out from your bag, but groaned. “Shit, I don’t have any paper in here.”

“Just write it on my hand,” he said, holding out his hand, palm out.

“Okay. Okay, let me do it.” You pressed the pen lightly to his skin, scribbling your number on his palm. “I live close by, so if you ever want to meet up to talk about this some more…”

“So do I,” Casper said. “In fact, I live in that building over there.” He pointed to a squat apartment building on the block, and your eyes widened.

“No way! I live there, too. We’re neighbors,” you said admiringly. “What a coincidence.”

Casper smiled, as if he hadn’t arranged to live in your building himself. “I suppose so.”

You nodded. “It’s like fate. Like we were meant to meet, or something.” You flushed. “Oh, I’m not trying to hit on you or anything– unless, you’d like that? Ah– Sorry. I literally just knocked my drink all over you.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” he murmured, his own ears turning pink. “If it was from you.”

“How flirtatious,” you said, fanning yourself with your hand. Cute.

“I’m not normally this forward with strangers. Maybe it’s just you,” he said.

You wiggled your eyebrows. “So I’m special? That’s really nice to hear. You know how to charm a person.”

Ah, here it was again: your smile. Your laughter. Your teasing. This was what his coworkers didn’t understand; Casper would have plunged into despair, again and again, if only for your touch to lift him right back out of it.

—

The next few weeks passed in a haze of happiness. This was his respite: the moments between meeting you and taking your soul, when he could just bask in your warmth like the sun. After the initial meeting, you opened up to him like a flower. Though he had to initiate the first few meetings, after a while, it was you who badgered him constantly to come over to watch a new show, or just to have dinner together.

“This is like, weird, but sometimes I feel like I’ve known you for a long time,” you confided in him once. “I know we didn’t even meet that long ago, but you feel familiar to me. Is that crazy to say?”

“I think you’re just hitting on me,” he accused. “Just say you were captivated by my endless charm.”

“Charm?” you scoffed, batting a pillow at him. “What charm? You’re so full of yourself.”

“You’re into it,” he said.

You stuck your tongue out at him. “You wish. I just put up with you so I can hang out with Azrael!” To emphasize your point, you picked up his plushie, hugging him tight to your chest.

“Hey! Azrael is mine,” he complained, and you burst into laughter as he tried to gently tug the plushie out of your grip.

For a beautiful few weeks, he could exist by your side, like an ordinary mortal man would do for the one he loved. Casper drank in your smile, the easy way the two of you fell into routine. He had done this a thousand times, and each time, it was as effortless as two puzzle pieces slotting in together. The only place he truly belonged was by your side, and each time, though your body didn’t remember, your soul did. 

��Casper!” He heard you before he saw you. You ran and tackled him in a hug, arms wrapping his waist. He staggered under your weight, before effortlessly wrapping his arms around you and righting himself. His heart pounded under the proximity of your warmth and nearness.

“You almost killed me,” he said.

“You survived!” 

“What’s with the rush?” he asked, raising a hand to stroke circles on your back. You were in the apartment hallway, and he lowered his voice in case someone could hear.

“Eh… I can’t just hug you because I like you?”

“There’s always another motive with you,” he said.

“Well…” you pulled back, batting your eyelashes at him mischievously. “I can’t just miss you?”

“Ah, now we’re talking sense. You just couldn’t stay away from me.”

Your eyes turned serious. “Well, what if I couldn’t? What if I liked being by your side?”

His hands stilled. Your gaze stirred a storm in his heart. As it had before, and as it would in the future. “Then I would say that… I wouldn’t dislike that.”

“You should just be honest and say that you like spending time with me,” you teased.

He let out a little sigh, heat rising to his face. “Maybe I do.”

What was he to do? Was there any way to prolong this moment, to stretch it into infinity, so he could hold you for the rest of time?

—

Like any dream, his time with you had to come to an end. And like with every dream, Casper had to shatter it to pieces with his own hands.

On a starlit night, after you had convinced him to sneak onto the roof with you (“It’s easy! They leave the rooftop door unlatched!”), your face remained immobile in the darkness as he confessed his sins to you. 

“I was sent to take your soul,” he explained calmly. “I’ve always been sent to kill you, to reap your soul, in every life. It’s my punishment, you could say.”

Your lips parted, unbelieving. “Punishment? For what?”

“For loving you,” he said. “And for you returning my affections.”

“That’s not fair.”

“There’s no fairness in life. The only fairness is in death.”

In the darkness, he can’t make out your expression, but the light reflects in your eyes like miniature suns.

“So you’ve had to kill me, just because we fell in love? That’s not okay,” you protested. “How… how many times have you and I…?”

Casper looked up at the sky, as if the stars could tell him the answer. They only winked down coldly at him. “I’ve lost count. It’s been hundreds of years.”

“Hundreds...” you said. “And you… you say you’ve loved me all that time? Why? I mean, I can’t be the same person as you first fell for. Why would you do all of this for me?”

“Because it’s you,” he said simply. “I’ll always fall in love with you, even if I try to stay away. In every life, in every time, I’ll make that decision.”

“You must have been lonely,” you said. You hugged him, pulling him into your arms. You felt like a lighthouse, mooring him in the dark waters of the night.

“Aren’t you mad at me? I just confessed to killing you in every life.”

“I don’t know,” you said honestly. “I’m just thinking that this sucks. This sucks so fucking much, but I… I’ve always felt like I’ve known you, ever since we met. I guess that feeling makes a lot more sense now.” You took a breath, as if you were steeling yourself. “And, you know what, this is crazy, but I think something in me has always been waiting for you. It’s like something just clicked when you showed up. But even if it wasn’t for our freaky soul connection, I chose this, you know?” You ran a hand lovingly through his hair, delicately kissing a strand. “I chose to love you.”

“Then what do you want to do?” he whispered. Here it was again, the choice he offered you in every life.

“Let’s run away,” you said resolutely. “Let’s run away for as long as we can. I want to stay with you. I mean, you’ve been waiting for me forever, right? Then we have to make the most of this time.”

And there it was, the answer that never wavered, no matter how many times he asked you this question. Your answer glittered like a precious gem which Casper held reverentially. No matter who you became, or what happened, your soul remained the same. You always chose him.

“You’ll still die in the end,” he warned. “No one lives forever. They will send people after us.”

“Then let them. I mean…” you pulled the lapels of his jacket, so you could stare into his eyes. “You know what, Casper? Being loved so much by death is kinda romantic. Besides, if I’m gonna die anyways, I might as well enjoy myself. If someone has to take my soul, then I want it to be you, okay? No one else.”

“Okay,” he breathed, and then you kissed him, and it felt like a thousand galaxies bursting to life in his heart. Overhead, a star streaked across the sky like a tear.

Casper already knew how your story would end. It would end as it had done a thousand times before, with the two of you being caught, upon which he would be forced to take your soul yet again. But in this endlessly repeating cycle, all that truly mattered was this moment: your lips on his, and a kiss that burned brighter than the sun.

—

In the first life, in your final moments, you had looked at him so tenderly, even though he had been the one who doomed you. You, who had been loved by death, had paid the price for it.

“I’m going to curse you,” you whispered. You held his hands in a way he had never deserved, clutching them close to you like a lifeline.

“Sunshine…” he said. You were the ones clinging on to his hands, but he was the one who tightened his grip, because this was the only road that led to you. Tears fell, against his will, splattering onto your face. 

“My cute little reaper…” you said weakly. “You’re not allowed to forget me, do you understand? No matter who else you kill. No matter who you met. Even if you fall in love again. You have to remember me. Carry me with you everywhere, do you understand?”

“Why are you saying this to me?” Casper whispered. His voice shook, as fragile as a spring bud which had sprouted during the winter, with no protection from the frost. A sprout, always reaching for the sky above, even as its roots numbed and its leaves blackened, because what else was there to do, but long for what one couldn’t have?

You smiled like the sun, even when your life was draining out of you. “Because I’m cursing you, silly. If you kill me now, then I’m going to haunt you for the rest of your life. You’re mine.”

You let out a strangled breath, and it was time for you to go. Casper tugged the last of your soul out of your body. There was a slight resistance, as if your soul was still clinging to its home, before like strings snapping, your soul slipped pliantly into his hands. You jerked, eyes shuttering closed, your mouth slack, like an empty house with no one to warm its halls any longer.

Still, Casper tugged your body closer to him, arms wrapping around you, as if his cold skin could somehow prevent your skin from cooling. As if, with enough force, he could tether you to him again.

“I’m yours,” he whispered, even as your head lolled back. “I’m yours, Sunshine. I promise. So haunt me. Don’t let me forget you. Curse me, again and again. You’re so selfish. So, so selfish.” His hands trembled, and he placed a feather light kiss on your lips. “You’ve claimed me, so you better make good on your words. You– you have to come back. No matter what.”

A kiss, then another. He would be punished. He knew this. You would be punished, too. But no matter if a hundred years passed, or a thousand, Casper would never forget you. Even if your bones turned to dust. Even if your name was lost to history. Even if no one remembered that you existed, and the earth forgot the touch of your steps, he would love you. He would love you, and chase you to the ends of eternity. 

For he was death, and you were his mortal, and this was how death loved best.

[hardboiledleggs]

Hawkins High Prom, 1985

Howdy gang, it's been a minute. This is a quick little oneshot I whipped up for the lovely @imnotokayhru based on this post of theirs. TW for a tiny bit of internalized homophobia and bad teenage dancing lol

The Munson Doctrine does not allow for attending high school prom, especially without a date. Jeff had just begged so hard, and Eddie Munson was, at his core, a weak man. Secretly, he’d been hoping to see what prom was like, and it turned out that it sucked hard. So now he was here, surrounded by crepe paper and sweaty teenagers, and listening to Cyndi Lauper and Blondie.

Jeff’s date, a quiet girl from his biology class, had dragged him onto the dance floor almost an hour ago. Gareth had been too young to go to prom, and Grant had flat-out refused, so now Eddie was stuck here by himself watching the teenage population of Hawkins try to moonwalk. Hello, therapy.

A third glare from the chaperoning Mrs. Click forced Eddie to move from his hiding place near the wrestling mat. He had been slowly revolving around the room, doing his best to keep away from Higgins, but apparently his tactic of standing completely still and looking bored was suspicious to the teachers for some reason.

Just then, Mr. Mundy abandoned his post by the door to the boys’ locker room, yelling “Hands, Hagan! Let me see your hands!” as he went.

Spotting his chance, Eddie dodged a decidedly drunk Tammy Thompson and hurried into the locker room. He breathed out a sigh of relief as the door shut behind him and muffled the DJ.

He checked his watch. Still too early for the damn thing to be over. He debated trying to escape through the vents briefly before realizing that he wouldn’t know which direction to crawl in and might die up there. It would be really funny if his corpse fell out of the ceiling during O’Donnell’s class, though.

Eddie gazed at the lockers for another moment before inspiration struck. Hadn’t he sold to all these asshole jocks one hundred times? Surely, at least one of them kept their stash in their gym locker.

He hurried over to the first locker and pinched his nose, anticipating the smell of sweaty jock straps and unwashed ass to assault him. His senses were pleasantly surprised when the locker betrayed only a faint floral scent that vaguely reminded him of his mom.

Eddie rifled through the contents. Extra socks, a basketball uniform, and a pair of Adidas sat at the bottom. The top shelf had deodorant, hair gel, a tin of moisturizer, and a can of Farrah Fawcett hair spray. Eddie snorted. No weed, just the sports paraphernalia of a very fussy member of the basketball team.

“Uh, hey. That’s my locker you’re stealing from.”

Eddie swore loudly and straightened up, smacking his head against the shelf of the locker. Tears sprang to his eyes and he staggered backward, clutching the top of his head. His would-be thievery victim started to apologize, and that was when Eddie looked up and recognized the very famous head of hair.

“Is it still stealing if I was doing my civic duty and just planning on removing any illegal substances I found during my snooping?” Eddie muttered as he rubbed the spot where a bruise was already forming.

“Unless you became a cop and didn’t tell anyone, I’m pretty sure theft is still theft,” Harrington snorted.

“I’m no pig, Steve-O. Just a guy looking for weed.”

“In that case, let’s try Hagan’s locker,” Harrington said as he crossed to the other side of the locker room. He let out a little “Aha!” of triumph and tossed a bag across the room that Eddie caught with one hand.

He slumped down with his back against Harrington’s locker and stuck his feet out in front of him, trying to ignore the way the tiles looked. Harrington crossed the room, hesitating for only a second before he flopped down next to Eddie, not quite touching, but sitting close enough that it would be easy to pass the joint Eddie was carefully rolling between the two of them.

“I’m assuming you’re planning on sharing?” Harrington quirked an eyebrow at him. He didn’t seem to notice that his very nice black suit was in contact with the biohazard that was the Hawkins High boys’ locker room floor.

“Of course, my liege. I always share the spoils of war with my fellow countrymen,” Eddie quipped. He passed the joint to Steve for the first hit, digging in his pocket for his lighter.

His companion took a deep breath, letting the smoke sit in his lungs before breathing out and passing the joint to Eddie. Eddie tried not to notice the way the wisps of smoke curled from between his lips and took a drag.

“Would’ve thought you would have your own weed for this thing, Munson. Isn’t this kinda your territory?”

Eddie scoffed. “I may be repeating my senior year but I’m not an idiot. Higgins would lose his mind if he caught me dealing at prom.”

Steve threw his head back and laughed. His already-nice face was so much nicer when he laughed. It made him look younger, much less like the haggard boy who sometimes showed up to their shared history class with dark circles under his eyes.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, swapping the joint back and forth. Eddie picked at a hole in the leg of the dress pants Wayne had lent him, wondering why Harrington was being so nice to him and if he could push his luck.

“So, Farrah Fawcett, huh?” he said with a wry grin. Steve’s cheeks flamed with color.

“Hey, I’m swearing you to secrecy here. All of this-” he gestured at his ridiculous poofy hair, “-is only achieved with a very specific routine, okay? This stuff is the real deal.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” Eddie grinned. “Speaking of secrets, why are you hiding in the locker room when you should be out there, in your element?”

Steve frowned. He actually looked uncomfortable.

“Well, my date started dancing with Hargrove when I went to piss, so…” he trailed off. “Guess I figured I’d wait out the dance in here while she had fun. This really isn’t my element anymore, anyway.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows. “How did you pick a girl stupid enough to ditch you, Harrington? Did you ask your cousin or something?”

Steve pressed his lips together, suppressing a smile.

“No, jackass. I think she just thought it would make her look cooler to come with a date and I was available. Whatever, it’s fine, I didn’t even like her that much. She wore this ridiculous dress that pushes her boobs together so hard it looks like they’re going to pop out.”

Eddie cackled at that. He could already feel the contented stupor from the weed seeping into his system.

“If it makes you feel better, I came alone. Or, I guess I came as the third wheel who can’t dance so he got left by the snack table,” he shrugged.

Steve glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

“What do you mean, you can’t dance?” he asked. “Everyone can dance. You just have to sway around in a circle with your arms around somebody. Have you never slow-danced at a school dance before?”

Eddie shook his head. “C’mon, Harrington. Nobody wants to dance with the freak.”

Steve slapped his knee and stood up abruptly. He held his hand out to Eddie, who stared up at him from the ground.

“Would you like to dance with me?”

Eddie gaped up at him. Harrington actually looked nervous.

“Be serious. You don’t want to dance with me. What, is Hagan hiding in the showers, ready to punch me for agreeing to this like some queer?” Eddie snapped.

Steve’s face fell a bit, but he still grabbed Eddie’s hand and hauled him to his feet.

“I’m not even friends with Tommy Hagan anymore, Munson. Come on, I like this song.”

The intro to George Michael’s Careless Whisper filters through the door to the locker room. Eddie hesitantly wraps his hands around Steve’s neck and shivers when a large pair of hands settle at his waist.

They swayed together slowly. Eddie couldn’t bring himself to look Steve in the eyes, so he busied himself with counting the moles on his neck. George Michael crooned about his guilty feet as they revolved around the locker room.

“See. This isn’t so bad, is it?” Steve whispered into his hair. They had drifted unconsciously closer as they danced, and now they were only a few inches apart.

He pulled back a bit to force Eddie to make eye contact with him. Eddie forced the blush that was fighting to rise to his cheeks back down and smiled.

“I would say it’s the best dance I’ve ever had, but I don’t have anything to compare it to,” he admitted.

“Well, I do, and I agree,” Steve said. “Don’t sell yourself short, you’re a very good dancer.”

Eddie grinned.

“Don’t let me get too cocky, Stevie. I might think you actually like me.”

“And if I said I did?” Steve asked seriously.

“I-I’d tell you that you probably don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eddie stammered.

Their eyes met again. Steve had a worried little crease between his eyebrows that Eddie registered as very cute in the back of his mind. They continued to sway even as Eddie’s hands began to sweat. Steve’s expression cleared suddenly, as if he had made up his mind about something.

“Stop me if this is, I mean, if I’m doing the wrong thing, okay?” he murmured.

He lifted the hand that had been on Eddie’s waist and cupped his cheek. Eddie felt his heart fall out of his chest and settle somewhere near his stomach. Steve’s eyes fluttered shut and he started to lean forward.

Tonight the music seems so loud, I wish that we could lose this crowd.

Eddie’s lips parted in a hastily stifled gasp as Steve Harrington kissed him. His own eyes slid shut as their lips met. Everything melted away: the smell of the locker room, the harshness of the fluorescent overhead lights behind his eyelids, even his own nerves squirming in his stomach. There was nothing but the press of Steve’s soft lips against his own and the pressure of his hand against Eddie’s face.

Far too quickly, Steve pulled back. Eddie stared at him, wide-eyed with shock.

“That was okay, right? That I did that?” Steve asked softly.

“Uh, um, yes yeah definitely. Definitely okay.”

Steve grinned at him. It was so infectious that Eddie couldn’t help smiling back. He was still cradling Eddie’s face gently in his warm hand.

“Then would it be weird if I asked you if you wanted to sneak out of here with me and drive around for a bit? I don’t really feel like going back to prom,” Steve said.

“I’m all yours, big boy,” Eddie replied breathlessly.

Steve twined their fingers together and leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips. Then he tugged Eddie toward the door, laughing. It was the most beautiful thing Eddie had ever seen.

~~~

They're so cute I love them so much. After this they drove around Hawkins for hours, singing along to the radio and holding hands and other sappy things. Anywhosies as always let me know if you want to be added to (or removed from) my permanent Steddie tag list where I bother you anytime I write anything about these two boys <3

Steddie tag list

Tag list: @brassreign @inmoonywetrust @kyoxyukiforever @spectrum-spectre @vampireinthesun @awkwardgravity1 @obsessivlyme  @steddieassheg0es @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @sunflowers-and-knives @original-cypher @e0509 @estrellami-1 @scottiedoessknow @sweetwaterangel @novelnovella

[writeforfandoms]

Shadows 1

Find the John Price masterlist

My entry for @glitterypirateduck O Captain challenge! This one starts with #3, a rescue takes place. This is part of the larger zombie AU, but you don't have to have read the other fics.

About a year and a half after the end of the world, you're unexpectedly rescued by a group of four men. Time to find out what you can make of life now.

Warnings: Violence, canon typical violence, forced captivity (not by the 141), unnamed bad guys, blood, references to medical stuff, swearing, grief, allusions to deaths, not all monsters are zombies.

Word count: 1.4k

You'd lost track of the days in this place. Well. Not this particular place, you'd been moved around a few times. 

But these places were all the same. Abandoned, with varying levels of light, never unpacking. 

Not that you were allowed to keep much. Mostly just supplies. 

You shifted your position, crossing your legs carefully against the hard floor. The heavy duty strap around your ankle dragged the chain across the floor, an unnecessary and loud reminder that you couldn't go anywhere. 

The house around you was quiet and still. No footsteps coming towards you. No shouting. No smashing glass. 

Considering the world had all but ended, you'd think these guys would want to keep their living area clean. But no. They'd proven to and again that they didn't care about anything except themselves and getting what they wanted. 

Unfortunately for all of you, safe places were becoming harder to find. The cities were all unpassable, filled with infected. Which left towns and other areas. 

This group had gone through at least three towns since they'd grabbed you. They didn't care about anyone else. They didn't do anything to help. They just took what they wanted, killed anyone who got in their way, and kept you alive to sew them back up after. 

Considering they often attacked in the night, and guns were not readily available to most people, you didn't have too many injuries to deal with. 

Honestly, if throwing yourself off a building was an option, you'd consider it carefully at this point. 

The first sign you had that all was not well was a thud, so muffled you almost didn't hear it. You probably wouldn't have, except you were actually awake and sort of paying attention. 

Now you wished you'd sat closer to the window. Just in case. 

Silence held for long enough that you felt almost confident relaxing again. Whatever you'd heard was a fluke, or someone moving, or something simple like that. None of your  concern… unless someone had managed to break a bone or something. 

You really hoped not. You hated setting bones without the modern conveniences. 

A door downstairs creaked, and you went still, heart rabbiting in your chest. All the doors in this house creaked, that's just what happened with neglect. It wasn't a big deal.

But if the men were up and moving, you needed to be alert. You couldn't simply trust that they'd leave you alone. 

But you didn't hear footsteps or further signs of life. Which was different. Unusual.

Unusual was probably bad. 

Moving slowly, you got to your feet, trying to minimize how much the chain dragged against the floor. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe this was nothing. Maybe there was nothing to be upset about. 

Then the shouting started, one voice that you recognized yelling for the others to get up, to fight. Soon other voices joined him, chaos erupting downstairs. The first gunshot still made you jump, loud and unexpected. Your fingers twitched at your sides, anxiety thrumming through you, leaving you jittery. More gunshots followed the first, and you winced. 

Well. Undoubtedly you'd have people to fix up after this. Whatever this was. 

The chaos downstairs lasted mere minutes that felt like hours. Gunshots and shouting and meaty thuds, the occasional creak or squeal of a door. When you convinced yourself to creep to the window, you couldn't see much outside. 

Then a flash of movement in the bushes outside. Could be nothing. Could be a person. You moved to the side, trying to hide. The cuff around your ankle tugged sharply, reminding you of your limitations. Heart beating wildly in the sudden silence, the sudden absence of violence, you knelt to scrabble at the material. 

The stairs squeaked as someone ascended them. 

Rapidly running out of time, you gave up on freeing yourself, and instead scrambled over to hide behind the door. That would give you a moment or two, maybe, and had the added bonus of leaving you enough loose chain to hold as a makeshift weapon. 

The door eased open, but nothing else happened for several moments. You couldn't hear anything over the pounding of your heart, your fingers clenched so tight around the length of chain your fingers ached, metal digging into your skin. 

The other person moved suddenly, stepping into the room and twisting to look right at you. You didn't notice much initially, too focused on the gun suddenly pointed directly at you. You made a choked off kind of noise, swallowing hard, fingers gone numb. 

But there was no gunshot. No pain. No noise. 

The gun lowered slowly, and you finally looked past it to the man in front of you. The first thing you noticed were his eyes - the kind of blue that stuck with you, intense but warm. The facial hair drew your attention next, mostly because not only had he made a bold choice in muttonchops, but they were clean and maintained. 

He clearly had access to supplies. 

Finally, you realized his lips were moving. He was talking to you. You just hadn't heard him. Blinking rapidly, you breathed in deep, trying to think, to focus past the lingering fear. 

“I'm sorry, what did you say?” Your voice came out quieter than you intended, a little raspy. Your throat still felt tight and dry. 

His lips quirked in an almost smile. “I asked if you were injured,” he repeated patiently, voice soothingly even. 

“No.” You swallowed, looking down at the chain still clutched in your hand. “No, I'm fine.” 

He raised one eyebrow, chin tipping like he really wasn't sure about that, but he didn't argue. “Take it you're not with the gents downstairs.” 

You scoffed. “Could say that,” you agreed, loosening your grip but not letting go yet. You could finally hear again, could hear someone else moving in the house, the gentle creaks and groans of the old house helping you track them. “What happened?”

He looked at you for a moment, impassive, before he nodded once. “Most of them are dead. They attacked our town. Tracked them back here.” 

You nodded, leaning back a bit. Clearly this man was dangerous. Him and whoever he had with him. It was strange though that you couldn't hear more, unless he'd left most everyone else outside. The group downstairs was impossible to miss when they were moving, at over a dozen members. 

The two of you stood for a few moments at an impasse before he shifted the gun to his side, holding it with one arm. His free hand drew a knife.

For a moment, a bare second, you stared at the shining blade and wondered if this was finally it for you. 

But he surprised you, kneeling in front of you. “Gonna cut this off you,” he told you, motioning to the strap around your ankle. “Hold still.” 

You didn't move a muscle as he worked, lips pressed tight together. The metal was cool against your skin, but you felt no pain. 

Just a loosening, a sudden lightness. 

“Done.” He rose back to his feet, knife safely tucked away again. “Sure you're not injured?” His gaze swept over you, cool and assessing. 

It finally clicked what he thought you were doing here, and your lips twisted in an almost smile. “They didn't rape me,” you said, finally letting go of the chain, letting it fall with a loud clatter. “I'm a nurse. Or I was, anyway.” 

Comprehension dawned, and his shoulders settled a little lower, a little more relaxed. “Handy to keep around,” he surmised. 

“And keep well enough to work,” you agreed with wry humor, flexing your fingers. 

“You have anywhere to go? Anyone waiting for you?” 

Grief stuck in your throat, the flash of blood and bodies and cruel laughter taking all your attention. But only for a moment. You shoved it back down to deal with never, breathing in slowly. Controlled. You were fine, you had this handled.

“No.” You cleared your throat, clearing away the remnants of grief. “Much like everyone at this point, I suspect.”

No pity darkened his eyes, understanding in the tilt of his lips. “Could always use someone with your skills in town.”

You tipped your head, looking at him. He stood patiently under your scrutiny, giving you all the time you needed to note how clean he was, his clothes in good repair, his weapons seemingly working fine. Wherever he called home must have been in pretty good shape, especially to have guns and enough people to spare to go after a threat. 

“A town, you said? Tell me more.”

[dyeher]

Includes| Iwaizumi Hajime x Fem! Reader x Sakusa Kiyoomi

Warnings| Exhibitionism, D/S Undertones, Overstimulation, Anal Sex.

Notes| @audrinui ❤️

sakusa finds you on your knees in the last shower stall, all the way at the end of the private showers. he’s disgusted. you’ve been stripped bare, a cloth- one he recognizes as his own- is stuffed into your mouth and muffles your sobs effectively. sakusa wonders briefly what the fuck is wrong with hajime. sure, they’d made a mistake but, this kind of punishment was a stretch. when did he even get the time to drag you in here? was it after the first set? why didn’t sakusa noticed that you’d left your seat?

it doesn’t actually matter now because, hajime has left instructions. five orgasms for you and two for sakusa, at least that’s what you inform him. he doesn’t want to know what happens if they don’t meet these requirements, so he nods his understanding and steps into the stall to close the glass door. sakusa watches you shift around to move your legs, so you were sitting on your ass and then he watches them fall open. sakusa scowls openly when he assesses that hajime has also left him presents.

you’re plugged up. both holes sport plugs, none of them are sakusa’s and the scowl deepens when you shift around and cum leaks out around the one in your pussy. does hajime really expect him to fuck you while you’re like this? you were filthy, sakusa didn’t even know how long you’d been like this. there’s the clearing of a throat outside and sakusa feels the hair on his arms and back raise. the devil himself.

“you have fifteen minutes before the rest of the team comes in here,” hajime says. “unless you want them to hear you two fucking, in which case, I have no objections.” sakusa doesn’t think about his actions after that, it was best he didn’t. he turns the shower on to drown out most sounds and drags you to your feet.

you cum the first time, against his fingers. he doesn’t remove the plugs just rubs gentle circles into your clit, whispers how badly he needs you to cum until you do, and the force dislodges the plug in your pussy and sakusa grimaces at the sight of cum running down your inner thighs. he turns you around, so your back is pressed against his damp chest. grinds into your ass and when you plead, beg: “please, please, fuck me, I’m a good girl, I’m a go-” he wraps long arms around you, to keep you upright as he fucks into you.

sakusa likes to tell himself that he’s disgusted by the way hajime’s cum acts as lube for him but, he’s not. some sick part of him loves it. loves that hajime has filled you up with his cum with sakusa in mind. an, I love you of sorts, using their pretty baby as the messenger.

sakusa gets you to orgasm number two before the first voices filter into the room. you’re on your knees again, his cock deep in your throat, too busy chasing his orgasm to even notice that hajime has joined you.

hajime thinks this is the worst form of punishment he’s ever dished out. yet, not an ounce of guilt lives in him. he watches with rapt attention as sakusa throws his head back and cums with a shout that hajime knows the others have heard.

“eh?” he hears atsumu first. “ye hear that shouyo-kun?” hajime frowns when hinata says he doesn’t. sakusa comes down from his high and hajime is impressed with how quickly his face can switch from pleasured to disgusted.

you turn to hajime too and hajime melts a little at the spit coated state of your lips, chin and neck, pretty, he thinks. he notes the plug in your ass is till intact and narrows his eyes at sakusa. “so, you want them to hear?”

sakusa doesn’t respond, elects to pretend that hajime isn’t there at all as he pulls you up to your feet once more. he turns you around and bends you toward hajime roughly. hajime catches you of course and kisses you gently while sakusa pulls the plug out of your ass. he chuckles against your lips when he hears the tch he’d come to love escape sakusa.

“you played so well bokuto-san!” shouyo’s overzealous voice comes closer and hajime watches in amusement as sakusa tenses. “your spikes were all blam! and wham!”

hajime kisses you again to muffle his laughter. you moan loudly when the plug slips free with a squelch and both men freeze because everyone outside goes quiet. hajime and sakusa lock eyes and sakusa gulps.

“eh? omi-kun?” atsumu calls out.

“ignore him,” hajime mouths at sakusa and sakusa listens, he grabs your waist to anchor himself as the head of his cock disappears into your ass.

“kiyoomi!” you wail and hajime’s palms twitch with the need to cover your mouth, but something about the way sakusa’s grip tightens on your waist as footsteps pad closer forces him to stay still. hajime swallows the wave of arousal that threatens to drown him when he realizes sakusa might…like this. like being caught or even seen.

“omi…omi-san has someone with him,” hinata tries to whisper and hajime grins when there’s a collective gasp. sakusa’s pace speeds up and hajime’s dick throbs. he rearranges you so that your hands press against the glass of the door behind him and the gasp repeats itself. hajime moves around to stand next to sakusa. he drags a palm down your spine, circles a finger around your puckered hole where it’s stretched to accommodate his girth.

kiyoomi’s hips stutter and you yelp stumbling further into the door until the side of your face is pressed into the glass. you’re too overstimulated to care about the fact that you’ve just exposed yourself to everyone outside.

“please get back to what you’re doing,” ushijima’s voice sounds shaky, even hajime can hear it but, he doesn’t care. his eyes are glued to the way sakusa’s cock is disappearing into you, displacing the cum he’d left there earlier.

“you like this?” hajime asks. he turns to stare into hooded eyes. he runs one rough palm up sakusa’s chest, taking his time to tweak at his nipples. saksua can’t stop the moan that escapes him and hajime chuckles when no sound comes from outside. he reaches his free hand back to your head and lifts you off the glass only to press you forward again. this time your entire chest is pressed against it, nipples dragging against the surface with every one of sakusa’s thrusts.

“please, please, please,” you’re babbling hajime hadn’t even realized before. “please, please, wanna cum ‘yoomi, haji wanna cum.” hajime wraps a hand around your body and with a gentle flick of his fingers against your clit you’re unravelling. you let out a scream into the bathroom and it’s accompanied by sakusa’s breathless panting of your name as he cums too. hajime holds you up with an arm, pulling you away from the glass door so that he can slide it open.

sakusa’s eyes are closed as he empties into your ass so, he can’t see the faces of his slack jawed teammates or hajime’s satisfied grin.

“omi-kun,” atsumu whispers. “yer so pretty when you cum.”

hajime hums his agreement and slides the door shut when sakusa’s eyes finally reopen. you’re limp in their arms and hajime watches sakusa come to terms with what just happened as he cleans you up. ushijima manages to herd everyone away from your stall but, not before muttering something about inappropriate things at the three of you.

“you liked it,” hajime says, matter-of-factly. “you really liked it.”

“I think he did,” you agree, as hajime massages sakusa’s shampoo into your hair.

sakusa goes to glare at him but, the sight of hajime under the spray of the water dries his mouth.

“we can finish this when we get home,” hajime continues and sakusa’s mouth opens to object, and only when hajime smacks you on the ass when you giggle at his reaction, does he realize he’s been baited.

“yes,” he acquiesces. “I did.”

[hualianisms]

Not father & son, not master & disciple, but a secret third thing

First of all, let me preface this by being clear that everyone is free to headcanon anything they want and like/dislike anything they like/dislike! That being said, sometimes I see international fans interpret FDB as LLH's son, or their dynamic as parent-child or otherwise familial, and as a native chinese speaker, I just wanted to share some reasons why I personally did not interpret them as familial.

Granted, at the start of the show, FDB is kept in the dark and also not up to LLH's level of skill in solving cases. However, FDB quickly catches up in crime-solving skills, intellect and maturity by the 2nd half of the show, after a well-written growth arc. I think the beauty of the characters and relationships in this show is that they grow & evolve, and are meant to do so. The dynamic that LLH & FDB had in episode 1 is quite different from their dynamic at the end of the show. By the later episodes, they are 2 adults who are very much equals.

Why I don't read them as father & son:

LLH & FDB act and speak in a manner that is far too informal & familiar with one another, which would be extremely inappropriate for any kind of parent & child, even a surrogate one. Several times, FDB calls LLH by just his first name "Lianhua", and sometimes even calls him "Damn Lianhua" when he is angry/upset at LLH. This would be extremely rude for a disciple to call a master, or a son to call a father. No son talks to his father the way FDB talks to LLH, and no disciple talks to their master like that. Unless the son/disciple hates the father/master, and is outright rejecting his father/master altogether. As we see in the show, not only does FDB not hate LLH at all, he instead cares deeply for LLH and would do anything to save him. Why, then would someone scold/curse someone they care about? Does the trope of the upset spouse/partner sound familiar?

For comparison, see FDB's interactions with He Xiaohui, who he is close to - he is informal & affectionate with her, but never calls her anything other than "娘 niang" ("mother"). I can't emphasize enough how taboo it is in Chinese culture to ever call your parent or parental figure by their name under any circumstance.

2. In ep 31, FDB himself explicitly rejects the idea of LLH as his shifu and himself as LLH's disciple, responding that he is too old to be LLH's disciple and it was merely a joke. He clearly sees LLH as an equal, and rejects the notion of their relationship being anything other than that of 2 adult equals. LLH also tells his shiniang that FDB is not his disciple, and a few episodes ago LLH told FDB that he has never understimated FDB.

Coding/hints as something other than platonic:

Zhiji/zhijiao - FDB calls LLH his 知交 zhijiao in ep 19, and 知己 zhiji in ep 34. "In this life, I, Fang Duobing, recognize you as my only zhiji." is practically a love declaration. And this bond is reciprocated by LLH, bc in a deleted line in ep 19, translated by forayuarchive on twitter, LLH is the one who first calls FDB his zhijiao.

To clarify, Zhiji is not specifically a romantic term, but it's what was used in both The Untamed and Word of Honor - both dramas based on danmei novels with canon gay main pairings - to bypass censorship, to code the bond between the main duo as deeper than your typical platonic male friendship. (See this post for a detailed explanation of the significance/history behind the term zhiji, and see this twitter thread for an explanation of the meaning of zhijiao in MLC - especially how zhijiao is specifically mutual, reciprocated).

2. Married bickering - forayuarchive on twitter has discussed in these twitter threads how the tone of many of LLH & FDB's interactions (especially FDB) is similar to how married couples or romantic partners speak to one another bc of the level of familiarity, tone and language. For my fav example, see this note (translation by forayuarchive) that FDB left LLH in ep 35, which reads pretty much like a note that a spouse/partner might write when leaving their shared house in a hurry.

3. "Xiaobao" - Personally as a native Chinese speaker, LLH calling FDB "xiaobao" in front of everyone is a level of intimacy that genuinely would make me feel embarrassed to hear as a third party. 小宝 xiao bao (literal meaning = "little treasure") is usually something you call actual babies/children AND is FDB's family nickname for him, so if you're calling a grown man that in front of everyone including his colleagues, family and even strangers, then one might assume he is likely either your biological family or your romantic partner. (For comparison, just imagine calling your s/o their parent's special childhood nickname for them at work.)

4. Deleted lines where FDB calls LLH "xiaohua'er". 小花儿 Xiaohua'er ("little flower") is very intimate and feels like something someone might call a lover. Or, at least, definitely not a platonic shifu, even less so a parental figure. (For meta on the names that LLH & FDB use for one another, see forayuarchive's twitter thread.)

5. More deleted scenes (translated by forayuarchive on twitter), perhaps cut due to censorship, which make apparent LLH's high regard and deep care for FDB. For e.g., a line of internal monologue by LLH in ep 40, translated here by forhenjun, shows that LLH thinks of FDB as the only person in his two lifetimes who has always treated him as a human being rather than putting him on an unfair pedestal.

6. Official MLC accounts act like as if they ship them.

As murderedbyhomework mentioned, there is a song in the official soundtrack of MLC called "Fanghua's Day-to-Day Life" (yes, the exact same words as their ship name). Sounds like a couple's daily domestic life, doesn't it?

The official iQiYi Romance youtube channel lists clips of LLH & FDB under the romance category.

The official MLC douyin account posts MVs with emotional captions (e.g. this one translated here by forayuarchive) that emphasize how much both LLH and FDB mean to one another. Another official MLC douyin calls LLH & FDB the person each other trusts the most.

The MLC clips posted by the official Guangdong TV weibo account also has captions such as these (translated by rice_jpg) that straight up describe FDB's feelings towards LLH as "when you like someone" (very similar CN phrasing as the phrasing used to describe romantic crushes).

7. They are subtly paralleled with a canon straight romantic couple (see fanqxiaobao's twitter thread on the parallels btwn LXY/QWM scenes and certain LLH/FDB scenes). MLC also made a distinct change from the novel by not having FDB get married to Princess Zhaoling, even though the drama could have easily given FDB a romance with her.

8. If you're familiar with chinese romantic tropes or the danmei genre, LLH & FDB fit many common romantic tropes e.g. sharing a drink on the rooftop under the moonlight, forgotten first meeting in childhood (and then meeting again properly as adults), power couple fighting side by side (they even held hands!), nianxia, protective younger ml, sickly older mc - just to name a few. Danmei even has many stories of shizun/shifu & disciple pairings who fall in love as adult equals.

There's honestly lots more but these are just some off the top of my head. Again everyone is free to interpret anything! This is just me explaining why as a native chinese speaker I personally did not read their dynamic as that of a father and son.

[chigirizzz]

stop feeding my cats! — nagi

gn! reader, fluff, not proofread

you frowned, confused, as you read the messy handwriting on the yellow sticky note that was glued to the cat food bowl in an alley near your house.

stop feeding my cats, it says. 

the hell?

you looked around the alley. nothing. you stepped out a few steps from the alley to investigate the street. people and cars were passing by but nothing special.

was the sticky note a prank? done by someone who could have had an eye on you for a while (that thought made you shiver; you hoped that wasn’t the case)? or was, in fact, the owner of the stray cats that you’ve been feeding for a few weeks by now? 

no, it couldn’t be; if the person was the owner then why the hell don’t they take care of their pets? the cats were dirty, skinny and none of them had a collar or signs that they used to have a collar. then, was someone also feeding the feline creatures that you’ve taken a liking for? it seemed to be the more rational scenario.

you shrugged and crumpled the paper, before putting it in the pocket of your pants. you really didn’t give a shit, honestly, as long as the person doesn’t disturb you in any way.

while opening the new cans of cat food that you just bought from the supermarket, some of the cats that you recognized made their way to you, excited by the smell of the canned food.

this was your routine now, coming to the same alley you were in and giving the love and affection that those poor animals didn't have. you liked doing this, and you even brought your friends once in a while to help you, which they never hesitated to do.

as you looked inside the plastic bag, you realized you forgot to buy fresh water for the cats. “ah, shit. wait here, it won't take long.” you patted one of the cats, a gray one, and ran to the supermarket. today was a very hot day, so the water was a must.

as you made your way back in the alley, you heard a soft, sleepy, masculine voice talking to no one in particular. it was a white haired boy who seemed to be your age, his tall body in a squatting position, petting the same gray cat you pampered not even 10 minutes ago.

“your fur is so soft. pretty. pretty.” he eventually realized you were there watching him confused, his bored eyes staring at yours. “hm... are you the one who’s been nagging misky and her friends?”

“huh?” you approached him and tried to not be intimidated when he got up and made you look up at him. he was really tall. his baby face didn’t fit the slight muscular and tall body of his. “misky? nagging? what are you on about?”

he pointed at the gray cat. “that’s misky, i was the one who gave her that name. the other cats are her friends,” he affirmed. “and you’ve been nagging them.”

“wha—ugh, unbelievable.” you groaned and rolled your eyes. was he dumb or was he trying to make you look like an idiot? his posture and facial expression remained the same, waiting for an answer, probably. “i never bothered the cats or anything. i just feed them, give them water and pet them. i don’t see where the problem is.”

“i already do that.”

“then how come i never saw you here? i come here often.”

“oh. sometimes i forget to take care of them.” his lips were now similar to an “x”. “i come here once or twice a week… unless i forget.”

“that’s nothing, they need more atten—wait, are you the one who left the sticky note?” he nodded, now on his knees to play with the cats. one of them proceeded to lick his fingers, love and affection on the feline’s eyes. they all seemed to recognize and like him, even if he was a bit neglectful. you looked at the boy interacting with the hungry animals, a view that warmed your heart. “what’s your name?”

“nagi,” he answered without looking at you, grabbing one of the cats and placing them softly on his lap.”nagi seishiro.”

“i’m y/n l/n.” you approached him and sat on the floor. “they really love you.”

“mhm. i’ve been visiting them for a few months now. look,” he called out for your attention and began pointing at each cat while telling you their respective name. “that’s miya, the black one is puddin, that one is jung and the one who’s besides him is his girlfriend, hana. oh, and this one is named reo because his personality reminds me of my best friend reo!” you laughed at his excitement. he seemed like an innocent kid at the moment, which you found adorable.

“i see. i never bothered to give them names; i’m not good at that, haha.”

“that’s because you’re a bad caretaker.”

“huh?! as if!” he ignored you. “how does me not giving them names equal to being a bad caretaker?”

he shrugged and looked at you. “hm, don’t know. but i’d appreciate it if you'd stop feeding my cats.”

you arched your eyebrow. “then why don’t you adopt them?” 

“too much of a hassle taking care of them daily.” you facepalmed at his response, to which he didn’t bother to react to. “once or twice a week is enough for me.” his “:x” facial expression was back again.

“if it’s such a hassle then why don’t you want me to take care of them?” he was now in silence and looking at the floor. he seemed… sad. you touched his shoulder gently with the tip of your fingers. “nagi?...”

“i don’t have many friends. don’t want someone to take them away from me.”

awn...

“i won’t take them away from you. my parents don’t want any type of pets.” it was silent for a few seconds in the alley, the only thing that was heard were the cars and the people passing by. it was relaxing, actually.

“say, y/n, why don’t we both take care of them?” he suggested as he laid on the floor with his arms supporting his head, looking at the clear sky.

“is that what you want?”

“mhm.”

you smiled at him. “ok, fine for me!  i’ll do my part on the first four days of the week and you on the other three days!”

“no, that’s not what i meant.” his eyes were gazing at yours. “we’ll take care of them at the same time, so i can see you more often. you seem like a nice company.”

oh.

“isn’t… isn’t that a hassle for you?”

“yes.”

“and you still want to do that?”

“mhm.”

“you’re weird,” you chuckled. “but ok, i accept, nagi.”

the rest of the day nagi and you played with the cats and decided when to come back to the alley. the boy was actually really funny despite not showing any emotion. and you were starting to see him as a friend.

[vanderlesbian]

141 dating a civilian

hii!! this is a self indulgent belated bday gift to myself (im 20 now...) but i hope u guys enjoy it!! also feel free to leave requests in my asks bc i am so bad at thinking of prompts but ive been wanting to write so bad LOL

writing this had made me realize that i love writing gaz content........i am obsessed with him.........

gn reader! no warnings :)

masterlist

captain john price

- price loves being around you—you bring a sense of normalcy that relaxes him. when he's home, he enjoys doing domestic things around the home. he offers to do the laundry, he'll make you tea in the mornings, he feeds the dog and cat you two raise together and will go with you on any errands you need to run. when he's with you, he never thinks about work, which makes you happy because you hate to see him overworking himself.

- i feel like you two would meet through laswell. a mutual friend, you and price would meet one another at a pub or something of the sort. immediately, the two of you take an interest in one another, and laswell would catch onto that rather quickly and finds it endearing. when getting to know one another, you mention the fact that you live alone, which gives price the excuse to hand you his number. "in case you need anything", is what he told you, and you could've sworn you saw laswell snickering behind him. regardless, you ended up texting him a few days after that, asking him if he knew how to fix cars.

- loves going on vacations with you!! when price has a decent period of time off, he'll ask you if you want to go somewhere, to which you always answer yes. road trips are his favorite, because driving for long periods of time is something calming for him and he enjoys the fact that it's just the two of you traveling. maybe you'll go camping, or perhaps you'll drive a country over to spend a few days in a different city; whatever it is, you and price always have a nice time. while he gets to travel a lot, he recognizes that you don't have the same opportunity, so he loves to take you places as see your reactions to things. when he's deployed, he's always on the lookout for places to take you later.

- one of your favorite things to do is visit price while he's in the office. you usually bring him a meal, whether it be home made or take out because you know he's going to forget about grabbing himself something to eat. he always thanks you with a kiss, then you linger for a moment to speak to him, giving him time to eat and take a break from his work. while you're visiting price, all of his attention is on you, and if a soldier knocks on his door and asks to speak to him, he'll use his captain voice to tell them to come by later unless it's an emergency.

- price is very proud to call you his partner. although he tries not to bring you up too often at work because of privacy and professional reasons, he likes to mention you casually every now and then, especially with laswell or the other 141 members. he's proud of the work you do, no matter what your career is; he's just likes to brag about his amazing partner. he will do his signature v shaped smile whenever someone says in surprise,"oh, your partner is a/n [occupation]? how cool!"

simon "ghost" riley

- ghost is a listener, not a talker. and boy, does he love listening to you ramble on about your day. he finds it cute; the way you complain how expensive your coffee was that morning, or how you couldn't decide what to wear to simply go pick up a snack from the store. his responses include a lot of "oh really?", "i bet", and some snarky comments when you bring up a coworker that you don't particularly like. ghost is quiet, but his little responses show that he's well invested in your stories.

- just like everything else in his life, ghost keeps his relationship with you very private. it took him quite a while to even tell any of the other 141 members that he was in a relationship, simply because he didn't feel the need to tell them. he also wanted to protect you; not that he didn't trust the other members, but he was scared of your name accidentally being said to the wrong person. you were innocent, and ghost didn't want to ruin that innocence with the dark realities of his job and put you in danger.

- listen; meeting him at a music store. you would definitely be the one to initiate things, so when you saw a tall, handsome man flipping through records beside you, it made you look for an excuse to speak to him. "that's a good album", you would then finally speak up after watching him pull out a vinyl by the doors. ghost would honestly be taken aback; no one ever really strikes up conversation with him in public. "yeah" would be his response, but the dryness of it didn't stop you from continuing the conversation. after you two begin dating, ghost will often bring up how you were insistent on speaking to him, which never fails to bring a shy blush to your cheeks.

- you think it's amusing to have such a "scary" looking boyfriend. he tags along behind you whenever the two of you go out, and you often forget how large and intimidating he looks to others, especially because he always wears dark colored outfits and a face mask out in public. imagine ghost lingering behind you like a lost puppy while you mindlessly look through clothes at a store. when you're at the register, you notice the cashier glancing behind you, forgetting that ghost is looming over you like a bodyguard.

- speaking of others reactions, you love showing ghost off to people. you'll be spending time with friends, family, coworkers—whoever, and you get so excited whenever they ask if you have a boyfriend. you think it's funny to see their eyes widen when you pull up a photo saying "this is simon, he's deployed right now but (blah blah blah)". you had asked ghost for his permission to show photos of him to others while he wasn't around, and at first he was hesitant, but after hearing about the reactions he gives people, he doesn't care anymore. people think "that's their boyfriend?", which makes ghost smile to himself because yes, he's all yours.

kyle "gaz" garrick

- you two have this thing where the moment he opens the door after coming home from a mission, you'll sprint into his arms and he never fails to pick you up off your feet and squeeze you tight. gaz greets you like he hasn't seen you in years, covering your face and neck in kisses and spinning you around in his arms for what feels like forever.

- loves to facetime you when he's away. sometimes you'll be in different timezones, but both of you will be willing to stay up at 3 in the morning jusst to talk to one another. gaz always gives you room tours of whatever place he's staying at while deployed, or he'll call you while he's out shopping to ask what souvenir you'd like best. sometimes the other 141 boys will pop in to say hello, or gaz will shove the camera in their face to ask if they have anything to say to you.

- i feel that gaz would easily become jealous, especially because he can't be with you all the time. while he's away from you, you'll text or call him about an encounter at work or while you were out and about where someone tried hitting on you, earning a snarky remark from gaz. they always make you giggle because you're aware how protective he is of you, and they're often silly remarks like "they're lucky i wasn't there" or "should've told 'em your boyfriend is 6'5 and a wrestler"

- gaz is younger, so i feel that you would be a university student or something of the sort when you first met him. working part time at a local coffee shop at the time, you vividly remember gaz complimenting you the first time you served him. "you're very pretty/handsome, by the way" he said confidently, but quickly walked off before you could thank him. after that, gaz came in as often as he could, learning something new about you each time he came in, and it got to a point where you would simply give him a drink or pastry for free each time he came in. eventually he would ask you out, offering to take you somewhere after your shift, to which you immediately agreed to.

- when gaz visits your place, it's always like a silly little sleepover. the two of you will watch comically bad movies, make homemade pizza, play those couple's card games and he'll listen to you talk about any gossip you have. when gaz is with you, he takes it as his time to just be himself because he's so comfortable in your presence. he doesn't have to worry about being formal with you, and the two of you are equally as silly as you spend time with one another.

john "soap" mactavish

- soap doesn't like to bother you with his work. when he's with you, he'll always be so upbeat and playful, but you've learned to be able to notice when he's particularly stressed or tired. he insists that he's fine, telling you that you don't have to worry about him as he tries to play it off. he's a bit stubborn about it, so sometimes you have to bother him just a bit before he finally gives in and tells you what's up, or simply agrees to laying down and having a rest.

- okay, picture this. you meet soap at a dog park. i think he would have a german shepherd...which is besides the point, but when your dog and his both stop in their tracks to be friendly with one another, both of you feel that it's only natural to make conversation, right? the two of you quickly hit it off, to which you credit mostly to soap for being much more extroverted than you are, and the two of you talk about your dogs for a bit before the conversation focuses on yourselves. smoothly, soap would ask for you to join him on another trip to the dog park sometime, using the excuse that your dogs seemed to like each other.

- soap loves to text you while he's away, and other than gaz, he would be the one to text you the most out of any of the boys. he mostly sends a lot of random pictures of things he says reminds you of him, but will also update you on a bunch of random little things he's doing. "just shit in this french bathroom" "johnny i don't need to know that" "had to tell somebody"

- will leave plenty of his clothes for you to wear while he's gone, and it's practically all you wear during that time. you'll leave the house in an outfit completely made up of your boyfriend's clothes because they're just so comfortable, and it makes you feel less lonely having his scent lingering with you. even when soap is home, you still constantly wear his clothes, and 90% of his wardrobe is practically yours.

- soap would love to visit YOU at work. you forget your chapstick? he's on his way. you text him that you're hungry and forgot to pack a meal? he's bringing you your favorite fast food. although he's busy and can't stop by all the time, soap tries to stop by as often as he can, and all of your coworkers have learned to recognize him. "here comes johnny" one of them will point out, making you quickly whip your head around to look.

[libraryofgage]

PJO Steddie Six

One | Two | Three | Four | Five

And we back at it again with the PJO AU

The new series on Disney+ right? Like, that's soon and I'm fucking excited to start watching it omfg

Anyway, hope you enjoy this one! A little more Steddie flirting and some of Steve being a goddess's favorite little guy lol

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;P

-----

"Your, ah, bat," Chiron says, glancing at said weapon leaning against the side of Steve's chair, "it's effective against monsters?"

Around them, the sound of chewing can be heard as the kids descend on the snacks and refilling cups. Dustin, Max, and Erica in particular have chubby cheeks as they shove cookies into their mouths. In comparison, Steve hasn't touched a thing on the table. Not because he doesn't want to, of course, but because he'd rather avoid Lucas inadvertently biting him (it's happened before, he doesn't want it to happen again).

"Max's mom gave us some Celestial bronze, Dustin figured out how to melt it down, and Will suggested embedding nails in a reinforced bat. So we did," Steve explains, shrugging once.

Sitting in the chair directly to the left of Chiron is Eddie, his fingers drumming on the table as he looks between Steve and the centaur. He's been like that for the past 15 minutes, managing to keep quiet unless he's answering a question or adding a detail about their drive up that Steve missed. It's odd to see him so....restrained, but Steve can tell he's trying to be on his best behavior, likely to give him and the kids a better chance of staying.

Chiron hums in thought, considering the kids. His gaze lingers on El the longest, watching as she sips milk tea from her cup and passes Mike a bowl of grapes when he asks for it. "And you're sure El's powers aren't permanent?" Chiron finally asks.

Steve nods once. "We've timed it before. Worst cases fade in a few hours. Since El and I are related, she can't freeze me," he explains, offering a little more information than he needs to in the hopes of earning Chiron's trust.

The centaur must see through him, but his smile isn't unkind. "I see. And do you know all of their parents? The godly ones, I mean."

Steve nods and points to each kid while listing their godly parent. At the end, he points to himself and adds, "And mine is Zeus, which was probably obvious."

"Just a little," Chiron says. He considers them all for a moment before sighing. "Well, as long as you'll take full responsibility for El and her powers, I am happy to welcome you to Camp Half-Blood."

-------

Camp Half-Blood is nice.

Steve likes the strawberry fields, he's already looking forward to giving the climbing wall a try, and Eddie's brief mention of Capture the Flag earlier has him regularly glancing at the forest. The kids seem eager to explore, too, with Dustin practically lighting up when Eddie points out the Haphaestus cabin's workshop, Will and Erica looking wistfully at the pegasus stables, Lucas and Max practically vibrating with excitement when they pass the practice arena, Mike nearly breaking off from the group to jump into sparkling water on the beach, and El tugging on Steve's hand excitedly when they pass the archery field.

The tour ends in the middle of the cabins by a fire pit. A young girl is stoking the fire, keeping it going and smiling softly as the flames dance in front of her. She glances up to meet Steve's gaze, and he immediately recognizes her. He's ready to greet Hestia when she subtly shakes her head and turns back to the fire.

Steve forces himself to look away, studying the cabins, instead. There's one for each deity, and several other groups of cabins are scattered around the area like they keep adding more. A path of mismatched stone has been paved from each one to the fire pit, keeping them all connected.

His attention is immediately drawn to a cabin with a cloud and thunderbolt above the door. It looks kind of like a marble box with huge columns, a domed roof, and bronze doors that gleam in the sun. It looks imposing, and Steve can't imagine anyone actually staying in it.

"That'll be your cabin," Eddie says, pulling Steve's attention away. He grins when Steve looks at him, rocking back and forth on his feet. "And that's the Athena cabin, the Aphrodite cabin, the Morpheus cabin, Plutus, and Nemesis. Each has a lead camper in charge of getting new campers settled."

Steve blinks, frowning slightly. "What do you mean?" he asks.

"Well, the kids will stay in the cabins of their godly parents."

"No. They won't."

Eddie pauses, seeming to realize there's a problem. He looks at the cabins, then the kids, back to the cabins, and finally settles his gaze on Steve. "It's possible to visit between cabins, but we've never had a camper, like, not live in their parent's cabin."

"Has anyone tried?"

"Well. No."

"Does anyone live in the Zeus cabin right now?"

The moment Eddie shakes his head, Steve leads the kids toward the Zeus cabin. He feels a little resistance when he reaches the door, but he stubbornly ignores it and crosses the threshold to find an empty space. Well, mostly empty. He blinks, looking over the alcoves with golden eagles and the giant statue of Zeus in the middle. From the inside, the domed roof has mosaic clouds drifting across it with lightning bolts striking out from them.

"You've got to be kidding me," Steve says, frowning as he looks around the cabin. A cursory glance reveals that there is, in fact, a single bed somewhat hidden behind the statue of Zeus.

"I'd rather not sleep with your dad staring at me," Erica says, frowning at the statue before looking up at Steve. "I'm sure the Aphrodite cabin won't be so bad." Despite her words, her tone is reluctant, implying she'd rather not sleep with a bunch of strangers.

Steve closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and turns to look at the kids. Eddie is at the back of the group, watching him with a curious expression. "Okay," Steve says, his tone immediately getting the kids' attention, "I'm going to ask a question, and I want honesty. Who wants to stay in their parent's cabin?"

A few seconds pass in which the kids all glance at each other, silently asking the same question to see if anyone's answer will be different. When none of them raise their hand or say anything, Steve asks, "Does that mean you'd like to stay in a cabin together?"

The kids all nod, and Eddie looks ready to speak when Steve nods and herds the children out of the cabin. He glances at the fire pit, sees Hestia is still there, and tells the group, "Just hold tight."

He strides over to the fire pit and crouches next to Hestia, waiting patiently. After a few moments, the goddess smiles at him and says, "Hello, Steve. Welcome to my hearth. Would you like a cookie?"

Steve nods and takes the chocolate chip cookie that Hestia offers. He doesn't know where she got it from, but he doesn't question it. "Lady Hestia," he says after taking a bite, "I would appreciate your assistance."

"Your father would not appreciate other children in his cabin," she says, her voice gentle and coaxing.

"The kids want to stick together," Steve says, figuring that should be more than enough explanation.

"And what do you want, Steve?"

Steve is about to answer that he wants the same when Hestia meets his gaze. The words die in his throat as he's forced to actually consider the question. What does he want? He wants the kids safe, of course, and they'll be safest with him. But he also finds himself wanting a space of his own, his eyes glancing at Eddie before quickly looking away. He likes the idea of being alone with Eddie, something that likely won't happen unless Steve can put a door between them and the rest of the world.

He takes a deep breath, the two thoughts at war within him. Before he can say anything, though, Hestia smiles. "I'm sure Lord Zeus would prefer you stay in his cabin," she says, a brief flash of dislike crossing her eyes, "so I will work with it."

"And you won't get in trouble?" Steve asks, wondering if he really needs to worry about a goddess. She's doing him a favor, though, so he can't help himself.

"There is little your father can do to me," Hestia says, shrugging as she waves a hand toward Zeus's cabin. Nothing on the outside changes, but Steve knows the inside has been completely overhauled.

He looks at Hestia and smiles brightly. "Thank you," he says, pausing before digging into his jacket pocket and pulling out a pack of gum. "I can give you something better at dinner, but would you like one?"

Hestia lights up and happily takes a stick, carefully unwrapping it before popping it into her mouth. After chewing a few times, she blows a large bubble, grinning when it bursts a few seconds later. "Thank you," she says, beginning to blow another bubble. A breeze kicks up, sending a slight haze of smoke into Steve's eyes, and by the time he clears it away, Hestia is gone.

Steve stands, brushes non-existent dust off his jeans, and walks back up the steps. "Okay, let's try again," he says, flashing a grin at the kids and Eddie before opening the door.

The cabin has, thankfully, changed on the inside. It now has a skylight in the ceiling, allowing sunlight to stream into the room. There are several bunk beds pushed against the walls and three doors on the opposite side of the cabin. Each of the bunks has one of the kids' names carved into it, and the left-most door on the opposite wall has a small sign with Steve's name right in the middle of it.

"How is Zeus not smiting you right now?" Eddie asks, following the kids into the cabin and staring at everything around him.

Steve shrugs, watching as the kids choose their bunks by throwing themselves onto the beds and splaying their limbs out like starfish. He walks over to the three doors. The far right is a bathroom with multiple stalls and showers and the middle is a storage closet with cleaning supplies. He studies the door with his name on it for a moment before taking a deep breath and opening it.

The room inside is large. Like the main portion of the cabin, the room has a skylight. The walls are ringed with real clouds, all of them fluffy and white and leisurely drifting along. In one corner of the room is a small fountain covered in clouds and tiny carvings of women holding urns and smiling. A small bowl next to the fountain is filled with gold coins, and two oversized chairs are set up in the adjacent corner. The opposite wall is covered in shields and swords with one open spot that Steve knows is for his bat. In the middle of the wall, just above the spot for Steve's bat, a large crystal ball hovers, filled with lightning bolts that streak across it.

As Steve takes it all in, Eddie wanders over to the weapon wall and pokes the crystal ball, the door swinging shut behind him. His hair begins to float and stand on end from the static, and Steve snorts. "Don't mess up your hair even more," he says, grinning at Eddie as he bats his hand away.

When their fingers brush, a tiny shock passes between them, an almost imperceptible arc of lightning connecting their fingers before Steve jerks his hand away. "Sorry," he mumbles, frowning slightly. He can dismiss the other two times this has happened (he was surprised by the pool and barely maintaining control outside the camp), but a third time means it's significant, right?

"Don't apologize," Eddie says, reaching out and poking Steve's hand. Another shock passes, and Eddie grins wide. "It's cool."

"It could hurt you," Steve corrects, sliding back a step only for Eddie to follow. He frowns a little more, backing up again. Eddie follows again. They keep this up, amusement budding in Steve's chest and changing his frown into a smile, until Steve is backed up against the wall and Eddie is crowding into his space.

Eddie lights up like he's won and shifts closer. "You wouldn't hurt me, Stevie," he says, utterly confident in his assessment.

Steve snorts, raising an eyebrow at him. "You barely know me," he says.

"That's easily fixed."

"I could be a terrible person."

"You're not."

"I could be. Maybe this is all an act."

Eddie hums softly, leaning closer until their hands are close to brushing and they're inches apart. A low buzz starts to build under Steve's skin, reaching out to Eddie with such desperation that Steve doesn't think before grabbing his hand. Tiny sparks pass between their palms again, and Steve somehow feels himself calming down.

"I don't mind falling for it," Eddie whispers, his smile softening, and Steve finds himself thinking "it" probably isn't the word Eddie actually wanted to use.

He swallows around a sudden lump of nerves in his throat, lost for words and about to just turn to action (kissing seems like a pretty good action right now) when one of the kids bangs on the door. Eddie jerks back, blinking a few times as his cheeks start to flush. "Steve!" Lucas shouts, knocking on the door again, "C'mon, man, we wanna see more of the camp."

Steve swallows again, noting the way Eddie's gaze drops to his throat, and quickly looks away. He pulls the door open, somewhere between grateful for and annoyed by the interruption. "Have you guys figured out who's sleeping where?" he asks, letting himself get distracted by Lucas rolling his eyes and Dustin shouting about Mike stealing his bunk.

------

Tage List

@mugloversonly, @mentallyundone, @hairdryerducks-blog, @carriethesaint, @lunabyrd, @weekend-dreamer7, @farfaras, @littlelady03, @my-tears-are-becoming-a-sea20, @mogami13, @a-little-unsteddie, @itsall-taken, @queenie-ofthe-void, @tinyplanet95, @littlebluejane, @hangoversandhandgrenades, @rabbitwhoeatsstars, @bisexualdisastersworld, @steddieinthesun,

@paintgonewrong, @sadcanadianwinter, @deehellcat, @blanketlicker, @angrydonutdestiny, @booksareportal, @fallingchemicaldiscos, @am-i-obssed-probably, @anne-bennett-cosplayer

@estrellami-1, @fandomcartographer, @steddie-as-they-go, @cris-wants-a-word, @potato-of-the-lord, @plasticcrotches, @enigmahaze, @melodymeddler, @lololol-1234, @sageclipse, @steddiehyperfixation, @livelaughlexa, @genderless-spoon

[chimaerakitten]

I’ve been thinking today about off ramps in long running stories, especially book series.

By that I mean like, places where a person could stop reading and have a satisfying ending even if they’re not yet at the actual ending. (Someone tell me if there’s an established Tvtropes name for this I’m missing.)

Now, a lot of book series will have an off ramp at the end of book 1, because many first books are written without promise of a sequel. Like sure, there might be a sequel hook, but the actual second book is still up to publisher whims in most cases. So you can read All Systems Red or The Thief or A Madness of Angels and have a perfectly satisfying ambiguous-end sci-fi story or middle grade fantasy romp or inverted murder mystery revenge quest without ever picking up book 2. This is definitely an off ramp but it’s not necessarily the interesting or revealing kind because again. Whims of the publisher.

There’s also stories that have an off ramp after every installment. Leverage is famous for this—they had a philosophy of having every season be a satisfying ending, which says a lot both about the writers and about the story they were trying to tell.

But I think the most interesting ramps are the ones where by design or by circumstance, there’s a single off-ramp somewhere in the middle. One spot where unless someone tells you there’s more, you’d never be unsatisfied with leaving halfway through.

Sometimes these will be signaled in some way, where there’s a big timeskip after the off-ramp, or the series changes names or has a spin-off, or the POV changes, or after book 3 the author publishes a short story collection before hopping back in to novels, or the series suddenly jumps from being only novellas to a chunky 120k novel. (The Raksura books, Percy Jackson/HoE, Matthew Swift/Magicals Anonymous, and Murderbot all do one or more of these)

But sometimes off ramps aren’t visible in series order or marketing. Sometimes they’re organic to where a story happens to leave off at the end of an installment.

The queen’s thief has one of these after King Of Attolia. I know this was a satisfying ending because for seven years I thought it was the end. My local library didn’t have A Conspiracy of Kings, so I thought it was a trilogy. And you really can leave it there! KoA ends with Gen back in his element and recognized as king, the main internal threat to Irene neutralized, and peace on the peninsula. The Mede aren’t yet the immediate threat they are in the back half of the series, since up through KoA they’re mainly represented by the magus’s vague warnings and Nahuseresh, whom Irene thinks circles around. There’s no real reason to assume the Mede are a threat within the scope of the series. Now I absolutely prefer getting the whole story, but KoA is a damn solid off-ramp for anyone who feels like exiting there.

And that’s one kind of off ramp where the end you get is pretty similar in tone (mostly happy) to the one you get if you go on to the rest of the series. I’ve also read books where you can off ramp successfully right at the lowest point in the series and get a tragedy out of a series that ultimately ends happy, or leave at a high point and get a happier end than the main one, or exit at an ambiguous point and continue on with ambiguity. The Giver sequels make it pretty clear what happened to Jonas and Gabe at the end of the book. but you don’t have to read them or have that question answered if you want to.

I don’t have a really solid conclusion to draw here except that I think the positioning of off ramps says a lot about authors and stories, and choosing whether or not to take an off ramp says a lot about readers.

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 4

I do not believe in luck. It is not something my species is familiar with. We believe in science and logic. I was not even aware of the concept of luck or faith until I left the planet my species populates. So I do not  believe that it was a coincidence when during this cycle, the human was assigned to work with me. I did not see the Terran during my cyclic meal intake, and was immediately called into the main machinery room without a sight of it.

The Vitrichl appeared shortly after with the human in tow. Vitrichl eludicated that the human had proved to be a skillful worker and was now officially assigned to my unit unless the Vitrichl explicitly stated otherwise.Vitrichl left to attend his other duties, leaving me with the human.

I turned to the control panels covering the walls, and speaking into a small microphone, I introduced the Terran to the machine. "This is human Quinn. It is officially part of my unit and will assist me." 

"It‘s 'she', mate.", the human corrected. "Excuse me?", I asked, careful not to be impolite. "She. My prounous are 'she‘, not 'it'.", she explained. "I apologize. I did not mean to upset you." "It‘s alright, mate. I‘m not upset, just correcting you for future reference.“ "Thank you", I decided on the safest route.

"So, a mechanic as well? Cool.", she folded her fingers into her hand and extended it to me. I was not confident how I was supposed to respond to this gesture, so I once again, did nothing. Eventually, she retracted her hand and let it disappear into a fold in her clothing which appeared to be a pocket. 

Clothing, I noted. Not many members of the crew of the SIIR Noxos wore clothing on a regular basis, apart from their space suits. This obviously raised even more questions: Why did she wear clothing? Was it out of religious or cultural reasons? Out of personal comfort? Did all Terrans wear clothes or was she a special case? Did specific clothing symbolise specific things? These are all questions I hope I will be able to find out the answer to one day.

"Soo, like…what am I supposed to do around here? Do I have like, a specific task or…? Cap didn‘t mention anything." Cap. That was a word the translating device wasn‘t able to translate. "Cap?", I questioned further. Her face muscles contracted in a manner that made the patches of hair above her visual organs move closer to each other and the skin above them fold.

"The captain?", she said. "Of course, I apologize. The translating device did not recognize that word. I call him Vitrichl."

"Oh, is that his name? He didn‘t say anything." "No", I reassured. "It is simply the word "Captain" in my species‘ language." "Ah okay…", she said. "Well, what about my task?" "Of course.", I assigned her a simple task, showing her where to work and what to do. We then continued to work in silence. I did not object, because it gave me plenty of time to observe the human.

Humans, or at least this one, seemed to have rather random patches of hair on their head. Attached to the protective skin over their eyes, in a line above the eyes and on the top of the head. In human Quinn‘s case, it grew down, barely reaching her chest and was of a deep brown colour, just like her eyes. 

The muscles in her face never seemed to stay still, always contracting or smoothing while she worked. It was probable that facial expressions played a big part in human communication.

She still stood on two legs, upright and used both of her arms to work. For some inexplicable reason, she usually held a piece of technology or something similar in only one hand, but seemed to keep switching sides in a rather random matter.

I‘d have to ask her about it, but it did not seem like an appropriate time.

After working for some time and me continuously observing her, she set down her equipment and spoke: "Y’know, you‘re probably not aware of this, but humans consider staring rude." She turned around on her feet and faced me, seemingly watching me process this information. I quickly responded, careful not to irritate her further after having done something so insensitive. "I apologize. I was not aware of humans‘ stance on this behaviour and it was not my intention to be rude or make you uncomfortable. If I may ask, though, I have been watching you for some time now and I did not notice you ever turn around to face me until now. How were you aware I was watching you?" 

"Well, I could just kind of…feel it. I sensed your gaze in my back. Kind of like a sixth sense, you could probably say." I blinked. Sensed my gaze? Sixth sense? What were the other five then? 

I voiced these questions: "What do you mean you sensed it?" 

"Well, I just kind of had this feeling of someone watching me. Don‘t you ever get that feeling?" Flabbergasted, I said no.

She raised and lowered the part where her arms and chest joined once again, similar to the gesture she offered on the second day. "Well, I guess it just must be a human thing." "I suppose", I agreed, and with that, she turned back to the control panel she was commanding and we continued to work in silence, although now I was keenly aware of my every move and careful not to let my gaze linger on the Terran for too long.

She left before I did, apparently to take in another of her daily meals (something that was not necessary for my species). Soon, the cycle was already over before I encountered the human again.

I have made great progress during this cycle and I believe that if the human continues to work in my environment, it will be easier for me to discover more information about humans. 

Perhaps that is why the Vitrichl put the human into my section. Perhaps this was his plan all along. But I do not draw conclusions. I simply propose theories.